#and lee fletcher fell for it every time

[thestarstoasun]

This entire fluff of Will being an adorable child was written as emotional compensation (mainly) for @actual-gremlin. Anyone else can take it as emotional compensation for my normal posts though!

Quick Note: Because timelines are actual torture this is at least a year before The Lightning Thief, mainly bc for the sake of plot I needed Luke to not be entirely evil & he really turns after his own quest/when Percy arrives/is claimed.

When Will was younger, he found a tabby cat in the woods near camp while following Connor to find flowers for their older sisters. The cat was missing half of her tail, but was surprisingly affectionate towards them. Will fell in love immediately, and while he wasn't a vet, his vitalkinesis told him that more than just her tail was injured. She was malnourished and dehydrated with a sprain in her front paw.

"Do you think your siblings will let you keep her? Do you even plan on keeping her?" Connor asked with his arms full of flowers.

"It really depends on what she wants. Poor angel. I would like her, but I wanna make sure she's okay first." Will's small arms held the cat and he pet the underside of her jaw, grinning when she started to purr.

"I didn't even know you liked cats. How could you hide this from me?"

"Ma used to take me to the pet shelters before she would play her concerts at night when touring. And I didn't hide anything. You're just a bad friend for never asking. Hmph."

"Wha? Hey!" The two boys laughed as they approached the Big House. Will's face grew determined seeing as his biggest challenge would be inside.

"Good luck, soldier. If they don't let you keep her, I'll sneak her into Hermes for you. Luke wants us family to be happy, so I can figure something out." Connor did his best to move the flowers around so he could give a salute.

"I lied earlier. You're a great friend...when you aren't playing the pranks of the century." Will nodded his head, took a deep breath, and walked inside the chamber.

---

Will was happy to note that the infirmary was mostly empty save for, surprisingly, Luke and Lee. What was even stranger though was Luke wasn't in a cot. He was sitting on top of Lee's desk, something that Will had be reprimanded for several times.

"Why doesn't Luke get scolded for sitting on your desk?" Will pouted walking towards his big brother and the Hermes counselor.

Both of the older boys jumped, but Lee just looked over at Will and smiled kindly. "He already was. You know how Hermes kids are."

Luke turned his body around to face Will as well with a mischievous grin. "Lee has tried to kick me off of the desk several times, but I outsmarted him."

Lee's face flushed, but Will completely missed the interaction between them, looking at Luke with amazement. "You managed to outsmart Lee!? But he's smart, but also a little dumb-"

"Hey!"

"-so I can also understand."

"William. Why is there a cat in your arms?" Lee asked, out of curiosity and to redirect the conversation away from his dating life. Will was, perhaps, his only sibling who remained mostly spared from growing up too fast, and Lee was determined to keep it that was for just a little longer. Romance just went over his head, which was the innocence a child should have.

"Oh yeah! I found her when Connor and I were...-" Will pursed his lips and thought about how to say they snuck into the woods without getting into trouble. He had never met their dad, Apollo, so Lee was really the closest to one he felt like he had. And Lee had perfected the disappointed parent look- Will blamed Michael for that. "...taking a stroll through some trees to look for flowers and I found her! She's injured and I wanna help her."

Will was determined to at least be able to nurse the cat back to health, even if Lee wouldn't let him keep her. His arms were wrapped protectively around the cat and she relaxed onto Will's shoulder.

"A stroll through some trees?" Lee raised his eyebrow as if he was questioning whether or not to let the deceit go. Apparently, Will was very lucky, because his big brother just sighed. "You know we aren't vets. How can you be sure you can help her? How do you know its a her?"

"I'm a healer." Will said it with so much pride that Lee couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "And vitalkinesis, dummy."

"Michael is such a bad influence on you. He's got you insulting me in my own infirmary."

"Isn't he also the only one of your siblings, other than this one - but he's gotta only be a fourth of a person -("Hey!") who can get your stubborn ass to take a break?" Luke spoke up with an amused smirk.

"Language. There is a small and impressionable child here."

"Mikey says bad words all the time," Will spoke up, looking between the two counselors extremely confused.

"I'll have a talk with him about it. If you want to try to help the cat.." Lee noticed Will's puppy dog eyes and let out a swear of his own in Ancient Greek. "You can try to help her, but we don't have any cat food so you'll have to see if she'll eat tuna. And we aren't keeping her." Will nodded along with a small pout.

Instead of giving confirmation, Will walked to a cot and set the cat down before humming a soft healing hymn.

"We're gonna end up with a cat, aren't we?"

"You guys most definitely are. That kid has you wrapped around his fingers."

"It's the eyes! You'd think he was an Aphrodite kid, but he just pulls the puppy dog eyes and I give in."

"Lee, that's just you being a sucker."

"I'm just a better brother than you. All of the poor, sweet children that have their ears tainted by the horrors spoken of in the Hermes cabin tell me so."

"I'm going to go tell Castor and Pollux to start awful rumors about you. Overdramatic, absolute pushover, workaho-ouch!"

"Don't be mean. I'm going to go help Will. If you would be so kind, could you possibly sneak Cabin 7 some stuff for our new cat? I really don't think I'm getting out of this one."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck with being 'Cabin Mom'. I have my own rats to gather up soon; Connor and Travis should probably be first."

Will had healed the sprain and gotten the cat water and a can of tuna which she was currently happily drinking and eating away at. He sat in a chair by the bed watching her with a wide grin. Seeing her eating made him really happy and when she would look up, he reassured her with a "It's fine. There is plenty." before she went back to eating.

Lee ruffled Will's hair when he made it over. "Things going good, Sunshine?"

"Mmmmhm! She likes tuna, I think. Or maybe just really hungry."

"We can try a few things coming up to see what she likes. Overeating can also make her sick. Sometimes cats, and people, do it when they're malnourished for so long and have, for instance, they're favorite food for the first time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's why when you say you're not hungry, I always say eat two bites and you don't have to eat anymore if you still don't want any."

"That makes sense! Its much nicer than back in Texas when I would stay with my Granma and Gramps. They had dumb rules." His nose scrunched up as he recalled the nights he just really didn't feel good, the very few times he got sick, and was forced to sit at the table for hours.

"Those rules are the worst." Lee agreed and pulled his little brother in for a hug. "There are some rules that are good though."

"Like what?"

"Rules you have to follow for us to take in your new friend."

Will's eyes sparkled with excitement as he listened to the rules carefully, curls bouncing as he nodded along. The small lecture ended in a sacred oath, even more sacred than a promise on the Styx, a pinkie promise.

Bear, as Will had named her - though no one knew why since she didn't look much like one, grew healthier each week. She gained more weight, especially when she realized she could get extra treats by going to multiple Cabin 7 kids. Her fur grew fluffier (giving her a bath had been Michael's job - the punishment for swearing around children.) which Will absolutely loved, because she cuddled with him at night.

She had almost gotten herself caught multiple times because she tried to follow Will out of the Cabin. (Lee was going to get gray hairs by the time he turned 20, though he'd be ancient then. He was sure of it.)

By the time Chiron did find out about Bear, Lee had gotten the other head counselors on his side if this came to a debate. Luckily, many of them liked Will and seeing him being a kid with a cat probably helped sway the tides, or maybe some God was looking out for them. Either way, Chiron agreed to let her stay since they had clearly taken care of her this long.

Will went to sleep that night holding Bear a little closer, while she simply curled up to the boy. In a few years, he would lose so much, and she would stay through some of the hardest moments in his life, but right now he was just a boy with his big siblings and their cat.

[iamrizaka]

Apollo cabin is know for its archers, musicians and healers.

Every kid gets claimed within three days. No one is born during summer. Apollo meets his mortal lovers during summer, and their kids are born max in May.

Being a healer means you sing an anthem for your father and use your energy. You almost never miss.

Lee Fletcher was the best archer and could shoot ten arrows at once, never missing the target. He could play piano, guitar and violin. He was known for being one of the most caring people in the Camp. He looked a lot like Apollo, with blond curls and green eyes.

Michael Yew was different. Along with Lee, he was also the best archer, having to compete with the former multiple times. Unlike Lee, he could play only one instrument, but he still held the title of being the head of infirmary. He was hot-headed, but still kind.

Will Solace is Apollo's every gift and every fear. Will can't use a bow to save a life and has a voice of a dying seagull. He gets easily annoyed, he spent too much time with Hermes cabin and the Stolls and Luke, and is convinced that he would be a bad counselor.

He fights with a sword, with a knife and with his fists and everything in him. He fights fiercely, looking at the opponent with a smirk and Python-like look in his eyes. He definitely feels himself like one, when he knows he's won.

He looks a lot like Apollo, so it was easy to understand why Lee always watched over him. Watching Luke look out for the boy was okay, too, since Will was in his cabin for a long time and also the youngest camper at that time. But when Clarisse decided that yeah, she likes this guy, the Camp fell into a panic mode.

Will was claimed a year later after his arrival, so people were of course confused on what took Apollo so long. In the end, Cabin 7 was happy for their new little brother.

Unlike his many siblings, his birthday was on the last day of summer.

He excelled in medicine, being the best healer in three hundred years on Chiron's memory. The healers were rare, but the ones who could heal without their parent's help was unheard of.

He also, as it turned out much, much later, has a power to glow and to cause plagues of various types. Another interesting thing - he was causing plagues way before he was healing anyone.

[a-french-coconut]

Part 3

He attacks every monster he crosses path with.

It's funny to surprise them, their eyes widening because they are not used to being the prey. Chasing them is exhilarating, feeling their fear when they understand they are the one in danger.

Each one trigger a little more of his memory.

He's a demigod, son of Apollo.

He's the son of a fucking god who can't be bothered in actually checking on him to see if he's okay.

Whatever, he did fine without the guy and does not need his help.

His name is still unknown but others are swirling in his mind.

Lee Fletcher, the blond guy who got killed by a giant.

Will Solace, the smaller blond guy who wanted him to teach him healing.

Kayla Knowles, they did archery together.

Clarisse La Rue, the one he told to eat his quiver and something about a flying chariot.

Other people appear sometimes, two identical brothers, a dark haired guy swirling a pen in his hand often accompanied by a blonde girl. Those he can't put names on their faces but he knows they have been a part of his ancient life.

Everything is still foggy but sometimes it appears with painful clarity.

The water surface getting closer and closer because he fell off a bridge.

A lyre above his head and a centaur kneeling in front of him.

A dragon in the woods, arrows embedded in its skin.

So much memories, all in disorder, but it's a start.

He swiftly dodges the talons trying to tear him apart. This time he's the one who's got attacked by that weird donkey girl. He hadn't expected crossing a monster during his short stroll in the city, which in retrospective was a dumb thought, and she was fast.

A hit sends him flying against a wall, he groans when he feels his ribs are broken. Thanks to his dad, the only thing good about him, he heals faster than mortals. It's also the only reason they found him still alive two years ago. But it's not fast enough to restore his bones before the monster kill him.

He can't die again.

He's got a whole life to discover.

He can't die

But she's on him, claws suffocating him and teeth draining his blood.

"Get the fuck off me !"

He tries to kick her, scratch her, even bite her but the blood loss and the pain from the broken ribs are getting him.

Black spots cover his vision.

His attacks get weaker and weaker.

An arrow pierces the monster's neck, he's dropped on the ground.

He's against the street's wall.

A figure approaches him and he can dimly figure out the shape of a tall guy.

Tall guy kneels in front of him and lift his face.

They both freeze.

Golden curls and blue eyes. A bright smile on a small child, excited about learning.

"Michael ?", whispers Will Solace in incredulity.

Michael

His name opens the gates and he remembers everything.

The Battle of the Labyrinth, his brother's death.

Luke Castellan waging war on the gods, on him and his younger siblings.

Younger siblings he abandoned in the aftermath of war.

Did they even win ? He guesses so.

Will is still alive. What about Kayla and Austin ? Travis, Connor, Percy, Annabeth, Silena ?

Did they all make it out alive ?

"Will I'm-"

"Save your breath you're injured. I'm taking you back to Camp. Don't you dare die now Michael !"

Will scoops him up with embarrassing ease and he allows himself to pass out.

He is in goods hand after all, he trained them.

part 4 posted !

[tsarisfanfiction]

#3 (Sing A Song of Seven)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Gen Genre: Angst Characters: Michael Yew, Lee Fletcher, Apollo A series of Cabin Seven oneshots.  This time: Funeral lament. This, apparently, is what happens when I listen to the same song on repeat, especially when one of the singers manages to completely evoke Michael when I hear him in it... (Omar Cardona, specifically his acapella singing alongside VoicePlay in The Dragonborn Comes, for the curious). It was only ever a matter of time before I started bringing some angst into this series... The song lyrics used in this are the only Ancient Greek lament I could find words to - Song of Seikilos. Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<#2

It was a song every child of Apollo knew, and the song they always hoped they would never have to perform.  Cabin seven had duties, responsibilities that most of the time didn’t feel too heavy, but sometimes felt like the sky crushing them beneath its inescapable weight.  Their job was to be the camp’s light, to perform and amaze, to heal, and often they loved it.

But sometimes it hurt.

Traditionally, it was the responsibility of the head counsellor.  Lee had sung the lament for camp more than once – quests had dried up years ago, but there were still funerals, still new campers that didn’t make it despite the healers’ best efforts, and there was always at least one every year.

Lee was a musician, a flautist first and singer second but with a voice befitting a child of Apollo regardless.

Had been a musician.

Who was supposed to sing the lament when it was their head counsellor wrapped in a golden shroud?

Michael’s throat was tight, a lump lodged in it that had materialised at the sight of crimson-streaked dark blond and hadn’t abated since.  Officially, they didn’t have a head counsellor right then, too soon to even think about naming a successor, but Lee had been prodding him since the start of the summer, reminding him that it was only another year until he was off to college, and Michael knew – the whole cabin knew, if not the camp – that he was next.

In the absence of an official head counsellor, the lament could fall to any of them – the one with the best voice, the one who could hold themselves together in the face of insurmountable grief long enough to perform.  They all knew Joy fit the requirements the best, the best singer in the cabin, and she’d even stepped up during the preparations, gesturing to herself with a face of fragile determination – but her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and Michael knew he couldn’t say yes, couldn’t do that to her.

Traditionally, it was the responsibility of the head counsellor.  Michael wasn’t the official leader just yet, and he had never taken the limelight at campfire singalongs, not the greatest fan of singing where he could be heard despite the fact that he, too, was a son of Apollo and had a voice to match, but his siblings were crushed enough by the sudden, brutal loss of Lee (and the other deaths, yes, but it was Lee in his mind, in their minds, the brother that had always been there and whose sudden absence seared like a the first echoes of a phantom limb).  He couldn’t shy away from this, push the shattering, grief-ridden, responsibility on the cabin that was now his to lead, to protect.

The son of Hades led the proceedings, dressed all in black and too young, but they were all too young.  Grieving head counsellors gave short words about their fallen siblings; Michael didn’t even know what he managed to say about Lee, before Pollux fell apart trying to talk about his slain twin and the shrouds were set to torch.

No eyes were on Michael as he stepped forwards, away from the security and comfort of his siblings and into the responsibility that was the head counsellor of cabin seven’s – his, now, and it felt wrong stepping onto the same patch of bare earth he’d watched Lee take so many times, and Emily before him, but also it was for Lee, and Michael would never forgive himself if he faltered now.

No-one ever looked at the singer at a funeral.  All eyes were drawn to the flames, rising higher and higher as the pyres burned, watching the final moments of bodies whose souls were long gone to Hades’ realm.

Michael knew the song.  He knew the words he’d hoped to never sing, and drew in a deep breath, feeling it waver, before the words began to spill out.

Hóson zêis, phaínou Mēdèn hólōs sỳ lypoû

His voice threatened to crack, the tell-tale feeling of a break starting in the back of his throat right where the lump held fast as tears welled, determined to overflow.  This was for Lee, for the first sibling he’d grown close to, for the first person that wormed his way past the terrified prickly shell of an abused child and slowly coaxed Michael into learning to trust in family again.

The break didn’t come, his voice strengthening when it should have – would have – faltered.  Warmth spread across him, invisible but impossible to miss, and the feel of a weightless hand covered his shoulder.

The tears spilled down his cheek, even as his voice held steady, imbued with a strength that wasn’t his.

Pros oligon esti to zēn To telos ho chronos apaitei

It was a short lament, too short to only sing the once when there were several dead and grief prevailed across the sobbing campers.  He let the last strains of the final word fade away into silence before starting it again, letting the warmth carry his voice, keeping it strong and stable even as Michael himself felt like he was falling apart.

Hóson zêis, phaínou Mēdèn hólōs sỳ lypoû

Slowly, as surreptitiously as he could manage – for how little it mattered when no-one had eyes for him, when the burning pyres drew every eye, including his own, with no remorse – his own hand crept up to the epicentre of warmth on his shoulder.  It only met air, falling down on his own camp t-shirt with nothing in the way, but he’d expected that, even as it shifted until it felt like his hand, too, was being enveloped by the weightless, invisible, not-really-there one.

Pros oligon esti to zēn To telos ho chronos apaitei

Once the funeral was over, once the pyres burned to ash and nothing was left of the bodies and shrouds borne upon them, when Michael’s throat rasped from the words and tears for all that his voice kept going, his siblings would join him and all eyes would be upon them as the lament faded and songs of joy and celebration, uplifting sounds to counter the grief took their place.

Michael couldn’t spare his siblings that – it was a cabin-wide responsibility, for all that he didn’t know how they were supposed to sing of joy when their hearts had been torn in two – but at least, this time, he’d spared any of them this moment, standing alone and small against the onslaught of grief, both the camp’s and his own, fierce choking emotion.

Well, not quite alone.  Michael’s hand flexed where it was encased by the comforting, supporting warmth of the sun, and stood a little straighter, head a little further back, as he repeated the lament once again.

#4>>

[mooncleaver]

it is my greatest honor, loving you

ღ  life may not be eternal, but your love for him surely is

ღ  pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

ღ  warnings: very much angst, unrequited love obviously, major character death, graphic descriptions of wounds/blood

now playing ⇝ cardigan by taylor swift

my masterlist ♡

"why are you so reckless? you could've hurt yourself out there!" his voice sounded hoarse and tired, as if grains of sand ran through his throat as he attempted to calmly reprimand you. huh, that was ironic coming from percy. coming from a boy who'd sacrifice his own self for the sake of saving the people he loved.

now one might wonder how exactly you got into this situation, barely holding up while you clutched yourself, staring at the boy you came to love, arguing with him.

the battle of the labyrinth had been a tough and devastating one, annihilating a large number of demigods in the camp. it seemed that no one left the battle unscarred, whether physically or mentally.

perhaps one of the biggest losses was dionysus' son, castor, your fellow campmate. he was your friend,—a kind and fiercely loving one—often laughing and joking around together with him and pollux in the pavilion whenever you got the chance to. the earth had cried for him the moment he fell limp to the ground, soul whisked away in the arms of thanatos while the wine god's rage casted a mass of serpentine vines where he lay, the oblique, verdant greeneries prodding at his cold figure.

there were too many precious souls who were lost—among them being the ever-bright lee fletcher, who's light died when a giant brought his cruel demise—and the list only seemed to get longer the more you thought about it. you too, would be lining up for judgment soon enough, you predicted.

it was all too fast for you to fully remember, but one moment you were fighting off a giant and the next you had thrown yourself at a demigod from kronos' army intending to hurt an unaware percy. suddenly you were gripped so tightly on the shoulders, eyes widening with a quivering gasp while you looked down, only to see scarlet liquor leaking out of an obtrusive hole in your stomach, the twisted grin of your enemy patronizing your defenseless figure as you staggered back and clutched the liquid that flowed relentlessly. maybe if they didn't shuck it out as fast as it came in, maybe you would've lasted a lot longer. all you could do was choke out an amalgamation of incoherent sounds, knotting the flannel outer you wore around your midriff; the coil only flared the excruciating agony you were in.

you heard him crying out for you somewhere in the middle of it all, rough-hewn and distinctive among the clashing ores and shouts of rage and defeat. your stubborn head proved itself defiant when you'd ignored his pleas, his voice already fading away as he was dragged into another fight in the chaos. percy didn't see the folk puncturing you, only the aftermath when you stumbled back, your aghast reaction unmistakable to him. and maybe it was a good thing that he didn't know the severity of your condition. that only meant that he would bear much less of a burden than what he was already dealing with.

as dumb as it was, you kept fighting even after being heavily injured. your stab wound wasn't that bad, was it? if you could still stand—barely, that is—then you could still fight. the ringing in your ears only grew worse as adrenaline slowly numbed the pain, your vision turning into dizzy kaleidoscopes with every movement of your weapon.

you hoped your effort contributed something in the battle. somewhere in your mind you knew you'd end up at death's door sooner or later; there was no way you'd reach help in time before the immense blood loss took you away. but if there was one thing you knew, you wanted to be a hero before you died. you wanted to be able to leave a legacy behind, imagining an echoing battle cry before you fell with your dear sword beside you, or to die by protecting someone else so they could live a life fuller than yours. and you wanted to love someone completely, love someone so much that it leaves a searing inferno in your heart, to have a love that makes you go mad, a love that makes you feel alive. even if the one person you gave yourself to didn't want you.

it was something you'd never regret: being percy jackson's friend; loving him along the way, too. it has been your greatest adventure and your greatest honor to know him in this life, from the moment you stumbled upon his lonely figure near the muted docks of the traversing lake to the second you knew you cared for him in a way that transcended your own being. it was one of the most shattering experiences in your life: finding out that he didn't feel the same way about you. that intimate moment when he confessed his feelings about someone else right in front of your eyes; that would haunt you forever. if you could, you would erase that recollection from the depths of your mind, but you cared for him too much to forget that rare vulnerability shared between the two of you. you don't even think you have the will to erase any memory of percy jackson.

you'd cried yourself to sleep that night, wishing that it was all a dream when you woke up the next dawn. but fate has a funny way of working. each passing of her name on his lips chipped your heart away bit by bit, till it turned into a dilapidated mess that barely resembled what it looked like when the youth of discovering your first love coursed through its veins.

but no matter how much heartbreak hurt, loving someone is never a waste.

the two of you would never happen, no, not in a million years you thought. he had already given his heart away to someone else a long time ago, someone who you knew couldn't accept his love right now. it was just agonizing too see the way he would continue to pine after her and end up in the dust when reality came crushing in. still, he never gave up on her. because you simply don't give up on love.

that undying loyalty of his—the one you grew to despise and admire at the same time. you watched the way he chose her over you. every, single, time.

you understood it to a certain degree; you can't choose who you fall in love with. but that didn't make it hurt any less. so here you were now, left with a barren heart while you helped him pick up the pieces of his own.

percy's cry broke you out of your miserable thoughts, befuddled at how you were so accepting of your predicament. of course he would be. he didn't know you did it for him. "σκατά, y/n, you can't just- you can't risk your life for someone else!"

"but i did it for you." the silence became a little too loud, ringing in your ears like a haunted pendulum.

"what?" was his breathless response. his jaw was slowly opening, moving without a sound as if he didn't know what to say. you saw the way his brows scrunched up together, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched.

you repeated it again. "i did it for you."

your face looked soulless, blotches of crimson blooming in petalled coteries on the ivory ribbons wrapped around your body. you had a cut on the vermillion border of your lips, blood slowly seeping back out the more you talked. it was becoming more difficult to open your eyes. your body was screaming at you to lay down, aching with a heaviness in your bones that could not be salvaged. you just wanted to rest, but you wouldn't leave him hanging like that. even if the closure was a painful one, it would be cruel to leave percy without telling him the truth of your heart. at least, that's what you thought. if you were going to die, then you were going to take one last chance of happiness than conceal it and close your eyes with only the memory of sorrow long lasting.

it was almost pitiful, really, the way you were still willing to entertain him even in your detrimental state. your eyes were sunken in deep exhaustion, still laden with mist that glinted as it caught the effulgent flicker lighting up the back of a cabin you could not bother to recognize.

he raised his voice at first, utter confusion and frustration unfurling in his tone until it dimmed out to something much softer, like the barely contained hurt was still lingering. "why?!.. why me?" his timbre earned a softer edge to it, fading into a sotto voce and if you let your hopes get a little too high you might've thought there was a hint of care in it.

you knew if you tilted your gaze the slightest bit at his direction you'd cave into the look in his eyes. it was too easy, too easy for percy to worm his way into your heart no matter how much he hurt you.

..why him?

why not him. it was the easiest thing in the world to do anything for percy jackson. you didn't understand why it was so hard for him to acknowledge the fact that you would actually walk to the ends of the earth for him and retrieve the stars from the sky if he wished. it was him who taught you that love was just as fragile and destructive as it was wonderful and invaluable, him who helped you open your eyes to a world much beautiful than what you'd made of it. and that in itself was worth far more than any materialistic attainment you've ever received. was it because he was questioning his place in your heart? how much you cherished him?

anger and sadness were a dangerous pair, and the pain you felt turned into something that blazed the walls of your heart, burning a path through your line of thought until frustration marred each corner of your mind. why couldn't he understand what your heart was trying to say? was it not obvious the way you were so painfully enamored by him? how dare he question his worth to you?

they say the eyes are the windows to the soul, bearing the deepest and obscure feelings one could have.

if percy wanted to know and wanted to see what you felt so badly, then you would show him exactly that. you looked up to him, arms clenched around your midriff with eyes carrying the heaviest spectacle of sorrow and longing; eyes that bared the weight of a burden held far too long and at that moment he finally understood. understood the utter pain and hopelessness you had repressed, understood why you were so willing to give your own life for him.

"because i love you, goddamit! i love you.."

the tension was more than palpable after your passion-filled declaration. you saw the way he faltered, staggering back almost with the brunt of what you just said. his breaths grew ragged and his eyes moved wildly as if he was searching for any bit of a lie in you.

"take that back.. please we can't- i can't-"

and then finally the words you've dreaded were spoken out of his mouth. a defeated breathe was knocked out of you the second he finished that sentence, burning through your nostrils while it flared the fountain threatening to cascade from your heavy waterline. no amount of mental preparation could've supported you in this moment. you already knew what he was going to say, unfortunately. you saw it in the way he refused let go of her despite the tribulations he faced. it just hurt knowing that your heart thought if the uncertainty of tomorrow was looming above, there might have been hope somewhere in there.

"cant what, percy? accept the love someone has for you when the person you're chasing after so clearly does not give one shit about you!" for a moment you watched the pain morph onto his face, and you knew you'd hit a nerve when you said that. it felt wrong.. so wrong to hurt him, but your anger and desperation got the best of you this time.

"i love you so much that it hurts," you pointed at your chest, borderline hurting yourself as your fists bunched up and tugged on the bloodied orange shirt that sheathed your wounded skin. "it hurts to see you in pain, to see your heart breaking apart when i can't even do anything about it. and i would.. i would do anything for you, but you-.. you don't want me.. and that's okay!" you laughed humorlessly, the sound so harrowingly hollow that it almost made him flinch.

"i'm okay.." you whispered and it sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself that you were not already crumbling.

"but that will never stop making me care about you. that's what love does to a person, percy, and i cant just take it back.." you wiped away the defiant tears that managed to flow down the planes of your face, sniffing the waver in your voice away and trying to look strong so he wouldn't feel so guilty over something he couldn't control.

"no, i wont take it back. because for me.. for me it's enough to know that i've made a change in your life—big or small. i could never regret loving you, percy."

and for the first time percy jackson truly felt like a coward. a coward to walk away, a coward to leave you with a broken heart, only shattering it more when he stepped out of that damn balcony. he felt like a coward for pushing away the unimaginable.

he didn't know that a few minutes later you'd collapsed from excessive blood loss, clutching that untreated wound on your stomach in a last attempt to get to the infirmary. he didn't know that this would be the last words he would hear from you—words that were so incredibly impassioned and sincere. he didn't know the exhaustion the apollo kids felt the minute you were carried in,—battered, mangled and barely pulling through—knowing there was yet another valiant soul they could not save. he did not know that till your last tattered breath you'd thought of him, a serene smile soothing your face as you surrendered to the familiar arms of reclamation that cradled your weightless body while the light slowly faded away.

percy jackson didn't know many things that night. he didn't understand how something so important to one could be snatched away so easily like that, didn't understand why everything always happened the way fate planned it to be. but he knew he'd just lost the one constant love he's ever known; the one that was right in front of him the whole time, offering their heart on a silver platter only to be left decaying the moment you finally decided to choose your own happiness over the resolute of resignation.

FINALLY going back to my roots and writing unrequited love my beloved 🥰

imagine the disbelief and elation i was in when i found this in my wip files.. i don't know why i suddenly abandoned it??

σκατά : shit

[justonemorechapternicercy]

When Percy was still very young, he befriended 3 grandmas. The Fates helped Sally get rid of Gabe, told him about gods and future wars, and basically moved in with them. Since they cared for Percy a great deal, the Fates decided to grant him a boon; anyone who would be dating in future would be guaranteed to survive the upcoming wars. Cue to Percy ending up in Camp and trying to date as many campers as possible to ensure their survival. Only to accidentally fall in love with all of them.

It all started with Nico.

Well... It all started with him befriending three really weird grandmas, who looked like they could and would tear his eyes out of their sockets if he looked at them in a wrong way, but he decided he would rather be there with them on the sidewalk and learn how to knit socks than to be home where Gabe drunk and gambled away all of their money. But, to make the whole story easier, let's just go with that it all started with Nico.

Nico, the previously adorable and hyper little puppy, who just lost his sister because Percy didn't take the whole war seriously enough. Who wanted to run away because he lost everything, and because he hated Percy and the camp and their side eyed looks at his strange powers. So, Percy did the only logical thing he could do: he asked Nico to be his boyfriend.

Nico was his first one.

But not the last; not even close.

Michael Yew was his second. It happened once again, even after he swore he wouldn't let somebody's sibling to die, Lee Fletcher died. Logically, he knew the Apollo cabin's head's death wasn't because of him, he wasn't there to save him, but on the other hand, it really was his own fault. He knew, after all, that those he was is a relationship with, would survive the war.

So yes, Lee Fletcher's death was on him. Obviously, the next logical step was to ask Michael out.

It was kind of awkward at first. Him, being in a relationship with not one, but two people, both of them guys, but he didn't let himself to rethink his decisions. Not even when he started to collect boyfriends and girlfriends left and right, like other people collected stamps or postcards.

A Beckendorf here, an Ethan there, a Silena over there. It was weird, but when the other campers realized that first Beckendorf, then Iris, a daughter of Apollo, survived an obviously fatal accident, it was not a surprise anymore that Percy Jackson had a harem. (It didn't hurt that he was fucking delicious and an overall amazing person either.)

The problems started, when Percy fell for his partners. He could be in a relationship without being in love with the person, and the boon would still work on the person, but he was Percy Jackson, of course he would fall in love with each and every one of his partners.

How could he not?! The other demigods were amazing, and unique! Before he started to collect them, he wasn't big fan of socializing, he didn't even have time to get to know many of his fellow demigods. But after he started to asking out the others, he got into the habit of going out on a real date with the person he asked out, and since most of the dates turned out really great, he just... He started to spend a lot of time with them. In groups, in pairs, the whole camp together...

And he fell in love.

He loved Silena's gentle smile, Travis' sparking eyes, Michael's snarky comments. He adored Clarisse's buff arms, Jake's silly jokes, and Ethan's silent support. He could compose sonnets about Nico's cute little curls, Rachel's fiery temper and...

Well.

Luke's thick scar.

He loved all of them.

And that was what saved everybody. Kronos and his monsters had no chance to win when on the other side it was Percy Jackson and his overwhelming love towards even to those demigods who were on the opposing sides.

They were all his - and nobody could do anything about it.

[blackcat2907]

A Smoothie: A Camp Half-Blood Story

@lukecastellanshandholder @batgirlgeek @hiraganasakura @off-with-medusas-head @thedaydreamemperor

Sneeze. Okay, Luke did NOT need to be sick today. He was still a camp counselor and wouldn't be leaving until the end of summer. Two whole months laid ahead of him. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover had returned a few days ago. "ACHOO!" Luke jumped, startled by Connor sneezing. "Ow!" Travis yelled as a bow that suspiciously looked liked Chiron'a hit him in the head.

"Okay, why did you steal that?" Luke groaned, feeling a migraine coming on. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.

...He couldn't do this. Turns out, half the Hermes cabin was sick. Connor, Travis, and Chris would summon an item they stole every time they sneezed or coughed which meant room was rapidly running out. Clovis coughed and everyone was hit with severe drowsiness. Lou Ellen sneezed and a camper turned into a cat. Lovely.

"Everyone, stay calm. No one leaves this cabin until I get back, understood?" Luke did his best Camp Mom™ voice. Everyone agreed, most too tired to get out of bed. Luke stormed out of the cabin toward the Apollo cabin to either get Lee or Will. "HEY! OPEN UP!" he yelled, banging on the golden door, narrowing his eyes against the brightness.

"Luke, what do you want?" Lee Fletcher, Apollo cabin counselor, groaned, sounding terrible. He was stuffy, his eyes were red snd puffy, and he could coughed every few minutes.

"Half of my cabin is sick, and I came to get you or Will, but I can see you guys are sick as well?" Luke tilted his head, looking inside. All of the Apollo campers were horribly sick. Some were literally glowing, others made musical instruments play without touching them, and some only spoke in poetry or song. "Nevermind," he sighed. "I'll go check on the other cabins."

Turns out, most of the camp was sick. Just great. The campers who weren't sick were instructed to stay in the Big House. Luke was staying in the Big House. Clarisse, Percy, Nyssa, Malcolm, Miranda, Will, Annabeth, Castor and Drew were all in the Big House. Literally everyone else was sick. Chiron mentioned this sickness was one he hadn't seen in many, many years. It was a virus that only infect demigods (absolutely wonderful. Just perfect! Amazing!) and made their powers go haywire. (Ugh.)

The next few weeks were horrible. Walking around camp was like walking through a live minefield. However, Luke didn't care. He was a son of Hermes who thrived on a little danger. He and Percy were in the arena, sparring. Luke did feel bad. Percy was a good kid, but he stood in Luke's way and needed to be taken out.

"Thank you," Percy smiled, confusing Luke. "For not treating me any differently because I survived," the son of Poseidon clarified. "I don't like all the attention."

"No problem," Luke smiled with all teeth. "I'm glad you sur--ACHOO!" Luke sneezed.

"Gesundheit," Percy said before his eyes widened. "Luke...what do you have there?"

Luke looked down and cursed in Ancient Greek. (Percy was glad he didn't understand what Luke said.) "A Smoothie," Luke deadpanned, coughing again and a blue slushies from 7/11 appeared, dumping all over him and the master bolt currently in his hands. "Dam it," Luke groaned. Now he was caught red handed and sticky.

"You stole the master bolt?" Percy whispered, stepping back.

"I did?" Luke feigned innocence. "Percy, I am sick. My powers are going haywire. That's probably why it's in my hands," he bullshitted, hoping Percy would believe him.

"Okay..." Percy hesitantly replied. Luke sighed. "I should probably get this to Dionysus. Or you should. I must go quarantine with the others." He dropped the bolt. "And shower," he grumbled, shaking a glob of slushies off of his hand.

Luke sneezed again and more items fell tot be ground, a left shoe that belong to Hermes hitting Percy in the head. Next thing he knew, a mountain of left shoes fell on him. "How did you manage to steal all of this!?" Percy shouted at Luke who cackled.

"Let's just say I wanted child support and took something of his," Luke snickered, imagining how confused Hermes would be to see all of his left shoes missing...again. Now that was an adventure Luke would never forget. A year after his quest, Luke, being a petty bitch, stole all of Hermes' left shoes. He even blamed it on Apollo.

"YOU SON OF A--" Lee Fletcher screamed, aiming a bow at the Hermes kids, Luke stood to the side, confused. "What in Hades is going on!?"

"THEY STOLE THE PLUSHIES!" Lee snarled, eyes glowing with rage. "THEY TOOK ALL FIFTY PLUSHIES!"

"The cow ones?" Luke asked.

"YES THE COW ONES!" Lee shouted back.

"Well, simple, keep a better eye on them. I am going to sleep. Settle this yourselves." Luke shrugged, going into the showers before collapsing on his bunk. Maybe things would be better in the morning.

Things were not, and now the entire camp was sick. Luke hated his life.

Bonus scene: if Nico was at camp

Nico coughed and tons of chibi skeletons popped into existence, all following Nico would like lost ducklings. "Not a word," he glared at Will, who was covering his mouth to poorly hide his laughter.

[omaluv]

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. — 𝐥𝐭𝐲

PAIRING. — lee taeyong x gender neutral!reader

GENRE. — pure angst. you've been warned :')

WARNINGS. — mentions of intoxication, alcohol, and infidelity.

WORD COUNT. — 1k

it’s hard to let go of the person you love, especially when he’s the right person you met at the wrong time, but you have to—even though it hurts.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. — happy birthday bubu!! i'm sorry for writing depressing shit for your day but i really am not <//3 also, feedback would be greatly appreciated!!

「 listen to forever - stripped by fletcher 」

TAGLIST. — @hwiseungs @perhapsthanatos @fullsunfluff @ex0tic-vgh @bluejaem @mrkcore @softieyn @lovehyuckz-main @yangyangify <send an ask or dm to be added!>

the black and white spots in your vision don’t seem to vanish despite your countless attempts to blink them away. it’s a miracle you even made your way back home unscathed at this hour. although, you and your friends are very much well-acquainted with this scene. the typical party animals often portrayed on television don’t stray too far from the kind of crowd you’ve surrounded yourself with, much to the displeasure of your boyfriend, that is.

you open the front door of your shared apartment only to be met with a frown and knitted brows. suppressing the impending sigh of exasperation from leaving your lips, you make a move to walk past him and call it a night. the fatigue was finally settling in your bones, and you ached to just lay down. he, of course, doesn’t let you go that easily. how silly of you to think that this wasn’t going to end up much like every other night—in tears and frustration.

“where’ve you been, huh?” taeyong questioned with a slight bite to his tone. you stubbornly disregard his question, though, choosing instead to keep silent. your eyes fleet from object to object, yet never landing on the man right in front of you. “of course,” he tsks at your lack of a response, or any reaction for that matter, shaking his head. “i don’t even know why i bother with your irritating ass.”

there was a time when his remarks about your particularly wild lifestyle would rub you the wrong way, but not anymore. you’ve grown numb to the constant confrontation that awaits you at the end of the temporary bliss every night out brings. it makes you wonder how your once seemingly perfect relationship could’ve ended up this way.

“well, if i’m as irritating as you say i am, then just leave. i can assure you that there’s absolutely no one stopping you.”

his eyes visibly soften, shoulders dropping. “you know that’s not what i meant, y/n,” he says, almost in a whisper.

to say he was exhausted wouldn’t even begin to describe all the emotions bubbling up in his chest at this moment. he doesn’t know when you started to change; all he knows is that you did. he doesn’t blame you for it, though—he could never do that. it’s undeniable that he still feels for you, and deep down, he knows you do, too. perhaps, you two were simply not meant to last.

he doesn’t even try to stop you when you finally push past him and shakily climb the stairs, undoubtedly headed for the guest room again. he can’t help the bitter exhale that leaves him as he hears the sound of your footsteps slowly fade until it’s just a memory in his mind. seems familiar, doesn’t it?

taeyong was perfect in every sense of the word—well, to you at least. it’s no surprise that young, gullible y/n fell victim to his kind eyes and warm smile just like that.

but you aren’t young or gullible anymore.

you know that meeting him when you did was a coincidence that never should’ve happened. back then, you had absolutely no clue of what you really wanted in life, and neither did he. yet, for some unknown, cruel twist of fate, the universe allowed for you to cross paths.

soon after your relationship began, you realize that you wanted more. not from him, but from life. after all, there was nothing quite like the rush in your head after your nth shot of tequila or the giddiness that accompanied being in the middle of the dance floor. you lived for the thrill of nightlife, and commitment didn’t seem as appealing as it used to.

you were never unfaithful to taeyong—you could never do that to him. but it would be a lie to say that the thought has not once crossed your mind. you know that you’d never feel for anyone one else the same way you do for him. still, you can’t blame a person for wanting to live a little. being with taeyong meant stability—something some random stranger you met at a bar could never provide you with—but where’s the fun in that?

a lone tear that runs down the side of your face pulls you out of your thoughts. you wipe it away, knowing full well what you have to do. this ending was inevitable anyway.

waking from his slumber, taeyong blinks his eyes at the sunlight peeking through his curtains. he rubs the sleep from his eyes as his vision clears. your side of the bed remains unmade and cold as it has been for weeks now. he groans as he gets out of bed to check on you.

twisting the doorknob of the guest room, he’s met with an empty space and neatly made bed. he feels his heartbeat quicken, nervousness slowly creeping up to him. the panic only settles when he sees your belongings cleared from every corner of the room as if you were never even there to begin with. a note by your bedside table was the only thing left behind. with trembling hands, he reaches for the delicate piece of paper.

he takes a deep breath before laying his eyes upon your messy, rushed handwriting, a contrast to the usual neat one he’s been accustomed to. he releases a shaky breath upon reading the three brief sentences you’ve written down. tears well up in his eyes as the implications of your note finally dawn upon him.

this was it.

for all the times he’s lied to himself, saying everything will be okay, this was really it. and he knows there’s nothing he can do to change your mind anymore. you were both in two different places, and you understood that, accepted it even. it’s about time he did too.

“i love you, taeyong, truly. but i just don’t think we should be together for the time being. believe me when i say that i could love you forever, just as long as forever doesn’t start right now.”

— © omaluv 2021, all rights reserved.

[aion-rsa]

Best Serial Killer Movies of the ’90s Ranked

https://ift.tt/3tcsgCf

Someone must have left the freezer door in the morgue open, because grisly reminders of the past are thawing before our eyes. You can see it this weekend with the release of John Lee Hancock’s The Little Things, a throwback to the days when movie stars hung out at crime scenes instead of in spandex, and it’ll be more apparent next month with the launch of Clarice, a television spinoff of 1991’s The Silence of the Lambs. All the evidence points to only one conclusion: the serial killer thrillers of the ‘90s are back!

Not that we’re complaining. For a macabre minute or two, every Hollywood name appeared eager to play either the detective or the killer—the hunter or the obsessed, which often proved interchangeable for both characters. Granted that means there can be something formulaic about many of these movies. Yet they can also be bleak, hard-edged, and ambiguous. From our modern gaze, where the dominant studio conventions prefer reassuring morality tales and sunny lighting, these movies’ preference for shadows and discomfort in the mainstream is kind of startling.

So grab your magnifying glass and fortify your stomach, because we’re about to revisit some of the best (and worst) of ‘90s serial killer thrillers. (Also this list is strictly for the decade when the genre was at its height and it excludes slasher movies like Scream, which may feature serial killers but were not exactly adult-oriented thrillers.)

12. Eye of the Beholder (1999)

Eye of the Beholder is a tonal oddity that only passingly flirts with the conventions of ‘90s serial killer thrillers, all while it tries to pay homage to (read: rip-off) Alfred Hitchcock. But any credit it deserves for deviation—including making Ashley Judd’s central femme fatale the killer—it loses in execution. As a muddied, impenetrable tale about an intelligence officer (Ewan McGregor) who spies on and falls in love with a serial killer, Eye of the Beholder is a scattershot of bad ideas that run the gamut from ludicrous to misogynistic.

Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but this movie will close the lids over your pupils inside of 30 minutes.

11. Nightwatch (1997)

It feels a little mean to rag on Ewan McGregor back-to-back, but maybe serial killer movies just aren’t his genre? That could be at least one takeaway from an ill-advised double feature of Eye of the Beholder and Nightwatch, the latter of which is a remake of a 1994 Danish film that I’ve not seen… and probably won’t since both the original film and American remake are directed by the same man.

McGregor plays medical student Martin here, a kid who gets an after school job by becoming the night watch security at the local morgue. But as a series of grisly prostitute murders pile up, Martin realizes he needs to figure out who the killer is—that or continue to be framed by the necrophiliac fiend who keeps coming by the morgue for one last liaison. It’s exactly as skeevy as it sounds. Do yourself a favor and go your whole life without hearing Nick Nolte sing “This Old Man” while climbing onto a corpse.

10. Natural Born Killers (1994)

The movie that Quentin Tarantino disowned, Natural Born Killers is a seedy mess based on a Tarantino script that was heavily rewritten by Oliver Stone, David Veloz, and Richard Rutowski. The concept itself is a seemingly inevitable escalation of the “bad romance outlaws” archetype that’s been floating around Hollywood since at least 1950’s Gun Crazy, and which was then made iconic by Bonnie & Clyde (1967).

But whereas those films relied on bank robbers living fast, Natural Born Killers descends into a seeming final form with Mickey and Mallory (Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis) as giddy serial killers who are eventually out for maximum carnage. Technically the pair are supposed to be presented as victims of traumatic child abuse—and who are then wrongfully glorified by the media. But Stone’s sloppy and tanked vision lacks the discipline to achieve anything beyond its maliciousness. Early sequences imagining Mallory’s abusive childhood like it’s a television sitcom, and later psychedelic visions of Robert Downey Jr.’s opportunistic news reporter as the Devil, do little to divorce the film from its shallow self-satisfaction in close-ups of heads being shot.

The movie came under controversy in the years after its release for inspiring alleged copycat killers as well as school shooters. It feels irresponsible to blame media for actual violence, but it’s still quite an indictment that Stone’s attempt to criticize media glorification became a favorite for many a disturbed individual with a gun.

9. Kiss the Girls (1997)

When studying competent, middle of the road Hollywood thrillers, Kiss the Girls is a solid place to start. As a decently made bit of studio convention, the movie is anchored by strong elements like Morgan Freeman as James Paterson’s literary hero, Alex Cross, and Ashley Judd as Kate, the victim who survives a masked killer’s attempt to abduct her into his harem.

Moments like Kate’s escape sequence through the North Carolina wilderness are effectively filled with adrenaline, and Judd particularly gives the salacious piece conviction. However, it is salacious to a fault. Even if the movie toned down the source novel’s even more lurid misogyny, the film studies Kate and the other victims with a lascivious male gaze, blurring sex with violence, real world horror with leering entertainment. Right down to its title, the film can be rightly criticized as Hollywood glamourizing another story about violence against women. Whether that damns the whole movie depends on the viewer, but it certainly keeps it low on our list.

8. The Bone Collector (1999)

Marketed with a hell of a tagline about there being thousands of taxi cabs in New York City that’ll get you home—and one that won’t—The Bone Collector is almost comically slavish to the clichés of ‘90s moviemaking. The wrinkle here is that after a faux cab driver begins abducting his victims off the street, the crime psychologist who must stop him is entirely stuck by his bedside. Due to a tragic accident, Denzel Washington’s Lincoln Rhyme is paralyzed from the neck down. Yet he is still able to catch serial killers by communicating in the earpiece of police officer Amelia Donaghy (an entirely unconvincing Angelina Jolie).

Read more

Movies

Lost Girls Review: Netflix Takes on the Long Island Serial Killer

By Rosie Fletcher

Books

The Last Book on the Left Takes on the Grim History of Serial Killers

By Alec Bojalad

Together the pair stay one step behind the mystery killer’s tracks as he executes a series of increasingly gruesome and ridiculous murders. It’s preposterous, and in some ways a forerunner for Saw with the satisfaction it takes in absurd death traps, but Washington is effortlessly compelling, even when he never leaves his apartment. As a bit of absurd Hollywood fluff, right down to the ultimately lackluster unmasking of the killer, it can be entertaining, even if you’ll deny it afterward.

7. Copycat (1995)

More potent than I remembered, Copycat is a genuinely well-crafted Hollywood thriller that may not reinvent the wheel but takes it out for a damn good spin. In the driver’s seat is Sigourney Weaver as Dr. Helen Hudson, a criminal psychologist who is an expert on serial killers until one follows her into the bathroom after a guest lecture. He nearly hangs her from the ceiling. Following that white-knuckled opening, the film jumps years ahead and Helen has become agoraphobic and afraid to leave her home.

Yet when a local series of murders reveal the pattern of a predator imitating the methods of his favorite “celebrities”—one crime scene is like the Boston Strangler and another emulates the horrors of Jeffrey Dahmer—Helen is pulled out of retirement by a no-nonsense detective (Holly Hunter). The winning chemistry between Weaver and Hunter—who are refreshingly free from the studio-mandated romantic subplots in some of the other movies on this list—and the blunt force power of their performances aid this sincerely disquieting flick. A needlessly convoluted third act aside, the movie still works as a warning about the danger of fanboys a generation early.

6. Fallen (1998)

Denzel Washington appears again thanks to this clever supernatural spin on the serial killer genre. At the beginning of Fallen, Washington’s John Hobbes appears on top of the world. The serial killer he chased for years (Elias Koteas) is about to breathe deeply in the gas chamber. Yet after the lever is pulled, and with Koteas singing the Rolling Stones’ “Time is On My Side” until his last breath, a funny thing happens: the murders continue.

In fact, more than just the killings, strangers in the street sing “Time is On My Side” in Hobbes’ ear, and he soon realizes that he faces a devil of a killer whose been operating since the beginning—quite literally since the villain is a demon who was once an angel that fell with Lucifer. It’s a bizarre premise given strutting confidence thanks to Washington’s performance, as well as good supporting work by John Goodman and Donald Sutherland. Twenty years later and its ending still sticks with me.

5. The Exorcist III (1990)

If you haven’t seen The Exorcist III, we know what you’re thinking: “Really?!” Yes. In fact, this isn’t even an exorcist movie; it should’ve been titled Legion like the 1983 novel it’s based on. Alas writer-director William Peter Blatty was forced to use the title and do reshoots that added an exorcism in the climax. Still, this supernatural thriller which involves a serial killer back from the dead is far better than it has any right to be.

Following the character of Lt. Kinderman from the 1973 masterpiece, the middle-aged gumshoe is now played by George C. Scott instead of the late Lee J. Cobb, and he possesses Scott’s usual love for contrasts between the restrained whisper and a bombastic howl. He also makes a sympathetic, secular detective forced to face the horrors of Hell when a series of murders committed against Catholic priests appear to be the work of the Gemini Killer (Brad Dourif), a serial killer whom Kinderman sent to the chair more than 10 years ago.

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Movies

The Exorcist III is a Classic and Better Than You Remember

By Jim Knipfel

Movies

The Exorcist Is Still the Scariest Movie Ever Made

By David Crow

Somehow the fiend—plus Kinderman’s long dead pal Father Damien Karras (Jason Miller)—appear to now be living in the same body of a John Doe kept in a mental asylum. With an unrelenting atmosphere of dread, palpable tension, and more of Blatty’s intellectual struggle with concepts of faith and evil, the film is more high-minded than its hacky title suggests. It also features one of the best jump scares in movie history.

4. Summer of Sam (1999)

The only movie on this list directly based on an actual serial killer’s crimes, Spike Lee’s Summer of Sam is a serious-minded joint. However, it’s only partially about the murders perpetrated by David Berkowitz, aka the “.44 Caliber Killer,” aka the Son of Sam. Rather the film focuses on the effects a serial killer has on the culture of New York City during the sweltering summer of 1977, and how it affects young lives trying to make it in the big city.

Influenced by Lee and his co-writers Michael Imperioli and Victor Colicchio’s memories of growing up in 1970s New York, the pic is a love letter to a grim moment in history when the city was about to explode with murders, blackouts, crime, and disco. All of this is digested from the vantages of Vinny (John Leguizamo), a philandering hairdresser guilt-ridden for cheating on his wife (Mira Sorvino), and his childhood pal Ritchie (Adrien Brody), who’s left the old neighborhood behind to join the fledgling punk rock scene.

With a greater interest in how a serial killer affects the culture and institutions of a city on edge than being a traditional crime drama, Summer of Sam is a bit of a forerunner to David Fincher’s far more polished Zodiac from a few years later. With heavy-handed dialogue and a plot too big for Lee to fully get his arms around, even at 142 minutes, Summer of Sam can be uneven and messy. But it has the sweaty incorrigibility of a long night out, and of revelries half remembered like from a fever dream.

3. The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

The rare serial killer movie told entirely from the perspective of the killer, Anthony Minghella’s The Talented Mr. Ripley is disarmingly creepy. Despite its glossy awards bait sheen, there is a cold-blooded streak that runs deep to the heart of the piece, likely due to Patricia Highsmith’s source 1955 novel. Starring Matt Damon fresh off his Good Will Hunting golden boy sheen, the film uses its casting to disorient and ultimately disturb.

Like Highsmith’s book, the film is not structured like a traditional thriller. It instead favors a detached ambivalence about its seemingly nebbish hero as he agrees to become an errand boy for the rich by traveling to 1950s Italy in order to retrieve a silver spoon cad (Jude Law) for his father. But the more time Tom Ripley (Damon) spends with Law’s Dickie Greenleaf, the more he grows envious of Dickie’s lifestyle, his wealth and confidence, and maybe even his affection for socialite Marge (Gwyneth Paltrow). There is a subtle—too subtle due to ‘90s Hollywood conventions—homoerotic undercurrent throughout the film as Ripley slowly works up the courage to take his first life. It won’t be his last.

Read more

Movies

Knives Out: When Murder Makes You a Better Person

By Natalie Zutter

Movies

Seven: The Brilliance of David Fincher’s Chase Scene

By Ryan Lambie

Highsmith wound up publishing four subsequent sequels to The Talented Mr. Ripley, but unfortunately no more were made with Damon. Perhaps because this was too unsettling for an ongoing franchise.

2. Seven (1995)

While watching David Fincher’s masterful Seven, the thing that immediately stands out is the oppressive nihilism that permeates throughout. There were decades of neo noir before this detective yarn about the hunt for a serial killer, but none demonstrated such an overbearing sense of despair before the opening credits were even concluded. And perhaps what makes it unshakable is how welcoming the film is toward bleakness; it succumbs long before the gut-punch finale.

Telling the story of an old cop days from retirement (Morgan Freeman) and a hotheaded rookie detective (Brad Pitt), Andrew Kevin Walker’s script has an economy of pace that still impresses despite its cynicism. Very quickly one murder becomes two, then three, and soon four. Yet none of the atrocities are reveled in by Fincher’s blocking; they’re off-screen mutilations which leave psychic damage on his two leads and, eventually, us. The deaths also quickly establish a pattern that their serial killer is targeting seven souls, each intended to embody one of the seven deadly sins.

The movie is a classic now for its climax where the killer “John Doe” (a reptilian Kevin Spacey) turns himself in and leads the cops into the darkest pit, but it’s the entire package that makes this one linger more than 25 years later. At the end of the film, Somerset quotes Hemingway by saying, “‘The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.’ I agree with the second part.” I’m not convinced his film does.

1. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

As the film that kick-started the idea that serial killers could create their own film genre, The Silence of the Lambs still remains the best of its kind. Blessedly unaware that it was creating conventions for countless copycats, the film tells its psychological drama with simplicity and clarity. Whereas other films on this list bask in their bleakness, there is a dogged optimism and even perverse warmth to this Jonathan Demme adaptation of Thomas Harris’ Silence of the Lambs novel. And that’s of course largely attributable to the casting of Anthony Hopkins and Jodie Foster.

As Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Hopkins is of course monumental. It’s a performance that turned a quinquagenarian into an overnight movie star, and became Hopkins’ calling card as he returned to the not-so-good doctor’s well one too many times. Still, he’s undeniably enthralling as Hannibal, a cannibal psychologist with superhuman powers of observation and mental menace. Even so, Foster is often overlooked by critics for her own contributions as the FBI trainee who’s proverbially fed to the incarcerated Lecter—a pretty face to get the serial killer to consult pro bono on the crimes of another mass murderer. It’s just one more example of casual sexism faced by Clarice that gives Foster as much to play as Hopkins.

Read more

Culture

David Fincher’s Zodiac: The Movie That Never Ended

By Don Kaye

Movies

The Little Things Ending Explained

By David Crow

Surrounded by the slights and prejudices of men—be they in law enforcement or straight jackets—Clarice is constantly underestimated. She finds an intellectual rapport with Hannibal, but she pulls herself out of the darkest night, and the screaming of the lambs, without assistance. Her perseverance matched by Hannibal’s darkly seductive qualities is the juxtaposition that makes Silence of the Lambs one of the finest films of its decade.

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The post Best Serial Killer Movies of the ’90s Ranked appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3r5iYGk

[mochideleche]

You can’t keep away from fate CH7

Pairing : Percy jackson x demigod!reader

summary : The daughter of destiny- literally, along with inevitability, compulsion and necessity. Being the child of a primordial goddess doesn’t really assure you a quiet calm life but when you return to new york after five years of being shipped off to boarding school, your once mundane life says goodbye.

A/N I would like to start off by thanking everyone who has read this fanfic and thank you all for the notes, reblogs and follows, it really makes my day! please do comment what you think and here is the second half of BOTL. I know i said i would put it in two halves but it got a bit too long so it’s going to have to be 3.  enjoy!

contents page

“You couldn’t perhaps, I don’t know, put some goggles on, open a window or something?” you began, wafting the air in front of you in order to not get a lung full of smoke.

Beckendorf, although you did prefer to call him charles, turned to you and pulled down the bandanna covering his mouth down, “nah, it’s all right Y/N, us children of Hephaestus are born to able to withstand such harsh conditions” and he went back to hammering the almost formed celestial bronze sword in his hand.

You supposed that he was correct, although being very much not a direct child of hephaestus, you didn’t really inherit the immunity to poison by carbon monoxide.

The reason why you were in the forges was because you helping out with the making of new weapons. A war was coming and you needed to be prepared. So you had teamed up with you so called uncles and aunties to do so. When you were on the island of circe you had found you had an extreme hand at magic. Enchantments and charms were your specialty- things like curses, not so much.

You shivered at the thought of all those pirates who had been rotting away with hatred for the goddess, you couldn’t imagine what they had done when percy had freed them. At the time you didn’t know that circe was keeping men visitors as hostage, you just thought they didn’t allow any on the island. If you had knew then, maybe you wouldn’t have stayed for so long, or gone at all.

“Y/N it’s nearly done, you ready?” Beckendorf called over his shoulder and you snapped back to reality, making your way to his side.

You were defiantly not the best at forging ( hey, you can’t have everything) so you were tasked with reinforcing the weapons with magical properties such as, unbreaking, knock back and perhaps a few fire enchantments- which conner and travis were very fond of, you had to put out at least 7 fires that week, conner himself at one point.

Beckendorf, took the sword, a long double-edged blade, with a wide hilt and shaped like a leaf, very greek- you thought, as he dunked it in water to cool it down.

When it came out, steaming, you placed your hands over it’s centre. It had taken you quite a while to get back into the swing of things - having been about 5 years since you had last done the magic trick, but now you did it without problem. You chanted a spell in ancient greek and began to spread your hands over it, taking one towards the hilt and the other to the point. A dim blue light shone over it, encasing the blade almost like a second skin. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the awe in beckondorfs face and it made you smile- to think that such a big buff boy could be amused by a little magic...

You finished your spell and the dim blue light shone intently for a second then disappeared, the sword gleaming as if it had been given a new life.

“What’s this one do then?” beckendorf asked, sounding like a 5 year old who had just been given a new toy.

“Knockback, this ones a bit more powerful, I think” You said, remembering the brightness of the final glow the sword had given.

“You think? how can you tell?”

You shrugged and the opened your arms, “Only one way to find out”

Beckendorf looked at you as if you were mad, “I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“No, I want to see how powerful these things are” You said, readjusting you stance, “If it’ll make you feel better we can fight before it then you won’t feel like you hit me unguarded”

And you released your right sword and charged.

Beckendorfs eyes widened and he shook his head viciously as you came towards him. But you didn’t stop and neither did beckendorf.

It was almost as if his body went into autopilot because you brought the sword down and he lifted up his hand to block it. He hadn’t even put any effort to push you back but as soon as your sword clashed against his, you were thrown back, your feet lifting off the floor and you soared half way across the forge.

If you hadn’t been expecting this, you would’ve crashed straight into the wall and created a Y/N sized crater. Fortunately you were expecting this and was able to control the air to slow you down and allow you to gracefully skid to a halt, avoiding you crashing into the wall.

“Woah, that was awesome” Beckendorf said as if in a trance, “Whatever gets hit with this is going to wish they never attacked in the first place”

A smile come on your face, “yeah I guess-”

The door to the forges swung open, you thought at first it was a group of campers coming for their ‘making weapons’ workshop but it was too early for that.

“Y/N there’s a group of dracnae near the boarder!” Will said, he was out of breath, he probably had just ran there from the forest.

You spun around and ran towards the door.

To save Will the expense of running again, you grabbed his arm in one hand and with the other you pushed yourself against the air.

And the two of you were carried away with the wind, literally.

You zoomed past the cabins and were into the forest in no time- the whole time will was shouting, from fear or excitement- you couldn't tell, but when you finally landed he stumbled around with a maniac smile on his face, “that was fun”

You left him trying to reorient himself and rushed to the lines of campers who were firing arrows from behind trees and with Lee Fletcher shouting over their heads.

“Don’t let them get past!” For a guy so warm hearted and who you’d often see singing songs at camp fires every night, you were shocked by his fierce shouts.

“Aim, and fire! Again! Don’t fall back! go forward- Y/N!”

You rushed towards them after seeing through a gap between the trees.

There were about two dozen dracnae- half snake women who had the top half of a human and the bottom of a snake. They stood out against the dull brown of the forest, their green thick tails slithering against the ground as they inched closer to where you stood. how they had got near the camp without being detected? you couldn’t tell, but you wanted them away as soon as possible.

Ignoring Lee’s calls, you rushed towards the line of snake women and lifted yourself on the winds, landing a few feet in front of the dracnae ladies.

“What have we got here?” a dracnae who you guessed was leader hissed, “Hmmmm, ssssmellssss like a goddessss”

You scrunched your nose, you preferred it when people said you smelled like magnolias.

You flicked you wrist, revealing your drakon blades and causing the dracnae to hiss in distaste. Then you bounded after them.

Unlike percy, you tended just to get on with it, you felt like taunting was a waste of time and you weren’t much of a talker either. You advanced at the first dracnae, she bared her fangs and raised her long spear ready to attack.

others were ready to pounce on you too, but you took care of them. With a tug of your mind you caused one of the older trees to uproot, and it came falling down, crashing about 7 of the ugly things leaving a fine cloud of yellow dust.

The others came to their senses and instead of targeting the apollo cabin, they attacked you. about 15 to 1, that seemed fair. But at least that had taken their attention off your friends.

“You’ll pay for that!” the centre dracnae hissed and her forked tongue licked her lips restless as if she was excited to have another demigod meal.

You fell into combat with the leader, your swords were shorter which meant you had to come into close contact with her, and the fact she smelt like wet mouldy leather, you didn’t exactly want that.

She was rather good with a spear but she was no match with your two blades. You were able to semi-disarm her, sending her shield flying into a nearby tree and you swung your left sword to slice her torso in half but it never made contact with it.

The ugly dracnae smiled at you

She had moved so fast that she was able to block the attack with the but of her spear, pushing up against your left as she pushed down against you right. She inched loser towards yo, the tip of her spear rather close to cutting into your hand.

You were stuck, but you gave her what she wanted. You retracted you left sword so it wrapped neatly around your wrist as a diamond and pearl encrusted bracelet and the dracnae’s spear smashed into her face, “OW!”

she swiped at you blindly but you sliced off her hand with almost no effort at all. That was far too easy.

She wailed out in pain and she let down her guard to now look at her newly decapitated arm, “AHHHHH”

The sound was horrible, like a thousand metal keys scratching on a chalkboard, you shut her up by driving a sword through her gut.

She exploded in a yellow dust cloud, you blew some wind to prevent it falling into your eyes.

You spun around, facing the other 14. You raised your eyebrow- this will be fun.

They slithered restless, their slimy green tails moving bak and forth against the ground, as if ready to charge at you. But that gave you an idea, and you began to make the ground swallow them up.

“What is this?!” one of the exclaimed, as she uselessly tried to pull her tails from the ground, “What have you done?”

The others began to brandish their spears, holding them out to you, trying to catch you from that length.

“Releasssse ussss thisss inssstant” One from your right hissed, causing you to smile.

It was absolutely ridiculous how monsters thought they could tell you what to do, are they stupid?

“All yours Lee” You said sweetly.

Lee popped out from behind the tree, blush tinting his cheeks and eyes wide, “uhm- me?” he pointed to himself but then he recollected isn stood up straight, “You heard her, aim and fire!”

About a dozen arrows were knocked at once and you barely had time to dodge out of the way as they rained down on the dracnae army, creating a little mushroom cloud of yellow dust.

You gagged, the smell was horrible.

“Y/N are you okay?” Will sprinted towards you, his bow slung over his shoulder.

You nodded your head and he looked surprised, “Wow, not even a scratch” he said almost to himself as the other made their way towards you, congratulating you on your attack.

You always felt bad when this happened. You felt as if you had a rather large advantage to the rest of the campers but you believed that they should have their own chances at winning their own battle and not always have you to save the day. The whole camp knew of your power and thought that they would have the upper hand with you on their side, a daughter of a primordial goddess, but you didn’t want to steal their spotlight. So you did the best you can to make sure they took on the majority of the fight, only helping when you needed to.

You waved them off, “all I did was set a trap, you guys killed them and stopped them from getting to the camp, you should be proud of yourselves” you gave them a sweet smile and a assuring nod, that seemed to do the trick.

“Thanks Y/N” Lee said, patting your shoulder, “Is it alight if I ask you to inform chiron about this? Take will with you, we’ll scout the rest of the perimeter just in case there’s anymore monsters”  

You nodded your head and the rest of the apollo cabin followed Leeand left you and will at the sight of the fight.

“Are we going to do the wind thing again? that was fun” Will jumped up and down beside you and you didn’t realise how tired you were until you saw how full of energy will was. Or maybe that was just his personality, either way half way through talking to Lee you felt like falling just like the tree you uprooted did.

The world began to tilt side ways and you head felt as if it was no longer on your neck.

“Woah” Will exclaimed, catching your arm and holding you up, “ Y/N are you alright?”

You manage to roll your eyes to his face, Concern evident on his face, “ I’m fine thank you for asking, how are you?”

He scrunched his eyebrows, “that fight must have taken a bigger toll than I thought”

You knew that will had seen that you were left unscratched but being the son of apollo, and a talented healer, he could tell your wounds were somewhere deeper.

“Y/N you used your powers a lot today, and you were doing magic at the forges, you need to be careful, using too much of your powers might burn you out, literally”

You brought a hand up to pat will on the arm as he helped you stand up, “As long as the job gets done-”

“Y/N...” Will said warningly and you gave the younger boy a tired smile.

“Will i’ve got it under control, have a little faith in me”

You remember the first time will had brought up your overuse of your powers, you had fainted after going one to 5 with a vicious group of empousa and you were knocked out for about 3 days, will was the one who nursed you back to health.

“Y/N it doesn’t make sense” he said perplexed, staring at you as if you had just returned from the dead, which was rather similar, “Chiron said the powers you used were of an immortal, any power like that would’ve disintegrate any demigod”

Will was right, you should have disintegrated, you knew that but you had to protect the camp. you hadn’t felt tired at all during the fight, only after did the effects hit you.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I haven’t combusted so I guess i’m fine to continue”

“But what if you did?” Will said, “I know your one of our strongest fighters but we can’t have you risking your life every time monsters attack”

“But will,” you smiled softly, “That’s kind of the whole point”

He paused for a second the turned away, “You know what I mean”

You stared at will, you must thought he had healed plenty of campers, there was a heavy weight on his shoulders. Their lives had depended on him to save them.

“Chiron says, it’s-” He stuttered, as if the words were too hard to say, “he says it’s taking a toll on you on the inside, it’s breaking your soul”

The words hit you like a truck you saw from a mile away yet you still stayed perfectly still in the middle of the road, “I know”

He snapped his head towards you, “You know? Then why-”

“Why anyone does anything they do?” You interrupted, your voice tired, “Why do we all train? Why do we all go on dangerous quests? Why do we all fight back against an army of immortal titans?”

That shut him up.

You pursed your lips, “As long as there’s something worth fighting for, then I don’t mind risking my life, and so does everyone else”

"When did you start feeling it?” Will asked, still keeping a hand firm on your arm.

“When talking to Lee, but I didn’t-”

“Want them to see?” Will finished, and he scoffed, “I know”

You let your head hang at the disappointment in his voice but there was something else there too, admiration? concern?

“Y/N please don’t feel you need to seem strong all the time, you’re only just a demigod, nobody expects you to be indestructible”  Will said kindly as the two of you approached the boarders of camp, a few satyrs who were sitting under the shade of the trees saw the two of you and rushed to your aid.

You and Will made your way to the big house, Will still felt the need to keep his hand on your shoulder just in case you decided to faint but you tried to make it seem you were fully capable of walking yourself.

But as soon as you were in the living room you didn't think you could.

There was annabeth, tears running down her face, washing away a track through the grime and soot that caked her whole body. She had a nasty gash running down her arm and her clothes looked as if she had gone for a bath in the hudson river.

“Annabeth! are you alright, where’s percy, grover and tyson...” But as soo as the words left your mouth, you felt the dread fall upon you.

Annabeth continued to sob harder as will left your side to help with the bleeding cut on her arm.

Chiron stood in the centre of the room a grim expression on his face.

“We got separated,” Annabeth started, explaining all that had happened in the maze. You tried to keep your attention on her but the words just flowed through one ear and out the other, leaving nothing but the anxiousness that came with them.

“And Hephaestus showed me what happened to mount saint helens-”

Chiron and you had seen what had happened as you watched an iris message from a satyr near the mountain- The place had erupted, you were scared that typhoon was rising, but you’d rather have that than known percy was in there and he had never came out.

You heart dropped, and so did your knees.

You felt them hitting the floor before you knew you were falling, will rushed to your side, “Y/N?”

Percy... was gone?

He couldn’t be, he can’t be- he has a prophecy to fulfil he surely can’t be-

You didn’t realise you were saying it out loud until the words you didn’t want to utter got stuck in your throat.

You and annabeth made eye contact, both of you with tears streaming down your face. A silent exchange was made, there’s still nico.

You shook your head, that just gave a reason as to why percy could be dead.

“No, we would know right? if he was dead, if he’d been killed, he was definitely the one to cause the eruption right? He surely would have been able to save himself...? Right?!”

You were pleading at this point, you wanted someone to tell you that was exactly what had happened and percy would come back right away.

“I’m afraid, that all we can do now,” Chiron interrupted, his voice tight, a sad gaze directed to you, “is pray that he returns”

Your head snapped towards chiron, you were filled with shock- why wasn’t he jumping straight at the opportunity for a search party? Calling allies if they’ve seen anything? Sending campers out to look for him?

But then it dawned on you, how would you even begin to search for percy?

Looking at chiron made you wonder, how many heroes did he wait on to return but never did?

“What if it was just the mist,” you continued, not wanting to accept what you knew was well likely the truth, “ the mist could’ve been too strong that even we couldn’t see though it-”

“Y/N” will said, placing a hand on your arm.

You turned to him, surprised to see that there were tears brimming his eyes too. He sent you a look, please stop.

You let your sobs release and you flung your face into your hands, not wanting anyone to see. A second later you found yourself in annabeth’s arms and saw how lucky your were that she was still alive, “I’m so glad you’re okay” You muttered into her shoulder, “You’re alive thank the gods”

Chiron had left the room, you didn’t even realise, probably to call a counsellor meeting, if there was one, you didn't want to be there for it.

....

You left the camp the day after, you were upset and didn’t want to see anyone. You just wanted to mope in your sorrow and everyone let you do it -they were far too scared of what you’d do if they didn’t.

The only person who could approach at these times was annabeth but she was smart enough to let you wander on your own- Finding monsters before they found camp and killing them on the spot.

You were never one to be reckless, you were praised on that - able to keep level headed in the face of even the darkest moments. But nothing had ever flamed you like this.

The first day you left camp you couldn’t remember much but you returned, sweaty, covered in blood and monster dust and feeling like you would drop dead with exhaustion. But that still wasn’t enough to cover the pain in your heart.

It ate you up inside, percy couldn’t have- the percy jackson couldn’t-

You remember the first few nights, crying to yourself, head tucked under the sheets in your bed at the big house. Waking up at the crack of dawn and heading off from camp before anyone could see your red eyes and puffy face.

Then as the days went by you found yourself not being able to cry anymore, just lying with emptiness and shock.

The only time you stayed at camp was the day of percy’s shroud burning.

You had all been hoping for a miraculous return, but two weeks seemed long enough. You had prepared yourself for the worst and here you were finally coming to terms with it yet there was no feeling of satisfaction, no feeling of closure. You just wanted percy back.

You didn’t even get to tell him how you felt, how you had a crush on him the first time you laid eyes on him, how you’ve been in love with him ever since you’re first night by the lake.

You sat near the front, next to annabeth as she held percy’s shroud. It was right that she was the one to do it, after all, she was the last person to see him and her and percy had been through so much together.

Even at this time you couldn’t help but feel envious of your best friend. Her and percy had been on countless adventures together, practically grown up together and yet you were only fortunate to come into his life just a year ago. Some times you managed to get yourself upset with the fact that maybe annabeth was more suited for percy- deserved percy more than you.

You shook your thoughts out of your head, how can you be thinking about such selfish things at a time like this?

It didn’t matter now did it, there was no percy to get jealous over.

You sat silently, not watching as annabeth gave her speech. The whole camp seemed dampened by the news. The whole week campers lost their morale, no more laughs or even much chatter during dinner. Percy had been everyone’s favourite, the camp’s hero, their saviour, now-

“And he’s standing right there!”

You thought it was a cruel joke, but annabeth wouldn’t joke like this. Perhaps it was a trick of the mist, or maybe annabeth had lost it.

Never the less, you lifted up your head, not expecting much, just to glare angrily at the disturbance and you heart found it’s way to your throat.

There, standing at the back of the crowd was percy, no it couldn’t be.

he looked- perfectly fine, like he didn’t just die two weeks ago and had been on a short vacation in the bahamas.

His skin was slightly tanned and he was wearing new clothes that didn’t look like they’d been through the labyrinth at all. but you couldn’t believe it, you had to get a closer look, which was difficult because he was soon crowded with campers, hugging him, clapping him on the back, and your legs had stopped working.

It was only when annabeth ran up to hug him and he spun around, facing you, your eyes making contact- were you hit with the realisation that percy wasn’t dead.

The small smile on his lips broke into a wide one as he made his way towards you.

Your heart leaped, then it stopped, then you felt yourself shaking, eyes filling with tears. Percy’s form turning into a blurry blob as he rushed towards you.

You stood up and flung yourself off your seat and wrapped your arms around percy’s torso, your sobs immediately breaking out of your mouth as your chest heaved with the breaths you were holding.

The way you never wanted to let go. You clung onto him as if making up for all the times in the past two weeks you had nearly died just wanting to. You coiled your arms around him so tightly that your hands came back round to brush your elbows. It was like he was a dream and the closer you held him, the more real he would become.

But it really was him, wasn’t it?  

The feeling of his arms engulfing you was the most comforting thing in the world, it felt like only he existed and that was all you needed. They felt like the reassurance you needed to let you know he really was there.

He smelt nice, of freshly washed laundry and salt water, but he always smelt like salt water. The familiar scent just caused your heart to ache more, he really was here.

He brought his hand up to brush your hair, “Hey, it’s alright i’m here now, please don’t cry”

“I thought you were dead!” you choked out, “We all did!”

“I’m sorry princess,” percy whispered so that only you could hear, “i’m sorry if i pushed our reunion back too long”

You pushed yourself back and punched him square in the chest.

“Ow” he said, although a large smile was plastered on his face as he rubbed his chest where you had hit him.

“Why are you joking at a time like this!” you exclaimed, taking both your fists and pounding against his chest, “You-made-us-all-so-worried-”

“Hey hey hey,” Percy said, taking your fists in his hands and bending down to your height to see your face, “I’m sorry”

“You better be,” you bit out and turned away from percy so that he wouldn’t see the blush on your face, or the puffiness of your eyes, but it was rather difficult when he still had your wrists in his grasp.

You heard him let out a small chuckle, “gods i missed you”

You felt yourself heat up at the comment and you shyly turned your head up towards him- now he could really see the blush.

And then you were suddenly snapped back to reality, which was commendable since your crush had just returned form the dead and had immediately started flirting with you. And you were very aware of the whole camp who were now watching the both of you with all their attention.

But the smile of percy’s face washed some of that sudden anxiousness away. It was relaxed and matched the warmness of the look in his eyes, gods you could get lost in those sea green eyes all day.  he didn’t seem to care that the two of you had suddenly become the main stars of attraction in the amphitheatre, but the fact you could see the staring faces of your friends out of the corners of your eyes kept you glued to reality.

“Ahem,” Chiron interrupted, you wanted to snap your head towards him but you didn’t think you could handle the embarrassment, “I think we should all try to give percy some space, all of you back to your normal activities, head counsellors to the big house for a meeting”  

There was an outbreak of discontent murmur, campers wanted to hear percy’s story and were unhappy with the fact they were now expected to resume  normal activities after percy had just returned from the dead.

In the crowd you heard a snicker, “give him space applies to you too Y/N!”

If you weren’t red before, you sure were now.

You made to yank your hands away from percy, but he still held on tightly, “Oh no you don’t” he said under his breath and pulled you closer so that you stood next to his side, “I just got here, you’re not about to leave me just yet”

And with that, he dragged you along with the other head counsellors to the big house as you prayed silently in your head, thanking the gods that percy was alive and safely returned back home.

...

“That’s your plan?” Annabeth exasperated, throwing her hands up in the air, “It’s a stupid plan!”

You looked over to percy and he had a hard look on his face.

Chiron had called a meeting to discuss what to do and to make of annabeth’s and percy’s information about luke’s uprising army who were planning to attack camp.

Percy had explained his disappearance- marooned on an island and Hephaestus had saved him, you knew better.

As soon as he mention ‘island’ your heart dropped.

You suddenly found yourself thinking of calypso, the beautiful goddess who was exiled on ogygia and cursed to fall in love with boys she can never have.

Your heart was torn between feeling angry that she had kept percy away from you all and distraught that your friend had to go through another heartbreak.

Yes, calypso was your friend.

When you still lived with your mother, she had sent you to stay with calypso. She said that calypso was a kind girl and she felt pity towards her, so she often sent you to her for company.

Of course other gods would have argued against the notion but none ever did, they were far too scared of what your mother was capable of.

Whilst at the island you spent the days helping calypso in her beautiful garden, learning different things such as how to plant tubers to how to weave to how to create magic dishes that washed themselves.

And there, your distaste for the gods started.

You had always been on guard with the gods, from the way you saw it your mother was the only unselfish immortal you knew.

They always only seemed to do things that would benefit them in the long run, maybe they had their moments of generosity towards certain mortals but they still wouldn’t hesitate to destroy them the moment they pleased.

Just seeing how calypso was suffering reinforced that idea.

Of course you hadn’t been back since your mother’s disappearance, and so, you had asked Hephaestus, your grandfather,  if he could perhaps let you see her.

You were surprised that he even replied.

You had sent up an offering during dinner the last time you were at camp. You had a bowl of stew which you found taste shockingly like the stew calypso had made you every time you visited.

Your heart longed to see her again and in a desperate try, you called out to hephaestus along with the remains of your dinner.

You didn’t expect much, but the next day you found a note by your bedside table in your room in the big house.

“Dear Y/N, I have heard your request but i am afraid i can not fulfil this for you as there are too many, let’s say- associates i have that would be against the idea. I can however, pass on a message...”

And that night you burnt up a neatly enveloped letter addressed to calypso along with a piece of the cake you had for desert.

You tried to shake the malicious thoughts from your head, but how could percy not fall in love with calypso?

Annabeth caught your eyes and a sudden look of anger washed over her face, she must have seen the sadness in your eyes and you were afraid that just fuelled up her hate towards percy even more, “It’s too ridiculous, you are such are coward!” and she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

“So much for being the bravest friend she’s ever had” percy muttered and he slumped back in his seat.

He looked over at you but you couldn’t look him in the eyes without thinking about how he had probably looked at calypso with the same love and affection.

“I’ll go check if she’s alright” you announced, standing up and making your way to the door without evening checking if anyone disagreed.

You tried to make it seem like you weren’t glad to leave that room. Under different circumstances , you didn't eat to leave percy, but after the thought of him falling for calypso, it kind of made you want to get as far away from him as possible. To add to that, you had just broke down crying in front of half the camp and the fact that you were still slightly sniffingly in front of the head counsellors made you embarrassed. You hated people seeing you cry, and you had a reputation to uphold- a unbothered, elegant and level headed warrior.

But you pretty much just destroyed that by crying ugly and clinging onto percy like it was the only thing you knew.

You needed time to think, to calm down and was more than happy to go after annabeth.

As you left the room you heard the in-contented sound of objection from percy but you had already closed the door behind you.

You found annabeth pacing in front of the porch, angrily muttering to herself. You decided it was best to let her vent as you sat down on the porch steps and watched her.

She didn't acknowledge your presence but carried on with her one on one debate with herself, “How dare he suggest such an idea! it’s my quest! I should be the one suggesting ideas, and a mortal! how embarrassing...”

You couldn’t help a smile appear on your face, oh how prideful your best friend was but you did think she would never let herself live this one down.

“How does he even know it’ll work!” and she suddenly turned to you, eyes piercing through your body, “He barely knows the girl how does he know she can do it?”

You shrugged, you really had no clue, but it was the best thing you guys got.

Annabeth paused, then she let her shoulders deflate and she rubbed her forehead, “I’m sorry, I’m just angry. All the time people have been referring to me as percy’s ‘sidekick’ then i finally get my own quest and yet i complete have no idea what to do, fail and now i have percy saying he knows how to fix everything?!”

You looked sympathetically at annabeth. She hadn’t exactly explained her feeling like this before but you knew how she felt about being in percy’s shadow. You and grover had talked about it once, you both knew it would only be a little while before annabeth finally broke. And here she was, exploding.

“I know,” you said softly, as you made your way up to hug her, “but you haven’t failed yet, you’ve come this far and i’m not going to let you give up just yet”

You were worried that this did nothing to calm her down, but then you finally felt her hands come up and hug you back tightly, “You’re the best, you know that?”

you laughed, “and you know i’m right don’t you?”  and you stepped back to see the defeated look in annabeths eyes, “Percy’s merely suggesting an idea, it’s still your quest, it’s your decision”

Annabeth’s eyes focused on the horizon, “Yeah, i guess” she said quietly, but you knew it was okay. you saw the determined look in her eyes and was glad that the daughter of athena had got her spirit back.

....

That night you had agreed to sit meet with percy since you spent the majority of the day with annabeth, sitting around in your room and talking more about the labyrinth. Although halfway through you wanted to stir her away form the subject as it seemed to give her horrible flashbacks- you could imagine. 

You would hate to be stuck in the ground, claustrophobic and not seeing the outside world for so long. Not to mention the dangerous monsters and traps that lurked in the tunnels. 

So you brought up the conversation of what annabeth wanted to take when she went to college, that always seemed to get her excited no matter what. 

She had gone off on a tangent on her love for architecture, then somehow the conversation led to the idea of the two of you going on a trip to paris and how you’d show annabeth around all your favourite places and the old school you used to go to when you were younger. 

Then annabeth had fallen asleep on your bed. You decided to let her, it must’ve been a long time since she was able to relax, now knowing percy was alive, you related to the feeling. 

The two of you sat by the deck, your usual place. 

Now it was percy’s turn to talk about the labyrinth, he seemed more relaxed than annabeth though, his arms resting behind him as he leaned back, one situated by the small of your back causing his arm to brush against you if you shifted slightly. 

He stared across the lake a sombre look in his eyes as he recited yet another adventure to you. 

He told you about how he’s fought off the telkhines, it was fascinating how he had saved himself, conjuring water from his own body, you were amazed. But after that he stopped himself from talking anymore. 

Because after that he’d met calypso. 

You were used to sitting in comfortable silence with percy, but this, was not one of them. 

“She’s lovely isn’t she?” you finally spoke up, sick of the tension that was created between you. Screw it, you thought, we both know so why don’t we just make it obvious. 

You stole a glance at percy form the corner of your eyes, he was bushing.

“Chiron told me you’d figured it out” percy said quietly, “i’m sorry”

“What are you sorry for?” you asked confused, but you had a feeling where this was going. 

Percy was silent for a while, his feet were now swinging violently back and forth and you could tell he was trying to calculate his words carefully.

“I- I could’ve gone back earlier, I made you all worry-”

“Percy,” You interrupted, as you turned towards him, tucking a leg underneath you, “It wasn’t your fault you ended up on ogygia, all that matters now is that you’re here and you’re alive” 

You knew what percy had said was true, but you didn’t want him beating himself up over it. 

“Yeah, i-i chose to come back” he said trying to avoid looking at you and staring at the lake, “i couldn’t just- leave you all behind” 

Your heart clenched at his words, he had made his decision and suddenly you felt guilty for even feeling angry towards percy for even laying eyes on calypso. Now you wanted to apologise. 

“Percy, I-”

“Nope, I wasn't finished,” Percy said, holding up a hand and finally facing you, his eyes looked stormy, like he was angry, but from the tone in his voice he wasn’t angry at you, but more like himself.

“ I’m to going to lie, when i was on the island i enjoyed the time i spent there; no responsibilities, no monsters, no nightmares. It was always sunny, i never had to do any chores and well, calypso was nice to me,” his voice quieted towards the end and you had to fight down the urge to feel jealous, “ but i felt guilty for enjoying it, i still do. I didn’t know why but i realised it’s because it made me feel like i was forgetting about everything i cared about back home. The camp, my parents, my friends, you” 

Your heart began to beat erratically and you noticed how percy tensed up and stopped swinging his legs so that they hung still over the deck, “I uh- new york, long island, the pizza they sell at the diner near school...” 

You couldn’t help but smile at his lame attempt to cover up his indirect confession for you, but to save him the embarrassment you decided not to mention it. 

In that moment, you were so full of adrenaline, percy liked you, and you were certain of it. 

Screw it, you thought, and began to speak. how you rashly decided you were going to confess your undying love for percy on a whim was fuelled by the feeling of regret you had about not saying anything when you thought he was dead. It’s now or never, you said to yourself but percy still wasn’t finished.

“But then i realised there were bigger things for me to worry about,” He continued, a hard look appearing on his face, “I still have a prophecy to fulfil, if i wasn’t there to help fight luke- kronos, that would be selfish of me, what would happen to all of you?” 

The hard look on his face began to melt away and he turned his head towards you, eyes creased in a ghost of a smile, “I can’t let that happen, no way am i letting kronos beat the son of freaking poseidon that easily” 

You let a soft laughter out, you could always count on percy’s sarcastic ass to make you smile, “no, you can’t” 

Percy leaned back, looking over the lake again and allowing his legs to swing back and forth. You took this moment to look at him, taking in all the details. From the curve of his lips to the lingering streak of grey hair, you loved all of it. 

And percy was right, he did have greater things to worry about, perhaps burdening him with you love confession wasn’t something to bring up at this given time. 

But for now, you were just content to be in his presence. 

[thaliagrayce]

The Innocent Can Never Last

here’s the ao3 link if you wanna stop by!

Her roots were just barely starting to show. She leaned over the shitty drugstore pocket mirror she had propped against the windowsill above her sleeping bag and pulled some of her short hair straight up, squinting at the half centimeter of blond that had crept up underneath the black. She would have to dye it again soon, but it was almost a miracle that it was only half a centimeter. Her hair used to grow a lot faster, before she was a tree.

Whatever. Maybe this meant it was time to finally get that buzz cut she’d always wanted; she would have enough time enough to enjoy the way the short dark hair looked on her head before it grew out blond again. For now, though, all she did was ruffle her hand through it to cover the blond as well as she could and made sure her eyeliner was properly smudged before getting out of her makeshift bed.

She ignored the haphazard stack of orange t-shirts piled next to her duffel bag that some Hermes camper had brought her the first week she’d been there. Changing in the middle of the day felt kinda stupid, but it meant that she’d already checked off her Camp Spirit for the day. Nobody could tell her to change. Today was a black tank top kind of day, anyway. The last thing she grabbed before leaving was the dark blue UC Berkeley drawstring bag she’d kept with her on the road, torn in a few places and with half the yellow logo faded to illegibility. Its contents clanked as she threw it over her shoulder and pushed the door open.

The late afternoon heat of July hit her without mercy as soon as she opened the cabin door, and she had to screw her eyes shut against the force of the sunlight. It felt like a completely different world out here, with kids yelling to each other from across the basketball courts and chasing each other around with swords and screaming when they fell off the climbing wall. The inside of the Zeus cabin must have been soundproofed, because it always felt so cut off from the rest of camp—you couldn’t hear anything but the rumble of thunder from in those walls. Maybe Zeus just didn’t like sharing the spotlight.

Changing into a black shirt started to sound like a bad idea in retrospect halfway to the infirmary, but she didn’t let that deter her. She’d worn nothing but hospital gowns and orange shirts since she woke up two weeks ago, and stupid heat and sunlight wouldn’t ruin her first day of freedom.

Some son of Apollo she recognized was leaving the infirmary just as she got to the door. She nodded at him, trying and failing to remember his name. There were so many people here. She hadn’t really had to learn anyone’s name in years—not anyone that mattered, anyway—and now she was presented with at least five new people every day.

And they all wore orange. She’d had an almost constant headache from all the color when she first woke up, which really didn’t help her memory or attention span.

The infirmary was almost empty when she got there, just a couple campers tidying up. Two sharp raps to the doorframe drew their attention to her.

“Fletcher. You got the goods?”

Lee Fletcher was the eldest camper in the room, a skinny dark-skinned boy with dreads tied back in a ponytail and a smile sunny enough to announce his parentage without need to be claimed. He was one of the only people whose name Thalia had actually learned since she woke up. He had been the one in charge of monitoring Thalia during the week that she’d spent stuck in the infirmary, and she was still trying to figure out how to properly say ‘thank you for keeping me alive and sane even after I punched you in the face’.

“You owe me for this, you know.” Lee grinned at her and held up one finger in a ‘one second’ gesture, then jogged to his bag in the corner. While he shuffled around in it, Thalia shrugged her bag off her shoulders.

“I had to cash in a favor with Travis Stoll for this. You know how much those are worth?”

“He’s one of the Hermes ones, right?” Thalia stepped into the room and leaned against the wall. “Just tell him it was for me, then he’ll have something on the new kid. You’ll be fine.”

“Here we go!” He straightened up and crossed the room to her, holding out a smuggled CD case. “Brand new, pristine condition. Come back to me when you realize Nimrod is child’s play.”

She took the case and immediately wanted the album art on a pin to add to her jacket—a white hand holding on to a red heart-shaped grenade. Nice. She wouldn’t admit that to Lee yet, though.

“Come on. You’ve heard Nimrod, right? How can you be so confident I’m gonna like this one more?”

“Because Good Riddance is the only song worth remembering on the entire album. Just trust me, American Idiot is gonna blow you away.”

She smirked at him and shoved the CD into her bag. “We’ll see about that. Thanks for getting this for me.”

“No problem. Once you’re done with that, I’m gonna introduce you to My Chemical Romance” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to her, sighing with a bittersweet smile. “It’s just nice to have someone else around who has good taste in music again.”

The since Luke left went unsaid, but hung like a summer thunderstorm in the silence after his words. Thalia looked down at her hands, at the few freckles dotting her knuckles and fresh black nail polish she and Annabeth had applied together yesterday. The two of them had spent an hour sitting together like that, painting each other’s nails while Annabeth quizzed Thalia about important global events that had happened while she was out and people she should probably know going forward. It wasn’t hard to imagine him here with them if she thought about it, which is why she didn’t let herself think about it.

Life was simpler when she was a tree.

Lee cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms, tapping the wall behind him twice before pushing off of it. “I, uh, gotta get back to work. You think you’ll start listening before dinner?”

She looked up at him and smiled, but even she could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh yeah. I’ll have a full analysis double-spaced and printed for you by six.” Lee huffed a laugh, and she considered that to be a step forward. Awkward atmosphere who? She could have more than two friends.

“Good. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.”

She sent a wave over her shoulder as she stepped out and made a mental note to talk to him about the album tomorrow. She liked Lee. She wanted to be his friend and was determined to put in the work to make sure that happened, but she wasn’t going to be at dinner tonight. There were more important things on her agenda than team dinner.

The sun was hanging a little closer to the horizon now; not close to sunset yet, but the heat had lost its intensity. She had to get a move on.

Campers stared at her when she was out and about sometimes, which really wasn’t her favorite thing. She’d had enough unwanted attention from the public to last a few lifetimes already. Usually people cared about the other parent, though. The Hephaestus kid coming out of the forge probably didn’t even know who Beryl Grace was, let alone see her wide blue eyes and signature smile on Thalia’s face.

It wasn’t much better, but at least being a child of Zeus came with power. The stare she got now wasn’t just curiosity, it was respect.

She stared down the Hephaestus kid as she walked past, and they had the decency to look embarrassed about staring. Good.

She got halfway to the dining pavilion before she was interrupted again.

“Thalia!”

Annabeth was taller than her now, which didn’t feel like something that should be allowed. When she bounded over to Thalia, all smiles and curls and bright orange t-shirt, Thalia actually had to look up to meet her eyes.  It was strange. She had started to think of Annabeth as a little sister somewhere along the road, and when she woke up again, she realized she had missed—six? Seven?—years of Annabeth’s life. That hit her harder than any years of her own life she had missed. As far as Thalia was concerned, she had died at age twelve and been resurrected at age fifteen and that was that.

But Annabeth was tall now, and smiling at her. Thalia smiled back, real despite the mood she had slipped into since leaving Lee. It wasn’t hard.

“Annabeth! How you doing? Where’s Percy?” The boy was usually two steps behind Annabeth, or she was two steps behind him, and they were usually bickering loud enough for half the camp to be able to make an informed decision on whose side they would take if asked.

Annabeth made a face at his name, but she also blushed a bit. Thalia bit back her smirk. The kid tried, but she couldn’t hide her true emotions for anything. She liked to pretend she didn’t drag him around everywhere, but Thalia had only been back for two weeks and it was already a little weird to not see them together.

“I don’t know, doing Percy things? We’re not attached at the hip, you know.” She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and Thalia watched it bounce.

That was another thing. Her hair was long now. The day after Thalia woke up, Annabeth had come to sit with her in the infirmary, just to be with her for a while and drink in each other’s presence. Thalia had reached out a hand and touched one of her curls, tugging it a little and watching it bounce back to join the rest. When she had looked at Annabeth’s face again, she had tears in her eyes and a wobbly smile on her mouth.

“It suits you,” Thalia had said. It was true. Annabeth looked so much happier now, so much more confident. She looked as proud as Thalia felt.

Now, tan and tall and comfortable enough to be blushing in the sunlight, it was clear that this place had become her home in the years Thalia had been gone. For a moment, she was hit with how much she had missed.

“We should get our ears pierced together.”

Annabeth blinked at her in surprise. She might have been talking while Thalia wandered into nostalgialand.

“But you already have pierced ears.”

Of course she had pierced ears, she’d grown up with a famous mother who cared more about her baby’s image than the person behind it. Thalia had pierced ears since before she could talk. She also remembered Annabeth being transfixed by her earrings when she thought Thalia wasn’t looking on the road, though. Thalia had missed seven years and hadn’t been able to support Annabeth through most aspects of her transition, but this was something she could be around for.

“I want a double piercing, we should go together.” Thalia squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, looking at Annabeth with challenge in her eyes. “Unless you’re afraid of needles, of course.”

Annabeth bristled, which was exactly what Thalia had been hoping for.

“I’ve faced fully-grown cyclopes and a boat full of angry monsters and the Lord of the Dead himself. I think I can handle one needle.”

“Good. We can sneak out later this week.”

“Or,” Annabeth corrected, “we could wait for September. Chiron told me to find you, he said he snagged a spot for you at the boarding school I’m going to this fall. It’ll be a lot easier to get into the city from school.”

Thalia immediately felt lighter, like a weight she hadn’t even known was there suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A week ago, Chiron had broken it to her that she probably had to stay at camp all year round because of how strong her aura was. She’d been going to the Big House every morning to train with the Mist, but he made sure her hopes didn’t get too high—she needed to get good good before she would be able to safely leave camp.

“For real? He actually said that?”

“Yep! We won’t be roommates, but we’ll be in the same dorm. It’ll be super easy to find me if something goes wrong.”

That meant less of Annabeth’s life that she had to miss because she was sidelined. More time when she could just exist with her little sister, learn who she had become in Thalia’s absence. Learn who she would grown into.

“Sick, you can help me study. I haven’t been to school since I was like seven.”

Annabeth laughed at that. “Neither have I, this is gonna be an interesting year.”

One of Annabeth’s sisters ran over to get her after that, something about an argument about beach volleyball rules getting a little too heated. Names were called, swords were drawn. That seemed like a pretty common occurrence here, though, so Annabeth hadn’t looked too worried as she hugged Thalia and said goodbye. The sun was dipping a little closer to the setting point, anyway. Thalia was running out of time.

A few dryads were setting up the dining pavilion for dinner by the time she got there. If she didn’t want to be stuck waiting for everyone else, she had to be sneaky about how she got her shit. Luckily for her, living on the streets for your formative years was a pretty good way to learn how to get in and out of a place undetected.

The first trick was knowing exactly what you were going to take before you went in to get it. She skirted around to the back of the pavilion and hid behind a column. The table farthest from her held a huge bowl of peaches—easily bruised but still easily grabbable. Closer by, a dryad with stick-straight brown hair wheeled a big dish that kinda looked like a boat with a cover out on a cart, and Thalia dismissed that immediately. Nothing portable was kept in a container like that—it was probably pasta night, or some kind of soup or something. Unless she wanted to ruin her bag and everything in it, that wasn’t an option.

More than one peach, then. That was fine. There was a big basket of fresh rolls next to the probably-pasta, and they smelled good. She’d had worse meals than fresh bread and peaches before.

The second trick was confidence. If you looked like you knew what you were doing, you were a lot less likely to be stopped while you did it. Thalia waited until the dryad had gone back into the kitchens, then walked out from her hiding spot with her shoulders set and her posture relaxed. Carefully casual. She managed to get to the bread and stick three rolls into her bag without drawing any attention at all.

Walking toward the peaches put her directly in the path of another dryad, though. She was just headed out of the kitchens, carrying a platter of still-steaming brownies. She blinked at Thalia twice, and her green eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“It’s not time to eat yet, what are you doing back here?”

Confidence, she reminded herself.

“I was sent here.” Confident statement, confident tone. She was doing great.

The dryad narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? By who? Why?”

Maybe confidence only worked if you had the conviction to back it up. She thought briefly about just getting out of there, but then she remembered that she was getting daily lessons in bullshitting other people. This was a harmless enough reason; she was sure the nymph would understand, and Chiron would probably be fine with her practicing at camp.

Probably.

She breathed in through her nose and thought of what the dryad saw: some punk teenager trying to sneak food before dinner. There had been a moment of recognition, though, right before the suspicion set in. She knew who Thalia was.

Thalia waved her hand in the air, disguising it as adjusting one of the straps on her shoulder. She put both breath and intention behind her words, and prayed to her father that it would actually work.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get in your way. I can’t eat with the rest of the campers for medical reasons tonight. I won’t be much of a hassle, I’m just going to grab a peach before the crowd gets here and I can’t leave.”

The dryad blinked. Her eyes went a little hazy, which immediately filled Thalia with equal parts elation and guilt. It had worked, but she had just preyed on this woman’s kindness. The fact that the words were mostly true was a bit of consolation, at least.

“Of course. Take a brownie, too. I hope you feel better soon.”

She felt bad, but not bad enough to not take a brownie. They smelled fantastic.

After that, she had no trouble getting at the peaches and slipping a few of them into her bag. As she walked away, she heard the squeaking of wheels and the clinking of plates—the harpies had come in to set the tables. She’d gotten out just in time.

Now she just had to get across camp without being noticed and pulled in with the dinner rush. Cutting through the middle of the cabins was the most direct route, but it was also guaranteed to get her seen by well-intentioned curious eyes. She eyed the amphitheater. Going around the far end of that would take more time and would take her closer to the magical camp border than she should go, but it was also the most hidden option. It was probably fine. She had her shield, she had a butterfly knife in her pocket. She took the long route.

As she was skirting around the raised seating, a laugh carried up from the stage—someone must have been using it. The laugh stopped her cold, pulse running wild. Her brain knew that it wasn’t Luke, it couldn’t have been Luke, but—

“Cut it out, Trav! I have a reputation!”

There it was again, the laugh. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, ignored the sudden heat behind her eyes. Of course. The Stolls. It really was incredible how similar siblings could be.

“What reputation, dude? You snorted chocolate milk out your nose last week.”

Thalia hiked her bag further up on her shoulder and walked faster. She’d been stupid. Luke wasn’t here, and it would be a serious threat if he was. She knew that.

She still wasn’t sure if her reaction had been happiness, fear, anger, or a fucked up mix of all of them.

Finally, the giant pine peeked out from the other side of the amphitheater. She gave the entrance a wide berth, not wanting to be seen and not wanting to hear anything more. She focused on the silhouette of the tree against the sky.  Even after two full weeks, it felt wrong to look at it from the outside. Like looking down at her hand but not recognizing it as her own.

As she got closer, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d never cared about the scent of pine trees before she’d become one, but now she found herself missing it. She’d technically lived in a pine tree for longer than she’d ever lived almost anywhere else, and her memories of Beryl’s house were both distant and stressful. Cedar, fir, and juniper were the first scents she thought of when she heard the word “home”. Demigod life might be confusing and she might be completely out of the loop, but at least this tree was, too. She could breathe easier as she approached.

The baby dragon that had gotten there earlier that week—Peleus—lifted his head as she got closer, but lowered it again immediately when he saw who it was. The rest of the camp was still pretty uneasy around him, but Thalia didn’t quite get it. He was about the size of a Great Dane and just as affectionate as one, if he trusted you.

He didn’t trust a lot of people yet, though. He knew that Argus was the guy that brought him food and Chiron was the one who clopped away in a funny way if you sneezed fire, so they were okay, but the rest of camp was on thin ice.

He’d never minded Thalia, though. She kind of thought he still recognized her as part of the tree, or maybe he recognized the tree as part of her. Whatever. The dragon loved her, which felt pretty damn good. She patted his head once as she passed his napping spot, and he rumbled something that sounded like a purr but much, much deeper.

She took off her bag and sat heavily on the other side of the trunk, staring out over the forest at the almost-setting sun. In the distance, the conch shell sounded, followed by a loud bang from somewhere around the armory. Probably one of the Hephaestus kids experimenting for the fireworks show. It wouldn’t be for another few days, but camp had been plagued by random crashes and explosions all week. She was getting better at not reacting, getting more used to this camp and all of its eccentricities.

She took the beat-up blue CD player out of her bag, the only relic she still had from her time at home. She’d left Beryl Grace’s house with a duffel bag full of clothes, an entire loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and her trusty CD player. Back then, she only had a Wham! CD that some well-meaning friend of her mother had given her, something that she’d lost somewhere between Montana and Wyoming. The big black over-the-ear headphones that she pulled out next were more recent, but still pretty old by current standards. Luke had stolen them for her from a Radio Shack in Georgia somewhere, as an apology present for some dumb mistake he’d made that day. She couldn’t even remember why she had been mad, but she remembered the way he smiled at her excitement.

She didn’t like dwelling on Luke, but she figured she had one day a year to be sorry for herself. She deserved it. She took the CD Lee had given her out of its case and popped it in the player before bringing out one of the peaches.

The album was good, Lee was right. Better than Nimrod. She let it play as she cut up the peaches with her butterfly knife and ate them, either sliced on top of the bread or just plain. They were juicier than they should have been this early in the summer, but she figured it was probably some bullshit divine magic. Everything here ran on it. She bit into one of the rolls, still warm despite the walk.

So Luke was evil now. That’s what Percy said that first day, at least, and Annabeth had looked too distressed to correct him at the time. She’d gotten defensive since then, put her foot down when the topic came up—which really wasn’t that often, whenever both Annabeth and Thalia were in a room—and made sure everyone knew that Luke was still good. Just misguided.

Thalia had no idea what to think. Some of the stories about him she understood completely. Starting a rebellion against the gods because they were shitty parents? Yeah, that checked. The two of them had done their fair share of griping about the awful hand they’d been dealt when they were on the run, and there was really no way that blame didn’t rest directly on their parents’ shoulders. Her death had probably made that worse for him, and she sincerely felt for him there.

Hurting kids, though? Especially someone who was so close to Annabeth, someone she clearly cared about? That was a little farfetched. Percy seemed like an honest kid, and everyone else she had asked backed him up on the whole scorpion story (and the several subsequent swordfights), but she still couldn’t quite get her heart to believe that Luke had tried to kill this boy when he was twelve. Percy was still shorter than Thalia, and he had this sharp air around him that reminded Thalia of Luke sometimes. He couldn’t do that, right? She knew him. She trusted him. They had been angry on the road, yeah, but they had taken Annabeth in without blinking. That anger was directed entirely at the gods. He wouldn’t try to destroy the one safe place on the planet for kids like them.

She flat-out refused to believe that Luke had poisoned her. Or—if he had, he had poisoned the tree. He thought Thalia was dead, Thalia was supposed to be dead. The tree itself wouldn’t have mattered.

(She didn’t think of the motivation behind poisoning the tree. She couldn’t.)

So some of what she heard had to be bullshit, plain and simple, but…

She’d caught a few people laughing at some of her jokes about him, his harmless quirks and manners of speech, before they caught themselves. They knew him, they’d known him before whatever actually happened went down. Before he became evil or whatever. Some of them had clearly been friends with him—not to the same extent, but still—and they all said he’d done these terrible things. So she didn’t know what to think. They knew him, but maybe they didn’t know him as well as she did.

Then again, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. People changed. Maybe her best friend became a child murderer.

She wiped the butterfly knife on her pants before she closed it and stuck it in her pocket, done with her peaches and bread. The song that had just started was nice, more mellow and low-key than the rest of the album. It sounded sad, minor chords and a mournful voice, but she hadn’t been paying much attention to the lyrics. She would have to listen to the whole album again before she talked to Lee tomorrow. That was okay, it was good. She would have re-listened to it anyway.

The sun was finally setting for real, and she thunked her head against the trunk of the tree behind her. Whether or not she liked it, whether or not she believed it was Luke, someone had poisoned her tree. Either to get at camp or to get at her specifically, she didn’t know. It would have ended up the same either way. She wasn’t supposed to be awake, she didn’t want to be awake, but here she was. And now, from what Chiron had told her that morning about a prophecy, she was expected to go and kill her best friend on her next birthday.

Welcome back to life, Thalia.

She thought she had died so that Luke, Annabeth, and Grover could be safe, so that they could all have somewhere that would feel like home and protect them from the monsters. Now Annabeth had battle scars all over and Grover had just spent two weeks captive and in terror for his life and Luke had become the monster she was expected to fight and she was still alive, so her sacrifice meant nothing.

She took a shaky breath and felt how much cooler the breeze was against the tracks her tears had made. Tonight wasn’t about Luke. She had to move on. There would be time to think about him later.

For now she paused the music at the end of the slow song, but she kept the bulky headphones on. She knew she was less likely to be disturbed like this, dressed in her ripped-up ratty jeans with her angry eyeliner and big black headphones. ‘Difficult to talk to’ was the exact look she had been going for that afternoon. She moved away from the trunk of the tree, but not far enough that her silhouette would be noticeable to a faraway observer. Still under the wide boughs, still enclosed in comfort. She cleared a circle about a foot wide of any pine needles, thankful that a combination of Peleus and shade meant that grass never successfully grew under the tree.

She took a few tissues from her bag and set them in the center of the circle, smoothing down their edges in an attempt to look nice. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Gently, she set the brownie she’d gotten from the nymph in the center of the napkins. Then she took out her old electric blue gas station lighter. She was kind of surprised it still had fluid after all these years, but she was grateful for it. Stealing a lighter or matches would have been a lot harder for her than stealing some peaches.

She lit the tissues. As the flames crept closer to the brownie, she prayed.

“Hey, Hades. It’s me. Again.” The tissue burned out completely, but the moist brownie caught fire, so she guessed he had probably heard.

“I know it’s been a few years. Also you tried to kill me, which wasn’t cool and probably means you hate me, but I get it. I guess. You can hate me, that’s fine. I just—” She swallowed, suddenly aware of how hot her eyes had become. She felt a tear fall onto her arm. If Hades was listening, he probably already knew what she was going to say. She’d done this every year, but she needed to say it again. She needed to.

“Please take care of Jason.” She blinked past the wetness in her eyes and watched the fire spread over the brownie in unnatural colors—blue and white, purple and gold. It smelled like it was baking instead of burning. She hoped that Jason could smell it from wherever his little two-year-old soul was down there.

“I know it’s not cake, but you always liked these better anyway. Happy birthday, bud. Miss you.”

The worst thing about waking up so close to July was that she wasn’t used to the years she had skipped yet. She was fifteen and she shouldn’t have been fifteen and it took her a full minute to figure out how old Jason should have been starting today.

Twelve. It would have been his twelfth birthday, had he survived past his second. Had Thalia not left him with their mother. Had she run away a week earlier, towing him along behind her. Would he and Annabeth have been friends? What would he think of Luke? Of Camp Half-Blood?

When she’d made her last stand seven years ago, right here in this spot, her final thoughts hadn’t actually been about protecting Annabeth or Luke or Grover. That was her motivation, yes, but her last thoughts had actually been about her brother. There was no way she would get out of that encounter alive, she knew that. She thought she had known that. The last thing she remembered thinking before she woke up was I hope I get to see Jason again.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the mingling scents of pine and baking brownies. It was July First, and Thalia was allowed to be sad today. She would pull herself together by tomorrow, she always did, but she was allowed to cry tonight.

She opened her eyes and watched the colors as the sun finally dipped to touch the horizon, flames in the sky mirroring the burning brownie in front of her, and mourned for all she had lost.

[fletchermundungus]

At Home in Hackney

LOCATION: Hackney, London DATE: March 23rd, 1982 CHARACTERS: Mundungus, Cleometra and Calypso Fletcher

It was no cold spectral hand passing through him, or poking fork that woke Mundungus up, but an heavy weight settling on his chest and meowing right into his ear.

“Oi!” he shouted at the stray, a half-kneazle half-cat. It was both the usual reaction to any of creature’s antics and the short form of its full name Oi, watcha doing ya cursed beast.

Yet, for all of Mundungus’ attempts to get the cat off his chest, it was the banging on the door that managed to have it leap back onto the windowsill and then out the window. As if the little fellow had also recognised to whom that heavy hand belonged to.

“Get up, I ain’t keeping ye breakfast warm,” Mundungus’ grandmother shouted. “And wash up before ya come in the kitchen, ya don’t want yer mum seeing ya like that.”

A grunting noise was his only reply as he turned on the other side, blanket shifted to cover him completely, but he knew better than stay underneath it no matter how warm and comfortable it was there. He was still in a daze, more asleep than awake, as he got up from the bed in his childhood bedroom and walked to the bathroom. It was his face reflected back at him to fully wake him up, on it proof that there were things he couldn’t simply shrug or laugh off. And as any good thief, Mundungus made sure to get rid of it before anyone else could catch him with it. The cold water and lavender soap helped with that, erasing most traces of the previous night from it. Yet, they couldn’t erase everything. His eyes were still a bit red and his muscles felt sore, but he could lie to himself that this wasn’t different than any other morning after a wild night at the pub.

With a cigarette already lit between his lips, and old but clean clothes on him, Mundungus joined his grandmother in the small kitchen of the house he and his mother had both grown up in. 

“Goodmorning, nan,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Yea, yea, all sweet now,” she lamented, even though she did not push him away, “after coming here a mess. What if yer mum had seen ya? Ya would’ve scared her and she would be fussing it about all night.” 

“While ya only fuss about in the morning,” he teased her, grabbing the slice of bagel as it came out from the toaster.

“Don’t be cheeky with me, now, and sit. Why are ya always standing up?” She pulled out a chair for him and pushed him to sit down. Taller than him by three inches and even more willful, Cleometra knew how to boss her grandson around. “Don’t try running away before ya tell me what’s going on and why ya came home looking like that.” Her hand patted his shoulder, in a small gesture of reassurance, but underneath it Mundungus tensed as he was reminded of the face he had seen in the mirror only moments before.

“Nothing...” he said, sheepishly, and tried to focus all his attention and energy on putting butter on the bagel. 

The cigarette was snatched from his lips and it found itself between her fingers. 

“Speak up. I can never understand a word ya say when you mumble like that,” she scolded him.

A pout appeared on his face immediately. A childish yet vulnerable look on him.  “I said.. it’s nothing,” he repeated, making sure not to fall into the temptation of mumbling each word as it came out of his mouth. But his grandmother didn’t seem convinced, and he only had to dare a quick glance her way to see the sceptical expression on her face even through the thin veil of the cigarette smoke now that she was the one smoking it.

 “I.. I had this big job lined up..” so far so good, yet his voice broke again into a mumble as he went on, “..and.. it kinda.. fell.. through..” It was embarrassing to admit this to her. She wasn’t simply his grandmother. She was his mentor and the person he aspired to be when it came to his career as a thief and con-man. There had been moments when he had wanted to show off to her what he had been able to achieve with Lu’s help, having a muggleborn roaming around the British pureblood society like one of them. How even those that would be horrified to know the truth, nay especially them, were so in love with Lu and would do anything for a scrap of their time. 

But Mundungus never had the chance to tell her. It was meant to be a secret, and then most of the work had been Lu, innit? They were the one with the charisma and the talent to keep the ruse up and have everyone drinking from the palm of their muggleborn hand. He hadn’t done much. Forged the papers and coached them on who was who, making sure there wouldn’t be any big blunders.  

“Well, so?” Cleometra asked, once the silence between them had stretched for far too long. “Did the mark make ya? Are the minnies after ya?”

Chewing his breakfast, Mundungus shook his head. No one was after him and all that had been done to him the night before, he had been the one to do it to himself.

“Did ya have a partner and they ran out with the score?”

The bagel almost choked him. Or at least, that’s what Mundungus would say it happened. Just bad timing.

“Ah,” Cleometra said, with the tone of someone who had figured out the problem. 

Mundungus didn’t know what would be worse, if she were to be disappointed in him or simply pitying him. He only knew that he did not have the courage to face either, feeling already ashamed to have made his way back here looking the way he had, after being left behind by another wix and having nothing to show for it, so like the coward he was he didn’t dare to look at her.

“Mundus!” His mother called him with genuine cheer in her voice. Her arms embraced him without restraint and engulfed him into a warm hug. “My baby is here,” she sang, as her lips peppered his cheeks with kisses.

“Mum. Mum... Mum! I can’t breathe,” he protested, but he wasn’t pushing her away with conviction. “I’m also thirty.. I think it’s been some time since I’ve stopped being a baby.”

“Nonsense,” she said, cleaning his cheeks from a little rogue her kisses had left on them. “Right, mum?”

“Just sit down and eat breakfast without making so much noise, Callie,” Cleometra replied, gentle despite the roughness of her words. She passed around the food, while Calypso, having finally let go of Mundungus, started to pour the tea. “Mun,” she then called him, sharply, “ya should go visit Mrs Moskovitz and help her grandson out.”

"Whut?” The bagel fell off from Mundungus’ mouth. “Not Mrs Moskovitz. Ugh, why?”

“Oh, that would be so nice, wouldn’t it, Mundus,” Calypso commented, adding the milk to their teas. “Which grandson is this? The solicitor or the healer?”

“You know why,” his grandmother gave him a determined look, “and this one is the healer. The solicitor married and moved to Banchory.”

“Hadn’t he gone to America? New Jersey or something like that?”

“That’s her sister, mum,” Mundungus kept his gaze on his grandmother, having gone back to a pout, “and I don’t want to be involved in your feud with Mrs Moskovitz. Plus, she’ll know right away what I’m there for.”

“Nonsense, why would she know?” Cleometra scoffed at the idea. “That woman has the brain of a drunken chicken. And even if she did, ya know how to get around her and get me that recipe.”

“Mum, that’s not very nice,” Calypso pouted as she scolded her own mother. “And are you still fighting with Mrs Moskovitz? It’s been years.. And it can’t be the sister, didn’t she marry a MacFusty?”

“Well that drunken chicken is gonna bore me to death detailing all her grandchildren’s accomplishments. No, that was Miss Lee.”

"Well, it’s very true, dear, and I don’t care how long it has been: that woman stole me recipe and I want it back. And her sister eloped with that Italian, her brother married a MacFusty, and Mrs Lee moved to New Jersey,” she said, ending that discussion with a knock on the table. “Now, Mun, once you’re in that hag’s house...”

“That can’t be, mum,” Calypso protested, refusing to end it there. “And Mundus, honey, you can still go and just spend time with our neighbours.”

Mundungus joined in, only in part because he wanted to have his grandmother forget everything about her plans to send him to spy on Mrs Moskovitz. “No, no, it was the brother that eloped with the Italian... and I don’t want to spend time with the neighbours. The neighbours are boring.”

All throughout their conversation, his grandmother kept stealing his cigarettes every time he lit one and his mother kept running her fingers through his hair. By the end of the morning, Mundungus’ presence at Mrs Moskovitz had been secured with an owl,  a plan had been formed for him to search the witch’s house to look for the stolen recipe, and they had figured out who had moved to New Jersey, who had eloped with an Italian wix, and who had married a MacFusty.

As he put down the last word for that day The Daily Prophet’s crossword, Mundungus knew that in that small moment spent in that small kitchen, he was truly happy even if he was not completely fine.

[demigodsanswer]

Clarisse and the Labyrinth

While she had been on a mission from Chiron to investigate the Labyrinth in Manhattan, she hadn’t been planning to actually enter the maze. She ended up stuck in the maze relatively unprepared. She had her backpack with her, which had nectar, ambrosia, and enough food and water to barely last her a week if she very carefully rationed it. But she knew she needed to get out. 

She figured the only way out was forward once she lost the exit into Manhattan. She was the first modern demigod they knew of to enter the maze, so she didn’t know what to expect.

She ended up trapped for what felt like 9 days. Each day, she cut a strip of fabric from her shirt and tied it to her necklace to keep track. On the 8th and 9th days, all she could do was take a sip of nectar every few hours to stay alive. 

She had already had an uncountable number of monster attacks. Three of them had nearly killed her; she only barely escaped. One of the more deadly one got a good swipe at her braid, pulling her by her hair until she was able to get a hold of her knife to cut her own hair off. She was weak, tried, starving, and dehydrated. She was pretty sure she was going to die in there. 

And then she finally, finally, by the grace of something, she found a way out. She found a delta insignia and the maze opened into an abandoned building. 

The first things she noticed was that it was hot and bright. 

She stepped out of the building on weak and weary legs, and almost cried when she saw where she was. 

She was in Phenix - she was maybe two blocks from where her mother was a dance teacher. She made her way, injured and thirsty, down the street until she got there. 

She must have looked awful, because the woman working the desk clearly didn’t want to let her in. But Clarisse said she was Madeline’s daughter and asked if she was working and the woman looked shocked. She said Madeline wasn’t in, but that she would call her to pick Clarisse up. 

While she waited, Clarisse drank so much water from the fountain she thought she might throw up. The woman working the desk offered her the first aid kit or an ambulance, but Clarisse refused. She would be okay once she was home. 

She hadn’t been home since she was ten. She would turn fifteen in March. She and her mom had talked in the meantime, but they were so different in every way except their stubbornness and temper than their relationship had always felt strained. They loved each other, but they didn’t particularly like each other.

But while she was in the maze, all she could think of was how she had never told her mom what she was doing. Her mom wouldn’t understand if she died. Her mom didn’t understand demigod things. 

When her mom showed up, Clarisse saw her through the dance studio’s glass doors, and she ran out to greet her. Her mom is sobbing as soon as she sees Clarisse. Her mom, she realizes, is looking at her like she’s just come back from the dead. 

She was. “I thought you were dead!” Her mom yells. She held her tighter, “Oh baby, what did they do to you?” 

“I’m not dead,” Clarisse assured her. 

 “Chiron called me two weeks ago and told me you were missing and that you were likely dead.” 

Clarisse was crying and holding her mother too, until she realized what she said. “Two weeks ago? No, I’ve been in there for 8, maybe 9 days?” 

 Clarisse’s mom shook her head and said, “No, when they called me, they said you had already been missing for a week.” 

“What day is it?” 

“November 21st.” 

Clarisse almost fell over, and not just from exhaustion and hunger. She had gone into the labyrinth on the 1st. She had to call Chiron. 

“Can we go home? I’ll explain everything there.” 

Clarisse isn’t sure how her mom drove home, she was crying so much. When they got to their home, Clarisse went right to her mom’s room, so to avoid her grandfather. Her grandfather was sick with dementia, and Madeline hadn’t told him that they thought Clarisse was dead - she didn’t want to until she decided to have a funeral. So she didn’t want him to see Clarisse torn up and injured. She told Clarisse to take a shower and put on her robe, she would go to Walmart and get her something to wear and eat. 

When her mom left she called Chiron, not bothering to shower first. 

Chiron looked like he might pass out when he saw her. 

When he asked what happened, Clarisse thought she might break down. Thinking of the things she fought, the number of times she almost died for the first time was a lot to handle. 

She’s always been someone to wear her emotions on her face if she didn’t consciously control them, so Chiron could tell she had been through something traumatic. He told her she didn’t have to tell them yet. 

The one thing she did tell him was that it was nearly unsurvivable. “I survived the sea of monsters and my father. If I barely lived, few others will too. If Luke is sending demigods in there, I don’t think we have much to worry about yet. Not unless they find a way to navigate it.”

Then she told him that she wouldn’t be going back in. “I can’t do that again. I won’t survive again.” 

He says he completely understands and that he will arrange for a flight to take her back to camp. 

“I’m not coming back. At least not right away. I’m staying in Phoenix. At least until the new year. I haven’t been home in four years,” then she started to cry despite her efforts. “All I could think of while I was in there, dying, was that I hadn’t seen my mother in years. I miss my mom. You should have seen how she looked at me. Like I was back from the dead. I can’t ... I can’t come back right now. I need to stay here. And heal. Not just physically.” 

Chiron nodded, understanding. He assured her that when she wanted to come back, they would arrange for it. “Sherman has been running your cabin. He refused to burn your shroud last week when it had been two weeks since we had last heard from you.” 

That made Clarisse smile. “He’s always been on my side. Tell him he’s in charge until I come back. Tell them I’m alive and okay. But tell them not to call me. I can’t ... not right now.” 

Chiron understood that too. “They’ll be happy to know that you’re okay.” 

Clarisse just sniffled and thanked him, She said that she would try and investigate the opening she had found and see if she could close it. Chiron thanked her for that, and then told her to get some rest, and call if she needed anything. 

Clarisse spends most of the time in the shower, scrubbing off grime. When her mom got home, she changed into pajamas and fell asleep on the couch until her mother woke up up to eat something. 

The two of them pretty much cried the entire day, with it coming in short bursts. Clarisse tells her mom that she wants to stay, and her mother cries and tells her to stay for as long as she wants. 

The first two weeks are great. They hardly fight (and when they do, it’s low stakes and just the result of their temperaments), and Clarisse likes getting to spend time with her grandfather.  

But in the third week, early in December, she’s investigating the opening to Labyrinth, and she finds Chris. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck me, fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck.” she mutters to herself as she walks up to him. 

When she gets closer, she realizes that he doesn’t recognize her - in fact, he doesn’t seem to recognize anything. He’s insane, she realizes. 

She brings him home before he can be arrested and institutionalized. She calls Chiron, and realizes that the fates have decided that her vacation is over. It’s time to get back to work. 

It takes over two weeks for them to figure out how to get him back to camp. He couldn’t get on a plane, and a long car ride with a madman seems like a bad idea. A flying chariot isn’t ideal - he might panic and try and jump. 

For the two weeks Chris lives with them, Clarisse and her mom start to call their house “the asylum” because of her grandfather and Chris. Twice, Chris forgot how to speak English, and her grandfather heard him speaking Spanish and called 911 claiming there was an “illegal” in his home. Clarisse had to hide in her room with him, trying to keep him quiet. She learned that if he was watching Star Wars, he would pretty much be quiet for the duration of the film.

Finally, Beckendorf and Lee Fletcher designed a larger sized chariot, meant for four, with one section enclosed and comfortable for Chris to rest in. They decide that Will will travel with them to help keep Chris calm and maybe heal him. it would be Chris, Pollux, Will, and Clarisse on the chariot. 

"You should find a way to get a portable DVD player. He likes Star Wars,” she told them.

They manage to get him back with only mild struggle. When she gets back, she learns that Annabeth and Percy had a few hunters have gone on a quest. 

Chiron asks Chris if he remembers anything, if he remembers why he was in the Labyrinth. When Chiron hears him mention “string,” Luke’s plan becomes clear. Clarisse realizes they can’t be done with the Labyrinth. But she won’t go back in, she tells Chiron. She’s done. She’ll share what she knows, and help where she can. But she can’t - she won’t - go back in. 

Chris scares her, she admits to Will one day. They don’t know what specifically drove him mad, but it’s not hard for her to believe that it would happen. She had hardly had a good nights sleep since she got out - she had been plagued by nightmares and memories. The dark and tight spots had become triggers for anxiety. Someone accidentally turned the bathroom lights out when she was in the showers at camp and she had a full-blown panic attack. She worried she would go mad next. 

[tanoraqui]

please write more for that au its SO CRAZY GOOD i need more... youre such a brilliant write

no knowing what this was about. Please enjoy character sketches of six generations of Watsons + a couple Holmeses, courtesy of this bit of technically-original-fic-because-of-public-domain. Still not sure what I’m going to do with all these people!! 

Mycroft Holmes, 1830 - 1901

Original incarnator and namer of Sherlock Holmes

Basically to see if he could. Incarnator and academic studier of spirits. Spark, and good at it.

(Death spirits aren’t very stable bc they tend to. Um. Kill the host. Only so much you can do to restrain the nature.

Mycroft concluded that that’s bc it’s always polluted by the fear of death - pure death would be more directable

He was right? Also, I guess mildly suicidal? And did a lot of trial and error in brief experiments in hospices, even a war zone or two, over a decade or so. Personality developed based on Mycroft’s, ofc, cool-emotioned but ever-curious, and an ego the size of imperial India

So Holmes was substantial enough to manifest more or less as we know him when Watson had a panicked moment on that battlefield

John Watson, 1867 - 1891

Bearer of Sherlock Holmes, 1886 - 1891

Dutiful, mom friend, selfless, kinda all or nothing, quick decisions - good in medical emergency, sometimes impulsive/reckless, mediocre shot except at snooker, reads for fun - especially once he picks up a bookwormy demon

Trained incarnator-physician

Summoned him in a terrible moment in the war in Afghanistan(?) in 1886

The field hospital was under attack, evacuation having been interrupted by unexpected enemy maneuvers, and Dr. Watson was torn between shooting on the enemy and trying desperately to tend to patients, but there was no way out and nothing but death all around. Nothing at hand but death.

So he figured “what the hell” and summoned a spirit out of that, bound to his own body ofc, and had him kill all the enemy. Holmes offered to take some of the death out of the British wounded as he did. A friendship began.

“Listen here, Watson - war is no place for pure death!” -some discomfitted superior officer, dismissing him from the service

John didn’t fully disagree, the easiness felt wrong - but it all felt wrong. And the medical applications…

But no hospital would hire him, with a death demon and the way he flinched at sudden noises still, hands that still shook 

Holmes scented a recent death, they interrupted a police investigation, impressed them with medical knowhow + death sense (passed off as medical knowhow for the moment?)

And That’s How We Ended Up A Consulting Detective 

Died in 1891 in the course of dispelling Moriarty, a life demon and criminal mastermind - fell off a cliff, on top of him, to injure the body so bad Moriarty had to vacate

Mary Watson née Morstan, 1876 - 1929

Bearer of Sherlock Holmes, 1891 - 1914

Sensible, dutiful, decisive (good in crisis, sometimes bad choices, esp. in anger), more aware of her own faults than John but also must work harder to overcome internalized prejudices

Took up Holmes after John’s death, to (vengefully but well-intentionedly) scour any trace of Moriarty from Earth.

Often did so with Young John on her hip, bc what else are you gonna do. Could’ve gotten a nanny but didn’t have too much money and (along with Holmes) was more worried about him out of her sight than chasing murderers with them

In the early 20th centuries, she started getting overtures from the British government re: taking Holmes to war and just, you know, fucking shit up. When WWI started, she and Young John quickly devised a Plan™

Young John Watson, 1891 - 1939

Bearer of Sherlock Holmes, 1914 - 1939

Eminently practical but secretly romantic, nay, Romantic™, drinks hella respect women juice, quick-thinking

His mother started calling him “Johnny” instead of “Young John” when he was 2, but Holmes never picked it up - to Johnny’s annoyance, bc he wanted to, you know, not just be his father. They had a full argument about it, Holmes refused the juvenile nickname, but did his best to use “John” for like a week before reverting. It grew on him a little, though.

The Plan™:

Basically, the govt had slowly come around to the idea that a weak and feeble woman was in possession (ha) of one of the strongest demons in England. They (she and Young John) were sure she’d be summoned once war broke out - indeed, perhaps she was, but it was more like sounding her out and she put them off. Can’t draft a woman after all.

But clearly they’d escalate, so…fortunately, John had fallen thoroughly and mutually in love with a young American woman, who didn’t mind taking him home at all - they’d probably beaten it around the bush a little, hypotheticals, and then this…there was a bit of a tizzy tbh. John nearly fucked it up, emphasizing that he was immigrating for Holmes and not for her, no pressure on her whatsoever. Possibly they didn’t sort it out until they arrived in New York - though this did have the boat ride to do it.

But yeah: Mary released Holmes, John took him up and left the country with the govt none the wiser, Mary continues putting off the govt until the passports were thoroughly stamped…

And then America stayed out of the war long enough, and idk if “conscientious objector” was a thing but I’m sure he found some way to put it off. 

Holmes did well during the Great Influenza, at least.

Buuut they ended up consulting detecting anyway lbr. 

Shot in 1939, possibly by sniper in crowded area or at least by gunmen in unexpected attack, on a case set up by Moriarty…

Gave Holmes his death, final order to get Jillian out of here alive. 

Amelia Hunter, 1896 - 1966

Moderately wealthy New York family

Visited her second cousin in London in 1913-1914, as well as the English suffragette movement (herself a part of the American movement)

Met and fell quite in love with Johnny Watson, with a cheerful dose of “your mother is so cool.” Cheerfully helped him and his mother con the British government out of a death demon, married him once they both got their heads a little straight

Jillian Watson, 1920 - 2019

Bearer of Sherlock Holmes, 1939 - 2019

I’m not saying she swore vengeance on not just Moriarty but the entirety of Nazi Germany whom he was supporting (for fun a profit, per usual), after they killed her father in front of her - for almost certainly the express purpose of keeping Holmes out of the incipient war - but I’m also not…not saying that

Nor am I saying that she was part of the inspiration for Captain America in this ‘verse, or at least for Peggy, but I’m not not saying that either

Slightly rogue incredible combat fighter who volunteers to go fight Nazis before it’s even cool? Yeah. Yeah. Some Peggy art just straight-up looks like her, once Kirby&Lee somehow met her

Jillian Watson. How do I begin to describe Jillian Watson

Jillian Watson is a superhero. Jillian Watson is a spy. After WWII, once someone in the army decided it was better to work with her than against her, she ended up in…whatever proto-CIA they were forming at the time

Also, got married and had a kid while still on semi-desk duty

Jillian Watson is known as “Angel of Death” in 40 languages in 95 countries. Jillian Watson liberated at least one Jewish concentration camp. Jillian Watson stopped the Cold War from getting Hot at least twice - and neither time involved Cuba. She was on vacation that month.

And Holmes, obviously. They had a very solid hot/cold balance - only one was ever emotional at once

Jillian Watson has kissed a KGB agent, killed a king, and met nearly every US President from Truman through Reagan. She liked Eisenhower best. Carter downright annoyed her, and she nearly had a shouted argument with LBJ, though they also exchanged a handful of letters

Jillian Watson probably helped bring down the government in Iran in the 70s

Jillian Watson was probably not a great mother. She was too busy chasing adrenaline and maybe glory. 

They liaised with the FBI, too, as it grew, and shifted to their Spiritual Crimes Division completely in the late 60s/early 70s, when age was starting to really catch up with her - a death spirit can keep away infections and viruses, but not the simple wear and tear of age and adventure

When the AIDS crisis hit, Marcus put them in contact with people and Jillian Watson once more became known as the Angel of Death, this time for bringing mercy

Retired age 80 (2000), under duress. Still did some consulting. 

Liz was an option, but she was already getting on, and maybe irritated not to have gotten Holmes before (and/or maybe growing out of that desire anyway?) Manuel was a candidate, but Holmes needed a lot of talking around - and it didn’t matter yet, bc neither of them wanted to be parted. Neither could quite forget losing her father (or hte original John Watson) and Holmes meant to stick it out, and Jillian had no intention of retiring that much

Eventually got some quite contacts - nay, friends! - among elderly in her area to engage in consensual euthenasia now and then. Supplemented by hanging out in morgues and cemeteries and buying and killing a TON of plants, and sometimes mice.

Went on a lot of protest marches in retirement

Marcus Watson, 1920 - 2005

Twin of Jillian

Gay

Settled down with a lovely partner (Henry White) sometime in the 50s in NYC, where they lived for the rest of their lives

Not particularly interested in the life of a consulting detective/incarnator. Didn’t mind, but got squeamish, and just…didn’t enjoy being in danger. John took him on a couple cases but Jillian was the one who wanted to go, to know, even when they were kids, and he was happy to let her. Born to be a house husband.

He and his Henry were fully exclusive, neither got AIDS - but they lost a lot of friends. Practically, he turned Jillian and Holmes on to the crisis, connected her with people who knew people

Jeremiah Fletcher, 1918 - 2000

Married Jillian Watson in 1946

Fell in love when she broke him out of a German prison in 1942

African-American

Elizabeth “Liz” Watson, 1949 - 2009

Free spirit, adventurous, thought her mother (+ Holmes) was the coolest person ever, wanted to be the same. 

Legitimately badass in her own right. Joined…same service probably? They didn’t want another woman but someone intelligent resigned themselves to at least having a Watson in reserve, in case they couldn’t convince the demon to accept another host

Though, why “convince” when you can bind?

And if there’s no alternative, maybe he’ll be happy with a proper agent…

Or there was one person hiring who wasn’t a total ass, eventually

Though possibly by that time she’d decided “fuck it” and set out on her own

Basically a mercenary. Expected to inherit Holmes when her mother retired. There were some awesome mother-daughter expeditions

Got having children out of the way early - one child, at least, via a random French man in the summer of 1970. Donna from Mamma Mia energy. Jacques SomethingFrench

Tension with her mother (and Holmes) grew as Jillian continued to not retire and Holmes…tried to look after them both tbh. Liz hated being cosetted

Heart attack age 60, slightly adrenaline-induced but relatively tame - hiking or something; maybe surfing. Died quickly in hospital

Therese Marquéz née Watson, 1971 - present

Resented being left behind with her grandfather (Jeremiah) or great-uncle or just nannies while he mother gallivanted around the globe, but nor did she personally enjoy gallivanting

All but refuses to carnate even a light or luck spirit

Ran away several times, permanently at age 18

Met a nice young man in police training, (him), married him quickly, had twins, happy for a while…until she got furious at him for working long hours, risking his life, not giving her the domestic bliss and picket fence life she’d imagined 

Also, he got along with her family, which she couldn’t stand

Didn’t even wait for him to come home, just left the twins with Manuel’s sister’s family and left

Has come to see them a couple times, called on birthdays usually, but in general is a mediocre person

Manuel Marquéz, 1970 - 2012

Husband of Therese

A Good Man

V aware of how the world is shitty but wanted to make it better anyway

Whirlwind romance with a beautiful but mysterious girl while he was in police training, had twins, thought he was achieving the American Dream until it turned out his wife was bristling with resentment and straight-up left one night while he was on shift

Prior to that, Jillian and Holmes randomly showed up at least once to see the twins, having heard from Marcus that they existed (the only family member Therese told; the only one she stayed in much contact with)

They got along great - he took her snappishness in stride, they shared a slightly cynical sense of humor and desire to do good nonetheless. Got talking about police investigations and procedure, he wanted to invite her back except Therese couldn’t STAND it, so they didn’t

But when he lost Therese, he reached out - because fuck you, but also, so the kids could know that side of their family, and by then Jillian had also settled down in southern CA probably? 

Dog person

Shot on the job when his kids were a year into college

David Marquéz, 1991 - present

Twin of Vanessa. Normal. Down-to-earth, B or B+ student, liked some sports, had friends, went to state college - Jillian offered to help pay for both twins, Manuel accepted bc that shit’s tough, especially two at once

Amiably disinterested in spiritual stuff - doesn’t mind, is more or less blasé about the whole Death Spirit thing - acts blase, at least; is actually kind of uncomfortable. But doesn’t want to be his mother, and so habitually doesn’t make a big deal of it, or of anything. Mediator.

Met a nice Jewish girl in college (Hannah Steinbeck) (himself tentatively, idly Catholic from the Marquéz side), dated her all through, followed her back to Boston to get a job…idk, something on computers. Coder?

Loudly insists (technically factually) that he’s the older brother, but to his credit has solid energy for it: responsible, stolid, reliable, Will fight if given cause. 

But also, DID cheerfully leave his sister to be primary local caretaker to their elderly great-grandmother and her death spirit, not long after their father’s death. Will put his hands over his ears and talk loudly while walking away from stressful situations

Strong-ish but apathetic carnator

Vanessa “Vinnie” Marquéz/Watson, 1991 - present

Bearer of Sherlock Holmes, 2019 ongoing

BSN from idk

Thinks SHE’S the responsible one, particularly after David moved to Boston

Got along well with her father; he always supported her desire to go into medicine to help people. Really looked up to him, considered that career - but he urged her to be more actively helping life than just stopping death/crime (wanted better for his kids)

Always fully aware that good cops like her dad are rare; kind of illogically despises the whole institution since his death

(WAS that, too, arranged by Moriarty? Question for another day)

Likes Great British Bake-Off but CANNOT bake; likes Project Runway and other fashion shows and does, actually, have good fashion sense (just insufficient money to fulfill it). Sews well. Talks to cloth like it’s a patient

Lesbian! 

Roommate is Darby, also a nurse, they/them. Together they’ll totally be like, *Leslie Knope voice* “Tragically, we are romantically incompatible*

First case happens literally in the apartment 3 stories down

I’m not saying she’s gonna kiss that FBI agent before it’s over but i’m sure as hell saying she’ll THINK about it

Also will get ⅔ of the way to telling Holmes to kill her and get the civilians out before backup arrives

[villagetv]

ACCEPTANCES !

okay  yall,  here  it  is  !  i  seriously  had  such  a  hard  time  deciding  between  all  of  these  apps  because  every  single  one  of  them  was  amazing  to  read  and  so  wonderful.  i  wish  i  could  accept  everyone  !  but  seriously,  i  just  want  to  thank  you  all  for  the  hard  work  you’ve  done,  and  for  applying  at  all.  i  did  not  think  in  my  wildest  dreams  that  this  group  was  going  to  get  this  many  applications,  but  i’m  so  glad  it  did  and  i’m  so  inspired  by  all  the  people  who  went  above  and  beyond  in  their  applications.  i  literally  loved  every  one  that  i  got,  and  it  was  nearly  impossible  to  choose  for  me.  you  all  should  feel  proud  of  your  work  whether  or  not  you’re  accepted.  again,  thank  you  so  so  so  much  <3

below  the  cut  are  the  list  of  acceptances,  with  my  (slightly  rambly)  comments.  accepted  applicants  will  have  24  hours  to  send  in  their  accounts.  after  that,  i  will  be  going  through  the  remaining  applicants  for  that  spot  before  opening  it  for  new  applications  !  as  accounts  are  sent  in  i’ll  be  sending  out  the  discord  link. again,  i  love  you  all  so  much  and  thank  you  for  bearing  with  me  through  this. 

MUSE A: NAOMI AHN has been cast in the role of ZOEY LEE ( mun: zia ! )

zia, you are an amazing writer! when i read your bios for naomi and zoey, i was in AWE at not only your skills, but also the way that every piece of information added something important to understanding both of their characters. to me, they embody the drive and competitive spirit of muse a, but added super interesting twists on the characters. i’m excited to see where you take naomi and zoey, and i can’t wait to rp with you!

MUSE B: PALOMA VIDAL has been cast in the role of VALENTINA ROMERO ( mun: izzy ! )

izzy, all of the apps for muse b were amazing -- hands down the best group of apps for any muse, so this decision was super difficult. but for me, your app really stood out because you approached muse b in a different way. reading your biography for her, i felt like you really understood the real person behind the spotlight that seems to shine on muse b. and paloma? WOW. i absolutely love the character you’ve created, and every muse post, headcanon and edit proved that (those promo posters? AMAZING.) overall, you did a fantastic job and i can’t wait to see where you go with paloma!

MUSE C: JUDE MADSEN-WELLS has been cast in the role of BROOKS BENNETT ( mun: b ! )

b, the minute i finished reading your application, i said “we have our muse c!” the bio was so well thought out (and i loved the format, i thought it was beyond cute!) not only do i love harry styles, but i love jude -- and i can’t wait to see how his personality influences his character and vice versa. when writing the bones of muse c, i got a little worried because it is the type of character that can get stereotypical or unbelievable without care or thought put into it, but every detail you brought with the muse posts really solidified to me that you understand muse c. there are no doubts in my mind you’ll play this character beautifully! 

MUSE D: GABRIEL ALEXANDER has been cast in the role of PHILLIP LOGAN ( mun: mimi ! )

mimi, reading your application i felt super excited to see what you are going to do next with gabe, and that excitement kind of mirrors his character to me! you gave me just enough to keep me guessing, but within that you gave me a strongly defined character with the little things that make a person who they are. i also really loved your take on muse d and it was exactly what i imagined. amazing job! 

MUSE F: WILLIAM LAWTON has been cast in the role of JAMES CONROY ( mun: amanda ! )

amanda, both(!!) of your apps were incredible. i’m heartbroken i can’t accept you for both muses honestly, because the effort that you put in was above and beyond, and i really went back and forth for a long time. however, one thing that was never in doubt was that you belong in this group, and i was ultimately so happy to accept your app for muse f! will is already such a quirky, dynamic character and his backstory was by FAR the most imaginative and original one i saw in any app. and your interpretation of muse f was spot-on! one thing that particularly struck me was the quote “james conroy is good at heart” because that’s so essential to his character, and it’s something that was missing from other apps. thank you so much for your dedication and i can’t wait to see you on the dash!

MUSE G: PAYTON JAMES HARLOW has been cast in the role of HARPER HAYES ( mun: ali ! )

ali, this app was absolutely the most fun to read because it was so incredibly detailed and thought out. i know you said i didn’t have to read everything but i totally wanted even more! with the timelines and the family background included, i literally felt like i was reading not only about payton but about her entire universe and that made me scream because i was so excited!! what absolutely clinched your application for me was your interpretation of muse g because it was just so? right? gahhh i’m rambling but i’m so happy with this application and so excited to rp with you!

MUSE H: HARVEY STRATHMORE has been cast in the role of MATTI JAMES ( mun: riley ! )

riley, the work that you put into this app is astounding to me! everything about harvey shines off the page, and all the details you added made him feel living and breathing. he’s such a unique character and i’m really looking forward to seeing where you decide to take him! i especially loved the edits you provided as i thought they were super creative. now muse h is my baby of all the muses, and so i was really worried i wasn’t going to find anyone who i thought could strike the right balance with him. but your app literally embodied how i feel about muse h, like i had to check i didn’t write it myself. it was incredible! congratulations and i’m excited to write with you!

MUSE I: YANG JAEBIN has been cast in the role of FLETCHER PARK ( mun: sarah ! )

sarah, i really enjoyed your app and your interpretation of muse i! i think it’s really perfect and i love the symbiosis that jaebin and fletcher have. looking at your pinterest board really solidified for me that you had a strong grasp on both your muse and the character they play, and i can’t wait to see what you do with both of them! congratulations :-)

MUSE J: HONOR CLARKE-MONTGOMERY has been cast in the role of CASSIE HWANG ( mun: victoria ! )

this was definitely the hardest decision i had to make tonight, because all the apps were absolutely fantastic. i loved reading every single character you all came up with -- honor is no exception. with her incredibly detailed backstory, stats, and muse posts, i was in awe of how well you portrayed her. but victoria, your interpretation of muse j was just so perfect! it wasn’t exactly the way i’d pictured her when i had first imagined the skeletons, but now that i’ve read your app i literally can’t picture her any other way. you understood her in a way that the other apps (and even me!!) didn’t. and cassie’s deeper similarities with honor... chef’s kiss! i’m so ecstatic that you’ve applied and i can’t wait to see what you do with honor. 

MUSE K: KAIA BURKE has been cast in the role of LARA LAMBE ( mun: v ! )

v, i fell in love with kaia and lara while reading your app, and that’s how i knew it had to be you! you really understood the charismatic energy of muse k and brought it to the forefront. i absolutely loved the muse blog you created! reading her backstory was awesome, but then looking at the magazine edits you created? the timeline of all her films? the awards she’s received? oh my gosh, it was amazing. thank you for bringing this vision to life so perfectly!

MUSE L: ATLAS GREENE has been cast in the role of XAVIER HASTINGS ( mun: deven ! )

deven, i was totally blown away by this app! muse l was definitely one of the skeletons that was most mysterious to me and i was expecting to see a lot of different interpretations. i absolutely LOVED yours (especially all your muse posts! so perfect), and i think in your hands muse l has so much potential. and atlas!! i love him as a character, he’s completely different from any other app i received and i’m so excited to see where you take him. but even further than that i can clearly see all the blood, sweat, and tears you put into him, and it paid off. i’m so excited to see you on the dash!

[i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind]

To Forgive and Forget - Chapter Two

Here's chapter 2. Still setting things up in this chapter. Should be getting more into things in chapter 3. Hope you enjoy though and I would love to hear what you think! 

It was only minutes before the first wave of emergency services arrived on the scene. Jane had opted to wait out front for them. She had been physically ill on the front lawn, both from the scene she had just witnessed, and also from the flashbacks her memory was serving her. Tasha had cuffed Anna Lee and led her outside. Kurt had taken it upon himself to watch the six children inside the house until social services arrived. 

The NYPD were the first on the scene. Kurt quickly debriefed them, before they made their way down the trap door. The paramedics arrived next,  followed quickly by social services. The EMTs joined the NYPD in extracting the kids from the basement, while social services took care of the healthier children. They would each be taken to get checked over by a doctor, before being placed in a different home.

Kurt came out to join his wife. She was pale and withdrawn.  She hadn't said a word since they had left the basement. He had watched her being sick from the kitchen window, and his chest ached that he couldn't fix this for her.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, standing as close to her as possible, while maintaining a sense of professionalism. 

"I'm ok." she replied, her voice hoarse. "How could anyone do this?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears. "How could someone do this to children?" 

Kurt shook his head.

"I don't know." he whispered.

She deflated.

"So what happens now?" she asked, wiping her face.

"They'll more than likely be put into a rehabilitation centre… and then when they're better they'll be placed in a different home."

Jane took a steadying breath.

"They're going to be so broken." She said sadly.

Kurt nodded.

"They will get the help that they need."

"They shouldn't need it in the first place!" she said vehemently. "How did the system fail so badly, that they let a monster like her have so many kids?"

"I would say there's something larger at play here…" Kurt replied. "As for now, we have a missing child to find." 

Jane nodded and followed him to the SUV. Zapata had taken Anna Lee back to the FBI, where she was waiting to be interrogated. 

**************************************

The ride back to the FBI was one of silence. Jane could feel Kurt's tension radiating off of him in waves.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, her own voice still shaky. Even though she was struggling herself, she knew that Kurt had trouble with cases about missing kids. 

He glanced across at his wife and sighed.

"Her name is Tyler, Jane." he said quietly. "It's too close."

"Maybe we should both sit this one out." Jane suggested, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. "I think maybe we are both too close to this… too emotionally involved.

"No." Kurt said adamantly. "The fact that we are both close to this makes us the perfect people for the job."

Jane opened her eyes and stared up at her husband. She reached across and grabbed his hand.

"Ok." she whispered. "But we are going to have to support each other through this."

He met her eyes for a moment, then stared back at the road. Jane took that as a sign of acknowledgement. She was going to have to keep a close eye on him.

**********************

Anna Lee wasn't talking.

Jane and Kurt had taken point on the interrogation, but so far she was yet to utter a single word. 

"Where's the girl?" Kurt asked again. "Come on Anna Lee, you're going to prison for a very long time. Why not help yourself and tell us where the girl is? We can cut you a deal."

Anna Lee answered by rolling her eyes. 

 Kurt frowned and closed her file.

"Fine. Have it your way."

He glanced at his wife. In unison they stood and left the interrogation room. They walked around the corner to find Reade standing behind the two way mirror.

"How do we get her to talk?" Reade asked. "She's already lost everything. We don't have a squeezing point "

"I don't know." Jane said dejectedly. "Maybe we need to talk to someone else - or several someone's."

Kurt raised his eyebrow.

"Who?"

Jane shrugged.

"Fletcher and the other kids."

Kurt nodded, taking a breath in through his nose.

"Fletcher said Tyler was taken by one of Anna Lee's friends… which means he has probably seen him."

Reade nodded.

"Go." he said. "I'll get Patterson to send you the details on where the kids are."

*********************

The kids were still being seen to at the hospital. Jane and Kurt walked into the A&E to find a very upset Fletcher.

"Hey bud." Kurt said, taking a seat beside him on the gurney. "What's going on?"

Fletcher responded by bursting into tears.

"We just want to take a little blood." the nurse said. She looked like she had had a rough day.

"It's really not so bad!" Jane said kindly. "It only hurts a little bit… and not for very long."

Fletcher shook his head. 

"I don't want it!!" he wailed.

The nurse looked at the agents exasperated.

"What if I go first hmm?" Jane asked, crouching down in front of him. She glanced up at the nurse who gave a small nod in confirmation. Fletcher wiped his face on the back of his hand.

"Ok…" he whispered.

Jane took her jacket off and rolled up her sleeve. She caught Kurt's smirk out of the corner of her eye and shot him a sly look. She was a big softy and she knew he couldn't get enough of it. Kurt stood and she sat down beside Fletcher, holding out her arm. The nurse tied a tourniquet around her forearm, before rubbing an alcohol wipe in the crook in her elbow and inserting the needle into her vein. 

Jane looked at Fletcher and saw him staring with wide eyes up at her.

"It doesn't hurt?" he asked.

"Only a teeny tiny bit." Jane replied. 

The nurse removed the needle and placed a small plaster on her tattooed skin.

"All done." Jane said, putting her jacket back on. "You're turn." 

Fletcher nodded and held his arm out, just like Jane had. The nurse got to work quickly, before he could change his mind.

"Why do you have drawings all over your arm?" Fletcher suddenly asked.

"They're called tattoos." Jane said.

"They're pretty." Fletcher replied and Kurt smiled. He couldn't get over how innocent the child was.

"I think they're pretty too." Kurt said, grinning at his wife." 

"I want drawings on my arm too." Fletcher said, smiling softly.

"There you go." the nurse said, "You're all finished." 

Fletcher looked down at his arm, to find a bright green plaster stuck to his skin.

"That wasn't so bad!" he said grinning.

The nurse looked appreciatively at the agents before leaving the cubicle.

"We wanted to thank you for being so brave and telling us about the other children." Kurt said, sitting back beside the boy.

"That's ok." Fletcher said. "My mom said policemen were heroes like spiderman. So I knew I could tell you." he said, picking at his pants. "But she's in heaven now." he continued sadly. "I miss her heaps sometimes." 

Jane felt her heart break for this wee boy. He was the sweetest little thing and she wished that she could fix every heartbreak he would ever have.

"We were wondering if you could help us again?" Kurt asked quietly.

Fletcher nodded. 

"We want to find Tyler. We were wondering if you could tell us about her and the man that took her."

Fletcher straightened up, feeling very important that the police were asking for his help.

"Tyler is my bestest friend." he started. "She is six like me!" 

"What colour hair does she have?" Jane asked.

"She has hair like mine!" he said, pointing to his light brown hair. "But hers is really long." 

"Do you remember what colour her eyes are?" Jane asked.

Fletcher screwed up his face, trying to remember. "No but if you want to know what she looks like, there is a picture in Miss Anna's hallway."

"Thank you Fletcher." Kurt said smiling. "What about the man who took her? Can you tell us what he looks like?"

Fletcher frowned, trying to remember.

"He had a big bushy beard." he said slowly. "And he spoke funny."

Jane smiled at him, rubbing him on the shoulder. 

"Thank you Fletcher." she said again. "You've been very brave and very helpful!"

Fletcher grinned. 

"I hope you find her… I miss her." 

Jane and Kurt shared a look.

"Me too bud." Kurt said after a moment. "You be good ok?" he said, ruffling the child's hair.

"I'm always good." Fletcher replied matter of factly. 

Jane grinned. 

"We will see you again." she said.

"Bye bye." Fletcher said, swinging his legs back and forward. 

Kurt and Jane smiled at him one more time, before leaving the cubicle. 

When they were in the hallway, Jane's face fell.

"That poor boy." she whispered softly. "Poor all of them. None of them deserve this." 

"No they don't." Kurt agreed. They walked in silence back to the car. "I better call Patterson and fill her in." he said, once they were seated.

Jane nodded and watched him dial Patterson's number.

She answered on the third ring. Kurt flicked her onto speaker phone so they could both talk to her.

"How did you get on at the hospital?" she asked.

"Good." Kurt replied. He started relaying the information they had gathered back to her. "We are gonna head back to Anna Lee's house to find this picture of Tyler… at least this way we will know who we are looking for."

"Ok." Patterson replied. "What about the man who took her?" 

"Fletcher said he had a beard and spoke funny…" Jane said. "I'm wondering if he has ties to the Irish Mob."

"I was thinking the same thing." Kurt added. "Patterson, dig up everything you can on the mob. See if you can find any ties in conjunction with Anna Lee. There had to be a reason she was charged in the first place."

"On it." Patterson responded. "Send me a picture of Tyler when you get it and I will put out a missing person's." she added.

"Will do." Kurt acknowledged. "We'll see you back at the office soon."

He disconnected the call and looked at his wife. She could see the heartbreak in his eyes.

"We will find her Kurt." she said adamantly, though she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. Surely there was going to be a happy ending to this story. There just had to be. 

Please let me know your thoughts!