#silena writes

[somewhereincairparavel]

i will forever be disappointed at how the Aphrodite cabin is portrayed in the books.

Silena was an exception I guess but it wasn't enough tbh. I really dislike the way wearing makeup or dressing up fancy is seen as "shallow" or "too much". There's nothing wrong in wanting to dress extravagantly, it's a form of self prep. Fancy ≠ shallow. And the only "good" member of the cabin after silena was a girl who didn't like her own cabin and was seen as super "cool" simply because she rejected all the "girly" stuff by rebelling. Why can't we have both "girly" and non girly girls as cool people?

Drew was genuinely very shallow, but every time she's brought up in the books, instead of soley describing her personality, her tendency to wear makeup is shown as a bad thing. And it's not just because she's seen in piper's pov, she wasnt really described any better in Sadie Kane's povs either. When Sadie described drew wearing "awful pink eyeliner" upon seeing her + plus saying her perfume was 'too much' or something like that.

Reading about Drew's character description just gives me a headache lol because the way Rick wrote her as being shallow while ironically making other people judge her in a shallow way is just off putting. Like, no need to bitch on her for wanting to be more 'feminine' and "princess-y" ?

Give me an Aphrodite kid who sees wearing makeup as an art form (because it is) and not simply just to impress other people, like drew.

Give me an Aphrodite kid who uses fashion as a coping mechanism from their shitty life.

Give me an Aphrodite kid who loves knitting other people cute scarves as presents.

Give me an Aphrodite kid who loves doing younger camper's hair for them as their love language.

[froggie-at-home]

post-manhattan will would've hated silena so much. he'd definitely defend drew because he agrees with her. not everyone knows the truth about silena being a spy, so people think that will and drew are just bitching, when in reality drew was betrayed by her favorite older sister and will's siblings and friends were killed

[nvirskies]

til death do us part, and then some - c. la rue

warnings: reader suicide, angst hurt/no comfort, ruegard, asshole clarisse, descriptions of blood, infidelity, broken promises, not beta read

summary: clarisse never comes back from a quest and you take matters into your own hands to reunite.

unclaimed!fem!demigod!reader x unfaithful!clarisse la rue

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover @azrielsdiary

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, READ AT OWN RISK

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni

Lord Dionysus, Chiron, or whomever may be reading this:

In the event that someone has been unfortunate enough to find this note upon my death, do not fret. This has been a decision I had been mulling over for weeks, months, if not years now. I do not know when I will feel compelled to take this step further, so this has been written entirely in advance. Know that I will be content with my life in the Fields of Asphodel, or the Gardens of Elysium should Lord Hades be so generous as to grant me that privilege.

I would like to thank everyone who did their best in making Camp Half-Blood a welcoming and home space. Special thanks to the Hermes cabin, and Lord Hermes for their gracious welcoming arms and making me feel like I belonged somewhere. My belongings should be distributed amongst whomever would like to keep them, and make sure they are put to good use.

Return any and all of Clarisse’s clothing found in my chest back to the Ares cabin, and let them figure out what to do with it on their own time. Lord Ares, I give my final thanks to you for graciously allowing your daughter to have been part of my life. 

To my fellow unclaimed demigods who are wondering if they should be mourning the loss of a sibling, I have no definitive answer for you beyond if you felt like you were close enough to call me a sibling, mourn me like you would a biological one. No matter if you are claimed tomorrow or never claimed at all, know you are not unworthy or inferior simply because of your divine parent’s lack of attention. 

You may be half-divine, but always remember to keep that human spark within you alive. Keep your compassion, your empathy, your sense of understanding. This world is not made for us, but never give up on creating spaces that are. We live heavy lives, and respite is hard to come by.

When you bury my body, put me to rest with my javelin, suit of armor, and the fragments of Clarisse’s shattered spear. Under my tongue, please place two coins instead of one. My love is waiting for me on the banks of the River Styx with no way across, and I would like to provide her with a way across alongside me. 

Underneath the last paragraph was your name, signed in neat print alongside your signature swooping cursive. The letter was found rolled neatly atop your chest of belongings, your lifeless body on the bunk bed you had claimed for yourself for the past four years of your life. Crimson blood seeped through the bed sheets and mattress, a fatal reminder for all of the fragility that even the strongest harbored. 

Upon the discovery of your body, ripples of whispers swept through the campers like a stone tossed in the midst of a serene waterfront. Your skin was just barely lukewarm, the blood streaming from the thin cut horizontal across the jugular vein was beginning to brown and oxidize. 

In one hand was the knife that had presumably made the cut, the blade pristine and glinting in the dim light save for the thin line of blood that ran across its edge. The other held Clarisse’s favorite shirt, all bundled up and cleaner than anyone had ever seen it before. Anyone who picked up said shirt could immediately tell that it had been doused in the cologne that she once wore on a daily basis, no doubt a purposeful move to make your last moments completely blissful in surrounding yourself with her scent.

She had been your home, after all.

Clarisse had comforted you through nightmares, the breakdowns about being unclaimed for years that happened whenever someone new was claimed and the jealousy and anger of it all. 

She had reassured you that even after Silena had died that you weren’t a rebound, and that her feelings for you were genuine, and you had believed her. 

You were her girl, after all. The one she let her walls down around, the one who had tried to patch together the spear her father had given her even after the Hephaestus children had given up. The one who she let braid her hair and be soft around. The one where she had promised over and over again that even in the afterlife, you would find each other in Elysium again.

Then, she had been sent out on a quest. One that she had vowed to return from, safe and sound. The rest of her group did, but her face was never again seen on the hills of Camp Half-Blood that the two of you called home. 

Gone were the moments wherein she would hold you and soothe all of your worries away. Gone were the times of squealing as she picked you up from behind and spun you around to face her mid-air. Gone were all the possibilities to make the most of your limited years together, because she was dead, off in a faraway land that you couldn’t even visit to see her corpse and offer her one last smile.

That was when the thoughts began to swirl in your mind. Months went by and everything seemed to go back to normal. You had been given three weeks off training to mourn, and after those three weeks you seemingly bounced back like nothing was wrong, like you hadn’t just lost the love of your life. 

The only difference was the streak of white that made itself apparent in your hair, its origins unknown, and the smile on your face that never seemed to quite reach your eyes no matter how many times you tried to convince (yourself) and the others that it was genuine. 

Months passed and all fell back into its routine. Things were looking up for the camp as a whole, and Chiron had been able to take a few steps back in managing thanks to Percy Jackson’s continued efforts to have gods and goddesses interact with their children more. 

But those thoughts still took root in your mind, their tendrils digging into the very essence of your psyche as every lonely moment was spent longing for her touch, for her warmth, for the security that she provided once upon a time. In your mind, there was no doubt that it was time to make good on your promise to each other. 

You would meet her in the gardens of Elysium and reunite once more.

After your burial, you made your way down to the banks of the River Styx, anxiously clutching the two coins in one hand and your javelin in the other. Your eyes scanned the crowds of souls, all clamoring to Charon, pleading that he take pity on them and take them across without payment.

The wails of the damned, sobs of the innocent, and screams of the guilty all flooded your senses. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls and sprinted towards them, your footsteps leaving indents on the ash-sand lining the waterline of the Styx.

She was there. Your assumptions had been correct. 

As she had died out in the world and had never been given a proper burial, she had joined the crowd that lingered just at the edge of the Styx, taking every chance she had to try and get across. 

But now that you were there, she didn’t have to worry about sneaking aboard Charon’s boat. You had enough payment for the both of you to make it across safely, and finally live out the rest of your afterlives like you had promised each other.

It wasn’t until you were naught but a couple dozen feet away that you noticed she was rather busy with something. Or rather, someone. And she was looking at that person like they were the only one in the world right now. Your gut twisted, knowing that was the look that she had given you. 

But it wasn’t you she was looking at. It was Silena Beauregard, the daughter of Aphrodite, that Clarisse had spent countless hours reassuring you that she wasn’t just using you as a rebound to get over her death.

She had lied right through her teeth, all with the kindest smile on her face that you could imagine. It was becoming apparent that you were a fool, strung along for the sole purpose of keeping Clarisse’s arms full and warm while she thought of the Beauregard girl. 

Every kiss, every moment, every word shared between you two seemed hollow now. They had lost all meaning, all of the sentiment that once made your stomach fill with butterflies. 

You skidded to a stop just behind the pair, watching with a heavy heart and tightening in your chest as their lips collided over and over again in a series of passionate kisses, their hands roaming each others’ bodies. Just like she had done with you, countless times prior. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence.

You had always been hers, but she had never been yours. 

There wasn’t much emotion left in you besides melancholic resignation, and your gut twisted every time you gripped the two coins in your hand, a reminder that they would never be used for their intended purpose. 

You waited there for a moment before tapping on Clarisse’s shoulder, causing her to break away from the kiss and turn to look at you. Surprise filled her features, then guilt. Overwhelming guilt as she realized the situation you had caught her in. Her lips were interlocked with another girl’s just a moment ago, the very same girl that she had reassured was not a problem or factor in your relationship.

Silena stood behind her, her eyes scrutinizing your appearance, taking note of the way you clutched two coins instead of the customary one. 

“Love-? What are you doing here?” Clarisse asked, the term of endearment slipping naturally off her tongue as it had countless times in the past. But it no longer held any meaning to you, not when you had just witnessed everything before your very own eyes. You didn’t respond beyond throwing the two coins down at her feet with a knowing look, a silent callback to the promise that the two of you had made. The coins clinked softly as they fell onto the fine ash that lines the shores of the River Styx, falling on top of each other.

Horror filled her features as she realized just exactly what you were doing down in the Underworld, and her eyes fell upon the thin scar that ran just along the jugular vein on your neck.

The one spot she had taught you to go for on an opponent if anything ever threatened your life, and you had used it on yourself to have a chance at forever with her. A chance that had been wasted.

“You- you didn’t-” she began, choking on her own words as tears filled her eyes at the thought of it, and the sight of you, now in front of her, very obviously dead. 

“It was for you, ‘Risse, but it seems I really was just a rebound after all.” You spat out, a dangerously bitter edge to your voice as you looked her up and down. 

“These,” you gestured to the coins on the ground, “were supposed to be for us, for the promise you made. But I guess I was the one foolish enough to listen to you, to fall for you in the first place.”

“Enjoy your time in Elysium, La Rue, and know that you were the cause of my death. Don’t forget. On the River Styx.” 

That last statement was the final nail in her metaphorical coffin. No one made a promise on the infamous river and broke it, not without terrible consequences. Any and all chances of her getting into the paradisal side of the Underworld were dashed in mere moments as the realization dawned on her about the gravity of her mistake. 

You bent down and picked up one of the coins on the ground and left without a word, turning on your heel and disappearing back into the crowd of souls before Clarisse could utter another word. 

You had left her with two choices by giving her that one coin: to take the coin for herself and cross with Charon with hopes of trying to win you back and leaving the Aphrodite girl in the dust, or giving it to Silena and letting her go because she was clearly the girl the daughter of Ares loved most. Either way, she lost something.

Her last name was right. You rued the day you ever met Clarisse.

[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.)

[freddie-77-ao3]

okay but everything's alright universe where kronos never happens and instead we get a short what if about lee and luke getting married and silena is planning the wedding because she WILL NOT take no for an answer and she had clarisse fight a priest for her bc the priest said something about the flower arrangement and she sent chris and beckendorf the food she told them to cater months ago but they forgot so now they're panicking on what to do and there's a minor subplot where will is going deranged because his brother is getting married and so drew and lou ellen are trying to get him to drink for the first time and lee catches on but he employs CECIL and MALCOLM of all people to make sure he stays sober and travis and katie show up seven minutes late and 100% soggier to reception after the ceremony bc they were making out and fell into the pool and-- point is it would be hilarious

[evilwrongdoer]

can we please talk about percy jackson deciding to be the prophecy kid so as to protect nico. can we talk about may castellan who waited years for her son to return only for him to never do so. about percy only surviving the river Styx because of annabeth. can we talk about zoe and bianca and the sacrifices they made. can we talk about clarisse taking care of chris when he had been driven insane by the labyrinth. can we talk about charles beckendorf looking at a photo of silena before entering battle on the princess andromeda and also the grief silena went through after finding out he died. can we talk about when beckendorf told nico he would stay in elysium to wait for someone (silena obv). can we talk about calypso. can we talk about hestia, goddess of the hearth who had to give her spot to dionysus who had just freshly become a god.

i havent even finished reading the last olympian yet but i am in tears.

[reddamselette]

sketch/art of silena beauregard and katie gardner’s polaroid picture from when they first met in the retelling (i love them, my girls)

silena is on the left and katie is on the right

[diaruchann]

My art doesn't do well on Tumblr but here I go anyway-

I worked in this for around 20 hours art + editing and it was solely for the purpose of getting the images of PJO to this song out my head lol

It gets better towards the end if I say so myself-

[tanaka-drew]

yeah i'm a drew tanaka apologist and what about it? drew was close to silena because they grew up together, them being both 7 when they joined camp half-blood, a dove guiding them home.

aphrodite cabin was empty but slowly, silena and drew built it up, decorating it with items that reminded them of their mom. silena planted roses around their cabin, drew places a wind chime made out seashells outside the main window. they organized the closets, and argued how many beds should they set up.

"do you think they'd like dolphin-themed sheets?" drew pondered as she tucks the cover.

silena giggles. "mom says lacy likes them."

as time went on, their siblings start arriving and for awhile, the cabin was full of love.

so it cuts deep when drew found out that silena betrayed them. contrary to popular belief, romantic love wasn't her first heartbreak; it was with familial love she has for silena.

[dollysilena]

hi friends ! to those who read imperfect for you and were interested in getting a few more chapters, what are some tropes / concepts you would like to see / things you enjoy seeing in stories ? ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[pain-is-too-tired]

Thinking about pretty boy Lee again.

Lot of it comes from how kind and lighthearted and just caring they are.

Of course they're physically attractive, but having an attractive personality helps.

He has few scars littered on his body. Most from accidents in the archery range with new kids. But he also has three scars along his face.

One on his ear, one just under his eye, and the other across his nose. The three use to be more connected before they healed. An accident during training with Luke when they were younger. He doesn't think much of them, but it's hard not to notice them.

Somehow, the scars seem to add to their beauty. Telling of how resilient they are, and how much he involves himself in his duties to camp and his fellow demigods.

He's a worthy opponent in a fight, and it's hard to miss just how skilled he is during capture the flag. He's especially excellent with ambush tactics. He works great during dusk and dawn especially, and why weaker at night he's learned to work with what he's got.

He also has a bracelet, a gift from his father, that works like a sun globe. If he's in need of energy similar to the sun, he can use that during a fight or sneakingly before one.

Overall, he's kind and nurturing, but he's not defenseless. Something that definitely adds to his attraction.

I am just imagining tho,some the older queer campers(or just queer campers in general) are hanging out sometime after everyone starts coming out and such after the giant war.

And one person's like "okay. How many's awakening was Lee Fletcher?"

And like half the older campers raise their hands.

The newer campers are like "What??? Who???"

[ask-princessandromeda]

I'm sorry, but I've had an intense recurring vision, my nosebleed is not going to calm down and I'm angry...

Apollo, Father, what the fuck!? Do you really not remember Georgina!?

I understand that you have just been deprived of immortality and all the benefits associated with it, like a great memory and the ability to change your body at will... but fuck Georgina, like me, has a mortal father and you created her yourself! I made her out of clay myself and revived her in the sun's fire, about the fact that her mortal father was a teenager, I'm silent Because even talking about it is disgusting.

But no, you just look at her with the eyes of a dead fish and say, "Maybe... I really don't remember."

But I'm glad that at least you can feel the guilt and it's eating away at you from the inside. [eyes shine with a greenish light. Puffing viciously, blood from the nose runs further down the face and neck, staining the collar of dress].

Silena: *kneeling next to Kore* Oh my gods… Your damn father again. I’m so sorry, dear, I understand. But please, breath in, dear, breathe in and out. I don’t want you to pass out from blood loss…

Chris: *nervously flapping his hands around* Let me… *hands Kore a tissue package, then grabs her hand carefully*

Chris: I cannot fucking believe I’m saying this, I’m never the one to try and appease the anger we have at the gods, but please, pause at bit. You’re destroying yourself, Kore, it’s worrying looking at you in this state. Please?

Ethan: *sitting next to Kore, placing his hand on her shoulder* Hey, um…

Ethan: You know? I think that you’re very right, and entitled to being angry! I’m sure everyone here will agree. *looks at Al, who is muttering something under his breath, with his gaze fixed on Kore* It’s beyond my understanding how someone can forget his own child! Or rather be willfully ignorant to the life they brought into the world… How is that even possible? How utterly soulless, cowardly and disgusting… I apologize, I’m getting angry as well. But yeah, I could not give the faintest fuck about Apollo lossing his powers or whatever.

Chris: *smiles lightly* In fact, I’m pretty sure that he deserves it. He at the very least needs to learn what humanity means… He claims to be its protector god or something, but really, he doesn’t understand anything about us.

Silena: *raising a corner of her mouth* Or he doesn’t want to.

Ethan: Hmh.

Silena: Al, what are you muttering there? Are you praying? You’re usually the first one to talk when we start to mock Olympus!

Alabaster: Sorry. I tried a spell, but medical-related magic is not my strong suit. You’re doing waayy better than me at comforting people… I’m sorry, Kore. You’re right. Georgina deserves better. And Apollo needs some punishment…

[nvirskies]

HEAR 👂 ME✋ OUT 🤗 Silena and Clarisse with a very sunshine and all around happy energy gf 😓. Doesn’t really matter which god/dess they’re born from but I’ve been feining for ruegard x reader 😩

HI ANON OKAY THIS IS SO CUTE AND RAAAAHHHHH but i've been in a writer's block lately so you're going to have to settle for short headcanons and some thoughts rn but ty anon for this ask!! forgive me for any mischaracterizations of silena, it's been a long while since i last read the books

maybe something to make up for tddupats? sorry to whomever i caused ruegard trauma to :(

also this is kind of self insert indulgence because i dont ever see masc and/or butch pairings with either clarisse or silena (besides ruegard itself)

warnings: none, just fluff, stream of thoughts at this point, ending alludes to hickeys & making out

taglist: @star-girl69 @lvrue @azrielspeaks @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover (taglist open!)

silena beauregard x clarisse la rue x fem!masc-leaning reader

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, terfs, 16-/19+ dni

maybe apollo cabin or hephaestus cabin reader if i had to pin it down? infectious energy + smile and maybe himbo-ish? (himbo as a compliment)

silena would have to beg you and bribe you with extra cuddles to let her do makeup on you which always works

but any time you (begrudgingly) agree to it, somehow you end up with more lipstick marks on your neck than blots of foundation?

however could that happen? i wonder...

silena claims that she just has to wipe her excess lip stain somewhere and that there aren't enough wipes in the cabin to use for every single color she wants to try out...

of course you can never stay mad at her for long, but whenever you go out there are always stares and quiet comments about it

you're in a camp full of emotionally charged teenagers - what did you expect walking out there with your neck looking like a sephora test swab in the lipstick section?

but clarisse always swoops in at the right moment, coming up to stand behind you, arm wrapped around your waist with a glare hard enough that it could rival medusa's

"you'll do well to back off unless you want your neck to match hers but in bruises?"

after they scurry off, clarisse's glare completely melts and she looks at you like you're the only light in her life

which is partially right with the inclusion of silena

"i'm assuming Si gave you those, baby? gods above, you have to stop falling for her tricks"

"but she promised extra cuddles!"

pouting from your side

which was true, aforementioned daughter of Aphrodite promised she would get one of the aphrodite cabin's back rooms for the evening for the three of you

clarisse just shakes her head, fighting off a smile at your pout

"come on, let's go pay Si a visit? get some payback to what she did to you, poor thing"

needless to say, silena would be the one needing copious amounts of concealer the next morning

[tragedykery]

rating: T

relationships: Silena Beauregard/Clarisse La Rue, minor Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf

additional tags: Fluff and Angst, Oblivious Silena Beauregard, Feelings Realisation

word count: 6560

written for @sapphic-summer-riordanverse day 4 & 5: "fruit" + "history repeats itself"

It was comfortable to lie here like this, with her head in Clarisse’s lap, talking and eating and watching the sunset work its magic upon the landscape. She felt warm inside, giddy and content and free. Here, in this moment, she was the happiest she had ever been.

(If only she had known what was to come.)

[Silena and Clarisse go strawberry picking together.]

[berylgrace]

Our Last Summer (Final Chapter)

Summary: Ever wondered what happened that summer? Go back in time twenty years, and meet the handsome fellas that had Annabeth singing "My my, I could never let you go!"

A Mamma Mia! AU prequel.

Chapter Eight

“Oh, fuck.” If there was a better way to express the lightning bolt of panic that shot through Annabeth and jolted her very core, she didn’t have the mental capacity, or the luxury of time, to conjure it up. It was bizarre, how she felt herself go hot and cold all at once; her face, eyes and throat burning, her blood like ice in her veins. Somewhere in her shock, she dropped the pastry, which managed to bounce off her plate and roll across the floor, out of sight. At least that was one problem solved, and she didn’t have to try and eat the fucking thing. That said, her stomach churned as she considered the much larger problem looming over her, and she decided she would’ve much rather stumbled her way through a deeply unwanted breakfast amid waves of nausea, than spend a second longer in such a state of dread. 

Read on AO3

[little-engineer-who-cant]

The ramifications of Cassie Sandsmark

Part 10 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

Note: Cassie herself does not have much of a presence in this story. This is about the implications of her existence and how her presence affects those who lived through the Titan War.

“Tell me father, which do you ask forgiveness for: what I am or what I am not? Tell me mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn’t?”

- thoughts of a stray iii (m.a.w)

He finally goes to one of those stupid charity galas Bruce always throws. Dick’s pestered him so much, Jason’s been to enough dinners where he’s subject to subtle hints, sad eyes and pointed looks from his various other-

(Oh, please, do go on.)

The others are nothing. Dick is his only sibling. Dick’s pestered him enough that Jason’s finally given in to his requests to come to at least one gala.

“Are you sure about this?” Silena asks him for the first time in two hours but it feels like the millionth for how many times he’s asked himself the same question.

(Sounds like you have your answer then.)

(Yeah, I do.)

“I am,” he replies, hand curling in a tight fist around the gear shift. The plastic creaks. “I… Maybe you can find something. Out. About. Um. Yeah.”

“Jason.” Their fingers slot together over the knob before she pulls his grip away from damaging the car and onto the leather-covered console instead. He’s transfixed by the small scars on her knuckles, nearly invisible but he knows what to look for. What to look beyond. No one else will know a thing. “I know you hate it. You don’t need to bring me.”

“You’ll go out anyway.” Her measured inhale, the start of a calm argument, confirms it. “Can I ask that, just for tonight, you hunt where I can see you?”

“Will it help you more if I hunt or if I back you up?” He tips his head back on the headrest, swearing under his breath.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I don’t want any more eyes on you. I don’t want… anyone else to find you.”

“Jason,” she squeezes his fingers, he looks over. She’s beautiful in the blinding flare of the setting sun, heavy eyes and drawn lips and resigned shoulders. “Love. They’ll find me eventually.”

“I know.” It’s not in his power to keep her a secret. Hasn’t been since he ran to her, since he revealed… Everything. 

“If we know they’re coming…”

“We can better prepare.” He still can’t let her go, can’t open the door and let this world in, let it touch her. 

(Kill her.)

He swears again, vicious words breaking free until she stifles them with a finger over his lips. 

“I’ve hidden for a long time,” she decides for them both, and he loves her for it because he can’t. “But the world’s spun on. Show me.”

“It left me behind too,” he reminds her. But he’s opening the door, stepping out and so is she, smiling brightly over the top of the flashy sports car.

“Then let’s rediscover it?” He loves her, he swears by every god in the privacy of his heart, letting it flow over his being and into her. Framed in sunlight with the jewels in her ears and around her neck shining bright, she gleams like cut crystal as she glides over to him. The slight pull of the scar on her cheek begs him to press his lips to her, to taste the proof of her reality. “I’m braver when you’re beside me.” 

“Let’s be brave together then,” he gives into the impulse, kissing just below her eye, on the teardrop he knows is burned into her skin. Her lips brush the J on his skull, the spider web across his temple. 

“We fit in at least,” Silena whispers as they leave the car and climb the stairs, squeezing his hand tight. He can feel the tremble in her as eyes turn their way, the people dotted across the front lawn and entry gardens taking note of strange faces in rich clothes and fine jewels. Their eyes linger on the royal blue of her flowing skirts, the streak of white in his hair, the way their fingers knotted together screams mine.

It’s only her shaking hand in his that keeps him from fleeing as the doors open on a fancy ballroom, away from all this false glitz and glamor and back out into the cesspool city. Only her equally nervous presence among these hordes of wealthy liars swarming around them and his promise to Dick, who is nowhere to be seen.

Jason leads them to the bar. Those fancy flutes of champagne aren't either of their style.

The eyes make him nervous. Everyone seems to be staring. Of course they are, Silena is beautiful, bright and magnificent on his arm, looking like she belongs among the painstakingly carved Master statues dotting the room. He cleans up well enough.

The bartender takes Silena’s order. Then his.

Shoes shiny enough to be mirrors tap nervously, his jaw tensing and clicking before he forces out another breath to relax, only to wind himself back up again. There’s nothing Silena can do about it but temper his agitated appearance with her own calm and benign one.

Her drink comes first. His hands twitch for lack of anything to do.

It’s been a year, at least, since they walked in the door. 

“Maybe you could help me?” she asks him softly, looking up through her lashes as his head whips to her.

“Help you with what?” he bites out but she can clearly taste that the annoyed anger is not aimed at her so she blows out a breath and lets it go. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she soothes, running a hand down his arm and his heart flutters a bit. “But I am a bit lost. Perhaps you can point out some people for me?” 

His drink arrives. He drains half of it. Stops. Breathes. Follows her tug away from the bar and towards a potted fern that’s relatively unoccupied.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, but there’s a defeated edge to it. Pointing people out, analyzing the situation under the guise of helping her navigate it, it will take the worst edges off his strain. She can make very educated guesses as to who these people are, but that doesn’t help Jason at all so she’ll play ignorant for his sake.

Bruce hasn’t shown himself.

“Start by pointing out Bruce’s horde,” she suggests. “So I know when they start showing up on my doorstep.”

“Okay,” Jason takes a deep breath. “Over there, with the blonde hair, that’s Stephanie…”

—

“That’s Connor Kent.” Jason points at the dark haired teenager talking to Tim and looking distinctly uncomfortable in the fancy environment.

“Ah. And who’s she?” She nods to the cute blonde girl hovering by Tim and the newly identified Connor.

“That’s Cassie Sandsmark.” Abruptly, Jason looks uncomfortable. Silena tilts her head at him. “I…” he blows out a hard breath, then slumps against the door-frame they’ve taken refuge in, “it completely slipped my mind or I would have said something sooner. She’s one of Tim’s friends, so I steer clear but…”

“Spit it out, Jason.”

“... She’s a daughter of Zeus.” Silena’s heart freezes in her chest. 

“What.”

“I… Yeah.” The confirmation, the lack of arguing, the lack of… anything, it cuts her to the core, spills her intestines out across this fine ball except she’s all cinched into her lovely silks, blood stained and shining like a diamond.

Panicking.

“How old is she?” The girl looks to be older, too old- if she was born after the war, she’d be barely out of diapers. You know what this means.

“What?”

“How old is she?” Jason blinks at her like he’s never seen her before. Maybe he hasn’t. She can’t remember ever being this angry since she’s met him. Defeated? Yes. Resigned? Yes. Wildly trying to hold her life together with both desperate hands? Absolutely yes. But this rage? This she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“... Sixteen? Seventeen? Right around Tim I think.”

“I have to go.” 

“Silena-” She doesn’t wait, she can’t be here. I can’t see her . She can’t see this child, she’s a child, you can’t blame her, it’s not her fault-

But she’s everything we could have had.

Acknowledgement. Openness. Freedom. She fights in the open, with heroes she can call on if something goes wrong. Not scurrying around street corners, praying a hungry monster doesn’t find you for lunch and with nowhere to go but the next ditch big enough to hide in, no one to call, no way to call without getting caught. Not bleeding out on concrete and screaming for a parent who won’t answer. 

“Hello?” Dick Grayson is in front of her, blinking in confusion, then his eyes flick up to where Jason is undoubtedly barging his way after her, if he gets to me I’ll spill my guts and he’ll do something rash, I have to leave- “I’m sorry, you must be-”

“Give me a five minute head start?” she bargains sweetly, the words sticking to the inside of her mouth like thick honey, coating the air in sickeningly pink spun sugar, making him blink heavily before he smiles widely and pats her shoulder.

“Of course. Explain why later?”

“Thank you.” If she ever sees this brother again, she’ll lie and he’ll believe her. That’s the way of things. 

“Better get moving,” he scoots out of her way, putting his body between her and her pursuer, your sacrifice will be remembered. “Jason! Buddy!”

She gets farther than she expected, sees the light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a side door, damn, maybe I will give Dick a few grains of truth, when it all goes to hell. Jason is too damned perceptive and adaptive and he knows her too well, gods damn it all why am I seeing a vigilante? She has to be at the top of her game to lose him and unfortunately, that means she loses focus on everything else pretty fucking quick. 

That means she runs straight into the object of her ire. Right into Cassie Sandsmark.

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” I can’t do this. “You’re new, are you Jason’s girlfriend that Tim told me about? I’ve been hoping to meet you. Everyone has, they talk about you so much!” I can’t do this. “Right! Where are my manners? Hi, my name’s Cassie,” the girl sticks out her hand, beaming at Silena who swallows around bile and her own, gut searing hate.

“Anna.” That’s who she is to this city, always will be but to a certain few. Silena Beauregard is dead to the world. Just like so many others but here you fucking are-

“Nice to meet you Anna, are you enjoying the party?”

“I was just about to leave, actually.” Lying is like breathing, she is a child she’s not to blame. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Get some rest and feel better?” Jason is getting close, having finally shaken Dick, his face a terrible mix of  thunderousfuriousconcernedscared and she has to go or she’s going to turn into a blubbering mess in the middle of this fancy gala, screaming for justice from beings that don’t care anyways right in front of the girl who’s entire existence is a slap in the face to so many dead children. 

“I will, thank you.” And she fucking books it.

—

Thalia picks up on the first ring, thank the gods.

“I can’t talk for long.”

“It’s Silena.” Giving her the option to just hang up right out the gate, to take the guilt off Silena’s own shoulders. If Thalia brushes her off, she won’t call back. Their truce only extends as far as wounded Hunters in the wrong place at the worst time.

“... Why did you call me?” This is not one of those times.

“I…” Do you have to give her this pain? “This was a mistake, I’m sorry-”

“Silena, wait.” There’s a long moment of silence between them, separated by caverns of miles and loyalties and morals. Cinched together by blood, and there’s nowhere else to go- “Why did you call?”

“Wonder Girl,” she whispers, this is a mistake. “I…”

“What about her?” 

“Never mind, I shouldn’t say-”

“Silena.”

“... She’s a kid, Thalia. None of us should hate her but…” Silena buries her head in her hands, yanking at handfuls of her hair just to feel the grounding pain in her scalp. “I had to leave, I couldn’t stay.” 

“What does this have to do with why you called me?”

“She’s a daughter of Zeus and she’s sixteen.” Silence. Utter silence. She stares at the charred ground where she's burned dozens of other demigods, ones far less powerful than the girl running around at the gala now without a fear in the world. Dozens who had been hunted, mangled, chewed up and spit back out only to be kicked down to Hades without so much as a by-your-leave. “I’m sor-”

“Thank you for telling me,” Thalia’s voice is a raw whisper through the already crackling speaker. 

Click.  

Silena pulls the phone from her ear. Probably for the best, she’s pushed her luck far enough already. She’s not that far from Gotham, nor is she that insane. Zeus had one fucking job and he had to fuck it up twice?

There’s a rustle behind her. You didn’t get away fast enough.

“How much did you hear?” Only his perfectly shined dress shoes are visible in her left peripheral, coming to a silent stop next to her, both of them staring at the burned ground. It’s an olive branch.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to use a phone?”

“Hm.”

“Silena.” 

“This is where I burn them,” she admits, curling around herself. “The ones who don’t make it. A shroud, two drachma and prayers to see them down to Hades.” She’s losing her battle with tears. “I… She’s a child, it’s not her fault. But… she’ll never know. She’s been so safe and she doesn’t even know it. How…” shoving her face into her knees, she loses the war against her enraged despair completely. “How am I supposed to look at her, knowing Thalia? Knowing Nico? Percy? Knowing what I did? And Zeus just went out and broke his oath again with no regards and she’s sixteen, Jason! Thalia will never be sixteen! Nico lost seventy years because Zeus was so fucking afraid of Hades that he wanted to kill Nico! Bianca lost those same seventy years for nothing because now she’s dead! And Percy had to give Luke the knife that Luke used to take his own life and he lives with that-” her body is shaking uncontrollably, but she can’t stop, this has built up for too long. Throwing her head backwards, she glares up at the hidden stars her mother, her enemy, lives among and screams- “We were all children, why was she the one that was spared?!” 

The silence is an answer in itself.

“Why her?” she whispers, knowing he doesn’t have an answer and never will. There is no answer. Not really. “Why her?” 

—

“What would life have been like?” Clarisse tips her head back, staring at where the stars would have been if Gotham wasn’t covered in a large veil of light pollution. “To just,” she snaps her fingers, “turn it all off?”

“Normal.” Silena grinds her chin deeper into her forearms. “Gods…”

“They’re the ones that got us into this mess, cupcake.”

“Shut up.” But it’s half-hearted at best. Clarisse chuckles, her hip pressing into Silena’s shoulder in a familiar streak of warmth. 

“Do we tell her?” That’s the million dollar question. Do we tell her? Tell her what exactly? Tell her about the horrors she’d missed? About the sister who gave up normality to prevent a prophecy that never even touched Cassie? About the piles of bodies left the wake of godly ambitions, the piles yet to come?

“I don’t know. On one hand, she should know she’s not alone, that there are a bunch of us out there. But on the other…”

“She’s missed all this shit. We shouldn’t drag her in just because we’re jealous.” Jealous. That’s the one word Silena’s been avoiding and Clarisse threw it out like it was no big deal. Jealous.  

Because that’s just it, isn’t it? She’s jealous that Cassie Sandsmark has gotten this far relatively scot-free. That there’s a large chance the girl doesn’t wake up at stupid o’clock every night, body tight and breathing quick, soaked in sweat and biting back screams. Clawing at her own face, straining in vain to see from a useless eye.

“I used to wonder why Mom hated me,” Silena admits quietly. Clarisse exhales. “When I got to camp. Why didn't she love me enough to make sure the monsters never found me? Why couldn’t I live with my normal family? Mom had to hate me, because if she didn’t, then I could go home without something trying to eat my little brother when we went for a walk. But I figured out that all the gods hate their children, don’t they? In some way, they all hate us eventually. Because we fail. We’re mortal. We’re not perfect. They put us up to impossible tasks again and again until we fail.” Clarisse’s hand trembles as she runs it through Silena’s hair. “But I think…” Silena swallows around the realization she stumbled across far too young, “our worst sin is that we’re not them.” 

Clarisse slides to the grating, sitting down next to where Silena is slumped and leans their temples together. Neither of them speak again, two jealous daughters of unsatisfied gods offering each other empty comfort. What else is there to say?

—

“You mean to tell me,” her knuckles are white where they’re clenched in her lap, out of Tim Drake’s sight, “that Zeus gave her mother the ability to turn her powers off?” Jason left with Dick to do something likely illegal and to keep her away from at least one curious Bat. Otherwise, she might let her trigger happy boyfriend drop-kick a child and that impulse was not something she wanted to examine right now.

Not when she has to entertain someone who broke into her apartment on behalf of a friend she wants to stab a little more than this particular interloper. Which is also not an impulse she’s particularly fond of examining.

“Yeah,” Tim nods as he takes another deep gulp of the black-as-night coffee that she keeps stocked for her revolving door of child soldiers running on fumes. If Tim bitches that she only keeps Jason’s preferred brand and uses a drip pot instead of a French press like Dick did not even two hours ago, she might lose what little of her shit she has left. “It was a whole thing, right? Like they lied to her all her life, but they’re cool now.”

“Cool now,” she mumbles, feeling the skin of her palms give under the pressure of her newly filled acrylic nails. She smiles as vacantly as she is able through clenched teeth. “I’ve just never heard of something like that before.”

“I don’t think demigoddesses are exactly around every corner, do you?” he grins at her and she smirks back like they’re sharing a joke instead of it being on him. “And daughters of Zeus at that.” It takes every bit of five years of you’re a spy discipline for the red in her vision to recede enough that she can actually see that Tim has sobered again. “She’s had a rough go of it,” he continues quietly, swirling his coffee, “with everyone having lied to her, even Diana. But she’s doing better.” 

“That’s good.” I have never hated another human so much without knowing them and this is a fucking child, it is not her fault, you know that it’s not her fault, get a hold of yourself you insane woman-

“And I was talking to her and she says she’s sorry for whatever she did that made you run away from her?” She can’t fix that. “She swears she won’t hurt anyone, she has control of her powers.” Her nails pop out of her palms. There’s blood, she can feel it drip, drip, dripping all over her hands. Where it belongs.

“I’m not worried that she’ll hurt me.” Hero or not, the girl would be hard pressed to go against Silena, who can hamstring her with a few words. Cassie’s powers are the least harmful thing about her. “I was having a rough night.” Smiling, Silena weaves a tale like she has so many times before and Tim is none the wiser, “and I really wasn’t making a good impression. For that, I apologize to everyone involved.”

“Have you apologized to Jason? He seemed really worried.” Whatever detente Bruce’s two wards have come to, it’s clearly only a ceasefire on Jason’s end. Likely for Dick’s sake. But what does it mean to Tim? Obviously more, by the way he’s expressing concern for Jason. It’s sweet, if not a little bit sad. There will always be a barrier between them, Silena knows, and it’s a barrier that Bruce put there.

“He was the first person I talked to.” There wasn’t a need for an apology. Jason had just held her as she cried in the graveyard. Jason had carried her home and refused to leave her side. He’d been the one to call Clarisse. 

“That’s good. He really seems to like you. Talked to Dick about you a lot. Enough that Dick mentioned you to us. We’ve all been wanting to meet you. And he brought you to the gala, so he really likes you.” 

“Hm.” I know. She can taste his love and she knows Jason knows she can too. He doesn’t hide it. “I like him too.” There’s a lot more than like there. If she wasn’t so sure that Aphrodite would take it as an insult that Silena even got a drip of happiness, she’d do her damndest to keep him. You already are, come what may.  

If a drop of water can keep a man from dying, this sliver of happiness might be what saves her soul.

“I can tell,” Tim takes another sip of coffee, like that will hide the goofy little grin he’s trying to smother. “Dick said you’re the first, um, normal person who’s been around? Shit, that sounds bad, but like I mean it like you’re not a superhero- Ah, I’m bungling this-”

“I get it, I get it.��� And she does understand the sentiment, even if it’s not wholly correct. To everyone on the outside, she’s a simple office worker who caught the Red Hood’s eye enough for him to let her near. The Red Hood himself, however, knows the truth is very different and that’s why he’s letting her get so close to other heroes. 

“Are you ever afraid?” Tim asks.

“Hm?”

“Of what might happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, how the Joker might come after you?” Kronos had me in his maw. “That you might get hurt?” I’m blind in one eye and have scars to prove I survived the impossible. “That someone might, I don’t know, turn on you to get to Jason?” I turned on people I loved and they died for it.

“No.” She’s done all that and more already. “No. I’ll take whatever comes and I’ll face it as best I can. I’m not going to live in a shadow of fear.” 

“You’re braver than a lot of people.” She shrugs.

“I’m alive,” she replies simply, “and sometimes those two are the same thing.”

“Huh,” Tim chuckles, taking a very deep drag of coffee. “Philosophical. No wonder you and Jason get along.” She smiles again, wiping her bloody palm discreetly on a napkin before taking a sip of her own tea. Swallows down peppermint and a million secrets next to Tim’s butterscotch curiosity. “Will you tell me what his favorite book is? I’m looking for Christmas ideas and I really want to get on his good side. All things considered,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I know it’s not like my fault but I still feel bad for, I dunno, usurping him? Even if he was dead. And I know he’s still mad, so I was thinking I’d get him something really nice? Like a first edition of a book or a signed copy or something? I don’t know, do you have any better ideas?”

“I think…” Silena tilts her head at Tim and makes a mental note to talk to Jason about what exactly had happened between them later. “You’re at a good starting point. And he doesn’t have a good collection of the classics anymore. I’d recommend The Odyssey.” Tim nods, clearly thinking hard. “But, if you really want to do something extraordinary,” he perks up as she grins over the rim of her mug. “I think his old collection is still at the Manor and he hasn’t managed to sneak all of it out yet.”