I like to think that pre-Oracle Rachel painted scenes from both wars, but she and Percy have no idea until they go back and reflect.

Percy notices, cause Rachel shows him her art, but he just rights it off as weird, even tho something doesn’t feel right.

Like, that’s DEFINITELY a replica Achilles mourning Patroclus. Only it’s two girls, one with flowing hair and a melted face, the other kneeling over her friend, face stricken with grief. He thinks her eyes look familiar. An immortal stands over them. Although they remind more of Ares and less of Thetis.

She has another painting that reminds Percy of a story from the Gigantomachy. Hera cowers under Porphyrion, about to be attacked. Only instead of Zeus and Heracles coming to her aid, it’s a guy with blond hair. His armor and sword is distinctively NOT Greek, but he opts to not comment on it. Rachel did a good job.

There’s more in her little studio, they both dismiss them as dreams. They make Rachel uncomfortable and Percy feels bile rise the more he looks.

He doesn’t realize until months later. It hits him while on the Argo. Him, Jason, Clarisse. THEY were the heroes in those paintings. Jason was the one coming to Hera’s aid. Clarisse was mourning Selina. He was fighting giants.

It all clicked into place, and he tried to remember what else her paintings for-told.

lovers, or partners in crime

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

words: 2.1k

summary: (post-tlt) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, The one where Annabeth and Percy think you're guilty too. You realize his betrayal a little too late, and he's left you looking like an accomplice. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation

(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )

—

Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.

It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames. 

Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.

Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.

How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?

Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.

“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”

She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.

“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”

You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.

You always do.

—-

“Clarisse stole the master bolt.” 

Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.

“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.

He knew. 

He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.

When did Luke start making plans without you? 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again. 

“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt. 

How could you be so stupid? 

Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side. 

Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.

“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two. 

“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.

“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly,“Not enough.”

“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”

Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.

“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”

Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking. 

You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.

“I need to do this.” 

He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.

“Please,” he mumbles. 

Is it a request? 

The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.

“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”

Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.

He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.

“You’re my home, trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.

“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.

“Just a little bit longer.” 

Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?

“I have to do this, trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.” 

Despite this.

A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.

“I’ll find you!”

A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough. 

But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?

—-

The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.

“Luke’s leaving camp.”

She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.

The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.

Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.

What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.

“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.

Is this what love is…looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers and hurting the people you love. 

Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision. 

This one was just made without you. 

There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.

“Castellan…”

His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.

The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you. 

For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.

—

“I wanted to hurt you

 but the victory is that I could not stomach it.” 

 -Richard Siken

next part: love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

Hey can you analyze the mbti of other percy jackson characters like annabeth ( entj probably....) and grover's(isfj or infp) ?

I haven't read them for ages but from what I remember:

Annabeth - ESTJ 1w2 sp/so

Bird primary with Snake model and Bird sec with Snake model

She's Hermione. All facts, direct actions, taking charge and judging things based on facts immediately. All of which are indication of Te-dom. She is Si-aux, she bases her worldview on her experience and things she knows to be true (knowledge on Greek mythologies, architecture, her own experience with Luke and her father, etc).

Everything she says is based off her own experience and expertise. She doesn't particularly show much intuition though. I barely remember a scene where she reads between the lines except when she realizes the deeper meaning of the prophecy in The Mark of Athena. Her Fi is very weak. She is kind and good-hearted but unable to comprehend and deal with it in healthy way. She'd rather bury it or lash out. This indicates lack of control for her feeling function (i.e., Fi-inferior).

Annabeth is driven by anger and duty. She is judgmental both to herself and other people. Her anger is directed at 'what is right' though. Which means she is enneagram 1. An 8 would direct their anger at keeping the world at bay (and at power dynamic, even healthy ones). Her anger is directed at controlling her impulses and do the 'right' thing. Which means she's superego type. She doesn't have the lofty, detached 9-wing. Instead, it's double superego of 1w2. She's always helpful to other people and willing to go through extra miles to help them.

Luke (gosh, my favorite character) - ENFJ 3w4 so/sp

Lion-Snake with Bird sec model

Luke is one of the best villain I've ever came across. He is Fe-dom. He appeals to people through emotions, make decisions base on collective good (Fe = what's good/appropriate for everyone involved). He doesn't make decision out of tactical reasons as much as emotional ones. In the second book, he doesn't have to duel Percy. His command over the army wouldn't crumble because he refuses to duel. But he did it because otherwise, he'll look weak (Fe + 3 + social). It doesn't make any tactical or logical sense (if he loses, it'll make him weak) but he does it because his people demand it.

Luke is also very polite to everyone, even to his enemy. That's Fe protocols. He even 'nicely' talks to Percy and Annabeth, striking up a small talk. His reason for fighting is because he couldn't stand seeing his fellow half-blood being mistreated, ignored or abandoned by their godly parents. He hates the Olympians for their neglectful mistreatment of their children. He hates the fact that the half-bloods have to loiter around, crammed in Hermes Cabin, waiting for a sign that will never come. He fights because he wants to change this, not for himself but for his people. That's a very Fe reason to fight. And that's why I like him more than Percy as well. Percy is selfish and doesn't see the big picture.

His Fe is supported by Ni. He has a picture of the world he wants to happen. And he works tirelessly to make that happen. Everything converges into that specific scene (liberation of the Half-bloods). He shows a lot of reading between the lines and insight. He knows Artemis will be manipulated into carrying the sky. He knows Percy's weakness and strength. He keeps his mind on the bigger picture at all time, effortlessly seeing how the system of half blood camp is broken. But he's also not very good at reacting in the moment. He's so focused on the intended outcome that when forced to adapt, he stumbles (Ni > Se). He didn't realize that Percy could give the winged shoes to Glover (he visualized Percy alone using it). He didn't see the Iris message trick Percy lured him into. But he's also a very talented fighter (which indicates weak Se, but not that weak Se - Tertiary).

His downfall is Ti-inferior though. He doesn't realize that his cause will do more harm than good until the very end (Kronos will never keep his promise. Luke's people will be hunted to extinction). He never pause to think and let Kronos manipulated him. Had he stopped and thought about Kronos's character and reasons, he wouldn't fall for his manipulation. Had he analyzes his own reasons, he wouldn't have sided with Kronos in the first place.

And he is 3w4 so/sp. He is, first and foremost, an image-focused. He is a social chameleon, adopting a role and playing it out. When he was in the camp, he played a role of a bro and a respected counselor (while being a spy and turncoat). When he was with the army, he took on a role of strong and feared warlord. Although it's his weakness that Percy exploited (luring him into a duel, he agreed because otherwise he lost face). An 8, for example, wouldn't care about that. An 8 would notice that power dynamic was on his side, thus there was no need to agree to the duel. But as a 3. His image is being questioned, hence he reacted.

He has 4 wing. He is unable to let go of his 'brokenness'. He can't move past his pain and relive it. He longs for Annabeth (after he betrayed her and know it's no longer possible). He lashes out at Hermes and Annabeth from a place of brokenness (I am wronged, I was hurt, can't you see?!). He also has strong elitist streak in his dealing with Percy (he is ABOVE Percy both intellectually and physically).

Glover - ENFP 6w7 sp/so

Double Badger

Glover is an idealist who isn't very good at reacting in the real world. He is often unrealistic and very idealistic, unlike the brutal realism of his friends (Percy - ESFP 6w7, Annabeth - ESTJ 1w2). But he is very good at reading between the lines and understanding people's emotions. He said so himself 'I might not be smart or strong, but I'm good at understanding emotions'. He instantly knew that Percy sent Medusa's head to Olympus because deep down, he felt good that his father accepted him and wanted to earn his recognition. Percy denied this, of course, but it turns out to be true. This show Ne-Fi dynamic in reading people (Ne + feeler focus on emotions).

He is 6w7. Very fear-driven individual and very reactive. He almost always addresses exactly when something scares him and always focus on rational actions that keep himself and his people safe. But also very loyal and attaches himself to the group. (He was afraid of going to Hades but went anyway because Percy went. He deferred himself to the council, even if they were useless old goats.) He shows 7-wing in how he reframes everything into positive note or joke about it to make it less scary.

Special mention

Octavian - ENTJ 3w4 sp/so. (A cunt with side dose of Malignant Narcissist with overt sadistic impulse. Severe anti-social symptoms and sadistic impulses).

I have to admit he is funny. In a sick way. He is a sick parody to real world Augustus (Gaius Octavius). Augustus was known to be very ruthless and pragmatic individual and cunning politician. Although unlike our Octavian, Augustus is smart.

Reyna Ramirez Arellano - ISTJ 1w9 sp/so

Rachel - ESFP 7w6 so/sp

Chiron - ISFJ 9w1 so/sp (He shows no intuition, his insightful nature stems from Si-Fe, not Ni).

Nico - INFP 4w5 sx/sp

Daedalus - ENTP 9w1 sp/so

ooc: so with rick continuously dunking on the movies i want to say my little piece about them.

the movies are the reason i read the books. Sure i had friends telling me to read them, but these same friends also told me twilight was everything and i needed to read those too.

i saw the movies and the greek history lover in me (who stole our fifth grade greek history text book) wanted to know more. The movies were what hooked me in. Specifically the first movie.

Were they bad adaptations? Yes. But for me specifically Jake's portrayal of Luke became so ingrained that I literally could hear his voice when reading Luke's dialogue in the book. Jake more or less became synonymous with Luke for me, and still is. And I love Charlie he is doing a great job, but he does lack some of the natural charisma jake has.

The movies have some banging lines, that while not technically true still hold alot of meaning. Luke's whole son of hermes camp leader thing while not even verifiably true is true because luke was the cabin counselor for the largest cabin at camp and the one that taught most of the kids at camp how to even hold a sword. So while not true it holds weight to it in a different way.

i hate that rick dunks on the movies so much because they are a formative part of my childhood and introduction into percy jackson as a whole. i acknowledge they are bad, but when i first went into them i thought it was great, and it got me hooked it got me to read the books. I could then watch sea of monsters with a critical eye. i could appreciate what they actors were doing more, like how jake fought to keep the scar luke got cause even if it was obtained wrong he knew it was important for his character to have.

the movies are bad, yes, but without them i would not have read the books, and i would not have started writing luke in 2011 in my very first tumblr rp (yes i have been writing this bozo for 13 years and i have been in the trenches since i've always been like this about him and the fandom's ignoring of the abuse and neglect and such that luke received).

So yes the movies are bad. But Rick's treatment of them, and the actors who still to this day love them is awful. And you know how I know cause they still interact, they show support. Hell when Jake was promoting the Host he did a book signing I brought a Percy Jackson book he loudly said "Screw the Host" with Stephanie Meyer RIGHT THERE, then gushed about how he loved Percy Jackson and how much it meant to him.

There is a reason the fandom wanted the cast from the movies to make cameos. Their is still an appreciation for the movies, plus the cast is filled with amazing actors.

Adaptations can be bad, but just remember someone might have read a book because of them.

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

"My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers?"

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

words: 2,994

warnings: cursing, mentions of genitalia

category: one-shot, soulmate!au

You don’t know who your soulmate is, but when you find out, you know the first thing you’ll do is punch him in his face. You don’t understand why he does this. Why can’t he be romantic like everyone else? You have a few friends who have the same connection you share with your soulmate, through your skin. Your friends rise from their slumbers with beautiful sketches on their arms; Or throughout the day, lines will appear as they’re being drawn, creating the most beautiful artwork you’ve ever seen. However, of course, you don’t get that; instead, you get this.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with pure disbelief, and you can’t decide whether to cry or scream. You’re used to these kinds of drawings in places like your arms, stomach, and legs, so they were easy to hide. But this has never happened before; it's never been in a place so… so visible.

You fill with rage as you observe the sloppily drawn dick on your forehead and your fist clenches as it lays on top of your bathroom sink. You fucking ass. How the hell am I going to hide this? You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, and you have this vulgar drawing on your forehead. You’re sure if you tell your boss your situation, he’d probably dismiss you because this is obviously not appropriate for the workplace. Still, you can’t even imagine trying to explain this to him. It was way too embarrassing.

"What am I going to do?” You whine as you rub your hands on your face. The drawing won’t be removed from your skin unless your soulmate removes it on his, so you had to think of a solution right away.

“Where could he possibly be where this is acceptable?” You try to refrain from sobbing hopelessly as your frantic mind searches for a solution. You think maybe a hat will work, but you discard the idea knowing your boss will tell you to take it off once you’re indoors. Suddenly, like a sign from the heavens, your solution hits you right in the face when you catch sight of your makeup bag lying on the toilet seat. You reach over, grabbing the pouch and unzipping it. Your quivering hands move too fast, causing the products to fall out and scatter into the sink. Your eyes skim over them in search of your thickest foundation and concealer. When you find them, along with your primer, you sigh, saying a silent prayer before getting to work.

***

Leo gasps sharply as the sight of his face in the mirror shocks him out of his fatigue. He touches his forehead, trying to recall the memory of last night while ignoring the pounding headache surging through his skull. He remembers getting to the club with a group of friends and how they took one shot after another until their vision was blurry. He has a faint memory of dancing with some girl, and the chaos of his 4 am Macdonald’s run with his friends. However, he doesn't recall the moment when this picture was drawn on his face. When did this happen? More importantly, who did this? He pauses, gawking at his reflection. His jaw clenches as the culprit comes to mind. He felt foolish for questioning who did this because he lives with, and he went home with one person last night, and that's Percy.

“Percy!” He yells angrily, and in the next room, he hears Percy’s manic laughter getting louder as he runs down the hall and into the bathroom with him. Percy can’t help but laugh even harder at the sight of a distressed Leo, and he silently congratulates himself for pulling such a successful prank. Leo’s expression hardens, and his gaze snaps over to him, “It's not funny!”

Percy snorts and nudges his shoulder, "Come on, loosen up!" Leo laughs sarcastically,

"Come on, loosen up!" He mocks with clear annoyance, making Percy’s laughter ceases. Leo usually takes things like this so well; he's never been angry at him because of a childish prank. The two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since they moved in together, and they would always laugh it out while deviously planning their revenge. Percy tilts his head, now growing annoyed that Leo’s annoyed.

"Why are you so uptight today?" He almost snaps, not understanding his fury. Leo's eyes narrow at him,

"My soulmate is linked to my skin." He speaks slowly and carefully, accentuating his words to make sure Percy understands how bad this is. Percy's mouth drops open, and he stares at the vulgar art on his forehead.

"Oh… shit," is the only thing he can think of saying. “Fuck, I forgot. I’m sorry,” Percy apologizes even though he knows it doesn’t help anything. He didn’t share the same connection with his soulmate, so he had forgotten entirely about Leo’s bond with his. He’s now left with regret knowing that there's someone out there going along their day trying to hide this lewd image.

Leo groans as he throws his head back. "I-It'll wash off? Right?"

Leo flips up the sink’s nozzle, dipping his head in the cold tap water to wet his face. He scrubs with his fingers, blindly grasping the soap next to him. He runs it over, spreading the suds and lightly scratching his forehead. He rinses everything off and returns to his original position to check his face now. He yells in panic when he sees the drawing didn't budge at all; it didn't even fade. Percy audibly gasps,

"I used permanent marker."

"BRO!"

"I'm sorry!"

Percy shifts on his feet as the memory of last night comes back to him. Leo fell asleep in the cab ride home, and Percy, somehow without much balance, carried him over his shoulder into their apartment complex. He squints his eyes, and with a vague remembrance, he recalls plopping him down on the couch. Leo was unconscious, and Percy’s drunk mind saw this as a perfect opportunity to prank him. He picked the first marker he saw, and in the middle of a giggling fit, he sloppily drew the phallic item and took a picture.

Leo frantically puts his head back in the sink to scrub again, and Percy stands by the door, watching panic wash over him. Leo continues scrubbing his skin, and though his skin becomes red under the friction of his nails, he persists. Percy shakes his head, walking over to him quickly, and he pats his shoulder.

"Come on, man. It's not working; you’re gonna hurt yourself." If Percy let him, Leo would scrub his skin raw. He disregards his advice and continues to scrub, bringing the soap over the drawing once again before scratching harshly. Percy, not wanting his friend to hurt himself, turns off the tap, and Leo groans, standing straight. He stares at himself in the mirror, his face dripping wet, and his skin is red with irritation. I'm so sorry.

***

Your day hasn't gotten any better since this morning. First, you wake with a dick on your forehead; second, you miss your bus because you took so much time layering makeup on your face. Then, you get to work about 15 minutes late because your commute, which usually took about 5 minutes, was delayed due to traffic. You assumed that your day couldn’t get any worse, but you discovered you spoke too soon when the system your job uses to put in orders crashed, making your job even harder than it had to be. Also, you spilled hot coffee on yourself during the morning rush, and that almost sent you straight into tears, but somehow, you prevailed.

By the afternoon, you wanted to rip your hair out when you realized you forgot your wallet, leaving you unfed and cranky. Your boss was no help to your mood either. He picked at everything you did today and held a grudge about you being late this morning. You've never had such a shitty day at work, and there is a sense of relief when you witnessed the clock turn to 4:30 pm. You immediately stood up from your chair, collecting your things before walking straight to the computer to clock out.

The last challenge you're facing is to get home in the slippery aftermath of the pouring rain earlier today. It was colder than usual; the sun’s hidden behind stormy gray clouds, and the smell of wet soil is in the air. You shiver, your arms wrapped around your frame in a poor attempt to keep you warm. You don't have an umbrella, and you hope it doesn’t start raining again. You were sure that if your makeup washes away in the rain for everyone to see the mystery under it, you will lose your mind.

You stand in the corner of the waiting shed, resting your head on the side. You take a deep breath, noticing your hands are anxiously chipping away the week-old nail polish. From the corner of your eye, you see someone join you under the shed, and out of usual curiosity, you look over. A tall, slender guy stands in the opposite corner; he wears distressed blue jeans, a black hoodie with a print you can’t see from your view, and a black winter hat. In his hands, he fiddles with a piece of scrap metal. His skin was tan, and his brown curly hair peeks from under his hat. Oblivious to your staring, he looks away from his fiddling and happens to glance over at you. There's a moment of awkward eye contact before you snap your vision away and out to the street.

You cringe at yourself for staring too long, shifting on your feet. You casually lean over the side of the curve, and you swear the light of the heavens was shining on your bus as it drove toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over you. It’s here; you were one step closer to getting home and relaxing.

The excitement was taken away as quickly as it arrived, your bus passing your stop making a mini tsunami in the process. A wave of water splashes directly on you, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You stand there, cold and wet staring blankly at the curve. You felt overwhelmed, not being able to hold back the cries that you’ve been suppressing all day.

"are you-" a sob releases from your lips, stunning the unknown guy next to you. You miserably walk over to the bench, plopping down and resting your elbows on your thighs to lay your head in your hands. You sob freely, not caring about the boy's presence, and he stands in his spot, not sure what to do. He had an innate urge to make you feel better, and he doesn't know why but it pains him to see you like this. He clears his throat and decides to settle in the seat next to you. "Bad day?"

You sniffle, trying to find your breath, "The worst."

You don't look up, your hands doing their part to cover your face and your forehead. "I don't understand why everything is going so wrong.” You didn’t even care that you were pitying yourself, but you felt like you had the right considering how shit your day has been.

"I woke up with an awful drawing from my soulmate. I was late for my bus, which made me late to work; I haven't had lunch either. I'm hungry, cold, and now, soaking wet in street water." You sniffle once more. "My soulmate is so mean. He’s done nothing good with these stupid drawings. You know, all I want is something cute, like a picture of, maybe, flowers? I'd even take a tacky picture of two stick figures falling in love... shit; I’d be satisfied with a grocery list. But of course, with my luck, that doesn't happen. I get stupid drawings of... genitalia."

Leo’s body tenses next to you, and his teeth bite the inside of his lip. Drawings of genitalia? Sounds like him. Now he needed to see this drawing you were talking about, and he feels himself getting anxious at the possibility that you could be his soulmate. You continue to cry, refusing to move from your position.

"Well... it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, it's bad,” you managed to respond in your ragged breathing. Leo hesitantly reaches over, affectionately rubbing his hand across your upper back. Your breath hitches softly at the back of your throat, and there is a surge of warmth that radiates from his hand. You feel your tense shoulders begin to relax, and you furrow your eyebrows as your breath miraculously finds its regular pace. You even have this strange desire to cuddle into his frame to acquire more of his touch.

"Come on, show me. It's probably not as bad as you think." He speaks from his experience this morning. If you aren't his soulmate, he's sure that whatever you have isn't as traumatic as what he and his soulmate have.

"No! You'll laugh," you whine, your head laying firmly on your hands.

"I won't! I promise." You can tell from his voice that he was genuine, and for some reason, you can trust him. You slowly remove your hands from your face, but your head is still in an embarrassed bow. His heart pounds in his chest at the anticipation and leans forward to get a look at your face. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his initial reaction.

There it was. Right under your concealer, there is the familiar drawing faintly present. Leo's mouth drops, and his eyes widen; how is he going to tell you that he has the same picture on his forehead? You sigh shakily,

"It's bad, isn't it?" Your face burns in pure humiliation, and you now regret showing him. Leo is silent for a bit, trying to find words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes flutter open to look at his guilty expression.

"Why are you sorry?" He doesn't even attempt to explain himself in words. He simply slides off his winter hat, showing you the original drawing on his skin. You inhale sharply, your mind trying to process what is happening in front of you.

He's your soulmate, the person that you ideally would spend your life with. You didn't think you'd find him anytime soon or even at all. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, and your cheeks get warm. You both gaze into each other’s eyes, and there was an immediate connection. You take in the tousled curls on his head, a bit frizzy from his hat and his big brown eyes. Your heart pumps hard in your chest, just as fast as the boy’s heart in front of you.

A few people told you that you’d feel like the world will slow down when you meet your soulmate. You’ll feel complete, and all at once, you’ll fall in love. You thought it was a load of over-romanticized bull, but you found that it was true even with your strange circumstance.

You finally found him…

But he's done this.

Your anger somehow counteracts this "in love" feeling, and you momentarily hate him for starting your day off on a sour note.

"You!" Your arms lift to strike him in the chest, but before you could attack, he grasps your tight fists.

"I'm sorry! I can explain!" He says quickly. Your arms loosen up, and you narrow your eyes at him,

"Explain yourself then." Sheepishly Leo cowers and his hands remain around your fist, just in case.

"Well," he sighs, "I partied a little too hard last night, and um, my roommate, Percy, thought it would be funny to draw this on my forehead."

"Your roommate is an ass."

"Well, yeah. Sometimes. But he was just as drunk as I was, and he didn't realize that the marker was permanent. When I saw it, I immediately thought of you, and how you’d have to walk around with this." He chews on the inside of his cheek, "I tried getting it off, but it won’t go away." You sigh, willing to forgive him since it wasn't his fault.

"So, we're gonna have this for a while?"

"Probably a couple of days or so." You groan and don’t say anything in return. You look down at your lap, still hiding your face from anyone around. "Oh, here, take my sweatshirt. The hoodie can keep it hidden.” He puts his hat back on and pulls his sweatshirt over his body, passing it to you. You smile softly as you take it from him. You pull it over your still soaked and cold frame, slipping your arms in and bringing the hood up. You mutter a small thank you, shoving your hands in the front pocket. He replies with a hum, allowing the sounds of the passing cars to fill your comfortable silence.

"Again, I'm sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, and you turn your head. You smile reassuringly,

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time,” you say teasingly, and he chuckles. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Leo." You reach over, taking his hand, and you guys share a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, soulmate.”

masterlists

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 6: Age 18 

“California is pretty far away,” Percy says softly into the night as Annabeth lays on the rooftop by his side. He hears her shift so that she can look at him, and he mirrors her, looking at his reflection in her pale eyes. 

“2914.9 miles,” she answers. 

“You really had to choose the farthest college from me didn’t you?”

Annabeth snorts and shakes her head. 

“Yes Percy, I chose it purely because it’s the furthest from you in particular.” He pouts and pushes himself up on an elbow so he can look down at her. 

“Why are you leaving me?”

“I’m not just leaving you Perce, I’m leaving everyone else as well. My Dad, my brothers, Thals, Grover...not just you.” Her face shifts and he sees sadness replace her joking smirk. 

“Yeah but I’m special...I’m your favourite.” Percy is half-joking but he wishes with all his heart that the first part of his sentence is true, that he is in fact special to Annabeth. Special in the same way that Annabeth is special to him. 

“Don’t let Thals hear that,” Annabeth says, rolling her eyes but Percy leans in closer, poking her repeatedly until she’s laughing. 

“You’re only saying that because it’s true.”

“Shut up.” Percy notices how she doesn’t deny it and it brings a smile to his face. 

 “I’m going to miss you.” His heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze as his voice softens and his smile drops. Annabeth gives him a sad look and pokes his chest trying to get him to look at her properly. 

“Don’t get all sappy on me now Seaweed Brain, we’ve still got summer.”

“And then you leave and forget me, and find a cool Perry Johnson to be your new best friend.” He says and dramatically throws his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s about to faint. 

Annabeth groans and pushes him away so he falls back on the blanket they’ve laid out. The other two aren’t due to arrive for another hour, but Percy has been spending so much time at Annabeth’s house already, that it made no sense to go back to his last night, so he stayed over and helped set up the apartment rooftop for their sleepover under the stars. 

He thinks they’ve done a pretty good job for the two of them, there’s an array of pillows, blankets and sheets all over the floor, and plenty of snacks to last them through the night. A couple of years ago, way back when they were younger, Mr Chase set up fairy lights along the edge of the roof, so they’re not in complete darkness, not that New York can ever be truly dark. The lights illuminate Annabeth’s features as Percy turns his head to her, she looks like a goddess and Percy swallows deeply when she returns his stare. 

“What are you looking at?”

Percy shrugs and sits up so he can rearrange snacks that don’t need rearranging to hide his blush at being caught. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot! Can you sign this, you never did?” Annabeth says changing the subject and tugs on his arm so he can come back and sit with her. 

He looks at her confused until she brings out her yearbook. Their school emblem shines on the front cover, and she places it in his lap, pressing herself to his side, so she can flip the pages, looking for an empty space to write. On the back, there’s an entire blank page and she smooths the paper down and hands him a marker. 

“All yours.” She says and watches him expectantly. 

“Are you going to watch me write in it?” He twirls the pen uneasily and rubs the back of his neck, slightly uncomfortable under her intense gaze. 

Annabeth huffs. “Do you want me to leave?” 

“Can you?” He asks half-jokingly. 

“You’re such an idiot. Fine. I’ll go check if there’s anything we forgot downstairs. Do you want anything?” He grins as she shakes her head, pretending to be annoyed. 

“Anything blue.”

“Of course,” she mutters and gets up, using his shoulder to steady herself. He leans into the touch and tries to ignore the way his body misses her warmth when she leaves.  

When she leaves Percy flips back to the front, reliving their senior year, one page at a time. He skips past the photos of the people in his grade and goes straight to the events. It starts with homecoming, and there’s a photo of Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Thalia all dressed in black suits. Percy smiles fondly at the close-up photo of Thalia and Annabeth posing together, in matching suits and corsets. Since Thalia broke up with Luke, she’s reintegrated back into the group with no issue, and it’s like she never left. 

He turns the page, skipping through the other homecoming photos, and pauses at the one of him and Annabeth. It’s a candid, and even though he’s already seen it, his heart still stutters, because in the photo she’s fixing his hair in the photo right before the official photos like she always does, and Percy can’t help but think about how much they look like a couple. 

He keeps turning through the pages, trying to find more photos of their group. They’re not a very social group, preferring to hang out with each other than go to school events, but they’re at all the major ones. 

There are small snippets of them at the football games, student fairs and pep rallies, it’s not till the end where there are photos that focus more on students not part of clubs that he sees more pictures of his friends. 

There’s one of them all laying on their back enjoying the sun looking up at clouds the way they used to when they were kids (completely unaware that someone is taking photos of them). There’s even a photo of Grover with Thalia on his shoulder as she tries to climb a tree with toilet paper in her hand from prank day. The next one is a blurry photo of Percy completely wrapped in toilet paper and chasing Annabeth. 

Moments from their senior year have been captured and immortalised in these pages, and Percy’s heart heaves at the thought of leaving this all behind or watching people leave. 

Tears start to prick at his eyes as he reaches the graduation and prom photos. There’s a huge shot of his entire grade, a choice of a few students throwing their caps up. In the corner on the page before the prom photos, there's a small snapshot of the four of them, their arms thrown around each other, heads pressed together. He remembers this moment vividly. All of their names are relatively close together in the roll, so as soon as they were announced, he had bolted straight to Grover, who had bolted to Thalia, who had bolted to Annabeth, and they had all ended up screaming and jumping into each other's arms. 

He’s going to miss this. 

He finally comes to the prom photos, and he’s not surprised when his breath catches in his throat when he sees Annabeth in her prom dress again. It’s a deep blue, the colour of the sky above his head, and it makes his stomach flutter each time he sees it. In the photo, she’s posing with Thalia again, but she’s mid-laugh and Percy would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favourite photos of her. He has copies of photos from the night on his computer, but the ones taken at the venue are better quality, it’s almost like he’s back there in the moment. 

Thalia had come with a date, once again wearing a tight-fitting suit, a girl on her arm and Grover had brought Juniper, his girlfriend. Percy and Annabeth had agreed to go together, just because it was easier. 

“Platonically,” he remembers telling Grover. He remembers Grover laughing and shaking his head. 

“There is nothing platonic about you two but okay. Have fun, Perce.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grover had never explained what he meant and it still haunted Percy. 

There isn’t a photo of the two of them at prom together, at least not in the yearbook, but he asked for a favour from a friend in the yearbook committee and has the photos that didn’t make it on a USB drive back home. His favourite is his wallpaper, and it’s of him and Annabeth dancing their heads bent close together. It’s not obvious it’s them two but he can recognise her blonde hair anywhere. That’s another moment he holds close, them dancing and swaying to a song they don’t recognise, whispering to each other in the night. He’d almost told her that night. Told her everything, about what he felt, about how he would always feel, but when she let go, he realised that he didn’t want to risk losing what they had. It was too precious to him. 

Percy finally reaches the page that Annabeth initially brought him to and he uncaps the pen, tapping the back of it against the page a couple of times trying to think of a message. It’s not an accident that he didn’t write in Annabeth’s yearbook. When they were all doing it, Percy had purposefully avoided her because he knew that what he had to say to her couldn’t be said like this. 

He sighs as he begins a doodle instead. A little owl because he knows that they’re her favourite, and a dolphin because they’re his. His mind is still blank at what to write to her, but he knows she’s not going to let him get away with not doing it this time. 

He hears footsteps coming up the staircase and he writes the first thing that comes to his mind. The only thing that never leaves his mind when he’s around Annabeth. It’s not a long message so he’s finishing it just as Annabeth sits back down. He slams the book shut and chucks it behind him so that she can’t immediately read it. She notices and raises an eyebrow. 

“Read it later. It’s embarrassing,” he says sheepishly. She laughs and hands him a bag of sour blue candy stripes. He tears open the package and starts eating as he hears other footsteps. Grover and Thalia appear in the doorway, holding pillows and even more bags of snacks. 

“Let’s get this party started!” Thalia exclaims and drops her stuff unceremoniously on top of Percy, burying him under the wright. Everyone laughs at him as he sputters his way out. 

Thalia plugs in some music and Annabeth helps pull Percy to his feet, and they start the feast of snacks. Grover helps Percy set up a projector for their movie and it’s nearing midnight when they finally settle on Disney’s Hercules. 

As always Grover falls asleep halfway through the movie, murmuring about how his tummy hurts in his sleep. They take group selfies with him, and Percy grabs the marker next to Annabeth’s yearbook so that he can draw on Grover’s face. He’s holding back giggles with Thalia as they pose next to him and Annabeth takes a photo of them. 

He pulls both girls close to him when he falls back and squeezes their shoulders. 

“I can’t believe my favourite girls are leaving me to deal with this idiot,” he says and nods to Grover who has started snoring. Thalia scoffs and pushes his face so that he lets go of her. He gives in but doesn’t take his arm off Annabeth, and he swears that Annabeth cuddles just a bit closer to him. 

“We’re not dying, Percy, we’re just moving to the West Coast,” Thalia says as she opens a can of coke and Percy briefly remembers how he first met Annabeth and how she had protected him from Nancy. He exchanges a look with her and sees that she’s already smiling at him, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. 

“Betrayal. That’s what this is,” he says and squeezes Annabeth’s shoulder again. She threads their hands together and Percy tries not to react and turn to her again. 

Thalia catches his eye and smirks at their interlocked hands. 

She stands up and brushes her pants. 

“I need to go pee, do you two need anything from downstairs?” 

They both shake their heads and she nods before carefully stepping over a sleeping Grover and leaves the two of them. 

Percy and Annabeth stay like that, leaning on each other, hands interlocked and Percy wishes he could freeze this exact moment. 

“Did you write something?” Annabeth asks softly as she pulls away from him, but doesn’t let go of his hand. Percy nods tightly and she smiles as she reaches across from him and grabs the yearbook from their makeshift table. She skips straight to the back and opens to his page. She gave him an entire page to write on, but there’s only one sentence in the middle and two small doodles. She stares at it for a moment, rereading it before she looks up. 

“You’re my number one,” Annabeth reads, holding the yearbook open at his page, “What does that mean?”

Percy swallows, suddenly terrified. There’s no time like now to tell her, and he has no real doubts about loving her, but with her unflinching gaze on him like this, it’s hard not to be nervous. He tries not to overthink and takes a deep breath, speaking the truth that he’s kept under wraps for years. 

“There’s only one meaning, Wise Girl, what else could it mean?” He says with a shrug and reaches for her hand. She lets him take it. “My Mom once said that people who have a big heart have a lot of love in them to share, but they’ll always have their number one, and that’s you. That’s been you for years, my entire life probably.”

He takes another breath and waits for Annabeth to respond. When she doesn’t he continues, suddenly full of words. “You’re the one for me. The only one that I could ever want. The one I put before everything. You’re my-”

“Do you mean that?” Her face is full of doubt and Percy brings their joined hands up so he can press his lips to the back of her hand. 

“Of course,” he breathes, and pulls her closer. He’s barely breathing when she puts the yearbook down for a moment. They stay frozen like that, pressed against each other, foreheads touching and breath mingling.  

“I think I was made for loving you,” he whispers and carefully pushes her hair back. 

The smile she gives him is one to rival the sun that is going to rise in a few hours. 

“If that’s so, then I was made for loving you just as much.”

She kisses him, and he almost forgets his name. He brings his hands up to cup face and bring her closer and she smiles against his lips and-

“Seriously? You two couldn’t wait until after I was asleep. Jeez.” 

Annabeth jerks away from him and they both stare at Thalia who is giving them a tired look from the rooftop doorway. Percy can’t help it and starts laughing, shortly after Annabeth joins and falls onto his chest, laughing too hard to keep herself up. Eventually, Thalia sits back down and bites her lip trying not to laugh, but the more she tries to keep it in the funnier it gets. 

By then all three of them are laughing so hard their stomach hurts and Grover stirs awake. 

“What’s going on?”

“This,” Annabeth says and proudly holds up her hand that is still firmly clasped in Percy’s hand. 

Grover blinks sleepily at it and shrugs like it’s not a big deal. 

“About freaking time,” he says and lays back down. 

Percy and Annabeth look at each other again and he smiles at her before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. 

“It was worth the wait.” 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

Nico di Angelo was ten years old when his life went to hell. He never felt so devastated, so ruined. The only person who cared about him, his family, his everything was gone.

Nico hated all of them. He hated sister for leaving him behind, as if he was nothing, just to die afterwards and leave him completely alone. He hated those stupid huntresses of Artemis for taking his sister away from him. He hated Annabeth Chase, whoever it was, for falling off the cliff and making them go on this quest. But most of all he hated him. Percy Jackson. The ultimate hero, so strong and cool. He hated everything about him. He let him down. Percy Jackson let his sister die.

It was already a month since Bianca left this world. A lonely, cold month. Grieve still strangled him. This month has passed in a blur.

Nico passed an empty street, not even bothering to lift up his head. Snow was falling from the white sky and Nico shivered slightly from the cold. He needs to find some warmer clothes.

The city clock struck twelve, sound cutting through the silence. Another day has come. As if Nico cared. Suddenly he stopped, absentmindedly looking at the date on the billboard. 28th January.

Nico titled his head. He didn’t even know his birthday was coming. He always loved his birthday, so excited to modestly celebrate it with Bianca. Bianca…

A lonely tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another. Nico didn’t bother to wipe them, letting them fall.

“Happy Birthday to me.” He said in a shaky voice, sitting in the snow right in the middle of the street. Nico buried his face in his palms, trying to quiet down choked sobs.

Nico di Angelo was eleven years old when he lost himself.

*

Nico di Angelo was eleven when he started to chase the dream of making his sister come back to life. He was obsessed with the idea, almost going mad in the company of hurt and angry ghosts.

Minos had promised him that he’ll see Bianca again. And Nico believed. What else he could do. He was alone. He was hurt.

Why can’t she talk to him? Why she doesn’t want to show up? She doesn’t want to see him. She despises him. She doesn’t want him.

Nico heard rustling sound under his boots. He picked up the newspaper, catching the date with his eyes. 1st February.

Well, another year passed. Nico didn’t care that he missed his birthday. But a little ache didn’t want to leave his heart as he remembered how Bianca smiled at him the day he turned ten.

And then, months later, she showed up, just to say him that he has to let go. Just to make Nico know that this plan wouldn’t work. Minos was a liar. He used Nico. His only hope was trampled.

Misery was what Nico felt. The weird, nasty feeling crawled up to his throat.

Aside from that, one image didn’t want to leave his mind. His face lived in his head, not wanting to leave. His stupid smile, green eyes, tousled hair. Why Nico keeps thinking of him?

Why did she want to talk to him, not Nico? This stupid guy, with his annoying grin made Nico want to- What?

Nico freezed, trying to finish this though. Did Nico want to kill him? Hurt him? No, it was something else. He felt weird every time he heard his name. Percy Jackson.

Nico di Angelo was twelve when he started to realize something about himself.

*

Nico di Angelo was twelve when he wanted to rip out his own heart. Abnormal, disgusting. He was sick of himself. He felt nauseous at the very thought of it.

It can’t be true, no. He’s mistaken.

He was lying on his bed at his father’s castle, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his face. Those gorgeous green eyes, goofy smile, tousled black hair. His mind was ranting: Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson.

Nico felt like he was about to cry. Why is he like this? Is he broken?

He looked to the side, at his night table. A bouquet of red roses stood there. An hour ago Persephone strode to his room with these flowers and a weird expression on her face. She silently put them in a vase and went back to the door. She stopped there, turning her head a little to look at him.

“Happy Birthday.” Was what she said. Then she left.

So it was his birthday. He’s thirteen now.

Nico stared at the flowers, a little bit shocked. She remembered about his birthday. His father didn’t even bother to check up on him.

Hades only cared about their deal. Nico was very hesitant about that. But after all, he agreed.

He just thought that if he does that then maybe Percy would… Like him? But he didn’t.

Percy Jackson hated him. He screwed everything up. It was horrible. He had to fix it.

So he did the best thing he could. He had to prove to Percy, to his father, to everyone that he is worth something. He was just a kid and the battle was scary. He was scared. But he was a hero.

Everyone respected him, some people wanted to be his friends. He even wanted to stay at camp. Nico was happy but only for a moment.

Days after the battle the whole camp started talking about how Percy and Annabeth finally kissed and got together.

Nico left without a warning. Not like he had anyone to warn. Not like anyone cared.

Nico di Angelo was thirteen when his heart was broken.

*

Nico di Angelo was thirteen when Percy Jackson had gone missing. Annabeth Chase went feral. And Nico promised to help. Of course he did.

He was actually worried. What could happen to him? Nico only knew that Percy was alive. It was somewhat reassuring.

Something bad was about to happen. Nico knew it. New demigods at Camp Half-Blood. One of them is a son of Zeus. That was a bad sign.

And now that Nico knows about romans…

Today was 28th January. His birthday. He already got used to ignore this day. Nico just marked the fact that he was fourteen now.

The door of his room swung open. Nico sat up on his bed, seeing his father in his usual black robes.

He stood there in silence for a minute or so, awkwardly staring at his son.

“Um, did you want something?” Nico said, nervously fumbling with the ring on his finger.

“Yes.” Hades came closer to his bed. “Well, not really. It’s just…” Lord of the Underworld sat on the corner of Nico’s bed. “It’s your birthday.”

Nico blinked, processing what his father was trying to say.

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for reminding me.” He finally said, scowling at his father. Like he ever cared about Nico anyway. “If that’s all you wanted to say-“

“No.” Hades looked strangely awkward. “You made me proud this year, you know?”

Nico’s eyes widened. Was his father trying to praise him?

“I wanted to say that I’m… Grateful. You made me make right choice. And what I said about you before… I’m sorry.”

Nico was more than shocked at this point. He felt awkward and Hades didn’t look better.

“Anyway, I vaguely know that mortals usually make gifts for the day one came from mother’s womb. And I thought that maybe you should spend time with your… peers?”

“What are you trying to say, dad?”

Hades took a deep breath, as if he was nervous.

“I want to give you a present. So that you will be able to go wherever you want, in those places where teenagers usually spend time.”

“You want to give me a car?” Nico asked, puzzled.

“No, you’re too young for that. I’ll give you a chauffeur, he’ll be helping you go to the mall or something. Because, well… I’m not able to do it for you.”

Nico blinked again, titling his head to the side.

“A chauffeur?”

Hades looked embarrassed for a moment. Then he put on a stern expression, standing up.

“Objections are not accepted. You should be grateful.” He strode off to the door. Then he stopped. “Happy Birthday, son.” He closed the door, leaving Nico alone in the dark room.

Nico di Angelo was fourteen when he received his first birthday present.

*

Nico di Angelo was fourteen when he met him. Will Solace.

It felt like a dawn after long, cold night. Will was his blessing, his salvation. And Nico didn't know what did he do to deserve someone like Will.

They've been dating for a couple of months, wonderful, amazing months. And Nico was genuinely thankful for everything Will had done to him.

Nico woke up at the knock on his door, blinking through the gloom of Hades cabin. He didn't know if it was morning already, because black curtains prevented any gleam of sunshine from crawling into his cabin.

Still, Nico knew exactly that it was early and he knew exactly who was outside, because there was only one person in this world who dared to wake him up.

Nico got out of bed and staggering came to open up the door.

Will Solace stood on the threshold. He was wearing his usual winter jacket and a scarf, a blinding smile on his face. He seemed to be particularly happy today and, judging by the flush on his face, he was running.

"Hey, Neeks." He ruffled his hair and came in, closing the door behind him as Nico shivered from the cold winter air.

"Good morning." Nico mumbled, still half asleep. "What time is it?"

"7 a.m."

"Why did you need to wake me up so early?"

Will looked him in the eyes, taking Nico’s cold hand with his warm one, which is weird, considering Will was the one who had a walk on winter air.

"Do you know what day it is?" He looked excited.

"Um, no, to be honest. I don't pay attention to the calendar." Nico sat down on his bed, wrapping himself in a blanket.

Will looked shocked.

"Are you serious?! I mean... It's 28th January!"

Nico's brain needed a moment to process what exactly Will wanted from him.

"Yeah. So?"

"So?! It's your birthday!"

Nico sighed.

"Guess I'm fifteen now. That also explains this." He pointed to his bedside table, where black envelope was perched on the top of black box. "Probably from my father."

Will looked at him, then at the envelope.

"So, like... Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." Nico got up again, reaching for the box. "Now go so I can change."

"Ok." Will strode off to the door, a strange expression on his face. Though Nico didn't pay much attention to it.

Nico opened the envelope. There was a thick wad of money and an invitation for a dinner. Nico will come, of course, but not today. In the box lay watches and a book in Italian.

The day went by as usual. Nico had a walk in the woods with Will before breakfast, then they were busy with their camp activities.

In the evening, right before they were about to go to the campfire, Will took his arm and told him.

"How about we won't go to the campfire today?"

"But you like-"

"I don't need to go there everyday. Especially today. Come to your cabin in twenty minutes." And he hastily strode off in the direction of the cabin thirteen.

Nico came in after twenty minutes to be met with dozens of candles around his room. Will was standing in front of him, holding a cake with fifteen lighted candles perched on it.

"Make a wish." He whispered as Nico came closer.

Nico looked him in the eyes and didn't know what to say. So he just did what he was told. Will smiled brighter.

"I baked it myself." He said proudly. "Well, Cecil helped me."

He put the cake on the table, now fumbling in his pockets.

"I have something for you, actually." He said, pulling out a small box from his pocket. "I don't know if you're going to like it but..."

Nico didn't hear what Will was saying as he opened the box with trembling hands. He pulled out a sun pendant on a thin gold chain. The sun looked just like the tattoo on Will's shoulder.

Nico couldn't hold back a tear that rolled down his cheek. Will watched him attentively, stopping his ranting when he saw it.

"Nico, what's wrong-"

The next thing Will knew, pale arms was wrapped tightly around him, Nico's face buried in Will's chest.

"Thank you." Nico said in a small, shaky voice before pulling back. He placed the sun pendant on his palm, watching it glisten in the candle light. Tears still rolled down his cheeks.

Will looked at him, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. He always understood. His sunshine was so alone, for so long. All Will wanted was to make him happy.

Will moved to embrace Nico in a tight hug, kissing the top of his head and then lifted his head with long, gentle fingers on his chin.

"I love you so much." He said. "You're such an amazing person. You're brave, gorgeous, smart, brilliant. Beautiful." He wiped the tear from Nico's cheek. "I will love you with all my might. I promise."

And with that he gently kissed Nico, making him smile while the tears of joy kept rolling down his cheeks.

"I love you, Will."

Nico di Angelo was fifteen when he found his happiness.

I will expose my ship prefernce, At Flourish and Blotts...

Since, the last chapter we have had to the normal length of the chapter, around 20 pages per chapter. If I am not reading 20 pages or so, I don't feel like I am reading anything. So, the setup arc is over. on to some action.

Now back to Flourish and Blotts, I saw the Harry Potter movies first, so Harry and Ginny's first interaction in this movie was utterly cute and thankfully we get plentiful of cuteness of Hinny in this chapter. Those made me squeal!

I am also happy that we will get much more Ginny in now. She is one of the underrated character. Not because of the movie treatment (though that does have some contribution) but because her character development almost happens parallel to our trio and mainly in the background. So, we only get a few glimpses of what she is and how is doing. And why doesn't Ginny join the boys for the Quidditch game?

Floo network is used because of underage wizards but what if you don't have a fireplace?

Harry always seems to meet Draco outside the school, tell me that it's not the leading couple from romantic movies crashing into each other. And apparently, Draco has been talking about Harry all summer and not only Harry he was talking about Hermione as well, that is crush, Draco! I smell Bi-panic, Draco! This settlement is not up for debate. I have settled that Hogwarts is gay-paradise. It is!

Harry getting into Knockturn Alley was just aesthetically pleasing to me. I don't know why. Don't ask me to explain because I can't!

And yes, I did say I am Hinny shipper but I can't ignore the signs in the book, also I can ship more than one couple, and I will! I like ship Harry x Draco (that's how I was exposed to this ship, again I am showing my age.), Romione, Dramione, Hinny and much more. Honestly ship topic needs its own blog.

I am not gonna comment on the Welsey family's financial situation. Just a few sliver Sickles and one gold how will that even work?

I was wrong about all witches and wizards having deep characterization because Percy is cartoonishly derived to become a perfect Perfect!

I just love the fact that Ron and Draco are wizards but every time Draco piss off Ron, Ron's first instinct is to punch him. Brawling among boys transcend into the wizarding world! Later on, Arthur Weasley actually threw himself at Lucious Malfoy!!! That I forgot about that.

After the Brawl between Arthur and Lucious, Hagrid said something among line like bad blood in the Malfoy family. that settlement did not settle well with me... Hagrid you are better than this.

Lover - Percy Jackson x Fem!reader

SUMMARY: You’ve crushed on Percy for years, him on the other hand? It’s more of a recent development. That doesn’t mean he likes you any less.

(Older Percy & reader - they're like 21) ALSO idk perfectly what happens in trials of apollo so let’s just ✨ignore that ✨ & this isn’t sexual despite what the title may suggest

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: hi friends this is for @fromthewatertribe​ ‘s 1k follower event!! Im sure most of you have but if not definitely check out their work!! Its soooo good I promises and ugh their Leo fic?! *chefs kiss* anyway idk if this is any good oop I tried

PROMPTS USED: 9 & 11. (they’re bolded)

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of ptsd & anxiety, kissing stuff lol ish eh idk, mentions of percabeth breakup?? Does that count?

MASTERLIST: here!

An obnoxiously red and orange light filters into the motel room, even with the old and tattered curtains closed, the motels’ sign conquers its way through the fabric. Sighing you flop yourself on the faded, probably twenty-year-old bed. Nose scrunching as some dust raises into the air, consequently letting out a sneeze.

“Bless you.”

“Did you just bless yourself?”

You winced at the reminder someone else was in the room, exhausted after the two-day travel to a motel room in the middle of whoop. “Yeah…”

“You really are something, aren’t you?” At the calm amusement evident in his tone, your heart rate began to slow down. He didn’t think you were crazy.

You let out a breathy laugh. Wow, I wonder how those stains got on the ceiling? Lava monster perhaps? Are those even a thing? Probably.

“Yeah… well, someone has to Jackson.” You glance towards him, he’s sitting at the small, poor excuse of a dining table. Heart rate picking up again as he gives you a small smile, already having his eyes on you this entire time.

“If I don’t, who will?” you continue.

“Touché. In that case, I’ll do the blessing from now on; you deserve a break.” Shooting you a wink. Instantly feeling flustered at his action, you fight the urge to cover your face with your hands.

Oh, Percy, if only you knew you’ve already been blessing me for the past six years.

“Even say…. If we’re in a battle?” you muse.

He gets up from the table and walks towards you. Once he reaches your side of the queen bed, he kneels, grabbing the hand closest to him, while putting his other on top of his heart. “Oh, y/n l/n, even with my dying breath.”

With that, you burst into a fit of laughter. This boy and his sarcasm.

You play along. “Hmmm what a great tale that will be. The one and only, Perseus Jackson, spending his final breath on sweet old y/n l/n. How dare you burden me with such a legacy to live up to! They’ll think I’m your lover, you know. Demigods all around the world will come searching for me, just to gawk at the beauty that stole your heart.”

At this point, Percy has fallen from his kneeling position, completely lying on the ground, overcome with laughter.

“This isn’t funny, Percy! How am I supposed to live with the guilt of knowing I don’t live up to their expectations?! I’m hardly a warrior either, oh the disappointment.”

Gasping for breath, he manages to find his words, “Don’t stress it y/n, you’re plenty beautiful. I just know they’ll all be stunned by your beauty. Don’t sell yourself short… trust me, once they see you, they’ll be envious that my lover was so enraptured by me that you’ll never be able to love again.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. Would that be so bad?

Gasping for breath, eventually, both of your laughs die down, leaving you both breathing heavily. “C’mon Percy, let’s get some sleep. Its going to be a long week of scouting for demigods if we’re tired.”

As Percy nods, silently getting up to go to the bathroom to change, but he can’t help but think to himself that he wouldn’t mind if he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with you. No matter how long.

It had been three days since you and Percy arrived in the town you continuously fail to remember the name of. It wasn’t the only thing you were failing at doing either, because it seemed that for some unknown reason, the school that was supposed to arrive here for their camping trip still hadn’t shown up.

“We should send an Iris message to camp. It doesn’t look like they’re showing up any time soon, and by the looks of things, we’re going to need to have them send someone for more supplies.”

Percy sighed, looking out the window. Was this the opportunity he was looking for? Maybe… he knew he’d be a stupid fool to pass it up. Swept up in his new thoughts, he never replied. “Percy?”

Without even looking at you, he nodded, turning to go to the bathroom, “Yeah sure, I’ll go into the bathroom and make the call.”

Humming in acknowledgement as he left the room, you couldn’t help but stare at the spot he was previously standing in from your position on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t look too good.

For such a great hero, you wondered if this quest was doing him any good. After the first day of scouting the campsite, it was obvious he was already antsy to get home. It seemed no matter how light you tried to keep the atmosphere; it was like something was weighing on his mind. Mostly when you were both in the motel room together, you supposed it was because he barely went on quests nowadays. Understandably so, after all, who could blame him for wanting a break and spend time with his family? This made you feel immensely guilty since you could never give him words of truly understanding what he’s gone through. You’d arrived at camp a few days before him, yet over the years you were never sent onto a major quest. It upset you greatly at first, but you grew to appreciate your time at camp.

Before your mind could delve further into its guilt and self-pity, Percy re-entered the room, sitting next to you with a huff. “It’s all good. They’re going to send Leo with some extra supplies, and he’ll help us for the rest of this quest.”

Accidentally getting swept up in how pretty his eyes were, you tensed up, realising he was staring at you expectantly. Quickly nodding and clearing your throat you looked down to your lap, “ahh, okay that sounds good. I guess we’ll have time to sightsee or something…”

Sightsee? Really y/n? There’s nothing in this stupid town!

An awkward silence filled the room. Due to your previous thoughts, you were unsure how to proceed. This was the first time you were alone with him and had nothing else better to do.

Percy on the other hand, found that the obvious swooning look in your eyes was his green light. “Uhhh actually y/n?”

Oh, please don’t ask me why I basically just drooled all over you for NO FUCKING REASON. Snapping your head back up to look at him, you desperately tried to ignore the pounding in your chest that managed to find its way into your ears, “yeah?”

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

Holy shit he knows, doesn’t he? He knows I’ve liked him this entire time, and he’s going to reject me even though I never even said anything!

“I uhm… look I know we’re kind of on a small quest and all but technically we ARE waiting for Leo and the school to arrive before we continue… and you know we kind of have like at least a day or two until then so I was just wondering…”

“Yeah, Percy? You can just say it, you know; I really don’t mind.” I do mind, but please get this over with before I cry. With your heart rate increasing at an alarming rate and face heating up so much, you wanted Zeus to blast you right then and there.

Percy felt like he was about to puke, he’d never felt this nervous before. Yeah, he had his moments growing up with Annabeth, after all, she was his first girlfriend, but this was different. He wanted this to be different. Sure, he never regretted their relationship, and yes, he knew he’d always remember everything they went through- what he went through but… he wanted a clean slate. He desperately just wanted nothing more than to know that there was at least one person in his life that wasn’t constantly fighting for their lives—someone who didn’t have to live with as much trauma as him.

“W- would you maybe... Gods, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe at the diner further into the town?”

HOLY FUCK.

He was interested and honestly, you were over the moon. Breathing out the breath you were holding in, you fail to hide the smile on your face, “yeah, I’d like that.”

His face instantly broke out into a wide smile matching yours. “Wait really?”

Unable to hold back a small giggle, you nodded, “yeah, Percy.”

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admire the blue dress you found in a charity shop this morning while Percy was sleeping. I can’t believe this is happening.

If you had old even more awkward 15-year-old y/n that you were about to go on a date with the boy you admired from your table during meals (when he was there), you would’ve laughed. Mainly because at that point, he didn’t even know you existed, only having your first conversation during the battle of Manhattan when you were helping Will.

Okay… lets do this.

Walking out of the bathroom, Percy is already sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt, jeans and converse waiting for you.

“Woah… You look uh-” Never finishing his statement, worry bubbled in your chest.

“Oh, uhm… I- I can change if you’d like?

Jumping up from his place on the bed, his head shook quickly. “NO! N-no don’t do that.”

“Ah uhm… okay? Sorry, it’s just I saw it in a store earlier and uhm… it looked nice, and I just thought that maybe it’d be cool to maybe put in a bit more effort? I mean… not that you don’t look good or anything! I love what you wear, you always look nice! but I don’t know… I don’t get to look nice much and… I just wanted it to be kinda special since we don’t get to… well our lives don’t really grant us these opportunities very often. Or at least for me anyway…”

“Hey, no, it’s okay! I totally get it… you look beautiful.” After hearing your small confession and thought to prepare for your date, his heart felt like it was melting. How could someone be so thoughtful when all he was doing was taking you to a rundown diner who probably only served mediocre burgers?

A small wave of guilt washed through him. Feeling like he would never be able to truly sweep you off your feet or give you that sweet, tooth-rotting love and affection, every day, just like you deserved. After everything, he knew he could try his best but even then, he’d never be able to hide the anxiety or PTSD he had acquired over the years.

You looked up to him with a smirk. “Glad to hear it, lover.”

Cheeks heating up at your comment, he laughed trying to play it off as cool as possible. Taking a step closer to you and flattening his shirt as if it would wipe away its wrinkles, he held out his arm. “Shall we, lover?”

Matching his level of fake sophistication, you linked your arm with his, “with pleasure.”

And with that, you both walked out of the motel, with hopeful spirits. To any onlooker, you both looked like normal young adults.  

“Where the fuck are you?!” Percy’s voice boomed from his end of the phone, supposedly made without any monster risks.  

You winced, slowly and cautiously walking your way out of the forest. The once clean dress was now covered in dirt and had few tears. It went perfectly with your dishevelled, twig and leaf infested hair.

“Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.”

“Y/n.”

Okay, he was concerned, and you couldn’t blame him. After all, how did you expect him to react after getting separated from you as you were chased into the woods by an Empousai after dinner?

Romance at its finest.  

“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up, but I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as you replayed the events that just occurred in your head. The date was amazing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was still sweet. Which led you both to go on one of those cliché night walks. That was nice too, until two Empousai came out of the forest and decided to attack you both.

Percy being…. Well Percy, he swiftly got out riptide and didn’t hesitate to defend the two of you. You, on the other hand, were completely caught off guard only just noticing as one of them turned their focus on you while Percy was distracted.

And what did you do like the perfectly trained demigod you were?

You ran like a headless chicken into the forest.

After a few minutes of running, they tackled you into the ground. Trying and failing failed to shove them off, you suddenly remembered the dagger you strapped to your thigh under your dress and stabbed them.

Clearly not your proudest moments.

Finally making it back to the room, you unlocked the door and let out a huff of relief. “Well… that date didn’t go as expected.”

Percy, took in your current state staring at you with wide eyes… but he didn’t say anything. Is he angry at me? Fuck now he’s going to call off whatever this is, all because I’m an incompetent idiot! I knew I should have tried harder in the sparring activities at camp.

Feeling highly intimidated under his intense stare, you began to play with the hem of your dress, voice going quiet. “Look I uh- I know it probably wasn’t the date you were hoping for but I uhm-“

Before you could even finish your poor excuses, your words are soon lost entirely. Percy stalked towards you with a determined look on his face. Reaching you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your face, smashing his lips onto yours.

You let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise as your eyebrows shot up into Olympus. Yet unlike your fighting skills, this was something you managed to adapt to at a faster pace.

Eyes fluttering closed, you fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.

Please don’t let this be a dream.

Because Gods forbid if this your one chance, you weren’t letting this moment end that easily.  

Moving your lips against his, the urgency he came onto you with slowly began to dissipate, feeling his soft, but slightly chapped lips move against yours. Deepening the kiss, you let go of his shirt, gliding your hands up his tense torso and along his strong arms, eventually placing your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your face. Applying a small amount of pressure to the inside of his wrists with your thumbs, his mind began to drift into a calming haze as you softly stroked them. It was almost as if you were able to brush away the worry that bubbled in him when he got back to the room, only to find you weren’t there. Yet here you were… safe.

It was intoxicating and calming having him so close to you, his entire being overcoming your senses to a point where you fought the urge to let out a small whimper when he pulled away.

Resting his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling heavily flushed against you; he continued to hold you in his warm embrace. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He whispers, breath fanning against your face.

Because as much as Percy was afraid he’d let you down, he knew no matter what you were worth every single risk.

“…but I’m going to have to teach you a few things when we get back to camp. We can’t have my lover running away in battle all the time, how will I know if you sneeze?”

Letting out a snort, you playfully hit his chest. “Anything for you, lover.”

A soft smile graces his face as he looks at you adoringly as the word takes on a whole new meaning… because you were right. He’d do anything.

A/N: whelp! i hope you all liked it :)) its not perfect but oh well? 

also i dont have a percy jackson taglist but i gotta tag the holy grail of fic writers for this fandon eep @cabinofimagines​   🙈 🙈

Divider credit: @biskit-rising​

Opinions on Molly Weasley????

You know, I actually don’t think I’m too far out in left field for her. Well, I might be strange in that we tend to see very polarized opinions on Molly: either she’s the greatest mother who ever mothered and the Weasleys are a perfect family or she’s an overbearing manipulative matriarch who’s secretly poisoning Harry with love potions into marrying her daughter.

Sort of like Ron, I wouldn’t say Molly’s a saint, but she’s also not one of the truly nasty characters (she’s not eating babies or feeding Harry love potions or anything). That said, she is far from the warm, generous, matriarch JKR presented her as.

First, she is overbearing . There’s nothing wrong with this, it’s just how her and Arthur’s dynamic works, but at the same time if Arthur ever did have a spine it’s been completely conditioned out of him. It’s also very telling that Ron marries the overbearing equivalent of his mother in Hermione Granger. I suspect Ron’s spine has also completely disappeared by the time we hit that delightful epilogue from canon. 

As for the Weasleys, JKR sets them up to be the perfect family we can possibly (realistically) imagine. It’s huge, they all love each other and are fiercely loyal (except for Percy, the swine, we’ll get into this), they give Harry a sweater, it’s the family he wants so desperately that he marries the only available and socially acceptable option: Ginny (I could go on a rant about this for days, but guys, Harry shows way more interest in men than in women and I think 90% or Ginny’s attraction to him is that she’s a Weasley). 

That said the Weasleys, and Molly herself, have major issues. 

One, the money. I think JKR makes them poor to give contrast to the Malfoys. The Weasleys are nobly impoverished, they’re a wizarding family but understand more important things than money. The snobby Malfoys on the other hand have peacocks in their yard because rich people are inherently evil.  

That said, most of this is because Arthur and Molly completely mismanage finances. There’s nothing wrong with having seven children, but the Weasleys clearly cannot afford to have seven children. More, we see them spend money instantly when they have it. Ron is left without a wand for a year but the second Arthur wins the lottery, rather than save the money, WE’RE GOING TO EGYPT. Even the year before, money that might have gone towards emergency situations such as: my son’s wand broke is used to take Molly, Arthur, and Ginny to Egypt. They buy tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. The Weasleys don’t have that kind of money and then they go and are extremely bitter that Lucius Malfoy does have that kind of money. Yes, I’m sure the Malfoys were always wealthier than the Weasleys, but at the same time the Weasleys are the type to buy iphones for their kids when they’re on food stamps.

I’m getting a little distracted though, back to Molly.

I’d say Molly is far more traditional than JKR ever intended for her to be. She’s progressive enough that she supports muggleborns (they should get to go to Hogwarts and be very appreciative) but she also doesn’t think they should get too far ahead of themselves (we’ll get into this). She’s a raging misogynist (we’ll get into this). She is extremely judgmental and can flip on you at the drop of a hat with the barest of evidence. She never really does anything about Harry’s situation despite having very good evidence of its realities. And despite her family’s extreme poverty, even when all the kids are in boarding school, we don’t see her try to take up a job or even take up some etsy equivalent where she can enchant shit and sell it. There’s nothing wrong with staying home to raise the kids, but at the same time, I think for Molly it’s because “this is what the wife does”. 

Right, well, that actually was a lot.

Let’s start with Harry. Molly is witness to seven years of Harry’s childhood abuse and seems to take no action regarding it. Now, Fred and George are dubious sources, so them telling Molly that “hey Harry’s house had bars on his window” might not be taken seriously. Harry also is generally very private and embarrassed about his home life. That said, there are many many signs, and while Hermione practically lives at the Burrow ever since third or fourth year Harry has to spend every single summer with the Dursleys even before Voldemort’s return.

Granted, I have gone over that I don’t think child protection or even a good understanding of abuse exists in the Wizarding World. I think to wizards you’re stuck with the family you’ve got, and if your pureblood grandfather is raping you then it sucks to be you. That said, the Weasleys are such a central part of Harry’s life that I would expected them to do *something*. Instead it’s like Harry’s situation is... vaguely acknowledged but mostly ignored. 

Now, the Weasleys don’t have the money for an eighth kid (though Harry’s so absurdly wealthy he could help lighten the load were he to live with them) so I don’t hold this too much against them but... I would hope that a truly good family would have noticed Harry’s situation and tried to do something about it.

Right, the judgement part. The Weasley family’s unofficial disowning of Percy was horrible. This is going to be controversial, but Percy actually made some excellent points. Dumbledore and Harry’s story about Voldemort’s resurrection does sound nuts, the guy’s been dead ten years, he isn’t Jesus. More, it comes from Harry Potter who is young, traumatized, and has generally been erratic throughout the time Percy’s known him. And parts of what he says aren’t wrong. Why do the Weasley’s worship Dumbledore and listen to everything this man says? Dumbledore does do things like recruit child soldiers from the boarding school he runs. Dumbledore’s a shady guy. 

Mostly though, while Percy not believing Harry and Dumbledore is bad, I always got the feeling that a lot of the resentment and disowning was that Percy dared to do better than his father. Percy rises through the ranks quickly in the ministry, he’s extremely competent, where his father has been stuck in the same dead end joke of a job for years. Arthur even accuses Percy of having his position because Fudge is spying on Arthur. Which... no, Arthur, no. And the family just loathes him for it. They loathe him and it’s terrible. 

And I’m sure Dumbledore meanwhile is just dying that they’ve forced Percy out when Percy was in the perfect position to be a spy in the Ministry. I can just picture him drinking with Snape after Molly’s told him, tears in her eyes, that Percy is cut off because he betrayed the family, wondering what kind of morons are in the Order. 

Beyond Percy there’s what Molly does to Hermione in 4th year. And good god, this is also where the misogyny comes in. Rita Skeeter writes that Hermione, a fourteen-year-old girl, is a harlot and Molly not only a) believes it but b) becomes extremely judgmental of Hermione and essentially calls her a jezebel to her face. Molly, what the hell? Hermione’s life has been ruined by the tabloids for something that didn’t happen, and even if it did is nothing she should be slandered for, and Molly’s going “THAT WHORE”.

This is after Skeeter had slandered Arthur just that summer over the Quidditch World Cup incident and Molly hadn’t believed any of it for a second. So, either Hermione’s being a girl or her being an uppity muggleborn or both somehow makes this believable...

Molly’s very similar with Fleur. She doesn’t approve and I always got the feeling it was in part because Fleur is not the traditional sort of woman she’d want Bill to marry (Fleur is a working woman at Gringotts and more is elegant refined beauty rather than a girl next door who’d make a great housewife) but also because Fleur’s foreign. Bill should marry a nice, English, woman and instead he ends up with this French quarter-veela. 

Had Harry done anything to offend Molly, or even if Dumbledore had simply gone “You know what, Harry’s awful, we hate him”, then I would expect he too would have been completely cut off and thrown back into the gutter where he belongs.

So, Molly sucks and is not nearly as progressive as JKR intended, but is she feeding Harry love potions to marry Ginny and make the family wealthy? No.

for the prompts thing, 6 for percabeth during like after BotL but before TLO?? thank you so much and and you’re an absolutely amazing writer!!

you're in love with her  | percabeth

“Percy? Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?"

He isn't.

In theory, Annabeth is helping him with his bow and arrow technique. He’d always sucked at it, but the children of Apollo really had no patience to teach him anymore. He didn’t blame them. The last time, he’d almost made an incidental sidecut on Will Solace’s hair.

So, Chiron had asked Annabeth to help him. It made sense, since she wasn’t very good in it either. She was only good enough not to die if that was the only weapon she had, and that is what she’s trying to teach him.

Trying, and not actually teaching, because in truth Percy isn’t listening to a single word that comes out of her mouth. It isn’t his fault. The sun is starting to go down on the horizon, and the light makes her hair glow and her eyes brighten in a constant mix of silver, golden and bronze. She’d also forgotten to bring water, and her lips are slightly dry, which makes her lick them, unconsciously, every now and then. Percy wishes “every now and then” meant “rarely”, but, for that, it means “all the time”. And, of course, every time she does it he loses any trail of thought that might be starting to form in his brain.

So yeah, between her hair, her eyes, and her annoyingly distracting habit of licking her lips, there isn’t much space in his head for him to listen to her archery tips.

“Sorry,” he finally says, facing the ground. She has her arm extended, as if offering him the bow she has in hands. Like she’s telling him to take it so she can show him something. It's the first time in almost half an hour that Percy is able to make himself turn his gaze away from her face. Mostly because she’s clearly mad, and he doesn't want to see it.

She huffs. “Really, Percy?”

Uh-oh. This isn’t a good sign. If she was just slightly annoyed, she would call him Seaweed Brain. But she didn’t use the nickname when she was truly and terrifyingly mad. He keeps staring at the ground.

“That's just… You’re just so.. Ugh!”

Yeah, that’s bad. He tries looking at her, but only slightly.

“You come here, and we make all the arrangements to optimize your time here, only because, first of all, you choose to stay here the least you can… Even though you know you’ll be 16 in less then two months, and you know what that means, and you know Kronos is out there gathering an army… And you know he’ll probably kill you-” 

She stops herself for a second, blinking to try to clear the tears that threaten falling from her eyes. He freezes. She’s crying, and even though he’s seen her cry before (not that he knows how to handle it), it breaks his heart, because he knows that it’s his fault, even if he has no idea of why and how.

“And still,” she continues, voice raising. “You don’t even have the DECENCY to pay attention to what I’m saying?”

She clenches her jaw and sustains her look, chin slightly raised and eyes, still shiny with tears, pointed directly at him. He faces the ground besides her, and she waits for him to say something.

“I'm sorry, okay?” He finally looks at her face, and his voice weakens when he sees it so… hurt. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just… Zoned out for a bit. I know this is important and I appreciate you taking your time to help me, as well as everyone else. But I’m tired, and there’s too much going on and- And you’re distracting.”

He blushes furiously at the end of his sentence, but her cheeks also turn red as her expression softens slightly. At last, she nods. “Well, you can have archery lessons with someone else, then. Let’s find Beckendorf.”

“Annabeth, that’s not-“

“Percy. Forget it,” she stares at him and her eyes are like storm again, all the magical glittering from before vanished. “Please.” 

She’s hurt, and he knows it, the same way he knows she’ll never admit it. And it hurts him too, specially because he doesn’t understand it completely and doesn’t know how to help. Lately, it seems like all he does makes it worse somehow.

She starts walking towards the stables without saying anything else, and he has no choice but to go after her. They walk in silence the whole way there, and Percy’s sure that facing Medusa wide eyed would’ve hurt less.

When they finally get there, they find Beckendorf brushing one of the pegasi with a slight smile on his face. Percy doesn’t need to ask to know Silena’s been around recently.

“Hey man,” Percy greets his friend, but before he can say anything else, Annabeth interrupts him.

“Hey, Beckendorf,” she says, assertively but still politely. “Everyting alright?”

The son of Hephaestus puts the brush he has on his hands down and walks towards them, smiling.

“Hi, guys! What's up?”

Annabeth answers so quickly that Percy doesn’t even have enough time to process it. “I was wondering, do you think you can give Percy his archery lessons from now on?”

“Annabeth, don’t-“ Percy tries to contest, but she stares at him so fiercely that he almost feels like being a guinea pig again.

Beckendorf frowns. “Have you two been fighting?” They keep quiet, facing the ground. “Okay, I get it. It’s fine, Annabeth, I can… do the archery thing with Percy.”

“Thank you so much.”

At first, Percy thinks she’s just being mean. But the way she looks at their friend, biting her lip and straightening her eyes slightly, is truthfully relieved and thankful. His heart sinks even lower than he though possible.

“We'll talk later,” she says and turns away before Percy can think of something that’s worth saying to her.

So he just stays there and watches her leave for what seems like forever, until Beckendorf cuts though the silence, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You're in love with her,” he says, before turning around to finish organizing the stables.

“What? I-Uh… Um?”

Now that’s a sentence to be proud of, Percy.

Beckendorf snickers and puts the last things to its places before turning back to Percy and leading him to the doors. Reluctantly, Percy walks besides him, startled.

“Percy, it’s not a secret that you two like each other, not even for yourself, I think.”

Percy considers. He’d never put it in words, but deep down, he knows it's true. He nods slightly and looks down at the grass they’ve just stepped on.

“Okay then. But you’re in love with her,” Beckendorf repeats, and Percy fights the urge to choke. He doesn’t know why people call the feeling having butterflies in your stomach because, really, he mostly feels like throwing up.

He finally manages to speak. “Why do you say that?”

His friend only laughs and faces the horizon. “I have my reasons. But let’s say… The way you looked at her as she left. Like she was punching you instead.”

“I think I would feel better if she punched me. At least I’d know what to expect.”

Beckendorf laughs loudly for a few moments, before they fall in a comfortable silence.

“What did you fight about anyway?”

“She was trying to teach me and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“What- Why?” 

Percy can feel his cheeks turn red and he groans uncomfortably, considering what to say. “I, um… The sunlight on her hair, and her eyes were glittering and her lips-“

The son of Hephaestus stops suddenly in front of him, facing him, open-mouthed, amused for a while.

Percy didn’t think it was possible, but he blushes even harder and puts his hands on his pockets, shrugging slightly.

Finally, Beckendorf smirks and shakes his head, knowingly. “Ohh, man,” he pats Percy’s shoulder slightly. “You’re so in love with her…”

With that, he turns around and starts walking away. 

“Wait!” Percy shouts almost too late. “What do I do with that?” 

His so-called friend shrugs and throws his arms in the air. “Take her to the fireworks!”

Oh. Yeah, the 4th of July.

Percy can’t help but thinking the fireworks do seem better than archery lessons.

🎨 Paint Your Sorrows.

(An Edmike Angst)

A/N: hello everyone!! sugar here :) this is my first time posting on tumblr so i have no clue what im doing honestly sjsjsjjs,,, i wanted to post this angst fic of edmike i wrote a while back so i hope u enjoy!! 💗 i would also like to mention that in i headcanon chloe (perfumer) and edgar were childhood best friends but have lost contacted ever since chloe’s (vera) death. so edgar doesn’t know chloe is secretly vera in disguise but chloe does recognise edgar :’) i apologise in advance if i caused any confusion or if i wrote the character’s personalities wrong!! thank you <3

cw: blood, description of dead bodies, lots and lots of crying,,,

3rd person POV

How did everything happen so quickly?

Days ago, he was just fine. Scoffing at others and painting like usual. He had his annoyed charm that Mike adored to tease. And his heart fluttered even more when he caught him softly smiling.

It was no surprise that the acrobat had a growing crush on the painter. The entire manor knew about it and maybe, just maybe, Edgar knew about it too himself. But that doesn't matter any more.

Mike walked through the halls of the manor with a bouquet of white lilies in hand. Emma was kind enough to help him pick out some flowers and patched them up to look presentable. He also brought a brown teddy bear that he begged the new survivor to make. What was their name again...? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember why he was holding all of these.

Why was he wearing a black suit and not his usual costume...?

Mike automatically stopped walking when he reached a certain someone's door. The door was bombarded by flowers and candles. And in the center of it all, was Edgar Valden's picture in black and white.

It all happened just 3 days ago in a match. The match consisted of Fiona, Tracy, Edgar and Mike himself. The hunter Percy was quite new to the manor as he had just arrived a few months ago though Mike had some matches with him so he was somewhat familiar with him. The map was Moonlit River Park, one of Mike’s favourite maps as it brought back oh so many wonderful memories. The sound of glass cracking was heard and the match had begun.

Mike was swapped at a cipher near the roller coaster stand. He ran over to it and began clicking away at the cipher. Halfway through the cipher, Edgar’s panicked voice was heard. “The hunter is near me!” Instantly a whooshing sound came by, Tracy must have summoned her bot which most survivors call George. The bot soon arrived at the cipher Mike was currently deciphering and began to turn the gears of the cipher machine. Ignoring the constant sound of whooshing from the mechanic, Mike enthusiastically yelled, “Come on keep it up!” while clicking away on the cipher machine.

A notification appeared the moment Mike popped the cipher.

“Edgar Valden has been containing the hunter for 60 seconds.”

Mike happily grinned at the notification. Edgar had always been one of the best containers in the manor ever since his arrival despite being one of the newbies alongside Ganji and Annie. He’s even been compared to the top containers such as Norton and even rescuers like Naib. Though, Edgar always simply shrugged at the compliments he received and ignored the person. Plus, Edgar wasn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to. He wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. Every word that came out of his mouth were straightforward and bold. Some said it felt like pure poison. When confronted about his words, the painter just rolled his eyes and stated he only spoke his mind. Even survivors like Emma or Demi who could honestly get along with everyone agreed that he was a tough cookie to crack. Thus, people gave up on pursuing the painter and just casted him aside.

And that’s where Mike’s fun began. He decided to provoke the painter to finally see him crack. He tried everything to crack the painter. Teasing, flirting, pranking. You name it. And eventually butterflies began to grow in his stomach whenever he saw Edgar. His heart races and his face becomes red hot. Mike tried to talk to Demi about it over a drink at the bar and all she did was laugh and smile. “Oh sugar, you got a whole storm comin.” He remembered her words when he first opened up about it. But now, Mike Morton can 100% confirm with no doubts, he’s in love with Edgar Valden.

‘Whack!’ Mike hissed in pain. He turned in head towards the direction he was whacked and found a fuming Tracy Reznik behind him. “Hey what gives Tracy?'' The acrobat groaned at the mechanic who had her arms crossed. “What gives is that you haven’t been decoding for so long that crows have you circling over you!'' Tracy pointed above Mike’s head and he did in fact have crows circling over his head. “While you were busy in dreamland, Me and Fiona were already on the last few ciphers! You’re lucky Edgar has been kitting the entire match or the hunter would have snatched you while you were busy daydreaming.''

Mike playfully raised up his hands in defence. “Cmon Tracy! Cut me some slack! Y'know I ain’t the best decoder around. Plus with your cipher rush you can just pretend I ain’t even here!” The mechanic sighed at his words and rubbed her temples. She signalled her head over to a cipher near the carousel. “Fiona is over there, go help her decode the last cipher. I’ll be over at the exit gate.” The acrobat made an ok gesture and left for the cipher.

——————————————————

“Edgar Valden has been containing the hunter for 120 seconds.”

Was what the notification said when Mike arrived at the cipher Fiona was deciphering. The priestess noticed him and warmly smiled. “Greetings Mike.” Fiona said with her silky smooth voice. The acrobat enthusiasticly waved at her in response and went beside her. He started turning the gears that were on the cipher. “Thank our lord and saviour Hastur that Mr Valden has been kitting that long! Or else all of us would be dinner for the hunter tonight!'' Fiona beamed brightly. Despite plastering a fake smile on his face, Mike was mentally rolling his eyes. Fiona was a lovely lady and all but her obsession with the hunter ‘The Feaster’ but most call him Hastur. She believed that Hastur was the reason we’re all still alive and kicking and not know... dead.

Trying his best to grin through Fiona’s constant chatter about Mr Tentacles, he nearly forgot the cipher was nearly done. He pulled back Fiona just in case she didn’t notice and yelled “Cipher Machine Primed!” so the others could hear. Immediately, Edgar’s voice came rushing through. “Focus on Decoding!” And that was the sign to pop it. The acrobat clicked the cipher one last time and it glowed bright orange as a loud siren was heard. “Head over to the exit gate and check on Tracy! I’ll go make sure if Edgar’s ok.” Mike told Fiona and she nodded in reply and dashed for the exit gate.

Edgar was near the tent still kitting Percy, who surprisingly didn’t have detention when Mike found him. He was skilfully throwing down pallets and wasting Percy’s time. Mike’s heart skipped a beat when he and the painter made eye contact. But instead of a loving or friendly look, he gave the blond a cold hard glare. “What in the world are you doing here Motron?? Here to throw some of your immature and pathetic comments about my eyes again?” Edgar scoffed as he threw down more pallets. ‘Ouch. That hit right in the heart.’ Mike mentally frowned. He quickly brushed it off and smugly leaned back. “Nah nah. Just here watching you awesomely destroy the hunter with those amazing reflexes of yours sweet cheeks.” Mike flirtatiously winked. Edgar’s face went from pale to a slight red colour at the acrobat’s tease.

“Silent at once you imbecile! Just go to the damn exit gate!” Edgar shouted, clearly annoyed as he tried to compose himself. Mike giggled at his flustered behaviour. “And miss a chance to see the amazing Edgar Valden kite? No way.” The acrobat jokingly exaggerated. The painter tsked and began to ignore Mike’s immature comments. Percy who was watching the scene unfold and still being kitted by Edgar let out a grumble. Mike noticed and turned his attention to the hunter. “Ooo, how does it feel getting kitted by the best kitter in the manor hmm?” Mike sneered with his classic grin. “You don’t even Detention. Sucks to be you huh?” Mike shrugged his shoulders in a bored manner. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Percy twitch. Despite that, he continued with one last final remark as the final bullet with a sly grin. “You must be a pretty bad hunter to get kitted the entire match and not even get a single hit.”

‘Whack!’

The sound of a heavy metal hit filled the three’s ears. Mike looked towards the direction where the sound came from and saw Edgar with his icy blue eyes and mouth wide open with crimson red blood beginning to drool down his forehead. Edgar stood completely still for a split second, trying to process what happened to him. He let out a shaky groan then crashed down onto the cold hard floor with his eyes shut tight. “Edgar!” Mike screamed out with panic and instantly dashed over to the painter who was almost lifelessly lying on the floor.

“Edgar..? Edgar...! Can you hear me?!” Mike violently shook Edgar, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes. No response. Mike frantically checked his body for signs for a pulse or a heartbeat, just any sign this was all a cruel mean prank but no luck. “No....” Mike barely let out a whisper backing away from the brunette’s cold body, a single tear dropped onto Edgar’s chest. “No.” He said it again but with more strength to his voice, more droplets of tears soaked Edgar’s coat. “NO! NO! NO!” Mike loudly wailed as he aggressively yanked onto his golden locks, a pool of tears dripped onto the painter’s pale face.

For a split second, Mike swore he saw Edgar’s face twitch with his own eyes. Mike frantically shook the painter with begging weeps. “Edgar! Please wake up...” No response yet again. The acrobat weakly laughed. What was he expecting? Edgar to magically wake up and laugh out it’s a prank? He’s as good as a dead corpse. Mike thought that all hope was lost until he heard a weak familiar winch. The blond turned his direction towards the sound and saw Edgar who barely had his icy eyes open and his chapped lips slightly parted. ‘It can’t be... Did a miracle actually happen...?’ Mike furiously shook his head when he saw the painter’s weak state. Tears began to fall from his eyes again.

“Edgar....?” Mike barely let out a whisper, his voice shattered from screaming. Edgar’s blue orbs stared weakly at Mike, like they were gonna shut anytime soon. “Morton... I....” Edgar strained his back and started to violently gasp for air. Mike instantly stood up, ignoring the pain from his body. “I’ll go get Tracy and Fiona! You stay here!” When the acrobat turned around, he felt a weak but desperate tug at his sleeve. “No!” He heard Edgar say with all the strength he had left. “Please don’t leave me...” He barely muttered out. The painter was trying his best to lean up but he winched back down in pain. Seeing the painter struggle, Mike rushed over to Edgar and held him tight. Despite Mike’s support, Edgar’s back fell hard onto the floor and caused even more damage to his head. Edgar bit his lip in pain, even during his dying moments, he couldn’t forget about his ego. Mike desperately tried to keep Edgar’s eyes open but deep down he knew, time is running out. Mike slapped himself on the face as he knew that tears will once again rain from his face. Edgar stayed silent as he tried his best to ignore the burning pain in his skull. But eventually all good things must come to an end.

Edgar let out a loud cough alerting Mike’s attention. “Now now, Morton... Blue isn’t a s-suitable colour on you...'' His raspy voice hit Mike’s heart even harder. The acrobat sniffled as he looked at the painter’s weak state. “E-Edgar.... I’m sorry. It’s all my fault that this is happening.” Edgar’s eyes were close to shutting tight. He knew what he had to say. “Morton... Please don’t blame yourself for this... You-“ The brunette was cut off by more violent coughing escaping his mouth. “You were tolerable unlike the rest of this fake world. So...” A drop of a tear left Edgar’s blue eyes. He shakily held Mike’s blood stained hand. “Thank you for letting me feel what love is.” Edgar’s breathing came to a halt. His chest stopped rising and lowering. And his cold blue eyes that Mike adored so much finally shut tight for good. The next thing he knew Mike was screaming on the top of his lungs like there was no tomorrow.

“Morton!”

‘Huh...?’

“Mike Morton! Are you there?”

‘Who’s calling my name...?’

‘Snap!’

Mike’s head turned towards the snap sound and saw the perfumer with her classic brown hair tied up in a bun, wearing a puffy sleeve black dress with her fingers doing a snap pose right in his face. Her waist was bent downwards for her head to match Mike’s head level. Noticing that she had caught Mike’s attention, she stood up straight and composed herself. She cleared her throat and awkwardly looked towards the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the perfumer holding a bouquet of flowers. Giving out a weak grin towards the female, he gestured towards the spot next to him. Hesitation was in the brunette’s eyes but she came around and sat down next to Mike. The acrobat’s blue eyes were focused on Edgar’s black and white portrait. He took a quick glance at the perfumer and saw her also looking longingly at the picture. “I miss him too, Chloe.”

Chloe’s black eyes widened at the use of her real name. She was so used to getting called her twin sister’s name, Vera ever since she took her life. She remembered that day so well. Every night, she would stay awake thinking about the murder. If only, she wouldn’t have been such a snake, maybe Vera would still be here. When she had heard of Edgar’s passing, she broke down and told the manor participants everything. Her true identity, her relationship with Edgar and how awful she felt about her beloved twin sister.

Most survivors felt utter disgust towards the perfumer. “You killed your own twin sister out of greed and jealousy and even stole her identity? I can’t believe you tricked us all.” She remembered the lawyer’s cold words when she was on the manor’s floor weeping over the reveal. But what made it worse was his final words to her before leaving. “You are a monster from the deep darks of hell Nair.” Very few showed sympathy. “It must have been an accident Chloe... Please don’t be so hard on yourself. What’s done is done. No matter how hard you would like to take it back.” Emily had gently spoken to her after her reveal in the infirmary. The usually composed doctor had a shaky tone in her voice during the last few words. In the past few days, she’s been greeted by disgusted and feared glances.

Some people who she had considered her closeted mates turned a blind eye towards her. Only a few survivors left in the manor gave her pitiful looks but still remained their distance. All the attention and admiration from others that she built up for years had vanished away. Edgar’s death left a bigger impact on the perfumer. He was the only person who understood her since they were little. He knew that she was envious of her much preferred twin sister and yet stayed with her and listened to her. They built a bond that was unbreakable. Chloe remembered the day Edgar had arrived at the manor. Her black eyes widened with shock. Ever since she left for Oletus Manor, she never thought she would meet him again and yet here he was, standing there with his paint brushes and canvas. Tears flooded down her cheeks as her black mascara ran and formed black messy streaks on her doll like face.

“Edgar...!” She rushed over to him and hugged the painter with all her might. “Oh Edgar!... I never thought I'd see you again...” She weeped tears of joy and held him close. Edgar was taken back at first. It couldn’t be her right...? “V-Vera...? How... I thought you were dead.” Chloe heard the shock and surprise in his voice. What was he saying? She was Chloe, not Vera! Just as she was about to correct herself, she remembered. Vera’s black eyes lifeless on the floor. Her high quality clothes were soaked with blood and face was stained with teardrops. She was now Vera Nair. “Of course am I you knuckle head! Why wouldn’t I be good ol Vera?” Chloe said in a upbeat tone that her twin sister always used. Vera was the more energetic twin between the two after all. And that’s how her lying and manipulating towards her once called best friend started. Oh how much she yearned to cry into his arms, sobbing to him that it was in fact not Vera but Chloe. Chloe stared at Edgar’s picture that was coloured in black and white. “I wonder what he would think of me now if he knew the truth.” She weakly cackled to herself, completely forgetting the acrobat beside her. Her laughing then turned into sobbing. Tears ran down her eyes that were covered with dark eye rings as she tried to hide her face in shame. “I never got to tell him... Out of everyone here, he deserved to know the most.” She choked out and mourned.

Mike stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say. Chloe’s known Edgar since he was little and he had known him just for a few months. The bond between the two was stronger than any bond Mike had. What would Edgar Valden have said to his childhood friend who was lying to him all along? The acrobat took a deep breath in and started to comfort the weeping perfumer. “Look Chloe, I know we will never know what Edgar would have truly said but,” Mike looked at the female beside him, her tears still flooding down her doll face and in her eyes were a glimpse of hope. Using this chance, Mike continued. “He wouldn’t hate you. Out of everyone, he must have understood your pain the most. And you understood him. He loves you Chloe. He couldn’t ever never want to see you again.'' Chloe's cries came to a halt when Mike finished his comfort speech. A small weak smile appeared on the brunette’s chapped lips.

“You really think so?” Seeing Chloe smile brought joy to Mike for some reason. She probably hasn’t smiled as Chloe Nair for a while as he'd assumed. Going back to his normal nature, Mike grinned from side to side. “Of course! He may seem like some grumpy ol grumpy pants but I tell ya! He’s gotta heart of gold toots!'' A snort came out of the perfumer and the little snort turned into a fit of laughter. Mike’s grin grew wider as he joined in on the laughter. The tears that came out of Chloe’s eyes were no longer tears of sorrow or pain but tears of genuine joy. Mike did it. He made Chloe forgive herself. Now she can move on and start a new chapter of her life in the manor. Not as Vera Nair but as Chloe Nair.

The laughter soon died down as the perfumer cleared her throat. She reached for her pocket and took something. Curious, Mike tried to peek over to see what the mysterious object was. Chloe stared at the object with a tender look and soon looked at Mike with determination. “I think you deserve this more than I do.” In her hands was a paintbrush. And with closer inspection, the word ‘passion’ was carved into it with a small red ribbon tied onto it. The blonde fondly looked at the paintbrush but then widened his eyes in realisation. “Is this-'' But before he could finish, Chloe was a step ahead. “Edgar’s. He gave it to me on my birthday when we were 7.” The brunette stared down at the stick-like object with a warm gaze. “But I want you to have it.” She concluded, looking up at Mike. Mike shakily looked at it. A gift from Edgar to Chloe. It feels so wrong to take it from her just like that. A small smile came out of the perfumer. “Now I know what you’re thinking. Trust me, you deserve it more than I do. I knew from the start how you felt about Edgar.'' Mike's shoulder tensed up at the mention of his behaviour towards the painter. Damn, he fell hard. Chloe’s black eyes bore into Mike’s side profile as she stood up. Slightly bending down, she held out the paintbrush to him. “Please. Take it.” She pleaded with the acrobat. Knowing her intentions were pure, Mike craved in and nodded as he received the wooden paintbrush. The two turned their attention back to the black and white picture of Edgar Valden, though no words were spoken, they knew they were sharing the same thoughts and feelings.

—————————————

Entering back into his room after what seems like forever. Mike laid down on his bed, replaying the chat with Chloe. In his hands was the paintbrush of Edgar Valden. Looking around in his bedroom, he found a blank sheet of white paper. Thanks to his love for performance makeup, he decided to use that as paint. He took the ribbon tied paintbrush and dipped it into a brown blush container. Brown for his silky smooth hair. He then decided to add some blue from his face painting tray. For his beautiful icy blue eyes. And finally, red for his coat. For his aura. For his fiery personality. Setting down the paintbrush, he stared at the now complete artwork he had just made. It was messy, however it was from the heart. Mike took one last glance at the ribbon tied paintbrush and softly smiled.

“Might as well paint out my sorrows.”

A/N: there was no brown so yall have to deal with orange 👹/j

Best friend’s brother

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor reader

One shot, 3k word count.

Summary: You have been best friends with Ron, Harry and Hermione ever since your first year in Hogwarts. But lately you’ve been feeling a little different about Ron’s older brother. You, Hermione and Harry have been invited to spend the last week of the school holidays at the Burrow. Could anything possibly happen between you and Fred?

“Oh welcome dear!” Mrs Weasley chirps, rushing out the door to greet you as you heave your heavy luggage out the trunk of the cab. “Leave your luggage dear, I’ll get the twins to bring them in for you.”

“Thank you for having me Mrs Weasley! I can’t wait to finally have your signature pumpkin juice again.” You give her a big hug before pulling away. Mrs Weasley erupts into a fit of giggles. “Oh you’re too kind dear. Come on in, Harry and Hermione arrived over an hour ago and Rons been wondering when you’d arrive.” 

As if on cue, your three best friends burst out of the front door, sprinting in your direction. Before you knew it, you crash down to the ground by the impact, the wind knocked out of you. The four of you burst out laughing, laying on the ground out on the lawn.

“You’re finally here!” Hermione says, before getting up to dust the dirt off her jeans. You follow suit, looking over at the boys still wrestling on the ground. 

“Did you guys miss me?” You tease, playfully kicking Harry’s leg.

Ron was the next to stand up. “I think ‘miss’ is a strong word. We simply wanted you to reach earlier because Hermione wouldn’t stop talking about the latest book she read.” He says with a goofy smile on his face.

Despite all the playful banter, you couldn’t be happier seeing your closest friends again. Your parents are muggles and you didn’t have anyone to talk to about the wizarding world. “Well, you can tell me all about your book Hermione. Its not your fault the boys are uncultured barbarians.” You say, rolling your eyes at Ron.

“Hey!” Harry protested, but only earned himself a playful slap on the shoulder from you. 

Just as the 4 of you were about to head back into the house, you see Mrs Weasley dragging Fred and George out into the lawn by their ears. The twins groan and protest, but fail to struggle out of their mother’s iron-like grip. “The two of you better help y/n with her luggage. After causing all that mess in the kitchen with your pranks, it’s the least you can do!” With that, she throws them out the front door, slamming it shut behind them.

For the first time of the day, your heart does a little backflip the moment your eyes fall on Fred Weasley. He's wearing a maroon sweater and black jeans, his hair in its usual messy state. Nothing has changed since the last time you saw him other than his left ear which was a little redder than the right from where Mrs Weasley pinched it. “Merlins beard that hurt...” He groaned, rubbing his ear. 

Your crush on Ron’s older brother was no secret to your three best friends. Your feelings for him surfaced just over a year ago when you were doing your final exams in the great hall and the twins flew in on their broomsticks, setting off fireworks in the great hall. Ever since that faithful day you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Be it bumping into the twins in the Gryffindor common room, or sitting near them during mealtimes in the great hall, all these small encounters made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey y/n! Great seeing you again.” George greets you with a big smile and the two of you exchange a friendly hug. “Ill grab the small trunk. Fred will handle the heavier one.” He smirks mischievously while his other twin lets out a loud sigh in defeat. You laugh at this, “I’ve missed you George.” You watch as he grabs the smaller trunk and hurries back into the house.

Fred, who is now standing in front of you, clears his throat loudly. “Ahem”

“Well, we’ll be inside waiting for you y/n! See you back inside!” Hermione chirps, steering a very confused Ron and Harry towards the house. You sent her a thank you message mentally. Right now, only you and Fred were left standing on the driveway, out in the cool evening air. 

You subconsciously run your hands through your hair, attempting to comb out any tangles from the earlier tussle with your best friends. “Hey Fred. Its great seeing you again.” You smile up at him.

“Not going to say you miss me too?” he bends forward, bringing his face closer to yours. This makes your breath catch in your throat. You lean backwards a little, feeling nervous and confused all at the same time. But this only makes him lean forward even more. Before you could catch yourself, you feel your weight shift and you lose your balance, falling backwards. In that split second, Fred grabs you around your waist and pulls you forward into him, allowing you to regain your balance. Your face now inches away from his, you freeze completely.

“Breathe y/n. You’re turning blue.” He laughs. Only then do you realize you had been holding your breath for the past few seconds. You quickly took a deep breath, before slapping his arm. “That was completely unnecessary!” Fred flashes an innocent smile, nearly making you hold your breath yet again. 

“What was?” 

“Oh you know exactly what i mean Fred Weasley. You complete arse!”

Fred continues to laugh, the most adorable sound you’ve ever heard. “Alright alright come on, lets get you out of the cold.” He says, swiftly lifting your massive luggage off the ground before leading you towards the house with one hand on the small of your back.

When you step into the house, you’re greeted with the glorious smell of Mrs Weasley’s cooking. She’d already started preparing dinner. You see your three best friends sitting on the couch, Ron and Harry at a game of chess while Hermione had her head buried in a thick book. You could hear the sound of laughter coming from the back yard and you assume George is out there playing with his two older brothers Charlie and Bill. 

“This way y/n. You’ll be sharing a room with Ginny and Hermione.” Fred says as he lugs your trunk up the stairs. 

“Right...” you reply, following him up the stairs.

Fred stops climbing the stairs and turns around to face you. “You sound rather disappointed y/n.”

“No not at all. I just—“ 

“Would you rather stay in my room?”

You stare at him for a few seconds, expecting him to burst out laughing or show any sign that this was a joke. But it never came. “Oh um... well it’s really kind of you offer but—”

“Ah bummer.” He says, before turning around to resume climbing up the stairs. Did Fred Weasley just flirt with you?

You reach the third floor and walk past a few other rooms as Fred leads you to the one at the end of the corridor. In one of it you see Percy hunched over a messy desk, scribbling away on a sheet of parchment. “Hey Percy! How’s work at the ministry—“ before you could finish, Fred pulls you away from the room. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to get him started. We won’t hear the end of it.” He says, drawing circles with his index finger in the air next to his ear. This makes you laugh.

Soon you two reach the last room at the end of the corridor. Fred places your trunk in the corner of the room, right next to Hermione’s. “Well this is where you’ll sleep for the next few nights.” He says, taking a look around the room. “Trust me when i say it’s much cleaner than mine. George always leaves our room messy.”

“So George is the ONLY one messing things up in this house. You’re the obedient one.” You say sarcastically, knowing full well the two of them were always up to no good.

“I am, and always have been.” He winks at you, dropping down onto the mattress on the floor. The one you assumed was going to be your bed for the next one week. “Actually y/n there’s something i need to tell you—“ before he could go on, George pokes his head through the door, smiling mischievously. “Dinner is ready lovebirds!” He immediately disappears, laughing gleefully running back down the stairs.

You looked at Fred, raising an eyebrow as if to ask ‘What was that all about?’ He simply sighs, running his hands through his fiery red hair. “Um... we should probably go downstairs.”

Sitting at the overcrowded dinner table with Harry on your right and Ron on your left, a little part of you was dying to tell Hermione about what George said a little earlier. All this time you thought Fred only saw you as his little brother’s best friend but so many things have happened today, making you think otherwise. The dinner table is flooded with a feast whipped up by Mrs Weasley. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green peas, and of course, pumpkin juice. 

You take a long swig of pumpkin juice. “Thank you for the feast Mrs Weasley!”

She waves it off. “Oh don’t mention it dearie! Help yourself to the food everyone.” With that, everyone starts digging in. Mr Weasley passing the potatoes over to Percy, George using his wand to summon a plate of yams from across the table, everything was loud and messy. But this was what you loved about the Weasleys. 

Amid the chaos, you catch a glimpse of Fred, sitting right across the table from you, and your eyes meet. You feel your heart do yet another backflip, and you quickly direct your attention into scooping a lump of mashed potatoes onto your plate. 

“You feeling alright y/n?” Ron asked, giving you a weird look. “You've gone all red.”

“Yeah I’m fine.” You quickly say, hoping no one else noticed it.

Ron ignores you, pressing his palm on your forehead to feel your temperature. When this doesn’t work, he cups your cheeks. And when this doesn’t work, he feels your neck. “Seems fine to me.” He finally says.

“Look if you really need to check her temperature use one of these. Do you really have to put your hands all over her like that!” Fred explodes, magicking a thermometer from a cabinet across the kitchen. The whole kitchen goes silent, staring at Fred. His sudden outburst shocked everyone, even you. The playful, carefree boy had never exploded like his before. Fred looks around the table at all the eyes staring at him, turning a little red.

George is the first one to break the silence. “Well brother dear, it looks like you’ve finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Mr Weasley diverts his gaze from Fred to George. “What do you mean son?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Fred has a crush on y/n!” Bill says, laughing hysterically. 

“Good for you brother!” Charlie stands, shaking Fred’s hand. “Who would’ve thought our little Fred was capable of love!” This makes George howl with laughter, causing Fred to chase him around the kitchen trying to get him to shut up.

For the first time ever, Fred looked embarrassed. He’d played so many pranks in Hogwarts and received all sorts of punishments, but never once did he look embarrassed. This was a first. 

You couldn’t  help but laugh too. The entire situation was so embarrassing for Fred but it was so adorable at the same time. Harry leaned over and whispered in your ear “Should we tell him?” 

You shake your head. “I want to be the one to do it.” To this he nods, smiling gleefully. Hermione overhears this and gives you two thumbs up. You couldn’t possibly feel any happier than you do in this very moment. A million thoughts race through your mind. Fred likes me back? When did it begin? I can’t believe this!

“Now settle down boys! Leave him alone!” Mrs Weasley says, shushing them. The twins return to their seats, Fred as red as a tomato. He looks across the table at you, clearly searching for a reaction. Anything at all to signify you liked him back. You feel his gaze see right through you and your silly smile. Theres no way that boy doesn’t know you like him back.

After dinner Mr Weasley and Mrs Weasley do the dishes with a few swishes of their wand while all the children spread out across the house once again. Percy was back in his room busy at work. Bill, Charlie and Ginny watching a movie on the couch, though Bill was already half asleep. Fred and George were hiding away in their room doing God knows what. The mischievous twins were always busy planning their next prank. You, Harry, Hermione and Ron decide to sit on the benches out in the backyard, enjoying the cool night breeze. There under the blanket of stars, the best friends talk about the dinner scene. 

“Oh you have to tell him y/n!” Hermione jumps up and down, buzzing with excitement. “Its not everyday you find your crush likes you back!”

Ron folds his arms defiantly. “I still think y/n has bad taste when it comes to guys. I mean, of all people it just had to be Fred. The boys a fool!”

“Well why are you going to do y/n?” Harry asks, looking over at you. 

You keep your eyes fixed on the mesmerizing night sky, as though searching for an answer. “I really don’t know. I thought we’d talk about this after dinner but he’s hidden away in his room.” You let out a huge sigh before turning to look at Harry. “Maybe it was just a joke?” This made your heart sink. Your friends stay silent, all deep in thought. 

Hermione finally breaks the silence. “Well theres only one way to find out. You have to ask him.”

“I’d rather not find out.” You quickly stand up trying to shake the dreadful feeling threatening to consume you. “It’ll kill me to find out it was all just a joke.”

Just like that, sleep fell over the Burrow. Everyone tucked away under their blankets in their overcrowded rooms. After everything that happened you found it hard to fall asleep. Tossing and turning on your surprisingly soft mattress didn't seem to help and so you pull on your robe and decide to head on downstairs for a warm glass of milk. You quietly close the door behind you, careful not to wake Hermione and Ginny. When you turn to head on down the stairs you see Fred sneaking out of his room, gingerly closing the door behind him. He completely freezes when his eyes fall on you. Feeling slightly self conscious, you pull your robe tighter around yourself before quickly making your way down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Pacing back and forth, you try to utilize the last 5 seconds you had before Fred joined you in the kitchen to brainstorm something to say. Anything at all. You turn around to pace the other way only to come face to face with Fred’s chest. “Hey there.” He says.

You tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Oh hey. What are you doing out here?”

He grabs a pitcher of milk from inside the refrigerator, pouring it into two tall glasses. “I could ask you the same thing.” He slides one glass across the kitchen island to you. 

“Thanks.” You take it and swallow quickly, allowing the cool liquid to sooth your throat that felt like it was closing up.

“Truth is I couldn’t sleep.” He says, looking straight into your eyes.

“May i just ask you one thing?” You blurt out before you could stop yourself.

He nods, walking around the kitchen island towards you. “Ask away.”

“That thing that happened earlier... was it a joke?” 

He take a long sip and sets the cup down on the table before answering. “That depends.”

You frown. “What do you mean by that?”

“Did you want it to be a joke or did you want it to be real?” He looks down at you, taking one step closer. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Why should that matter?” You say, taking a step back.

“If you wish it was a joke, its a joke. If you wish it was real, then its real.” He says, once again taking a step closer to you.

“You’re such a pain Fred Weasley. If you didn’t like me you should’ve said so. This is a pure act of cowardice.” You say, turning around to leave. But before you could make it two steps away from him, he grabs your arm, pulling you back with force. This makes you lose your balance and stumble backwards straight into him. His arms wrap around you from behind, leaving no escape. 

“Um... Fred?” You manage to say, your voice barely a squeak. Your heart raced. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You guys were close but you’ve never been held like this before. 

He kisses your cheek, before slowly loosening his grasp allowing you to turn around to face him.

You touch your cheek where he kissed you. “Wha... what was that for?”

“I like you y/n.” You stare at him, in a complete state of shock. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since we first met at platform 9 3/4. I’m sorry about dinner. That wasn’t the way i hoped you’d find out but it’s true. Everything you do drives me crazy. When you went to the Yule Ball with Ron it wrecked me.”

“You know we’re just friends Fred. There’s nothing going on between Ron and I.” You take his hands in yours and bring them around your waist. “I’m already yours.” 

His face twists into a smile, pulling you closer burying his face in the crook of your neck. He kisses your shoulder, then neck, and finally crashes his lips with yours. Your lips move in sync, and you feel yourself go lightheaded. The most wonderful feeling in the world. He lifts you up, placing you on the kitchen island and you wrap your legs around his torso.

“Wait!” You say, pulling away just before things could get too heated. “Can we take it slow? I just don’t want to mess this up.” Still sort of breath from the lack of oxygen, you place a hand on your chest to regain composure. 

He brushes away a lock of hair that fell over your eyes before cupping your face with his large hands.  “Anything for you darling.” 

“Darling?” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “I didn't think you had it in you.” You always imagined Fred wasn’t the romantic kind but it appears you were wrong.

He lifts you off the kitchen island, carrying you bridal style. “Oh you have no idea.” He walks all the way to the couch, setting you down. The two of you spend the next few hours talking and laughing by the warm fire, only falling asleep an hour before daybreak.

headcannons about each individual member kf the seven as dark?

So I decided to split this answer into seven seperate posts because otherwise it would be too long (I'm having to much fun wit this XD)

I'll post the first one here <3

Ok, here we go <3, Hazel: People expected her to change after Franks death She had lost her boyfriend at fourteen no one expected that to be easy So none said anything when she kneeled over his grave for five whole days and nights Reyna simply brought her food and hot chocolate and mourned with her But if they all could have had a look into Hazel's mind they could have seen the slow death of the sweet kind girl she used to be Thoughts of hate begin to burn inside her She asks herself why Juno who saved Franks stick from burning up as a baby refused to do it a second time. The question makes her storm up to Olympus, her brown eyes hard with anger Her friends are with her, Of course, they want to protect each other now that one of them has fallen Juno awaits them in her usual glory, tall with a cloak around her shoulder and .. jewellery precious metals decorating her arms and neck "Why didn't? Do you save him? Was he just a weapon you did not need anymore?!, hazel shouts out her suspicion and now people, gods and demigods alike begin to worry The queen of Olympus remains silent She sees the hatred in hazels eyes and regrets not answering her grandsons screams for help when he burned in the flames Her silence is Hazel's answer and in her growing rage the necklace on Juno's neck starts chocking the goddess Hazel does not feel remorse, only satisfaction as she hears Junos choking It is Percy's hand on her shoulder that snaps her out and Juno's necklace flys into her open hand "You will never use a demigod like that again I will make sure of that. She says and then with one last glare leaves Things are not the same when shes back at camp Jupiter Everything and everyone annoys her, reminds her of what she has lost They are around her all the time like, Leo who reminds her of Sammy, Jason who made Frank Praetor, Percy who loved Frank like a brother Whenever they talk about Frank she feels the desire to yell at them One time when Jason tries to comfort her once again she snaps "You don't have to do this just because you made Frank Praetor and you feel guilty.", Hazel tells him a bit too harshly and Jason leaves her She feels guilty so she does her best to act as grateful as possible from now on The days are very hard for her That is why she loves the night She hasn't forgotten the power rush she got on Olympus and that is why keeps practising She steals weapons from the night patrols She makes the tunnels under the field of Mars change so that they all lead to dead ends When some of the new Rome's war veterans talk about having seen lost loved ones at night Hazel pretends to not listen She just thanks Jason in her thoughts for telling her so much about the ones that fell in the titan war Hazel disappears two weeks after Frank's death The remaining five of the seven are devastated They immediately go searching for her but even after five months there is no sign of her Other demigods start whispering Even Thalia who visits Reyna often is part of those whispers She doesn't know hazel and Frank well and yet what she has heard reminds her so much of the story of a friend she had once lost He had been left alone with his fate with his insane mother just like Hazel Thalia fears that now that Hazel has lost a loved one she will seek revenge just like Luke once did. Nico and Percy are Hazel's greatest defenders They deny every rumour and says that Hazel just needs time to calm down it's the only thing that keeps them from drowning in their guilt Hazell has gone to her old home in Alaska Arion took her there It hurts to be back but here she is saved from the gods who used her and her loved ones She's so sick of being their pawn The years pass and all alone in this cold country Hazel's heart turns to ice A few old men yell insult her with racist phrases She controls the metal ankers on their ships to impale them She hears screams from her neighbour's house at night and so she breaks the metal lock to get in The man who is beating his wife only has a second to look at her before her senses reach metal and they find it......in his

blood She concentrates hand stretched out and the man chokes to death She leaves without a word There is no remorse in her, if the gods let her sweet gentle boyfriend die why isn't she allowed to kill a few bad peopöe One day she decides to return as thoughts about her past cloud her mind Someone has to show the gods that they can't treat their children like this She returns after ten years but does not show herself to her friends Maybe because she worries that they notice how much she has changed Instead, she decides to try to control the labyrinth just like Pasiphae once did The mist helps her to create new tunnels that lead wherever she wants them to go One day they lead to new Rome She just wants to look at how everyone is doing but when she sneaks near the city hidden in her magic she sees something that makes her furious Her friends have moved on She sees them celebrating with other Romans and greeks They celebrate Gea‘s defeat like it wasn‘t just a terrible unnecessary war they had to suffer through She hates that they enjoy their demigod lives They should have told the gods that they want to live normally away from both camps that endanger their lives Unfortunately, that makes her think of Frank and how he has ripped away from his life, his home country just to serve the gods Hazel feels her rage burning like an active Volcano close to erupting She walks up the hill over new Rome and looks down at the glorious city She could bury it without even trying For a moment she thinks about the lives that will cost but then again what else could make the gods notice their flaws She reaches for all the metals buried under the city She hesitates for a moment but then she thinks about Frank, his sweet smile and with a scream the earth starts shaking Buildings and temples collapse People get swallowed by big cracks in the earth There are screams horns are blowing Mist is rising and People hear voices whisper that this is god's fault They have to be punished for their mistakes It‘s like a storm of fog being thickest at the hilltop Hazel‘s old friends are filled with dread as they have seen those powers before Leo decides to fly directly into the mist together with Piper and Jason Hazel sees them approaching and a soft smile appears on her lips The mist lightens All demigods gasp Leo yells in despair He already blames himself for Franks death and now he sees that Hazel the girl he once loved has gone mad Her once curly short hair now long falls around her shoulders Her once brown eyes glow sickly golden as if the riches of the earth have taken control over her It drives him insane and so he rips out a hammer from his tool belt and attempts to attack her Hazel feels deeply hurt by this and so she moves her hands Leo is thrown of Festus's toolbelt made of metal turning out to be his curse Hazel smashes him into the ground a hundred feet under him Festus claws impale Jason and Piper before they have time to react Hazel feels a sting in her heart but she oppresses it The gods and their quest would have killed them anyway Percy and Annabeth are still in the falling city trying to get as many people out of there as possible They both try to ignore the corpses falling from the sky Percy‘s mind is still refusing that the girl he sees as a sister would do this He knows that she has to be stopped but how is he supposed to do that? He still loves her like a sister despite the lives she is taking Her real brother steps up instead Hazel can feel his presence behind her It makes her lose focus The citizens of New Rome cry in relief when the metals stop resurfacing Their city is in ruins but at least it has stopped Before Hazel can react skeleton warriors jump out of the earth restrain her by grabbing her arms She is furious about Nicos interference and struggles to escape „Hazel please it‘s not worth it just surrender and we‘ll talk about this.“, Nico says while he walks up in front of her. Hazel‘s heart breaks at the tortured look in his eyes and she realizes that she is the reason for it She disappeared She came back and murdered

hundreds She did it for Frank but she suddenly asks herself if Frank would have ever wanted to get justice in this way Would he wanted her to become hateful and obsessed with revenge just for him? As she looks into Nico‘s eyes regret strikes her „I……..I‘m sorry.“, She whispers with tears in her eyes. Nico smiles sadly happy that his little sister came to her senses He stretches out his hand to gently touch her cheek Thunder rumbles and suddenly a lightning bold explodes the hilltop right where the children of the underworld Jupiter feels nothing as he watches Percy, Reyna and Annabeth falling to their knees, sobbing and holding each other Hazel Levesque is just another demigod for him, a girl that could not get over her boyfriend Percy buries Hazel next to Frank all by himself New Rome is rebuilt with the help of the greeks The time goes by and slowly Frank and Hazel‘s names are forgotten Juno would love if they had never existed in the first place Whenever demigods speak of them they do it with anger and the queen of Olympus fears that one day a rebellion will start It's not often that their names are talked about but when they are people always refer to them as „Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang. The couple that died in Storm and fire

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 11: Prepare For Trouble And Make It Double

In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day. Which was actually what's happening. So there we were, Annabeth, Percy, Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses. Percy and I walked side by side with our hand still connected. Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once. I was pretty much in shock myself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears. But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better. "All our money was back there," Percy reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything." "Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—" "What did you want me to do? Let you guys get killed? I was not going to leave Y/N." "You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine." "Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine." "Shut up, goat boy," I said. Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans... a perfectly good bag of tin cans." We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to Percy. "Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave." "We're a team, right?" She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world." The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. Do you want to see?

Yeah that would be nice.

It was as if it was morning, I could see everything clearly. I wandered my head to make sure I could see everything. This is cool. "You okay?" Percy asked. "Yeah," Not really a fan of the current silence I turned to Annabeth. "You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" I asked her. "No... only short field trips. My dad—" "The history professor." "Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not." If I didn't know better, I could've sworn I heard doubt in her voice. "You're pretty good with that knife," I said. "You think so?" "Yeah maybe you can teach me some tricks. "Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." Percy smiled. I couldn't really see, but I thought she might've smiled. "You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you... Something funny back on the but..." Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a shrill toot-toot-toot, like the sound of an owl being tortured. "Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!" He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff. Seeing a tree coming up I tried to pull Percy to avoid it but Percy immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on his head. I suppressed my laugh by covering my mouth which made Percy glare at me. After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. I realized I hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since I'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where we lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue. This kid needed a double cheeseburger. >We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell. It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like I'd hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read, because if there's anything worse for my dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English. To me, it looked like: ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM. "What the heck does that say?" I asked. "I don't know," Annabeth said. She loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium." Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. I crossed the street, following the smell of the hamburgers. "Hey..." Grover warned. "The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open." "Snack bar," I said wistfully. "Snack bar," Percy agreed. "Snack bar," Annabeth joined. "Are you three crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird." We ignored him. The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps. "Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!" We stopped at the warehouse door. "Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters." I turned to look at my knife. It had a light glow emitting from it. Probably because it was sheathed. "I think there's monsters." I was now reluctant and sided with Grover. "Grover's nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?" "Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." "You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him.. "Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are... looking at me."

"Percy, I don't think---"

"It'll be fine." Percy took my hand and went in. Be careful and don't look. Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady. >Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?" "They're... um..." Annabeth started to say. "We're orphans," I said. "Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!" "We got separated from our caravan," Percy said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?" "Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area. We thanked her and went inside. Annabeth muttered to Percy, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" "Your head is full of kelp." The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size. I was anxious so I tighten my grip on Percy.  It's stupid for walking into a strange lady's shop like that just because we were hungry. For a child of Athena, Annabeth sure isn't making wise decisions. I mean yeah I agree, you've never smelled Aunty Em's burgers. The aroma was like laughing gas in the dentist's chair—it made everything else go away.  But Grover's nervous whimpers, and the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow me, to add the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind us. Made me more cautious. Sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front. "Please, sit down," Aunty Em said "Awesome," Percy said. "Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am." Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans." "Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said. Aunty Em stiffened, as if Annabeth had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly, I had to turn to Annabeth to check if there was something wrong with her.. Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, child."  I wonder how she knew Annabeth's name, even though we had never introduced ourselves. "Percy, I want to leave..." I whispered. "Just a few bites Y/N. Don't worry." He gave me a reassuring pat. Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries. I wasn't gulfing down my food like Percy was.  Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat. Annabeth slurped her shake. "What's that hissing noise?" he asked. I listened, but didn't hear anything. Annabeth shook her head. "Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover." "I take vitamins. For my ears." "That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax." I don't like it here. I'm scared. Be wary of all things. Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. "So, you sell gnomes," I said, trying to sound interested. "Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know." "A lot of business on this road?" "Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get. My neck tingled, as if somebody else was looking at me. I turned, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified."Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face." "You make these statues yourself?" Percy asked. "Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep and so real that I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Annabeth had stopped eating. She sat forward and said, "Two sisters?" "It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price." Annabeth gave me a look of worry. I knew she realized something. "Percy?" I shook him to get his attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting." Grover was eating the waxed paper off the tray now, but if Aunty Em found that strange, she didn't say anything. "Such beautiful gray eyes," Aunty Em told Annabeth again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen gray eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke Annabeth's cheek, but Annabeth stood up abruptly. "We really should go." "Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!" "Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?" "A pose?" Annabeth asked warily. "A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children." Annabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy—" "Sure we can," Percy said. "It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?" "Percy, I don't want to..."  "It's just a photo guys." "Indeed it is just a photo Y/N," the woman purred. "No harm." I could tell Annabeth didn't like it as well, but she allowed Aunty Em to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues. Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr. "Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girls in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side." "Not much light for a photo," I remarked. But joke's on her I could see quite clearly. Don't look. "Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?" "Where's your camera?" Grover asked. Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?" Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand." "Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear." She still had no camera in her hands. "Percy—" Annabeth said. "I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil...." "Percy, something's wrong," I insisted. "Wrong?" Aunty Em said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?" "That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped. DON'T LOOK. Annabeth turned to my direction, "Look away from her!" she then shouted. She whipped her Yankees cap onto her head and vanished. Her invisible hands pushed Grover and and I pulled Percy with me. We were on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet. I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, Annabeth in another. "Percy, we have to move!" I shook him. But he was too dazed to move. Then I heard a strange, rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails. Percy was about to look higher then her hands and I instinctively covered his eyes. "Don't look!" More rasping—the sound of tiny snakes, right above me, from... from about where Aunty Em's head would be. "Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers. "Percy we have to move please!" "Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face," she said soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look up." "Percy please!" Percy pushed my hand away and looked to one side. I turned to look as well and saw one of those glass spheres people put in gardens— a gazing ball. I could see Aunty Em's dark reflection in the orange glass; her headdress was gone, revealing her face as a shimmering pale circle. Her hair was moving, writhing like serpents. Aunty Em. Aunty "M." How did Medusa die in the myth? But I couldn't think. Something told me that in the myth Medusa had been asleep when she was attacked by my namesake, Perseus. She wasn't anywhere near asleep now. If she wanted, she could take those talons right now and rake open my face. "The Gray-Eyed One did this to me," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to look up, to sympathize with a poor old grandmother. "Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this." "Don't listen to her!" Annabeth's voice shouted, somewhere in the statuary. "Y/N carry Percy!" "Silence!" Medusa snarled. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer. We won't even hurt, Y/N." I swung Percy's arm around my shoulder. But he was too heavy.  "No," he muttered trying to make his legs move... "Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain." "Y/N!" Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a two-hundred-pound hummingbird in a nosedive. Grover yelled, "Duck!" I turned, and there he was in the night sky, flying in from twelve o'clock with his winged shoes fluttering, Grover, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone. "Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!" I tackled Percy to the other side. Thwack! Then Medusa roared with rage. "You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!" "That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back. Pulling along an out of a dazed Percy we scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass. Ker-whack! "Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spitting. Right next to me, Annabeth's voice said, "Y/N! Percy!" Percy jumped so high his feet nearly cleared a garden gnome. "Jeez! Don't do that!" Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. 'You have to cut her head off." "What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here." "Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance." "What? I can't—" "Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?" She pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster. Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." She studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—" "Would you speak English?" "I am!" She tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly." "Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!" "Roooaaarrr!" "Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch. "Hurry," Annabeth told him. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash." Percy took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of Riptide showed. He turned to me and gave the glass then offered a hand. "Percy you can't be seriously bring her along!?" "I'll go with him." Taking his hand, we followed the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa's hair. I raised the glass so I could guide us. I kept my eyes locked on the gazing ball so I would only glimpse Medusa's reflection, not the real thing. Then, in the green tinted glass, I saw her. Grover was coming in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful "Ummphh!" Medusa was about to lunge at him when I yelled, "Hey!" We advanced on her. I had let go of Percy's hand to bring out my knife. So if she charged, I could help Percy. But she let us approach—twenty feet, ten feet. I could see the reflection of her face now. Surely it wasn't really that ugly. The green swirls of the gazing ball must be distorting it, making it look worse. "You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't." I could tell he hesitated. From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!" Medusa cackled. "Too late." She lunged at him with her talons. I ran and raised my knife to block her talons, Percy then swung his sword, then we heard a sickening shlock!, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating. Something fell to the ground next to my foot. It took all my willpower not to look. I could feel warm ooze soaking into my sock, little dying snake heads tugging at my shoelaces. "Oh, yuck," Percy said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming. "Mega-yuck." Annabeth came up next to us, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa's black veil. She said, "Don't move." >Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice. "Are you okay?" Percy asked me, his voice trembling. "Yeah," I decided. "Why didn't... why didn't the head evaporate?" "Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," she said. "Same as your minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you." Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head. "The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man." He managed a bashful grin. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun." He snatched his shoes out of the air. "I didn't know Grover got Luke's shoes."  Percy recapped his sword. "I can't fly." He shrugged.  Together, the four of us stumbled back to the warehouse We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head. We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak. Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?" Annabeth flashed me an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him." "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa." Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of my voice, she said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'" "Forget it," I said. "You're impossible." "You're insufferable." "You're—" "You're both loud and stupid." I growled. "Yeah!" Grover interrupted. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?" I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS! I was angry, not just with Annabeth or her mom, but with all the gods for this whole quest, for getting us blown off the road and in two major fights the very first day out from camp. At this rate, we'd never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice. What had Medusa said? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Percy and I shared a look. We got up. "I'll be back." "Percy, Y/N," Annabeth called after me. "What are you—" We searched the back of the warehouse until I found Medusa's office. Her account book showed her six most recent sales, all shipments to the Underworld to decorate Hades and Persephone's garden. According to one freight bill, the Underworld's billing address was DOA Recording Studios, West Hollywood, California. I folded up the bill and stuffed it in my pocket. In the cash register I found twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, and some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins.  "Found one." Percy called. We went back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip: The Gods >Mount Olympus 600th Floor, >Empire State Building New York, NY With best wishes, PERCY JACKSON <3 Y/N L/N "They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent." I poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as I closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop! "I am impertinent," Percy said. I looked at Annabeth, daring her to criticize. She didn't. She seemed resigned to the fact that we had a major talent for ticking off the gods. "Great, well Fred and George," she muttered. "We need a new plan."

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Fairytale (Ficmas #8 Solangelo)

My solangelo boys are back!! This is set with them as mortals but like that’s as much as I thought about it, there’s really noting specific to know! Anyways my two boys had to make an appearance!

It wasn’t that Nico hated Christmas.

The holiday himself he could actually get on board with. Presents, family, all that crap. He even liked all the lights and sparkly things. Not that he’d ever admit to that part, but he did. It was the chaos he despised. People everywhere, everyone suddenly losing the concept of personal space. Nico was not on board with that.

So his dread for one of the busiest times of the year somehow gave the impression that he hated all Christmas related things. And his friends being, well being his friends meant that their personal mission was to make him love Christmas.

“Hey Nico!” Jason yelled, cranking up the volume of the radio. “This is like the best Christmas song, you can’t say you don’t like this!”

Fairytale of New York was playing. Nico actually loved this song. Cursing and getting to call it festive? Sign him up. He did however, have  a reputation to uphold.

“Try not to burst those eardrums.” He drawled, rolling his eyes. “We don't need you deaf as well as blind.” He said, referencing Jason’s new glasses.

“Ha ha ha.” Jason said sarcastically, but he turned the volume down a little. Nico looked away so he could hide his smile.

“You know, the first Christmas trees can actually be traced back to ancient Greece and Egypt.” Annabeth chattered as Nico accompanied her on their quest to find the star in Sally Jackson’s attic. 

“Yeah?” He prompted. He didn’t have to say much with Annabeth, but he liked that, they had an easy relationship. She always understood him, but she never flaunted it, just made sure he knew she was always there for him.

“Mhm,” She continued, tongue poking out as she dug through one box. “Although the trees like we know them today began in Germany in the 1500’s.”

“Huh.” Nico said. A gold point dug into his hand and after the initial quick draw back of his arm, he peered into the box and carefully pulled out the delicate decoration.

“Got it.” 

Annabeth looked up and grinned. “Amazing. I need to get away from all this dust.”

Nico just nodded his agreement, and followed her back down to the warm rooms below.

“Hey Nico, wanna help me make cookies?” Percy called from the kitchen, already putting on his blue apron.

Nico wandered into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter, stealing some chocolate chips. “No, but I’ll watch.”

Percy snatched the chocolate away from him. “Watch does not mean eat. I can’t make chocolate chip cookies if you eat all the chocolate chips.”

Nico shrugged. “Have you tired?” He asked, managing to take back the chips. “Because there’s really only one way to find out.”

Percy ended up smashing a chocolate bar. Nico enjoyed some very good chocolate chips.

“Here’s your one Nico!” Piper called, throwing him a very ugly and very itchy Christmas jumper. 

Nico looked at it’s offensively obnoxious colours and flashing lights and raised an eyebrow at Piper, looking at her right in the eye.

“Do you really think I’m going to wear this?”

Piper shook her head, chuckling. “Not at all. But it was worth a shot.”

Nico quirked a small smile at that. He could respect her attempt at least.

The doorbell rang and Nico’s heart stuttered. They were all staying at the Jackson’s for a couple of days and there was only one person who hadn’t arrived yet. Leo smiled at Piper and Nico ignored it, getting up and going straight to the door, seeing a blur of gold through the little fogged window. He threw the door open, and there was Will, a bag over his shoulder, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“Hey Sunshine.” He drawled. Nico Helped him throw his rucksack on the floor, pulling the other boy into his arms.

“Miss me?” Will laughed as Nico tightened his grip around his waist. 

“No.” Nico scoffed, but he placed a kiss to the place where Will’s shoulder met his neck, right under where Nico’s lips rested.

Will pulled back, his long musician's fingers cupping Nico’s jaw as bright blue met deep brown.

“Well I sure missed you.”

Nico rolled his eyes, but leaned down so he could finally kiss his boyfriend. Will’s nose was cold where it nudged against Nico’s own, but his lips were warm and Nico just wanted to melt into him.

“Hey Will?” Leo asked, poking his head out of the living room. “It looks like you’ve got something on your face.”

Nico pulled away, turning slowly to glare at Leo.

“Hey Mr Mechanic?” Nico asked, his voice pleasant. “Don’t forget that I know where you sleep.”

Leo’s face paled and he vanished once more, Will bursting out laughing.

“Alright darlin’ are we going to go in or is this as much as the house I’ll be seeing for the duration of our stay?”

Nico turned back to look at Will, his arm still held tightly around his boyfriend's waist.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you’re sarcastic?”

Will smirked, leaning in to press one more kiss to Nico’s lips.

“Once or twice.”

“Well I love it.”

“And I love you.”

Nico smiled, and this time he didn’t hide it from anyone. “I love you too.” He kissed Will on the cheek then grabbed his bag for him, leading him into the living room where everyone else waited.

Jason played Fairytale of New York again and Nico stooped down a little to rest his chin on Will’s shoulder as Will leaned back against him.

“I love this song.” Will hummed, beginning to sing along. His energy was infectious and soon almost everyone was half singing - half shouting the lyrics.

“When you first took my hand on that cold Christmas Eve, you promised me Broadway was waiting for me.”

Will turned in Nico’s hold to loop his arms loosely around his neck. 

“You were handsome!” Percy shouted.

“You were pretty!” Will continued, looking at Nico expectantly. Nico bit his lip and rolled his eyes, but tilted his head in acquiescence.

“Queen of New York City!”

Piper let out a whoop and Nico laughed, joining in for the rest of the song.

“Hey did you know it was the ancient Greeks and Egyptians who had the first Christmas trees?” Will asked as everyone was settling down to watch a movie.

Nico could practically hear Annabeth’s eyes lighting up.

“Yes!” She enthused as Nico rested his head on Will’s shoulder. “But the tree’s like we know them weren’t until the 16th century in Germany.”

“Yeah but they were decorated with fruit and nuts and stuff.” Nico said, half yawning as he pulled a blanket over himself and Will. He could feel everyone’s gaze on him and he looked up a little self consciously.

“What? I know things.”

Annabeth just smiled knowingly at him threading her fingers through Percy’s inky black hair.

“Okay guys, we need to take a picture of us all in our jumpers!” Piper said excitedly, already wearing hers and setting up the timer on the camera as even Sally and Paul came in for the picture.

“Oh we’re all matching!” Will enthused, holding up Nico’s as his was already on. “Come on sweetheart, just for a minute?”

Nico flipped off Leo, laughing in the corner as he shrugged on the ridiculous sweater.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” He muttered to Will as Piper wrapped an arm around his shoulders, Jason on her other side.

Will kissed his cheek. “Oh I know.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Sally yelled from the kitchen, the houses’ temporary inhabitants scattered throughout all the different rules.

“Oh my god yes.” Nico said, standing up from the couch, pulling Will up with him. “I would happily eat Sally’s food for the rest of my life.”

“What about McDonalds?” Will teased, tugging Nico’s hand playfully. Nico paused in the doorway, looking back at Will.

“Don’t make me choose.” He begged, hoping he could do that thing with his eyes that usually made people cave. Will was not people however.

“Hey Sunshine, you started this. Now Sally’s or McDonalds?”

Nico looked at the floor, scuffing his shoe against the floor. “Sally’s.” He grumbled. “But only for her cake.”

“Oh of course. God forbid there was actually a healthy reason in there.” Will teased, stepping closer, then glancing up.

“Hey look.” He whispered.

Nico did, spotting the red and green dangling from the doorframe.

“Mistletoe. Remind me not to walk through any door at the same time as Leo.”

Will tapped his arm lightly. “Hey!”

Nico grinned and looked back down, Will’s face only inches away from his own.

“Sorry babe.” He glanced back upwards and shrugged. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin the festivities.” He reasoned.

“Of course not.” Will agreed, smiling and leaning closer until their lips brushed.

“Love you.” Nico breathed, just before sealing their lips properly, sliding his fingers into Will’s gorgeous curls.

“Hey guys, dinner!” Sally called once more, and Nico pulled away regretfully.

“Come on, food and then we can get back to this.”

Will beamed and followed him away from the mistletoe.

“Hey Neeks?” Nico glanced over.

“Yeah?”

“Love you too.”

All in all, Nico reasoned, Christmas really wasn’t all that bad.