day 2: alternate universe > Percy Jackson// braelin
you know I considered putting them into a million different universes but ultimately decided combining my first love (pjo) and my forever love (tog) id have the best outcome. so I hope you enjoy some braelin in the Percy Jackson universe (well the Roman version anyway)
@sjmcrackshipweek
[image has alt text]
Her bunk bed groans as she turns to her side, groans again as she turns back, and again as she flips over entirely.
“Would you stop moving!” A tired, annoyed voice whispers from underneath her.
Aelin stills immediately, muzzling the urge to scream into her pillow. No matter how hard she tries she cannot get comfortable.
The events from the night are racing through her mind, competing in olympics to win her gold medal of distress. Her getting claimed by Venus. A rare and honoured outcome. And Bryce. Bryce fucking Quinlan. Being claimed by Vulcan. Ugh she could tear her hair out at the very thought of it.
Aelin how should i do my eyeliner for the claiming? In a way that says ‘im cut-throat queen’ —more like cutthroat bitch— or in a more subtle ‘i’m coming for you legacy?’ sort of way?
Aelin what do you think would look better with this shade of ‘winning our bet?’ the black or the red? Nevermind i’ll wear the gold so you know i’ve beaten you.
Aelin do you think it’s better to go all out for my claiming ceremony or just have something small with a select group of friends?
She didn’t even know why Bryce had asked her the last one. She would never be a part of that “select group” anyway. Probably just to rub that fact in her face.
Ever since Bryce Quinlan had gotten to Camp Jupiter she had been after everything Aelin had built. Right off the bat she had shown enough godly power to be placed into the First Cohort and had immediately taken to the stupid elitist idea that they make every other cohort’s life completely miserable. To make matters worse, Bryce had specifically chosen Aelin as her little pet project of disaster.
Every quest, Bryce volunteered, and then spent the entire time riling her up or ignoring her. Every game was a competition even if they were on the same team. Every meal time was a chance to pester Aelin. It was never ending. Bryce was always in her face. Behind each corner. Under all her quiet moments.
It wasn’t to say she didn't fight back. Where Bryce had claws, Aelin had fangs. They were constantly tearing at each other. But it became exhausting. Like carrying a spear for too long. Always ready to attack, but muscles flexing so hard they shake.
Their little feud is legendary at camp. Spreading across dining halls and between dormitories. They’ve had witnesses to their slaughter on more than one occasion.
And now with their claiming confirmed and celebrated it’s going to be nothing short of a disaster. The Goddess of Love and Her Scorned Husband. It’s disgustingly poetic how this is all turning out to be.
“Aelin,” A whispered shout comes from below, ‘I swear to the gods if you move even one more time i’m going to staple you to your mattress.”
“Sorry Elena,” She mumbles, before sliding off the bed and falling less than gracefully to her feet on the cool wood floors. She hadn't even realized she was tossing and turning again.
“I’m just going to—” She waves her hand, already trailing off as she attempts to gather what she thinks she’ll need for her late night trip to her favourite spot.
“Whatever,” Elena is already turning away to go back to sleep. “Don’t let the ghosts see you. They’re the biggest tattle tales.”
Before she can even mutter a thanks her bunk-mate is asleep, breathing evened out into a quiet lull. Aelin would be jealous if she didn’t know it was as rare as any good night sleep she gets.
With the nightmares, and the constant night-challenges and quests, it’s almost unheard of that any of them get more than one or two proper sleeps in any given week. Just a couple nights previous, Elena and a few of the younger campers were out clearing the Little River Tiber of the oil spills that had washed in from the mortal world and polluting the naiads' home. They only finished the task yesterday afternoon.
With a quick glance at the immediate vicinity, and any potential threats, Aelin takes a deep breath and sprints for the forest.
If she cannot go to the city of New Rome and eat her weight in fresh pastries and sweet bread then she might as well take her hike to the top of Saturn’s Hill and stare at the moon. It is full tonight and provides ample light for her journey.
She catches the blue glow of their camp’s ghosts every now and then but there are enough hiding spots between her dorm and the forest that she makes herself invisible easily.
The dark hood over her golden blonde hair— her most discernible feature from far away— does a fairly good job of keeping her face concealed. She is mostly cloaked in shadows and comforting darkness. Although her favourite time of day is early morning, when the sun is just gilding the world, there is something so peaceful about the dead of the night. Noise is a foriegn concept. It almost feels as if it’s just her, the thrumming ground, and the brilliant stars. She is the center of the universe and the universe itself.
The forest comes into view and before she can stop herself she is sprinting the final distance, wind against her cheeks and sweet air filling her lungs.
Part of being a child of Venus is learning how things fit into their place in the world. People often overlook the idea of beauty and aesthetics, believe something is either pretty or not, in that regard. But that’s not really how it is.
The sky is just the sky until you’ve been staring at the ground so long you’ve forgotten what the colour blue looks like. Food is just food until your friend offers you the last bite of their chocolate cake and then it is a Moment and a Memory. A face is just face until you catch eyes in the sunlight, and cheeks in a blush, and lips in a kiss, and jaw in a caress, and frown in concentration. Beauty does not simply exist; it is created and then found and then appreciated. At least that’s how Aelin has always looked at the world, and how so many of her— well siblings now, she supposes, have seen it too. A million tiny components creating big artworks.
She is almost to the top of the hill when she finally pulls herself back into the world and its present. The air is cooler here, less crowded by warm campfires and free laughter, but no less refreshing. And the trees sway gently, as if dancing their final waltz before retiring from the ball for the evening.
She almost wants to stop and dance with them. Her feet already moving in time to a beat only they and she can hear.
But then a distinct human rustle sounds to her right, and before the trees can sway back her sword is in her hand and the hood of her cloak is pushed off off off.
Her blue eyes gleam as they narrow to the space the sounds came from.
“Come out or i come in.” She says low, controlled.
There’s a heavy familiar sigh and then long, brown legs step out from behind a stilled tree trunk. And there in all her fire-bright glory is Bryce Quinlan.
“What are you doing here?” She growls, tucking the sword away and crossing her arms in annoyance.
“I wanted to know where our little prodigy runs off to in the middle of the night.” She smiles so sweetly and it makes Aelin want to give up sugar.
“It was actually none of your business Quinlan.” She clenches her jaw, counting down from one hundred in her head. The starting number increases or decreases depending on how much she needs to calm herself down. It’s never been below one hundred when it comes to Bryce. “Go away.”
“How are you feeling after the claiming?” As usual Aelin is ignored. “Everyone has been congratulating me. I’m almost sick of the words ‘Wow Bryce you’re—’”
“STOP!” The shout bounces off the wind, crashing through the space between them like demolition. “I don’t want to hear it, Quinlan. I don’t care. Do you hear me?” She glares, knows her eyes are almost gold with how bright they glisten. “I. Do. Not. Care.”
There’s a single suspended second of silence, something disturbingly close to hurt flashing across Bryce’s face, and then a sneer graces her beautiful features.
“What the hell is your problem?”
Aelin splutters, brain buffering in 120p. Her problem? HER problem?
“All i was doing was asking how you were and you just go and lash out at me?” She is carrying on, oblivious to the inner turmoil the Daughter of Venus is going through. ‘You know you always do this?” She’s snapping. “I try to ask how you are? What happened? Where you’re going? And you just bite at me. It’s been like that since day one.”
“Don’t act like you care.” Aelin has found her words and they are poisonous. “Don’t act like you’ve ever actually cared about the answers. You just use them as fuel to annoy and insult me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You have never been kind to me. And every kindness i have tried to show you has been met with ridicule and scorn.”
Bryce scoffs, amber eyes turning all sorts of fire shades in her disbelief, her anger. “You being kind to me?”
“Yes Quinlan.” Her voice is hard. Truth galvanizing it into an intricate iron sculpture. “I have tried to be nice to you. I even tried to just leave you alone when that didn’t work. But you are always hounding me. Pulling at my hair like five years olds in the sandpit.”
“You tried your best not to pay attention to me.” The Daughter of Vulcan stares at her. Harsh voice now shaking. “For so long i tried to be your friend and you just kept ignoring me. Eventually i found people who did actually want to spend time with me.”
“Be my friend?” Aelin feels almost hysterical. “What? You thought adding dish soap to my water and changing my spear heads for sponges was being my friend? Dipping my hair into the fire wall and adding crickets to my morning oats? Claiming my victories on quests and asking people to sign a petition to have piano playing removed from the dining hall when i was the only one that ever played? All of that was you trying to be my friend?”
“I was trying to get your precious attention!” Bryce yells.
It makes her stumble back, hard enough that her back hits the boulder she hadn’t remembered was behind her.
The silence that engulfs them is burning. An inferno of unchecked emotion. Bonfire out of control.
“I was trying to get you to notice me.” Quiet, so quiet the wind can barely carry it. “You were so calm and cool and collected. You knew everything about this world. And i was this little kid with too much blood on her hands and not enough soap in the world to get them clean. I wanted to be like you.” She takes a shuddering breath, and somehow Aelin feels it in her own rattling lungs. “And that changed to wanting to be with you but by then you hated me and i couldn’t stand that fact so i hated you too.”
“You could have just asked.” Five simple words, that could change an entire past, will rewrite an entire future, suspends the fragile present. “Not once did you ask to be my friend.”
“I couldn’t bear the idea of you saying no.”
They both fall to the ground hard, unable to process the weight of these heavy years on their feet.
“We ended up like our parents didn't we?” Bryce whispers softly. “Not giving each other a chance before saying no.”
“Do you think that’s how it always is?” Aelin frowns up at her, tears spilling over her cheeks. “Every demigod just keeps rewriting their parents’ stories?”
“Gods i hope not.” The red-haired girl casts her gaze to the sky, moonlight streaking her wine strands to make scarlett. “I hope we can be better than them.”
“What if we can’t?” Blue eyes have dried, but fear of recreating the past in every future rings through her voice. “Look what happened to us. Without even realising it we became the characters in the story of Aphrodite and Hephaestus”
“We have to try. And keep trying. Especially when we fail.”
The quiet, piercing and loud, but full of resolve weaves between them once more. They are as far apart as they were when they sat down but something about the distance no longer seems so cold and frightening, so….. distant.
“No more fighting?” Aelin looks up tentatively. Amber eyes are already on her.
“No more.” Bryce Quinlan nods and it is full of finality.
A small hopeful smile tugs at their lips. The wind changes direction. The moon shines a little brighter.
Here, the past starts to mend itself. Here, in this cool forest on Saturn Hill, the future rewrites one word at a time. Here, at Camp Jupiter, the Daughter of Venus and the Daughter of Vulcan change their present.
it's no surprise that I use music a lot when I'm writing. especially when im writing violence or smut so allocating songs to different ships was not a difficult task. there would be more if tumblr didn't have an audio clip limit of 10. but I hope y'all enjoy what is essentially a mini playlist
@sjmcrackshipweek
[image has alt text]
Manon x Aelin: genghis khan by miike snow
Fenrys x Hunt: there's no way by lauv and julia michaels
Bryce x Aelin: as you need by alex aiono
Rowan x Lorcan: chicken tendies by clinton kane
Fenrys x Lorcan x Rowan: love back (piano version) by gabrielle aplin
Fenrys x Asterin: breathless by shayne ward
Aedion x Azriel: if I could by brynn cartelli
Rhysand x Dorian: serotonin by santino le saint and cruz cafuné
Rhysand x Rowan: secondhand heart by ben haenow and kelly clarkson
Rowan x Dorian: wild by john legend and gary clark jr.
i was struggling to think of how to at all design this character and my friend was like "picrew" so!! this is alexa's landlord, braelin. he is ummm honestly really terrible and awful but it cycles back around to being good for alexa. he fuckingg doesnt care about her and when she tries to talk to him about anything he ignores her- like at some point he straight up blocks her phone number, for better AND for worst. he forgets she's living in the basement (AHEM totally a flat) and everytime he runs into her he tells her to leave him alone. it's pretty good for her because she won't be able to pay rent and he just tells her to go back to the basement so other people dont see her and make the complex look worse.
he will NOT call anyone to fix your plumbing, he WILL harass you to pay your rent EXACTLY on time, and he has NOT responded to the police any time they try to get in contact. he has a tiktok where he vagues about his tenants and everyone with a braincell hates him and do NOT want to claim him as a part of the community. he is autistic but NOT valid. i also just realised he probably gets comments "aren't you black?? how could you be a landlord" and responds "you're racist if you don't think poc can be landlords" im holding my head in my hands and screaming.
he is a terrible person. everytime he sees alexa he's like "ew.. i forget you're a cat girl" and when he sees nol he does not even care she has moved in, he just finds her annoying and wants her as equally out of his sight as alexa. i hope he goes to jail one day but honestly alexa needs him to be the landlord so she doesnt have to move somewhere more expensive.
So, apparently, due to the way I published my album back in 2007 I had bought it under the conditions that it would be distributed across international digital sources, to include streaming which wasn’t really much of a “thing” back then. As it turns out, I made a little money. I was really mad at first because I was thinking I’d search myself up on Spotify to see what turned up and, holy shit, there I was. I thought someone else was profiting off my music, albeit in the most meager amount possible. Turns out that asshole was me. CD Baby was trying to send paper checks to a guy that moved almost 7 years ago. It’s a happy ending in the end, really. So, for all those interested, I know you can listen to me here on Tumblr one track at a time, but if you’re feeling adventurous go ahead and throw in a Braelin track to your streaming playlist. Unlike someone like Justin Bieber or whatnot, I appreciate the value of 0.02 cents a play...
