𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘 ; 𝐩𝐣𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

❝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬❞ - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐬.

TROPES: angst
UNIVERSE: canon
PAIRING(S): connor stoll x gn!reader
WARNING(S): implied major character death, takes place during the pjo series, mentions of injuries, swearing
REQUEST?: yes — by beloved pjo asker anon

THE MOMENT YOU arrived in camp and Connor spoke to you, he felt something.

Despite you arriving to camp with cuts and scrapes littering your body he still found you pleasing to look at. Never had he thought such things could still make someone so easy on the eyes.

Though Luke was the head of the cabin, Connor found himself tagging along during your tour of camp and making small jokes about a story that happened there.

And that's just what they were, small jokes.

At least, that's how they started.

"Hey Y/N, want some gum?" Connor tilted his head at you with a smile while you were taking a break from volleyball.

Shrugging your shoulders, you put down your water bottle and took the gum. Unwrapping it you see it's empty with the words:

'lol you thought >:)'

Written on the inside.

You look at Connor with a deadpan look as he laughs at your misfortune. You throw the wrapper back at him with a small laugh, "You suck."

Small jokes. That's how you wish they stayed that way.

How many years had it been since you arrived at camp?

How many years have you remained in the Hermes cabin?

How many years had it been that you've remained unclaimed?

How many years have Connor's unrelenting jokes have remained?

Too long.

It's been too long you've stayed at camp, full of constants you loathed.

Connor's so-called-'jokes,' the Hermes Cabin, each day passing by with no glowing symbol above your head showing that the gods cared, you loathed it.

Especially with Connor joking calling you an 'honorary Hermes cabin member.'

It was just a joke you told yourself. Everyday. Every night. You reminded yourself it was just, a joke. But everyday it was just a reminder that you had the unfortunate gift of being a child of a god. What a joke.

Scaring you by grabbing your shoulders every capture the flag game despite being on the same team? Just a joke. Putting sugar inside a bag of chips he offered you? Just a joke. Tugging your hair every few minutes during dinner? Just. A. Joke.

It was hard to actively avoid Connor when you both shared a cabin, but choosing activities he hated was easy.

"Hey, you avoiding me or something? You didn't show up to sword practice," Connor asked while you were sat on the sandy beach, watching the sun set.

"I switched out. Got into archery," you reply dryly, not bothering to look at him.

"Why?"

"Because I don't wanna talk to you anymore and I don't want you talking to me," you snap, sharply glaring at him who visibly leaned back, "You're jokes are annoying and you've never been funny. Go do the only thing your dad's known and good for, errand boy."

You looked at him with a harsh look one last time before walking away from him and into the woods.

That was the last time anyone's ever saw or heard from you - the aftermath of the battle of the labyrinth.

Until now.

Connor eyes were wide, irises trembling at the sight before him and palms sweaty, but not because of the sword he has held for hours. But because of the person standing before him, "Y/N?"

The eyes looking back at him were full of apathy and void of the twinkle that made him fall in love the moment he first set eyes on you.

You adorned bloodied armor along with golden dust coating it along with an iron grip on your sword, "Connor." The way you spat out his name made it seem as if it were profanity, hurting him even more.

"Why?" Connor choked out.

"Why what?" you rolled your eyes as if his question was stupid.

"Did... did you leave camp because of me?" he looked at you with sad eyes, catching a glimpse is sympathy on your face before it being wiped back to neutral as if it were never there.

You scoff, "As if I'd leave that place because of something as petty as you're shit jokes.

"I left because I was sick. Sick of being a faceless kid in a nameless crowd of unclaimed kids. Unloved kids. Kids who their godly parents who thought of them as a joke.

"Always the claimed kids siding with the gods. Must be nice knowing the parent who cursed you with their own burdens," your voice broke as you spoke, having held back your own thoughts for so long.

"It's not to late," Connor desperately told you, an attempt to repent you and his past actions, "It's not to late to side back with the gods. If we win the war I'm sure the gods are sure to acknowledge you-"

"And then what?! Even if I were to be claimed by them my brothers and sisters would be dead. Gone!" you yell back. "And at my hands as well," you rasped out, grip tightening around your sword, "It's to late for me."

Blinking your tears away, you exhale before running at Connor and swinging your sword at him until the world turned black.

WORD COUNT: 0.9K
A/N: this one's really short 😔