#hera’s heroes who were born a week apart?
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i have a personal headcanon that aphrodite actually shipped leo and jason and had plans for them but that hera got in the way of them by forcing jason and piper together. she wanted to dissuade them from being together, since she had very different plans for them and their love lives. so, she tried to be supportive of their relationship, hoping reverse psychology would work and piper wouldn’t want to continue the relationship after her absent mother that she hated approved of them. it didn’t work and she had to watch silently as another case of love and tragedy play out. she watched as her daughter dealt with the loss of her best friends and wondered if she could’ve done something more to stop it from happening or if this was meant to happen from the start and she was another pawn of fate
#pjo#jason grace#piper mclean#valgrace#she would see their potential i just know it#hera’s heroes who were born a week apart?#one greek and one roman?#have pasts that are so similar yet different?#eventually both involved involved with a prophecy?#all over that#she’d be distraught that they end in tragedy#me too girl me too
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aaa hii! i was wondering if you could do the hercules au, please? thank youuu 💕
Hello, friends! This is an AU based off of @racetrackhigg original Mood Boards that you can find right here!
Hercules AU
Characters
Spot Conlon — Hercules
Racetrack Higgins — Megara
Jack Kelly — Phil
William Snyder — Hades
Morris Delancey and Oscar Delancey — Pain and Panic
Also, DeMarius Copes is all of the Muses. He just is.
So…
We are basing this off of the Disney rendition of Hercules, for the most part, even though their telling of this tale is very much modified for younger viewers. I mean, who are they kidding? The Greek Gods aren’t the loving, family friendly types that Disney tried to trick us into thinking they were when we were children, but it’s fine. We’re gonna roll with this, maybe change a little bit of it. And it is going to take place in modern day (excluding quarantine, because in fantasy worlds, worldwide quarantines don’t exist) because, why the heck not?
Back when the world was new, the planet earth was down on its luck. Chaos reigned and earthquakes and volcanoes ran amok. But then along came Zeus.
Ya’ll know the song.
There’s a party on Olympus, one of great importance. A son has been born to Zeus and Hera. A son they’ve named Hercules. Every single God shows up to celebrate the child’s birth and congratulate the ruling couple of Olympus who is adored by all but one; Zeus’s brother Hades.
Despite typically never leaving his kingdom, Hades has made a special exception on this joyous occasion to meet his new nephew, a new golden boy who is showered in gold and glitter already, although only having been born the day before. Zeus had even fashioned the child his very own flying horse, which he calls a Pegasus. Everyone adores the child and Hades dismisses him, looking disgusted at his very existence.
See, Hades knew something that the other gods didn’t. Hades just so happens to be great friends with the fates. He had a meeting with them prior to this celebration he had never intended on going to. The sisters explained to him that the great plan he’d been wielding could be successful, that one day the planets would align, making way for his rule over Olympus and then Earth. There was only one problem.
Hercules.
That fateful day when those planets aligned would be eighteen years from that very night. Hercules’s eighteenth birthday. And on that day, should Hercules fight, Hercules would win.
Hades saw only one solution. If there was no Hercules, there was no fight.
On Olympus, Hades has all eyes on, giving his two right hand men the opportunity to hide on the great mountain and wait out until nightfall where they would steal the child and force him to drink a potion that would make him mortal.
That night, chaos erupts among the Gods and Zeus cries, sending a storm down onto Earth as Hades men carry out his plan, taking the baby down to the land below and forcing the potion down his throat, knowing that he must drink every last drop to become truly mortal so that they can kill him.
Unfortunately for them, a young couple comes running when they hear a baby cry. The two henchmen drop the potion before the child can finish it and shapeshift into snakes before going to bite the kid and kill him. Having not drunk the whole potion, however, Hercules held onto the strength he’d been born with and was able to protect himself from the two monsters, sending them slithering back to their master.
He then gets taken in by the couple who’d been praying for a baby that they were unable to have. They claim him as their own and name him Sean. Sean Conlon.
The occupants of Mt. Olympus are crushed at the news of their prince becoming mortal. Still, they carried on, watching as their Hercules was raised from afar in a city that never slept, one he grew up to adore. Brooklyn, New York.
Growing up for young Sean, however, was anything but easy. With a physical strength he couldn’t begin to understand or control, he seemed to make a mess anywhere he went. People were wary of him. Kids his own age didn’t like him and he so he didn’t like them. He closed himself off from the world and hid himself away, only entrusting his parents with the fear that he didn’t belong there, that he was too different. It was beginning to get to the point that people were truly frightened of him and his abilities.
Sean didn’t have any friends. He didn’t have a phone. He didn’t need one. He didn’t have anyone to talk to. Girls would sometimes get flustered when they saw him because of the muscles he seemed to get from nowhere, but the second they realized he was the freak he was, they ran the other way. Sean didn’t mind. He could never look at the girls the way the first looked at him.
Eventually, while accompanying his father downtown, he destroys an entire building. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him. So his parents finally came clean. They admit to him for the first time how they found him, how he was all alone and already had these abilities that they didn’t understand. He asks them why they never told him and they don’t have an answer. They can only offer him a small necklace that had been around his neck when they’d stumbled upon him, one written in Ancient Greek. One that Sean can read, having never read Greek in his life.
It says Hercules.
Running off, feeling scared and alone and so confused, Sean finds himself wandering into the woods where he is met by a man wearing a white suit with a golden tie. The man claims to be Zeus, his father.
Initially laughing at this, Sean tries to leave, but is pulled back by an invisible force as Zeus takes him in, studying his face for the first time in nearly eighteen years. He looks happy to see him and tells Sean what happened, how he had been stolen from his home and in order to return, needed to prove himself to the gods. Sean is still a bit skeptical until Zeus whistles for a horse to come out of the shadows.
It isn’t until Sean sees Pegasus that he thinks there might be some truth to this man’s story. All his life he’d been obsessed with what he’d thought was a mythical creature. He’d made drawings of it, studied their mythology, had even learned to ride horses when he was young.
Pegasus missed him.
While reuniting with his old friend, Zeus tells Sean of a man he needs to meet in order to ensure his return to Olympus, where he belongs. He described the man as the son of a demigod, one who trains heroes and teaches them how to hone their skills and use them for the greater good. So Sean takes Pegasus up into the air, going to seek out this man, Jack Kelly.
When he manages to find the man’s apartment with Zeus’s help, he lands Pegasus down on the roof and knocks on the man’s apartment door.
The man is less than willing to open it up for him.
Jack tells him to go away, obviously not much of a people person. But Sean persists, finally calling out that he needs help and that Jack was the only one who’d be able to do such a thing.
Recognizing this desperate plea, Jack reluctantly opens up the door, asking what Sean wanted. To Sean’s surprise, the man is very young, probably only five years older than himself. When Sean admits he needs someone to teach him how to be a hero, Jack tells him that he’s closed for business and would never reopen.
That’s when Sean begs him for help, claiming to be the son of Zeus. He explains that he never fit in on Earth and needs Jack’s help to make it to Olympus. Jack has the same reaction Sean had to the news. He laughs, not believing it. Not until he hears lightning crackle outside.
With no other choice than to believe him, Jack tells Sean that he’s not the first kid that had come knocking on his door. Jack explains, while painting a picture of a girl that lives in the apartment across from him that he’s fallen madly in love with despite never having spoken to her, that his father assigned him with the task of training new heroes and keeping them safe on their quests and adventures, something Jack loathed greatly as he wished to have his own life and go on adventures. However, after one hero in training had been reckless and stupid, a demigod, son of Ares, he’d died, making his father angry.
Jack had been cursed after that day. He can’t die. He can’t age. Most people would consider immortality a blessing, but Jack explains that it’s not a blessing when he’s been trapped in New York City, unable to leave as there were invisible barriers specially catered to keep him inside. He’d always dreamed of running away and seeing the world, and it was as though that dream was being dangled right in front of him, just out of his reach. He’d been stuck in an endless cycle of nothingness for years and he didn’t want it to get worse. But Sean makes Jack a deal. If he were to train him, he’d ask his father to lift Jack’s curse and allow him to continue aging and growing like normal while also being able to see the world.
So Jack agrees, still skeptical, but slightly hopeful. He tells Sean that they would begin the next night in the woods where Sean had met Zeus and he better not screw this up for either of them.
To Jack’s surprise, Sean is a much better hero than he’d originally thought. He admires the boy’s strength and endurance and constantly tries to push Sean to his limits to see how much he can take. He never found a breaking point. He teaches Sean how to use a sword as well as a gun, he trains him mentally and physically for every situation he can. He explains that his own strong suit is knife throwing and archery. Sean begins to look up to Jack and treat him more as a friend than anything else. He likes Jack. Jack is the first person who didn’t go running the second he’d walked into a room.
So after weeks of training and testing, Jack tells Sean it’s time for the real deal. They’re gonna go see what Sean can do in the real world to help real people. Sean asks how they’re gonna do that and Jack replies with “Have you eva’ walked around New York?”
They begin to explore, trying to find any kind of trouble they can until they stumble onto an alley where a young man, about Sean’s age, is struggling to get away from an older guy who’s literally pinning the kid to the wall. Jack tries to help Sean come up with some kind of plan before Sean just runs off, leading Jack to resign himself to the fact that he’s doomed and his curse will never be lifted.
Sean goes in and demands the man get off only to find that when the man turns around, he’s got three eyes and a snake's tongue. Sean pulls out a knife only for the kid to tell him that he can handle himself, calling Sean “Wonder Boy” before the monster in front of him throws him to the ground and punches Sean in the stomach, sending him flying back into a wall. Jack can only watch from afar, not allowed to help any hero in his battle.
The monster turns back to the boy who tries to scramble away. It is clear to Sean that the monster is trying to take advantage of the kid sexually. So he steps back up, plunging his knife into the monster’s back before picking him up and throwing him into the opposite wall. He then scoops the boy up into his arms and rushes him over to Jack.
Jack immediately tries to check the kid over to make sure he’s okay, but the boy just seems mildly annoyed, making sarcastic comments about how The Incredible Hulk over there just saved a damsel in distress while he watches Sean fight the monster with the hell of Pegasus who helps him kill the thing.
Realizing that this other boy was genuinely concerned for him, the blond kid softens just a little as Sean walks back over to him. He introduces himself as Antonio, or Race as his friends call him. At least they would, if he had any. He calls Sean a variety of flirtatious names as he thanks him, including “Spot” because of Sean’s freckles. Spot introduces himself as Sean Conlon, or Hercules as he’d been named by his godly father. He offers Race a ride to anywhere he wants to go on Pegasus, but Race refuses, admitting that he’s terrified of heights and is a big boy that can take care of himself, but still thanks Spot for coming to his rescue.
Sean falls a little bit for him much too quickly and much too easily before Race gives him a wink and a wave and walks off, seemingly fine.
Jack then tells Sean how stupid he is before leading him off further into the night and forcing Sean to listen to him even though the boy’s mind clearly kept drifting off to the mysterious stranger he’d just met.
Meanwhile, Race is off to the woods where he is met by two young men he refers to as Morris and Oscar and Hades himself, who is wearing a grey suit and a blood red tie. Morris and Oscar force Race to bow to the god after the boy initially doesn’t. Race fights all the way until Hades snaps his fingers and forces him to submit, having full control of the boy’s body anytime he wants it.
The king of the underworld asks Race why he doesn’t have the monster that he had requested an audience with by his side and Race explains that the monster made him an offer he had to refuse. Hades takes the boy by the chin. He loves to manhandle Race whenever he can, reveling in the fact that the kid would fight back against his hold only to have nowhere else to go. He tells Race that instead of removing two years from his sentence, he’ll be adding two on. In attempts to save himself, the kid blames the stranger who’d saved him, calling him Hercules.
Morris and Oscar, the shapeshifters originally responsible for the murder of Hercules, pale at this as their master burns with rage. Hades demands to know what happened after his servants lied to him only to turn to Race and tell him that he still had use for him. Race rolls his eyes, still defiant after nearly three years. Still, he has no choice but to do as he’s told.
A couple of days after rescuing Race from the ally, Spot and Jack are once again exploring the city, trying to find more trial runs for Sean, who Jack has taken to calling “Spot” to tease him. Spot’s doing rather well, especially considering he hadn’t died yet. So Jack is ready to start getting him attention before they hear a commotion in front of them.
Race rushes towards them, near in hysterics. He is relieved at the sight of Spot and begins begging him for help, stating that two little kids got trapped under a collapsed overpass. Without even waiting for Jack’s help, he whistles for Pegasus who reveals himself to the world in broad daylight and Race hesitates, still terrified of heights, but Spot grabs him and puts him on the back of the flying horse, asking him where to go. Race clings to him as he screams out street names.
Jack is understandably annoyed at being left behind and is forced to run in order to meet them at their destination.
Meanwhile, Spot lands Pegasus and Race crumbles to the ground, nearly vomiting as his entire body is trembling from being up so high.
Spot manages to get two small children to safety and does not stop them as they run off, unbeknownst to him, right to Hades.
Race crawls over to a nearby wall to support himself as he catches his breath and silently prays for Spot to get out of there while he still can.
A crowd gathers nearby, applauding Spot as they’ve just witnessed his heroism. Jack runs up to find Spot unsure of what to do. Before Jack can help him a hiss falls over the crowd. He pales before trying to scream at Spot to get out of the way, but the minute he reaches for Spot’s sword, his hand is burned. He’s not allowed to help.
So Spot grabs his own sword, turning around to find a monster rising from the fallen overpass. Jack recognizes it as a Hydra. Spot just starts swinging at it. After cutting off one head, he believes the fight to be over only for the thing to grow back with two other heads at its sides.
Race can do nothing but watch as Spot is nearly beaten and eaten alive by this monster he’d lured him to. He is horrified at himself, finding that he actually likes Spot. The guy is sweet and loyal, but Race knows he can’t fall for him. He knows he can’t.
Spot continues cutting the Hydra’s heads, even as Jack yells at him to stop.
Hades is watching from afar with a grin on his face. He is ready for the Hydra to kill the only thing standing between him and his eternal rule, but Spot manages to burn the monster alive, effectively killing it.
Race is relieved at that and barely manages to hide a smile as he saunters back up to Hades who is furious at the turn of events.
After this, Spot is made famous throughout the world, having been on camera whilst fighting the Hydra. He is asked for interviews, he’s given money, he’s made a hero in the eyes of the public.
This goes on for months.
Spot revels in the light of being the main attraction after being an outcast for so long. Jack is annoyed with him, but sticks by his side as his own life depends on it. Eventually, Jack just starts to roll along with it all as it becomes more and more stressful for Spot to keep up with his own fame as he continues his training and continues fighting monsters. It becomes abundantly clear to Jack how protective he’s becoming over the younger boy and he doesn’t like it, so he gets harder on Spot and pushes him further, only tiring Spot out faster.
Race watches every minute of it, finding himself enthralled by the man who’d saved him all those nights ago.
Hades, however, is not happy in the least. His two servants have given up and his slave is falling for the boy who would be his undoing. Race teases him smugly, telling him that he might as well accept defeat. This just makes the god even more angry. So Hades orders Race to find him a weakness. Race laughs at him.
So Hades reminds him why he’s there in the first place. He retells the boy the story of a child, a merely fourteen years old runaway who’d fallen in love with another, three years older than him. When the elder boy had tried to prove himself to the gods, he’d gotten fatally wounded and Hades had come to collect him. Unable to cope with the loss of his love, the child who knew nothing about the gods or love, for that matter, begged and pleaded for the god of death to take him instead. The god accepted, letting the not-so-heroic-hero live in exchange for the other boy’s soul for the next hundred years. Finding out what the young child had done, the resurrected hero ran off, finding another to worship the ground he walked on while the boy who’d given everything to save him rotten in possession of Hades, the cruelest god there was.
Race insists that he remembers and that he’d learned his lesson and would not be making the same mistake twice. So Hades hands Race a cellphone with a picture of Spot on it and explains to him as though he were a child that all he needed was to know what Spot’s weakness was. Race does not respond. So Hades leans in close to his ear and promises Race the one thing he craved above all else in exchange for this simple task.
His freedom.
Race drops the phone at the words, having never expected to hear them outloud. So he does as he’s told.
Back with Spot and Jack, Jack is trying to work out Spot’s schedule while Spot wallows alone in his mansion after speaking to his father in the forest again. His father tells him that he has not yet proved himself worthy and must still remain on earth.
Breaking into the giant house, Race finds Spot who is relieved to see him after so long. He asks Spot if he wants to get out of here. Spot is hesitant, because he’s supposed to meet with Jack for training, but Race convinces him to take a night off and run away with him.
And Spot can’t say no.
Exploring the city, Race flirts with Spot and Spot is the perfect gentleman, only making life so much harder for Race who wishes that this boy could’ve just been a jerk who deserved all of this. Spot buys him flowers and makes him laugh and makes him feel free for the first time in years.
While they’re walking, Race accidentally trips, falling right into Spot’s arms. Spot carries him to a bench to inspect Race’s ankle even though the other boy insists that he’s fine. He explains that he has weak ankles and flirtatiously inquires if Spot has any to which Spot replies he doesn’t think he does and he scoops Racer up again, putting him back on his feet to make sure Race is okay. They dance beneath the stars for a long moment before Jack flies overhead on Pegasus and jumps down in between them.
He screams at Spot and tells him he’ll be training like hell for the next week and he warns Race to stay away, feeling bad about it later as there’s something in Race’s eyes that tells him this was not the whole story.
Spot gives Race a kiss goodnight and leaves and Jack goes to follow him before feeling too guilty and turning back to apologize. And he accidentally hears a conversation he was not meant to hear.
When Race is alone, he has a sinking feeling in his chest and feels as though he’s floating on air all at once. He knows he has fallen for this new hero and he stares at the flowers Spot gave him before he is forced to stand by the air around him and he looks up to find his master waiting in front of him.
Race tells the god that he quits, that he won’t keep doing this. Hades only laughs and cruelly reminds the boy that he owns his mind, soul and body and Race has no choice in the matter. The boy tried to explain that Spot doesn’t have any weaknesses. He says it proudly, blushing as he twirls the flowers around in his hand.
That’s when it hits Hades. He smugly tells Race that he is sorely mistaken and snaps his finger, vanishing right along with the boy.
Having only heard a small piece of the conversation, Jack rushes to warn Spot who calls him a liar and a jealous, ungrateful loser who will never be able to talk to the girl that he’s in love with. Hurt by this, Jack leaves, knowing he’s not wanted or needed anymore. It shouldn’t matter to him what happened next.
Spot goes outside to train, trying to blow off some steam, knowing he needs to apologize to Jack but not fully knowing how to.
There’s a man waiting outside. One that Spot recognizes.
The man’s name is William Snyder, a business man who’d been around town for the past couple of months. Spot had no idea that Snyder was a god, just like him. Hades, to be clear.
Hades begins talking to Spot about his heroism and strength and says he wants to offer him a deal. Spot initially refuses, trying to walk away only for Hades to reveal that he has leverage. With a snap of his fingers, a stunned and scared looking Race appears right in front of him. Race tries to run to him, trying to tell him not to listen to this man, but Hades waves his hand and Race goes silent, chains wrapping around his body and mouth immediately, rendering him helpless.
Hades then snaps Race to him and manhandles him, trying to enrage Spot even more. He tells Spot that if he doesn’t want to hear the deal, he’ll just take Race and keep him like that forever, claiming he likes Race in chains better than anything else. So Spot agrees to hear Hades out, all the while asking him to let Race go.
Hades grins and tells Spot to consider giving up his strength for a day, the next day, in order to save Race. Spot asks if people are going to get hurt in which Snyder simply smiles. So Spot asks that Race be left out of it. Hades gives his word that no harm will come to Race should Spot accept.
So Spot accepts, shaking the gods hand to finalize it and falling to his knees as his strength is drained from him.
For a moment, Race is left in chains as Hades has his fun knocking around the mighty Hercules. But Spot croaks out that he has to let the boy go, to which the god laughs. He complies, saying to Race that a deal was a deal and that he was now free of his sentence before he draws Race to him and gloats to Spot about what a wonderful little actor the boy was.
Race struggles against him, trying to get away and explain, but Spot just walks away, heartbroken.
Though his strength is gone, Spot still feels obligated to fight against whatever attack was headed for them. He goes on his own to the center of the city where the titans have begun to roam free after Hades released them. Though the crowd cheers at his arrival it is quickly made apparent that he is no match for these monsters and he will not win this fight.
After trying and failing to stop Spot from fighting, Race rushes off to find Pegasus. His legs are already shaking in fear just looking at the thing that had been bound by Hades before. He releases it and Pegasus senses that something is wrong, so he allows Race to climb onto his back. Race screams when they take to the air.
Finding Jack wandering around, oblivious to the takeover happening behind him, Race begs him for help. Jack initially refuses, revealing to the boy that he knew who Race worked for. Race quickly explains the situation to Jack and Jack takes the reins, flying out to find a passed out Spot in the middle of the chaos. He ignores the burning of his arms and scoops Spot up, flying him to safety so Race can plead with him to wake up.
When Spot does eventually wake up, he scrambles away from Race only for Jack to tell him that this wasn’t Race's fault and he still needed to fight. They couldn’t let Hades win. So Spot goes out to fight again only to get knocked down in front of a car speeding to get away. Race panics and rushes to push him out of the way, taking the hit instead nearly getting stomped on by the titan Before Spot screams and rushes to his rescue, catching the Titan’s foot before it can kill Race.
Jack rushes in to get Race out of the danger and Race lets him, curling into him in pain.
Not understanding what happened, Spot rushes to the boy he quite possibly loves who explains to him that Hades promised he wouldn’t get hurt and he had. The deal had been broken.
Hesitant to leave Race, Spot looks to Jack for help. Jack promises to stay with Race while Spot rushes off and fights.
That’s when Race starts crying. It’s the first time he shows weakness in front of Jack and Jack can’t help but cry along with him, trying to promise him that everything’s gonna be okay even though they both know it won’t. As he starts coughing up blood, Race begs Jack not to let him die alone and Jack holds his hand and pets his hair back, promising him that he’d be right there the whole time.
Race is scared when he dies. His cries about not being able to breathe and can’t move without being in pain. It’s the most heartbreaking thing Jack had ever witnessed. When Race takes his last breath, Jack presses a kiss to his forehead and closes the boy's eyes for him, hugging him to his chest and telling him how sorry he was.
Flying up to Olympus with Pegasus, Spot frees the gods who are being held captive by the Titans and helps them trap the monsters once again before flying after Hades who tries to get away. It’s only when Spot remembers Race that he stops, rushing back down to earth where he finds Jack crying over Race’s body.
So Spot does what he has to do, even as Jack begs him to come back. He flies down to the underworld (how he knows where to go? I don’t know… but he does. Maybe he walked a long way, around the back. That ain’t easy walkin’, Jack. It ain’t for the sensitive of souls— oh wait…) and demands that Hades tell him where Race’s soul is.
Still smug and arrogant as ever, Hades reveals Race’s soul in the River Styx and tells Spot that he is more than willing to let Spot dive down for him. It’s only after Spot does so that Hades calls after him any mortal to enter the river will die.
Spot swims down for Race’s lifeless soul. It breaks his heart to see the boy so lifeless. As he reaches for him, a power surges through his body, making it easier to move and breathe. He pulls Race to him and holds him in his arms, stepping out of that river as a god with the love of his life in his arms. When Hades goes to stop him, Spot punches him down and walks out with Race’s souls, climbing onto Pegasus again and flying back to New York, where Jack still sat with an unmoving Race on the sidewalk. Everyone else was so busy with their own concerns, no one paid them a second glance.
Returning his soul to his body, Spot waits patiently and Jack watches with so much hope in his eyes it hurts. But then there’s a glorious sound of someone taking in a gulp of air.
Race opens his eyes.
He launches himself at Spot who holds him tightly in response and Jack laughs in relief at the sight, letting Race hug him too before Spot confesses he has to go. Race refuses to let him go so Spot takes him along, flying back up to Olympus where he is greeted as a god and Race is left standing awkwardly all alone at the gates, proud of the other boy, but sad that he may never see him again.
But Spot kneels before his father, asking to be blessed with mortality so that he can live his life with Race and Jack. He asks that his father lift Jack’s curse and allow them to live in peace because he finally found where he belonged.
Zeus, although a bit sad, agrees, and sends Spot and Race back to Earth where they meet Jack and take him to the border of New York to show him he is no longer cursed.
Race and Spot and Jack are friends for the rest of their lives. Spot reconnects with his adoptive parents. Race and Spot get married. Jack finally meets the girl he’d fallen for and marries her.
And they all live happily ever after.
Thanks for reading!
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#racetrackhigg#newsies#newsies live#newsies musical#newsies au#newsies rp#hercules#modern day hercules#modern era#modern au#spot conlon#jack kelly#racetrack higgins#warden snyder#oscar delancey#morris delancey#katherine plumber#hades#zeus#hera#sprace#angst#much love#shapeshifters#demigods#greek mythology#greek gods#gods#adoption#william snyder
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TBM fic (I know, what, already?)
I told you I needed to write angst. See, I read That Chapter in TBM and went to church and it was ripping up my heart the whole time and I basically wrote on my phone the entire walk home. And goodbye rest of my day because all I could do was this. Spoilers for TBM.
Sister of the Hero | Summary. Thalia gets some bad news. | 1500-ish words
(Or basically, I try and cope with the character death in TBM. Pure plotless angst.)
Her first hint that something is wrong is when Artemis shows up.
This wouldn't have been a big deal back when the goddess of the Hunt actually, you know, hunted regularly with her pack. But ever since things went pear-shaped with that Greek-Roman schism, the gods haven't exactly been flocking down to say hi. Thalia's been pretty much running the show for three years now.
It's who Artemis shows up with as well—the satyr looks hardly a day older than when Thalia last saw him at the Battle of Manhattan (well, fine, she looks exactly the same, too, but in Grover's case, it's less halted ageing and more satyrs age incredibly slowly).
Last she heard, Grover was summoned to guide Apollo and Meg through the Labyrinth in search of the third crazy emperor bent on taking over the world. The fact that he's here now, having clearly gone out of his way to find her (not to mention he's in the company of Artemis and not a blush is on his cheeks) … well, if it's to announce that all their problems have been miraculously solved, she'll eat her tiara.
'I have bad news,' Grover says.
That slight tremor in his words, borne of an attempt to keep one's voice steady that isn't quite succeeding, tells Thalia exactly what sort of bad news this is going to be. She's experienced it enough herself, after all. The Battle of Manhattan. The Battle of San Juan. The Battle of the Waystation. She's no stranger to loss. There've been too many in the past few years.
It strikes her how many more she may have to face in the centuries to come. She remembers the weary look her predecessor Zoë Nightshade used to have. Zoë led the Hunt for three thousand years. Thalia is starting to understand she was so at peace with passing on.
Then Grover says, 'It's about Jason.'
And everything stops.
It steals up on her, sometimes, these moments where the world moves in slow motion and she becomes rooted to the ground, silent and still. It must be how she experienced the world for six years (not that she actually remembers being a pine tree). She's been trying to break the habit for years now—she hates being still—but it's an insidious one.
It's actually ironic how she ended up as a tree. After L.A., after she lost Jason—after her mom failed them so badly … no, after she failed her baby brother. She ran away and never looked back and vowed she'd always keep moving. Keep moving on.
She'd never stay still.
Until she did (yeah, thanks for that, Dad).
But she's frozen now, replaying those three little words from Grover's mouth. It's about Jason.
A lot of her memories from before (she's never really sure what she means when she thinks before—before the Hunters? Before arborification? Before Luke?) are fuzzy now, but there's one that stands out clearly: the day Beryl Grace brought her children to the Wolf House in Sonoma.
'Ah, I forgot the picnic basket,' her mother said, tugging Jason away from Thalia. 'Would you get it, dear?'
And Thalia went, because Jason was hungry and if nobody fetched the food, he might try eating rocks this time (and even at nine Thalia knew a mom who managed to get wasted while her two-year-old ate a stapler was not to be trusted to keep said toddler properly fed).
When she came back, he was gone.
The hurt that ripples through her now isn't like the explosion of grief that spurred her into action back then, raging at her mom and throwing the picnic basket at her head (she thinks she may have hurled a couple of rocks as well). This is a shockwave fanning out from the site of that old wound—the one that started to scab when she met Luke (sometimes she wonders if she was so drawn to him because he reminded her of her dead brother, blond and blue-eyed and always gazing at her with those worshipful eyes … almost as though Amaltheia knew who she was missing and brought her to the closest possible substitute for family). The one that knitted into a thin scar two years ago when she found her brother at last. It is a serrated blade that digs into that closed up scar, ripping it back open.
There will be no hope of stitching it back again after this.
Thalia forces herself to move, to unroot. Her fingers uncurl one by one. When did she even clench them?
'He got dragged into your quest, didn't he?'
It was only a week ago that she told Apollo and Meg to say hi to Jason if they passed through L.A. She wishes she'd never mentioned it, never given them the slightest indication that he existed.
Hades, she wishes she'd gone and dropped in on him herself.
Anything that might have changed things.
What if, what if, what if.
The story comes out in Grover's faltering voice. Thalia touches her face. Her cheeks are dry. Where are her tears?
'Are you sure?' she hears herself say. 'Was there a—a body?'
She made that mistake once. She believed her mom when she said Hera had taken Jason. Technically it was true, but if she'd searched harder, if she'd pushed further …
More what ifs.
Did she mention, she hates what ifs, too?
'I didn't see—him,' Grover stammers. 'I wasn't with him. But it's real.'
Why weren't you there? she wants to yell. Weren't you the guide? How did it become Jason’s fight?
But she knows the answer. She knows viscerally what must have happened. A last stand. A desperate need to save his friends. The acceptance that his life for theirs was a worthy price.
She's been there herself, after all.
Apollo, Meg, Piper—they were his Luke, Annabeth, and Grover.
The irony tastes like ash. They grew up apart, but her little brother turned out just like her anyway.
Only Dad didn't come through for Jason.
'My brother and his, ah, demigod master, are taking him to Camp Jupiter,' Artemis says gently. 'He'll get a proper Roman burial.'
Grover nods. 'I—I guess he'd want that?' He looks at her uncertainly, and Thalia realises he doesn't know. He doesn't really know the boy—the man—who sacrificed himself for his friends.
And … neither does she. For all she loves her brother … loved her brother (can she still use the present tense if he's gone?) … she doesn't know what he would have wanted, or where his real home was, or who else he called family. She never had a chance to know him as the man he'd become.
It's Luke all over again. All those missing years and by the time she had a chance to grapple with the new person they became, she lost them. And the fact that they died as heroes isn't much comfort.
(She wasn't there when Luke died, either.)
This time, it's her own fault. She chose to become a Hunter. It's not like she regrets her decision. Not really. Mostly.
But she can't help wondering—if she'd been free of her current responsibilities, could she have spent the past three years with her brother? Would she have been with him at the end?
Could she have taken his place?
'Caligula is going there, too,' Grover says grimly. 'To—finish what he started. Apollo and Meg are going to try and stop him, but the prophecy we got from the Erythraean Oracle, it said they'd only succeed if they had help from Bellona's daughter.'
Bellona's daughter. She remembers a warehouse ambush turned quickly on its head, her knife held back at her own throat. A girl who was so much deadlier and captivating than Jason had managed to describe.
A girl who had known him better than Thalia ever had the chance to.
Thalia closes her eyes. 'I need to go there, then.'
Technically this would be dereliction of duty. They haven't found the infernal Teumessian Fox, and Camp Jupiter is in the opposite direction of their tracking. But duty pales in the face of her burning need to bring her brother's murderer to justice.
If they wanted her to put duty first, they should have made her the Roman, she thinks bitterly.
It's utter folly to challenge a goddess. Thalia does it anyway, looking up with defiance in her eyes.
But there's a funny look on Artemis's face. Part compassion, part … regret? Trepidation? Almost as if they are in the same boat.
Technically, Artemis is Thalia's sister, though she's never really thought about it that way. Now, though, the unspoken agreement that passes through them is definitely not from lady to lieutenant, but from one sister to another. She'll let Thalia make this decision for herself. She won't pass judgement.
Artemis may not get boys, but she does understand what it means to have a brother. And maybe she even gets now what it might be like to lose one.
Maybe Artemis even wants her to go. Because her hands are tied—the catch-22 of being a deity. She cannot order her Hunters to interfere even if she wants to.
But Thalia can.
And she'll go to Camp Jupiter. She'll find this Caligula and avenge Jason. She'll give her brother the farewell that twice now she's failed to say.
(There will be no third chances.)
And if Reyna Ramírez-Arellano is the key to taking down these emperors, then Thalia is damn well going to be fighting by her side.
Because she is Thalia, sister of Jason, and nobody—nobody—gets away with hurting the people she loves.
A/N: What hits me hardest about Jason’s death in TBM is imagining the others’ reactions to the awful news. And this just had to come out because I cannot deal otherwise.
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Lament of the Asphodels - Chapter 26: Ariadne, Dionysus, and the Minotaur
Lament of the Asphodels
Title: Ariadne, Dionysus, and the Minotaur Author: Dracox Serdriel Artist: @liamjcnes Artwork: Post 1 | Post 2 Word count: 3,900 Rating: NC-17/Explicit (except on FF) Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, Graphic sexual content, Declaration/threats of sexual violence, Minor character death, Social stigmatization/abuse, Detailed descriptions of hopelessness/depression/inner turmoil, Descriptions of the effects of extreme phobias/social anxiety, including anthropophobia, thalassophobia/hydrophobia, and hylophobia/dendrophobia, Descriptions of shipwrecks and storms at sea
Read Lament of the Asphodels on FF, AO3, LJ, or start at the beginning on Tumblr. Written as part of @captainswanbigbang.
Chapter 26: Ariadne, Dionysus, and the Minotaur
A very, very long time ago... Heracles sought redemption and so undertook ten tasks said to be so difficult no man could ever hope to complete them. His ninth labor was to retrieve the Belt of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, who ruled the fiercest warriors in all the realms, so no act of force would ever wrench such a prized possession from her or her ranks.
But Heracles, being of determined stock and disposition, traveled to the land of the Amazons and formally requested an audience with Hippolyta. Upon their meeting, the Queen of the Amazons was impressed with the young hero's honesty and even more so with the kindness of his heart, for he had suffered many years for the sake of his absolution yet remained noble and unencumbered by the snares of bitterness. So she offered him her belt without conflict as a gift for the world-weary hero. Thus, Heracles so concluded his ninth labor with nary a drop of blood nor sweat.
To this day, the storybooks maintain this tale, for none knew that Hippolyta paid dearly for this simple act of compassion. Though the Queen did not know it, the goddess Hera watched Heracles struggle with gladness, and she frowned upon anyone who eased his burden, however slightly. Thus, she conjured up a wicked punishment for the Queen who dared to lessen one of his labors. She ordered Hermes to beguile Hippolyta into traveling to the Underworld without invitation or permission. Hermes then abandoned her, leaving her to incur the wrath of Hades and his judges, who swiftly condemned the trespasser. From that moment onward, Hippolyta was a living soul trapped in the Underworld, never to see her people nor rule over them evermore.
That was how Hippolyta came to be in the Underworld with a bitter mistrust of Olympians and, above all, a score to settle. When whispers of a godly treasure hidden in the depths of this realm caught her ear, she listened and followed them to their source, but alas, the Unending Flame was too well guarded for her to acquire it. So she waited a very, very long time, and one day, both the snare that protected it and the Keeper who guarded it were gone. Hippolyta set upon her opportunity, leaving Stagrock Light dark for the first time since the day of its creation.
Unfortunately, neither Emma Swan nor Killian Jones had any way of knowing any of this, for though a rarity, some secrets remain kept, even in the Underworld.
"Swan, what the bloody hell is that?" Killian asked as he withdrew his hand.
"I dunno," Emma replied. "I was holding it when I woke up."
She examined the orb closely, her fingers absently gliding over its flawless form as her eyes devoured its every contour and color. Though it shined brightly, the surface retained a perfect temperature, neither hot nor chilling to the touch, and the likewise its weight strained neither her muscles nor credulity. The lack of imperfection alone set it apart form anything she'd ever held in her hand, and in the end, it was the only thing that revealed the truth of its nature.
"It's pure magic," she concluded out loud. "Self-contained somehow... but it only seems to work when we're both touching it."
Killian hesitated to respond, for his immediate reaction was borne from hundreds of years of memories of the only the vileness sorcery. He mistrusted magic and those who wielded it, for such power consumed those who dared possess it. In fact, the only human he'd ever met who never let magic transfigure her heart was the impossible woman before him, the singular Emma Swan.
And her instincts told her that the orb was safe to use, that it wasn't part of the endless curse that entrapped them, yet it appeared to him as just another false hope. Who should he trust more, a pirate or the Savior? That was no riddle to him.
"Was it meant to aid us?" he asked, seeking her confirmation.
She nodded her head, yes.
He tentatively reached out, planning to put two fingers over it, but she grasped his wrist and turned his palm up, dropping the orb into it. Then she wrapped both her hands around his, and for a few fleeting seconds, there was naught but she and he waiting with anticipating breath. Thereafter, the unfettered power within burst out, and together they witnessed an onslaught of visual and auditory decadence.
There were five resplendent horses, their noble forms silhouetted against a rising sun. Two stood side by side, their beauty contrasted by the wild frenzy in their eyes. A magnificent building appeared next emblazoned with the name The New Stables of Diomedes.
The winds shifted, and a rush proceeded, a series of movements in rapid succession that began at the destination and withdrew, as if reversing all efforts to visit the locale. Through woods, then plains, straight to the shore where both rock and sand met the waves. The sound of the water became deafening.
Emma opened her hands, breaking the connection and snapping them both back to the frigid lighthouse. Neither vocalized their concern over the fact that they saw no sign of Hippolyta nor the Unending Flame, for the orb presented not only the path but also a lingering message: to retrieve the stolen beacon, they would require something from those stables.
"I didn't recognize any of it," she confessed.
"Aye, you wouldn't," he replied. "I've seen that shore. Passed the Harbor of Northedge, no more than a day's journey."
She rose to her feet, her sedate and curious posture switching to alert and ready as she said, "If we start packing now, we could leave by dawn. I can - "
"Swan," he interrupted. "The sun went down only a few hours ago. There's no rush to collect what we'll need. Let's start a fire, warm ourselves, and eat before we decide anything."
Killian couldn't help the grimace when he saw the damage to the basement doors, for the Keeper knew there would be no repairing them and any replacements would take weeks to craft. He forced himself to press on and assess the rowboat, which had been mercifully preserved apart for a few chips along the stern, where the serpent's scales had cut hardest against the wood.
He was surprised at how difficult it was to shed the persona of the Keeper, for this life was naught but suffering rooted in deceit. Apparently, the solitary Keeper was as much a part of him now as the dastardly pirate.
The cold wrenched him from his thoughts as he shoved the door remnants aside. The weak blue light of dawn stretched its pale rays over the ragged dock. The sea serpent had broken much of the rail, but walking across it revealed no structural damage. There would be no obstacles loading the boat, so they could leave within the hour if they were particularly expedient about it.
He shouldered the rowboat and carried it to the edge of the dock where he moored it tightly as it swayed with the slow undulations of the tides. It was there under the nigh hypnotic motion equally familiar and foreign that he finally realized the extent of his exhaustion. He hadn't known a fatigue like it for an age, back during his time on the high seas of Neverland, where time only manifested in rust, rot, and storm. The steep price of agelessness was an unnatural weariness that never fully abated, so hose afflicted remained effete and spent regardless of their choices. It was the kind of curse that he once believed only the fiction of foolhardy storytellers, solely invented to dilute the wonder and allure of immortality, derived from jealousy rather than wisdom, for what storyteller truly chanced to ponder the gift of eternal life?
He had been a simpleton to presume such fantasies, and now his lone reflection was nothing more than the desperate hope that the children there were immune to that horrid malediction.
Killian turned back to the lighthouse, measuring his steps to quell his turbulent thoughts. He had never told Emma of that; in fact, there were countless things he'd yet to impart on her. Some were frivolities unworthy of her ear, and others were half-forgotten tales only old men would tell.
Yet there were many he should've told her long ago, and it was prudent to confide in her now, before time ran out. It always seemed to do that, and always far sooner than he desired. Perhaps that was the cost of his centuries as a villain, for what the darkness could not taint, it endeavored to destroy.
With that rueful thought, he cast his doubts away, for whoever he was now – the Keeper, Captain Hook, Lieutenant Jones – he had much to answer for and much ahead. He promised himself that he would save Emma Swan and return to her family, her son, whatever the price.
Emma descended into the basement laden with canvas packs that were heavy with provisions for the journey. Had she not been so burdened with awkward parcels precariously balanced in her arms, she would've witnessed the sorrow and guilt of Killian's soul. As it happened, however, the faintest echo of her footfall alerted him to her presence. He banished all sorrows from his visage and straightened up, putting on the airs of the pirate-turned-hero, for he longed to see that beaming smile that only she possessed, the one she reserved for the joyous beginnings of a joint adventure.
And he was not left wanting, for at the sight of him, she could no more help the upturning of her lips than the flutter of her heart. She let the packages fall to the floor before she leaned over them to plant a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.
His arms coiled around her to bring her near despite the obstacles, and his mouth devoured hers with a voracious hunger he hadn't realized he'd had. They indulged in the bliss of one another, drinking in each other as they grappled to come closer, stumbling over the bags at their feet. When the kiss ended, he remained hunched over so that she could press her forehead against his as they both regained their composure.
The bright rays of the morning sun warmed their skin as the invigorating sea air enveloped them in a salty wind. His body urged him to discard their quest and retreat into the warm sanctuary of the living room, where they could make love until the moon rose into the night sky, but he resisted the temptation. It was, Emma, however, who mustered the strength to speak.
"We'd better stop now," she said quietly. "Or we might never."
Killian, being only flesh and blood, could only contest his yearnings so much, asked, "Is that such a horrid thing?"
"No," she replied, flashing him another smile. "Actually, I'm looking forward to it."
Bloody hell, he thought. This woman will be the death of me.
Before he could respond, she stepped back, hauled one of the packs to her shoulder, and walked away so that her blond locks flowed in the breeze like the tides. She, too, wanted nothing more than to start and never stop, to let passion consume their days and nights, to forget the responsibilities and tribulations of the world, but an urgency spurred her to complete the so-referred labors as if an overturned hourglass was nearing the end of its grain. There would be time enough later to embrace both her countless fantasies and his unfathomable desires after they escaped this place, lest they became mired in this curse evermore.
When she reached the boat, she realized that he was still inside the lighthouse.
"Are you coming?" she called.
"Aye, love," he replied as he lifted his pack and several lengths of rope.
They tied down their packs and the oars, so Emma made for the lighthouse, assuming they would secure the doors before they disembarked.
"There's no point," Killian said gently. "Those doors won't hold against a strong wind, let alone a storm."
"But everything you own is in there," she said.
"No, everything the Keeper owned is in there," he replied. "Happily, everything I hold dear is coming with me."
For some reason, his words made her mouth go dry, so she choked when she next tried to speak. Yet she pressed on until she could reply, "Me, too."
She climbed in and sat on the bow-side, and he joined her, taking up the rower's seat and undid the mooring. The steady slap of the oars against the water punctuated the bittersweet silence as they left the battered lighthouse, which seemed so vulnerable under the new day sun. She wondered if they'd ever return, because more and more, this place felt like a dream.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I capsized my vessel while transporting the Admiral of the Royal Fleet?" Killian asked abruptly.
"No, I'm pretty sure that's something I'd remember hearing about."
"Ah, then you're in for quite a tale, love."
The weather and sea favored them, yet the unforgiving nature of their journey refused to abate, particularly the relentless kiss of the sun, which was so harsh that Emma rigged up a pair of makeshift parasols before they even passed Cellar Island. Despite the shade, the oppressive heat made the rowing hard going, so they switched off every few hours. Even though they didn't stop to rest nor to eat, their progress was halting at best, forcing them to consume whatever morsels they could while sitting at the bow.
Killian did his best to distract them, regaling her with stories about his time serving in the Royal Navy. The bitterness of his brother's death had turned those memories so sour that he never spoke of them, apart from a few select moments he imparted to Milah. After her murder, he locked those memories away, lest they lightened the blackened heart he required for his revenge of skinning the Crocodile. Telling those tales not only made the time pass more swiftly, but to him, it was akin to a tonic or confession, somehow purging his demons and conscience alike.
By midday, the sounds of the Northmost Harbor echoed across the water. Emma caught only the faintest glimpses of the bustling thoroughfare, for they agreed to give it a wide berth, despite its alluring promise of reprieve. The last thing they needed was unwanted attention from those most affected by the lighthouse falling dark, so they kept out of sight of the shore as they went by the port.
Emma had hoped that their destination would soon be upon them once they passed the harbor, but there were many hours yet before the shore became rocky and rugged. By the time they landed, there were precious few hours before dusk, so they scrambled to carry the boat inland where they could hide it. They scarcely had time to build a fire before darkness fell, which forced them to camp far closer to shore than they had planned.
Luck hadn't failed them entirely, though, for the sky was car and the winds calm, allowing them to settle out in the open. They coiled together by the receding tongues of flame with little more than a heavy blanket between them and the stars. Though the ground was uncomfortable, the company made it bearable.
"You love the sea, don't you?" Emma asked.
"Aye, it's in my blood, as they say," he replied.
"Can you picture yourself settling down on dry land?"
"I have done," he responded. "When I traded The Jolly Roger to get back to you."
"I'll never forget that," she said, squeezing his hand. "Never."
"It was nothing," he admitted. "I had spent the year previous pining, trying to go back to who I was before I met you. A fool's errand. I could no more embrace the darkness within than the stars could blot out their light."
"They are beautiful," she whispered.
Something in her voice made him wonder what preyed on her mind, for there was no doubt in his that something troubled her in this moment.
"What are you thinking of?" he asked.
"Ariadne," she replied.
"The woman who defeated the Minotaur," he said. "An odd thing to ponder at such a time."
"She didn't kill the Minotaur."
"No, but she provided Theseus with a sword to kill the beast and a ball of thread, that he might escape the labyrinth," Killian said. "She wasn't among those to be sacrificed, otherwise I suspect she would've marched into that maze herself."
"You sound like you knew her personally," she commented.
"I know her type," he said, waggling his eyebrow for emphasis.
"She fell in love with Theseus," Emma commented. "She thought if she helped him slay the Minotaur and escape the labyrinth, they'd run off into the sunset together and live happily ever after."
"But that was not how things transpired," he added. "Her suiter abandoned her, did he not?"
"Depends on the version, but no matter his reason, he left Ariadne," she replied. "She was alone on some island with a broken heart and no home to return to, probably the worst moment of her life, and Dionysus sweeps in and marries her. It always stuck out to me, that part of the story, because it was the only one where the hero isn't the guy who bravely kills the bad thing... at least, not in the end."
"Aye," he said. "But were it not for the Minotaur and her broken heart, Ariadne may have never had found love, happiness, and immortality besides."
"That was my father's... my grandfather's favorite tale," Emma corrected herself.
"Grandfather?"
"Leopold, my mother's father," she said. "He was Leopold Swan in this life, my adopted father, and my grandmother, Eva Swan, was my adopted mother."
"You speak as if they were real," he observed. "Rather than fanciful figments of this realm."
"They were real," she said.
He rose up on to one elbow, changing the angle between them, his mind flush with possibilities.
"Swan?"
"Milah and Liam were real."
"Aye, as ghosts and phantoms in this realm," he said quickly.
"Graham was real," she continued. "Pan and Greg were both real, Killian. That's why we remember their faces."
"So your grandparents... Graham, the others," he said. "They, too, came to this realm."
"Either they came or they were brought," she replied.
"But Liam insisted that his attempt to come to me trapped him here as a wisp of himself, a glimmer of spirit that I never could connect with, not without my memories."
"I don't know how or why," she admitted. "But their faces are true, and they remain true because it was really them, curse or no. Nearly everyone else in this life was false, but I met my grandparents, or some version of them, and I got to say goodbye to Graham..."
"Aye," Killian commented quietly.
He couldn't argue with her assertion of the facts, for the Stormbringer bore Pan's countenance whenever he dreamt or thought of the vile tyrant. The Dockmaster, the Lawmaster, and countless others had all become faceless entities, carelessly ambiguous to his waking thoughts and nightmares alike. The only reason such clarity could persist was the essence of a true soul, that part of a person that could never be tainted or torn asunder by even the darkest of curses.
"It's just... so easy to feel like I've been abandoned," she continued tentatively. "Even though I know I'm not alone."
A wicked grin flashed across his lips as he said, "Are you equating me with Dionysus?"
"I'm trying to apologize," she said.
"We've both done enough of that, love."
"It doesn't feel like I've done enough," she said, lowering her voice. "Just the opposite."
"Swan, I - "
"I had everything I ever wanted," Emma cut him off. "I grew up with siblings and great parents and friends, a community... I had the childhood I always wanted, while you had nothing, all because - "
He interrupted her, "Because part of the curse was to take everything away from you, Swan, to strip you of everything you'd ever longed for."
"But that's not what happened for you," she pointed out.
"Isn't it?" he asked. "My time in this realm hasn't been pleasant, but there was one thing I had here that I longed for all my life... freedom."
"Freedom?" she repeated.
"I spent most of my life trapped," he explained. "My brother and I were trapped by our father's debt. Then I was trapped by my commission and even trapped as a pirate. It never mattered what decision I made, even when I didn't choose anything at all, I always wound up confined with responsibilities... I had never truly been alone, fully independent. Not like I was here."
"You want to be alone?" she asked.
"No, no," he responded as he took hold of her hand. "I didn't even know... it never seemed something to desire. Yet there were many years here where my solitude was a gift I never appreciated."
She cupped his cheek as her eyes bored into his, searching for any sign of omission or other untruth, but all she found was a melancholy that deepened with his realization. Not all personal truths were worthy of speech, and she had no doubt that whatever he chose not to impart belonged to that realm of self-discovery.
"I had everything I had ever wanted," she said. "And some of it was real, but... it wasn't enough to fill the hole in my heart. It wasn't enough because I didn't have you."
"Emma, you couldn't remember me."
"I didn't have to," she replied breathlessly. "When you're not there, I can feel it, even if I can't remember who I'm missing."
There were no words to express his response, which was something between reciprocation and awe, so he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers. The sweet, chaste kiss quickly escalated with teeth and tongue, and he shifted his body covered hers. Her hands were suddenly everywhere: in his hair, gliding over his back, caressing any skin that she could reach.
He became lost in her eyes, her scent, her warmth as she enveloped him in her arms. She pressed her advantage and flipped them, so he was on his back with her sprawled out on top of him. She rose to her knees and dragged her core against his body, and they soon lost themselves to the urgent passions that had been bubbling up since they settled in for the night.
The heat between them made them cast off the quilt, and the scanty garments that separated them soon followed. His left arm fit perfectly into the small of her back as his hand explored the voluptuous curve of her breasts. She anchored herself to the ground as his bowed up against her, their friction like fire and ice colliding as they moved together.
This time there was no distraction of memories punctuation the flood of moments. This time, there was nothing but Emma and Killian, bare under a blanket of stars by the dying embers of the fire.
End-of-chapter notes: Ariadne was the daughter of Minos, King of Crete, who sacrificed men and women every seven years by sending them into the Labyrinth. Within lived the Minotaur, a half-man, half-bull which devoured anyone sent into the maze. One year Theseus, son of King Aegeus, drew the lot of those sorry souls condemned to death by the Minotaur, but when Ariadne saw him she fell in love. So she gave Theseus all he needed: a sword to kill the Minotaur and a ball of thread to aid in his escape from the Labyrinth.
Thereafter, Ariadne fled with Theseus, intending to elope. Instead of marrying her, Theseus abandoned her on the island Naxos, where Dionysos, the deity of wine and ecstasy, discovered her and made her his bride. When she died, she ascended to Mount Olympus as an immortal.
For next and previous chapters, proceed to the Lament of the Asphodels main Tumblr page.
#lament of the asphodels#captain swan big bang#csbb#csbb 2016#cs ff#captain swan fanfic#once upon a time#ouat#ouat ff#once upon a time fanfic#captain swan#fanfic#killian jones#emma swan
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