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tsarisfanfiction · 28 days

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The Best Teacher

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Kayla, Yan, Jerry, Will All new Apollo kids have to have their archery skills vetted. TOApril 2024 has begun and this time I plan on actually taking part, so here is day 1 - Missed Target

“Have either of you shot before?” Kayla asked, turning to face her two newest siblings. Perhaps she should have asked that earlier, before leading them to the archery range and putting bows in their hands, but who said she was the best person to be doing this?

Well, she was the best archer in camp, so of course she was.

Kayla steadfastly ignored her spectating brother from where he was pretending not to watch behind the waiting line. Will might be head counsellor, but he was not the best archer in camp.

Yan shrugged. He – they, she corrected herself – held the bow she’d given them up, inspecting it. She hadn’t given them anything complicated; camp default was the longbow, which was very much a point and shoot type of bow. Powerful, but easy enough for most demigods to get the hang of. “Once or twice,” they said in a dismissive voice that meant either they were lying, or didn’t think it was important.

Next to him, Jerry was plucking at the string of his bow – composite recurve, because he was a bit younger and smaller and longbows were tall – absently. “Nope!” he said cheerfully.

Well, Kayla had had worse students – ones that had shot before and thought they were good at it, until she caught sight of their form and realised it was a miracle they hadn’t hurt themselves trying to draw their bows. Not used to shooting meant blank slates.

“Okay,” she said. “In that case, part one – safety rules at the range, before our big brother yells at me because I forgot to say something and someone gets hurt.” She intentionally didn’t look towards where Will was sitting with Nico. “This is the waiting line. Don’t step past that unless you’re about to shoot.” She pointed at the line closer to the targets. “That is the shooting line. While doing range shooting, you stand on that line and do not cross it under any circumstances while anyone has a bow in their hand.”

“What about non range shooting?” Yan asked, and Kayla shrugged back at them.

“That comes once you can range shoot well enough to not kill anyone,” she said. “So, who’s first?”

“Me!” Jerry shrieked, throwing his hand in the air at the same time Yan said “age order,” and stepped up to the waiting line.

Kayla should have expected that, really.

“Experience first,” she decided. “Jerry, stay there and watch.” The British boy pouted but Kayla ignored him as she led Yan up to the shooting line.

For demonstration reasons, she’d passed over her own bow in favour of a longbow. The smooth European yew felt different in her hand to her usual carbon fibre, but it was still instinct to raise it and draw back under the close watch of her new siblings.

“Let it settle,” she cautioned. “Then one… two… release.” Her arrow thudded into the centre of the target, burying itself halfway to the fletching. “And finish like this.” She held her position for a moment, letting Yan take it in before relaxing.

“I got it,” they said calmly, and before Kayla could even say anything, they had their loaned longbow at full draw, steady and with beautiful form.

Before she came to camp, Kayla would have thought Yan had lied about how little they’d shot before, but she knew better now. Things didn’t always follow logical sense for demigods, and being able to perfectly draw back a longbow when they were a child of Apollo was hardly surprising. Yan didn’t count out loud, but they didn’t need to. Kayla saw the bow settle as the draw weight sat into their back muscles, and the moment it stabilised, they released.

It wasn’t a perfect shot – their technique was, but they clearly needed to work on their aim a little – but their arrow buried itself in the inner red ring of the target.

Another archer sibling. Kayla grinned and handed them another arrow. “Again,” she encouraged, and they obliged with a grin of their own, smaller than hers but she suspected no less maniac. It was a thrill, feeling the bowstring sing and knowing that the arrow was going to land exactly where it had aimed.

Yan’s second shot was closer, breaking the line between inner red and outer gold, and Kayla knew it wouldn’t take much more practice before they were hitting gold every time – and once they could do that at greater distances, it would be time to move on to combat archery rather than target archery.

Kayla was delighted, but before she could give Yan another arrow, Jerry made his presence known behind her.

“When’s it my turn?” he demanded, and Kayla realised she couldn’t expect him to keep waiting. Maybe he would be another archer sibling; she’d like that. Most of their cabin were healers and musicians before they were archers (she carefully didn’t think about why) – and if she was honest, she’d like more siblings that could help her support their dad, if he ever came back and brought more enemies with him.

“Now,” she said, handing a few more arrows to Yan. “Keep shooting,” she told them, confident that they wouldn’t hurt themselves if she looked away (anyway, Will was there if something did go wrong).

Jerry bounded over the shooting line, looking eager – more eager now than he had before Yan had shot, and Kayla couldn’t quite forget that the two of them had arrived together, had reportedly known each other for some time before discovering they shared a father. He made impatient grabby hands for an arrow, and Kayla gave him one.

Instantly, she could tell that Jerry was not an archer first and foremost. He fumbled the nock against the string a couple of times before it finally caught, and when she had him mirror her at full draw… There were things to work on.

Before she could step closer to him to correct his stance, he let the arrow fly, jerking back awkwardly at the bow’s recoil, because he hadn’t been stable at all, and the arrow predictably responded in kind.

Kayla didn’t see where it landed, because she was too busy looking at Jerry, but she noticed the distinct absence of the thunk of an arrow hitting a boss. Instinctively, she winced. Missing the target entirely was embarrassing, especially as she had them set so close to the shooting line for initial lessons.

Jerry looked like he was about to cry, and Kayla was not equipped to deal with crying younger brothers, so she hurriedly stepped up to him and started nudging his feet with hers.

“Let’s fix your stance before you try again,” she said, gripping his shoulders and twisting his torso until it was straight, side on to the targets. “Feet wider… wider… wider… okay, that’s good. Head…” she put her palms either side of his face and carefully directed it to look straight at the target without twisting the rest of his body. She nocked the next arrow herself. “Draw back… Elbow up. And back more. More… more. Use your back muscles, not your arms, it’ll be easier.”

After some poking and prodding, she had Jerry standing at full draw in something that looked reasonably like it was supposed to – not perfect, but that was going to take some work, she accepted with some internal dejection. Just because Da was a coach didn’t mean she was a good coach. Teaching people to shoot was far harder than shooting. “And release.”

There was at least a thud of contact this time, but when Kayla turned to look at where it had gone, it had still landed outside of the target sheet, barely hanging on to the edge of the boss.

Jerry burst into tears.

“It was better!” Kayla tried to reassure him. “It’ll just take some practice!” Behind Jerry, she could see Yan approaching, looking distressed at Jerry being upset, and this was way out of Kayla’s wheelhouse.

A hand on her shoulder pulled her back slightly and she glanced up to see Will smiling at her gently. “I’ve got this,” he promised. “You take Yan.”

“But-” She was the one that was supposed to be teaching them. Will wasn’t actually supposed to be there at all, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be taking over teaching when he was the worst archer in cabin seven!

Well. Second worst archer, now.

“I was that bad when I started,” Will told her, his voice raised enough that Jerry and Yan could hear him, too. “I’ve got a few tips and tricks that I was given back then that helped me, so they might help Jerry, too.”

Kayla hated that she could probably guess who had given Will those tips and tricks, because she’d noticed that he had a habit of not naming their dead siblings ever if he could help it. He’d mention names she didn’t recognise, ones that had left before she’d arrived, but the ones that had died?

Introducing others to the archery range always made her think of Michael and the first time he’d introduced her.

“Go on,” Will nudged her. “Go have fun with Yan. I’ve got Jerry.”

It seemed wrong, leaving the two worst archers together, but maybe Will had a point, and Kayla really wasn’t equipped to deal with Jerry’s tears – or the frustration she was going to feel when Jerry kept struggling, because she could admit she wasn’t the most patient demigod in the world. Not even close.

“Okay,” she caved, passing the spare quiver to Will and persuading herself that she wasn’t giving up, she was just being smart, and Yan still needed some tips on aiming, if nothing else. “Come on, Yan, let’s get your aim perfect.”

“But-” they protested. Kayla ignored it and grabbed their arm, pulling them back to their place on the shooting line.

“Will’s got Jerry,” she assured them, and Yan hadn’t been in camp long enough to know exactly what that meant, but they knew that Will was head counsellor – and sure enough, already, Kayla couldn’t hear any more crying, just a low murmur of reassurance from their big brother.

She tried not to let it get to her when, despite still not managing anything better than the outer black all session, Jerry still looked far happier with Will’s tuition than her own.

Will was just like that.

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfiction #toapril #toapril 2024 #kayla knowles #toa yan #toa jerry #will solace #cabin seven

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tsarinatorment · 2 years

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I don’t normally do posts like this unprompted, but this idea’s been hanging around in my head for the last couple of days and I want to throw it out there properly so here’s a short, not very in depth version of it (I’ll dig more depth out of this later if there’s interest, don’t have book access to do a formal theory post right now)

Apollo’s kids are simultaneously Greek and Roman.

Disclaimer: this is a headcanon with no explicit canon backing, but it’s an interesting (I think) idea that could be canon because it’s not disproved either.

Apollo himself does not change between Greek and Roman. He’s not affected by the schism (in BOO he’s hiding from Zeus, not being assailed by the headache most gods are), and he thinks about his fellow gods in both their forms with no issues at all (Ares and Mars, Artemis and Diana, Zeus and Jupiter, etc.)... It’s even supported by actual history because Apollo was never superimposed over an existing Roman deity and was kept in his original Greek form, more or less, if I’m remembering my little bit of A-Level Classics correctly.

So why should his kids have a divide? If Apollo does not change, then how could some of his kids be Greek and some be Roman? Why aren’t they all Greek? (If not for known Legacies like Octavian, and Frank hoping to be an Apollo kid, we could argue that that’s the case, but clearly CJ recognises Apollo kids exist, so...)

Conclusion: Apollo is both Greek and Roman all the time (would explain why he’s the sun god when in rrverse Helios fades at about the same time the chronology switches to Roman, actually), therefore his kids are both Greek and Roman.

What does this mean for the kids? It means they can go to either camp (most end up at CHB because Apollo’s the patron and guides them there etc., also archers are treated better in CHB than CJ, but they could go to CJ instead - this is where I point out there are loads of Apollo kids in CHB but none in CJ at least during TTT). It means they’re fluent in both Ancient Greek and Latin (explainable in CHB by Latin being so prominent in medicine; Latin is a used language in CHB anyway - see Chiron sometimes, maybe he’s trying to make Latin-speaking seem more normal).

What does this mean about Octavian? It means Octavian probably realises he’s effectively half-Greek, hence the earlier awareness/acceptance of the Greek demigod existences, tries to hide it (maybe even tries to convince himself he’s wrong), and basically spends his entire storyline denying who he is. Generally this makes Octavian’s entire role in the story even sadder to someone who doesn’t view him as a cold-hearted villain, but I refuse to make this longer than it’s got already so that can be a more detailed discussion later, if people are interested.

In fact, any or all of this can be a more detailed discussion later; just let me know if you wanna hear it and if so, I’ll give this a proper essay treatment sometime next week or so when I have book access again.

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toasecretsanta · 1 year

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Family Time

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Apollo, Nico, Will, Austin, Kayla, Jerry, Yan

After a stressful day of family arguments disguised as a council, Apollo really wanted some less stressful family time. A gift for @crystalcatgamer from @tsarinatorment using the prompts “Apollo visiting his kids” and “Apollo and Nico bonding”. Couldn’t fit the third prompt in, unfortunately! This is set in winter so it’s year-rounder campers only, and I headcanon Gracie as a summer-only, which is why she’s missing.

Campers were just beginning to peel away from their breakfast tables when Apollo strolled into camp. The winter solstice the previous day had been full of its usual family tensions and thinly veiled posturings – things Apollo only really enjoyed when he wasn’t directly involved, and in the darkest depths of the year, when he was cold and tired and maybe Artemis wasn’t completely wrong when she said he got lazy in the winter, it lost most of its entertainment factor even then. No wonder, then, that he wanted to spend the next day with his children, away from the tense politicking of Olympus.

His intention had been to spend it relaxing, but immediately he noticed something a little odd at his table.

Nico was there (not odd at all, the son of Hades frequently joined his children and was incredibly welcome to do so), but Will was not.

When Apollo thought about it, Will’s absence wasn’t completely surprising – even whilst dealing with the biannual family argument disguised as a council, Apollo had felt and responded to his son’s healing prayers as they reached him, so he was well aware that something had happened late into the previous night, although the lack of unease throughout the camp implied that nothing was concerning the demigods now.

The only question was whether Will was doing the sensible thing, or the worried healer thing, but even that was quickly deduced by Nico’s unhurried presence at his table. If Nico thought Will was doing anything remotely daft, he would be telling him so at the very least, and almost certainly attempting to stop him, so Apollo approached his table with the reassurance that Will was fine.

“Good morning,” he trilled, sliding onto the stone bench between Austin and Yan and putting an arm around each of their shoulders, reaching out to grip Kayla and Jerry’s shoulders in greeting and sending Nico an enthusiastic grin which had his future son-in-law rolling his eyes – but also the hint of a returning smile playing at the corner of his mouth, which Apollo’s keen eyes definitely spotted.

“Hi, Dad,” his kids chorused. Yan leant against his side subtly and he gave their shoulder a brief squeeze as he began with the usual questions – what had they been up to since he last saw them, anything fun or exciting? He’d been keeping as much of an eye on them as he could get away with, of course, but it was always so much better hearing about Austin’s latest youtube fame straight from his son’s mouth, or the fact that Kayla’s experimenting with bow styles outside of her mastery in recurve had her currently focusing on a specific type of horse bow (Apollo had wondered if she would ever pick one of those up, and if she did, if it would be because or in spite of the memory of a certain older brother). Jerry’s continued determination but tragic failure to convert the primarily American born-and-raised kids to the wonders of cricket always made for a riveting story, and Yan’s own strides in increasing their distance at the archery range filled Apollo with pride.

Nico, Apollo noticed as he listened to his kids’ stories, was quietly piling a plate full of food which looked suspiciously geared towards Will’s preferences. The fact that he wasn’t running off with it as soon as he was done, but rather set it to one side with a glare towards table eleven that just dared someone to try and touch it (not even Hermes’ children were that foolish), added weight to the likelihood that Will was still asleep.

Eventually, after their tales were fully regaled, his kids helpfully confirmed it for him.

“There was a new arrival late last night,” Austin told him. “Will didn’t get back to the cabin until…” he trailed off, clearly trying to remember although Apollo was pretty certain none of his children had any real sense of time when the sun was down, if they’d even stirred when Will had no doubt stumbled back into the cabin, exhausted and bleary-eyed.

“Three in the morning,” Nico finished for him. “I was the one that dragged him out once he was done,” he informed Apollo, who gave him an approving look.

“You’re good for him,” he said, not for the first time and certainly not the last, either. The Italian boy’s pale cheeks flushed slightly pink, although Nico didn’t look away or otherwise acknowledge his words.

“He’ll probably wake up soon,” his son’s boyfriend continued instead. “Seeing as for some reason he always seems to wake up at dawn, or near after it.” The accusation was pointed.

Apollo shrugged. “What can I say, it’s the best time of the day,” he said, fully supported by his four awake children who were, of course, all natural morning people.

Nico scoffed. “Just keep telling yourself that,” he retorted, and Apollo pressed a hand to his chest, swooning back in dramatic offence.

“The betrayal,” he whined, to the beautiful sound of four children laughing and a fifth snorting almost imperceptibly. “Nico di Angelo, I thought we were friends!”

“Am I supposed to be friends with my boyfriend’s dad?” Nico asked, eyebrow raised, and Apollo spluttered, remembering at the last moment that Nico might not like the reminder that he was also Apollo’s cousin in the context of the current conversation and redirecting his response into safer waters.

“Are you telling me we weren’t friends before you met my son?” he demanded instead, hand still splayed across his heart. “I don’t give just anyone a ride in my chariot, you know!”

“You would if you could.” Nico’s call-out wasn’t wrong but he didn’t need to say it. Apollo chose not to respond to the accusation, partially because that was the sort of thing he didn’t really need as more than a passing remark where certain gods might be listening.

“So, what are you all planning to do without Will to keep an eye on you?” he instead asked his children.

“Yan promised to help me get enough people for a game of cricket,” Jerry said instantly, and Apollo glanced down at the child in question, who scoffed.

“Are there enough people in camp to make a full game?” they asked, not disputing their British brother’s claim but ruthless with their logic regardless.

Jerry was undeterred. “We can adapt it,” he insisted. “Smaller teams, with less wickets…” He continued along the vein for several minutes, having clearly thought about the topic in great depth, while his siblings rolled their eyes good-naturedly. “…and Harley already agreed to make us bats, wickets, and balls!”

That got the alarmed attention of Austin, who had at some point during his youngest brother’s impassioned speech withdrawn an oboe reed (Apollo suspected it was one of Alice’s spares, left behind when she’d gone back to her mother for the school term) from one of his pockets and started absent-mindedly blowing into it. The loud squawk that erupted from it at Jerry’s proclamation earned him a punch from Kayla, who had the misfortune of having her ear a little too close.

“No,” Austin declared immediately. “Will would kill you.”

“Will’s asleep,” Jerry pointed out, with all the flawless logic of a preteen.

“And staying that way,” Nico interjected, a little forcefully. “Not being dragged out of bed to patch up everyone who gets in the vicinity of Harley’s latest death traps.”

“Cricket is a safe sport!” Jerry argued back, and Apollo sensed the potential for some injured pride and genuine sibling arguments – things he had left Olympus to escape.

“It is,” he agreed, reaching for Jerry’s shoulder once more and giving it a soft squeeze. “What your siblings and Nico are trying to say is that Harley, while a very impressive young man and inventor, has a tendency to make things that are supposed to be safe… not so safe.” He remembered the three-legged death race all too clearly.

“But camp doesn’t have all the gear,” Jerry whined, shoulders slumping dejectedly. “I’ve got Mum’s ball, but…” There was the hint of a quiver to his lower lip and Apollo was not letting that happen.

A snap of his fingers and one flash of bright light later had a pile of cricket equipment on the ground next to table seven, complete with all the safety gear Jerry had forgotten to mention. Instantly, bright brown eyes lit up in delight, and the threat of tears disappeared. “You’re the best, Dad!”

He all but launched himself from the table, rummaging through the gear until he found the brand-new ball nestled inside one of the wicket keeper’s gloves and held it aloft proudly.

“Dad,” Kayla complained, just as Jerry excitedly insisted that Yan join him and the other demigod slipped off of the bench with far less enthusiasm to get drawn into a game of catch. Jerry jammed a helmet on their head, and Apollo had to fight not to laugh at the unimpressed look on their face.

But Yan and Jerry had managed to develop a strong bond at some point while Apollo had been mortal and forcibly unaware of his children’s lives – he had later heard that the two of them had met on the way to camp, escorted by satyr guides who didn’t all make it, and that sort of shared experience usually prompted a powerful connection – so they didn’t take it off despite clearly disapproving of their younger brother’s antics.

They did, however, throw the ball a little hard and high, and smirked when Jerry let out a wail and tore down the pavilion after it. “Yaaaaaaaaan!”

Yan chuckled and reclaimed their seat next to Apollo, tugging the helmet off but keeping it in their lap.

“Cricket’s not so bad,” they shrugged at the disbelieving noise Kayla made. “Just a lot of throwing, catching, and running.”

“Archery’s better,” she grumbled, and Yan – also a fantastic archer and general marksperson – shrugged in agreement.

“It keeps him happy,” they said, which was a point she had to concede on, if rather ungracefully.

Nico muttered something under his breath which wasn’t as grumpy as the son of Hades tried to make it sound, and stood up. “I’ll go leave this where Will can grab it when he wakes up,” he said, picking up the heavily laden plate.

“I’ll come with you,” Apollo said instantly, giving the still-sitting kids another shoulder squeeze and making his own way to his feet.

It was somewhat of a surprise that Nico not only acquiesced, but also waited for him rather than walking to cabin seven by himself, and Apollo certainly didn’t waste time scrambling to join him, throwing a “be good!” over his shoulder at his awake children – Jerry had finally caught up with the ball and was hurtling back to them with it held triumphantly above his head, and Kayla’s bright hair splayed across the stone table as her forehead connected with it – despite being well aware that four demigods between the ages of twelve and fourteen left unsupervised was a recipe for chaos.

The thick curtains of cabin seven were all drawn tightly shut, a sure sign that there was an occupant either sleeping or recording a video inside. Given that the only one of his children currently in camp that wasn’t outside and causing a ruckus was not one with particularly musical proclivities, it was a clear indicator of the former – or at least, that Will was supposed to be asleep.

Neither Apollo nor Nico made a sound as they edged the door open and slipped through, but something had apparently alerted Will’s trouble’s brewing big brother senses regardless, because Apollo’s eldest in-camp child was blinking blearily as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

The blankets pooled around his waist as Will yawned, running a hand through an impressive bed-head of tangled waves. He still looked exhausted, skin a little too pale and an indication of bags threatening to form beneath his eyes, and in a wordless agreement Apollo and Nico were immediately at his bedside, the plate of food set on top of his semi-cluttered dresser and promptly ignored.

“Go back to sleep,” Nico said bluntly, gripping his boyfriend’s shoulder and pushing him back down with arms that were far stronger than their thin appearance implied.

“What time is it?” Will asked, his voice thick, as though Nico hadn’t spoken, and Apollo added his own hand to the fray as, between them, he and Nico got Will once again laying back down.

“For you, it’s sleep time,” he informed his son, and got wide blue eyes as Will registered his presence.

“Dad?”

Apollo smiled at him, pulling the covers up and tucking them under his chin as Nico hovered, ready to stop any attempts to sit up again.

“You did well last night,” he promised, fussing with the edge of the blanket until it sat just right. “But that’s no excuse to go without sleep. Camp is fine, your siblings are fine” – it was a testament to how much Nico wanted Will to continue resting that the son of Hades didn’t have any quips to make on the subject – “you are tired, and need some sleep.”

“But-” Will protested, and Apollo shushed him.

“But nothing,” he said, brushing a light hand over his son’s forehead. Messy stands of hair tried to cling to him as he did so. “Everything will be fine; I want you to stay in here for a few more hours.”

“’m not tired,” his son tried, but the fact that he hadn’t even managed to vocalise I’m at the start of the protest defeated his argument before it even started.

“You’re being an idiot,” Nico grumbled at him. The son of Hades had perched himself on Will’s bed, near his legs, and was regarding his boyfriend with dark, slightly worried, eyes. “You need some more sleep.”

“So do you,” Will pointed out, which was clearly true on a technicality because Nico, too, had been awake at three in the morning, but also the son of Hades’ sleep schedule appeared to have finally settled into something that was far more akin to frequent naps rather than a single long sleep.

As adorable as their bantering could be, right then it was starting too feel too much like the bickering that Apollo had had more than enough of at the solstice yesterday, so he cleared his throat and drew both of their attention back to him.

“A few more hours, Will,” he said gently, adding a slight pleading tone beneath the words to make it clear that, at the end of the day, it was his son’s decision – although Apollo had strong opinions on the decision he should be making.

“I’m already awake,” his son pointed out, still not sounding like the most awake demigod the world had ever seen, but with a clear point regardless – Will, like the majority of Apollo’s children and unlike his boyfriend, was not one for naps. Having woken up already, getting back to sleep would be a greater challenge than before.

“I can help with that,” Apollo offered. Will looked torn, and Nico stepped in.

“If you sleep now, you avoid the insanity of Jerry dragging the rest of the camp into his stupid game,” he said. “Apollo gave him what he needs to torment the rest of us with it.” There was a dark look sent his way, but Apollo just shrugged it off.

“They’re bickering,” he said instead of responding to the accusation. Instantly, a look of tired resignation crossed Will’s face; head counsellors did not enjoy separating bickering younger campers, especially when said campers were also their siblings. “Escape while you can.”

Responsibility and tiredness waged war across the battleground of Will’s eyes, a battle Apollo could well appreciate.

“I won’t let it escalate,” he promised, and those words seemed to be enough to have the tension draining from Will’s muscles.

“Just a couple of hours,” his son demanded. Apollo was relieved to get any agreement at all – Will had a deep well of stubbornness which he frequently drew upon, which was probably not entirely from Naomi’s side, but apparently the idea of facing his younger siblings bickering over cricket was enough to make him want to roll over and go back to sleep for a few more hours.

Apollo could certainly relate to that.

“Just a couple of hours,” he confirmed, brushing his son’s forehead one more time and this time humming the beginning chords of a lullaby. Nothing too loud or powerful – Will would benefit best from a natural sleep, which meant being simply coaxed back down rather than being forced under – but just right for a couple more hours of truly restful sleep.

“You’d better still be here,” Will mumbled suddenly as his eyes began to droop, and something in Apollo’s chest did a happy little twist.

“I plan on being here all day,” he assured him – it wasn’t a promise, he couldn’t promise something like that when Zeus might start making ominous gestures and insist he depart, but it was the closest he could truthfully get.

It was enough to bring a small smile to Will’s lips as he slipped back under again, and Apollo pressed his lips lightly to his forehead, unable to resist.

“Sleep well,” he murmured. “You deserve it.”

Part of him wanted to sit in the peace and quiet of the cabin, rather than face whatever mischief his other progeny had managed to whip up in the handful of minutes they had been left unsupervised, but not even the constant bickering of siblings was enough to put Apollo off the idea of spending as much of the day as possible with happy demigods whose biggest issue was whether or not they wanted to play a ball game.

In the shadows of the bunk, Nico’s pale face stood out starkly as he surveyed Will’s sleeping form for several long moments.

“He’s just sleeping?” he asked after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. Apollo lowered his voice to match.

“Just sleeping,” he promised – that was an easy promise to make. “He’ll wake up again in a few hours, as agreed.” He half expected Nico to make himself comfortable and settle down for the hours’-long wait, but once again the son of Hades surprised him as he slid off of the end of Will’s bed, leaving barely a wrinkle in his wake.

“He’ll get mad at me for ‘wasting’ the day looking over him,” Nico explained, apparently sensing Apollo’s faint confusion. “And I want to see how long it takes Kayla to turn that cricket ball into a pincushion.”

It was certainly a possible scenario, although Apollo hoped she wouldn’t show off her prowess quite like that – Jerry would not react well and then he would have actual fighting children on his hands. Parenting One-oh-One books tended to advise not to let that happen, especially the godly ones which were fully aware that the children involved could be rather… powerful. And destructive.

Definitely destructive.

“Please do not give her that idea,” he replied as they cautiously slipped back out of the cabin, Nico squinting at the sudden change in light levels. “She has plenty of feasible targets to try and hit in the archery range.”

“She’ll call that ball feasible,” Nico deadpanned. “You know she will.”

Nico wasn’t exactly wrong, but Apollo made a mental note to get Kayla her own supply of balls fit to be converted into pincushions so she had no excuse except pettiness to target Jerry’s new collection.

“Even more reason not to give her the idea,” he said lightly.

In the time he and Nico had been in the cabin, it appeared that the rest of his children had devolved even further into bickering – although Apollo was hopeful it remained playful bickering rather than a serious argument – over whether or not Jerry should try and get the entire camp into a game of cricket.

Kayla and Austin were firmly refusing to participate, while Yan stood steadfastly at their younger brother’s side and plucked at the grill of one of the helmets’ mouth guards. Apollo was fairly certain they didn’t actually mind the idea of playing, even though it was clearly more Jerry’s interest than their own.

Then again, Yan had already proven that their aim was as sharp with a ball as it was various other projectiles and knew they’d be a force to be reckoned with as a bowler or a batsperson.

“Is he still asleep?” Austin asked Apollo as he and Nico approached. The oboe reed had disappeared from his mouth at some point, and Apollo got the feeling that Austin was subconsciously slipping into Will’s role of eldest sibling while his own big sibling wasn’t around.

“He’s asleep,” Nico confirmed before Apollo could compose an answer. That didn’t, however, stop his mouth from running with other ideas.

“Will’s worked very hard recently,” he said, not sure if he meant just the past couple of weeks, where winter and ice provoked falls from even the most graceful demigods, or recently in the terms of a god’s reckoning, which encompassed Will’s entire life, near enough.

Not that it really mattered, though. Will deserved a break regardless, and Apollo was determined that, at least for this one morning, he would get one.

The murmur of agreeing noises was the first time since his arrival that all four awake children had been in harmony with each other. It was far more soothing than the various small bickers and snipes he’d been hearing since.

“Should we do something for him?” Austin wondered, fingers fiddling with one of the buttons on his long, soft jacket.

“He got breakfast in bed,” Kayla pointed out, although Apollo didn’t think she was actually disagreeing. “When’s the last time we got breakfast in bed?”

“But that was Nico and Dad,” Yan said. “Not us.”

“He hasn’t actually eaten it yet,” Nico muttered, but if there was one person (besides himself) that Apollo was certain was fully on board with Austin’s suggestion, it was the son of Hades. Apollo regarded the demigod in question out of the corner of his eye as his children started debating what they could do for their brother – “no, Jerry, we’re not making Will play cricket!” – and was relieved at what he saw.

Nico had been through a lot in his life. Far too much even for a grown adult nearing the end of a long and fulfilled life, and both physically and mentally he wasn’t even sixteen yet, despite what mortal records might suggest. Apollo remembered the young, sullen and betrayed child he had seen in the snow, just over four years earlier, remembered doing what he could do distract him at least for a short while from the abandonment of his sister whilst fully aware that the camp he was taking him to would not, at the time, be Nico’s salvation despite his wishes.

Not for a son of Hades, not against the stigma that had been in place for millennium. In all four thousand or so years of the camp’s existence, it had never been a safe place for children of Hades, although Apollo had tried.

To see him here, now, still standing with a group of demigods despite his main link to them being absent, interjecting in their debate and being listened to – respected, as much as a group of twelve to fourteen year olds knew how to respect someone – and all parties completely comfortable with his presence.

If Apollo was still mortal, he would have burst into tears then and there.

It was still a close-run thing, even with a sliver of godly self-control to hold them back, as he reached out for the son of Hades and gave him a brief, tight, squeeze.

Nico jumped, and fixed him with a confused glare.

“What was that for?” he demanded, interrupting Kayla’s suggestion of archery lessons.

Apollo couldn’t say what he was thinking, not without several suddenly self-conscious demigods in his midst, so he just gave Nico the biggest, brightest smile he could manage without blinding him. “I’m so happy for you,” he said, which did absolutely nothing to clear up the confusion on the Italian boy’s face.

Nico blinked at him once, twice, then shrugged and turned away. “Whatever. Kayla, are you trying to stress him out more? You know he doesn’t think he’s any good at archery.”

“A concert?” Austin suggested as his sister pouted. “I could whip up a few things for us to play… Nico, I can’t believe I’ve never asked this before, but can you play anything or would you rather sing?”

The look of stunned outrage on Nico’s face had Austin’s siblings all laughing, and even Apollo couldn’t help but smile, amused.

“Neither,” the son of Hades said firmly, and Austin’s face fell.

“Not even for Will?” he wheedled, and got a glare in return.

“Not in front of you,” Nico countered, and all of Apollo’s children pouted. There was a gleam in Austin’s eyes, however, that had Apollo wondering what idea his son had suddenly got into his head and if he should be worried about it.

Whatever it was, however, it went unspoken as Yan spoke. “We could make him something,” they suggested.

“Like what?” Kayla asked. “Best Bro Mug? He’s not Nico’s brother, though.”

“A cake!” Jerry piped up, and all of the demigods looked at each other, and then, to Apollo’s mild concern, him.

“We’re not allowed in the kitchen without supervision,” Austin said slowly.

Oh. Apollo could take a hint.

“I think a cake sounds wonderful,” he agreed, before gesturing in the direction of the Big House. “Shall we?”

The thinly-veiled concern on Chiron’s face as Apollo shepherded five demigods into the kitchen was entirely uncalled for. Dionysus simply scoffed as they passed and informed Apollo that any disasters were on his head, and Apollo beamed back at his brother, reminding him which god it was that tended to leave culinary disasters in his wake.

(So maybe Apollo had left a few. But Dionysus’ parties were legendary for a reason.)

It was only once he’d nudged all five children into washing their hands – none of them had hair long enough to need tying back, although he snapped his own from its half-up half-down manbun into a low ponytail – that he realised there was an important question that needed asking.

“Who knows how to bake a cake?”

Immediately, they all looked at each other, eyes widening a little as none of them put their hands up and said I do!

“Mum makes them all the time,” Jerry said after a moment. “It can’t be that hard.”

Genevieve Allen might have baked a lot (and Apollo remembered how delicious the outcomes had always been), but it took less than a minute into the start of the process for Apollo to realise she had never imparted any lessons on her son – or that Jerry had never paid any attention if she had.

Flour was spilt – not that anyone believed for a moment that was accidental when the victim was Nico, whose all-black aesthetic was suddenly inverted in a single incident – eggs were smashed, and Kayla seemed more interested in eating the chocolate than melting it.

Still, Apollo let the chaos continue, plucking out shards of eggshell before they could join the mixture and subtly replenishing the flour and chocolate supplies, because while it was readily apparent that none of them really knew anything about baking, they were having fun with it – despite his makeover, Nico still had a small grin on his face as he attacked the mixture with a spoon – and Apollo knew that that would be far more important to Will than the cake itself being a culinary masterpiece.

It definitely took some godly intervention (mostly in the form of Apollo prodding the five of them into doing things in approximately the correct order, rescuing more shards of eggshell, and in one particularly close call, catching the bowl when Jerry got too enthusiastic in his stirring and it almost fell to the floor), but the thing that went into the oven to make at the end of it all would at least not poison their poor brother.

Actually, Apollo had full faith that it would still be delicious. What was the use of being the god of knowledge if he didn’t know things, and he definitely knew how to bake a cake, even if for some reason no-one believed him? The steps might have been rather haphazard and chaotic, but they were still the right steps, overall in the right order.

Then he remembered that he was supposed to be supervising more than just the cake-making process, and that the kitchen looked like a warzone.

His suggestion that the children clean it while they waited for the cake to bake was met with a glorious chorus of whining, and Yan’s suggestion that Apollo do it for them – which was then met with a chorus of agreement.

Apollo shouldn’t. He knew he should make them do it themselves, but really, who was he to deny five pleading faces (even Nico’s was expectant enough that Apollo mentally grouped him with the other four).

With a sigh, he snapped his fingers and the kitchen was once again sparkling clean.

“Now what?” Kayla asked, leaning against a cupboard with a slightly-open door. Apollo could see her fingers sneaking inside to grab some more chocolate but decided to turn a blind eye. If his daughter wanted chocolate, she could have chocolate – at least until it reached the point of making her sick, but he was confident he would notice before it got to that point and stop her.

“Icing!” Jerry chirped. “Mum always makes icing!”

“Cakes need icing,” Apollo agreed.

“How do we make that?” Austin wondered, as Kayla gave up on the pretence that she wasn’t raiding a cupboard and threw it open.

“There’s sugar in here,” she proclaimed, “hey-!”

Nico had swooped in next to her and swiped the half-eaten bar of chocolate, taking a bite with a satisfying crack.

“That was my chocolate!” Kayla protested. Nico shrugged.

“Mine now.”

“I’ll shoot you,” she threatened, but Nico just smirked at her.

“Try it,” he dared.

Apollo decided to intervene before it got out of hand.

“For starters,” he answered Austin, “we need this.” A snap of his fingers had the chocolate bar disappearing from Nico’s grip and materialising on the counter.

It was Nico’s turn to exclaim “hey!” in protest. Kayla laughed at him.

“Dad, do you know how to do this?” Jerry finally asked, and five pairs of eyes settled on him. He smiled back at them.

“Of course I do!” he insisted.

“And you let us guess our way through making the cake?” Nico demanded. Apollo shrugged.

“You were having fun,” he defended himself. “It’ll be a fantastic cake. Now, as for the icing…”

With the five children now looking to him for direction, he split up the tasks between them and with far more concentration and less chaos, by the time the cake was out and cooled, they had more icing than they really needed, in a variety of colours, and Jerry had demanded Apollo produce a pen and paper so he could design how they were going to decorate the cake.

Mess returned with the application of the icing, and more of it ended up consumed than used, but that was why Apollo had arranged for so much to be made – even by the time they were done, there was plenty left over, which he reminded them was Will’s share when Kayla’s sticky fingers made fresh advances.

His daughter surrendered, and this time Apollo persuaded them to clean up the kitchen themselves – although he did at least snap them all clean so they didn’t all need urgent appointments with a shower – rather than doing it for them, which neatly ran them up to ‘a couple of hours’ since he’d helped Will roll over and go back to sleep for a bit.

No-one needed any encouragement to scramble back to the cabin, although Nico threatened all of them with shadowy horrors if their chaos woke Will if he wasn’t already awake. Apollo took care of transporting the cake, well aware that a quintet of hyped-up-on-sugar demigods was a recipe for disaster (maybe Will wouldn’t thank him for that, although there was more than enough icing left over for him to join their number very quickly), and before long they were all impatiently tapping their feet on the cabin floor.

Will, it transpired, must have already woken up because his bed was empty – although not yet made – and the plate of food Nico had left had been partially eaten. The sound of running water from the bathroom left no doubts at all as to his location, leaving the six of them with nothing to do but wait.

Nico commandeered Will’s bed, even going as far as to roughly pull the covers up before sitting on it. The other five scattered to their own bunks, while Apollo snapped a low table with plates into existence to place the cake on before perching on Will’s bed, next to Nico.

With enough noise to wake the dead, there was no way Will didn’t know they were all in there, so when the bathroom door edged open to reveal a fresh, healthy looking demigod with still-dripping hair, all they got was a fond eyeroll.

“What are you all doing in here?” he asked, apparently not noticing the new table. He was eying the clear hyperactivity with an air of I don’t want to know, and Apollo found himself the target of an exasperated look that clearly said I thought you were going to keep an eye on them.

“Waiting for you!” Kayla exclaimed, jumping down from her bunk and landing nimbly on all fours, rather like a cat.

From the look on Will’s face, that didn’t reassure him at all – or maybe he just didn’t like Kayla jumping down from her bunk rather than using the ladder.

“You can’t tell me you’ve had nothing better to do than wait for me to wake up,” he said, putting his hands on his hips – every inch the big brother he was.

Apollo decided to put him out of his misery.

“They made something for you,” he prompted as Austin joined Kayla on the floor with far more suave and much less chaos in his approach. Yan and Jerry scrambled to join them, and Apollo watched Will’s eyes widen in a surprise that quickly shifted to delight as Nico slunk to the back of the pack but unmistakably part of it.

“You helped, Dad,” Austin told him.

“I just supervised,” Apollo deflected. “You all did the work.”

That was the moment Will finally spotted the table. His siblings and boyfriend crowded him as he approached it, while Apollo settled himself by it and waited.

It would not be winning any fancy cake-decorating tournaments, but in his humble and not at all biased opinion, it was one of the best cakes he had ever seen.

THANK YOU was picked out in golden calligraphic icing – Jerry had a much steadier hand than most people equated with twelve year old children, although there were still some wobbles where he’d lost control of the piping. Around the words, each of the five had drawn something with various levels of skill.

Austin’s musical notes notated the opening bars of his latest composition in a perfect copy, while the saxophone he’d attempted to draw looked more like a smudged banana, especially when he’d started trying to scrape it off before Yan told him not to. Yan themselves had drawn the rising sun, with its rays just starting to poke over the horizon, while Jerry’s artistic talent had been used up on the calligraphy and he’d opted for a simple red cross, and a dark red blob that everyone knew was supposed to be a cricket ball, even if it rather resembled a splotch of blood.

Kayla, predictably, had attempted a bow at full draw. Bows weren’t difficult to draw, if kept simple, but she’d tried to add on all the accessories on her recurve so it had ended up a rather indistinct mass of various shades of greens and greys. Nico appeared determined to pretend he didn’t have any artistic talent at all, and had simply drawn a bright ring of gold around a black circle – Apollo was pretty certain it was supposed to represent Will’s ability to glow, although it also looked rather like a simplistic solar eclipse.

“I-” Will started. “Wha- Guys, what is this for?”

“It says right there!” Jerry protested, pointing at his calligraphy. Will put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I can read it,” he assured him, “but… what for?” His confusion rang through the cabin clearly. The six of them looked at each other; Apollo wondering how to say everything in a colloquial way that would get through to his son as the demigods seemingly faced the same dilemma.

It was Nico who answered him, in the end, summing it up with a blunt succinctness.

“For being you.”

Will blinked, but then Kayla grabbed him in a hug, and that was the cue for the rest of them to dog-pile their big brother. The blond boy went down in a flail of too many limbs, and Nico and Apollo both laughed at the sight before catching each other’s eyes.

It was only a split second, but they came to an instant, silent, decision.

Will shrieked in protest as two more bodies joined the pile on top of him, but then there was laughter, and maybe a few tears, and far too many demigods hyped up on sugar and emotions – and maybe a god, too.

It was a long time before they got around to eating the cake – which was absolutely delicious in the way all things made with love were – and catching Will up to the rest of them in terms of consumed sugar and subsequent hyperactivity that Apollo could already sense Chiron’s despairing disapproval for, but he loved every moment of it.

This was how family gatherings were supposed to be. Olympus: take note.

#toasecretsanta #tsarinatorment #crystalcatgamer #pjo apollo #nico di angelo #will solace #austin lake #kayla knowles #toa jerry #toa yan #trials of apollo #toa #riordanverse #trials of apollo fanfic #toa fanfic #riordanverse fanfic

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please-help-this-little-lesbian · 9 months

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Okay but like, how were Jerry, Gracie, and Yan claimed in Tower of Nero. Because it's implied they'd already been established as Apollo kids, but Apollo wasn't really available to claim them.

#Rick explain #did someone else do it?#*Can* another god claim someone's kids for them?#did they just go by process of elimination of them not being claimed?#IG that makes the most sense but...#toa #the trials of apollo #pjo apollo #pjo #toa jerry #toa yan #toa gracie

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thatcrazypercyjacksonfan · 9 months

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The memes of a tired Cabin 7 member, dealing with the events of Trials of Apollo.

#Toa #cabin 7 #Will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #kayla knowles #Micheal Yew #Jerry #Yan and Gracie #Apollo #trials of apollo #toa apollo #pjo apollo #lester papadopoulos #Austin Lake #In universe memes #Apollo Cabin #the typo’s just add to the authenticity shhh

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jkschanel · 4 months

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apollo cabin family dynamics… save me apollo cabin family dynamics…

but seriously… the grief that comes with being a child of apollo… more siblings than you can count is all the more to lose, counsellors barely making it past 16-17

the inherent tragedy of being a cabin of healers and fighters and poets, never knowing if the next body you have to bandage will be your sibling… born to hold a pen, forced to carry a bow

a cabin as bright as the sun, smiling faces that give hope to wounded children soldiers, singing songs around a fire even when you don’t know if you’ll make it to tomorrow

seeing the numbers dwindle, what used to be a full house becoming half empty and then barely used

but at least you have each other… whoever survives

#pjo hoo toa #cabin seven #cabin 7 #apollo #children of apollo #will solace #lee fletcher #michael yew #kayla knowles #austin lake #gracie #jerry #yan

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lesbianbanana · 5 months

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ok but why is no one talking about how all of Apollo's kids get to camp really young despite having available parents??

#like will would've 10 in ttc #kayla and austin would've been 9-11 ish in tlo #Darren Naomi and Latricia are not dead soo #pls Gracie Yan and jerry would've been like 12 at the most sooo #its just a little interesting #pjo #toa #apollo #apollo pjo #toa apollo #will solace #kayla knowles #austin lake

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amiti-art · 11 months

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I wanted to make designs for all Apollo's kids that don't have any official art (Lee, Michael, Yan, Gracie and Jerry) but semester is ending soon and I have like 5 projects to turn in the next 2 weeks >_<

I'm gonna post one more artwork later today (yes it's Apollo again, how did you know) but it's probably gonna be last one this month.

I have some WIPs so maybe I'll manage to finish something in spare time but it's hard to tell.

My asks are still open tho if anyone wants to ask or tell me anything.

#I know Michael have an appearance in a graphic novel but I'm going to ignore that #cabin 7 #michael yew #lee fletcher #Gracie #Yan #Jerry #pjo hoo toa #apollo

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hyacynta · 2 years

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Need all the Apollo kids in one room with Lester. Will, Kayla, Austin, Michael, Lee, Gracie, Jerry, Yan, Georgie, Halcyon, Asclepius, and Trophonius. ALL OF THEM.

#i dont care if half of them are dead #the drama #trials of apollo #pjo apollo #toa #lester papadopoulos #cabin 7 #halcyon green #will solace #kayla knowles #austin lake #the dark prophecy #jo and emmie #waystation #lee fletcher #michael yew #gracie jerry yan

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misformillie · 1 year

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I moved to England and found these Apollo chocolate bars on Morrisons. Of course I ordered them!

Headcanon: Jerry likes Apollo chocolate bars and brings some over for his siblings at Camp every summer

#Apollo #Apollo pjo #lester papadopoulos #trials of apollo #the apollo cabin #apollo cabin #apollo cabin headcannon #tower of nero #jerry #toa #Apollo chocolate

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 5 months

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Apollo Kids As Memes

For Jerry, Gracie, and Yan I went off pure VIBES

Phoebe the Hunter and Asclepius are also included btw! (Because I Stan Phoebe is an Apollo kid)

(Added in Apollo and Rachel later on :3)

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tsarisfanfiction · 26 days

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Absent No More

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Apollo, Cabin Seven Not much changed, after Zeus was destroyed, but for a certain group of people, they got the change they'd always wanted. TOApril day 3 - Divine Intervention! Some credit goes to @fearlessinger for today's prompt interpretation, because she was the one to suggest the Ancient Laws, so here we are!

Most things didn’t change. It was weird, for the mortals in the know, the demigods that knew the king of the gods was gone forever, that Olympus was without her ruler. It felt like there should be some sign that things had changed, but rain still fell, lightning still lashed across the sky, and whatever power vacuum may or may not have been going on in Olympus never touched their lives at all.

If not for the gap in the original horseshoe of the twelve Olympic cabins, where cabin one had once stood, they could almost, almost forget that Zeus was gone.

Except for one thing. One small thing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, barely worth a mention, hardly a footnote in the story of the Olympian uprising and subsequent consequences.

Small and insignificant to most, but not to all. To some people, great in number but barely a splash in the ocean that was the human population of the world, it was huge, on a scale they’d never dared to dream before. For many of them, it was all they’d ever wanted.

For the woman in South Korea with her own dance studio that accepted students of any age and taught some of them how to turning fighting dances into fighting, it was the helper that regularly came by to give all her students an extra bit of guidance. It was suggestions on who needed more help, or dance props that happened to include aspects of certain rare, celestial metals.

For the man in Canada, it was procedures that went perfectly and the doctor that never left his side, holding his hand as he woke up slowly with the knowledge that he was never going to feel sick if he caught sight of his bare body in a mirror again. It was celebrations and affirmations and whole-hearted acceptance, gentle hugs light enough not to agitate still-healing flesh but firm enough to be all-encompassing anyway.

For the royal bowman in Scotland, it was the company he found waiting at home after a long day of practice, either parade or combat, with a warm meal and chores all already done. It was hair ruffles and a large, bright smile, and the soothing of aching muscles with simple touches.

For the librarian in Germany, it was the patron that came by every day, smile as bright as the sun and always a stack of books to return. It was long conversations on authors, on recommendations, and the fresh stack of books checked out at the end of the day, right before she clocked out to go home, and the way she was always walked to her door.

For the actress pulling long hours to make ends meet, it was the dedicated make-up artist that always ended up working on her, no matter the role, and told her stories as she watched her transformation in the mirror. It was the way the ugly scar on her face from where she’d once tried to fight for what was right never counted against her in auditions, and smoothed away to nothing with a simple touch of foundation.

For the lawyer that had had to fight every step of the way to her position because of her gender and the colour of her skin, it was the assistant that floated past her office every day to bring her drinks and make sure the case notes were always in order, even when her dyslexia made her want to throw them out the window. It was forced breaks and warm rolls straight from the oven of her favourite bakery for no reason other than being loved.

For the brothers that played basketball for opposing teams because their greatest challenge had always been the other, it was the cheering in the crowd for both of them equally, because no matter how serious it got it was still just a game, and family didn’t pick sides. It was post-match celebratory drinks, always on the tab, no matter the result, just because.

For the doctor it was the shoulder to try on whenever he had to give a patient bad news, when all the training and skill in the world couldn’t spare patients trauma. It was the way he never, ever got sick despite the near constant exposure to illnesses, so he could always be there to give others the best care possible.

For the farmer that had fled from war to raise sheep instead, it was dawn wake-up calls and an extra pair of hands when the animals couldn’t settle. It was lambs surviving their birthing and thriving even when other farms struggled with high mortality rates and animals struggling to adapt to the ever-shifting environment.

For the poet tearing her hair out over her latest publishing deal, it was soothing hands massaging away the headache while a melodic voice recited her writing back at her, assuring her that her words were flawless. It was the way the deals always made it through, in the end, and made her enough money that she never had to give it up in order to find another, better, job to make ends meet.

For the healer surrounded by children with weapons they were still learning to use, it was a helping hand in the infirmary, and a bright hug when the last mischievous teenager that had thought they knew how to handle weapons better than they did was gone. It was falling asleep during nighttime vigils and waking up with the sun to find blankets and golden company keeping watch while he rested.

For the saxophonist it was the accompanying instrumentalist giving him a proud grin that had teeth too white to be natural as he came off stage, because the performance had gone off without a hitch, and the second, private recital for just the two of them. It was the way his instruments always stayed perfect and in-tune, never suffering misfortune on journeys from venue to venue.

For the Olympic champion it was a beaming face in the crowd as she won competition after competition, toppling world records and making them her own, and two male voices proudly claiming her as their daughter for the world to hear. It was one-on-one shooting, where they did things most mortals didn’t dream could be done with a bow and laughed the whole way through.

For the historian always finding themselves in the deepest depths of archives, it was the gentle light that was always bright enough to read by, but never damaged the precious manuscripts they poured over. It was the listening ear as they recited what they’d discovered, to make sense of it, and the quiet confirmations of someone that had been there when the history had been written – or knew someone who had.

For the bowler who also picked up a bat, because not everyone in the team could bowl but they all had to be able to hit the ball, it was the perfect lighting whenever he made the run, always in his favour and never in the batsman’s. It was the same person catching the ball over and over, when he hit a six and it sailed into the crowd.

For the drum teacher, it was the way she always had new students signing up to learn whenever she had a vacancy, eager to learn from her. It was the way she could always talk about them, celebrating when they worked hard and got to where they wanted to be with their music, or asking for help when a student was struggling and she didn’t quite know how to help them, knowing that there was always help available for her.

For Apollo’s children, whatever walks of life they ended up taking, it was their godly father finally being there in their waking hours as well as their dreams, wherever and whenever they needed them. They’d always known they were loved, but knowing it and experiencing it, it turned out, were two entirely different things, and while he never explained exactly why he’d started being more around after his own father’s destruction, they all had their suspicions.

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfiction #toapril #toapril 2024 #pjo apollo #cabin seven #will solace #austin lake #kayla knowles #toa yan #toa jerry #toa gracie #tsari writes fanfiction

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tsarinatorment · 2 years

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Cabin Seven Headcanons

Apollo kids are scared of snakes

Snakes are the first monsters that come for Apollo kids

Cabin seven is cabin six’s first port of call for spider eviction (and cabin six take point on snake eviction in turn)

There used to be a head counsellor nook with a desk etc. in the cabin until Lee converted it into more instrument storage (head counsellors now just have to make do with their bunk space)

The Curse of Delos around the cabin is a marker and a warning - this is sacred ground and everyone within it is under Apollo’s protection (the cabin is, technically, a temple to the god)

Apollo kids are heavy sleepers and not much will wake them up if it’s not dawn yet (unless they’re on a quest)

While not all Apollo kids are morning people, but they do have a natural tendency to be up with the sun (the mortal parents despaired at the active babies the moment dawn broke every morning)

Apollo kids are more powerful in sunlight; the infirmary has a retractable roof in order to let in maximum light while they’re healing

Cabin seven has skylight windows as well as the regular ones

The curtains in cabin seven are blackout curtains to keep the light shut out (they’re normally left open at night, but closed when they want to sleep during the day e.g. they’ve been up all night healing, or when they want to do some instrument recording)

The cabin is only silent at night when they’re all at sleep; otherwise there’s always some sort of noise going on, whether it’s instruments or talking

Apollo kids are except from harpy-munching if they’re out after curfew because the reason is probably a medical emergency

Bows are supposed to be kept in the armoury but they keep ‘accidentally’ ending up in the cabin when Chiron’s not looking

Apollo kids are always claimed as soon as they arrive at camp, even before Percy made the gods swear; no Apollo kid has ever spent the night in cabin eleven (unclaimed, at least)

Satyrs are particularly terrified of escorting Apollo kids to camp because they’re worried about what Apollo would do if his kid got hurt or worse under their watch (Apollo kids have a very high success rate of getting to camp alive)

The only domain all Apollo kids inherit without exception is healing; not all of them are powerful healers but it manifests somehow in all of them

Apollo kids are fine with brighter lights than most people

It’s not a ritual for them to wave at the sun when it passes, but most of them like to anyway even though they can’t see Apollo in the chariot (they know he’s waving back at them, though)

Apollo is a generally well-liked parent and the cabin trusts him

Not a single Apollo kid joined Kronos’ side in the war

Apollo drops in on their dreams approximately once a week. It’s an open secret because they know other gods aren’t that active (especially after TOA, when they have a better idea that Apollo isn’t supposed to be interacting with them quite so much)

Apollo kids are both Greek and Roman because Apollo doesn’t change between the two and therefore could attend either camp but the vast majority end up at CHB because Apollo’s the patron of the camp and directs them there instead

Apollo kids are all fluent in both Latin and Ancient Greek (but not Italian, and their attempts to garble Latin to make sense in Italian usually fail miserably)

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toasecretsanta · 1 year

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[ @literallyjusttoa]’s match was @alyosita. My prompt was: “Representing cabin 4, meg retells her limited knowledge on apollo’s myths through pictionary and does her best not to offend any other Olympian.” The rating is general, and there’s no content warnings.

Meg cleared her throat, looking over the jumbled group of demigods sitting around the fire. Most people looked bored, though Sherman Yang seemed as eager as he would be on the battlefield. Meg guessed he was just eager for some sweet, sweet revenge.

This whole thing was useless, honestly. It had been months since her quests with Apollo had ended, and she had spent most of that time at Aeithales. Lu had insisted that visiting Camp Half-Blood would be good for her. Connect with your siblings, she said, Talk with other campers, spend some time in those monster infested woods! It all sounded fine and dandy until good old crotch-kicked Sherman Yang decided to question if Meg “really knew the god Apollo” like he hadn’t seen them together less than a year ago. Half of the younger campers bought his bullshit, so now Meg was up in front of the entire camp defending her honor. By playing pictionary.

She should have just stayed in the monster infested woods.

“Are you ready to start?” Malcolm Pace asked. He had made all the prompts, and Apollo’s kids were going to serve as her judges. Well, Apollo’s middle children at least. Kayla, Jerry, and Gracie were all itching for a chance to cause chaos, so they were more than willing to join this scheme. Traitors, the lot of them. Still, Meg sighed and nodded her head. She had bet her cabin’s honor on winning this game, so she kind of had to see it through.

“Ok, your first prompt is … Delos.”

Alright, simple enough. Meg was almost insulted that Malcolm thought she might not know this. She turned to the board and …

Ok, so there was one issue with this whole thing, which is that Meg absolutely could not draw. She was going to be working with stick figures here. She drew out three characters, making two smaller to emphasize the fact that they were babies. Then she started drawing the accessories she knew Apollo was born with. Apollo had shown her his cool glowing sword about a month ago, so she knew her depiction was striking and perfect. She made sure to add his fancy headband too. She stepped back to examine her work, then froze. She had one lavishly decorated stick figure, and two completely plain ones. Shit.

Now, if there’s anything that Meg had learned from a childhood with and emperor and six months of questing, it was that you shouldn’t diss the gods for no reason, and there was no way Meg was losing a limb or anything extreme because of a stupid pictionary game. She racked her brain for anyway to make Artemis or Leto more distinct. Leto was simple, since Apollo seriously loved his mom and had mentioned many things about her before. She always wore a veil, so Meg drew something that … vaguely looked like that? Apollo also mentioned that his mother bred and kept fowl, like roosters and pheasants, so Meg made an attempt at drawing a bird. She ended up using the tried and true “trace your hand to make a turkey” method, ignoring the fact that this made her birds about the same size as all of her stick figures. Maybe Leto owned giant chickens, how was she to know?

Artemis, as far as Meg was aware, didn’t get any fancy golden gifts like Apollo did when she was born, which seemed a bit unfair. She drew a moon on her forehead, and gave her a super big bow. Hopefully that wasn’t offensive.

To finish the whole thing off, she scribbled some daisies at the bottom of the whiteboard, because the flowers were important. She turned to the table of judges and waited for their judgment. “It’s … um,” Jerry squinted his eyes, “Is that supposed to be dad?”

“That’s Leto!” Gracie exclaimed, pointing at the Leto stick figure. “Dad told me his mom has these biiiig chickens. Like, double my size!”

“Is that a chicken, or a turkey?” Kayla asked, a shit eating grin on her face “Because if it’s a turkey, I don’t know if we can count it …”

“It’s a bird.” Meg said. “I drew you a bird.”

The three turned away, whispering among themselves and glancing at Meg’s drawing like it was crime scene evidence. Eventually, Kayla turned back to the group.

“We have decided the picture is adequate.” She said, causing the group of demigods by the campfire to start up a halfhearted round of applause. Meg saw Miranda Gardener give her two thumbs up from her spot near the back.

And so, the Pictionary continued. Meg struggled her way through a depiction of Apollo’s part in the Iliad (All she knew was that he killed Achilles, anything beyond that was lost on her) Made what was probably a slightly offensive drawing of a baby Hermes stealing the red cattle, and spent about 30 minutes making an exact replica of Apollo’s sun chariot.

“It’s … surprisingly accurate?” Kayla said.

“There’s no way!” Sherman yelled from the audience, which was totally rude. “She has to have gotten something wrong!”

Meg had not, in fact, gotten anything wrong. Apollo picked her up on the weekends for, and Meg was quoting here, “Post-quest hangout extravaganzas”. He made sure the chariot was in its original form for the “Authentic experience”

Meg had long since accepted that her dummy was a complete nerd. At least it was helping her win Pictionary.

“All right, all right everyone calm down!” Malcom said, as Miranda put her hand over Sherman’s mouth to stop his complaining. Served him right. Meg though he was lucky he was dealing with Cabin 4’s most non-violent member.

“Meg, your last prompt is … Admetus.”

Meg grinned. She had this one in the bag. First, a drawing of Admetus himself. She made sure to make him appropriately dreamy, because that’s the main word Apollo used to describe him. Next, the cattle. (Meg couldn’t draw cows like she did horses, but she thought they weren’t that bad.)

Then, she drew Apollo for the fifth time that night. Since he was mortal, she just drew him as Lester, which made Kayla snicker behind her. Finally, she drew the grass. The plants hadn’t been important since the first picture, but Meg always drew them. Sue her, she was representing the Demeter cabin.

Still, as she stepped back to look over her work, Meg felt like something was missing. Maybe it was because Apollo being mortal was the part of his mythology she was most used to. She hemmed and hawed for a bit, before it hit her, and she rushed to finish her magnum opus.

Before, Meg had focused on keeping her drawing of the gods as non-offensive as possible. After all, you should never piss off Olympians for no reason. This man, however, was the clear exception. Meg drew frowny faces around him, giving him devil horns and evil eyes. She even added some extra Olympians around him to look on in horror. She brandished her expo marker like sword, drawing some wooshing lines to show heavy winds before backing off and letting all of the campers present see her wonderful picture of the myth of Admetus, complete with a villainous Zeus in the top right corner.

There was silence. Malcolm looked at the piece with horror in his eyes. Even stupid Sherman had been left speechless. Then, a voice.

"I love it.” Gracie said, her face alight with glee. She raised both hands and started clapping as loud as possible. Which, since she was a child of Apollo, was very, very loud.

Slowly, Kayla and Jerry joined. This led to Miranda joining the applause, followed by Billie, then the Hermes kids, until basically everyone other than Sherman was cheering and hollering with joy. The campfire burned high and bright, turning colors Meg had never seen from it before. She laughed, taking a silly little bow as Malcolm walked over.

“Good job.” He said, leaning down to speak quietly. “But, uh, do you think you can erase this before Chiron sees it?”

Meg froze. “You mean he doesn’t know?” The doors to the Big House slammed open, and the campfire immediately dimmed to near nothing. Meg turned back to her devilish drawing of Zeus, and gulped.

She really should have just stuck to the woods.

#toasecretsanta #literallyjusttoa #alyosita #meg mccaffrey #sherman yang #malcolm pace #kayla knowles #toa gracie #toa jerry #miranda gardiner #trials of apollo #toa #riordanverse #trials of apollo fanfic #toa fanfic #riordanverse fanfic

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