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mediumgayitalian · 4 days ago

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Lee probably would have caught it a little sooner -- any of them would. Except:

Apollo kids don't get sick.

Not really.

Not when flu hits hard and fast, as it does every summer; not in '01, Cass tells him, and half the camp got cow fever, somehow. Someone needs to tend to the sick and dying. Their father knows that, and has blessed them. Lee can't really remember being sick ever, except a cold, once, when he was about four.

At first he thinks it's another one of Will's migraines.

These, all the blessings in the world cannot cure. There's nothing viral about inflamed blood vessels in the brain, there's nothing bacterial about a fever from white blood cells fighting off an illness that isn't there. When Will starts shrinking from the light and wincing at every scattered sound, that's when they know -- the four eldest, Cass, Diana, Lee, and Michael -- to guide him carefully back to the cabin, pick him up if he's fighting, and send him to sleep before it gets worse. Pray it doesn't stick around when he wakes up. They're not perfect, and they don't always notice right away. They come on suddenly and fast if he's been crying, or if it rains. Sometimes he gets good at hiding it.

This one they just miss.

Winter months are slower. All of them are a little lethargic, and two thirds of the cabin is tucked at home with their families. There's not much else to do when the sun goes down at four o'freaking clock than drag Will along like the little duckling he is, grinning at the red LEDs of his light-up shoes every time he lands a cartwheel. It's easy to see when the hollering fades, easy to notice when the motormouth slows down. The buzzing fly might fade into background noise, but it's easy to notice when it goes away. When Will starts hurting when it's just the five of them, and thankfully it's a rarer thing, they notice.

In the summer it's chaotic. There are a thousand buzzing flies in every which direction, and noticing just one that's fallen quietly off the cloud of others is an impossible task. Mercury and Michael have cursed each other, again, rapped couplets growing louder and louder with every bar, and Laurel has once again brought her ministicks to the dinner table. Luke, since he is a bastard, has enabled the chaos, and everyone under the age is eleven is zipping up and over tables, shooting overdone hamburgers as pucks through shrieking Aphrodite kids' legs and hollering goal! goal! goal! Chiron has, perhaps understandably, checked out for the evening, long since tired of managing Hermes' lot anarchy. Mr. D. is nowhere to be found. Cass has her head in her hands, and Diana is visibly itching to join in on the fray.

"Just -- go," Lee tells her, pushing his dinner away and sighing as Laurel leads a battle cry. "We're losing dessert privileges for the next fuckin' month, anyway."

"I don't need your permission," says Diana haughtily, but grips the back of Michael's shirt and hauls them both away, using what appears to be the leg of the Ares table as her stick.

"There is nothing good about summer," Cass grouches, but there is a smile twitching through her strong hands.

Lee hums, bumping their shoulders together. Dinner long since forgotten, they watch, observing the setting sun wink and flicker off breaking glasses and battered white plastic.

"I'm not healing jack shit," Lee grumbles. "They can heal the mortal way for their idiocy."

"Oh, good luck with that. Diana, Michael and I tried to strike a few summers back. Did not work. Camp is not a democracy, apparently."

"...I see."

At the edge of the Apollo table, Will picks at his food. He is small, for his age. And he is good at disappearing. And Lee is good at holding onto him, gripping a hand in the back of his hoodie, hoisting him up on his shoulders.

But he is seventeen years old.

And he is not perfect.

This one, he just misses.

They do end up healing. They initially agree to send people back with a bandage and a make better decisions, idiot, but Cass caves at the first flash of puppydog eyes from nine-year-old Cecil Markowitz from Cabin Eleven. Lee follows her example. (Because she does it first, not because he feels bad for Katie Gardner's bitch ass. She is in kahoots and gets no sympathy, regardless of how much she winces artfully at her mangled arm. Lee sees no tears. She's full of it.)

The infirmary is crowded, more than it needs to be; there are broken limbs, everywhere, and more sprained ankles than he can count, and Lee can feel from the air in the room that there are at least nine concussions for poor Phoebe to handle. But the bigger issue, as it always is, is the crowd of campers in trying to visit their bed-bound friends, or trying to avoid chores that have been put off to the end of the day and know they can hide in the chaos.

The noise is crying and whining and shouting and general camp cacophony swells. Lee buries his face in his hands. He can't even hear himself in this mess, fuck, and since his healing ability kind of depends on sound this is an issue. This is why his request for a taser to be liberally employed at the door of the infirmary should be approved, Chiron. It would fix so much of the bullshit that plagues Lee's life.

"Just -- shut up and hide me under your cot," hisses Travis Stoll, to the aforementioned and still healing Katie Gardner. "I forgot to lock the store cash register, okay, I'm so totally fucked --"

Bullshit like that.

"Dad, if you think one-man musicals are an underrated artistic medium," Lee mutters, because he has learned with time that this is a much more effective plea than if you love me, "please provide any kind of assist."

The sinking sun pauses for a moment, pulsing a little brighter through the open windows. Lee manages not to roll his eyes. Immediately thereafter, he catches movement -- well, more movement -- out of the corner of his eye, and turns just in time to watch his brother climb on top of the nurse's station, plant both feet on the counter, and gesture to Laurel, who waits, gleefully, below.

Lee slaps his hands over his ears. Milliseconds later, enchanted kazoo blasts so powerfully and deeply across the space that the window panes reverberate.

"Mothers and fuckers of the jury!" Michael shouts, somehow louder than the kazoo. "If you are not dead or dying, get the hell out! Anyone remaining in this facility after fifteen seconds will be assumed on death's door or made to be so! Curfew is in seven minutes! Hermes ilk, this means you! Begone!"

There is grumbling. Michael glares, and there is Remembering, and a hasty, streamlined exit out of the infirmary, limping, bandaged limbs and all. Only a scattered few remain, who are perhaps not quite on death's door but most certainly not well, and together Lee and his siblings sigh, pick a cot, and move forward.

Seven minutes. They can manage in seven minutes.

"Hi," Lee says, shooting a strained smile to a young tween he does not recognize by name. "How can I help?"

They huff at him. (Teenagers, man.) They lift a severely busted knee. Lee manages not to grimace, because his bedside manner is excellent, and says, instead, "This won't hurt a bit," and shoves the patella back in its spot before the tween can stop him.

The cuss words echo down the common. Lee frowns, impressed. There were some new ones in there. He sees Michael make quick work of jotting them down.

"I though you --" for his own peace and purity, Lee blocks any reception of the name he is called -- "couldn't lie!" shouts the tween, red-faced and panting. Murder flashes in their eyes. Lee takes a healthy step back.

"Ah," he says, as pleasantly as he can manage. "You would be thinking of my brother. Yay high, adorable, sometimes will only answer to Luke Skywalker or Princess Leia."

The tween grunts. They glare at Lee, still, but accept the ice pack he offers, placing it on their swollen joint. Lee waves Mercury over, and with a wave of their hand the swelling recedes almost entirely. Mercury then twirls off, still energetic, somehow -- they must have won their rap battle earlier, excellent, Lee loves to see Michael humbled -- and hovers over a pair of twins who have dislocated their shoulders into each other. Somehow.

"Your Skywalker," mutters the teen, jutting their chin near the door. "He don't look so good."

Lee frowns. Diana should have Will in the cabin already, along with Melody, who is young enough still to have curfew a half hour earlier (Yeah, for a whopping two weeks! C'mon!), tucked into bed. Snoring, already, buried entirely under his blankets.

But there he is, by the door. Leaning on the wall, eyes closed, breathing heavy into the last few rays of sun. Shivering.

"No," murmurs Lee, floating away from his patient. Luckily, the patient is well enough to move, after Mercury's help, and finds their own way back to the cabin just in time to avoid the harpies. Lee hurries towards his baby brother, touching him gently on the shoulders; he does not even startle, which is unusual, nor respond to the touch. "You don't look so good, kiddo."

Will only shivers again. Lee frowns harder, noticing the oversized Fleur de Dance LLC hoodie he's wearing, hanging by his knees -- it is a struggle and a half to get Will in a long-sleeved shirt in January. He shifts his focus and is alarmed to realize it's not just the hoodie, that is odd -- his heart is pounding, and Lee can feel a massive buildup of fluid, in his lungs, and, most of all: he's fevered.

Badly.

"Shit," Lee says, bending down and scooping Will outright. He doesn't even move. Lee walks, and then runs, across the infirmary, siblings startling as he passes them, following him quickly. "Shit."

#okay iw ant to write more but timer is over and ineed to sleep so so bad #more to come later!! hopefully!!#percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #lee fletcher #will solace #michael yew #will solace & cabin 7 #cabin 7 #cabin seven #will solace & cabin seven #will solace angst #my writing #fic #longpost #idk what else to tag cabin 7 is always borderline impossible to tag

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emelinstriker · 5 months ago

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☆ More ESAU Headcanons ☆

Happy New Year! :D

And since my recent art burnout's been a bitch, I decided to at least cook up something by writing down headcanons. Soooo here's some mostly trivial headcanons about the Champions. :)

☆ ~ Headcanons ~ ☆

☆ Wukong

>Did you know he has a collection of snacks hidden on his side of the bedroom? No? Now you do. Macaque already knew that since the start because Wukong isn't subtle about grabbing bags of peach chips from his hiding place. The bags are loud enough that Macaque's intense hearing isn't even required.

>He's also still a hoarder at heart. So don't be surprised if you find out that his closet is filled with items you can tell he doesn't need at all. The only reason the room itself isn't messy is because otherwise Macaque would forcefully shadow-portal his items away to keep things as presentable as possible.

>Not hard to figure out based on his design, but he's not really a fan of shirts. His cape and shoulder guard are fine, but an actual shirt or something else fully covering his torso feels like it's too much. He can get a bit annoyed when dressing up more as a form of disguise, but he also won't openly complain about it.

☆ Macaque

>Definitely holds the record for the highest kill count in the palace. Sure, he has a head start with how long him and Wukong had been servants before the others, but he still has more kills than his brother regardless.

>Him and Ao Lie aren't just besties in regards to them being both concerningly out of their minds, but they also both enjoy reading and gushing about fiction. You could find Macaque often hang around the library even before Ao Lie joined. Though, their tastes in the genres are a bit different. Macaque leans more towards overdramatic romantic books. Or just drama in general. They give him inspiration.

>He accidentally spilled just a tiny bit wine on the carpet once while trying to seduce a Master, and he never forgave himself for that ever since. He was so convinced that single mistake ruined his chances.

☆ Mink

>Despite the way he acts around the other Champions, he actually does care about them... somewhat. He certainly wouldn't be all that opposed to the idea of some of them suddenly disappearing. However, much like a previous point I talked about regarding him being physically unable to have a crush, the same principle applies to true hatred.

>He doesn't hate the others, contrary to popular belief. He just manages to annoy them to the point of some certain Champions wanting to fight and beat him up whenever possible. His blunt way of speaking and casual demeanor, no matter the regular emotion one would have in situations, only adds to why he's not well-liked in the group. That's him pretty much mirroring the Guardian.

>Deliberately leaves tiny pieces of his ink around the palace. The others believe it's just Mink being an asshole and refusing to fully retract his ink. But it's just him doing his job. They have no idea about the lost souls that walked into his small puddles.

☆ Nezha

>Daddy issues. Only really internally though since he can barely remember much of his family. But he does get a bit jealous whenever he sees one of his Masters have a happy relationship with their father. He can't explain why either, but he also would never admit to it. He's in denial.

>Secretly helps out Red Son in subtle ways. Like placing items he was supposed to find for their Master in an easier spot.

>His bed and its surroundings have so much pink and red going on, it looks like he's ready for Valentine's Day all year long.

☆ MK

>You know how his memory is absolutely the worst out of all of them? Oddly enough, he's a fast learner despite that. He may even retain certain parts of what he learned, especially if it involves muscle memory.

>Sleeps with plushies, of which some may be gifts from previous Masters.

>Gets this really odd feeling of familiarity whenever he see the people from that one noodle shop his Master sometimes sends him to. But he also doesn't like sticking around for too long because they've been trying to convince him to stay. That doesn't sit right with him. Their scents also made him suspicious. The green girl smells a lot like Ao Lie, so he doesn't trust her.

☆ Red Son

>Great at cooking and crafting, but horrible at gardening. Nezha can vouch. He once tried teaching Red Son a bit of gardening in case he couldn't tend to the courtyard for a while. It ended up in Nezha's soul nearly leaving his body at the sight of some plants catching on fire.

>If there's something like a broken toilet, he unfortunately is the one being asked to fix it. He's never been given any direct orders about it, but he ended up fixing such matters regardless to get a bit more recognition amongst the servants.

>He owns cute little cookie cutters in the shape of the Champions. One Master formed those for him, and he's enjoyed using those whenever he could.

☆ Azure

>"He asked for no pickles"-energy when out with the other Champions just to relax and hangout in the city.

>Unironically once put a leashed harness on MK after he managed to get lost too many times while the two of them, plus Nezha, were on a mission.

>Gentle giant with a heart of gold... But he also won't hesitate to swiftly crush someone if they were to go against any rules he himself follows. Of course, he would never willingly harm any of the other Champions, even if they sometimes do get on his nerves by breaking rules... We're going to ignore the fact that he has disposed of a few unruly low-ranked servants that spoke badly of his Master and their legacy.

☆ Ao Lie

>The wholesome persona he puts up is more fake than Macaque's glamor. They're both pretty much close to equally unhinged and psychotic, but Macaque is a lot better at hiding it.

>He's surprisingly skilled at crochet. It's actually something he started doing because Azure was trying to get him to open up a bit more, so he showed him how to make some lil crochet animals that Azure had learned from a previous Master.

>Bookworm who has dissected a Celestial Hunter out of curiosity before, as if it were a fun school project.

☆ Jin

>Without his brother around, he is actually extremely calm and laid back. Not that he isn't with Yin around, but it's a lot more prominent when his brother isn't hyping him up with more of his own energy.

>Really likes putting together puzzles and organizing things. Which is why he tends to help Ao Lie organize books that weren't properly put back. He's also really good at playing Jenga with how he also enjoys stacking.

>Gives off a calm dad-vibe similar to Azure, but a lot more nonchalant in the way he reacts to things. Unlike Azure, he's not really a fan of upholding certain rules.

☆ Yin

>Without his brother around, he tends to act more cold and somewhat more easily aggressive. Usually Jin would hold him back and balance him out with his calmer energy.

>He had a run-in with a Karen one time while him and his brother were on a mission in Megapolis, and now he really does not like socializing with the humans in the city. As in, you know those annoying moments where your parent meets a friend at a store at random and they start to small-talk, and you just want to go home? That's how he feels whenever his brother is being all laid back about socializing with the humans they have to interact with.

>Actually more experienced in close-combat than Jin. He used to rub that fact in just to tease him, until he lost in a sparring match to Wukong shortly after having joined the ranks of the Champions... No, the match wasn't required for anything, nor did Wukong even want to do anything at all that day. But Yin kept on boasting so much about his close-combat skills towards Jin that Wukong felt a bit annoyed and asked for a match to let Yin prove himself. Unsurprisingly, Yin lost the match fairly quickly, but it only made him respect the Blue Champion... Oh, and he shut up about his close-combat skills, which Jin was silently thanking the older Champion for.

[ Masterlist ]

#eternal servants au #headcanons #esau x reader #lego monkie kid #lmk au #lmk x reader #i'm so tired i'm goin to bed- gonna post it everywhere else later with maybe more tags but rn i need sleep

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