#forcing him to step out of the shadow of older demigods

[m4gp13]

Percy, after Ethan's betrayal, found solace in Hephaestus' cabin and especially in Charlie, [He along with Silena were the only ones who called by name]…

And then this same traitor brother had a hand in Charlie's death, and then he himself died, asking for his forgiveness…

After the Battle of Manhattan, Perseus Doris Nakamura was crushed by the losses of his older brothers.

I always see Beckendorf as the person who kind of stepped up (or was put forward) to sort of replace Luke as the big brother of camp when he left. Obviously, he fulfilled this role in a very different way because he and Luke are very different people but younger campers, and even his peers to a large extent, still looked up to him as they did to Luke.

All this to say, Beckendorf had a similar relationship with Percy that Percy had with Luke in tlt, as a mentor figure that helped guide him and comfort him. TBH this is hardly a headcanon and pretty much canon but the point is, Beckendorf would be the natural person for Percy to be drawn to after losing an older brother figure (again) because he's already an older brother figure of sorts to him. I feel like Percy would have had a semi-distant, half-peers and half-mentor/mentee relationship with Beckendorf before Ethan joined the TA but after, the betrayal would have pushed him towards Beckendorf and caused him to project all the things he used to feel for Ethan onto Beckendorf, therefore changing their relationship into a more brotherly one.

And then, of course, the slight dependency Percy developed towards Beckendorf as a brother and mentor would backfire on him horrendously when Bekcendorf goes kaput on the same ship as Ethan 👍 When Ethan survived the explosion Percy probably would have been caught between hope that Beckendorf might have survived, anger at Ethan for surviving what Beckendorf couldn't and maybe some slight shame for both of those other things. And then Ethan dies which just exacerbates those aforementioned feelings with a large dose of guilt along with it, and, of course, the grief.

[swordoffrivolousthings]

The gods in PJO are not godly enough, in my opinion

I will start this rant by saying that this is only one of my problems with the PJO series. I understand why Riordan has humanized them, I know this is a middle school age book series. But I am older and I want to make them freaky and strange and kind of eldritch. With little to no explanation as for my choices.

ZEUS. He is the Olympian king of the gods, god of the sky, weather, law and order, destiny and fate and kingship. He is the law, as any king is. Every word he says is godly law, every little order will be followed. He is the king. So, he is stone-faced, made of marble, with no expression other than thoughtfulness and severeness (even if he sometimes isn't). His eyes are pure lightning, the hurricanes that ravage the world and the gentlest of summer rains. Most days, when he speaks of future events, they tend to happen that way, if not overruled by a higher power. His very presence is the ozone layer being brought down, heavy, tiring mortals and demigods out quickly. He treads lightly, with steps like gentle patters of rain, but his every breath is thunder.

HERA. The goddess of marriage, women, the sky and the stars of heaven, and the Olympian queen of the gods. Marriage, despite her own being something less than aspiring, is sacred. Couples that marry are under her protection, she still blesses their marriages. She sky shifts with her emotions, getting darker and night starting to fall. Her himation worn over her head, the only garment visible, reflecting the sky above. Her eyes, two bright stars, seeing something more than human perception can begin to understand.

POSEIDON. Olympian god of the sea, earthquakes, floods, drought and horses. His body is not, just from the corner of the eye, made of muscle, bones and tendons. Water, swirling and moving in the shape of a man, the odd strand of algae. Then you turn and he is barely human, but not saltwater. The waves seek and tug at his heels whenever he walks along the beach. His eyes, oceanic tectonic plates crashing, sending tsunamis to devastate the world. The air around him is salty, sea air clinging to his skin. Algae appear in his wake, reeking of the sea.

DEMETER. Olympian goddess of agriculture, grain and bread who sustained mankind with the earth's rich bounty. In her wake, every step makes a grain sprout, growing tall and healthy, and nothing can take it down. The seasons are slowly blooming and booming in her presence, the spring more verdant, the summer hotter, autumn plentiful beyond measure and winter always frigid. From behind her ears sprout oats and barley, always young and vibrant green, crowning her in the coming bounty. Her eyes are the colour of wheat, and when the wind blows the shadows in her eyes move with it.

ARES. Olympian god of war, battlelust, courage and civil order. He is war, bloody and cruel, senseless, personified. His very presence makes fights break out, indignities and betrayals happen. He is an oppressive force that bring the bravery out of the people, along with all the hate. If he stays long enough in one place, even Olympus, war breaks out, be it civil or not. This is why he never stays in one place too long. He is luting for blood, but war had wearied him. He will not do the same mistake twice, even in war. His eyes are the open wounds of soldiers, bleeding, infected, dying skin and rotting meat.

ATHENA. Olympian goddess of wisdom and good counsel, war, the defence of towns, heroic endeavour, weaving, pottery and various other crafts. Every tapestry and pot and garment worked by hand that is not up to her godly standard shrivels and turns to ash in her presence, obliterated by her beyond-human perfectioned craft. Towns are instantly protected when she is there, good grace and godly favour. War, like Ares, follows her. It is not kinder, nor is it bearable. Calculated, cold, some would argue that her wars are crueler, sadistic. Eyes like garment fiber and shattered pots, blood covering them.

APOLLO. Olympian god of prophecy and oracles, music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young. The sun, a power passed on, burns under his skin. It is the worst in the summer months, when the sun is more preeminent. His music, lighting every room in shades of enticement, is otherworldly, his voice, be it in song or word, is a mastery of perfection. From his hands, a single touch can be salvation or sickness. His arrows, silver for his twin, always strike true, no matter the target. His presence brings prophecies and fates to light. The power of the sun is in his eyes.

ARTEMIS. Olympian goddess of hunting, the wilderness and wild animals. She was also a goddess of childbirth, and the protectress of the girl child up to the age of marriage. Around her sprout forests, wild and untainted, a world where humans could get lost in and never be found again. Wild animals prowl after her, protectors and friends of her hunters. When the night is darkest, a power inherited, her skin lights up, a moon to shine in the dark of the shadows. Her hunters, her girls, are protected and her wrath is painful and cruel, like her domains, and they are recognisable by their golden arrows.

HEPHAESTUS. Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen, metalworking, stonemasonry and sculpture. Beneath his skin flames are visible, a moving part of him, like tattoos. Every piece of metal he works with, no matter how briefly, turns into beatiful and powerful tools, an art all of their own. His buildings are steady and everlasting, the stone protected by his touch. His eyes, the hammer hitting metal, are coloured in such a way that they resemble statue's eyes.

APHRODITE. Olympian goddess of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation. Born of sea foam and godly blood, the salt clings to her. Curls her hair and makes her glow, the power of the sea just under her perfect skin. Everyone finds something beautiful in the face of beauty. It is enchanting, a spell most can hardly exist. She is everything everyone could ever want, a goddess for everyone's taste. Yet her anger is born of the sea, a cruel and unforgiving sort of death. To make love dislike you is to lose it all in the blink of an eye. To disrespect a goddess means death.

HERMES. Olympian god of herds and flocks, travellers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. He speaks in languages long lost, and his travel notes are written in queer glyphs and writing systems. Sheep like him, without doubt. The souls of humans clash and itch to follow him when he enters a room, beyond willing to be taken to the underworld. The stars illuminate his path, a road he knows by heart but they don't care. They will guide him, no matter what.

DIONYSUS. Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Vines grow from his footsteps, water and seawater and nectar and any other drink turn to wine in his hand. Where he is, the frenzied, happy and drunk follow, a retinue of people that enjoy and enjoy and enjoy. There is nothing not to like at first glance, and only at first glance. When one looks closer, the insanity begins. It is like sparks in his eyes, a nonsensical word past his lips. When you look closer at the people, there is no happiness in the thaws of madness.

HESTIA. The virgin goddess of the hearth and the home. It does not make her kind, because the gods rarely are. It makes her steady, the fire in the home that keeps the chill away from making itself at home. The fire that lights the way back home, sacred in temples and to extinguish it is to forsake her favour. Homes she has blessed are cozy, full of love, of safety. It does not make them fireproof.

HADES. The king of the underworld and god of the dead. He, king over bones and lost memories. His wife, unnamable, his presence like the heavy hand of time on mortal shoulders. Bones and skulls and the wispy whisper of the lost are his retinue. Half decomposed corpses his servants and valets and butlers. His name, scorned, is never said but on the eve of the winter solstice, when death is the surest companion. His eyes, dark but brittle as bone, promise something any other god can't understand.

PERSEPHONE. Goddess queen of the underworld, wife of the god Hades. She was also the goddess of spring growth. Her presence brings with it the smell of the first flowers of spring, little by little making the world greener. But her steps are always silent, always just a little far from the ground. She is a queen, death is her and her husband's domain. Of course she is ghostly, terrifying. Her perfume is of freshly dug earth and autumnal rain, the weeps of widows and widowers, the death of the young and elderly. Her name is unspoken, a curse when invoked. You will not hear her name on Olympus, in mortal mouths. Kore, Despoena, her titles are safe. Her eye is not benevolent, when it's attention is captured.

[daedalusdavinci]

15!

15. the afterlife

hii dea ty for the ask <3 im feeling jasico for this one. if its bad dont tell me im just glad i wrote anything at all after yesterday

In Elysium, Jason's hair looks like spun gold. His eyes are as light as the bluest of skies, his skin with a healthy glow to it that it never had in life. He looks strong, well-fed, and well-rested. It's such a stark contrast from the way Nico remembers him best, wild and streaked with blood, his eyes like a storm. He'd been a terrifying force of nature while alive, scrappy and worn to the point of not caring, but here, he looks divine. Untouchable. Water cascades down perfect muscles that flex effortlessly in his back and drags along scars, soaking into the waistband of his swim trunks. When he glances over his shoulder at Nico, his smile is warm like the sun, that perfect little scar twitching on his upper lip and his eyes sparkling. "Back already," he says, and there's a fond undercurrent to it that washes over Nico, like stepping into the light after a year in shadow.

"Just making sure you have everything you need," Nico says, like this isn't fucking Elysium, like he's waitstaff at a stupid restaurant instead of some kid overstepping his boundaries in the Underworld. He feels stupid even as he says it, knowing it's one of the worst excuses he's come up with yet.

As Jason wades out of the water, Nico is reminded of every dumb slowmo scene he's ever seen of a model jogging out of the waves, with perfect bouncing hair and thick water droplets rolling down toned abs. Jason looks more stunning than all of them. He grins at Nico as he reaches past him to grab his towel, and Nico can almost feel it digging into his heart and settling against his ribs. "It's Elysium, Nico. The only thing I don't have is the one thing you can always bring me."

Updates. Stories. On the surface, their friends grow older and move on, but Jason is frozen, eternally young, eternally beautiful. Elysium is perfect- it's designed to be, and as a demigod, there are always friends waiting for you when you get there. But the one thing it can't replicate is the friends who haven't joined you yet.

Nico fishes around in his jacket pockets, before finally finding the envelope with Hazel's looping script printed across the front. It's fat with pictures, and Jason's gaze softens when he sees it, that pretty blue going misty. "Latest batch," Nico tells him. "It's got Annabeth and Percy's graduation pictures."

"My hands are wet, so you'll have to show me," Jason says, flashing a small smile.

They sit together on the sand, Jason rubbing water out of his hair. Somehow, the sand is never too hot in Elysium, and it never pours into Nico's shoes the way it does in the mortal realm. But Jason's knee is like ice where it knocks into Nico's, cold pouring down Nico's spine when their shoulders press together. Nico doesn't quite manage to suppress a shiver, and Jason flinches back, immediately apologetic. "Sorry. I forget."

"It's okay," Nico lies, pulling out the pictures. "It just caught me off-guard."

It's dissonant. Jason glows like the sun, warmer than he's ever looked before, but every time Nico touches him, he's reminded of the corpse in the shroud that they burned years ago. Jason died at seventeen. It's too young, but it's unusual for any child of the big three to make it as long as the rest of them have.

Nico's not supposed to be here. Jason's gone, and it's wrong to keep lingering, crossing into this place that no mortals are supposed to reach. The chill of ghosts reminds him he can't survive down here, that it's not yet his time to join them.

Still, Nico lingers. He flips through pictures as Jason leans close to see, and he tries to pretend that Jason's not touching them because his hands are wet, and not because he can't. He tells Jason stories about the people in them like Jason's just been away for a while instead of gone, and he tries to imagine that Jason could be warm, if he did touch him.

There are no myths about the children of Hades. Nico wonders often if it's because they, too, found themselves lost between worlds, unable to coexist with the living, but unable to let them go, either.

[percabethfeelsfandom]

Writing Prompt: Nico Visiting Elysium

SPOILERS FOR THE BURNING MAZE AND THE TOWER OF NERO

The walk to Elysium was one that Nico was familiar with. Some days his feet would bring him there subconsciously, hoping to one day find his sister among the souls that resided there. 

That day hadn’t come yet. But the heroes that were there were familiar with his presence, they weren’t bothered by the shadows beneath his feet, the tendrils that clung to his wrists, and winded themselves around his sword handle, ready to shoot out at his command. They didn’t blink an eye at the bags under his eyes, no matter how much sleep he got. When you’re a spirit constantly surrounded by death, you forget what life looks like. The same went for Nico. 

It had been a while since he’d been to the Underworld to see his father and step mother, but the way the rubble crunched beneath his feet was almost comforting. He knew where the dips in the hill were, where to avoid the holes and minor chasms. 

The environment and atmosphere of the Underworld began to shift the closer he got to Elysium. 

Nico’s eyes adjusted to the brightness of Elysium, and the glittering blue lake where The Isles of the Blest resided. He shouldn’t have been able to enter through the gates, but being a child of the Underworld had its perks. The gates opened at Nico’s touch and Nico was greeted with the beautiful view of Elysium. For a home made for the dead, the place exuded a significant amount of life and light, yet it lacked the warmth real life did. It was beautiful in the way jewels were beautiful, sparkly and well-cared for, but not the way flowers were, in their life and their aliveness. 

The trek to the pavilion where he usually met with spirits was hard, it didn’t get easier to see the spirits of heroes Nico had watched or felt die in battles he had also fought in. Every time he saw the familiar gleam of Hunter-silver he had to hold back a flinch. The flowers of Elysium were of gold and silver and Nico had come to the realisation that they were the only plants that didn’t wilt in his presence, it left him feeling an odd sense of pride as he picked one from the ground and placed it in his pocket for later. There was no breeze down here, yet the grass rippled in colours of the rainbow as spirits passed through, wanting to see why the child of Hades was present. Small voices called out to him beyond the gates, wanting to feed on his light, and his life but he pulled up a barrier in his mind, imagining a fortress to protect himself. 

He stood in the middle of the pavilion and held out his hand. He wouldn’t need food to summon who he needed to speak to, he knew that they’d come. 

“Jason Grace.” 

His voice came out stronger than he thought it would. But he still wasn’t mentally prepared enough for the shape of Jason to appear so easily. He knew that Jason had died in his school uniform, but someone had taken the liberty to put him in a purple Camp Jupiter shirt, despite this, the colour was pale, as if all the colour had been bleached out.

Nico caught himself against a pillar as Jason’s form materialised by Nico’s feet. Jason was kneeling as if he was praying, head bowed and arms out trying to hold himself up. 

“Jason?” Nico repeated. 

The silvery outline of Jason seemed to grow brighter, before he rose to his full height. Nico tried not to stare, but it was difficult not to notice the gaping holes in his chest that glowed with silver through the purple shirt. 

“Nico?” 

When he was little, Nico had been taught by his mother and by Bianca that eye contact was important, it was rude if you didn’t meet people’s eyes when you were speaking to them. But over the years he had also learnt that in order to meet people’s eyes constantly, he needed to be prepared for other people to look into his eyes, allow them to see that vulnerability that he knew he showed. 

Nico forced himself not to avert his eyes as Jason looked at him astounded, his wire framed glasses still sat atop his nose but Nico could no longer see his reflection in them. Everything about him looked the same, his voice too. 

“Hi Jason,” Nico breathed, blinking hard. It was getting significantly harder to remain standing as Jason watched him. It had only been a couple of months since- but Nico hadn’t been able to bring himself to come down and search for him. It was a pain that reminded him all too much of the time when he'd just found out he was a demigod and his world had turned upside down. 

“You’re angry with me,” Jason said, a small smile growing on his mouth. Nico let out a choked laugh and shook his head. 

“I’m learning that grudges do me no good, especially against...especially against the dead,” Nico admitted. He waited for Jason’s form to blur into a corporeal version, but he remained in a hazy silvery state, like Nico was in the middle of an Iris message with him and Nico guessed perhaps they were; except instead of being miles apart and trying to communicate, it was the absence of Jason’s life and the existence of Nico’s that enabled them to talk despite Jason’s body being buried at Camp Jupiter. 

“I always thought I wasn’t scared of death…when you’re a demigod of a prophecy you learn to be, and then Leo died, and I knew. I knew that whatever happened I had nothing to be scared of because he’d be here for me…”

“And then he wasn’t,” Nico filled in. Jason nodded, looking beyond the pavilion at the Isles of the Blest. 

“I knew that he wouldn’t be here...yet, I don’t know, maybe it’s selfish to wish that I wasn’t alone-”

“It’s not,” Nico said firmly, standing up straighter to meet Jason’s gaze. With a sharp intake of breath he realised that he had slightly grown since he’d last seen Jason, and now he’d be immortalised at this height. 

Jason seemed to notice at the same time, losing his train of thought as he looked down at Nico. 

“You’ve grown taller,” he said fondly. Jason reached out almost as if he went to pet Nico’s head, but his hand passed through Nico, leaving him with a brain freeze. Jason noticeably winced and muttered an apology. The pain in Nico’s stomach was second to the odd feeling of familiarity. It had been many years since Nico had had an older sibling, and only recently had he become one again, yet Jason, in their small time period of knowing each other had grown closer than Nico would have thought. It was a nice thought, to think he had someone else watching over him, even if it was beyond the life he was currently living. Nico found himself thinking about Bianca again, the way he always did when he felt lost. 

“I saw your plans for the temples,” Nico managed. He gripped the hilt of his sword, using it to ground him as his emotions began to unfurl, curling around him like a dark cloud. 

“Apollo kept his promise?” 

“He was adamant in doing so.”

Jason smiled, and it made him look younger, bringing a light to his face that should’ve been hard to achieve in the Underworld but he made it look easy. 

“Will you try for the Isles?” Nico asked, and though he tried not to, fear laced his words as he watched Jason look at the island in question, a wistful look upon his features. 

“Maybe…” Fear, as hot as lightning struck Nico in the chest, and he thought he was about to say goodbye to another demigod he had looked up to. 

“But not yet. There are heroes here. Heroes that I fought with during the titan war, one’s I didn’t know the name of, same with the giant war. I think it’s time that I learned them.”

"Jason?" 

"Yeah?"

"Are you still scared?" Absentmindedly Nico placed his hand in his pocket where he kept a small token of luck, the familiar groove in the old mythomagic toy bringing him a bittersweet comfort. 

Jason tilted his head to the side for a moment, thinking before he shook his head.

"Not anymore, no."

As he spoke, his light began to flicker, becoming more of a mirage than anything. Nico poured his power into him, praying to his father for more time. He had so much more to say, messages to pass on, and- he just wanted more time. 

“Piper she-”

“Is she happy?” Jason asked, interrupting. Nico thought of Piper with her girlfriend, and the life she was building outside of Camp Half Blood and nodded slowly. 

“And Leo?” He continued. This time Nico thought about Leo’s easy laugh and his constant energy, bouncing off the walls, and his smiles around Calypso. 

“Yeah he’s happy but-”

“And Reyna? Percy and Annabeth? Frank? Hazel? Are they all happy? Right at this moment?” The question almost took Nico by surprise but he wasn’t lying when he said his answer. 

“Yes.” Images of the other demigods, speaking via Iris message, and on visits to each other's camps flashed in Nico’s head. Reyna and her pledge to the Hunters echoed in his head, an almost mirror to Bianca and Thalias. The pictures Annabeth and Percy had sent to Chiron when they had arrived at college, pinned on the board in The Big House. Then of his little sister with her purple cape, matching Franks. 

“They’re happy,” he repeated, more sure of himself when he said it. Jason seemed to relax. 

“And Thalia?” he asked softly. 

“She’ll be okay,” he replied honestly. 

“I never wanted to leave her.”

“She knows.”

“What about you, Nico? Are you happy?” 

The question jarred Nico and he hesitated to answer, thinking hard about it. He thought about the haze he had been in right after Jason’s death. The nightmares that had resurfaced, the voices that called to him from beneath the ground. 

“I want to be.” It was the closest to the truth he could get. Will’s face flashed behind Nico’s closed eyelids, and unconsciously Nico smiled and nodded with more certainty. 

Jason smiled again. 

“Then I’ll be okay.” 

[crushing-on-nico-di-angelo]

Seven Nights in Cabin Thirteen

I’m inspired by another post I saw here that I didn’t wish to hijack lol, and OP deactivated or else I’d link their account here. credits to @the-ghost-king for the idea of a demigod therapy/Will being a past drug addict on this post. Yes this is a bad fic. It’s also my first fic ever. Please criticize if you see anything

Will never thought that he would ever appreciate his first monster attack. He was seven years old, and in hindsight his teacher probably only worked there to prey on young demigods (at least, that’s why he suspects the attack happened so early in his life compared to other demigods). But when Lee Fletcher sat him down 4 years later and told him that he was trans and would now be known as Lee instead of his birth name, Will knew that everything happened for a reason.

After many conversations with Lee about how he knew (gods bless that man’s patience) and with an older Athena camper who’s special interest dealt in psychology, Will realized the reason that he always felt disconnected from his mom and sisters in Austin was because he was like Lee. He was a boy.

Telling people wasn’t easy. Of course his older brother had to know; he was the one who introduced Will to this concept. Telling the rest of camp was as easy as telling Chiron, who told Dionysus, who always threatened to turn anyone into a dolphin if they talked shit about any trans kid. Telling his mom... that had to be the hardest part. How was he supposed to tell them? The only similarities they all had were that they were all musically inclined and that they were all girls.

Apparently, Will forgot that Naomi Solace was a musician. The music industry has more queers than an all girl’s school GSA. Her only questions were “Alright, what’s your name then, kiddo?” and “When do you want to set up an appointment with a therapist?” As for his siblings, well, let’s just say the oldest, Frankie, always knew. And it didn’t take long for seven-year-old Mickey to cut her doll-that-somehow-looked-exactly-like-Will’s hair and change his notes from high to low when she accompanied his singing on violin, as part of voice training.

Four years has passed since then and Will can hardly believe it. He’s stealth back at Austin because it’s just easier that way, but since a quarter of the camp knew him since he was seven, he figured there was no point; it isn’t like anyone treated him as though he wasn’t a man-- er, boy-- at camp anyways. So, life went on. He got his period for the first time during the Battle of Manhattan, that was no fun, but luckily Thalia was cool about it and made sure not to tell anyone. He started binding shortly afterwards, got a couple bruises hear and there. Kayla yelled at him for a week for that one, he remembers fondly. Discovered why it’s better to take off your contacts in the shower... that day isn’t such a fond memory. That was the first and last time he ever made himself bleed. Although, he will say that’s what sparked his interest in medicine and what made him the best doctor Camp Half Blood had seen in decades at the mere age of 15 years old. Life at camp was good, if a bit dull. He got used to the routine and the constant influx of damaged campers, the siblings and friends, and the always-perfect Texas Barbecue and Coke.

That is, until the War Between the Camps happened. Lou Ellen woke Will up before sundown that day and told him their plan. They were to hide in the tall grasses and wait for Camp Jupiter to show their ugly faces. Cecil had the genius idea to paint their faces and arms black so they’d blend into the night better, and Will supposes in the hubub of everything they forgot that his hair nearly (”nearly”) glows, even at night. Until Mr. Nico “I’m so smart, I nearly killed myself shadow travelling” di Angelo pointed it out. Whatever, it made sense at the time. They won the war against Gaea, not without sacrifice, and they finally, finally got past all the wars and destruction and health issues that they were able to just hang out and get to know each other as friends.

And boy, was their friendship amazing. Nico had the best taste in music from Will’s eyes, and that’s saying something because Will is a music snob. Nico could be a little stubborn at times, but that’s alright because so was Will (”Gods damn it, Nico, if you don’t take your medication right this second I will-” “You’ll what? Hm? You’ll force it down my throat? Last I checked that was abuse.”). They fit together so perfectly and became fast friends.

It wasn’t always sunshine and lollipops, though. What is, for a demigod? Will relapsed once and passed out right in front of Nico’s cabin. He was crashing from an exciting high that he hadn’t experienced in so long, and he felt so tired and ashamed of himself. Methamphetamine was a goddamned bitch, so while he was coming out of withdrawals, he made Nico promise not to let him leave the cabin for a week were simmering down. He had to make sure something like this never happened again. They Iris Messaged  Chiron and explained the situation, and he understood. He made sure to contact the older son of Dionysus who had been Will’s therapist in the past and said what had happened and they agreed on a session for soon after Will got mostly over his cravings.

So now they had a week of downtime together. Awesome.

“Solace, do you need anything? Are you okay?” Nico asked towards the end of the first full day that withdrawals were over.

“I’m-- fuck. I’m fine. I swear.” He responded unconvincingly.

“That’s not what you said last night... no offense, but I’m not fully inclined to believe you when you look like shit.”

“It- It... it’s not something I’d like to talk about, if that’s alright. And... don’t tell Clarisse, please.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, don’t worry. But I would like to know if this is going to be a common occ--” Before he could even finish asking, Will was already shaking his head and responding.

“One-time thing only, I promise. Gods, I’m sorry I showed up here at all.”

“Woah, buddy. That’s not what I was saying at all. You’re my best friend, I’m glad you came here.” Will almost couldn’t believe what Nico was saying. Then again, did Nico have very many friends? Nico himself certainly didn’t seem to think so. “In any case, you don’t have to explain what happened, or what led up to this, or anything like that. I don't need to know. What I do need you to do, however, is take a shower. I’m sorry to say so, but you smell like ass.”

“Yeah well, I’m…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. How do you explain to someone that he still wanted his drugs, and he didn’t want to leave the cabin because he knew he would leave to go find some before he would even think about going to his own cabin at this point.

“You don’t have to leave,” Nico said, perhaps sensing his agitation. “I have a shower in the cabin.”

“What the fuck do you mean you have a shower in the cabin?” The shock of this knowledge get him out of his stuck mind. “How did you get plumbing in here? How did Chiron allow this?”

“I helped design my cabin, and while I may not have all the experience in architecture that Annabeth does, I do know a thing or two. I did meet with Isambard Kingdom Brunel, you know.”

“I did not know. You- Who is Isambard Kingdom Brunel?” Will asked

“Oh, some civil engineer who is like a million years old.” Will scoffed at that.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. He was never going to let go of the fact that Nico was technically like 80 years old.

“Oh hush, William.” William… never Will, like most people. William… like he was something special, something that deserved three syllables. “Anyways, like I was saying: take a shower. You look like you were up mowing all of camp with a flashlight.”

Knowing Will’s reaction to drugs, that wasn’t unlikely. He stood up. “Lead the way? I’ve never been around your cabin before.”

Nico’s cabin was unlike any others. Using some sort of Doctor Who-like technology, there was a living room, a kitchen, and one room. Surprisingly, the walls were all light or pastel, a stark contrast from Nico’s general (and unintentional) punk-rock appearance. However, the furniture was all a deep black. Nico led him to his room, a minimalistic one with a bed, a desk, and a lamp. Will wondered where all the personalization was, but made no comment.

“Here’s the shower,” Nico pointed to yet another room in this somehow huge cabin. “If you see something amiss or odd… ignore it.” Will didn’t want to think of the implications of that sentence.

He stepped in the shower and oh my gods, watching the dirt and grime wash off him after his 8 hour high-- which he did not want to think about (and not just because the author doesn’t want to taint his search history), it was too embarrassing-- was a wonderful feeling. He was still tired. He didn’t know why, it didn’t used to be this hard. However, he was pretty sure that he tried to clean the entire outside of the hypnos cabin before going over to the Hades cabin to do the same. This was the first and last time Will would ever thank the gods for Nico’s poor sleeping patterns, he had heard him outside and came to get him before he tired himself out more.

He nearly passed out in the shower again but managed to make it out. He looked around the well-stocked bathroom and realized something that he probably should have bothered to notice before: he didn’t have any clothes with him. Fuck. He wrapped a (black) towel around his chest because he didn’t think his body could take anymore binding and prayed to Dionysus that Nico didn’t notice that his chest wasn’t exactly male.

Luckily, the first thing Nico did say was “Is that a tattoo?”

Will looked down at his sun. “Yeah, it is,” he smiled. He remembered the night he did it, it was kind of hard. He ordered a tattoo gun off amazon and had Frankie do it for him shortly after the Battle of Manhattan. Some people might think it’s in honor of his dad, which is fine. It was really for Lee Fletcher, though. His mom totally freaked, for a really long time, but after his C-PTSD diagnoses she realized that whatever works for him works as long as it isn’t drugs or self harm. He knows she wants a future for him that doesn’t involve music, and that’s why she freaked. She thought it would ruin his chances. But it’s right on his shoulder, only visible in tank tops or no shirt.

"It… its to honor the man who taught me I could be myself." Will said after a small pause.

"That's a very lovely sentiment. If he made that much of an impact on you, he must be a very cool person."

"He was." Will knew that Nico heard the was by the way that Nico nodded solemnly. "I uh… I don't wish to be more of a bother, but do you mind if I go to bed now? That shower really helped."

"Yeah, of course. I can take the couch, you know where my bed is-"

"No, absolutely not." Nico sighed softly, as though he expected this. "I can sleep on the couch, in Austin I actually prefer it to my bed."

"That's-- no offense William, but that's weird."

"It feels less lonely to me," Will protested, then let out a huge yawn.

"Alright cowboy-" Will smiled at Nico's nickname for him "-get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Nighty night, Neeks. Love you." he didn't miss the small smile on Nico's face before he walked away. Will has always been very loose with his 'I love you's like that. He figured it's better to say it too much than not enough.

He had found his old stash the night before, the one that Clovis had helped him forget about. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about last nights events. At the time,he told himself that he shouldn't do anything with it, and put it out of his mind for about a week, but eventually his urge to smoke overcame his self-control. He went on a rampage of cleaning and was absolutely certain he looked like a madman. The worst part is, he didn't even know why he did it. It was as though his rehabilitation hadn't even happened, as though this was something that was as natural as getting a cup of coffee in the morning. He was so mad at himself, so embarrassed.

These thoughts occupied his mind until he fell asleep about an hour after his last words to Nico. He slept with no dreams, for the first time in about a month.  

word count: 2,245

[violetrose-art]

Disney Hercules Headcannons, Theories, and Ideas

This is just a list of the theories, headcannons, and ideas I came up with for Disney's Hercules. I might add more later on, so watch out

-Nyx, the Goddess of Night, is very good friends with Hades and she owns a nightclub down in the Underworld called 'The Void'

-Hades and Eris, the Goddess of Discord and Chaos, used to date, but Hades broke up with her due to Eris being too wild and clingy

-While they were together, Persephone beat, insulted, and abused Hades and forced him to do whatever she wanted him to do until Nyx, Erebus, and Thanatos stood up for Hades and forced Persephone to leave the Underworld and not come back

-Hades had no children with Persephone, mostly because she refused to have children with him

-Persephone cheated on Hades with Prince Adonis, just to get Hades' attention

-Macaria and Melinoe are air nymphs and Zagreus is a demigod

-Helios, the God of the Sun, is the father of Persephone, not Zeus

-Persephone had three demigod children with Adonis. Their names are Plutus, Obelix, and Deianira

-Zagreus is the son of Persephone and an unknown man

-Metis, the Goddess of Good Counsel, is the also the mother Ares, the God of War

-Thanatos, the God of Death, and Hades are very good friends and they even have a personal handshake

-Zeus and Hera had six more children after Hercules. Their names are Amoratta, Parthenia, Wisteria, Averos, Naidon, and Margalo

-Apollo and Athena have a son named Oleus

-Harmonia, the Goddess of Harmony and Peace, is the daughter of Aphrodite and Hephaestus

-Hecate, the Goddess of Witchcraft and Necromancy, has a crush on Thanatos and she tries to flirt with him every chance she gets… but he turns her down every time

-Circe is the daughter of Hecate and an unknown mortal man

-After living a long life together, Megara and Hercules both ascended to Mt. Olympus and became gods

-When he was younger, Hades used to be very close with his mother Rhea, the Titaness of Motherhood… until the Titanomachy, that was when they drifted apart

-Adonis used to be Megara's first boyfriend, until he ran off with Persephone, who was disguised as a human girl

-After the weaving contest between Athena and Arachne, Hades was the one who cursed Arachne, not Athena. He was a hidden spectator and when he saw the girl’s superior tapestry, he was greatly offended by it. So he cursed the human weaver to weave forever as a hideous spider monster

-Hades used to own a magical artifact called the Ember of Blue, but it was stolen from him by his father, Cronus, the Titan God of Time, and it was hidden away during the War with the Titans

-As a boy whenever Hades felt angry, sad, or scared, Rhea would take him to a secret temple they only know about and they would dance together until Hades was happy again

-When Hades was little, he had a huge argument with Cronus and he was so angry and upset that he ran away and hid in a cave… only to be chased out by the most horrifying creature he had ever seen: a huge black blob-like creature with giant rusty claws, a gaping mouth filled with rows of razor sharp teeth, and one giant, bulging red eye

-Persephone is a spoiled, selfish, and jealous goddess, always putting on a kind and innocent façade to get others (mortal or divine) to do what she wants

-Medusa was born a gorgon, and she is the youngest out of her and her sisters, Euryale and Stheno

-While she was growing up, Persephone was spoiled rotten by her father, Helios

-Apate, the Goddess of Deception and Lying, and Peitho, the Goddess of Persuasion, are good friends with Persephone and they like to gossip and spread false rumors about the other Gods and Goddesses

-Hades inherited his fiery temper from his mother, Rhea

-Minthe is able to turn herself into a mint plant at will

-Cerberus had started out as a regular mortal puppy until Hecate decided to place a curse on the poor thing and turn him into a three headed beast, and a younger Hades felt pity for the cursed dog so he took him in and trained him to be his guard dog

-Macaria, Zagreus, and Melinoe may not be gods, but they work for Hades in the Underworld

-Instead of a goddess, Ker is a sly spirit of violent death that works in the Underworld

-Eons ago, Hecate created an herb that is extremely toxic to mortal beings, but it has an opiate-like effect on the Gods

-Amphitrite can transform her legs into a fish tail whenever she pleases

-Hades was the one who removed Arke's wings and imprisoned her in Tartarus, not Zeus

-From time to time, Hermes likes to flirt with Iris, the Goddess of the Rainbow

-Elpis, the Spirit of Hope, is good friends with Zeus and Hera's youngest daughter, Margalo

-Whenever Hades falls asleep after a huge meal, he tends to sleepwalk and he gets a really bad stomachache

-Leuke and Minthe each had a massive crush on Hades and they competed to win his affection… but they both failed miserably

-Orphne works for Hades in the Underworld, but she usually keeps to herself and she doesn't really interact with him very much

-Lamia used to be a well-respected human queen, but Hera transformed the queen into a serpent-like creature when she attempted and failed to seduce Zeus. Hades even tried to recruit Lamia for his uprising, but she turned him down flat

-During the Titanomachy, Hades stole Cronus' magical sundial and Cronus tried to get his youngest son to join him and the other Titans, but Hades refused. He and his older brothers beat their father and locked him away in the deepest part of Tartarus and Hades hid the Sundial in the Underworld where Cronus would never find it

-Hades knows Erebus, the God of Darkness and Shadows, but they rarely hang out as good friends. They're more like casual acquaintances and they only exchange an occasional “hello” sometimes

-Chloris, the Goddess of Flowers, is a total hippie and she likes to throw parties with Bacchus, the God of Wine and Revelry

-Narcissus is the God of Vanity and Pride

-Fortuna, the Goddess of Luck and Fortune, is something of a gambler. She enjoys giving mortals luck, either good or bad, and seeing what happens… and the Fates don't like her for that very reason

-Macaria, Zagreus, and Melinoe usually go around and tell people that they are the children of Hades and Persephone… but they’re NOT. Hades always dispels these rumors very quickly and the three of them are always brutally punished for it

-After Hercules and Megara were married, they had five children together. Their names are Arsenius, Phoebe, Elena, Matthias, and Deicoon

-Tempest, an Amazon Warrior, had a son named Achilles. He never knew his father, but doesn't care since he's a mama's boy. Achilles more drawn to doing theater, dramas, dance, and music over fighting in wars despite being named after a great warrior like his namesake

-Adonis and Helen of Troy were married after graduation and had two daughters named Aurea and Dalia

-Cassandra ended up falling in love with Icarus, they got married, and had two sons named Jenos and Dion

-After graduation, Icarus became a well-known inventor and Cassandra became a wise and famous oracle

-Helen of Troy and Adonis rule a kingdom of their own

-Hebe, the Goddess of Youth, has a pet eagle named Omega

-During the time of Hades’ banishment in the River Styx, Thanatos and Nyx were tasked to rule the Underworld together in Hades’ absence, but they both missed him terribly

-Geras, the God of Old Age, used to flirt with Hebe until Hera stepped in and told him to back off and leave her daughter alone

-In the Underworld, Geras likes to tick Hades off by doing things like leaving his dentures on the throne and pretending to be hard of hearing, which drives Hades up a wall

-Hephaestus is very close with his daughter, Harmonia, but he’s also a little overprotective of her

-The Sirens used to be ordinary naiads and playmates of Persephone, but Demeter cursed them to be monsters when they failed to rescue Persephone when she was abducted to the Underworld

-Nyx has an unusual relationship with Hemera, the Goddess of the Day. They have their differences and they can sometimes butt heads on certain subjects, but they usually get along rather well

-Eos, the Goddess of the Dawn, is a total glamour girl. She enjoys fashion and loves to accessorize, especially with bracelets

-Aether, the God of Light, is a bit of a rock star. He loves to sing and rock out and he has a very sweet relationship with Hemera

-Aura, the Goddess of the Breeze, is something of a hippie and enjoys meditating

-Gelos, the God of Laughter, is the official jester of Mt. Olympus

-Hades rarely interacts with Moros, the God of Doom. Hades considers him the type of guy you wouldn’t want to grab an Ambrosia with

-Amoratta is the Goddess of Family

-Parthenia is the Goddess of Honor

-Wisteria is the Goddess of Cleverness

-Averos is the God of Courage

-Naidon is the God of Loyalty

-Margalo is the Goddess of Hope

-As a child, Hades was always a troublemaking rascal. He had a dark and strange sense of humor growing up and he used to spend his time playing cruel and unusual practical jokes and tricks on the other Gods and Goddesses, especially on his father and older brothers. Oddly enough, Rhea never found her son’s pranks funny… and that’s why Hades usually received timeouts most of the time

-Hedone, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche and the Goddess of Pleasure, is a super sweet and happy-go-lucky goddess and she’s very good friends with Hebe and Margalo

-Eileithyia, the Goddess of Childbirth, is the younger twin sister of Hebe

-Hyperion, the Titan God of the Heavenly Light, is the father of the Muses

-Mnemosyne, the Titaness of Memory, adores her daughters the Muses and she taught them everything they know

-Tyche, the Goddess of Chance, was born blind, but she doesn’t mind it

-Mania, the Goddess of Insanity, is not only a mentally unstable goddess who easily goes berserk at the drop of a hat. She’s also incredibly paranoid and often drives Hades nuts with trivial things that bother her in the slightest

-Nephele, the Goddess of Hospitality, owns a hotel on Mt. Olympus called ‘The Imperial Heights Plaza’

-Elpis is a happy and energetic spirit who always want to help others

-The Charites, the Goddesses of  Charm, Beauty, Nature, Human Creativity, and Goodwill, adore Aphrodite and they all look up to her

-Metis and Zeus used to be married until Metis called things off when she noticed the way Zeus was looking at Hera. So now she can’t stand Hera and whenever she visits, Metis does everything she can to ruin Hera’s day

-Aletheia, the Goddess of Truth, is usually calm and collected, but she’s also a total truth nut and she hates it when people lie. She and Hades don’t get along very well for that very reason

-Ker likes to drink smoothies or slushies made with the blood of her victims, which grosses Hades out so much that he usually wants to throw up

-Before Lamia transformed into the monster she is today, she and Hera had a brutal cat fight over Zeus

-Hades was very annoyed by Leuke and Minthe’s efforts to win his affection. He even threatened to smite Minthe if she didn’t leave him alone

This is all I've got so far, but feel free to tell me what you think and tell me which one is your favorite

[sxmonsays]

[ CHWE VERNON, HE/HIM/HIS, CISMALE ]  —  [ SIMON HONG ]  is a child of  [ HADES ]  with the power of  [ SHADOW TRAVEL ] .  they were born in  [ 1998 ]  and have been in nemean lion since  [ 2010 ] .  with the change, they  [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ]  the  [ AMBASSADOR ]  role which makes sense since they’re usually  [ ACTING AND MAINTAINING A SOCIAL MEDIA PRESENCE ]

tasks && connections page && about && pinterest 

name: simon hong

age: 22

pronouns: he/him/his

birthday: october 31st

track/job: ambassador & actor

sexuality: bisexual

bio

the son of hades and a young korean woman who met the god randomly. she was a grad student when the god of the underworld met her inside of an old coffee shop. a conversation was sparked between them, a game of wits, lots of poking and probing at each other’s brains. if only his mother was aware that she was speaking with a god who knew more than her. a game of wit that lasted for a mere month before it turned into something more sexual. no love was involved, it was all just fun until the two learned that she was pregnant. truths were revealed, concern filled her eyes, hades apologized just before disappearing forever. nine months later, simon hong was born.

a child filled with nothing but goofy smiles and mischief. a plotting mind filled with pranks and lies ready if someone was to catch him. able to fool the masses except for his mother who would drag him by the ear in disappointment. a witty child who always wanted to play games, a trait that his mother remembered of his father. a man who simon learned about when he was ten, an appropriate age to tell him the truth and where he wouldn’t go around telling everyone about it. with her own eyes that were filled with nothing but honesty and worry, the young boy believed her with no hesitation. lies between family was not allowed in their household, a rule that was only for the two of them before a third individual entered their lives.

another woman, with beautiful pencil straight hair and light brown skin that wooed both him and his mother. the two older woman talked, went on dates, started going out before marrying each other just a week before simon’s birthday. a household with two moms, two women who loved him with their entire being and who he loved in return. of course, no secrets were kept between family as it was shared with his step-mother of his parenting. the woman didn’t believe them, thinking that they were toying with her before simon showed her.

it was when he was ten, few days before his mother revealed the truth, that he realized his ability. running away from a group of bullies and stepping into an ally with a dead end, he thought that it was over. he hid himself in a dark corner, hoping that they wouldn’t see him. to get away and to somewhere safe. he closed his eyes, as footsteps neared him, hoping that the boys wouldn’t find him. until it went silent, the sounds of cars was no more, just the sounds of his mother on the phone. he was back in his dark room, very much afraid and confused. he told his mother about the incident days later.

they lived happily together until his twelfth birthday. a monster appeared, planning on hurting simon when he was home alone. it was only because of a pair of demigods from NL that rescued him, taking him off to find his moms. to say goodbye of course as it wouldn’t be safe for him to stay with the pair. such a sad day for the hong family as simon was taken to NL, a safe haven that would train him. he learned how to fight against monsters, to have a better handle of his power, and more about his godly father.

NL talked about hades in a different way than what his mother used to say. the god of the underworld, one of the big threes, a literal king in his realm was supposed to be the same man who wooed his mother by talking about the human brain and other psychology shit that i can’t think of to fit the aesthetic of this bio uwu. honestly, it never changed how he thought abouthis dad, hades sounds like a cool dude which makes sense. a cool mom and a cool day, of course they would have the coolest son.

after graduating from NL, simon realized that being a hero wasn’t his thing. he wasn’t going to put himself out there to save everyone unless he needed to. no, he saw the arts as his way of being, specifically acting. it was with the tattoo that gave him a chance to act and not have monsters try to murder him. of course, it was all local theatre stuff and small classes, just to keep himself on the down low. but when NL revealed the whole demigod thing and forced them to come back? simon thought it was over for his acting career.

until he chose the ambassador track and baby realized that it wasn’t that bad after all. yeah, there’s the classes he gotta take (yuck) but being seen on TV? the interviews, people seeing his face, being famous? oh yeah, homie is ready and not at all complaining.

shadow travel

when he was younger, he couldn’t control this power aka he couldn’t control where he would end up. it took him some time at NL to get a hang of it. as long as a place that he has been to has some sort of dark space in it, he’ll be able to transport himself there. the further the distances, the longer it takes for him to travel. has recently learned how to do little portals in the same area where he can stick his arm or foot out to trip or hit someone. ONLY can be done in the same area.

because his power isn’t as physical as others, he focuses more on his quick wit and any small weapon that can be used for a sneak attack. he’s a boy that focuses more on getting out alive than going for a kill. he can leave that to the real heroes. HOWEVER, if he has to then he’ll put forth more effort into helping out.

wanted connections

best friend: give me someone who just knows simon and even as an ambassador, the main person who he talks to. obviously his go to person whenever he needs someone to rant to or to unload his problems on. ofc, this person can do the same to him uwu

TRIO TRIO TRIO: i’m a slut for trios, give me three best friends who are always there for each other. pls i want a sutton/kat/jane type of friendship uwu

ambassador buddies: for those amazing ambassadors out there, give me people who he hangs out with during their communication classes or stars in shows together

his debby downer uwu: someone who gets on him for constantly playing tricks, trying to con people, or being on his phone a lot. please just give me someone who nags him a lot thx

someone who just doesn’t like him: pls i love characters who have beef with each other, it’s my coping mechanism AGIAJGAI,

uwu 1, uwu 2, uwu 3, uwu 4, uwu 5 , uwu 6, uwu 7, uwu 8, uwu 9

[kingburu]

[FIC] Birb Funeral

Someone asked me a long time ago what would happen if in the Dearly Departed universe (where Jason is a Son of Hades and Nico is a Son of Jupiter, and everyone is conveniently where I wanted to place them) what would happen if Bianca ended up in Camp Jupiter and Nico ended up in Camp Halfblood. I wrote this a while back for funsies and probably won’t expand, but take an au of an au!

tl;dr: Godswap AU where Jason is a Son of Hades, Nico is a Son of Zeus, and they grew up as childhood friends!

A storm hits first. In twelve-year-old Jason’s ten years at Camp Halfblood, he’s never seen anything as abrasive and harsh as the dark clouds that consumes all winter sunlight, dimming the heavens as though he’s staring at his father’s domain itself. Thunder and lightning boom like a commandeering force, and the rain rattles against the magical barrier around Camp Halfblood, like pelting against hollow tin, but falls on campgrounds like a soft shower.

It rains for three days straight, weakening Hestia’s hearth, cancelling Capture the Flag, and irritating all of the Apollo Cabin, who grow antsy without the sun. Jason is nonplussed by the storm, comforted by the additional shadows that linger—but he’s never quite liked the silence it forced in Cabin Eleven. The silence that used to be comforting, but now hurts as he has to look at the empty bed—the one that reminds him his own chest feels empty, too.

 On the third day, the eagles appear.

 Jason’s already awake, inspecting the other demigods without cabins of their own as he hears the righteous call of three bald eagles flying through the forest. Other campers wake to their squawk, if not the thunderous storm as it seems to boom louder and demand their attention.

 Then, a little boy appears through the forest, sopping wet and looking meager and small as he wobbles through the trees, with a nest of dark hair and bright blue eyes that reminds Jason of the days before the storm. He’s dressed in a ratty pair of jeans, caked in monster blood and—other blood, that immediately worries Jason—and a bright shirt with a lotus symbol on it. The eagles cry out again, encircling the little boy, and flank to either side of him like royal guards.

 Jason jumps as those blue eyes scan their small crowd—widening as they make contact with Chiron—but then turns to him.

 One of the eagles nudges the little boy, who stumbles forward.

 “This,” the little boy says curiously, “is Camp Halfbird, right?”

Halfbird, Jason thinks, puzzled, and he swears he sees both eagles puff their chests out with pride. He doesn’t get to contemplate long—of all the people that are surrounding this little boy, those blue eyes are fixated on him, waiting for an answer. “It’s actually Camp Halfblood—but, yeah, welcome.”

 “Oh,” the little boy says, and his shoulders heave. “Finally.”

 And he collapses forward. There’s a cry in surprise—and out of reflex, Jason steps forward and catches him. His eyes trail over to the may stains on this boy’s shirt—the monster blood, the human blood—and he hears Lee Fletcher crying out for someone to get ambrosia, nectar, and all the works.

 “Wait,” Jason hears himself saying, and the older son of Apollo stares at him in disbelief.

 “Why would we wait, Grace?” Lee demands.

 Jason props the boy up on his arm, the nest of dark hair bobbing as they move. “Because he’s snoring.”

 *

 Upon carrying the little boy to the infirmary, they all discover their newest camper has a vice grip and refuses to let go of Jason. Beckendorf, a much older camper, tries once while Jason takes this boy who can’t be older than nine or ten, and Jason’s head almost comes off with it. They stop trying when they hear a little sob. Jason thinks he hears a name—Bianca?—and confines himself to carry the boy to one of the cots.

 Jason has to rock on his feet and stand to the tips of his toes—and practically falls over as he sets the boy down, arms still bound around him, but eventually manages to wriggle out of the grip. He stares at the boy, puzzled, as this new demigod just rolls into a ball, expression unseen.

 The eagles caw outside—and from the window, Jason sees them soar past the window, evidently deciding to remain close.

 “Jace,” Lee says, which startles him, “why don’t you get him some new clothes?”

 Lee’s already washed his hands, rubber gloves on, and is picking up an arm to inspect this boy. He wrinkles his nose as his hand stains with mud.

 “Oh—okay,” Jason says—and he stays just long enough for Lee’s apprentice and little brother, Will, pull a twig out of dark hair.

 Jason sprints to the Big House. On his way back to the infirmary, he watches as both eagles spread their wings and shriek, glowering at him. Jason cringes, staring at them with hesitation.

 The door opens, and Will pokes his head out curiously. He stares up at the rooftop and mimics Jason’s expression. “You think they’re going to stay long?”

 “Hard to say,” Jason mumbles uncomfortably. He takes a thoughtful step towards the infirmary and the eagles make another sound of displeasure. A loud moan comes from the infirmary—childish and feeble, and the eagles suddenly cock their heads to that instead. Jason takes the distraction to climb the porch steps and sighs with relief. “Guess it depends on how long this kid wants to stay.”

 Will pats his shoulder sympathetically. “We’ll find an animal that likes you eventually.”

 *

 New campers, of course, fall under the jurisdiction of Cabin Eleven, and Connor and Travis insist that this new kid already imprinted on Jason, despite not being the head counselor. Jason knows that this kid is recovering from whatever journey brought him to Long Island and the last thing he needs is to be at the mercy of the Stoll Brothers’ pranks, so he halfheartedly agrees.

 The storm subsides pretty quickly after the kid arrives, and business seems to resume as usual. People are already placing bets on what cabin this kid belongs to—if he belongs to any cabin, and Jason tries very hard not to hope that this kid belongs in the cabin that the eagles and the obnoxious storm suggest.

 He spends most of the time in the infirmary, passing on his sword-training classes to Clarisse—and the boy wakes up just long enough to be spoonfed ambrosia and change into a clean shirt and pants. Every day, they find at least one twig in his hair while they’re not looking. He doesn’t speak very much at first—eventually Will and Lee decide to just let Jason handle this kid on his own to tend to other campers who are at the mercy of Clarisse’s sword training.

 On the third day of this kid’s arrival, Jason walks up the porch of the med bay and the eagles squawk angrily, per usual. Jason opens the door and notices the kid perk at his arrival, in contrast to the screaming eagles.

 “You feeling any better?” Jason asks.

 The blue eyes stare at him carefully, then nod. He squints thoughtfully at Jason, then speaks for the first time since arriving during the storm the other day. “They keep screaming death when you walk by.”

 Jason blinks. “They?”

 The boy gestures to the roof. “Lark and Sparrow.”

 Blond eyebrows furrow together. “Who?”

 “Lark and Sparrow,” the boy repeats.

 It takes a moment, but Jason’s eyebrows raise, puzzled. “You mean the eagles?”

 “Yeah.” The boy nods, then pauses. “They had an older sister—Cloud, but—well, she…” The boy’s eyes moisten and his gaze falls to his hands sadly. “She didn’t make it.”

 Oh. Jason doesn’t quite consider it a superpower, but he can pick up on the tone of a mourning soul, even if it’s for an eagle. Lark and Sparrow, the eagles (Jason doesn’t think he’ll ever get his mind wrapped around that) clearly love this little boy very much. Unfortunately, no one at camp speaks bird, and they’ve gone almost a week now not knowing this boy’s story—even if he wants to tell it.

 Jason retrieves a stool, setting aside the ambrosia sundae. “Do you…want to tell me about Cloud?”

 The boy raises his head curiously, evidently surprised to be encouraged, and then nods. “Cloud was their leader. She’s the one that found me first in—in the accident. And then she promised me that the four of them would get to camp. She—” His voice cracks. “—she couldn’t keep that promise.”

 Jason flashes a look of concern. After a few meals of ambrosia and clean clothes, the boy looks better, but feeling better is another story entirely.

 “Lark’s a good listener though, I think she makes Sparrow feel better,” the boy continues.

 The edge of Jason’s lip curls.

 “What?” the boy asks, and he blinks.

 “Nothing—I’m glad they got you here safe. I’m sure Cloud is proud,” Jason reassures. He reaches for the ambrosia sundae and at this point, the boy knows it’s for him. “I’ve never met birds that were named after other birds.”

 The boy shrugs nonchalantly. “Names are names. Did you know that Hades named his dog Spot?”

 Jason makes a face, watching as this boy pluck a cherry off the sundae and plop it in his mouth. Of all the deities the boy could have chosen (before they checked to see if he actually understands what’s going on—the death of Cloud the Eagle seems to suggest he does.) “I’ve—actually never thought about it that way.”

 “It just sounds cooler because it’s Greek,” the boy says. “Like your name. Otherwise, people would be walking around calling you Healer.”

 “I’m. Sorry, what?”

 “Your name,” the boy repeats, and it’s impossible not to stare at the bits of whipped cream at the corner of his lip. “Jason.”

 “You know my name,” Jason says slowly, on eyebrow arched in the air. This boy has been silent for the last two days, taking in his environment with wide, curious eyes. Jason had seen the boy’s mouth drop when Grover had come to check on him.

 The boy’s cheeks flush, and he quickly nods. “I heard the other two say it.”

 The other two, the boy said. Not Lee and Will. Jason blinks once again. “You know my name and you know the meaning behind my name.”

 “It was in the Argonaut Expansion pack,” the boy continues. “The trivia in the wrapper.”

 Much like Lark and Sparrow, Jason tries to connect the dots in his head. “You mean Mythomagic?”

 The sundae falls from the boy’s hands, and to Jason’s surprise, those blue eyes suddenly glitter with excitement. “You know Mythomagic? Do you play? Do you have a favorite character?”

 He’s vibrating in his seat, and Jason actually leans back to keep ice cream from falling on him. Jason reaches over and dabs the melted ice cream with a tissue. “I’ve dabbled. You’ll see some of the other kids playing Mythomagic here. It helps them understand our world better. Our—hey. So. Do you…understand how you got here? What’s going on?”

 The boy stares at him, puzzled, evidently confused.

 “So you and I—this entire camp,” Jason says slowly, “we’re halfbloods.”

 “Halfbirds?”

 “Halfbloods,” Jason corrects. “Demigods. It means that we’re half human, half—”

 “Half god,” the boy finishes with an excited whisper. His eyes glitter again. “Like Mythomagic.”

 “Yeah, exactly like Mythomagic—”

 “Oh my god,” the boy says again—and the way he vibrates in the bed would make Jason think he was never healing in the first place. “My dad was a god? Oh my dad!”

 Jason stares at the boy in surprise. For a kid that had emerged from the forest covered in blood and spoils, this is the quickest he’s ever seen a demigod recover from learning about their parentage. This kid is acting just like he sounds—a kid—and is now grinning from ear-to-ear.

 “Who’s your parent? Apollo? Aphrodite?” The boy claps his hand on the mattress, then leans close to Jason with a gasp. “It’s Thanatos, isn’t it? That’s why Lark and Sparrow keep screaming death!”

 “Um, Hades, actually—” Jason peels the ice cream sundae away from the bed before it can spill, unable to hide his surprise. Most people didn’t list gods outside the main twelve, let alone mention his dad’s lieutenant of all people. He expects the boy to gulp and shirk away at first—like other kids did when they realized they were suddenly standing with the child of the King of the Dead, but the boy’s hand fall and he stares at Jason with even more fascination.

 “He has 4000 attack power,” the boy whispers in amazement. “5000 if someone else attacks first.”

 Jason blinks, yet again confounded by this boy’s enthusiasm. “Yeah—I think I heard that. You’re not…scared?”

 The boy doesn’t hear him. Instead, he’s mumbling again, evidently still stuck on Jason’s parentage with utter amazement. He falls silent, then looks back up to Jason with hopeful eyes. “Can we hold a funeral for Cloud?”

 This time, Jason’s lips fold into the familiar shape, aching almost, into the first smile that he’s had in a long time. “Is that what you want?”

 The boy nods up and down. “A funeral for Lark and Sparrow’s sister, and maybe a funeral for my—” The boy cuts himself off, the excitement suddenly waning. Jason can see it in the boy’s expression, something hitting him like a freight train, and it looks more solemn and more mournful than it did for Cloud.

 Oh. This boy has seen death recently—and not just for the sister of someone else.

 Jason reaches out and places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Blue eyes look back up to him, sadder than the bouncing boy from before.

 “We’ll give Cloud a Grecian funeral, just like in Mythomagic,” Jason says quietly. At the M word, the boy cocks his head back up, eyebrows furrowed. “And another for whoever else needs one. Whenever you’re ready.”

 The boy sniffles, his eyes swelling with tears once more.

 “Whenever you’re ready,” Jason repeats.

 “Okay.” To his surprise, the boy throws his arms around Jason like the first day, vice grip and all.

 Jason hesitates—but then folds his arms around the other boy, patting sympathetically as he hears the sniffles grow louder.

 *

 After Will and Lee give the okay, Jason plans a funeral in the woods for Cloud the Eagle—which quickly goes awry from the Grecian traditions that he had planned when Nico explains Lark and Sparrow’s constructive notes. Two of the notes include burying part of their sister “like humans do”—with things that she held dear. Nico whips a feather out of his hair, insistent that it came from the late bird, and explains that Cloud’s favorite items included bird seed and bottle caps.

 Thus, Jason instructs Nico to fill a lunch box with bird seed and bottle caps (there’s a small intermission where Jason watches Nico lecture Lark and Sparrow about eating their sister’s afterlife food) before placing the eagle feather gingerly on top, then listens to Nico and the birds deliver a eulogy for their fallen comrade.

 Grover plays the reedpipes as they lower the lunch box into the ground, and daffodils sprout over the mound. He’s touched, of course, that someone would care enough to want to hold a funeral for an animal of nature.

 “Will Charon accept bird seeds?” Nico asks worriedly.

 Jason doesn’t miss the way Grover suddenly squawks on the reed pipes, evidently amused by the question. He places a hand on Nico’s shoulder, not missing the way that Nico inches closer into his bubble. “Um, animals are out of Charon’s jurisdiction.”

 Nico frowns, clearly upset.

 “They usually get reincarnated. Sometimes as plants, or as new animals,” Grover explains. Jason has to hold back a sigh of relief—he doesn’t know how much more he can talk about death, but Grover is charmed enough. He gestures to the eagles. “Maybe a lark. Or a sparrow. Or—”

 “Or a raven?” Nico asks.

 Grover nods sagely, flashing a look that Jason has always received growing up. Then he ruffles Nico’s hair. “You sure know your birds, Nico.”

 Nico shrugs, the worry about Cloud not reaching the Underworld dissipating. Then, he notices what Jason has been wary of since the young demigod’s arrival. Nico gestures to Lark and Sparrow, who’d given Jason the stink eye since arriving at camp. “Why don’t they like you? They keep calling you the Deathbringer.”

 Jason cringes, and he notices Grover do it too. “Yeah—well, animals aren’t fond of me. They sense death.”

 Another frown curls against Nico’s lips, and the next look that the flashes his birds causes them to behave and stand erect. “But you just helped them bury their sister.”

 “Yeah, tell them that,” Grover mutters, and he nudges Jason affectionately.

 “I am,” Nico assures, and he climbs to his feet. The eagles squawk nervously—and then Nico turns around, his blue eyes fully on Jason. “And you’re so cool.”

 Grover spills into a grin, and Jason’s eyebrows raise in confusion. He can hardly call spending the afternoon filling a lunch box with bird seed and fending off grouchy birds cool. “You think I’m cool?”

 Unabashed, this boy stares at Jason with the same intrigue as he did when Jason started comparing Mythomagic to their lives. “The coolest.”

 Red flourishes in Jason’s cheeks, and Grover is elbowing him again. Before he can open his mouth, Nico turns to his pet eagles, hands on his hips like a doting mother.

 “If you two can’t respect Jason for holding a funeral for Cloud,” Nico says in his best parenting tone, “then scram.”

 Both birds make a sound, evidently shocked, but Nico places a hand in front of him, halting their speech.

 “No,” Nico says, “I’ll be okay here. Please go home.”

 Jason watches in utter disbelief as both birds pick themselves up, glaring at him, before flying away.

 Grover pats him on the shoulder. “You don’t want to know what they said.”

 Nico falls to his knees again and pets the daffodils over Cloud’s makeshift grave. His eyebrows furrow together, evidently troubled at the departure of their friends, but seems set on his decision.

 When he gets over his stupor, Jason clears his throat and walks up behind Nico, finally able to get close to this little grave that he helped make without prying eagle eyes. He kneels to the ground and pats a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s get you settled in at Cabin Eleven.”

[buoyantsaturn]

I’m Cool to Watch Atlas Burn (1/?)

summary: Bianca's been having a lot of private conversations with Chiron. Nico won't hold anybody's hand but Will's. Will might be 13, but sometimes he still acts like he's 10.

chapter title: Bianca's Rescue Operation Goes Very Wrong

word count: 3,388

read on ao3 | read bring on the monsters

When Nico turned twelve, he decided that he was suddenly too old for hand holding. Sometimes Bianca would reach out for his hand as they climbed the stairs out of the Underworld, or even just on the walk between the dining pavilion and the Big House, but Nico would always snatch his hand away. He had led a quest across the country, he was training with the best warriors in Elysium (and Punishment, when Alecto wasn’t looking), and he was almost a teenager. He didn’t need to hold anybody’s hand.

Except that Will was already thirteen, and he still liked to hold Nico’s hand whenever he had the chance. If it was Will, it was okay. Best friends were different. And it just so happened that Nico’s best friend hadn’t let go of his hand since they left camp. 

They were heading north, the three of them packed into the backseat of Jules-Albert’s car. Nico wasn’t entirely sure where they were going - Chiron had given the message to Bianca, because she was older - but he knew they were on a “retrieval mission.” Whatever that meant. For the last hour, Will had practically been bouncing in his seat and tugging on Nico’s hand, babbling some over-excited nonsense. Nico was just surprised that Bianca hadn’t told him to shut up yet, but she’d been abnormally quiet for the last week or so, ever since Chiron had pulled her aside for some important discussion.

“It’s so cool that you have your own driver,” Will was saying for maybe the fifth time. “That’s, like, rich people stuff! Like, my mama doesn’t even have her own driver, and, I mean, she doesn’t say she’s rich, but she kind of is.” 

“Well, my dad is the god of riches,” Nico reminded him.

Will elbowed him. “Your dad’s the god of a lot of stuff.” 

Nico grinned. “Okay, Apollo spawn.”

“Can you please get him to stop calling me that?” Will asked with a pout.

“Seph calls you that sunshine boy,” Nico told him. “Is that better?” 

Will’s nose scrunched up. “I think just sunshine is good enough.”

“Okay, just sunshine.” 

“Gods, you’re the worst.” Will dug his elbow into Nico’s side with more force than before. “Anyway, how come you didn’t get this guy to drive you to Texas when I was at school last year? Maybe then you wouldn’t have spent the whole visit asleep.” 

“Dad said I had to get better at shadow traveling before he would give me a better mode of transportation,” Nico explained. “Jules is good for long distances when I need to keep my energy up, and he’s fast, but he’s not always fast enough, you know? So I had to know how to get somewhere quick without draining all my energy in case of an emergency.” 

Jules turned off the main road, and Bianca sat up straighter. She spoke up for the first time since leaving camp. “I think we’re here.”

“Okay,” Will said. “And where’s here?”

Nico leaned over Will to look out the window. It was difficult to see so late at night, but he’d trained his eyes to see better in the dark after spending so long in the Underworld. “Military school?” He turned back to his sister and grinned. “Bia, we’ve talked about this, you’re not getting rid of Will that easily.” 

Bianca huffed and folded her arms. “That’s not what we’re here for.”

“Are you going to tell us?” Nico demanded. 

“There’s a demigod here,” Bianca said. “Chiron got a message from one of the satyr scouts. She’s powerful, but undetermined, so Chiron thinks she might be a target for Beckendorf.” 

At the sound of his old friend’s name, Will’s gaze dropped to his feet. Nico squeezed his hand.

“We’re here to pick her up and take her to camp,” Bianca continued. “It should be quick and easy. Grover should be waiting for us inside, and he’ll take us to the demigod. We’ll sneak her back out, and we’re done.” 

“That’s it?” Nico asked with a frown. “Then what are we here for? That seems easy enough for just one person.” 

“I invited you for the company.” 

Will leaned around Nico to ask, “Then why am I here?” 

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Because you two are attached at the hip.” 

The car stopped. Jules stepped outside, moving around the car - faster than one might usually expect for a zombie - to open Bianca’s door. Before climbing out, she turned to the two boys and said, “Stay behind me, stay quiet, and don’t touch anything.” 

Jules waited outside while the demigods walked in through the front door. 

It didn’t take them long to find Grover - really, he found them. “Bianca?” he asked as he approached, and his eyes flickered toward Nico and Will. “I thought you were coming alone.” 

She shrugged one shoulder. “I brought backup. My brother, Nico, and his friend, Will.” 

Grover’s eyes widened. “Two Big Three kids? Oh, that’s no good. Um. Maybe you should go back outside and I’ll just find a way to bring Lou Ellen to you.” 

Bianca frowned. “We’re already here. What’s the problem?” 

Grover leaned forward and hissed, “Monsters.”

“I think we can deal with a couple of--” 

“Mr. Underwood,” a voice boomed from across the hall, and the four of them turned to face the man walking toward them. “You were not supposed to leave the gymnasium. And who are these others? Outsiders?”

Bianca raised one hand and snapped her fingers. Nico felt like the very atmosphere rippled away from her fingers, and he had to blink a few times to shake that feeling away. She told the man, “We go to school here.” Really, he should’ve easily been able to tell that she was lying, considering how much snow they’d tracked inside.

The man blinked, then said, “Yes, of course. Why have you all left the gymnasium?” 

“Bathroom,” Grover blurted, causing the man to raise a suspicious eyebrow. “We were all looking for the bathroom, and went through the wrong door. We’re going back right now.” 

The man hummed and nodded. “Yes, I’ll walk you back. Lead the way.” 

Grover started forward, so the demigods followed. They weren’t able to speak again until they had entered a crowded gymnasium, complete with gently flashing lights and too-loud music. Will made a noise of disgust, and Nico glanced at him in confusion. “School dances are the worst,” Will explained. 

Nico would have to take his word for it. 

The teacher that marched them into the gymnasium vanished as soon as they were inside, so Grover pulled them toward the corner to continue talking. 

“That was the monster!” he whispered - as much as he could over the music. 

Will frowned. “But he’s just a guy.” 

“You didn’t see that lady with the chimera,” Nico commented. “I thought she was just some lady, too.” 

“What is he?” Bianca asked. 

“I don’t know yet,” Grover replied, shaking his head, “but the smell...that’s undeniable. And there’s no doubt that he can smell you guys, too. Which is why we need to get out of here, and fast.”

“Right,” Bianca said with a single nod. “So, where’s our girl?” 

Grover pointed across the gym toward a set of bleachers. There was a group of boys playing cards, and a girl with dip-dyed purple hair amongst them. She seemed to be winning, if the noisy complaints from the boys were anything to go by. “Lou Ellen Blackstone. She has a crazy kind of control over the Mist, but nothing that tells me who her parent might be.”

“A minor god?” Bianca suggested.

Grover shrugged. “Maybe, but she’s the most powerful child of a minor god I’ve ever seen.” 

“We can figure that out later,” Nico told them. “How do we get her out of here without Mr. Monster catching us?” 

“Dr. Thorn,” Grover corrected.

Will replied, “Nah, I like Mr. Monster better.” 

“Ignore them,” Bianca said to Grover. “Nico and I can shadow travel. I think I should just grab her and make a jump. The Mist should cover up our disappearance.” 

“You’ve never jumped with another person before,” Nico reminded her. 

“I’ve jumped with you.” 

“No, I’ve jumped with you.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said--” 

Will waved an arm between them. “Okay, nobody’s shadow traveling with anybody. We’ll go out the old fashioned way. Grover, what’s the best escape route?” 

“Back out the way we came,” he answered. “Through the front door.” 

“That’s the best route?” Nico asked. 

“It’s the fastest.” 

“But we’ll be out in the open!” 

“Hey, shut up,” Bianca said suddenly, her eyes darting through the crowd. “She’s gone.” 

The three boys spun around to see what Bianca was looking at. The bleachers were still full of boys playing cards, though Lou Ellen was no longer with them.

“What do we do?” Will asked. “Split up and look for her?” 

Nico squeezed his hand with a, “No, no splitting up. We don’t know what Mr. Monster is, and I don’t want him to try to pick us off one by one.” 

Will’s grip on Nico’s hand tightened. “Uh, yeah, no. I don’t want that, either.” 

Without saying a word, Bianca pushed past them, leaving them no choice but to follow after her. She marched up to the boys on the bleachers and demanded to know where Lou Ellen had gone. 

“She went somewhere with Dr. Thorn,” one of the boys answered. 

“Which way did she go?” Bianca asked. 

The boy pointed across the gymnasium. One of the doors was still swinging shut. 

They took off at a run. Grover definitely wasn’t the fastest of the group - Nico thought it was pretty unlikely that he’d ever meet anybody faster than Will - but he was clearly pushing himself to lead the group outside onto a snowy cliff. 

They found Dr. Thorn about a hundred yards away from the school, far enough away that the lights didn’t reach him, so they could really only see shadows in the glow of the moon. Bianca already had her bow drawn with an arrow nocked by the time they heard a shout of, “Stop! Not one step closer!” 

They paused. Nico focused on the shadows, forcing himself to see more clearly after being among such blinding lights - he felt much more comfortable out here in the cold, the quiet, the dark, about to fight a monster instead of socializing with people his own age. He could make out the difference between Lou Ellen and Dr. Thorn. He had a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. His other hand had a small box that Nico couldn’t identify.

That was as far as he got before a projectile launched toward them. Nico tackled Will into the snow to get him out of its way. 

“Where did that come from?” Bianca called out. 

“Somewhere behind him,” Nico replied, jumping back to his feet and pulling Will up with him.

Dr. Thorn yelled to them, “Keep your distance, and I won’t have to kill you yet.” 

“Let Lou Ellen go, and we won’t have to kill you,” Bianca shot back as she pulled out her knife. “Yet.” 

“Bia,” Nico said softly. “Jump.” 

His sister nodded, and in the next second, she had disappeared. Then, Thorn was howling in pain, and Will ran forward. He managed to get a hold of Lou Ellen, and Nico could hear him reassuring her that everything would be alright. Nico was about to jump in and help his sister finish off the monster when Bianca was suddenly thrown aside. Nico didn’t even have the opportunity to move before Thorn dove toward Will and Lou Ellen, grabbing them both. 

Nico had his sword in his hand in a second.

The next few things that happened were so quick that even Nico couldn’t see it all through the dark. There was the deafening noise of giant fan blades and wind that almost knocked him off his feet - something mechanical was flying near the edge of the cliff, though it wasn’t an airplane, so Nico didn’t know what it was. He did know that they started firing guns in their direction. He hit the ground to avoid any stray bullets. 

Something caught Thorn’s shoulder, causing him to release Lou Ellen, but it wasn’t a bullet. Whatever it was came from the opposite direction, somewhere behind Nico. He was able to see Lou Ellen stagger toward Grover, who pulled her off to the side, away from the fight. Then Thorn started dragging Will toward the edge of the cliff, and that’s when Nico got back to his feet. He could risk a few bullet wounds in order to save his best friend from monstrous kidnapping. 

He ran about halfway, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to catch up, he jumped into the darkness and emerged with an arm outstretched, inches away from grabbing onto Will’s coat. Something silver flashed by the side of Nico’s head, lodging into Thorn’s body and knocking him off balance, over the edge of the cliff.

Will went with him, screaming Nico’s name. 

“Will!” Nico shouted back, scrambling to the cliff’s edge, but he couldn’t see anything down below. All he knew was that the giant flying fan blades were getting farther and farther away, and his best friend had been lost to the darkness. 

Nico was still screaming for his friend by the time Bianca pulled him back from the edge. “There’s nothing you can do for him right now, Nico,” she told him. “He’s not dead, so let’s just hope it stays that way. We’ll find him, after we get Lou Ellen to camp.” 

Nico let his sister pull him to his feet, then he brushed her off. “No, I’m not going back to camp. I’m going to find him.” 

Bianca grabbed his arm in a death grip. “No, you’re coming back to camp. You’re no use after a single jump, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. You’re lucky that Jules is still waiting for us, because you’d probably pass out just from summoning him.” 

Nico yanked his arm out of her grip, crossing his arms across his chest, though he continued to walk alongside her. They found Grover and Lou Ellen heading toward the light of the school. 

“Where’s Will?” Grover asked as soon as he could see them. Nico’s eyes narrowed into a glare, which he pointed at the ground. “Oh. Oh, no. Not another one…” 

“Another one?” Lou Ellen asked, eyes widening in fear.

“Don’t listen to him,” Bianca told her, drawing Lou’s full attention in her direction. “Lou Ellen Blackstone, right? My name is Bianca, and this is my brother, Nico. We’re going to take you someplace safe, alright?” 

“What was that thing?” she asked. “And what kept hitting him?” 

“We don’t know,” Bianca replied, “but I don’t want to stick around to find out. C’mon, we have a car--” 

“Hang on a second,” a new voice said, and four heads whipped toward the woods. A girl, maybe a year or so older than Bianca, stepped toward them, and as she entered the light, Nico saw at least ten other girls following behind her. They all wore the same silver jackets, though the girl up front had an extra ring of silver in her hair. “Nobody’s going anywhere before we get some answers.” She grinned straight at Nico. “Hiya. Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, lieutenant of Artemis. I hear I have a couple new cousins.” 

Thalia explained the situation while the Hunters of Artemis - a group of girls all around Bianca’s age - set up camp, complete with silver tents and a few campfires. Lou Ellen was set up with Grover near one of the fires, with one of those silver jackets wrapped around her. Grover seemed to be explaining everything to her to the best of his ability.

Nico just wanted to get out there and find Will. 

He couldn’t even be excited about meeting the goddess of the hunt herself, only requesting that she let him hunt with her. She had refused, claiming that she didn’t hunt with the company of men, and then she ran off into the woods. 

Now, Nico sat with the name manticore burned into his brain, ready to raise hell in a literal sense if that’s what it took to get his best friend back. 

He sat inside one of the tents with Bianca and Thalia, drumming his fingers impatiently against his crossed arms. Thalia seemed ready for a nice, long chat, and if Nico didn’t feel quite so dizzy, he would’ve been out of there already. 

“Why don’t you two tell me what happened out there,” Thalia said after a short while, “before we showed up, at least.” 

“Chiron sent us here to pick up an unclaimed demigod,” Bianca explained, “but once we got outside, it was too dark for me to see much of anything. Nico has much better night vision than I do.” 

Thalia turned to him, and Nico heaved a heavy sigh. “That thing - the manticore - almost pulled Lou Ellen off the edge of the cliff. Then this...flying thing showed up and started shooting at us. Will pulled Lou Ellen away from the manticore, but it grabbed him and took him over the cliff.” He paused. “I almost had him… Just an inch more, and I would have had him…”

“Flying thing,” Thalia cut in. “What do you mean by that?”

Nico shrugged. “The loud, flying...thing! I don’t know, I’ve never seen one before.” 

“Oh,” she replied with a grin. “The helicopter.” 

Nico raised an eyebrow, and nodded his head slowly. “Sure, the...helicopter.” For the tenth time in as many minutes, Nico wished Will was there. He always managed to fill in the blanks in Nico’s sentences perfectly without making him feel like an idiot for not knowing about different things from the modern world. And he was much better at explaining that Nico and Bianca were - what was his phrasing? - misplaced in time. 

Thalia stretched her arms over her head. “Well, since Lady Artemis is hunting down the manticore, we really just need to wait around for a while. It shouldn’t take her that long, at least not to track him, but we’ve got plenty of time to relax. We can all rest here tonight, and then in the morning, we’ll head to Camp Half-Blood to wait out Artemis’s return.” 

“No,” Nico snapped. “We’re not waiting around. That thing took my best friend!”

Bianca set her hand on Nico’s arm, and he leaned away from the touch. “Nico, there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“We can try!” he shouted, his voice cracking near the end. Nico looked away and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was not about to start crying in front of a couple of girls. 

Bianca turned back to Thalia. “We’re going back to camp tonight. You can come with us, or you can meet us there later, but I won’t make Nico wait that long.” 

Thalia didn’t respond right away. It wasn’t until Nico looked up at her and saw her nodding that she said, “Okay. Give us a few minutes to pack up, and we’ll go with you. Bianca, would you mind helping out?” She stood, so the siblings got to their feet as well. “Sorry, Nico, but the other girls… They don’t work well with boys.” 

Nico crossed his arms with a huff. “I don’t want to hang out with a bunch of girls anyway.” 

Thalia grinned. She ruffled Nico’s hair as she passed him, telling him, “You’re even cuter than Percy, sometimes.” 

Before Nico could ask what that meant, Thalia stepped outside. 

Bianca took Nico by the shoulders, forcing him to face her, though he kept his gaze to the ground. “We’ll find him, Nico,” Bianca told him, and Nico’s eyes flickered upward. “First thing in the morning, we’ll talk to Chiron.” She waited until Nico nodded before continuing. “Go find Jules-Albert. We’re going to need a bigger car if we’re getting everybody back to camp.” 

Nico nodded again, and Bianca’s hands fell away from his shoulders. She started to leave, but Nico caught her with one hand wrapping around her own. 

He held his sister’s hand as they left the tent together.

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee | more nico birthday event stuff

[1heartfanfics]

Do you remember somewhere in Blood of Olympus Percy gets poisoned by that underwater guy I cant remember the name of? If you do, can you do a story where someone unlikely takes care of him? If you don't, I completely understand😊

Yes omg, another example of Rick Riordan being one of us because after that incident he talks about Percy having to go throw up several times. It was Kymopoleia and Polybotes who poisoned him.

 Side note though, I kind of hated that scene because Riordan made Percy so useless even though he was in his domain while Jason, who was very much out of his, was the hero. I’m not saying Percy has to be the hero all the time (although he is the main character really so like kind of) but I love the way he was always written as being so powerful (near water especially). Like at the end of House of Hades Nico says that Percy is the most powerful demigod he’s ever known, so I just felt like it was dumb for him to be rendered useless so easily in that scene. 

Anyway, enough of my rant. Here’s the part you came for:

TW: spoilers for blood of olympus I guess and depictions of vomit

“Percy are you okay?!?” Jason yelled, darting over to him once the poison dissipated. 

“Gah, yeah I think so,” Percy coughed and sputtered, stumbling around in the water.

“Alright, come on, lets get back up there. Hopefully the Argo II is okay,” Jason said. He could feel the air getting thin. His wind storm was thinning. 

“Could we, uh, maybe not mention exactly what happened down here? The son of the sky god saving the son of the sea god underwater thing?” Percy asked. 

“Yeah, sure bro,” Jason nodded, smiling sympathetically at his friend. He understood where Percy was coming from. They were supposed to be the leaders of this quest, but Jason seemed to just keep getting knocked unconscious, needing rescued. He’d felt useless many times along their journey. 

“Great. Thanks,” Percy said, still sounding out of breath. Normally he could breathe underwater just like it was air but he seemed to be struggling right now. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jason asked, “You’re looking a little green,” he said. He was sure it was more than just the tint of the water that was tinging Percy’s face. 

“Mhmm, fine,” Percy mumbled, stroking upwards to swim toward the surface, but his limbs weren’t coordinated enough so he didn’t go anywhere. Jason reached through his air bubble to grab Percy’s arm, willing the winds to take them to the surface before they ran out of air. 

Jason gasped for air as they reached the surface, not having realized just how shallowly he’d been having to breathe. He managed a few deep breaths, finally filling his lungs, before Percy suddenly gripped his arm. 

“Jas-” Percy said frantically, before his body convulsed and he vomited into the water.

“Oh Gods, okay,” Jason muttered to himself, kicking forward to move behind Percy. He wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him afloat while he brought up his stomach contents. Jason knew Percy had looked pretty green. 

Percy was limp against him, which worried Jason. Normally he could keep himself afloat just by willing the water to support him, but he was clearly in too bad of shape to even use that power, which was concerning. He didn’t seem to have it in him to even keep himself up the normal way, by kicking. Percy slumped forward of Jason’s arm, almost pitching into the water completely. 

“Ookay, come on. We’ve gotta get you above deck Perce,” Jason said, pulling Percy back against his chest until his head was resting on Jason’s shoulder. He kept one arm wrapped firmly around Percy’s waist, using his other arm to swim toward the boat. 

He managed to get them over to the Argo II, which took a lot longer than he’d expected. It hadn’t looked that far, but with Percy’s dead weight it felt like miles, and he was exhausted. 

“Gonna need a little help here,” Jason panted as they reached the ladder. His muscles were aching and his breath was coming in gasps. 

Thankfully, Percy seemed to have recovered some, because he was able to grab the ladder, hauling himself out of the water. Once he climbed to the top he leaned over and offered Jason a hand, pulling him the rest of the way to the deck, where both boys collapsed. 

Immediately, all of their friends rushed over. A myriad of hands pulled them both up off of the deck and into chairs. Percy forced his eyes open, wincing as his vision swam (pun intended), making him feel dizzy and sick all over again. 

“What in Hades happened down there?” 

Percy blinked a few times, taking some slow deep breaths until the worried faces of his friends came into view. He forced himself to focus on the calming motion of the waves below him, trying to settle his stomach, which was still churning queasily. 

“It was the goddess Kymopoleia. She was working for Polybotes. But we got her to turn against him and help um, help us kill him. But Percy got poisoned. My uh, my venti cloud protected me from it I guess,” Jason explained, still breathing hard. 

His friends all murmured a collection of sympathies and sighs of relief, but Percy couldn’t focus on any of them. He still felt too sick. 

“Where’s Annabeth?” he croaked. 

“She’s helping Leo man the wheel while he does some repairs,” someone answered, Piper maybe. 

“Maybe someone should go switch her out,” Jason said, glancing worriedly over at Percy. He needed his girlfriend right now.

“No,” Percy said quickly. “No don’t worry her,” he shook his head. 

“Are you sure?” Hazel asked, placing a hand on Percy’s arm. Jason was right, he really didn’t look so good. 

“I’m fine,” Percy insisted, although his ashen complexion said otherwise. “Could someone just help me to my room?” he asked weakly. 

“I will,” a small voice spoke up from behind the rest of the group. Nico?

Everyone parted for him to come forward, looking surprised. He didn’t really speak all that often. In fact, they often times forgot that he was even there, lurking in the shadows. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Nico said, stepping in front of Percy. He grabbed Percy’s wrist, pulling his arm around his own shoulders to prop him up. Although Percy was still a handful of inches taller than Nico, he was stronger than he looked, so he began to half drag half pull Percy down the hall toward the below deck quarters. 

“You doing okay?” NIco asked when Percy let out a soft groan, leaning even more heavily on Nico. 

“Not feeling so hot,” Percy shook his head.

Nico realized how chalky Percy’s complexion had become, mouth hanging open slightly and his eyes unforced. He had his free hand clutched to his stomach, hunched forward over it slightly.

“Are you going to throw up?” Nico asked, putting the pieces together. Percy nodded miserably, rubbing his hand back and forth across his stomach.

“Okay, come on,” Nico began dragging Percy again, this time with the destination of the bathroom instead of his room. 

“Ohh my stomach,” Percy moaned. His hand moved up to cover his mouth, fighting back nausea.

Nico pushed their way into the bathroom, lowering Percy down onto the floor in front of the toilet as gently as he could. As soon as Percy’s knees hit the ground he lurched forward over the toilet and heaved up a mouthful of seawater and green sludge. The poison, Nico thought, wincing. 

“You’re okay,” Nico said, crouching down behind Percy and placing a hand on his back. He was surprised to find that Percy’s clothes were wet, which he’d failed to notice before. He must really be feeling bad if his powers couldn’t even keep him dry. 

Percy continued to pant over the toilet, clutching the rim with white knuckles. Nothing happened, though, so Nico pulled him away from the bowl to lean against the wall behind them. 

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes and in bed,” Nico said, positioning Percy’s arm around him again so he could get him up.

“Nooo,” Percy groaned, shaking his head, “Feel nauseous.”

“Yeah you were poisoned Percy, might take a while to wear off. I’ll put a trash bin beside your bed, okay? You need to get some rest,” Nico argued, hauling Percy’s limp body off the ground with some difficulty. He was all dead weight now. 

Nico and Percy managed to slowly limp their way down the hall to Percy’s room, which he had to admit, instantly made him feel a bit better, Just to be surrounded by his things. 

“Here, get changed,” Nico said, tossing Percy a dry t-shirt and a pair of shorts. While Percy got out of his wet clothes, Nico pulled the trash over to sit beside Percy’s bed, laying a towel underneath it just in case his aim was off. 

When Percy was finished he helped him climb into bed, pulling the covers up over him to still his shivering. This poison had really done a number on him it seemed. He watched as Percy closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. 

“You need anything else Percy?” Nico asked, leaning against the wall. Percy cracked an eye open to look up at him with an expression Nico had never seen on him before, fear. 

“Could you-? Could you stay? Just for a minute,” Percy asked quietly, averting his eyes. He sounded so young, despite being almost 5 years older than Nico. 

“Yeah. Yeah of course,” he said, moving to sit at the edge of Percy’s bed as he closed his eyes again. 

Nico had a feeling that Percy and Jason hadn’t exactly been honest about what had happened on their underwater adventure. Whatever really went down, it had clearly shaken Percy up pretty good. As much as Nico looked up to Percy, it made him feel slightly better about his own life to know that even someone as strong and as brave as Percy Jackson had his vulnerable moments. 

[scribblesofanaricat]

Crossed Out

(an older version has been posted here before, but I’ve finally gotten round to making a fully edited version with an altered ending (and hopefully a bit more of an explanation), so I hope you guys like)

---------

It’s not a crime to be curious.

That simple fact is what’s led him to end up stuffing his knapsack with an assortment of things that normally have no business being in there. Normally. A scarf that just so happens to be ideal for somebody who’d rather their face went unseen. A chunk of nut and raisin-infused bread snuck- borrowed from the loaf his mam keeps wrapped up in the kitchen (which he can never resist sampling at the best of times). And the battered old woodcutter’s axe he can barely raise any higher than his shoulder - just in case.

That bag’s been packed for days now, wedged out of sight in a corner of his clothes chest. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to do anything more than that. Until now, that is.

His teeth clench at every telltale creak of the floorboards under his bare feet, even though he isn’t really doing anything wrong…yet. He gives them a hard prod with his toes all the same. Traitors.

As he fervently hoped, the front room is clear of any mother-shaped obstacles when he slinks his way downstairs. Just the rough-hewn table and chairs sitting in their usual corner and the mismatched sideboards pushed up against their usual walls, although one of them now has what looks like fresh creamy milk waiting patiently atop it.

Right on cue, a distinctive voice swells from beneath the threadbare carpet.

“Arlo, that milk was just delivered this morning! Don’t you go drinking it straight from the bottle!”

“No, Mam,” he half-mutters, setting down the glass bottle he definitely hasn’t just been raising to his lips.

This is okay. Perfect, really. If she’s down in the cellar, that means she’s probably busy making preserves to sell at the market or something again. By the time she notices he’s neither in the house nor working in the garden, he’ll be well away. And then…then he’ll have some answers, whether she likes it or not. Satisfaction curls in his chest like a languid cat.

Arlo inches out of the door shoulder-first, lifting and lowering the latch as noiselessly as his fingers can manage - the same fingers that nearly drop the scarf twice when he knots the stained grey fabric over the lower half of his face, cursing the pit of his stomach for the uncomfy feeling spreading through it like so much spilled mead. What does he even have to feel guilty about? It’s not a crime.

Enough of that. Enough of it all.

He darts one glance over his shoulder, back at the rusty rooftop and their patch of garden, a weather-beaten face spotted with a mishmash of flowery freckles (except for the bit with his mother’s favourite lilies arranged on it, obviously. Those, she keeps spick and span and never lets him go anywhere near, though he has no idea what she thinks he’ll do to them). Then he starts to run. His legs set about their task in earnest, without taking directions from his mind. He already knows the kinds of places where he can find them…not that it’s any huge secret anyway. Or rather, it’s a secret to everybody; the type little kids hear all about as soon as they can toddle a few steps. Then they get their ears bruised with dire warnings to stay well away from it. Stupid. As if that won’t just put ideas into their tiny heads.

He’s not a kid anyway, Arlo reminds himself, puffing his chest out a little despite how short his bursts of breath are growing. This is no daft childish game. It’s something important. Something that goes hand in hand with the way he’s been jolting awake lately. Gagging around a yell jammed in his throat; a weird sort of dread tying his insides into hard knots. Or opening his eyes to find a stupid wetness spilling down his cheeks…or (he stifles a groan at the memory, heat rushing to his face) soaking his bedsheets.

He doesn’t know if he’s having nightmares...hallucinations, terrors, whatever. How can he? They float away like soap bubbles on washing day every time he tries to latch onto them. But it feels familiar to him, in all the places where it shouldn’t. One morning, he even woke up with the ghost of a name on his tongue and of blood suffocating him with its metallic tang. That’s all they were, though. Ghosts. And they vanished just like that, leaving nothing behind but a dragging weight in his chest.

Arlo just doesn’t know. Yet he’s sure- he’s sure he remembers, no matter how dimly.

To make matters weirder, talking to his mam hasn’t been any use whatsoever. No sooner do the words leave his lips than she butts in to set him some chore or another, or else shifts the topic in a way that curls his hands into fists. The last time Arlo tried to ask her about it, she had her own grilling ready for him – “Who have you been talking to? Who’s put all of this in your head?” – and something in her tone, something strange and strained, made him drop the subject like a hot coal.

He supposes some part of him wanted her to laugh at these dreams that he can’t even remember and at him for ever confusing them with real memories. That’d be better than having this brush-off tossed his way instead. Anything’s better than that.

So this is all her fault, if anything. All she has to do is be straight with him, just like she is with everything else…but no. Instead, he’s been left to flail in the dark. And driven to a straggle of shacks, several miles apart from any other dwelling.

At least, any human dwellings.

Arlo’s foot chooses just the wrong moment to catch on a particularly mean-spirited tussock. He stumbles as gracefully as a sledgehammer in a knife fight, the scrubland sailing up to greet his face. It’s not until after he clambers back up (along with a muttered spate of the words his mam indulges in when she thinks he’s out of earshot) that he gets back to reflecting on the rumours that’ve flown thick for as long as he can remember.

The Hexes. The…things that hushed voices regularly call witches, demigods, monsters, spirits, fae, devils and everything in between. And the only ones in this world who can shed any light on what’s happening to him.

As far as Arlo’s concerned, Hexes are the sort of stuff that everyone acts so certain about, like they know everything that is to know. Yet when they’re asked if they’ve ever even seen one for themselves, their faces flap like fish caught up in a net. And that’s the thing with all these rumours. His mam’s market customers insist they’ve spoken to others who’ve seen Hexes melding with slivers of moonlight and devouring the stars. Somebody has a relative whose neighbour knows someone who swears blind that the lot of them are descended from the legendary Ironflayer clan – that kind of thing.

None of them really know anything.

Before long, Arlo will.

*

Their shadow’s just slightly out of sync. Maybe it’s the gloom playing tricks, or maybe all those tales have made Arlo ridiculously paranoid. But he could swear that the very silhouette of the Hex is something a little too slow, a little too disjointed. Something that breathes.

Arlo tries to keep his head fearlessly raised, his eyes darting from corner to corner as the Hex breathes life into a candle wick, birthing yet more shadows, and shadows of shadows, from everything it casts its azure-tinged flame upon. The grip on his bag tightens all the same, clenching around the long bump of the axe’s handle.

He can’t make out their face. Not really. Every time he attempts to get a glimpse, it melts away somehow. In the end, he resigns himself to running his fingers in a weird erratic rhythm along the splintery surface of the table, not unlike his mam’s at home. He has to wrench his mind away from the thought of what her face would look like if she knew where he is right now.

Arlo doesn’t see the Hex placing the mixture down in front of him. One moment there’s nothing there but the elaborate symbols (probably occult-y hieroglyphs or something) carved into the tabletop; the next, kaleidoscopic light spills out over its surface from inside a vial. Specks of gold dance in its contents, rising and falling, swallowing the colours and spitting them back out.

His brow furrows, one hand coming up to rake through damp hair.

“You want…me to drink that?” The question rasps in his throat.

The shadow opens its eyes, two acid-green spots burning into Arlo’s face. But the Hex doesn’t so much as turn their head, let alone halt. ‘Not a crime, neophyte, I’m sure?’ they ask at length, words emerging as though they’ve drawn them out from some deep well. They echo off cold damp stone that isn’t there; they drip down his neck like icy, brackish water. ‘And neither are such answers as you seek. Drink.’

Arlo stares at the unknown mixture. Just like the Hex’s shadow, it stares back, pressing spectral hands against its crystal prison. Drink.

He shouldn’t.

He has to. Doesn’t he have every right?

His fingers obviously agree. Despite the stupid tremor running through them, they greedily close around the vial and prise out the cork, letting loose vapours that ghost over his skin.

The brew blazes its way down his throat and sets his stomach alight. Cough after cough rattles deep in his chest. He isn’t sure whether he’s been forced to his knees or not. Those gold spots have returned to swarm his vision, scratching out everything before him.

Arlo’s head rolls from side to side, trying to find where the Hex has disappeared to, trying to get some sign that this is what’s meant to happen. All that comes out is a mangled noise (has his tongue always been this heavy?) before it snakes into his head and swallows him whole. And the floor beneath his feet - or is it the entire world? - caves like a house of cards…

and tips him down, down, down into a slough of phantoms lurking,

living,

breathing,

waiting to snare him in its murky waters. A quicksilver voice sings him to his fall.

‘Memories don’t sleep, neophyte. They only like to pretend that they do.’

*

Cold. Cold biting at his skin like a million tiny pinpricks. Cold tendrils creeping around his heart, around the very flow of blood through his veins. And the kind of silence that comes when time itself is suspended.

Even so, the masses of limbs and soulless white eyes watch him.

He watches them right back, as empty of fear as they are of flesh and blood. How can they live here? What do they feed on?

Whatever your head offers us, is their answer, as they bare bloodied teeth in a gory grin.

As if in explanation, the golden scratches swimming at the edges of his vision fall away, only to be replaced with a face he feels like he knows. A face that cradles him in its familiarity yet crushes him beneath the expression etched deep in every line of it. He can’t place that expression. But the voice belonging to that face (didn’t that voice once call something to him about a milk bottle, a million years ago?) drips with it.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

Him. Him, him, him.

He stares at the place where that disembodied face hangs long after it’s flaked away like a butterfly drawn on a wall. Is he the reason for that shattered look in her eyes?

That’s when a twisted symphony – blurry and broken but somehow sharp enough to pierce him over and over again – awakens from the depths of some excruciating black hole spreading through his head.

Screams of a name. That name isn’t his own. It’s a name that once slept in a little bed next to his and proudly showed him the worms it had dug up with a stick behind the house. Once. It’s gone now. But also not gone at all.

It’s still there, out in the garden - only this time, it’s below the earth. He never saw that happen. A whisper in his heart knows it did, all the same, and knows exactly where (don’t ever touch the lily patch).

A wasted limb ending in long yellow claws stretching out from underneath his mattress…its grey splinter teeth, the smaller body leaping in front of him and trying to wrestle its grip from his ankle…the blood. So much blood, splattered so far. He remembers wondering how such a small person could hold that much.

He remembers.

And everyone kept it hidden from him, she kept it hidden from him, his mother- no, their mother, theirs-

That clawed arm, those teeth-

It’s coming back.

It’s coming to finish what it couldn’t before.

His cry seems to come from across an ocean. The pain explodes, taking every spectre with it, as his fingernails dig into his scalp like they can tear it away.

Gone is any idea of who he is, where he came from, what he was searching for in the first place. All of it is crossed out, scrubbed from existence, until only a blank wall remains. With one thing painted on it in burning black letters.

It’s coming.

*

It’s not a crime either, to want to be sure. To have to be sure, to know. The second the rough wooden lid is prised open with numb fingers, something cold and black grips his heart anyway - and he wouldn’t care if it struck him down where he stands.

The lid slips, joining the shovel on the lilies beneath his feet. Its fall could almost be called soft, if that wasn’t so wrong. But how could anything be more wrong than- than this?

He isn’t sure how long his gut chokes him, burning his throat, nostrils, eyes. When they finally give up, he drags a sleeve across his mouth. Huddles in the hole that seems to be opening into a bottomless chasm even as he clenches himself against its side, blurrily aware of the damp earth pressing into his forehead. Just like the nothingness seeping through his soul.

Little by little, one arm raises until barely two inches separates it from the arm in the box. One so alive. The other so grey, like the shadow they’ve become to him. And small. And folded with withered flowers over a sunken chest.

The gashes. So many. He wonders if it’ll do the same to him.

(It’s coming.)

Those phantoms laugh. Play in his head.

(It’s coming.)

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 14

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

Notes: I can’t sleeeeeeeep. :/

=

Delilah sat on the floor of her apartment, art notebook in one hand and colored pencils in another. She was carefully positioned between Loki's long legs, the man in question having sat himself down while she quietly worked and perched his chin onto her shoulder. Loki had wandered over to her flat a little after noon, a pair of clippers in hand, hoping to get Lilah to shorn off his growing locks. He had found her so intensely focused on her task, an impressive portrait of Brunnhilde wielding Dragonfang, that he had made no noise, and instead joined her on the floor to observe.

Every now and again, Lilah would reach behind her and caress Loki's cheek while she thought about what lines to work on next. In return, he would place a lingering kiss on hers and simply basked in the warmth of her being. It was a quiet existence, but comfortable. Then again, neither of them did terribly well with talking, but no one could deny the fact that their interactions clicked together perfectly– or at least they would if anyone were to see them.

"More shade?" She asked, softly, her voice gravelly from disuse.

Loki ghosted his fingers over the paper to the lower left corner. "Around this part of the cape, perhaps." 

Lilah hummed her agreement and switched to a 6B pencil to darken her shadows. He pressed another kiss to her temple for good measure, only half paying attention to a book he held open in his left hand with the intention to while away the time. A knock broke them both out of their reverie with an unwelcome start. 

"Are you expecting anyone?"

"No, I'm not," she replied, frowning.

"I'll get rid of them for you." Without waiting for a response (not that one was coming), he leapt to his feet, and crossing to the door. He opened it wide without checking the peephole a minute later.

A woman, short, mid fifties stared at Loki with the same emerald green shade he loved so much in Delilah. Kin?

There was a long stretch of silence between them, before the woman found her voice and sneered at the Aesir. "You." With a barely hidden growl, she swung with her handbag at Loki, forcing him to hop backwards with a yelp.

Definitely kin.

"Pardon me, madam, but what are you doing?" Loki demanded between blows of the overstuffed bag.

The protest was enough to get Delilah to look up, causing her to double-take at the sight before her. "Mom? What the hell?" Lilah's mother started yelling at her daughter in what seemed to be very fast-paced Spanish while still taking swings at the dark-haired demigod.

"What is he doing here!?" Her mother demanded, screaming.

"He's my friend!" Lilah grabbed her mother's arms and backed her up. "Stop. Stop!"

"I'm very confused. Not surprised, but very confused," Loki announced over the din of yelling, slowly, letting his hands lower from their defensive stance.

"Just when you had done us all the favor of dying you–"

"Mom, stop!" She jumped into an argument, matching her mother's volume and fierceness with little effort. "Lo, could you give us a minute?"

"I won't leave you alone, if that's what you're suggesting," he ground out. His sea glass eyes were set unwaveringly on the older woman and at the flushed cheeks of her anger. Despite the voice in his head bellowing that this was the perfect moment to make a disappearing act, he was reticent to leave Delilah's side. His body was flighty, adept at misdirection and survival, but his mind was torn. Mostly because he was curious about why the woman was so cross at him to begin with. Other than him being, you know, himself.

"Why?" The woman seethed. Apparently he had been musing aloud and while Delilah groaned and hung her head in a sentiment close to exasperation, her mother looked even angrier, if possible. "You lead a whole army of aliens into the city, kill hundreds, ruin the lives of millions… and you ask why?"

Loki felt foolish for the rogue thought even popping into his head, but he stuttered it out, regardless. "I just… I wanted to know whether you hated me on p-principle or…," he struggled for a better phrase, "something more specific?" Delilah had raised her head to stare at him with a hint of a smirk on her face– even at his most awkward, Loki never stuttered. "Usually it's more specific. I don't tend to agree with the public and I cause a general sense of discomfort around most, but more often than not people can mention an isolated incident they take issue with." Her grin grew–he definitely never rambled. "I can't remember most that have been brought to my attention the last two months, but–"

"Shut up!" Loki snapped his mouth shut, taking a half-step backwards at the harshness of the mother's tone. "Your father must be turning in his grave watching you interacting with this scum." Loki's eyes cut quickly to Delilah, silently asking the dreaded question while managing to not say a word. She shook her head in the negative in response and he breathed a little sigh of relief.

"Dad understood what happened."

"Your father lost everything because of him– his job, our savings, his sleep, his will to live... Do I need to remind you how we lived after the attack?"

Lilah hesitated, switching her gaze between Loki and her mother before responding. "Now's not the time, Mom." Her mother ignored her.

"My husband was an engineer. He had a good job in the city until you destroyed the office building and killed the man who owned the company. Everyone was hurting, reconstructing. We tried our best to get our lives back together, but no company was hiring, our home was destroyed, and our savings were dwindling." She had turned to face Loki in all her rage, and he stood motionless, with his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Delilah had been accepted to Yale and we couldn't even afford to send her to SUNY. Hell, we could afford a ratty one bedroom apartment or proper meals or decent clothes. She worked two jobs to help out. Gave up on her dream school, on her whole damn future, because you wanted to play King of the World for a d–"

"OK. That's enough," Delilah grumbled, skimming past Loki to drag her mother out of the apartment.

They were gone for a long time. Loki set to pacing the living room in a tight circuit. When that became tedious, he turned to the abandoned sketchbook. Within its pages he saw portraits of nearly everyone in the Compound. The Avengers in their heyday, in various states of being. A good amount of them were done while the subjects were focused on something else, entirely. He came across a picture of himself, legs kicked up on the table as he balanced on the back legs of his chair and read. He was older, his hair longer, wilder, and his cheekbones stood out in sharp relief.

A few dozen pages later, there was another of him in a similar position, but this time he was smirking as he looked over the cover at her with a predatory stare. He could only guess at the thoughts in that being's head. Though, considering they involved Delilah they were anything but pure. Another sketch, still, had him hunched over his daggers with a whetstone. His hair was shorn short and though he looked to be carefully sharpening his blades, he wore a secretive smile, knowing full well he was being observed and basking in the attention. Whether she had chosen to be more forgiving with the shading in the last one or he had simply learned how to relax his expression was still up for debate.

The front door clicked open, pulling Loki's attention.

Delilah looked more tired than anything else. He didn't say a word when she quietly padded across the floor, and fell into the seat beside him, gaze distant and unfocused. He hesitated reaching out for her, settling for brushing the side of his hand against her own. With a half groan, her shoulders slumped and she teetered sideways until her whole side rested against his. His lips grazed her crown seemingly out of habit.

There was a long stretch of silence before Delilah quipped. "Oh, I never introduced you two. That's rude of me."

"Your mother certainly needs no introduction, pet." Something inside him fluttered at the tiny smile he received in exchange for the term of endearment. "And I suspect you should have waited until after she had gotten over the murderous rage."

"If it hasn't faded in nearly twelve years, I don't think it ever will," she replied maneuvering his arm around her shoulders and settling against his chest. For a long moment she watched the conflict boiling just under the surface, watching the cogs in his head move and click in kind. She groaned. "Please don't."

"Lilah..." His voice carried the urgency of his unsaid request.

"I was having such a great day. Can't we just go back to it?"

Loki dragged his fingers through her gentle waves, skimming her scalp so soothingly she practically purred. "You know I will just ask FRIDAY, later." He tilted her chin so their eyes could meet. "How much worse can it get?"

"It just…ripples, you know... it wasn't just death you brought to the city. Tony helped rebuild most of New York, honestly, but there was hundreds of industries destroyed and people lost their factories, their start-ups, their jobs, their livelihoods– again, Tony employed as many people as he physically could. It was just too much for just him to deal with."

"How does that get to you?"

Delilah sighed. "Dad was a civil engineer. The firm he worked for got destroyed. It was a family company and the owner died in the attack. He couldn't find a new job for the longest time." Though she had fully intended to stop there, Loki stared at her expectantly until she crumbled. "I was seventeen years old and was set to go to Yale university in the Fall. It's a very good private school; expensive, but I had gotten a partial scholarship and my parents agreed to pay for the rest."

"Education isn't free here?"

Lilah laughed, a little drily. "No, but that is a debate for another day."

"This is what passes for civilized society on this planet?"

"You tried to invade us with war-mongering cyberaliens," she retorted, deadpan.

Loki hesitated in speaking before he acquiesced. "Fair point well made."

"Anyway, with no money coming in, the plan wasn't feasible, anymore. I looked for work, which is how I ended up at STARK industries. I was decent at coding and was easily trainable, but mostly I would stubbornly work at problems until I solved them and, let's face it, Tony loves the obsessive types. So after a year Tony decided he would pay for me to go to college. As long as I kept my grades up and didn't fall grossly behind on work, he would pay for everything. I finished my bachelor's early and did a PhD shortly after." She sighed when she caught sight of Loki's worriedly furrowed brow. "It was rough while we were still getting it together. Before I got to Tony, I waited tables and scrubbed floors for a couple of months. We barely scraped by that time."

"And you still speak to me?"

"The way I figure, if Odin had managed to hug you once in your goddamn life, you would've turned out to be his most valuable asset. Thor agrees. You can't really judge a person on what they do in a moment of desperation. I'm not saying anything you did was right –you fucking psycho– but that's not everything you are." Loki was staring at the floor as he worked his jaw, offering no additional response. "I thought, at least, I would get a chuckle out of calling you a fucking psycho."

He cut his eyes at her. "Do truths warrant a laugh?"

"Are you still the same foolish boy who just wants to impress his father?"

"I was only Odin's pawn," he replied, a little offended.

Lilah laughed. "Yeah, pawns don't get royal titles and cushy rooms in the palace, you dork." She nudged his side when he didn't make any noise or expression.

"I apologize," he mumbled a great deal later.

Delilah looked up from the sketchbook with a frown. "For what?"

"The attack. For allowing my stupid feelings of inadequacy–"

Her hand came over his mouth, smearing soot from her pencils onto his pale skin. "OK, we're gonna have to do something about the self-deprecation."

His own hand reached up to remove the muzzle. "Are we done covering me in graphite?"

"In which case?" She asked, looking between him and the sketch of himself frowning at the floor. The shadows had returned in full force, but it was different than in previous drawings. His whole demeanor looked worried and tightly wound rather than angry and plotting.

"Stop making my feelings valid!"

Delilah's eyes nearly bugged out, her whole body leaning backwards away from his booming voice. "Oh, wow. That's… so much more than I am trained to deal with…" She collected her thoughts for a few minutes before offering a response. "Lo, every decision you and I have made have landed us here. Do you not like being here?"

His hardened face turned vulnerably soft. "You know I do."

"I like being here, too. I would've never worked for Tony under any other circumstance and I'm good at what I do. I wouldn't be here if your feelings weren't every little bit as valid as mine, or my mother's. Feelings don't lose validity because they're complicated or messy."

"But the circumstances–"

"Are irrelevant." Delilah had gone back to drawing, her mouth set in a tight line.

Loki pouted. "Are you cross?" His hand rested on her shoulder. "Delilah."

"Does it matter if I am or not?" She did a double take when the sofa shifted beside her. "Where are you going?"

"To… anywhere else," he replied awkwardly, gesturing the door a little unsure.

Lilah narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "You really need to see a therapist, bud."

He hesitated again, looking at the door, then back at her. "So, I should…?" 

She tossed the notebook beside her feet where it landed with a thud before patting the cushion beside her. He reluctantly took his seat, watching as she shifted to fit into his side. Her hand still held his after she slung his arm over her shoulders, absently trailing her fingertips over the small scars and freckles on his hand. The thought of her struggling made his heart constrict in the most painful of ways, at some point his eyes no longer could contain his tears. The second Delilah turned his palm to press a kiss into it was the moment he well and truly fell apart.

[avengerscompound]

Home - Chapter 2

Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word Count:  2388

Warnings:  Angst, parenthood, sexual manipulation, action, injuries, underage drinking and drug-taking.

Synopsis:  16 Years after the death of Daisy, Steve and Bucky have successfully raised two teenage kids with telepathy. Teens are never easy to live with though. Sarah in particular likes to test boundaries. Now on top of all the usual challenges of parenting, they have to deal with troublemaking demigods, a daughter who just wants to be accepted for who she is and running the Avengers. That’s when the children of other super-powered individuals start going missing.

Chapter 2

The party for Sarah’s 16th birthday started at around six. It was more of a family event, Sarah had somehow beyond all reason and without using her powers convinced both Steve and Bucky to let her go to a music festival with her friends over the weekend. So, for now, it was just the Avengers and any of the other kids who currently inhabited the compound.

Sarah played nice, but somehow the party just seemed to remind her how much of a freak she was. Sure there were others there who were enhanced. Carol, Wanda, Vision were all forces to be reckoned with. Peter had come up from Manhattan with Mary Jane and their little girl, May Day. May Day was obviously enhanced too. Otherwise, everyone else was mundane. Add to that the fact she was gay and everyone kept asking her about boys and she didn’t want to do the coming out thing like that, and the two dads and a dead mom factor, that everyone tiptoed around despite how their minds screamed out about it. She just felt like an outsider.

She plastered a smile on her face and acted like she was having fun. It was important to her dads. So she would do it for them. In about two weeks she’d start getting reminded about how her mother had died and so for now, it was pretend to be enjoying herself.

At seven the gods arrived. That made her feel a little bit more normal. Nothing like being in the presence of deities to make you realize how average you are.

Thor greeted everyone warmly. He hugged Sarah tightly wishing her a happy birthday. Sarah secretly loved hugs from Thor. She always acted like she didn’t, she’d pull a face. Deep down though she liked that Thor didn’t use kid gloves on her. Anyone else would break a rib being crushed like that. She liked being recognized for what she was.

Thor gave her battle armor as a present. She was extremely than excited about that. She couldn’t contain her excitement.

“Oh. My. God! Maybe while I’m waiting to take over Captain America from dad I can use some kind of Warrior Princess name for my code name.” She squealed.

“It may be time for you to try to lift the hammer! Perhaps you can take the mantle of Thor from me!” Thor roared.

“Hey if you’re worthy of the title, I would have to be a much worse of a person than I am to lift it.” Sarah teased.

Thor clapped her on the shoulder bellowing with laughter.

Bucky looked over the armor. “I don’t know, Sare. This doesn’t look particularly practical. Your arms and legs and midriff would all be bare leaving you exposed.” Bucky poked Sarah in the belly.

“Dad!” She squeaked and elbowed him.

“Plus that metal would be heavier and allow for less movement than what dad uses.”

“But it looks so cool,” Sarah whined.

“You worry too much, Barnes,” Thor said. “The Lady Sif has fought many a battle in armor much like this and come out with nary a scratch. I am sure the Lady Sarah could handle herself.”

“Let’s see what dad says,” Bucky said. “Steve!”

“No! No, no no no! Daddy!” Sarah squeaked trying to pack the armor back up. Bucky started laughing.

Steve strolled over. “What did you get, Sarah?” He asked kissing Sarah on the crown of the head.

“Nothing. It’s just stupid.” She said, trying to hide away the gift.

“I just gave her some new armor. She will make a magnificent warrior.” Thor said, taking the box from Sarah and handing it to Steve.

Steve opened the box and examined its contents. “This doesn’t really look practical, Sarah.” He said, gravely. “You aren’t on the team though, so if this is what you want to train in.” He shrugged.

“I’m 16 and stronger than most of you here! Why can’t I be on the team! You took Jamie out with you!” Sarah cried.

“Sarah, you’re just too young,” Steve said.

“It’s because I’m a girl! Isn’t it? You let Jamie when he was 16!” Sarah yelled.

“That was against my better judgment,” Steve said, remaining as stoically calm as he always did when dealing with Sarah’s temper.

“It’s not fair!” She yelled.

“Sarah,” Steve said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She jumped up and stormed off. Steve went to follow but Bucky caught his hand. “Let her go. She’s young and she takes after her dad at that age. She just needs to cool off.” He said.

“I just wish she’d see …” Steve said, collapsing onto the couch.

“Oh like you did, when you were 4F?” Bucky said.

“Jerk,” Steve said.

“And you’re a punk. And she’s your daughter. Way more than you might be comfortable with. You should let her come along sometime. Maybe she can have a uni like yours.”

“She could be Miss America,” Steve said.

Bucky burst out laughing. “I think Thor’s battle armor would fit Miss America better.”

Sarah stormed through the facility and ended up in one of the training rooms. There were sparring dummies set up and she punched one. It pulled clean out of the floor, shot across the room and slammed into the wall.

There was a slow clap behind her. She spun around in a defensive fight stance. It wasn’t often people could sneak up on her and it always put her on edge when it happened. Loki stepped out of the shadows still clapping and strolled over to her. He was in his full regalia. All black leather and gold. The only thing missing was his ridiculous helmet.

“Loki. You scared the shit out of me.” Sarah said, relaxing.

“I scared you? But look at what you can do. You have nothing to fear from the likes of me.” Loki crooned. He stepped up close to Sarah and she stood, looking up at him, not willing to let him intimidate her.

“What do you want, Loki?” Sarah asked.

“Nothing. You just seemed upset. You are much better than all of them. You are a goddess compared to all of those mortals.” Loki said.

He put his hand on her arm and Sarah burst out laughed and pushed him away from her. “I am one of those mortals, ya fricken idiot.”

Loki laughed. “Can you be so sure? Look at your father. He hasn’t aged much since I first saw him. Besides we have ways of extending life on Asgard.” He walked up behind her and put his hand on her waist. “Wouldn’t you like to rule. I think you were born for it. As I was.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Loki. I’m into girls. You’re really not my type.” Sarah said, pushing his hand away.

“Oh, I can accommodate that too.” He spun her to face him and his form shimmered and changed into that of a beautiful, pale-skinned woman, with dark green eyes and jet black hair that fell down to her waist in waves. “What do you think? Do you find this form more appealing.”

Sarah faltered for a moment. She’d never even been kissed before and here was Loki offering her the whole world. She did look stunning as a woman too. The fact she couldn’t hear the thoughts of Asgardians was also nice. It was the only time she could be around people and fully relax.

Sarah shook herself. “No, because you’re still like a million years older than me. That’s pretty fucked up Loki. I’m not even legal, ya creeper.”

“Well, I can wait,” Loki said. His form shimmered back to that of a man again and he pulled a flask from his pocket.

“You’ll be waiting a long time.”

“I have all the time in the world,” Loki said. He uncorked the flask and took a drink and then offered it to Sarah.

She took the flask hesitantly. “What is it?” She held the flask to her nose and inhaled. It smelled like honey, fruit, and hibiscus with a strong undercurrent of alcohol.

“Asgardian mead,” Loki said. He strolled away from her like he was now bored. Looking over the training equipment.

Sarah sniffed it and took a sip. It was sweet and heady and burned as she swallowed it. She started coughing.

“Can’t handle your drink, Sarah?” Loki asked. “I guess you are too young.”

Sarah prickled at his words. It was one thing for her to acknowledge she was too young for something, it was another thing to be told by someone else. She lifted the flask to her mouth again and took a few large gulps. She had barely even lowered the flask when the drink kicked in. Her vision swam and she started giggling.

“I really like this.” She slurred.

“By all means,” Loki said, waving towards her to continue drinking.

Sarah took another large gulp. The room started to spin and she staggered towards Loki holding out the flask. He took it and put his arm around her waist to steady her.

“You do look pretty as a girl, Loki.” She said.

“You weren’t tempted at all?” Loki asked.

Sarah started giggling. “Maybe a little bit. I’ve known you too long. That’s really creepy, dude.”

The door to the training room banged open and Steve stepped through. “There you are, Sarah.” He said. His eyes narrowed as he saw Loki with his arm around his daughter’s waist. Loki let her go, and she stumbled a little.

“Hello, daddy.” Sarah slurred, stumbling towards Steve and throwing her arms around him. “I’m sorry I yelled. I know you’re just trying to look after me.”

“Are you drunk?” Steve asked.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Sarah said.

“Loki. What have you done to her?” Steve growled. He straightened himself up to his full height, throwing his shoulders back.

“Calm down, soldier. She’s just had a little mead. I didn’t force it on her.” Loki said.

“She’s underage. You should know better.” Steve snapped.

Loki waved him off. “Simple misunderstanding. I am not fully averse of your Midgardian customs.”

Steve glared at Loki and then turned away from him, supporting Sarah back through the door. “What am I going to do with you?” Steve said as they walked back towards the living area of the compound. “Your father worked so hard on your cake.”

“I wanna eat my cake. What kind of cake is it? Daddy makes the best cakes.” Sarah giggled.

“He can not see you like this. Why would you drink something Loki gave you?” Steve asked.

“You keep acting like Loki is this big bad guy, but I’ve never known him as one. He’s just Thor’s brother.” Sarah said.

“He killed thousands of people, Sarah,” Steve said.

“So. You. Said. But he’s still always here. Don’t be mad at me, daddy.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed. You want me to trust you and then you do things like this.”

They stepped outside and Sarah looked around perplexed. “This isn’t the way to cake.”

“I’m hoping some fresh air might sober you up a bit so when your father sees you he won’t overreact. If you want to still go to that music festival with your friends, you might want to think about how much he’d be disappointed in you if he saw you like this.” Steve said.

Sarah’s face fell. “I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t you?”

“I did. I just wanted to try it. I’m sorry.” Sarah said. She couldn’t look him in the eye. This disappointed dad she got from Steve was far harder for her to deal with than the grounding that Bucky would most likely have given her.

Steve put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re young, Sarah. You’re allowed to make mistakes. That’s how you learn. It’s also why you aren’t ready to come out into the field as an Avenger.”

“Shit.” She mumbled, kicking the dirt at her feet.

Steve pulled her into a hug. They were interrupted by the screech of tires on asphalt. A red and gold Bugatti tore up the drive. It had a huge ribbon on the hood and flew straight towards Steve and Sarah before screeching to a halt in front of them. Tony jumped out of the car.

“Uncle Tony!” Sarah squealed, running to him and throwing herself into his arms.

“Happy birthday, princess,” Tony said, squeezing her. He held her out at arm’s length and then held out the keys to the car.

“Oh! My! God!” Sarah yelped, snatching the keys from his hand. She threw herself onto the hood of the car. “I love it!”

Steve shook his head. “This is too much, Tony. We can’t accept it.”

“Daddy, no!” Sarah cried. “I love it so much. Please, can I keep it?”

“Yeah, daddy,” Tony teased. “Please?”

Steve groaned and rubbed his hands down his face. “Fine.”

Sarah squealed and then ran for the driver’s seat. “Can I drive it?”

“I don’t think so, Sarah,” Steve said.

She pulled a face and climbed into the car, looking over all the features.

“Is she drunk?” Tony asked.

Steve nodded.

Tony threw back his head laughing. “You got one like me.” He clapped Steve on the shoulder. “How did it even happen? I thought she would be immune to alcohol.”

“Asgardian Mead. It’s going through her fast though. She’ll be sober soon.”

“Thor did this?” Tony asked.

Steve shook his head. “Loki.”

Tony’s eyes darkened. “Of course.”

A second car pulled up behind the Bugatti. This one a black Audi sedan. Pepper climbed out of the driver’s seat and their fourteen-year-old son Howard climbed out of the passenger seat. Howard took more after his mother. Tall, wiry and with bright red hair. He ran around to the passenger seat of the Bugatti and climbed in. Steve watched at the two teenagers started pressing random buttons on the car and laughing together. He smiled.

Pepper strolled over to the two men. “I’m so sorry, Steve. I told him not to.”

Steve greeted Pepper with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t be Tony if it wasn’t extravagant.”

Steve approached the car and tapped on the window. Sarah rolled it down and looked up at him.

“Come on, you. They’re all waiting.” He said.

// NEXT

[pokemonruby]

For the tag ask... Matthew. He is.... good. I love him. Give me the sweet sweet info. Pwease

of course! i love matthew so much, i could literally cry just thinking about him.

Full Name: Matthew Caelestis -- AKA “Prince Matthew”. Gender/Sexuality: Trans Male/BisexualPronouns: He/HimEthnicity/Species: Mixed (Black/White) + Nephilim (a demigod, essentially). Birthplace/Birthdate: He was born in the Capital City of the Kingdom of Elysia, which I’ve yet to come up with an actual name for since I’m... terrible at naming towns/cities, rip. His birthday is July 22nd (which he shares with his boyfriend, actually!) Guilty Pleasures: Matthew has quite the sweet tooth, believe it or not. Leo is the only person who’s aware of this, which means he is responsible for providing his boyfriend with delicious treats from the local bakeshop. Even if Matthew is embarrassed about this... childish affinity of his, he’ll happily accept anything that Leo presents him. Phobias: Well, I wouldn’t say that Matthew has a specific phobia. He’s just an exceptionally paranoid individual as a result of the premonitions received throughout the entirety of his life. After all, foreseeing the destruction of the world can leave a man terribly fearful of existence in general. I.E. Matthew’s bad habit of jumping at the slightest of sounds, or even his own shadow at times. Poor guy. What They Would Be Famous For: Well, you’d assume that Matthew’s prestige as a member of the royal family implied that he is famous to an extent. In actuality, it’s only the Emperor himself who’s made public appearances -- while his successors are only renowned by title... meaning that a disguise was unnecessary after Matthew’s betrayal of the empire. Considering that Matthew’s objective is supposed to be secretive, he’d be against the idea of making himself known to the populace... even if he is their prince. From Leo’s perspective, at least, he’s owned the legendary honor of being the “world’s best boyfriend”. What They Would Get Arrested For: Let’s not forget the fact that Matthew is a traitor to his people, though not in a bad sense. He simply wants to kick his dad’s ass because he’s a tyrant with little regard of the welfare of his kingdom ... and not to mention that he imprisoned Matthew, his SON, in the depths of hell. If it means he’ll be able to fulfill his sweet vengeance, Matthew doesn’t care at all about the repercussions for assassinating their king. OC You Ship Them With: Leo, of course! I mean, I’m not exaggerating when I say that they’re basically soulmates. Matthew has possessed feelings for him ever since they were children -- viewing Leo as his “hero”, his sole reason for fighting against this cruel world. His light. For the sake of that beautiful smile that he’s fallen in love with time, and time again -- Matthew would willingly challenge even the gods themselves. I could write an entire essay detailing their relationship but to spare you the cheesiness, I’ll just say that Leo and Matthew’s bond is stronger than fate itself.  OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Listen, Matthew hauled himself out of the deepest pit of Hell -- I don’t think he’d go down so easily. Nor do I think any person would ever have the guts to challenge him. Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Surprisingly, Matthew is quite fond of the romance genre -- and has ever since he was a child. I mean, he used to imagine himself as the “damsel in distress” and Leo as the “dashing hero”. Riding off into the sunset together on a horse of snow white.... To be fair, he was fourteen at the time so can you blame him for his strange fantasies? Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Toxic couples. That’s all I’m saying. Talents and/or Powers: Matthew is outclassed by his siblings when it comes to swordsmanship and basic combat; however, that isn’t to say that he’s helpless. His covenant with the Devil has enabled Matthew to wield unfathomable power (I.E. superhuman reflexes and strength) though at the cost of his weakening body each time he’s forced to rely on the Devil’s assistance. He is usually equipped with a rapier at his side, bequeathed on to him by his older brother, Luciano. He is also blessed (or rather, cursed) with prophetic abilities due to his divine ancestry. Why Someone Might Love Them: Matthew is the definition of a “tragic hero”, fighting a seemingly unwinnable battle for the sake of the world -- of the people he holds dear. Though, in exchange for his very soul that was devoured by the Devil to acquire power in this hopeless rebellion of his; Matthew is truly unconcerned with his own survival, thinking of himself as a mere stepping stone for a worthier hero (Leo, in this case) to triumph. Matthew... is a child that was forced to witness the harsh reality of the world from a young age. He went through “Hell” in the literal sense of the term, yet refused to yield against this cruel fate planned out by the gods. While he definitely has a plethora of flaws, it’s undeniable that Matthew is selfless -- perhaps too selfless for his own good.Why Someone Might Hate Them: Well, Matthew has a vigilante mindset in the sense that he'd effortlessly kill anyone if they failed to meet his quota of “justice”. In fact, you could say that he’s rather cold toward any person that do not consist of his sparse number of loved ones. It’s possible that Matthew’s resolve to save the world is only significant to him for their sake, rather than mere strangers. It’s not that Matthew is a coldhearted person, he’s just... more preoccupied with ascertaining a better future for those within his circle. Still, this could easily be viewed as “selfishness” -- or maybe, Matthew just doesn’t know how to care about others in the same significance that Leo does. How They Change: It’s because of Leo that he’s eventually able to overcome his self-doubt -- as he’s always viewed himself as a “stepping stone”, like I mentioned before. That his death was inconsequential in the long-run, but Matthew gradually accepts the love that not only Leo -- but many others bear for him. Despite his curse; despite his stature as nothing more than a monster wearing human skin. That he is worthy of the beautiful gift of life, and must fight for his own sake as well. Why You Love Them: Matthew has always been my favorite character to write for this story, ever since its original conception back in freshman year. He’s just... such a deep, complex character -- one who I’ve admittedly worked on the most as he is extremely important to the overall narrative, being the secondary protagonist and all. And in general I just adore Matthew to pieces; he’s my actual son and I feel bad for hurting him all the time when he deserves nothing but happiness and a thousand kisses from Leo. 

[thescrybe]

Renekton, The Butcher of The Sands

Renekton is a terrifying, rage-fueled Ascended being from the scorched deserts of Shurima. Once, he was his empire’s most esteemed warrior, leading the armies of Shurima to countless victories. However, after the empire’s fall, Renekton was entombed beneath the sands, and slowly, as the world turned and changed, he succumbed to insanity. Now free once more, he is utterly consumed with finding and killing his brother, Nasus, who he blames, in his madness, for the centuries he spent in darkness.

Renekton was born to fight. From a young age he was constantly getting into vicious brawls. He had no fear, and was able to hold his own against much older children. It was often pride that led to these confrontations, as Renekton was unable to back down, or let any insult pass. Every evening, he came home with cuts and fresh bruises, and while his more scholarly older brother, Nasus, disapproved of his street-fighting, Renekton relished it.

Nasus soon moved away, having been chosen to join the elite Collegium of the Sun, and in the years he was absent, Renekton’s skirmishes became increasingly serious. On a rare visit home, Nasus was horrified to see his bloodied young brother return home from yet another street fight. Fearing Renekton’s violent nature would see him imprisoned or in an early grave, Nasus helped him enlist in the Shuriman army. Officially, Renekton was too young for this duty, but his older brother’s influence smoothed away this detail.

The discipline and regimentation of the army was a blessing for Renekton. Within a few years, he rose to become one of Shurima’s most feared and capable war-captains, and he fought on the front line in numerous wars of conquest to expand the empire. He garnered a reputation for ferocity and toughness, but also for honor and bravery. Nasus became a decorated general, and the two of them served in a number of campaigns together, remaining very close despite their inherent differences and frequent disagreements. Nasus’s skill lay in strategy, logistics and history; Renekton’s lay in battle. Nasus planned the wars, and Renekton won them.

Renekton earned the title Gatekeeper of Shurima after fighting a desperate battle in one of the mountain passes bordering Shurima. An invading force had landed on the south coast, striking toward the isolated city of Zuretta. If it was not halted, the city was certain to be razed, and its populace massacred. Outnumbered ten to one, Renekton and a small contingent faced these aggressors, determined to buy time for the city to be evacuated. It was a battle that none expected Renekton to survive, let alone win. He held the pass for a day and a night, long enough for a relief force led by Nasus to arrive. With barely a handful of warriors left standing, none uninjured, Renekton was hailed a hero.

Renekton served on the frontlines for decades, and never lost a battle. His presence was inspiring to those fighting alongside him, and terrifying to his enemies. Victory after victory were his, and such was his reputation that some wars were won without a sword even being lifted, enemy nations surrendering as soon as they heard Renekton was marching on them.

Renekton was of middling years, a grizzled and battle-scarred veteran, when word reached him that his brother was close to death. He raced back to the capital to find Nasus a pale shadow of his former self, having been struck down by a debilitating wasting malady. The sickness was incurable, similar to the rotting curse said to have cut down an entire noble line in antiquity.

Nevertheless, Nasus’s greatness was recognized by one and all. As well as being a highly decorated general, he curated the great library of Shurima, and penned many of the finest literary works in the empire. The priesthood proclaimed it to be the sun’s will that he undertake the Ascension ritual.

The whole city gathered to witness the holy rite, but the tragic illness had taken a terrible toll, and Nasus no longer had the strength to scale the stairs to the Ascension dais. In the ultimate act of self-sacrifice and love, Renekton lifted his brother in his arms, and climbed the final steps, fully expecting to be obliterated in the process by the holy energies of the sun disc. He deemed his sacrifice a small thing to ensure that his brother would live on. He was just a warrior, after all, albeit a talented one, while his brother was a peerless scholar, thinker and general. Renekton knew that Shurima would need Nasus in the years to come.

Renekton was not destroyed, however. Beneath the blinding radiance of the sun disc, both brothers were raised up and remade. When the light faded, two mighty Ascended beings stood before the onlookers, Nasus in his lean, jackal-headed body, and Renekton in his immense, crocodilian form. Their forms seemed apt; the jackal was often regarded as the most clever and cunning of beasts, and the fearless aggression of the crocodile fit Renekton perfectly. Shurima gave thanks to have these new demigods as guardians of the empire.

Renekton had been a mighty war hero before, but now he was an Ascended being, blessed with power beyond mortal understanding. He was stronger and faster than any regular man, and seemed virtually immune to pain. Though Ascended beings were not immortal, their lifespans were dramatically increased, so that they might serve the empire for hundreds of years.

With Renekton at the head of the Shuriman armies, the empire’s military was all but unstoppable. He had always been a ruthless commander and ferocious fighter, but his new form gave him power beyond belief. He led the soldiers of Shurima to many bloody victories, neither giving nor expecting mercy. His legend spread far beyond the borders of the empire, and it was his enemies that gave him the name Butcher of the Sands, a title he embraced.

There were those, Nasus among them, who came to believe that a portion of Renekton’s humanity had been lost in his transformation. As the years progressed, he seemed to become crueler, relishing the spilling of blood more than was natural, and whispers circulated of atrocities he committed in the name of war. Nevertheless, he was a staunch defender of Shurima, and he faithfully served a succession of emperors, ensuring the security and greatness of Shurima for hundreds of years.

During the reign of the Emperor Azir, word arrived that a magical being of fire had escaped the magical sarcophagus that bound it in its underground prison. It had laid waste to a Shuriman town, before fleeing across the desert to the east. Renekton and his brother Nasus set forth to recapture this legendary foe. While they were absent, the young emperor, guided by the manipulations of his magus, Xerath, attempted to join their ranks and become one of the Ascended. The results were catastrophic.

Renekton and Nasus were a day’s ride from the capital, but even so, they felt the shockwave as the Ascension ritual went awry. Knowing that something terrible had come to pass, they raced back to find the glorious city in ruins. Azir had been killed, along with most of the city’s populace, and the great sun disc was falling, drained of all its power.  At the epicenter of the ruin, they encountered Xerath, now a being of pure, malevolent power.

The brothers sought to bind Xerath in the magical sarcophagus that had held the ancient being of fire. For a day and a night they battled, but the magus was powerful, and would not be held. He shattered the sarcophagus, and assailed them with spells fueled by the power of sun disc, which crashed to the ground as they fought.

Knowing that they could not destroy Xerath, Renekton finally wrestled him into the depthless Tomb of the Emperors, and bade his brother seal them inside forever. Knowing there was no other way to stop Xerath, Nasus reluctantly did as his brother ordered. As Renekton and Xerath fell into darkness, Nasus sealed the tomb for all eternity.

In the darkness, Xerath and Renekton continued their battle. For uncounted years they fought, as the once-great civilization of Shurima collapsed to dust in the world above. Xerath whispered poison in Renekton’s ear, and gradually, as the centuries rolled on, his viperous words and the ever-present darkness took its toll. The magus implanted the notion in Renekton’s mind that Nasus had sealed him in on purpose, jealous of his success, and unwilling to share his Ascension.

Piece by piece, Renekton’s sanity cracked. Xerath drove a wedge into these cracks, corrupting his mind and twisting his perception of what was real and what was imagined.

Thousands of years later, the Tomb of the Emperors was opened by the mercenary Sivir, freeing Renekton and Xerath. Renekton roared his fury and thundered out into the Shuriman desert, sniffing the air for the scent of his brother.

Renekton now roams the deserts, seeking the death of Nasus, the traitor he believes left him to die. His grip on reality is tenuous at best, and while there are moments when he resembles the proud, honorable hero of the past, much of the time he is little more than a devolved hate-maddened beast, driven on by the thirst for blood and vengeance.

[hadesrebelofadaughter]

Demons and Deals

Jess shut and locked the front door behind her, walking down the front steps before vaulting over the fence gate. Landing silently on the footpath outside her house. She paused, keeping an eye on the windows in her bedroom just in case a light switched on. She only relaxed when after a moment or two the room stayed dark.

She started walking, tracing the now familiar path in her mind. A friend of hers had asked her to meet up, something about not doing it alone. Words her and her friend seemed to hear often. She had of course accepted and had been walking to and from the agreed meeting place every day just so she didn’t get lost.

It was a small hidden away area near the river, a smaller trek for her than her friend who had to sneak out of an old Church building and ride some buses to get there. Jess had tried to point out that she could just come and pick her up but her friend had argued heavily against it.

She’d stopped trying that morning.

She let her thoughts wander, going from subject to subject in her mind before stopping on wondering why she’d moved from New York to New Jersey in the first place. She loved her house, it had a big backyard for the dogs to play in, she had a good set up there in the makeshift library and the room she’d converted into a basic training room. She was glad Deion had found it for her. . .she was still playing him back in small gifts and favours since he’d insisted on her not paying him back.

She was trying to be sneaky about it and she was sure he knew, he’d just probably given up trying to talk her out of it.

She guessed moving had been more of a ‘getting away from my family and the asshole’ thing than anything else. She loved New York City and she might move back sometime but back when she’d first moved, she hadn’t been bothered. Her mother and brother hadn’t been able to find her and neither had Thomas.

Now-a-days she had the occasional supernatural variety of people drop by every so often, not often enough to be annoying but often enough that she was beginning to think of charging money to help them out. Not that she ever actually would, she liked helping people. . .if she was ever pulled into killing another fire serpent in the next 5 years however it would be much too soon. Those things were a pain in the ass.

She only broke out of her thoughts when the pavement turned to gravel underneath her feet and she focused on sneaking through the shadows to the meeting spot. She glanced around when she got there and spotting no one, plonked herself down onto the ground and wrapped shadows around her. Patiently beginning to wait.

She ended up waiting half an hour longer than she’d originally thought before she heard a soft annoyed mutter in an unknown language and turned her head just in time to see the familiar tall shape of her friend.

Variel was a dark skinned woman, she had silver and black marks-runes Jess mentally corrected-all over her body and her dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. She had mixed features and even though they’d known each other for years, Jess still wasn’t quite sure what her background was and hadn’t bothered to ask. The only thing that stood out as strange was the large sack Variel was carrying over her shoulder.

“Are you summoning something that’s going to be hungry or do we need that much stuff just to summon the damn thing?” Jess asked, standing up from her spot. The shadows slipping back into their natural positions.

Variel seemed unsurprised to see her and just dropped the sack onto the ground, stretching and wincing slightly as she rubbed her shoulder.

“We’re summoning something that might just be hungry, we’re meant to look like idiots but I figured even idiots might bring it something to eat” She answered and Jess sighed softly, nodding.

“Alright, demons are your area of expertise oh shadowhuntery one” Jess said and she just grinned at the look Vari sent her. They spent the next hour preparing everything, Variel handled the rune writing and glamour while Jess handled the circle drawing and the lighting. Once they were done, Jess stood and brushed the chalk off her hands. Dropping the chalk itself into the hand Variel held out towards her and watched it disappear into a plastic bag and watched that vanish into Variel’s jacket. “Alright so, what do we do now?”

“We do the hard part, let me do the talking. Only pop in if you notice something with its wording, you’ve worked with fae before. You’ll noticed something I won’t” Variel said and Jess nodded before gesturing for her to start.

Both stepped into the outer circle, one of either side of it. Variel only gave Jess a look before she started talking. The language Jess had heard her speak earlier when she’d arrived was strange but this? This was weirder, it seemed heavier, older. Much older than the ancient greek Jess could speak. She vaguely remembered Variel telling her about the various demonic languages and guessed this was one of them.

The candles flared before the flames turned purple, a purpleish glow began in the inner circle and there was a dark flash of heat that smelled heavily of sulphur before standing there was a tall grotesque looking demon. It was taller than both girls combined and it was large, rotund even. It had rolls of fat and muscle and looked strong enough to punch a building down. It had thick green viscous liquid rolling down it’s dark body and onto the ground where it burnt off with a hiss of steam, a low growl came from its mouth and Jess was suddenly glad she wasn’t standing in front of it.

‘Why have you summoned me here? Make it quick and worth my time and maybe I won’t end your pathetic lives’ Jess heard a voice snarl out of her head and she forced herself to calm down.

“If you are hungry then have this” Variel said, a slight quiver in her voice as she kicked the sack towards it. A thick hand grabbed it and it threw its head back, Jess catching a look at its 10 eyes and large gaping toothless maw before the sack disappeared into its mouth and it straightened, looking forward again as it swallowed. “We want to make a deal, a deal for knowledge.”

‘And what would I get in return?’ the voice asked

“What would you think is fair?” Variel asked, Jess cringing behind the demon. She knew they were acting stupid to make this thing think it could outsmart them but you never asked a demon what it thought was fair in return for a deal. You went in with a plan. Even she knew that.

‘It depends, what would two children like yourselves ask for? What knowledge are you seeking?’ It asked

“What else would we want but eternal life?” Variel asked and the chuckle that sounded inside her head made Jess shudder and wrap her arms around her. Hook, line and sinker.

‘You humans always want the same things, powers, wealth, eternal life. I have had three deals this week alone for those very things.’ It said and Jess silently prayed that Variel had managed to keep her reaction to this off her face. It seemed they had to correct demon after all. ‘I will give you the choice that I gave them. I will give you eternal life if right here, right now if-‘

It cut off in Jess’s head and she pretended to act confused, she walked sideways a little bit to see Variel and shot her a confused look. Variel’s attention was solely on the demon. Jess could tell the demon had told the shadowhunter what she’d wanted to know when the glamour from Variel’s eyes faded from blue to her natural cat eyes. The runes underneath the demon began to glow and it let out an unholy screech.

“You really should have been more careful who you turned, maybe you would have gotten away with this” Variel said as chains lashed out from where Jess had been burying them the past few visits, wrapping around the demon as Jess drew her sword. Dark hellfire coated the blade, obscuring the metal’s natural glow. Variel drew her seraph blades and whispered two names under her breath, the blades springing to light with a heavenly glow and both attacked.

Soon the demon was nothing but ash on the ground and Jess had its soul in her sword. She let the sword turn back into a hair clip and clipped her hair back. Walking over to her friend as the other sat on the ground outside the circles, cleaning her swords.

“So I’d say that went well? Did you manage to catch the name of the warlock that was summoning it for people?” Jess asked and Variel nodded, letting out a quiet sigh.

“I did, I’ll let my dad know so him and Papa can handle it. I say I’m probably going to be grounded or put on training only duty for a while after this” She said and Jess gently patted her shoulder

“At least you didn’t do it alone, I’d be happy to make the trip back to the institute with you if it’ll make everyone feel better about things” Jess offered and Variel just shook her head

“It’s alright, thank you for offering J but I think having you there might just put them on edge. Really don’t want anyone trying to find Camp Half-Blood because they think demigods are dangerous and need to be handled or something” She said and Jess let out a nervous laugh

“Let’s hope it never comes to that” She said before helping Variel stand, the two went about cleaning up and shared a tight hug before Variel created a portal close to the institute. Jess waving bye until the portal shut and she was left standing there alone.

She checked the time on her phone and cringed, she wasn’t sure how she was going to explain how tired she was when her 7am alarm woke her up in 3 hours but she’d come up with something. . .hopefully.

She shadow traveled home and stealthy got changed back into her pjs, putting the weapons away before she crawled into bed. Closing her eyes and soon falling asleep.