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  1. Public Bookmark 65

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    He'd thought older brothers were supposed to be the protective ones.

    Language:
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    10 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 14

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    The case would be hard enough even if Dean weren't sick.

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    10 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Will falls out of the chariot, eight entire times. There’s nothing funnier than watching him lose his shit at a splintered pile of wood that was once a carriage, helmet thrown to the ground in a fit of rage, accent so thick he’s literally incomprehensible. Nico never gets to see him like this. His stomach actually hurts from laughter on several occasions.

    Slowly, though, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s fast, after all, and quick to observe, to respond; the other teams struggle to land hits on him, in practice runs, and sabotage is difficult when your opponent seems to have an almost prophetic gift to see things coming.

    He can’t, however, steel himself to hit back.

    And therein lies the trouble.

    “For fuck’s sake, Will, I’m not asking you to kill anybody,” Clarisse snaps. “You need to get your head in the game!”

    Will’s shoulders curl defensively. “I know! I’m trying! It’s just —” He kicks at their broken wheel, in two clean pieces on the ground. “Do no harm.”

    “Do some harm. Or I’m gonna kick your ass.”
    ---
    OR: Will is forced to chariot race. Things go very wrong, very quickly.

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    08 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 82

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    Will groans.

    Of course his dumb ass slept through the evening. Of course he now has to drag himself awake and walk, in the blistering, nose-numbing frost (it’s sixty degrees, Solace) across camp, dodging feral harpy attacks (Apollo kids have harpy immunity, William), and trudging into his sad, small, lonely bed (gods above you are your father’s son) where he will of course be fully awake by the time he gets there. God really does give his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. (You’re an atheist, William Andrew.)

    “Why me,” he laments, refusing to move from his boyfriend’s lap. Perhaps he will simply wither here, warm, satisfied, and more importantly away from little siblings who will not stop squabbling even when their long-suffering older brother looks longingly and pointedly at a bottle of cyanide.

    Nico snorts. “Because the gods are punishing you for your crimes.”

    “I have committed no crimes! This is unjust! Partisan! I am Hester Prynne and she is me —”

    “Your mother is going to hell for teaching you literacy.”

    “Defamation and libel!”

    “Shut up, Will, gods —”
    ---
    OR: Will is a drama queen. Nico indulges him.

    Language:
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    08 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 36

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    Will scrunches his nose. “…Enchanted cups?”

    The look he levels in Lee’s direction is equivalent, he imagines, to the look the jury gave OJ Simpson on his first foray of the witness stand, but he tilts his cup closer to him, thinks for a minute, and then says, “Coke.”

    All three of them hold their breath. Even Michael, who is recovering from his recent trip to the ground. The cup slowly fills with sparkling amber liquid.

    Will frowns.

    “Hey,” he says, something akin to a pout taking over his face, “I asked for coke.”

    The drink stops fizzing. It, too, seems to regard the young boy in confusion.

    “That would indeed be Coke,” Diana says eventually.

    Will scowls. (It is, probably unfortunately for him, a little bit adorable, because his cheeks are very pudgy and he has quite a lot of freckles and his whole face seems to scrunch with the movement. Like a baby hippo. Lee tries really very hard not to smile but it’s something of a losing battle, he thinks.)

    “It gave me cola!”
    -- -- --
    OR: Will is eight years old and miserable about his stupid new camp. His siblings try to help.

    Series
    Language:
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    08 May 2026