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my ao3

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐ⩺⭒professional @em0bussy annoyer :D

mf is literally

after leo ends up on his stomach for the third time in the row, sweating and hair a mess and barely able to stand—frank walks over to him. but he makes no move to help leo up. he just says; “stand up.” and leo shakes his head and frank repeats himself, “if you shake your head, you can move. stand. up.”

eventually, leo winces but he manages to stand up. and frank says, “why do you keep trying to meet your opponents where they are, huh? like you’re on their level.” he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but he’s pretty sure leo needs harsh right now. so frank puts on his best praetor voice and says, “i don’t know if you noticed but you’re five foot three and one hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet. in a brawl with someone twice your height and size, you are ALWAYS going to lose. you need to accept that fact if you’re going to fight on someone else’s terms.”

he can see leo’s fists bawling up. good. he needs that anger of being weaker. it’s a good driving point. leo turns to him and says, “so what do i do then?” and frank shrugs and says, “change the terms. improvise. adapt. cheat. fight dirty. lean into what makes YOU strong, not the other way around. i thought you didn’t want to be that scared little boy anymore.”

THAT strikes a nerve. frank continues, “you wanna win? fight like you’re from camp half-blood.”

frank, slightly horrified: these are the ground rules?? is there anything off limits?

leo: *now very excited* …damn, man. you got something sick you wanna do to me, huh? oh, i knew you were a fucking sadist! okay, don’t tell me! surprise me!