#piper x thalia

[huntingrays]

pjo soulmate au:

soulmate au where everyone has the name of their soulmate written on them, but it’s just their soulmate’s last name

when piper and leo first met, they became fast friends. part of this was to do with them getting along so well, but another part was due to them having the same soulmark. they would always joke around about it, wondering if they either shared this ‘grace’ person of if they’d be with siblings

turns out, the latter was true… but they guessed the wrong sibling

the moment they met (or rather ‘met’) jason and learned his last name, piper immediately assumed he was the one, and leo jokingly asked if he had a hot sister. when they ended up meeting the hunters much later, while on the quest, leo was very happy to find out that jason did, in fact, have a very beautiful, cool, badass older sister. the only downside was that she swore off dating

so, if they both found their soulmates, why didn’t things feel… right?

meanwhile, for years, jason was both worried and excited to meet whoever this ‘valdez’ he was fated to be with. he was anxious about it, worried about being enough for whoever his soulmate would end up being. he wasn’t expecting someone like leo. he also wasn’t expecting to wake up on a bus with amnesia and the news that he’s dating his soulmate’s best friend. he wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. piper did have his name on her… was he both of their soulmates? was one platonic and the other romantic? sure, he began to like piper… but his feelings for leo were so… different. stronger. leo made him feel… strange. he made him feel safe. he wasn’t sure when he last felt that way. he wasn’t sure how to deal with all this on top of his amnesia

thalia wasn’t a hopeless romantic. she wasn’t like annabeth, who told her in soft whispers that she dreamed of meeting this jackson, hoping they would stay with her unlike her parents. however, she also wasn’t like luke, who burned his own mark beyond recognition after finding out hermes was his mom’s soulmate. rather, she was looking forward to meeting her supposed second half, but she didn’t let it control her life. she simply took care of her friends, became a tree, went on a quest, then became a hunter, thinking she would never meet this person as the years went by. after all, she learned post-tree that ‘mclean’ wasn’t a very common name, and was the last name of a very popular (and handsome) actor. she didn’t like the idea of a man old enough to be her father being her soulmate, so she tried not to think about it. then she met piper mclean, the actor’s daughter, who was even more breathtaking and stunning than him. she met her soulmate… who was infatuated with her baby brother. now she was in a pickle. does she tell the truth, or just forget about, letting the two be together while she forgets all about the girl and continues being a hunter? or does she come clean and see where this takes them? also what’s with her baby brother keeping that leo guy close to him? what’s with the looks he shoots him, the comfort he finds in the other guy?

why the fuck did aphrodite have to toss them a such a complex soulmate situation?

[just-december-things]

Omg, what if... Thalia x Piper? Will have to consider

[mallowsweetmiri]

Headcannon:

After they defeated Gaea, Percy and Annabeth spent the week in Montauk with Paul and Sally. Percy hadn’t seen his mom in almost a year, so he nearly broke down when she gave him a hug. Sally was hysterical. Sally didn’t even bother setting up two beds for the kids, she knew they would just sneak into one room. The first night there, Annabeth woke up screaming. Sally was immediately at their bedside, asking what was wrong and trying to calm her down. She was buried in Percy’s chest crying. Percy just looked defeated as he shook his head. They wouldn’t dare to tell her where they’d really been that summer. They didn’t want to worry her any more than they already had. The next night Percy knocked on her door because he too had woken up from the terrors within his mind. He didn’t want to wake up Annabeth, so instead he and his mom sat together in the couch as she gently stroked his hair. Sally spent the week babying them and bringing them tea throughout their sleepless nights. Sometimes she could hear Percy comforting Annabeth with gentle words. Sally was proud of who he had become, and she loved Annabeth as her own. By the end of the week, both of them sleep soundly. Sometimes she would watch the two of them from the doorway just to make sure they were really there with her. It was hard being a demigod mom.

[echo-stimmingrose]

Piper: Percy, what's your type?

Percy: Annabeth

Piper: That's sweet.

Thalia: It's also a lie, his type is blonds

Percy: That's not true!

Thalia: The first person you ever had a crush on was a blond man.

Percy: I met Annabeth long before I met Jason.

Leo: *spews water* Jason???

Thalia: I was talking about Luke.

Percy: I never had a crush on Luke!?!

Thalia: That's bullshit.

Leo: Are we gonna talk about the Jason thing or... No....? Okay.

Percy: No it's not!

Connor: It most definitely is.

Percy: What?

Travis: You blushed every time you were around him.

Percy: I- I did not!

Clarisse: Yeah you did.

Percy: No....?

Nico: Even the way you talked about him sometimes I could tell you had a crush on him at one point.

Percy: *flabbergasted* I- I huh???

Percy: Did I????

Annabeth: *walks over* Hey Perce can you- What did you guys do to him?

Percy: *wide eyed staring at the ground, mumbling incoherently*

Thalia: He's having an existential crisis, give him a minute.

[arte-rose]

Grover Underwood multiverse 💚

[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ᴏ. ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴀᴘᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ

You find out reincarnation actually exists the hard way and sort of maybe go through the five stages of grief?

Your death comes to you in the most embarrassing way on your thirteenth birthday.

On your way home from school, you had decided to take the long route and found yourself walking across the edge of a bridge, arms held out to help you keep balance and your mind somewhere far away.

Unfortunately for you, though, your far away thoughts cost you your focus, so you failed to remember that it had rained last night, and the bridge was still wet from the storm's assault in result.

All in all, your realization came too late in the form of you slipping and falling into dark, deep, rushing water that sung with triumph when your form fell into its embrace and sunk into its depths.

Death didn't last long, luckily enough, but that was only because you somehow opened your eyes just after closing them in acceptance of your inevitable end.

Needless to say, when you woke up—expecting either the gates of Heaven, the fiery pits of Hell, or perhaps nothing—to find yourself staring up into the eyes of two women you had never seen before in your life, you were pretty confused.

One of the women, who just so happened to be holding you, for some reason, had [S/t] skin, long, [H/c] hair, and fox-like [E/c] eyes that stared down at you with such pure adoration, you nearly did a double take to see if maybe your eyes weren't working as well as they used to due to, you know ... dying.

The other woman was quick to take your focus from the other one, though, and that was probably because of the fact that she had horns and goat ears??

Maybe you were right about your eye sight, after all. It clearly must've had something wrong with it now, if you were starting to see people with horns and goat ears.

"[Y/n] ..." The whisper of your name makes you return your attention to the woman holding you, and she smiles down at you, emitting a sort of warmth that had you snuggling closer to her before you could even think of stopping yourself. The action seems to please her, because her smile grows and she pulls you closer, placing a kiss atop your head.

You hear the other woman chuckle, the noise fond and just as warm as the presence of the one holding you, and then watch her from the corner of your eye as she draws closer and slips her arm beneath you, wanting to cradle you as well.

"Welcome to our world, little one," you hear her say, and with their combined warmth, you can only keep your eyes open for so long before exhaustion consumes you once again.

(In the back of your mind, the horned woman's words echo; "Welcome to our world"—something meant only to be a greeting to the new being they've brought to life, yet despite this, you can't help but feel as though it also alludes to something deeper.

But for now, sleep comes first, and you promise yourself that you'll only feel semi-disappointed when you wake up and learn this was all only a dream.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You're going to lose your shit.

It was not a dream. This is not a dream.

You end up balling your eyes out for hours. The two women you had thought to be mere figments of your imagination (your new parents, apparently) panic throughout the entire ordeal and do everything they can to get you to stop, but for as bad as you feel for making them worry, you just can't stop because you were dead you were supposed to be dead how is this even possible—

The only peace they get is when you're asleep, but even then, those moments can only last for so long before the nightmares—the memories have your eyes shooting open to fill with tears in seconds, and then the cycle starts all over again.

Your parents (no they're not they can't be yours and you can't be theirs oh god do they even know what's happened to you back home what happened to your body) are, understandably, very concerned. Since coming home, you've done nothing but cry and cry and cry, and nothing they do can get you to stop. They've already tried taking you to the doctor, believing for a horrifying moment that you must have been painfully ill, but the appointment only ended with the man—eyes filled with sympathy for the couple—telling them that you're actually perfectly healthy.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that there isn't anything that I can do to help you," he'd said, your cries just as loud as ever and making the [E/c]-eyed woman holding you—Penelope Ophelia—gather you up from where you were sitting on her lap to rock you gently in her arms in a desperate attempt to soothe you.

"Really?" Penelope's lover, the woman the horns (that the doctor doesn't seem to notice, mind you), sent the doctor a pained, frustrated look. "Nothing at all?" she asked.

He only shook his and apologized again.

You don't know how long it's been, nor do you care. All you know is that you were dead, and then you weren't, and now all you've ever known most likely doesn't matter, because who knows if you'll ever see it again?

But then one day, as if your world couldn't be turned upside down anymore than it already has, you manage to catch Penelope's loud gasp above your crying, and then—

"Willow! I think I know why [Y/n]'s been crying!" she says, suddenly rushing over to you and lifting you up for a closer look at your head. "They have horns coming in!"

You hear someone—Willow, obviously—spit their drink out from the other room, and the shock you feel at Penelope's words turns out to be all it takes for you to finally stop crying.

'Horns'? Did you hear that right?

Clearly taking your stunned silence as a sign for whatever reason, Penelope begins to coo at you and bring you close to caress your head and kiss it, and—Oh. Oh.

You can feel them: the horns, small bumps on your head (for now), everytime Penelope's delicate hands brush over them. The movements are gentle and careful, obviously out of fear of accidentally hurting you and setting your constant crying off once more, and your mind is so caught up trying to piece together an explanation for—for all of this—that you don't even notice Willow coming into the room, a bright grin on her face as she takes in the small nubs growing from your crown and says:

"Would you look at that?" She laughs and takes you from Penelop's grasp to hold you up in the air like that monkey from The Lion King did. "Looks like I win the bet after all! Ay, little satyr?"

Willow laughs again when she sees her wife playfully roll her eyes, and you—for the first time since you've been brought to their home—remain silent while your entire world crumbles around you.

Satyr?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The Percy Jackson series was a gift to you from your grandparents on your eleventh birthday, and you've been obsessed with it ever since.

When you found yourself sighing over the boring, mundane life you lived, you would open the books and get lost in the world of Camp Half-Blood: imagining yourself as a camper, wondering who your Godly parent would be, and grinning at the idea of getting to befriend the main cast and join them on their adventures. While you were stuck inside doing homework, Percy and his friends were out fighting monsters and meeting Gods, and a part of you—the part that always longed for something more—would wish you could reach out and join them.

And now here you were, in a world clearly not like your own, and one of your new mother's is apparently a satyr.

(You are, too, but you're not really ready to process that just yet.)

It wasn't possible—it couldn't be possible. It's not like satyrs were only relevant in Percy Jackson, after all; there are plenty of stories out there that included the mythological race! You couldn't have possibly just so happened to get reborn into the world of the book series you've adored for two years! It just—it wouldn't make sense! Clearly, one of your new guardians being a satyr was a mere coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Chiron wrote to me, recently," sighs Willow as she plops down onto the couch Penelope had decided to read a book to you on. "Looks like the camp's satyr situation is a lot more serious than I thought, if he's sending me letters and asking me to help out again."

You choke on your own spit and have Penelope frantically patting your back before the woman can even respond to what her wife just revealed.

Then, when that whole ordeal's finished, Penelope lays you down in your crib after her and Willow take turns kissing your forehead, and now you're left alone to stare up at the canopy painted to the ceiling, losing yourself to your thoughts.

This ... isn't a dream. Yeah, that's been pretty obvious for a while now, but the assurance made your shoulders feel a little lighter. This isn't a dream and ... it's a lot.

You ... What should you do? You don't know how you got here, and you honestly doubt that there's a way out, so ... Again, what should you do?

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and decide, for now, to just go over what you do know:

1. You've been reborn (no duh, but sometimes you just have to repeat that to yourself to properly get it through your head).

2. Your 'parents' are two women by the name of Penelope and Willow Ophelia. Willow is a satyr, and Penelope (as far as you know) is a human.

3. Again, you've been reborn, and into the world of Percy Jackson of all places.

The bigger, more logical part of you kind of wants to start crying again. Out of literally anyone in the world—your world—why was this happening to you? Everyone you've ever known, all you've ever known, are suddenly gone, and all because you decided you wanted to walk along the edge of a stupid, slippery bridge.

It's just ... so frustrating. You were never perfect, you never wanted to be perfect, but you liked to think you were a good person, at least. What could you have done to deserve this? Who could have thought you deserved this?!

Yet, still, for as badly as you want to freak out (to cry, scream, break something) you can't deny that there's a small part of you—the part of you that always knew, even if you didn't want to fully admit it to yourself, that you could never conform to what society expected from you, that wanted nothing more than to just jump into the pages of your beloved books and live out the rest of your days in Camp Half-Blood, fighting monsters and challenging Gods—that feels just a little bit ... giddy about this. Because for as much your old family tried, for as much as they loved you, they just couldn't understand why you were the way you were; couldn't make you feel seen in the way Percy, Annabeth, Nico, and all of the other demigods did.

And, Gods, that was just the biggest part of it, wasn't it?

Even after everything they'd gone through—the ignorance of adults not willing to understand, the apathy of other kids who thought lesser of those not like them, the loneliness and confusion because you didn't know what was wrong with you—they had still found a place to belong. Found people to belong to. And ... and ...

And you wanted that. More than anything in the world, back then.

But this was not your world anymore. This was theirs.

And now that you've thought about it, you realize that there's one more thing you can add to the list of 'Things I Know':

4. You've been reborn into the world of Percy Jackson, and you've already read a step-by-step guide on how to live in it.

(That morning, when Willow comes into your room to bring you down for breakfast, her forest green eyes swell with tears.

Your smile was just as beautiful as her and Penelope knew it'd be.)

Next Chapter ->

[demigod-shenanigans]

So, Thalia clearly wanted to talk to Jason alone in tlh and is kind of disgruntled Jason asked Leo to stay. But Jason is afraid and it’s all too much and he can’t do this alone. Leo was ready to go and give them privacy, but when Jason asks him to stay, Leo agrees immediately. Leo‘s a joking dumbass throughout most of that conversation, but he’s there for Jason. He tries to be supportive. Afterwards, when Jason’s clearly struggling, Leo makes an effort to walk next to him and try to make him feel better.

Leo also taps out ‘Love you’ in Morse code onto his knee when Thalia talks about Beryl. I now raise the following concept to you: Annabeth knows Morse code. Potentially, this means Thalia also knows Morse code. Thalia does not have context for this message being about Leo’s mom.

I’m currently highly entertained by the thought that she just fully assumed they were either dating or getting there. This doesn’t come up until they’re having a conversation ages later and Thalia casually asks how his boyfriend is doing and Jason just smiles and goes “Leo’s great :D” before pausing in confusion because they just got together and he did not tell her they were dating yet.

Thalia proceeds to give Jason shit about the fact that she figured out him and Leo were into each other months before either of them realized it forever.

[poppitron360]

Dark!Piper is my Roman Empire. I’m loving this glimpse of her.

[anticomedygarden]

hair

Annabeth had a complicated relationship with her hair.

also on ao3

-

"Ow!" Annabeth whined when Thalia pulled on another messy blonde tangle.

"Sorry," Thalia said, probably for the millionth time. The older girl was kneeling behind Annabeth on the floor of their current hideout and attempting to get the knots out of Annabeth's hair. None of them really knew the last time it had been brushed - probably not since she ran away. "I don't really know what I'm doing here."

"You just gotta unknot it!" Annabeth said. She didn't see why it was so hard; Thalia was 14 and should know how to untangle hair by now. Annabeth did.

Thalia laughed at her, but it sounded strained. "I don't even have a brush, Squirt. Plus, I've never had long hair."

Annabeth's mouth dropped open. "Really?" She thought all girls had long hair at some point.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't really like it. I like yours, though." Annabeth beamed, at least until Thalia tugged again, and she whined.

Suddenly, there was another set of hands in her hair. "Let me help," Luke said.

Thalia put a hand against Annabeth's back, and the younger girl tried not to buck it off. She was independent! "You can try, but I don't know how much better it can get without a wash and a brush."

Luke sighed. "I can at least try."

(Annabeth had never particularly cared about her hair. It wasn't that she didn't like it or anything, she just really didn't have any strong feelings toward it. She liked that it's there, liked the comforting weight and extra warmth in winter, but she'd figured out at a young age that the yellow color did nothing but hinder her in her pursuits, so she didn't bother with it. She could deal with it, but she wouldn't put any extra effort into it.)

When Annabeth left the showers, Percy was waiting on the steps of her cabin, lurking awkwardly.

"What are you doing?" she asked. It was a surprise, to say the least. She would've expected him to be hanging out with Grover or training in the arena. Besides, she had just gotten out of the shower. A blush worked its way into her cheeks.

"I don't know, I thought we could hang out," he said. Then, he caught sight of her fingers tangled in her knotted hair. "What happened?"

Her blush deepened. "It hasn't recovered from the quest yet." And she hadn't had the patience to brush it out in the few days since they'd been back, compounding and compounding the knot until she couldn't get it out if she tried. "I might have to cut it."

"Oh." Percy looked at her funny and stood, then made a move like he was gonna touch her hair. She stepped back on instinct, and he raised his hands. "I can try and get it out."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"I can work a brush." He almost sounded offended.

Normally, she would refuse, balking at the prospect of someone touching her hair, but after the quest, she found she didn't mind the thought as much as she thought she would. Plus, the knot was really bad, so he couldn't make it much worse, and it'd save her a lecture from Silena. She shrugged. "Fine."

Then, she went and got her hair brush from her bunk and went back out the door and sat on the step in front of him.

"Holy crap, what did you do to it?" he exclaimed.

She turned to give him a disbelieving look. "I went on a quest! When do you think I had time to untangle it?"

He didn't really look like he believed her, but he didn't say anything else.

"All right," he muttered. The first pull through had her jerking her head back and grabbing his hand behind her.

"Don't try and do it all at once, you'll just make it worse," she scolded. "Start from the bottom."

She felt him gently pull the lower half of her hair and start brushing it. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

After a minute, she relaxed, actually kind of enjoying the feeling. It was nice.

Finally, he finished and handed her back the brush. "I'm done."

"Wait, really?" She reached back to feel her hair and sure enough, it was back to its usual wavy strands, unknotted and flowing. "How'd you do that so fast?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It probably helped that it's wet. Do you wanna spar?"

Mouth still open, she nodded. She'd have to keep that little affinity of his in mind.

(As she got older, she couldn't help but think that indifference was an asset. Quests certainly didn't provide any time or supplies for hair care. Plus, having Percy around made sure it was wet with dirty water half the time, so why try.)

"Remind me why we're out here, again?" Percy asked as they picked their way through the forest.

"Because Tyson said he smelled something funny," Annabeth answered. "And be quiet, you're gonna scare whatever it is away."

Percy stuck his tongue out at her but stopped talking, and they continued walking through the forest until they heard a sound from a ways away.

They froze. One look and they were heading off toward the noise.

It soon became apparent they were heading for nothing as the ground beneath their feet became squishier and squishier.

Then, there was another noise, and she stopped abruptly.

Too abruptly, apparently, because the next thing she knew, she was face down in muddy swamp water.

Groaning, she didn't stay down long and jumped up, knocking Percy over into the water. (He'd be fine.)

"What the Hades, Seaweed Brain?" she said.

He stood slowly. "Why'd you stop?"

"I heard something," she said, reaching up to get some of the gunk off her face. When she touched her hair, though, she paused. It was soaked through with the brackish water. The only thing that could clean it now was a good shower.

Well. It's not like she really cared all that much.

That was her only consolation as they trudged back to camp.

(She didn't think she'd ever want to chop it off; no, it was a part of her, a part she did kinda love on good days, even if it was a nuisance. And she loved having that connection to Percy, and Silena, in a way.)

"Damn, girl, what did I tell you?" Silena said from her spot behind Annabeth's chair. The older girl was attempting to rescue the blonde mass from its latest adventure, and Annabeth was afraid it wasn't looking too good.

"I was kidnapped by a titan, I couldn't exactly take care of it," Annabeth grumbled, wincing when Silena gave a particularly rough pull. She'd been sitting in this chair for years for the daughter of Aphrodite to cut her hair and just generally take care of it, and she still couldn't stand watching herself in the vanity mirror. She looked away.

"Well, I'm afraid I may have to cut it."

"That's fine," she said. It wouldn't be the first time. She looked at herself one final time to mourn the current length and caught sight of the grey streak. "Wait!"

"What?" Silena said, sounding surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure you can't untangle it?" she asked.

Silena sighed and picked up the knot of hair again. "I can try, but it'll take a while."

"That's fine," Annabeth said definitively. Hair grew at approximately half an inch per month, but Annabeth wasn't sure how the stress from holding the sky would affect the growth rate or the return to its normal color. However, she wasn't going to hurry the process along, at least, not as long as Percy still had his.

Not that she would ever tell anyone that.

So she sat as patiently as she ever had while Silena untangled her hair.

(Probably the longest Annabeth ever went without brushing her hair was when Percy was missing. Without his fingers to run through it or Silena to pester her about it, she just didn't think of it. Or want to think of it.)

"Okay, no. Come here."

Annabeth looked up from the map she was staring at on a table in Bunker 9 to see Piper walking towards her. "What?"

Leo glanced over from whatever project he was working on with a similar expression of bewilderment on his face. Clearly, he didn't know what Piper was talking about, either.

"Annabeth, your hair. When was the last time you brushed your hair?" Piper asked exasperatedly, steering Annabeth to sit down in a chair.

"I was in the middle of something," Annabeth protested.

"You can go back to staring at that map after I fix this rat's nest," said Piper. "Seriously, I know you have a brush. When was the last time you used it?"

Accepting her fate, Annabeth just shrugged. Her hair was rarely, if ever, on the front of her mind.

When Piper attempted to drag a brush through it, they both winced. "Oh my gods, there's a ponytail in here? How long has that been there? And how long has it been since you washed it?"

Once again, Annabeth shrugged. She honestly had no idea, though, come to think of it, it had been pretty itchy lately.

"Okay, well, that ends now." With that, Piper went to work on the knot, attacking it with the brush. "I'm gonna have to cut the ponytail out."

Annabeth startled. "Wait - the hair or the rubber band?"

"The rubber band," Piper said, causing Annabeth to breathe a sigh of relief. She knew it was stupid, but she didn't want there to be any risk of Percy not recognizing her when they found Camp Jupiter. "Your hair is completely wrapped around it."

Without waiting for a response, she whipped out Katoptris and sliced the rubber band out. Annabeth's hair didn't move much.

"Good lord," Piper muttered. "Here we go." The daughter of Aphrodite then went at the knot with the same vigor as Annabeth going at a training dummy. It did not feel good.

Piper was far less gentle than her sister. Piper was far less gentle than Percy.

Annabeth didn't like that thought, didn't like thinking of the dead, and she really didn't like thinking of Percy as missing.

But when she squirmed to try and get away, Piper gripped her shoulder, keeping her from standing. "Piper, I-"

"Hold still."

"I can do it-"

"But you won't, will you?" Piper said, raising an eyebrow.

Even Annabeth had to admit that she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "I promise I'll-"

"No," Piper said with finality. However, it was what she said next that rooted Annabeth in place. "Let me do this for you, please."

She paused. It had never occurred to her that Piper might be trying to help in whatever way she could, that she didn't have the mechanical skills to help build the ship or the memories to help try and pinpoint where exactly Camp Jupiter was. "Fine."

"Thank you."

So, she sat there while Piper untangled her hair and only winced every so often.

Finally, probably an hour later, she was done, and they both stood. "Now, you're going to go eat dinner, then you're gonna shower, and then you're gonna go to bed."

Annabeth blanched. "I still have so much work to do."

Piper put her hands on her hips. "And it will still be there in the morning."

They stared at each other, neither one willing to relent, until Leo giggled from across the bunker. "Someone's in trouble."

Piper snorted. "I don't know why you're laughing, Repair Boy, you're going, too."

Annabeth didn't have to see his face to know his mouth had hit the floor. "I never agreed to that!"

Piper's eyes narrowed, and she went to grab Leo from his work bench. "I don't care." She pointed at the door. "Now, both of you, dinner, shower, bed."

There was no way Annabeth would agree to that, not when there was still so much work to do on the ship, maps to study, star charts to examine - really, she didn't have time. "How about dinner and bed, then shower in the morning?"

Piper's eyes hardened from where she was dragging Leo by the collar over to the door, then she pushed Annabeth's back until the blonde was also standing outside the door. "Dinner, shower, bed." She turned around to lock Bunker 9 behind them. "And for the love of the gods, wash your hair. Yes, Leo, both of you."

(Annabeth needn't have worried about Percy recognizing her. She probably could have shaved her head and painted her face to look like Iron Man, and he would recognize her, even in the depths of Tartarus.)

"What do you think of me cutting my hair?" Annabeth asked.

Her and Percy were limping along the Phlegethon at the approximate rate of a Zamboni in a swamp. Pain and soreness had settled into every corner of her body, but Annabeth was somehow thinking of her hair tangled at the back of her neck and stuck to her face with sweat, and how the hell she would fix it if they made it back to the mortal world. (When. When they made it back to the mortal world.)

She barely felt Percy turn to look at her. "I think you should do whatever you want with it."

Aw. She probably should have predicted that. "Come on, tell me the truth."

He paused. "You know I love your hair."

When he didn't say anything else, she pressed her fingers against his waist. "But?"

"But," he started. "But it's your hair."

"I know that," she said with more force than she meant to.

If she could see anything in the dark, she would've seen his brows furrow. "Do you really wanna get rid of it?"

She bit her lip. "No." She couldn't bear to let go of everything it meant to her now, the memories it carried beyond just the grey streak: Thalia, Luke, Silena, Piper, Percy. It was hers to care for, hers to maintain, and she hated that it took Tartarus for her to realize that. "I just don't know how it's going to recover from this."

"Hey," he said, stopping them. "It's gonna be fine. It'll get through it." She gave him a disbelieving look, though she wasn't sure he could see it. "Do you know how I know?"

Her hands fiddled with the back of his shirt where they were wrapped around his waist. "How?"

"Because it's so bright that it's one of the only things I can see right now."

She pressed her face into his chest. "All right. If you say so."

He rested a cheek on her head. "I do."

(Then, of course, there were the practical purposes.)

"Okay, I think I'm finally getting this," Percy said above her.

"Thank the gods."

He had been messing with her hair for about two hours now trying to figure out how to do a French braid. Without technology, his only resource was a book he found at the library, and it wasn't like Annabeth knew how to do it.

Though she may want to learn soon for the same reason Percy was. He was gonna have a little sister, one that, for all intents and purposes, would probably grow up with Annabeth as an older sister figure which was absolutely insane for her to think about. She technically had plenty of experience as a counselor and an actual older sister (though that qualification was debatable), but it was a whole other thing when it was Percy's baby sister.

It was very hard not to think of Silena, and even harder not to think of Thalia. If she was half the older sister to the new little girl that Silena and Thalia were to her, she would have succeeded.

But for now, she could help Percy learn to be a big brother.

(So maybe she did love her hair. Just a little bit.)

[nockstormbringer]

Percy Jackson: Extended Universe

↳ Characters Im writing for!

Requests are opened; headcanons only

Camp Half Blood

Percy Jackson || Cabin 3

Annabeth Chase || Cabin 6

Grover Underwood || Stayr

Thalia Grace || Cabin 8

Zoë Nightshade || Cabin 8

Leo Valdez || Cabin 9

Piper McLean || Cabin 10

Luke Castellan || Cabin 11

Bianca Di Angelo || Cabin 13

Nico Di Angelo || Cabin 13

Clarisse La Rue || Cabin 5

Will Solace || Cabin 7

Charles Beckendorf || Cabin 9

Silena Beauregard || Cabin 10

Drew Tanaka || Cabin 10

Conner Stoll || Cabin 11

Travis Stoll || Cabin 11

Pollux || Cabin 12

Clovis || Cabin 15

Camp Jupiter

Jason Grace || Praetor

Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano || Praetor

Frank Zhang || Cohort 5

Hazel Levesque || Cohort 5

Octavian || Cohort 1

Gods

Apollo || Lestor Papadopulous

Aphrodite || Venus

Ares || Mars

Hephaestus || Fulcan

Hades || Pluto

Persephone || Perserpina

Hermes || Mercury

Dionysus || Bacchus

Extra

Lityerses || Son of Midas & Demeter

Rachel Elizabeth Dare || Oracle of Delphi

[icouldmakeapun]

In honour of the new Nico and Will book

[punkeropercyjackson]

Fanartists who draw characters with super ashy/faded skin tones and delicate facial features and builds and focus almost entierly on nonblack/male characters and shipping and powerup aus have done irreperable damage to the Batfam and Pjo ecosystems

[lou-0111]

How each character from Percy Jackson might confess their love to you:

Percy Jackson

Percy would likely be straightforward but a bit nervous, possibly choosing a relaxed, meaningful setting to make it special.

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot lately... and I’ve realized that I really care about you. More than just as a friend. I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Annabeth Chase

Annabeth would likely plan a thoughtful moment, perhaps during a meaningful activity or after a deep conversation. She’d be sincere and direct but with a touch of her intellectual charm.

“I’ve been thinking about us a lot. We work so well together, and I’ve come to realize that I have feelings for you. I don’t want to just be friends anymore. I want to be something more.”

Luke Castellan

Luke would be passionate and straightforward, often in a way that reflects his rebellious nature. He might make a grand gesture or choose an exciting moment to reveal his feelings.

“I know I’m not always the best at this kind of thing, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you, no matter what happens.”

Clarisse La Rue

Clarisse would be blunt and honest, expressing her feelings with a straightforward approach. It might not be overly romantic, but it would be heartfelt and genuine.

“Listen, I’m not good with all the mushy stuff, but I want you to know that I really care about you. I’ve been thinking about us a lot, and I’m falling for you. I want us to be together.”

Thalia Grace

Thalia would be direct but sincere, possibly confessing her feelings during a quiet moment or after a shared adventure. She’d be confident but genuine.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about how much I enjoy spending time with you. I’ve realized that my feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I want to be with you, if you feel the same.”

Nico di Angelo

Nico would likely be introspective and a bit nervous, choosing a quiet, intimate setting to open up about his feelings. His confession would be heartfelt and sincere.

“I know I’m not always the easiest person to be around, but I can’t keep this to myself anymore. I have deep feelings for you. I’m falling in love with you, and I hope you feel the same.”

Jason Grace

Jason would be confident and respectful, possibly during a calm moment or after a significant event. His approach would be sincere and considerate of your feelings.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us and what we mean to each other. I’ve come to realize that I have strong feelings for you. I care about you deeply and would love to be more than just friends.”

Hazel Levesque

Hazel would be gentle and heartfelt, possibly in a setting that feels serene or reflective. She’d express her emotions with sincerity and vulnerability.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us and how much I value our time together. I’ve realized that I have feelings for you that go beyond friendship. I’d really like us to be together, if you’re open to it.”

Piper McLean

Piper would be charming and sincere, often making her confession during a sweet or romantic moment. Her approach would be warm and emotionally expressive.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now. I’ve realized that my feelings for you have grown into something deeper. I’m in love with you, and I hope you feel the same way.”

[cece693]

PLEASE PART TWO OF THAT NICO DI ANGELO FIC

I'm not even a fan nor do I know anything about the PJO series but that.. THAT fic makes me wanna start reading it

Sword Fighting Pt. 2 (Nico Di Angelo x Son of Aphrodite)

Part 1 can be found here, however, you don't need to read it to understand this.

tags: love confessions, Nico being overprotective, near-death experience, takes place during The Blood of Olympus, reader is injured (badly)

Time was something demigods rarely had, and Nico di Angelo had lived long enough to know that it always slipped through their fingers. He never planned to reveal his feelings for you, the son of Aphrodite, but as Gaea rose from her slumber and the earth itself raged in the final battle, regret gnawed at him.

He should’ve told you.

The battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos—monsters falling, demigods fighting with every last bit of strength they had left. The air was thick with dust and the stench of death, but through it all, Nico’s eyes sought you. You moved like a whirlwind, graceful and deadly, wielding your twin blades with a skill that defied your heritage.

Even now, in the heart of war, there was a terrible beauty to how you fought—fluid, precise, unstoppable. Nico's breath hitched as he watched you, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the battle around him. He had seen many things in his life—gods, monsters, and the depths of the Underworld—but he'd never seen anything as beautiful as you.

For a moment, it seemed like the battle was turning in their favor. The monsters were thinning, their numbers dwindling under the combined might of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. Nico’s heart pounded with a glimmer of hope. Maybe—just maybe—they had a chance.

Then it happened.

As the demigods paused to catch their breath, thinking they had won, a final foe—enormous, armored, and ancient—rose from the shadows, roaring with fury. The beast lunged, aiming straight for Hazel, its jagged weapon raised for a killing blow.

You didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, you threw yourself between the beast and Hazel. Nico saw it as if in slow motion—how your eyes flashed with determination and your blade shone in the sun as you swung to kill the beast before a sickening crunch echoed across the battlefield. You had saved Hazel, but you had also been stuck, crumpling to the ground, your blood spilling across the earth.

“No!” Nico’s voice tore through the chaos, a raw cry filled with panic and horror. He barely felt his feet moving as he sprinted toward you. He reached your side in what felt like an eternity, falling to his knees beside you. Blood stained through your armor, dark and thick, pooling beneath your body. Your face was pale, lips quivering as you struggled to draw breath.

“Nico…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, eyes fluttering.

“No, no, no stay with me.” Nico pleaded, his hands trembling as he pressed them against your wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Around him, the other demigods rushed to your side—they moved quickly, but it felt agonizingly slow to Nico. The son of Aphrodite was barely conscious as Percy and Jason lifted him gently, careful not to jostle his broken form too much.

Hazel, pale with guilt and worry, led the way back to the makeshift camp they had set up behind the front lines. It was a patch of relative calm amidst the chaos of war, but Nico’s heart hammered in his chest like a storm.

“Will!” Nico screamed, his voice tight with fear. The blond healer turned around and paled upon seeing your state—ushering Percy and Jason to lay you in an empty bed.

“This is bad,” Will muttered, his voice hushed, trying to keep his composure as he assessed your chest. He pressed a glowing hand to your wound, his brow furrowed in concentration, but he shook his head slightly. “The weapon must’ve been enchanted—it’s deeper than it looks, and it’s not healing like it should.”

Nico’s throat tightened. “You can heal it though, right? You have to.”

Will glanced at Nico, his expression shadowed with doubt. “I don’t know, Nico. This kind of wound…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ll do everything I can.” His grip on your hand tightened as Will began his work, the faint golden glow of healing energy surrounding your body, but Nico could tell it wasn’t enough.

Hours passed, and Will pushed himself to the limit, alternating between ambrosia, nectar, and healing magic, trying everything he knew. But still, your breathing was shallow, and the wound stubbornly refused to fully close. Nico stayed by your side the entire time, refusing to move, barely blinking as he watched every flicker of your face for a sign of improvement.

The others came and went—between the battle's cleanup and burning of shrouds—they all offered words of comfort, but Nico barely registered them. His world had narrowed to the cot where you lay, your face pale and peaceful as if already slipping into the void.

Days blurred together. Each dawn brought a renewed wave of dread, as Nico feared you wouldn’t wake up. Every breath you took seemed a miracle, but it wasn’t enough. Ambrosia was fed to you sparingly, Will careful not to overuse it. Every time you twitched or murmured in your sleep, Nico’s heart leapt, only to sink again when you didn’t stir beyond that.

He never left your side.

“Nico you need to rest,” Will urged gently, exhaustion lining his own features. “You’ve been here for days. You can’t keep going like this.”

Nico shook his head. “I’m not leaving him.”

Will opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He knew better than to push Nico. The look in his eyes—dark, haunted—was enough to silence any protest. He had seen that look before, in the faces of those who had lost too much already, those who were on the edge of breaking. “Okay.” Will said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Nico’s shoulder before stepping out of the tent. His footsteps faded, leaving the ghost king alone in the dimly lit space.

Nico leaned forward, resting his forehead on the back of your hand. His body was heavy with exhaustion, every muscle aching from his own battle wounds and malnutrition, not having eaten anything in days, but he couldn't leave. Nico wouldn't. The thought of walking away, even for a moment, felt like abandonment—like if he left your side, you might slip away for good. And that…that was something Nico couldn’t bear.

“I convinced myself there was time to tell you how I felt,” Nico said, his voice cracking, each word feeling like it was pulled from a wound too deep to close. “But now…now it might be too late.”

His breath hitched, and he squeezed your hand tighter, as if holding onto you physically would stop you from slipping away. He could feel the faint warmth of your skin, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel real—none of this did. You were so still, your chest rising and falling with shallow, labored breaths. The strong, brilliant demigod he admired—no, loved—reduced to this fragile, fading presence in the cot before him.

Nico swallowed hard, the ache in his chest nearly unbearable. "I should’ve told you the moment I realized. I should’ve been braver. But I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same, or worse—that if I let you in, you’d leave me. Like Bianca did."

The name hung heavy in the air, thick with old grief. His sister. His rock. The one person who had ever made him feel less alone—until you came along. Losing her had shattered him in ways he’d never fully recovered from, and the thought of losing you now? It was a nightmare he couldn’t endure.

“I couldn’t handle it,” Nico whispered, his voice trembling as the confession spilled out. “If you leave me, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. Not again. I’m not strong enough to go through that again.”

The dam broke, and the words came faster, more desperate. “I swear, if you die on me, I’ll follow you. I don’t care what Will or anyone says. I’ll follow you to Elysium if I have to." He pressed his forehead against the back of your hand, his body shaking with the effort of holding back tears. "I love you. I should’ve said it before. I love you, and I’m not ready to let you go."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Nico stayed perfectly still, the weight of his confession hanging between you, the silence around him thick and unbearable. Then, faintly, a shift—a movement so small Nico almost didn’t notice it. Your fingers twitched beneath his.

His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head in disbelief. A soft, rasping sound reached his ears. “Nico…” His heart lurched. Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and filled with pain, but undeniably alive. You coughed weakly, wincing at the movement, but your lips curled into a faint smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Nico froze, staring at you as if you were a ghost. The relief hit him so suddenly that he couldn’t breathe. “You’re awake…” His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief coloring every word.

Your smile widened just a fraction, though it was strained with effort. “You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?”

Nico’s relief was overwhelming, but it didn’t come without an edge of something sharper. Anger, bitter and cold, began to surface as he stared at you, still fragile but alive. The thought of how close you came to dying—how close he came to losing you—made his chest tighten painfully.

He pulled back, his expression hardening, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “What the hell were you thinking!? You nearly died out there!”

You blinked, still groggy but more aware now, and gave a weak smile. “Someone had to, right?” you rasped, trying to lighten the tension, but Nico wasn’t having it.

“That’s not the point!” Nico’s voice was louder than he intended, eyes burning with something between fury and heartbreak. “You could’ve died. You almost did."

Your smile widened, even as you winced at the effort. “You would’ve done the same thing,” you said, your voice hoarse but filled with that infuriating calmness. “If it had been you, and Hazel was in danger, you wouldn’t have hesitated.”

Nico froze, his jaw clenching as the truth of your words settled over him. He wanted to argue, to shout at you for being reckless and careless with your life, but he couldn’t. You were right, and that only made it worse. If the roles were reversed, Nico knew, deep down, that he would’ve done exactly the same thing.

You smirked at his silence, clearly pleased with yourself. “See?” you said softly, your voice still weak but playful. “I know you, di Angelo.”

Nico scowled, but his anger was already slipping away, replaced by something warmer, something he couldn’t quite name but felt deep in his bones. He didn’t reply to your teasing, didn’t trust himself to say anything without his emotions spilling over again. Instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “You’re impossible.”

You laughed, though it quickly turned into a pained cough. Nico’s heart clenched again, his worry returning in full force. “I don’t care what you think,” He said after a moment, his voice quieter now, but still laced with intensity. “Next time, don’t throw your life away for anyone. Not Hazel. Not even me.”

You met his gaze, your smile softening. “I won’t.” you said, though the glint in your eyes told him you were lying. Nico didn’t reply to that. He knew you too well—knew that your words were empty promises. But for now, you were alive, and that was all that mattered.

[aroaceleovaldez]

emo Nico x scene Will Solace...

[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ɪ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ

Now that you've sort of finally accepted your new circumstances, you take the opportunity of being a baby to stare because you know no one's gonna call you a creep for it (this time).

Penelope is 'Mother', you eventually decide.

You take a lot after her, you realize whenever she decides to hold you up to a mirror one day to show you the newest onesie (cow-themed, this time) she's bought for you. You share her skin tone and eye color, and you're fairly sure you see tufts of [H/c] hair growing in.

Those similarities, however, are the only ones you share with her, for she still looks different from you in plenty of other ways.

Penelope Ophelia is tall—almost reaching up to six feet, you're pretty sure—and thin, her body shape a perfect hour glass. Her hair is straight, but cascades into curls where it ends just beneath her butt, and her eyes are fox-like and almost luminescent when the moon or sun hits them just right. Honestly, had it not been for the fact that she was your Mother, you would have been terrified of her as a stranger.

But it is because of the fact that she is your Mother, though, that you know her appearance is exactly just that: an appearance, and nothing more. Despite the sharpness of her eyes and how cool her skin feels against your own, there is a softness to Penelope that pulls you in and makes you unafraid to curl your small hands into the fabric of her clothes and nuzzle your face into the spot that sits between her neck and her shoulder. She coos everytime you do and always makes sure to nuzzle you back, and it fills your insides with warmth.

She likes to bake in her free time, and is pretty damn good at it if the mouth watering smell of bread or whatever other pastry Penelope decides to bless the Ophelia household with is anything to go by. You unfortunately can't really eat a lot of her pastries due to being a baby that's yet to grow their teeth in, but you've learned long ago that patience is, in fact, a virtue, and you will happily reap your reward once the time finally comes.

(For now, though, you can only suffer in silence as you watch Willow scarf down the best looking cheesecake you've ever seen while Penelope airplanes baby food into your mouth.)

The woman you get your horns and slowly growing goat ears and tail from is Willow Ophelia, now also dubbed 'Mum'.

She's about a head shorter than Mother, but for what she lacks in height, she makes up for in muscle. Due to her apparent appreciation for crop tops, you've already seen just how toned her stomach is, and her arms—while not too big—clearly have a lot of power, though you're sure that's what tending to a farm filled with crops and animals does to you.

Mum's skin is dark and littered with lighter patches (vitiligo, you think?), and her eyes are round and colored forest green. What mainly draws you into her, however, has to be the fluffy cloud of platinum blonde hair that sits atop her head, with goat ears colored the same coming out from the sides and thick, birch-like horns protruding from the top and curling backwards in a way that kind of reminded you of that one old goat from Hoodwinked.

When you see Mother and Mum together, it is then that you finally start to believe the old saying, "Opposites attract."

While Penelope looks and feels cold on the outside despite the pure warmth she freely gives to those she loves and cares for, Willow's appearance is all it takes to hide the fact that—even with the chill, almost goofy demeanor she likes to wear around other people—she is a force to be reckoned with the moment you earn her ire.

Firm, stubborn, and determined, Willow loves fiercely and therefore protects her family with the rage of a soldier. You know that she genuinely does actually like working on the farm, but you also know it serves as something to keep her in shape and ready for a fight, too.

Like with Penelope, however, you can't find yourself feeling any sort of fear for her, and perhaps that is because, as her child—the culmination of hers and Penelope's love—you have only ever known Willow's strength in the form of her strong arms holding you like they're meant to shield you from the dangers of the world and willing to do anything to keep you from harm, no matter the cost. Willow's rage is only for those who deserve it, and already, somehow, you know that—in her eyes, at least—you never will.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

In the night, Mother reads fairy tales to you from an old book she tells you was gifted to her from her grandfather before his passing.

With a rocking chair next to your crib and you safely secured in her lap, positioned so that you could lay against her stomach, Penelope makes sure to hold the book on her lap in a way that allows you to see the pictures that color the pages not littered with words. Her voice is regal, but also possesses an almost rumbly quality to it that makes her chest vibrate enough to where you can feel it, and that alone is nearly enough to send your eye lids fluttering shut.

Mother likes happy endings. She tells you herself after she finishes reading Cinderella to you, one night (a night that you're very proud of because you didn't immediately fall asleep like you usually do when she reads to you), and tucks you into bed.

"The world is nothing like the ones I read to you, little love," she says, the soft smile that had been gracing her delicate features at the time growing at the sight of your small yawn. "I still like to believe that there is a happy ending for everyone, though, and I hope that someday, you will find yours."

She had ended the brief moment off with a kiss to your forehead, and then left you to dream of the daring princes, kind princesses, and fearsome beasts from the stories she had weaved into your mind with her romantic tales.

Mum's stories come in the day. They aren't as frequent as Mother's, but that only makes them all the more special.

When it's time for those moments, no matter how long or short they may turn out to be, Mum likes to take you away from the house and sit near the lake, where you can watch all the little frogs and dragon flies go about their business amongst the lily pads beneath the blue, cloudy sky.

It is in those moments, then, where it is only the two of you, Mum speaks of no fairy tales or happy endings. Instead, she tells you of divine beings greater than you could ever know; beings who envy the very mortals they look down upon because they can feel things they will never be able to fully replicate, and monsters born from people forced into a world and punished for mistakes not even their own. She whispers about the wilds; about how different this world used to be before humanity's advancements. She doesn't blame all of them for their ambition, for wanting to create an easier world for the generations to come, but you don't miss the sad, almost mournful look that flickers through her shiny eyes, looking as if she'd been pulled back into memories from long before.

And when that happens, all you can do is lean back into her and hope that your presence is enough to bring her home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This was it. You were finally gonna do it.

You were going to walk today, and no one could stop you.

(A fact that you were very right about, as the only two people who could stop you wouldn't even want to, as any parent's child's first steps is a sacred memory.)

Furrowing your brows in concentration, you shakily lift a hand and place it against the counter next to you for support as you slowly push yourself up onto your feet, a determined frown painting your lips.

Okay. You inhale deeply and try to straighten your back out. Okay, I'm standing up. It's going well so far. Now ...

Narrowing your [E/c] eyes, you begin to look around the room, pondering: Where should I walk to?

As if on cue, Mother steps into the room, and she gasps—loudly.

"Willow!" She turns to yell up the stairs. "Willow get the camera and come quick!"

You hear something clatter from above, but you pay it no mind and instead focus on the the long, white sundress your Mother had decided to wear today.

Bingo.

Taking another deep breath to hype yourself up, you slowly, but surely, take a small step. The action, of course, has your Mother returning her gaze to you faster than anyone can blink, and she gasps again.

"WILLOW! HURRY, LOVE!!"

"I'M HURRYING, I'M HURRYING!!"

Stumbling down the stairs, Mum slides over to Mother's side and nearly drops the camera she's holding in the process—both from the fact that her entrance had almost led to her landing flat on her face, and the shock of seeing you trying to walk.

Choosing to focus on your goal instead of the two women standing in front of you, their eyes filling with tears, you keep your eyes glued to your feet as you carefully take another step, and another one, and another one ...

"Look at you go, kid!" Willow whoops from behind the camera as she takes pictures.

Standing next to her wife, Penelope beams at you and claps her hand, practically glowing the pride. "That's it, little love! Keep going!" she cheers.

Soon enough, the counter is no longer there to support you, and you look up just in time to give your moms a gummy smile as your little legs take you stumbling forward into Mother's legs. The women cheer, and Willow takes one last picture of you hugging Penelope's legs like a koala before setting the camera aside and picking you up, grinning widely.

"That was amazing, kiddo!" She holds you between Mother and herself so they can both smother you with kisses. "Does this mean you're gonna be talking soon, too?"

You giggle, the sound high pitched and bright, and it makes your moms snuggle you even more.

The Ophelia household is warm for the rest of the day, and you can't help but hope it'll stay that way for the rest of your second life.

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