#we're doing it folks! we're gonna hit bingo!

[thaliagrayce]

Tactical Improvisation

Link: ao3 Pairing: Jason Grace/Nico di Angelo Fandom: Percy Jackson & the Olympians Tags: Canon Divergence - Cupid Scene AU, Humor

Word Count: 3,057

Summary:

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico interrupted, stance and voice defiant. He held his sword at the ready as dust and wind whipped around him. Jason tried to vault over a column that had collapsed in between the two of them, but a fresh clump of rubble was hurled his way by the invisible god when he got too close to it. YES YOU DO, SON OF— “Jason already knows I’m gay.”

(or; Nico and Jason follow the rules of improv and "yes, and—" their way into a different outcome in Split.)

“Enough games!” Nico shouted at the invisible god, anger and pain writ plain across his face. “Show yourself!”

Jason kept his eyes open, desperate for any hint of where Cupid might be hiding in these ruins. As it had every time, the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. How were they supposed to get Diocletian’s Scepter from this guy if he didn’t ever show his face?

POOR NICO DI ANGELO. The god’s voice was tinged with disappointment. YOU LIE TO EVEN YOURSELF. HOW DO YOU EXPECT—

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico interrupted, stance and voice defiant. He held his sword at the ready as dust and wind whipped around him. Jason tried to vault over a column that had collapsed in between the two of them, but a fresh clump of rubble was hurled his way by the invisible god when he got too close to it.

YES YOU DO, SON OF—

“Jason already knows I’m gay.”

Several emotions washed over Jason in succession, too quickly for him to place any of them. They left behind a lingering sense of panic. What? He wanted to look over at Nico, but that would give away the ruse. If they were to avoid angering the god further, Jason had to appear as if none of this was new to him. He kept his face straight as he tried (and failed) to ignore the confused and confusing squirming in his gut. This is no big deal, he tried to tell himself.

But was it? Nico probably wasn’t the first gay person Jason had met, was he? Nobody else came to mind, but that really wasn’t saying a lot. Nothing came to mind for the first fifteen and a half years of Jason’s life. He’d probably met another person—gods nonwithstanding—who liked the same sex, so this nervous excitement was completely irrational.

WHAT.

Oh, right. The quest. A god had just been lied to, and Jason needed to help sell the lie if the two of them wanted to get out of here unscathed. He wasn’t the world’s best liar, but Cupid was being real pushy. The first thing Jason had ever known for certain about himself after waking up on that bus was that he hated bullies.

“He told me.” Jason dodged a falling piece of rubble that had been teetering on top of a nearby pillar. Other than that, the battlefield had mostly calmed down. “I already knew.” Jason was sweaty. He didn’t know if it was the normal amount of mid-battle sweatiness.

YOU WHAT?

If Cupid stayed confused and kept talking, Jason and Nico could probably pinpoint where he was and get close to him without having to dodge monster arrows and rocks the size of kitchen appliances. Jason just had to keep him talking.

“Why are you being so weird about this? I never thought you would be a homophobe.”

The ground shuddered, and for a second, Jason thought that what he said had upset Nico. He’d seen the crack outside the dining pavilion at Camp Half Blood that Nico made when he got too upset, so he knew that Nico was more than capable of causing tremors. When Jason looked over, though, his questing partner looked almost exactly like he always did—serious expression, ready stance, black eyes alert and scanning the surroundings. The only hint that he might be under any sort of duress was that his face was paler than usual.

The weird squirming in Jason’s stomach came back. It made sense that Nico was gay, actually. He really was very pretty. It wasn’t a thought Jason had ever had before, but it was no less true for its novelty. His face wasn’t the type that you would see on polished magazines or blockbuster movies, but it had character. A unique sort of draw that made it hard to look away. Gay guys were supposed to be pretty, right?

The ground shook even harder, and both Jason and Nico stumbled.

HOMOPHOBE?!

Right. Jason tore his eyes away from Nico and fruitlessly tried to search for the now-probably-angry god.

“Yeah. You’re the only one making a big deal of this.” Nico’s voice had a bit of a waver to it that made Jason want to be over there to support him—like any good quest mate would—but he had to focus on other things right now. He could check up on Nico when they got back to the ship. Maybe they could actually have a conversation, get to know each other a bit. They were teammates now, after all.

The thought set off the squirming again.

YOU’RE LYING. YOU STILL HAVEN’T ACCEPTED YOURSELF, NICO DI ANGELO.

“I’m trying!” Nico snapped. The grass around his feet started to wilt and shrivel as his lip curled into a snarl. “Clearly! Isn’t this what you wanted? I told Jason. I’m making an effort.”

YOU CHOSE TO TELL THE ONLY PERSON ON THE SHIP LESS IN TOUCH WITH HIS EMOTIONS THAN YOURSELF.

Jason was momentarily blindsided by the sudden conversational pivot. For just a second, he was offended enough to forget he was speaking to a god.

“Wha— Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

PERFECT LITTLE SOLDIER, ALWAYS LIVING UP TO EVERYONE’S EXPECTATIONS. DO YOU KNOW YOUR OWN DESIRES, CHAMPION OF JUNO? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT TO LOOK FOR? MY BELOVED PSYCHE RISKED EVERYTHING IN THE NAME OF LOVE. IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO ATONE FOR HER LACK OF FAITH. AND YOU—WHAT HAVE YOU RISKED IN MY NAME?

“That’s not fair, I had my mind wiped.” The question shook him. Did he know what he wanted? He’d been going on autopilot basically since he woke up at the Grand Canyon, always thinking about the next step of the quest or what his friends needed. It had never seemed important to look inward. Other people came first, both in safety and in happiness. That was just how good leaders thought.

Wasn’t it?

“Lay off him,” Nico called out. “Weren’t you focused on me?”

YOU APPARENTLY DON’T NEED MY HELP, WHY SHOULD I FOCUS ON YOU?

“You call this help?”

SOMETIMES WE NEED TO CONFRONT OUT FAULTS IN ORDER TO KNOW OUR DESIRES.

“I’m fine, actually, sir.” Jason adjusted his grip on his sword. His hands were sweating. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need.”

SO YOU WILL STAY IN A RELATIONSHIP BUILT ON LIES AND TRY TO CONVINCE YOURSELF INTO LOVE?

Cupid was being a jerk, but he had a point. Jason had never really felt at ease in his relationship with Piper. He’d chalked it up to butterflies, but maybe he was wrong. Were butterflies supposed to make you feel anxious?

“I have no truth to act as counterpoint. If you know of anything I could do to get my memories back, maybe—”

Jason was interrupted by wave after wave of visions. No, memories. He never saw himself, but he knew instinctively that they were his. They felt right, they slotted into place in a way that some of the stories he’d heard about his past exploits as Praetor never did.

*

He was sitting on top of a wardrobe and hugging his knees to his chest in a room lined with empty beds—the barracks in Camp Jupiter, he knew in a flash. He was alone in the room until the door creaked open and a boy—young man, maybe—stepped in, clearly looking for something. He looked to be about eighteen or nineteen and had dark brown wavy hair and medium brown skin. When he finally spotted Jason’s hiding place, his dark eyes softened in a gentle sort of smile.

Jason remembered this. He remembered this. He’d been up there because it was nearing Halloween and some of the older legionaries had taken over the barracks commons to watch a scary movie. They’d goaded him into staying with them for most of it, but he got up partway through with the excuse that he had to use the bathroom and just… stayed away. This young man was a legacy of Ceres named Hadi. He was a cool older kid, well-respected among his peers and widely admired by the younger legionnaires. And here he was, holding his hand out to eleven-year-old Jason Grace, who got scared by some dumb movie and hid on top of a wardrobe.

“Hey, Jason. Come on down from there, I need some help making scones.” He’d held Jason’s hand for stability when Jason flew down and squeezed it once before letting go. It had made Jason feel special to be singled out like this, even though he knew that Hadi was just doing it to make him feel better after the movie. He didn’t really need help with the scones, either—Hadi was probably the best baker in all of New Rome—but having something to do in a brightly-lit kitchen kept Jason’s mind off of the gory movie. He’d gotten batter on his cheek at some point and Hadi laughed when he pointed it out, his eyes all scrunched up and his smile radiant and—

Ba-thump, went Jason’s heart.

*

He was on the Field of Mars. The name came back to him the instant that he saw it sprawling before him, well-packed dirt and sporadic grass and a looming fortress that Jason somehow knew had been built just that morning. They were getting ready to play Siege, and Centurion Jason was instructing his troops on strategy for the game, but he kept stuttering and messing up.

Names of legionnaires came flooding back to Jason as he looked across the soldiers in his memory, but one stuck out in particular. Michael Kahale was a brand new recruit for the First Cohort and he was clearly paying attention when his commanding officer spoke, because Jason had never been more aware of someone’s eyes on him in his life. He accidentally looked Michael’s way again—dark eyes trained on him, dark hair just long enough to ruffle in the wind—and stumbled over his sentence. Some of the older legionnaires were starting to look concerned. This was incredibly out-of-character for Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, nearly longest-standing member of the legion.

Finally, Jason’s co-Centurion—Gwendolyn, her name was Gwendolyn—took mercy on him and took over the rest of the briefing. After it was done, she’d turned to him with concern.

“Are you feeling okay, Jason?”

Michael Kahale was still looking their way. Jason could feel the heat rise on his face and his heart trip in his chest. He managed some sort of response—the memory was murky—and took off flying to scout the enemy lines. Nobody could look at him up here, concerned colleagues or beautiful boys.

*

He woke up on a bus holding the hand of an objectively pretty girl and the biggest emotion he felt was confusion. He let go of her hand almost immediately, and evaded when she tried to take it back. The entire morning was confusing and he barely knew his own name and these two people that he’d never met before were claiming to be his best friends and all he knew for certain was that he didn’t belong here.

There was a boy along with them on the trip that rubbed Jason the wrong way instantly. He caught and held Jason’s attention. Later, Jason would put it down to battle senses and his instinct knowing a monster before he remembered that monsters existed, but for now…

Dylan was an arrogant jerk with a perfect smile and brilliant teeth. His hair was dark and curly and meticulously styled. He had a lean, athletic build that he wore in a way that made it clear he knew how to use the muscle he had—maybe part of some sports team or another, or maybe just active. Jason probably glared at him for longer than he needed to.

He didn’t care for Dylan a single bit, but still had one standout thought when the monster revealed his true form as a ventus: If angels could be evil, they would look exactly like this. The thought hadn’t struck Jason as strange at the time. He was starting to re-think that.

*

He was on a ship, surrounded by nothing but waves on either side. He faced the crow’s nest, where a boy stood by himself, looking out over the sea. His dark hair and too-big black shirt billowed around him in the wind. The boy was new here, and he was almost always alone. He intrigued Jason; why was he up there? Why had he gone on his quest alone? What motivated him to do something so dangerous? How did he survive?

Jason took a step into the air, and Nico di Angelo turned to look at him. Deep brown eyes flashed in the sunlight and Jason felt some sort of jolt in his gut, something he had written off as nerves about being so close to the son of Hades. The look on his face was guarded, like he expected the worst from Jason’s approach.

And that was the most novel part. Jason didn’t remember much, but he got the feeling he wasn’t used to having to work for someone’s attention and trust. Whether he liked it or not, a son of Jupiter drew the spotlight and the crowd. And yet, here was Nico. Alone. Guarded. Mistrustful.

Jason didn’t quite trust him yet, either, but he wanted to. Loneliness wasn’t unfamiliar to Jason, despite how frequently he was surrounded by people. He could see that same loneliness in Nico. He wanted to break through his guard, to be trusted. He wanted it with a ferocity he wasn’t used to.

It must have been something he was familiar with before his mind wipe, he’d thought at the time. Probably, he just liked making sure everyone on the team felt welcome. He dismissed any strange feelings and thoughts and kept moving, determined to actually hold a conversation this time.

*

“Okay!” Jason fought through the fog of memory, panic constricting his throat and making him too loud. “We’re caught up! I remember these memories now, Lord Cupid.”

LOVE DEMANDS HONESTY, BOY. HONESTY DEMANDS CLARITY. HAVE THESE MEMORIES GIVEN YOU CLARITY?

Jason glanced over at Nico, who turned out to be staring directly at him. His mouth was hanging open just a little bit. Jason snapped his eyes forward once again and had the sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t the only one who had seen that embarrassing movie reel of memories. It was great to know more about himself and his past, but Jason was starting to feel a little too known.

Oh gods, Nico had seen that last one.

Nothing to be done about it now but keep moving. Jason cleared his throat.

“Yes, Lord Cupid. I think I understand what you’re telling me.”

AND HOW WILL YOU EMBRACE THIS HONESTY?

Jason tried not to wince. “I… should probably break up with Piper, shouldn’t I?”

Cupid appeared right in front of him. He was beautiful—maybe not send his wife through harrowing trials because she dared to look upon his face beautiful, but strikingly pretty nonetheless—in a way that felt familiar. He had wavy black hair that reminded Jason of Hadi, and Michael Kahale’s attentive dark eyes, and a build that looked remarkably similar to Evil Dylan’s. Jason couldn’t manage to look at him for very long, and it had nothing to do with Cupid’s godly nature.

“That would be a good start, son of Jupiter.” He held out the scepter for Jason to take.

Nico picked his way toward them as the handoff took place, and Cupid turned his attention to him.

“Don’t think I believe your ruse, son of Hades. I let you off easy this time.”

The look Nico gave him wasn’t a glare, but it walked a razor wire to becoming one. “Your restraint is noted, Lord Cupid. May we go?”

Cupid snorted, obviously dissatisfied with that answer, but let it slide. “Yes, you may go. Remember my lessons, boys.” And in a puff of wind, he was gone. Jason was left alone in the ruins of a Roman palace with Nico di Angelo, who took a few steps closer to him.

That squirming in his gut was back.

Jason stared down at the scepter in his hands. It was longer than he had expected, about three feet of ivory with carvings so worn Jason couldn’t quite make out what they were originally intended to be. Three gold eagles held up a polished black orb that showed a distorted reflection of its surroundings. Jason studied the distended columns and his own warped face in favor of having to look anywhere else.

“That guy was an asshole,” Nico broke the tense silence. The derisive tone of voice and the words themselves were sudden and unexpected enough to startle a laugh out of Jason.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “he really was.” Jason looked at Nico’s reflection in the polished sphere on top of the scepter.

Dark, wavy hair. Big dark eyes. Lean but athletic build. He was shorter than Jason, which most of the other boys in the memory blast hadn’t been, but Jason thought he might actually like that better. And there was something more there, something about his bearing or the way he carried himself—Jason saw him standing alone on deck and he’d felt something resonate inside.

Not the line of thought to go down. He shook his head.

“Thank you for telling me. About yourself, I mean,” Jason clarified when Nico’s reflection in the scepter cocked its head. “That took a lot of courage, and I’m honored you trusted me enough to do it.”

“Yeah, well.” Nico shoved the toe of his boot into the gravel. “Sorry he took away your choice.”

Jason shrugged. “At least I know now.”

“Still,” Nico said.

“Still.” Jason finally looked up. Nico’s dark eyes were on him, as he knew they would be, but they looked almost… considering. Jason felt his face heat. “Back to the ship?” he suggested, holding out his hand.

Nico took it and grinned. His teeth were a little crooked and one of his canines stuck out, sharper than most people’s. The heat on Jason’s face spread to his ears.

“We’re going my way this time.” 

[whumpshaped]

Did anyone send "I wish I didn't heal" hoping for baby vampire beck yet? If not, I am politely requesting :) (I don't actually know if beck is gonna get turned, so feel free to make it an AU or do this one with Helle)

thank u so much🥺 AND MANY BINGOS. WE'RE ALMOST THERE FOLKS

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, burns, conditioning, manipulation

"N-no, no, please, I'm sorry–"

Beck couldn't believe how quickly the night had taken a turn for the worse.

"Please, I'm sorry–"

First, getting spotted by a group of humans, which had already scared him half to death. In large enough numbers, humans meant danger. A fact that he had been keenly aware of ever since that day when the hunters broke in months ago.

"I'll listen, I'll listen–"

He'd panicked. Helle had told him to stay put and they'd take care of it, and he'd panicked and run instead — an offence they seemed all too eager to punish him for.

"I am telling you to stay still," Helle said quietly, the silver knife still hovering right above his cheek. "How could I ever keep you safe if you refuse to do what I say?"

"I got scared, p-please, I just got scared–"

Helle pulled the knife away and slapped him, hard enough to shut him up. He couldn't remember when they'd started hitting him, but it must've been a while ago, because it didn't seem strange anymore. They grabbed him by the face, holding him still as they lowered the knife to his vulnerable skin; not touching, not yet.

"Are you scared now?" they asked gently, and Beck didn't understand how they could sound like that while simultaneously threatening and hurting him.

"Y-yes, Master."

"Good. Then this is a perfect setting to teach you that no matter how scared you get, you listen to me."

His eyes flickered to the knife, the constant threat of fresh burns making him lightheaded. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be burned. He just got scared, that was all, he wasn't disobeying on purpose, he was just scared.

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to compose himself. "Yes, Master," he choked out.

Helle took their hand away, allowing Beck to move if he so chose. The knife remained, making it incredibly difficult for him not to squirm. "Good. I know you must think me quite unfair right now, but believe me... this is for your own good. I know how to handle humans, and you have to learn how to listen in any situation. It is for your survival, dear. So stay still for me."

He wasn't sure how much he believed that when the silver blade was pressed against his cheek, making all thoughts apart from the agony disappear in an instant. He whined, then screamed, then the pain stopped and he was left panting and sobbing.

"Breathe," Helle murmured, and he tried, he tried his best. He could listen. He could be good. He could listen through the fear and the pain. "There you go. Good boy. Just breathe."

"It hurts," he whimpered.

"I know. But it will heal, and the pain will fade from your memory." They tapped his forehead. "The only thing you need to remember is the lesson."

I wish I didn't heal. I wish you didn't forget. I wish you could see the marks of what you've done to me, so you'd know I've suffered enough already. I wish you didn't have a blank canvas every single time.

I wish you pitied me enough to be kinder.

"I'll remember," he promised weakly. "I'll listen. Th-thank you for protecting me, Master."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[quickreaver]

hi cris, thanks for doing the fandom bingo -- and now, happy wincest wednesday! :) To keep the fun wincest engagement going: who are some no-longer-in-the-fandom authors that you think newcomers should go back and read?

Hey, Z! This is such a good question! SO MANY. And since the numbers are high, I'm gonna stick to folks I've read that are easily found on AO3. I would be here all week otherwise. (I was a late bloomer and still am a slow reader.) We're so lucky here in SPNland. Back in the day, when YKINMKATO reigned and people knew how to scroll on, the field was verdant...

~I already mentioned paxlux in a previous post, who has made a recent return to the brothers, at least briefly. If you appreciate poetic prose, lots of atmosphere, give them a try.

~In a similar vein as paxlux: lovetincture. And part of what I really adore about both of these authors is that they don't feel the need to go into (porno)graphic detail. Sometimes, the relationship, the feeeeeelings, are enough. But if you do loves you some durty:

~dollylux, homo_pink (they're still floating around the fandom, pretty sure! They just haven't written in a while), riyku, leonidaslion (tho they don't always hit my id, they're good), nutkin and mollyamory. Gorgeously shameless!

~One of my fave authors, with or without the brotherlovin' is candlebeck, holy crow, are they GOOD. Same with kroki_refur. Masterful writers, period. They make it seem so easy but we know, it sure as heckin' is not.

~Road_rythm writes some beautifully complicated stuff! Complicated, in that it's thinky and twisty and unsettling in every way it really should be.

~And lastly, rei_c. Anything they wrote set in New Orleans is *chef's kiss*. And one of my old go-to 'verses is their Five Districts, Five Drugs series. Due for a re-read, actually!

There are more I'm forgetting, I'm sure! So we'll save them for another Wednesday. In the meantime...