moiraeparcae

[moiraeparcae]

something something Nico accepts becoming immortal for the sake of the after generations. Why? Because gods don't change and demigods - Percy, Annabeth, Reyna, Hazel, all of them - could only live for so long. Who's gonna shoulder the prophecies when they leave? Who's gonna make sure the promise to Luke Castellan is fulfilled? Who would remember Jason Grace?

So Nico stays. He stays to witness the change that Apollo brings. He keeps the memories alive. He's where the demigods, old and new, return to. The same way everything would sooner or later reunite in death.

[moiraeparcae]

The spitfire words - kill yourself - still echo in the air around that one spot at the dining pavilion and people avoid it like the plague. It's brushed clean of tracked dirt from the soles of shoes, a person shaped hollowness, representative of their fears.

He'd cried a little after he said it. When the camper he'd screamed it at lifted their knife and cut their own throat so deep they could not be saved.

Blood was heavy in the air, thick like iron. Jason inhaled it over and over again and watched Nico freeze with wide eyes as everyone around him cried out and scrambled forward. The little girl he'd been defending stopped crying.

Jason hadn't met her before. She was brand-new to camp, my niece, Nico had said in a voice note when asking Jason to visit. The daughter of blessed death and going to sleep with a quiet sigh and deflating lungs, painless and comforting.

And Nico had come back from a three-day excursion in South America - Brazil or Peru, Jason couldn't remember - to find out that some hardheaded son of Ares had been bullying her. Quietly out of view of other people who might've agreed but would've chastised him. Apparently she didn't fit. He thought she should leave with her uncle and never come back.

Jason knows Ares, Mars, whichever one the god chooses to be at any given moment, likes death. Needs it to make his wars. There's no goal if death isn't there. No sense to it but the slaughter and maybe Ares is more bloodlust than Mars but one in the same, how can violence prevail if everyone is too busy fighting the same war over and over again.

So the kid doesn't match up and now he's dead in the ground. Nico left into the shadows only minutes after. Calanthe went with him.

Jason remembers Nico muttering to him about how, despite Will's careful kind words, he still felt like a pariah, eyes watching him, people wondering why he was still around. Jason didn't know how to tell him his fears were right. People whispered and the air was soft and sweet, carried those whispers right to Jason's ears and drove him mad with protective care.

It doesn't shock him when the whispers become bolder, louder, in Nico's absence.

Nico had said once, This place isn't meant for the Underworld. It's too bright for us. We're cave-dwellers at heart. He'd called things off with Will hours after that and sometimes Jason wondered if that was what he'd meant. Olympus was high on the mountain, bright in the sky, like Will and all the others. Nico was grounded in dirt and darkness.

Jason didn't mind burying himself with him though.

He was pretty sure he could find air in the depths.

The blood was scrubbed clean from the concrete but sometimes its resurfaces, pooling and puddling in the pores. It tastes sharp and bitter in the stale air. It smells like a reminder. Jason mentions it once, offbeat, as he walks Lou Ellen into the cozy cottage hidden clustered in far edges of a forest and Nico just rolls his eyes and mutters something about his brother and threats.

Zagreus despises Olympus almost as much as he loves his father. As much as love his mother and his siblings.

Zagreus would burn it down if he could but he settles for subtle threats and crafting a forest to hide all the dark and dreary, the children that belong to shadows and solitude and exhale gravedirt from their lungs and drive madness through whispering waking nightmares.

Jason never asks how Nico did it. But he dreams of it. It's not the same as charmspeak. He remembers how that had felt, when Piper used to talk to him and his world went fuzzy around the edges, and he was hazed away, not really himself, but unaware that something was wrong until she was finally gone and days faded into months and suddenly the air was sweeter than it had ever been.

Her words had crowded into his head so fierce his memories had been pushed away. The headache that had pounded for days after while he finally recovered who he was, or, rather, who he'd been once before.

The dream turns him from a bystander to a victim, to a bully feeling greater than themselves, and it makes him laugh. Jason has always been bigger than britches, deserved and fought for with teeth and claws and a determination to survive that this dreamlike body doesn't carry. Couldn't even comprehend.

(Won't ever comprehend)

But Nico's words hit him and it warps everything. Oh. He does want to kill himself. He wants nothing more than to drive the knife into his throat and die. So he does.

Over and over again, mechanical and determined.

It's like a twist in his very being - different from Piper's pretty soft words. If she'd told him to, he'd paused and questioned it until she repeated it with more conviction. If she'd told him to kill himself, the world would've gone fuzzy around the edges and he wouldn't want to so much as he'd be convinced to. She's so pretty. Why not do it? Just to make her happy. When he snapped out it - either when the knife made contact with the flesh of his throat, or maybe further past that when Thanatos was collecting his soul - he'd wonder to himself, Why did I do that?

With Nico's words, they're vicious and to the point. It sinks like heavy hot fog into his soul and warps him different. He wants to do it. Not because Nico said to. But because he wants. He wants to kill himself.

So he does. There's no question. And there's no wondering, there's no why.

There never will be.

When he wakes up, Jason tastes blood on his tongue and wishes he cared. But he doesn't. So he doesn't ask about it. Nico isn't afraid to speak. Sometimes Jason doesn't know if it was an accident, too much force, too much anger. Or if it was intentional, rage and reactivity being what they are.

He knows that - knows it like the snap of his jaw around another's throat for calling Dakota a bastard and making his eyes well up thick and heavy. Knows it like the twitch of his fingers, the itch to claw, when the whispers at camp become heated and nervous.

Lou Ellen leaves and Clovis leaves. They all follow Jason like pups to the feast. The Underworld does not breathe at camp anymore. You'd think that would make all their fears sleep easy but it just makes them anxious.

He wanted them where he could see them, Percy had said late one night, when Nico was fast asleep, sandwiched between them. Percy's hands are soft on Nico's hair. He smells like saltwater and it mixes with Nico's graveyard scent easy. Jason could track that scent from the other side of the country.

Who did? Jason asked, and Percy's lips twitched, brows furrowing.

Nico had woken up screaming and sobbing and calling out for his mom and when Jason had aprooached him, he'd scrambled back in fear, screeching bloody murder. Percy had come barreling into the bedroom. The scent of popcorn filled Jason's nose, but the food itself had been scattered in the hallway with Percy's rushed footsteps.

There was no flinching from Percy when he approached and Jason had thought it was Tartarus thing but Nico's fearful gaze, trained and tracked on Jason's soul, made him quickly realize that, no, this was something different.

Your dad, Percy answered carefully. He stroked Nico's hair sweetly and Jason wondered if Nico knew that Percy loves him. He wanted our cousins where he could see them and when Hades refused to send Nico and Bianca away, he tried to kill them.

He kissed Nico's forehead and held his clammy hand tight in his grip. Nico murmured something soft under his breath, faintly Italian, and curled deeper into Percy's protective hold.

That's why he was scared of you earlier.

Nico had once told him he had a soul like his father - electric yellow and loud. It had made Jason squirm to consider. It made him bitter then, with Percy's words and Nico's fear and the fact that even with Nico cuddled next to him, he felt like he was miles away.

It still annoys him to think. He doesn't want to be his father, paranoid and cruel. He wants to be like the Jupiter, the Zeus, the one that represented leadership and strength, law and order, the sky and thundering rains.

Not the coward that kills children because he's scared of being dethroned, and sends monsters after his own son until that child is driven to the Underworld to taste the protection of pomegranate seeds just because that child called out his own stupidity.

Percy doesn't visit camp anymore either. Although his father loves him, and he is hurricane of a demigod to deal with so monsters cower from him more than they chase him. He's loyal to his friends and with Annabeth aging out of camp and Grover venturing further and farther, his bindings to the place that caused him pain have more than unshackled from his skin.

He worries, though, about the people that will come after him, the siblings that are on the way, toddler feet no doubt scampering over tile and hardwood floors right now, and Nico rolls his eyes and mutters, Poseidon was thought to be chthonic too sometimes. And Percy relaxes.

Jason would too.

He wouldn't want his siblings to grow up in a world that looks at Nico and thinks him dangerous instead of beautiful, even with blood on his hands and a fire in his teeth. Maybe that's a curse of being wolf-raised. He sees more love in fangs born hard into flesh and bloodied meat piled on dirty floors than he does in empty words and love letters he can't read.

But Poseidon is different from Zeus, Neptune different from Jupiter. The Underworld is depths below the earth and darkness and caves and monsters, and the ocean understands all of that well.

So Jason is welcome because he is touched by darkness from the ruby stain of bitterness on his tongue, and Hermes is welcome, in fragile spades, the ghostly kids that hid themselves and their powers until they saw Jason walk out with Thanatos's young son asleep on his shoulder, and whispered, "Can I come?" and chased him as their father chases the wind and ghosts.

Jason only ever visits to bring them back here. To hear the whispers from satyrs being sent on quests and outrunning them as wolves outrun their prey, as the wind reaches shores, sweeping up kids with shadows in their veins and gravedirt in their lungs before the enemy can touch down in a tornado of future pain.

There's few of them on the radar - their parents love them as the ground loves a corpse, and keeps them safer than the sky ever could. And the ones off the radar, untouched by howling winds and unscented in grasping air, visit regularly, touch their beloved siblings and cousins and teach them how to hold their heads held high.

The ones who can't go home, who have no home to return to, stay with Nico and Jason remembers bitter seeds chewed up in his mouth, watching his uncle crowded by doting loving employees, who were more family than the people on the mountain miles above and states away.

It is more love than he has known before. Wolf hearts and warm fur meant more to him than wide eyes begging him to speak when he didn't know how words fit in his mouth. When the pedestal they dragged him onto was too cold and too high and he wanted to be back in the grass, rolling in the dirt, and growling at birds.

He learned to make his own heat, and learned not to crave the warmth of another's hold.

It was different now. Warmer. Softer. The cottage is one-story, unassuming, until you walk down and down and shadows pull you into cave-like structures decorated in string lights and soft golds. It's dim and comforting and no one has to sleep alone just because there isn't anyone to call them a sibling. Everybody shares and everybody has their own space and everyone pulls Jason into cuddlepiles, seeking his heat and strong arms to snuggle.

Before he'd seen his muscles for warrior strength, but now it's to lift four or so conked out preteens to bed and rearrange furniture, and that matters more to him than anything. But even still, no one bats an eye when he shoots forward and sinks his teeth into monster flesh and no one complains when he licks blood from his hands.

The inhumanity of his humanity is never questioned here, not among the otherworldly spectators who see beauty in dark things.

Nico pours him a glass of pomegranate juice and chases Jason into their shared bed. It feels partially-empty without Percy on the other side, but Hazel drops into the space with a loud yawn and it's better.

Hazel visits often. Frank doesn't follow, but he calls. Hazel disappears into shadows and emerges in the outdoors to answer the calls. She will not jeopardize their safety in anyway, even though Jason is sure Frank would follow her into the wrong side of any war if she asked.

The kids love Hazel as much as they love Nico and the covet all the time they get with her. She wilts whenever she has to leave and Jason wonders how long it will take before she stops. Before she ditches her house in New Rome and crafts her own space deep below the earth where the shadows whisper and gold lays.

He wonders how long it would take Frank to settle in with the rest of them. Not long, he thinks.

Once you've seen the beauty of the dark, it's hard to return to the harsh ugliness of the light.

[moiraeparcae]

non-exhaustive list of canon powers Nico di Angelo either has shown or is heavily implied to have:

Shadow-travel

Manipulation of shadows/darkness (also possibly use of shadows as a pocket-dimension a la Magicians using the Duat in The Kane Chronicles)

Becoming intangible/shadows

Complete control over skeletons/bones (dead or alive, including summoning, reanimation, and/or changing shape of them) and being able to sense their presence

Summoning, reanimating, commanding, and dispelling the dead/undead (Skeletons, zombies, ghosts, etc & varieties) and being able to sense their presence

Ability to understand/communicate with the dead/undead and potentially other beings of the Underworld

Inherent complete comprehension of Latin

Ability to perceive the usually unperceivable/possibly look upon a deity’s true form without repercussion (at least moreso than the average demigod, though possibly is restricted to chthonic beings) (ex: Tartarus, potentially also interacting with his parents, etc)

Interacting tangibly with ghosts (implied to be a Ghost King thing rather than a Hades/Pluto thing)

Partial or complete immunity to different effects of the Underworld/things within (can consume food/drink of or in the Underworld without repercussions, effects from the Lethe wear off over time instead of being permanent like usual for mortals, etc)

Astral projection/”Walking in dreams”

Dream manipulation and projection (Sending dreams to others, etc.) (presumably includes sharing/projecting dreams with others)

Illusions

Manipulation of emotions/aura that inflicts specific emotions on others (ex.: radiating fear/death onto enemies)

Projection of emotions and memories onto others (can be so forceful it causes physical damage like a shockwave)

Geokinesis (all forms but also specifically generating black marble) (presumably also specialized control over precious gemstones & non-paper currency)

Temperature manipulation (seemingly only lowering temperature)/creating frost)

Control/manipulation of souls, including living beings (ex: ripping out Bryce Lawrence’s soul)

Perceiving/reading/judging of souls (most likely also a Ghost King thing over Hades/Pluto thing, but possibly both)

Converting living into dead/undead, aka instakill (ex: disintegrating monsters to bone with one touch)

Lowering or manipulation of own vitals (breathing, heart rate, etc)

Death Trance/pseudo-hibernation (possibly also general control over states of consciousness at least for self, in combo with control over vitals & dreams)

Sensing death (impending or when it occurs, sometimes receiving dreams/visions of it occurring)

Able to sense other children of Hades/Pluto (potentially also other chthonic beings in general/able to identify based on sense alone)

Improved navigation underground/in the Underworld and ability to traverse restricted or normally unnavigable parts of the Underworld

Enhanced strength/abilities when in the Underworld

Inherently unnaturally quiet (possibly able to silence sound on a designated target)

Hiding/shielding self from being perceived (seemingly related to shadows/silence)

[moiraeparcae]

Again with my Immortal Nico AU. Today i give you another headcanon of mine, which is Analgesia Nico.

It means that Nico has lost his sensation of pain. He cannot feel physical pain. Or at least has a ridiculously high pain tolerance. 

No, it’s not a side effect of immortality. It’s just that I feel like Nico has gone through enough pain and anguish that he’s gotten used to it.

“…He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain.” - Tower of Nero, page 16

and i took it personally. The concept of an immortal Nico unable of feeling physical pain is intriguing enough to me anw. 

- Yes Nico doesn’t feel physical pain. So when a monster manages to pierce through his shoulder or limb, he just takes the chance to steel it in place to stick his sword through it. It’s terrifying.

- Sometimes Nico doesn’t know he’s injured and only finds out when his vision starts to blurr. It’s extremely deadly the way he can be hanging of death’s door yet completely unaware.

- He’s even more ridiculously dangerous and endangered at the same time because having no pain means that Nico could care less about diving head first in hell to accomplish what he wants.

- Nico returns to the underworld unknowing of a bleeding wound on his back and blood literally dripping to the floor from his clothes. The ghosts freak out and Hades senses Nico’s life force fading and Zagreus is screaming for medical care and everything’s a mess.

Zagreus: “I know you like my aesthetic but please ask me for guidance before making an attempt yourself, Nico.”

- Nico would look at a flying arrow aiming for him without batting an eye before side-stepping it.

- He can have an arrow stuck in his shoulder yet still keeps his poker face. No scream, no yelp. 

- After time, he grows calm. Numb. The darkness didn’t help. And Nico wants it like that, anyway: no more pain. His overall sensations quiets down and so his angers, his noisy troubled thoughts. It’s a sort-of peace, so he welcomes it.

[moiraeparcae]

Immortal Nico di Angelo

Because i’m a sucker for powerful and self-love Nico so here i am fantasizing him being the one and only officially granted Ambassador of Hades

- “My father will hear about this!” Okay ofc Nico doesn’t say that but you HAVE TO admit that it’d be fun if he did.

- Hades offered him immortality after the war of Gaea and i’m all about self-love asexual Nico so no, Solangelo doesn’t happen, nor does any romantic affairs. And Nico’s forever 15.

- Demeter doesn’t like it. The Olympus can suck it up, then.

- Zagreus & Makaria: MY BABY BROTHER!!! *incessant and obnoxious hugs*

- Melinoe: I can’t believe this. (typical sister-brother bickering)

- Persephone is fine. She’s fine.

- Family dinner!!!! Zagreus offers him wine, Nico uses his physical age “I’m underage” to decline and his chronological age when he wants to drink.

- He started working for his father as an Ambassador, especially for the demigod community, which means:

He delivers messages directly from Hades (Hermes likes this because it lightens his workload so that he can go to the Underworld less often).

His appearance represents Hades himself. Nico speaks on behalf of his father to express the Underworld’s opinions and attitude upon current events, which also implies that the Camps should better take whatever he says seriously this time.

Giving judgements and punishments in case someone decided to play with darkness in the name of Hades and shame the Underworld.

Yes he works with other Pantheons too. Bestie with Alex Fierro, honestly. Nico goes on international business trips all the time.

(Hades also takes advantage of this to send Nico to those meetings he doesn’t want to attend. Nico complains all the time tho)

It goes both ways, so Nico also keeps an eye on the surface’s situations too. In case some demigod need help with going to the Underworld, Nico’s aid lessens 99% of the difficulty. If you piss him off tho you’ll still make it to the Underworld, just not the way you’d like.

Sometimes he meets the unclaimed/ lost demigods, he’d offer help and take them to the camps/ respectively shelter. After so many similar incidents, he started recruiting wandering ghosts to work along the satyrs to keep an eye for any new demigods in sight.

- Those duties^ requires Nico to travel a lot around the world and consequently helps him know a bunch of gods from different pantheons as well. His social network is insanely expansive.

- ^ It helps him see more part of the world, more people, more believes and colors of life, which resulted in Nico having learnt the way to accept himself, from which he gains confident as well. SELF-LOVE NICO.

- He helps Jason with building the temples when he’s free enough because srsly, who else knows about the minor gods and can reason with them without being turned to an animal? (No Jason did NOT die i dont know what your talking about he’s still living healthy and happy)

- That one time Nico received a fatal blow even to his immortality, Jason was devastated. But then the guy returned fresh as new because guess what, his godly brother is god of rebirth and Zagreus loves his brother dearly. Jason’s concerns regarding Nico’s penchant for jumping head first into dangers only added up.

- Best quest counselor/ guide ever because of his scary information network & knowledge, but again, his actions are limited due to his title.

- Nico might or might not offer to help (read: incessantly talking and convincing and maybe authority abusing) Lupa with safety regulations guaranteed by zombie workers regarding training the young Roman demigods. Reyna supports his idea, Frank is more than happy, Jason is just relived no one has to go through what he did.

- Nico’s powers grow to be more stable and efficient. Less overexertion. Zagreus and Hades teach him how to use his potentials to the fullest. Now, every shadow is his entrance and exit. Every ghost is his ears and eyes. And Underworld creatures are inclined to obey his commands.

- He uses them to keep tabs of his friends as well (the Seven, Reyna, Bob,…) and makes sure to visit Hazel every month.

- Of course, they age and have children on their own. So he is their badass sarcastic gay Uncle Nico, who - along with their punk Aunt Thalia, somehow magically look the same as the years go by.

“Uncle/ Auntie, why don’t you get old like our parents? What’s your secret?”

Thalia: Hating men.

Nico: Childhood traumas.

Everyone else *covers the children’s ears*: Please stop saying that!!

- He found Bianca’s rebirth, who is a girl with all those same chocolate eyes and black silky hair and freckles, living happily with her new family. Hazel later moves to that city and becomes the girl’s neighbor so that Nico has the chance to talk with her as her son/ brother/ whatever.

- Nico has to take up the strict role for Hazel’s children because really, Frank is too soft and Hazel is both too soft and too terrifying when she’s truly furious so there’s that. He still makes sure not to go too hard on them tho because he dislikes childhood traumas as much as the next person.

His typical technique is like “if you do bad things, the zombies will come out of the closet to scare you.” But again, they all know zombies listen to him and Nico would never hurt them.

Nico *with an obviously loving smile failed to be hidden*: How come my nieces and nephews are not scared of me anymore? How can I discipline you if you’re like this?

He sics the zombies on them a few times.

And another time in class when the children are telling ghost stories and Annabeth and Percy’s kid is like “No it’s not true. My uncle Nico met that guy. He’s super nice.” and they just look at him/her/them like (⊙_⊙).

Percy dies laughing after.

- Nico teaches the children his mother’s Italian lullabies and takes them on a trip to Italy as some sort of “congratulations on making it to be an adult”

- Nico has an apartment in every city he merely resides regularly - enough for frequent business trips - all of which is enchanted with Hades’ blessings to ward off monsters. Ofc Hades bought it for him, because Hades spoils his son even though he doesn’t admit it.

- If Nico doesn’t like you but he doesn’t want to deal with you either, he’ll just send you straight to his dad. Hades is less than thrilled so he’ll just *zip* and you’re gone. (“Why are you—Nico did it again?! I’m Lord of the Underworld, not a trash can!”)

- When Jason does die (by old age, bcuz that’s the only reasonable for that boy to die, no i don’t take criticism), instead of Thanatos reaping his soul, Nico holds his hand, leading him all the way to the door to a new life. They promise to meet again.

“Will we meet again?”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me you will tell me when we do.”

“Of course. And Thalia too, i’ll make sure of that.”

“Okay, i guess… goodbye then.”

“It’s See you later, Jason.”

- Nico eventually finds everyone’s rebirth and he tells those in the Elysium, along with their children, about them.

[moiraeparcae]

Incomprehensive list of powers I’d like to give to Nico di Angelo

It’s such a shame that we don’t get to see much of Nico’s Umbrakinesis (weird word btw) through out the series - except for Shadow Travel, ofc - because i absolutely love those scenes in which he manipulated the shadows.

It infatuates me to see him solidify shadows into virtual objects (a shiel, i recall). like, he can literally create a tangible object from the intangible… energy? whatever. that might or might not mean that if Nico pratices more, he can possibly bend the shadows at his will.

And he can generate darkness too??? Like doesn’t that mean he has a source of energy inside him and can also use it, solidify it as he wants?

- I like to think that Nico can call for darkness and shadows whenever he likes and has enough energy. He doesn’t need a natural shadow anymore. He can wave a hand and flickers of darkness just pour out of his palm, his fingertips grazing the air with smears of the thickest, coldest shadows slowly flooding the whole place.

-  overexertion of shadow travel can cause the user’s fading away. WELL I GIVE YOU HOW ABOUT NICO DI ANGELO CAN SWITCH TO INTANGIBLE FORM AND CLIP THROUGH WALLS AS HE LIKES. He can cross the roads and doesn’t give a shit about cars.

- he also plays with it. whenever Nico gets bored. He summons a blob of shadow (like those who summon a small flame in their palms) and plays with it the same way people does with a stress ball. Cerberus loves it.

- since shadows don’t have an identified, permanent shape, Nico can shape it the way he wants, sa long as he can imagine it clearly in his head. It doesn’t have colors tho.

- that also means that Nico has a considerable hold of others’ shadows. He is capable of immobilize a living object by plysically connecting with their shadows, by himself or his sword.  i’d like to imagine Nico intentionally let go of his sword when Percy counters him to use it as a lead to anchor Percy’s shadow at the spot. And when the guy can’t move to dogde, he just knocks him out with a punch/ kick. (it also works well with big sized enemies). 

- he can see through the dark. if he forgets to turn on the light it isn’t his fault. don’t blame him just because the others are incompetent. 

- creatures of darkness speak the dark language (whatever) and Nico has an empathy link to understand it. yes he understands Cerberus and Mrs. O’Leary.  this is the hill i will die on.

that’s for now. will elaborate about the tartarus thing later.

[moiraeparcae]

okay but imagine. Thalia Grace, after Jason's death, in a fit of desperation, comes racing to Nico di Angelo, wanting him to summon his ghost, because she just wants to talk to her brother one last time. Before it's too late. Before he reaches Elysium, since the closest she could get to talking to her brother after he goes to the hero's paradise is through dreams, and that wasn't enough for her. Seeing his fragmented soul through dreams is not nearly good enough. She wants the message to reach him. The real him. Not a loomy remnant. She wants to apologise, as she feels her soul being hollowed out with guilt.

She should've looked for Jason, even after their mother told her that he's dead.

She shouldn't have been so busy with the hunters that she would have to cut their brother-sister conversation short.

She should've realised how much her brother craved her attention.

She should've come to the chb meeting that she'd promised jason she'd come to, she shouldn't have made her brother wait like a lost puppy.

The look in jason's eyes when she told him she'd have to leave was etched on to her face. Permanently scarring her soul.

She should've been a better sister. She failed him. She failed to make him feel wanted. She hoped Jason didn't face his death thinking that she didn't need him. Because Gods of Olympus, that would break her.

And she poured all of these gut wrenching thoughts to Nico, who suprisingly listened. Yes. Nico did resent Thalia for being in the hunters of Artemis, the same group that got his sister killed. But listening to Thalia pour her heart out to him, really hit a little too close to home. The daughter of Zeus seemed to echo a young nico, trying aimlessly to summon his sister's ghost to talk to her. They both had the same hollow red eyes, burning with hot tears streaming down, the same crease in the eyebrows, the same flicker of rage over their siblings's murder. At that moment, Thalia Grace looked as unthreatening as the king of all god's daughter could possibly look like.

But Nico was glad, that Thalia, atleast cared about her little brother to this extent. Up until this point, Nico had these lingering doubts if Bianca had really cared about him like this, she had dropped everything to join the hunters after all. Hearing Thalia talk about jason had healed his inner child. Maybe big sisters do think about their younger brothers, no matter how busy they appear to be... So he complied to her wishes. She deserved closure from her brother's death. It would do Jason some good too.

He poured all of his concentration into summoning the son of Jupiter, as Thalia anxiously chewed on her nails, pacing around the murky woods in anticipation. Until a wispy figure with rimmed glasses and neatly cropped hair, appeared in front of them.

"Hello, sis."

Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace were more or less the same, when it came to wanting to make amends with their deceased sibling.

Except Thalia was the older sister who wanted her younger brother back, And Nico was the younger brother who wanted his older sister back.

[moiraeparcae]

hey guys.

so my grandfather passed earlier this evening, after some time in palliative care. this has put a shit ton of stress on my family. i'm also desperately trying to chug my way through my overloaded final semester of undergrad, plus work, plus trying to figure out next year's living situation and finances. i'm overloaded. i'm stressed.

and, unfortunately, over the past little bit, this account has gone from stress relieving, to neutral, to stress inducing, and i just to not have the space for that right now.

i'm heartbroken about it, to be honest. for two years i have poured my entire heart and soul into this. it has taken up every inch of my free time. i spent all my time thinking about it, i put all my creative energy here. not only did this account make me truly, genuinely happy, but i made a lot of friends and had a lot of fun. it hasn't been that place of joy for me for a while now, but i was keeping up, anyway, because i'm so proud of all i've managed here and i don't want to let go, i don't want to move on.

however, i need a break. a long one.

i have been in and out of the voltron fandom since i was 13 years old. 2022-2023 has been the longest consecutive amount of time i have been fully, both feet, petal to the metal engaged, and i actually think that's the longest i've ever been obsessed with one thing. i usually fluctuate. i have no doubt that one day, probably in the not-too-distant (but not too close either) future, i will come back here. i will pick things up again. they're not going anywhere, after all.

for now, what i've posted is what there is. i have lots of wips, and lots of outlines, and lots of things i've started and let stay unfinished, and i'm going to keep it that way. i heard something about some law coming for fanworks on tumblr, so i might shift anything that's been posted here onto ao3, but as for updates -- it'll be awhile. i hope what i already have holds up.

i've read all your comments and reblogs and asks and messages, even if i haven't responded to them. i'm touched by your concern and endeared by your flattery. i appreciate all the energy you guys have returned here, and i wish all of you the best. have so, so so much fun with this fandom until i come back to it.

love, and hugs, and kisses,

-jackie

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Idk valgrace doodle its not very good

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god gives his worst gastrointestinal issues to his most undeserving victims

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I need more fics about Jason Grace pining his dramatic little heart out STAT! I'll write them myself if I have to, but Jason deserves to stare out the window with his chin in his hand and sigh dramatically while he thinks about Leo. More importantly I deserve it.

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jason's death was inevitable from the moment he went against zeus in boo. there was no other way it could have ended. ouranos was a tyrannical king who was overthrown by his youngest son, kronos. kronos was a tyrannical king who was overthrown by his youngest son zeus. zeus is a tyrannical king. he knows he will be overthrown one day. fate cannot be escaped, not even by gods. not even by fate itself. zeus knows he cannot retain his power forever. that his youngest son might be the one to take the power away from him. and his youngest son questioned his decision. without hesitation. his youngest son had the power to go against gaea herself. of course zeus wanted to dispose off him. jason had performed his part. he saved the world, fulfilled the prophecy. there was no other reason for keeping him alive. of course jason died after doing his part. jason is the proof that you can do everything right in your life but still not get your happy ending. that you can try everything and still fail to survive. i cannot stand people completely ignoring the fact that he died. he did not just die. he died for a cause. his death has meaning. and erasing is death also erases that meaning.

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oh bianca

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daily reminder that jason grace is dead and leo valdez never got to say goodbye

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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

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“elevate necromancy to an art form” he is the most insufferable motherfucker in the world im gonna kill him

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OMG KURIKO!!!!! IN KURIKO WE TRUST 🙇🙇

also your art has improved so much since the first time i saw it, so proud of u pookie ( ^ω^ )

“What was the favor again…?”