#i think this is a thing now where I draw apollo every few months and disintegrate.

[electricalcheese]

The worst scene in The Tyrant's Tomb EVER!!!!!!11!1!

[doueverwonder]

Tutelage

This was inspired by @rebelsandtherest fic Amity on their ao3 (their username is Elfpen)! Go read it please! It's amazing! One of my favorites! They did give me permission to write this. I know my writing isn't as good as theirs but I hope someone likes this! Also no, I don't want to know if I'm using the word Tutelage wrong.

Warnings: None, except for the mention of a gun at some point.

July 21st, 1969. 

Alfred sat at home, eyes glued to the TV, part of him had wanted to stay at the NASA headquarters. But he also wanted to watch it as most of the world would. Nothing yet, just news headlines running it, 'any moment now' they had to have said it a thousand times. But nothing had happened, he leaned back starting to think the transmissions would never come. His foot tapped insistently on the floor, staring at the tv for even another moment seemed unbearable, but getting up and possibly missing it seemed even worse. He should have just stayed at NASA headquarters, at least there were other people to talk to; at home it was just quiet. 

He wouldn't miss anything getting a book off a shelf would he? Alfred turned up the tv keeping his eyes trained on it as he crossed the room to the bookshelves. His head still turned every moment or so as he tried to pick something to read. Nothing seemed interesting though, he moved to another shelf, there had to have been hundreds of books on the shelves something would be interesting. Stuck in the corner of one of the lower shelves Alfred noticed an unlabeled book that he didn't recognize, he leaned down pulling it out and flipping through the pages. It was an astronomy book funnily enough, but he couldn't remember buying it or even getting it for a birthday or christmas. He made his way back to his chosen spot on the couch still searching the pages for something to remind him of where it had come from. 

Nothing. The last fifty pages or so were empty, the first handful had drawings he could recognize as his own handwriting. He kept flipping, finally getting to the back cover where something had been glued to the inside cover. Alfred checked the tv again to make sure nothing else had happened, the still headlines about Apollo 11 still flashing across the screen, but nothing new. His eyes went back to the note, squinting trying to decipher the neat handwriting that he knew wasn't his. It wasn't in english either, that much was immediately noticeable. He was able to read it, the fading made it harder though and he was only able to get a word here and there, not the full message. The note wasn't signed, which would have helped greatly. A few more moments of staring at the paper trying to figure it out, and he had it... 

'I've included all the maps I know. Next time I see you, I expect to learn some new ones, and hope you'll tell me how you made them.'

Suddenly he knew where it came from, everything about that trip back in 1783 rushing back.  months staying with Björn, days of wandering Stockholm, evenings of stories of things that happened centuries before he was born. Sweden had been so kind: it was still odd to think that Françios had said he would have been the first to call Björn that. That night at the Uppsala observatory, they stayed up there all night. The conversation with Kasper that he hadn't thought about since it had been fulfilled and he visited him and they walked in Turku... he forgot to watch the tv as it all came rushing back. He cringed at himself, he had to have been thirteen, fourteen maybe? Alfred knew he had almost cried when he had to leave. He looked down at the book flipping back to the front pages, a new feeling filled him. It was like... homesickness, for somewhere that wasn't technically home. Of course he and Björn and Kasper had been in contact constantly since then, but he hadn't visited them like that, just to visit, for a century at least. 

His eyes flipped back up to the tv, the screen had changed and now showed something that was very much not a repeated headline on a screen. The notebook stayed in his lap as he felt what seemed like the entire world hold their breath, everyone was watching weren't they? He glanced at the clock, 10:56 pm, and he was watching history happen alone in his living room. 

"That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind"

Alfred sat back, his hand going to his forehead, they did it. He knew everything he should be feeling, but instead his first reaction was to want to call someone, and say 'did you see?' of course they would have, they would tell him good job, Alfred hated it that his first reaction was to want someone else's approval. Who could he call though? Matthieu would nod and congratulate him, but he knew his tone wouldn't offer what he wanted. William wouldn't even want to say anything good about it, just complain and offer up something he did himself... his mind went through all the people that he could call, but the weight of the book in his lap offered a suggestion. 

He turned the tv up again, making sure he would be able to hear it from the front hall where the telephone was. Alfred got up and made his way to the front hall picking up the phone, and waiting for the operator. Most home phones wouldn't allow international calls, but as a government official his fortunately would. 

It rang a few times before the operator picked up, "Hey Mrs. O'Connor's," Alfred knew all the operators by this point, he had the same line for so long and apparently some of them just didn't leave. He answered a few questions, thanked her for the congratulations on such an achievement. Then got back on topic, 

"Mrs. O'Conners, I have to make a long distance call, how long? Well..." he hesitated for a moment, knowing after he told her and hung up he couldn't change his mind unless he wanted to make up an excuse for why he had to talk to Björn, "Stockholm?" 

She made a small disgruntled noise, then reminded him it would take awhile. "Yes, yes ma'am I do know, but I really need to speak to someone over there" 

She promised to do her best to make it quick, Alfred thanked her and hung up knowing it was going to be a long night. Calls could take six hours to go through and he wasn't risking falling asleep and missing it. 

He went back to the living room, he looked up at the TV not sure if he should keep it on to see if anything else happened or if he should turn it off. A decision was met to keep it on, just to fill the space with noise. Alfred looked at the ceiling, what was he thinking wanting to talk to Sweden of all people? 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Did you see?" Alfred didn't even wait for Björn to say Hello once he heard he was connected, there was a click the operator hanging up and he heard the Swedish man on the other end respond; 

"I saw" 

"I beat Russia"

"And I told you to stay out of Russian affairs" he was reminded of the warnings given centuries earlier, ones that had clearly been ignored as of recent. 

"I'm sorry" 

The line went silent, Alfred didn't know what to say and if he was guessing Björn didn't know either. A conversationalist he was not; and suddenly it almost seemed like a mistake to go through all of this for a phone call to brag. 

"Alfred?" 

He jumped hearing his name on the other end, "Yes sir?" 

Björn hesitated again on the other end, he wasn't sure if he should be saying what he was about to. He didn't exactly have to hide things like he did at the beginning of their relationship. Pointing a gun at Njal was a wonderful way to start off a relationship though. He was still supposed to be the Neutral one though, if either the East or West found out differently it could trash decades of cooperation. 

So instead of continuing he asked; "When can we meet in person?" 

"Excuse me?" Alfred was confused by the question. 

"When can I see you next" 

The other end went silent yet again, "There's a UN meeting in–"

"No. Just you and I."  

Alfred thought for a moment, he looked at the book still sitting on the coffee table in the living room. "I can be in Uppsala in two weeks" 

"As soon as you're in Europe, call me." 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks went by, and then a month, then two; it was October before Alfred did actually make it to Sweden. Even then it was almost purely by miracle, the only way to get up there had been to lie about how long a NATO meeting was running for, and go afterwards. 

He stepped out of the airport, immediately shivering at the gust of wind. Alfred pulled his suit coat closer grumbling to himself about how he should have brought a heavier coat. The pickup area was bustling with activity; family members and friends rushing around to greet each other and help load suitcases into cars. It really wasn't all that different from a port seventy years ago. Alfred liked to jokingly think between his height, blond hair, blue eyes, and two hundred years of Swedish practice he might be able to pass as a Swede. The real only things that gave him away were how he wore his suits, and the deep tan he always retained. 

He finally stopped watching people to scan the line of waiting cars, black volvo is what Björn had told him when they talked before Alfred got on the plane in Belgium. He heaved a sigh trying to look in car windows, there had to be thirty black volvo's and he hadn't been given a more detailed description. How long was it going to take to get a phone he could carry around? 

He turned around to see if maybe he had accidentally pulled into the line of taxis behind him; only to jump a bit when a car a little too close for comfort blew its horn. The car in question's driver door opened, Björn getting out and waving Alfred over. Alfred tried to be quick to get his bags in the trunk and get in the passenger's seat, he knew how people could get if you took too long in the pickup line; or at least how New Yorkers got. As they pulled out, and onto the main road, Alfred tried to start conversation quickly: 

"It's nice to see you, sir" 

"It's nice to see you as well, Alfred" 

"It's cold ain't it?" He started talking about the weather, only because he wasn't sure what else to say. 

"It's actually warm for this time of year" Björn countered, his eyes not moving from the road for even a moment. "Why did you call me?" 

Alfred stiffened at the tone of it; he had been asking himself that for the past two and a half months and still hadn't come up with an answer. "Why did you want me to come here?" 

A silence settled over the car, both questions left unanswered. That was the problem about answering questions with questions; usually neither got answered. Alfred looked out the window attempting to avoid eye contact with Björn in the mirrors. He thought they were going to Uppsala, but didn't say anything when instead the road signs told him they were headed the opposite way to Stockholm. Alfred also knew though that the drive wasn't exactly short, and sitting in silence for forty minutes would be worse then just answering the question. 

"I guess..." he trailed off for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. "I guess I just wanted to brag" 

The Swede huffed, "You would have called anyone else to brag. Not me" 

Alfred tried not to sound offended, covering up that his excuse hadn't worked; "Why not you?" 

"If you really wanted to 'just brag' you would have called François" He wasn't wrong, Alfred needed François' approval more than anything else nowadays and with how critical of him the French were being, he had been using anything he could. But this hadn't been something he had wanted to tell François. "Why did you call me?" 

"Why did you ask me to come here?" Alfred asked his question more forcefully, making it clear he wouldn't speak another word until he had an answer himself. 

"Someone could have been listening to the phone lines" 

Alfred laughed at the statement, "We both know that's bullshit, Björn. You're not that much of a conspirator" 

"Kasper is turning me." The conversation almost changed at the mention of the Finnish personification. Alfred hadn't spent nearly as much time with Kasper as he had with Björn, it made him wonder how he was. 

But they both knew what was going on, and they both knew one of them could stop being stubborn; or they could go around in circles for the next half-hour. Really the only difference between them and Alfred with William was how explosive it could get. 

Alfred broke quite quickly, he had never been able to hide anything from Björn anyway. "I found that book you gave me. The one with the maps of the stars." he heaved a sigh, "And of course I found it just as they're landing the Apollo Mission on the moon, and it made me think of you, and 1783, and it just made me want you to be proud of me. It's stupid" 

The silence seemed unbearably awkward to Alfred as they continued on. Björn didn't respond, he didn't even look over to Alfred for a moment. The younger kept internally scolding himself; look what you've done, you made him uncomfortable. Why would he be proud of you? Why would you want him to be proud of you? He's just a work friend at most. 

The car stopped, Alfred didn't bother refocusing his vision, it must just be a stop light. They hadn't been in the car nearly long enough to be at the house. But the sound of cars still driving by made him look out the window, Björn had just pulled over to the side of the road for some reason. He opened his mouth about to ask if something was wrong with the car when;

"I am proud of you." 

Alfred scoffed lightly at the words, "You don't have to say that just to make me feel better about myself" 

"I'm not." Björn was looking at Alfred, he was serious as normal. But there was something different in his eyes. "When I met you, you were hopeless" 

"Thanks. That really boosts my confidence" 

"Alfred. You're the strongest in the world now." 

"And?" 

"And I can't help but think..." Björn trailed off wondering if he should say it. If he really had the right to. "I can't help but think I started that" 

"Of course you did!" Alfred laughed, "Dad hated my guts, François was too busy, no one else cared. I would have majorly messed up being a country without you." 

"See. So I have something to be proud of, I started it, and you built everything else." 

"You're proud of yourself." Alfred argued, 

Björn shook his head, "I'm proud of what you've become after what you were" 

He looked at his elder meeting his eyes, Alfred almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was proud of him, sincerely. Something no one else was, at least not openly. 

"You're sure you mean it?" He was almost mad about how hopeful he sounded. 

"I'm sure. There's plenty to be proud of." Björn smiled, just barely, but Alfred knew it was more than most people got from him. 

It was decided then that it was good they were in a car, if not Alfred would have hugged the man hard enough to crack a rib. Instead he just sat there reminding himself that superpowers don't cry when someone is proud of them. 

"I'm proud of you, Alfred." 

Third time a charm, and it left Alfred pinching the bridge of his nose to keep himself from crying. Björn must have noticed but instead of commenting he carefully got off the shoulder and back onto the main road headed to Stockholm. The silence that settled over the car was different from the others, it wasn't awkward. It was a contented silence. 

Once Alfred composed himself, he bounced back; and smiled, jokingly asking, "Can I have your "Lion of the North" title then?" 

"Absolutely not" Björn responded back quickly, trying to hide a smile. 

"Awww c'mon old man, you're not using it! And you said it yourself, you were my tutelage" 

"I did not use that word" 

"Close enough"

[straight-into-the-animus]

Meet Me Halfway (Alexios x F!Reader)

For @alexandra-alle who requested for the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge something inspired by the song Meet Me Halfway by the Black Eyed Peas for an Alexios x Female Reader. I’m sorry it took so long but I hope it’s worth the wait!

Warnings: Mentions of blood, spoilers for halfway through the game (starts after the second italic section)

The first time you met the Eagle-Bearer, he had saved you from a wild boar.

People always saw the past clearer than they saw the present, you were aware. Looking in the past, it was very easy to see the flaws in the idea of going looking for ingredients when most people with sense were asleep. But something in your mind gave the idea that to get there earlier than everyone else, a whole night earlier, you would be able to get some of the better roots and plants and have a better store to start later in the day with preparing. It made sense at the time… until you were being charged and tried to climb up a tree in sandals that had nothing to them, closing your eyes and holding on as if it were the leg of Hermes himself.

A sickly squelch, a squeal of pain, and then silence, aside from the sounds of your heart thudding wildly in your chest. Grass swayed and crunched under boots, and a voice eventually broke through the night, deep and concerned.

“Are you hurt?”

“...No.” You got out, cracking an eye open and looking down at the side to see a man looking up at you with deep brown eyes that even you could make out in the darkness. A broken spear was in his right hand, covered up to the elbow in blood, but the other seemed to hesitantly reach out and up to help catch you. You hoped the flush was hidden and realized how little your chiton actually hid as it rode up where you hugged the tree, but accepted the help gratefully.

“Thank you… Misthios, I can assume?”

“You may call me Alexios. Or the Eagle-Bearer. Many call me either.” He smiled a bit, and you couldn’t help but somewhat return it, glancing from his face to the spear to the boar and back within a few seconds.

“Whatever I call you, you’ve saved my life, and I must thank you properly for that. Let me take you to my house so I may look at your wounds and pay you.”

A look of surprise almost seemed to flash on the misthios’ face for a second before he nodded slowly; though this time, you were able to catch the smallest smile on the corner of his mouth which stayed for longer. “If you must insist.”

---------------

It had begun that night, and it had never stopped. There was no need to, no want or desire to. You realized a long time ago, since that night, that waiting was the worst part. You were getting frighteningly used to the feeling after a few years, but every now and then it would hit you in the chest as if it were a deadly arrow straight from a soldier. But even if you somehow found yourself getting used to it, you also found your feet sometimes straying a bit far out of the safety of the walls of the city in the morning to go stand by the docks and examine the ships, to watch for sails arising on the east horizon with Apollo’s sun.

At the same time, there had been many nights like tonight where you had spent overlooking from hills and mountains thinking it would afford you a better view, taking a bit too long to gather herbs for your practices and healings as you watched the ships come and go. It was becoming too dark to see, the night gently starting to overtake your vision, and with sadness you were starting to overtake, you left back for the city.

He had warned you when he had first met you, warned you many times he was dangerous -- how could he be dangerous when he spoke so sweetly --, and liable to hurt you -- but he touched you softly so you didn’t understand that --, but he had warned you how long he would be gone for, how his visits could be so short in comparison, always on his journey that Odysseus would envy, but you had listened… reluctantly.

“I almost think you simply don’t want me coming along because I’m a woman.”

“Hmm?” Alexios cracked an eye open, finger still tracing patterns you couldn’t discern in between your shoulder blades. They left prickles in their wake, and shivers down your body in pleasure, but you willed yourself to ignore them and propped yourself on your elbow to look at him. The fact that you were both bare hardly mattered.

“I might not know how to fight, but my father taught me everything possible from the gentle Asklepios I would need. I could come along, I would be useful to you. Could likely keep you out of trouble. And stop any more of these from happening…” It was your turn to touch as you reached down to his right side, running your fingers on a still healing scar, pink and white against the olive color of his skin. He let you have your fill of it before grasping your hand gently, so gentle between rough fingers, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss it.

“And if something were to happen to you that I could not stop…” He shook his head, and you knew with a sinking heart that there would be no more discussion. All you could do was make sure he knew how much he was loved, and take every bit of love that you could from him to warm yourself before it would eventually be gone in a few days. What else could you do when you loved the Eagle-Bearer? Nothing else at all.

---------------

In hindsight, the door being open a bit more than you remember leaving it was cause for alarm, but your mind was still cloudy from the thoughts of earlier in the day and it didn’t sink in until the door properly closed behind you and you turned to make sure it was secure.

“Y/N?”

You jumped a bit, a small gasp and shout mixing in your throat as you spun around and took in Alexios in the center of the house, who looked just as startled and reflexively jumped.

“Dear Gods, Alexios, I-”

“I meant to surprise- Are you alright?”

“I think so.” You leaned against your door, closing your eyes and placing a hand over your heart to will it to stop beating. You took a breath before opening your eyes and making sure it really was it, that it wasn’t imagination working itself into a frenzy over him.

But then he moved a bit closer, and you could take in all the little parts about him; the scars on his bicep, the warm glow of his skin illuminated in the fire he must have started while you were gone, how you could make out every thread in his clothes and crack in his leather armor. And though part of you knew it was difficult, that you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but to reach out to him at the same time he did you and hold onto him, hugging him close and burying your face into him.

“I missed you, my love.” His hand stroked through your hair, and you took in a deep breath, inhaling him and allowing yourself to be surrounded by it.

“I missed you as well.” You said quietly, and you meant it. “What brings you back? A Cultist? News about your family?”

He stiffened just a bit out of habit, apparently still holding onto that as a wound too raw to be picked on, but you held on tighter for reassurance before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“It goes well on that front. I have… I might have found word on where my mother is. I will sail there soon. There was simply a great deal of loss in Athens recently, I…” He shook his head and your heart sank and all the words you felt he couldn’t say, or that he wouldn’t say. Something had brought him here, and though it pained you, you knew you were still here. You liked healing the body and the spirits as well. Before you could even offer anything, he spoke again. “I came back because I thought of what you said. Of our last…”

And you knew what he meant.

There had been too much anger in your last meeting, too much pain once you parted, and you never wanted that to tinge any of these little things you had. The last time you saw him had been months back. When he had entered late one night and saw the things left for you. Heard the aftermath of what was said.

“I have waited, Alexios, but it is difficult still. Two years, and people speak. Men look. Do you even have anything to say?”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, there’s not much else-”

“You can say you’ll stop this and stay, or you can take me with you.”

He had been unable to make that decision back then, and though your heart had ached for him since then, still ached for him… It was hard to be in his arms now, without anything that seemed real otherwise.

“I meant what I said, Alexios.” You started off, quiet but sure as you stayed at arm’s length. Your hands gripped his tightly, drawing strength as much as you tried to give it to him. “I love you, you know that. But I can’t sit and wait.”

“I know. I can’t make you.” Fear almost passed through your heart at the way he sounded, the quiet tone of his voice, and you felt your breath catch before you quickly cut in.

“I want to go with you, Alexios. Please. Let’s… Let’s sit. We can speak on Athens. Come.” You led him near the fire and had him sit down, sitting across from him as well, back straight. He would not leave tonight like this, broken and saddened, and you knew that. “Tell me everything.”

The plague in Athens had reached every corner of Greece, you all knew about it. But to hear the truth, about the Cult -- and you only knew the barest details from what you pried out of Alexios when he was willing to share -- and about their puppet, his sister being in the center of everything to murder Perikles, to take out Athens itself… You couldn’t help but be shaken a little bit as he told you the story. It was completely dark out as he told you the story, everything silent both outside the house and in, before he spoke again.

“Now do you see why I was always scared for you to come with me, Y/N? My heart, I cannot bear- If I lost you…”

“I won’t lie and say I’m not frightened, Alexios. But only for you, not because of them.” I’m frightened of what might happen to you. This is why I wanted to come with you. Did you ever think I might be safer with you, where you could protect me, than alone and away from you?” You crept closer to him, the floor hard under your knees, but you were spared as you came closer and on top of his lap, into warmth. “You don’t have to do it by yourself, my love. I want to be there. Let me be there.”

He studied you, brown eyes creased with new lines, but also full of a new understanding that wasn’t there in these past discussions.

“Allow me to be here tonight for now. We can talk more in the morning. But…”

“I understand.” You nodded.

And you would both talk, you knew. You would talk until you couldn’t any more. And you would hold each other until it felt as if you were in the same body, never to be parted again even when you would eventually be forced to let go. But now, to be here, and to know that soon your life could very well be full of these moments very soon… How wonderful it sounded. And how worth it it would all be, how you swore you would make it.

I hope you enjoyed! This was part of the Valentine’s Day Playlist Challenge, details/info for how to request your own can be found on the bolded link above.  I have a Masterpost here and more unrelated ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request! If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here but absolutely no pressure on that front. Have a wonderful day!

[honeytea8]

“With you, forever” - Guido Mista/Reader

A/N: Discord prompt for the week was Greek AU and the first thing that popped in my head was Mista’s hat, since it kinda looks like a Trojan warrior’s helmet, so that’s where this came from!

Word Count: 1.6K (becuz why not)

Ares!Mista and Milkmaid!Reader insert for you :)

Not once had Mista ever been jealous of Apollo. Not once, until the moment it dawned on him that you—the very object of his affections—spent many of your days under the sun’s watchful eye. 

The warm coloring of your skin was proof of this, as you shepherded the sheep and tended to your father’s cattle. Even as sweat licked at your forehead and the fine little hairs on your nape and hairline stuck to your skin. To Mista, you were an oasis to a thirsty, dying man. The healing balm to tortured souls and the one who had seized his ravaged heart. 

You were an unassuming young milkmaid, with skin smoother than wax and hair softer than cotton. Every time he caught a glimpse of your flawless skin, his throat grew parched and the thoughts buzzing in his head came to a screeching halt. You, the beauty of your hometown, stood second to none in his book.

Being the god of war that he was, one thing Mista greatly admired was your devotion and hardworking nature. This truth was punctuated by the sturdiness of your limbs; the sinew and muscle of your thighs alone could bring a lesser man to his knees. You filled him with desire but Mista didn’t push or prod, content with simply watching you and pining from afar. 

When he overheard your father’s talk of marriage, it was then Mista determined in his heart that idleness would do him no good. Somehow, he must have you by his side forever.

He was Ares, a trojan warrior battle-bred and destined to be a hero. This simple endeavor should be easy enough. There wasn’t an inkling of doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t be able to win your love. With a single goal in his heart, he took a leap off his lofty throne beyond the clouds.

Mista found purchase near a well, the only well in the entire village. He had memorized your routes by now, so when the sun shifted a few centimeters to the left, he knew you would begin your trek up this specific hillside. You would carry with you a wooden pail, like you always did, but this time, he would be there to ask for a drink. You would grant it, he’d confess, and then whisk you away from this land to one far greater.

This was what he thought, however, reality was quite different from fantasy.

When Mista had asked for a sip of your water, your pouty lips screwed into a frown; with pinched brows you questioned, “What kind of a traveler leaves home without a waterskin?” 

The sound of your voice had him floundering for a moment. Not only because it was the first time his ears were blessed to hear it, but also because it was so soft and sweet, despite the harshness of your tone. 

How foolish he must appear now? His suave bravado completely dissipated at your words. But mercifully, you still scooped your little dipper into the pail and offered him a drink anyway.

Mista grinned boyishly, “You have refreshed me, amore. I owe you my life.” 

“Keep it.” you huffed while turning on your heels. “Don’t need it.”

In that split second when your gaze left him, your eyes showed a fire he had never seen in you before, one that burned brighter than the embers of Hephaestus. If he didn’t love you before, he was positive he did now. 

Mista gave chase, keen on following you even to ends of the earth.

“My name is Mista, god of war. You may have heard of me? Ares? The Olympian?”

You said nothing to indicate that you’d even heard his boasting.

“May you grant me the name of my savior, at least?”

“Nope.”

He blinked slowly, “Then...will you marry me?”

At his words, you paused for only half a second, “Are you mad?”

“For you? Possibly.”

Again, reality was quite far from fantasy but Mista wouldn’t complain about the fickle inner workings of fate. He would have your heart eventually, it was really as simple as that.

But by the day’s end, you had rejected him countlessly.

.

.

.

“You need a different approach.” 

Apollo, or Giorno rather, greeted him with a knowing smile on his lips. Mista slumped further in his throne, shaken but not defeated. 

“Of course you saw the entire thing.” 

Was there such a place on earth Giorno’s scrutiny did not reach?

“It’s in the job description, amico.”

Giorno took a seat upon a cloud beside him. The two gods remained silent, watching you as you went about your evening. Mista had been watching you more intently since you spurned his advances. It was a stinging blow to his pride, but he wouldn’t be much of a warrior if he quit. No, he would surely see this through to the end.

“A different approach,” Mista murmured. “Like how?”

“Hmm, well, have you tried showing your intentions rather than howling it into the high heavens?” 

Mista scratched his neck sheepishly. “That bad, eh?”

“Indeed, our dear brother would’ve come to slay you himself had I not managed to intervene.” Giorno’s warm grin spread into something a bit more teasing, a part of himself he only liked to show Mista.

The warrior god laughed, “I can handle Abbacchio’s temper, god of wine that he is. Dionysos hasn’t seen battle in over a thousand years, he could never slay the great Ares.”

“Be that as it may, it would do you well to let your actions speak louder than your words in this case. That mortal is different; your journey will only be as difficult as you make it, do not neglect the beauty of surrender.”

Mista hummed in thought, sobering up a bit at his brother’s prophetic words. Giorno was right—not that he’d ever doubted! Mista wondered in what ways he could best show you that his intentions were true. What would it take to get you to accept him? 

“Ever the wise one, Giorno?”

“Again, brother, it’s in the job description.”

.

.

.

Mista was a brute—a force of nature on the battlefield, and the absolute manifestation of chaos, destruction, and violence. He had killed countless men in times of war, using his body like an ax to cut down every foe. He was no strategist like Fugo or mischievously clever like Narancia. He could not think his way through this. Mista could only follow his instincts.

For the next several months, he devoted himself to your cause. 

When you arose at dawn to feed the chickens, he was there to help. When you hand-washed your linens in a river downstream, Mista was there with his robes hiked up, ready to assist. Whenever you drew out your hoe to till the land, whether for plowing or for harvesting, he followed suit. 

Did the sheep’s wool need to be taken for the winter? Did the meat need to be salted and preserved? Were the cows properly milked so they wouldn’t moo all day and night? Whatever it was that you required, Mista was there to serve. He’d even stayed with you when your father fell ill, procuring herbs for his tea and medication.

Until then, you hadn’t warmed up to him at all. You would glare and make snarky remarks to get him to leave you alone. Sometimes even ignoring him completely. But after seeing him dirty and bruised from scaling a mountaintop just to obtain a rare healing herb for your father. Well, after that, you couldn’t quite remain unaffected by his charm.

Soon, you realized there was more to this strange god than what the eyes could see. His humor, his confidence, his quirks and antics. (Honestly, who in their right mind numbered their weapons while skipping every number with four in it?)

You were surprised that he hadn’t mentioned marriage again after that first day. Of course you knew it was what he ultimately wanted, but he’d left it alone until you were comfortable.

Meanwhile, Mista had given himself over to you as a friend and much needed companion. He listened to you bare your soul with rapt attention, clinging to every word that fell from your lips. The many talks you both had well into the night were some of the most interesting and indulgent you’d ever had. You had never felt this way with anyone; it was the kind of happiness that made colors brighter and food taste better!

After much consideration, you finally agreed to take Mista as your love, though it wasn’t easy. You still couldn’t reconcile the yearning you had for him with your duties here on earth.

One evening, as you both sat out in the yard, you broke down and cried. He had floundered, again, but regained himself enough to move closer and lend you his shoulder. Please don’t cry, my love, is what he wanted to say but the lump in his throat was unyielding. What could bring you to tears like this? He hoped it wasn’t his doing.

“Mista,” you said, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t think I can leave with you…” 

Ah, now he understood. 

This was your life after all, and Mista had foolishly thought he could snatch you away from everything you knew. That he had been doing you a favor by wanting to take you to a place he thought was better than this.

It was true he wanted to remain by your side, but not unless he would get to see your smile or that wicked fire in your eyes. 

The god looked down at the calluses riddling his palms, the various cuts and scars each had a story to tell. They were innumerable. These were the very hands he wanted to hold you with. In this battle against his heart and mind, who would win?

Mista shifted closer to you, drawing an arm around the slope of your shoulder.

“Okay.” he said quietly. “So, what if I decided to stay here with you, forever?”

[thinkyoureholy]

Blessed With A Curse [1]

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Pairing : Kang Yeosang / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Future Smut, Greek God! AU

Words : 3.4k

Prologue. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-Y/N’s P. O. V-

I looked around frantically, my eyes looking for anyone I could trust but I found no one. They all looked at me scornfully, as if I was the dirt beneath their shoes. I begged for them to believe me but I could see they had already made up their minds. 

“I’m telling you the truth!” I shouted, turning on my heel quickly as I looked at them all, “I can swear to you here and now that nothing happened!”

Athena smirked at me, “And do you really think we’d believe you? We know exactly what kind of personality you have, it comes as no surprise really.”

“Fuck you, Athena. I know you’re just itching to have me thrown out so you can impress daddy with your new tricks,” I snapped, taking a step forward but the second I did lightning stuck the floor inches from my feet. 

I looked up at Zeus in shock, “Father...please believe me. I haven’t done anything! You know me! I would never!”

He narrowed his eyes at me, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t know you well enough it seems.”

A sharp piercing pain spread across my chest at those words, my eyes glazing over with unshed tears. No, please, you have to believe me! My eyes darted around from one face to the other until landing on her. The moment I met her eyes she looked away, my heart sinking the second she did. I then looked to the man next to her but he did the same, avoiding my gaze. 

“Even you two?” I asked, my voice strained as I tried to keep it from breaking. 

“It’s just-“

“We saw you.” Apollo interrupted his twin sister Artemis, finishing her, stepping in front of her as if to protect her from my gaze. 

“You saw me? You saw what exactly!?” I growled, waiting for a response but they refused to give me one. 

I then moved my gaze to Hephaestus, “You can’t tell me you believe any of this do you?”

“There are a lot of thing you are capable of and fucking my wife is one of them.” He spat out. 

“You have committed adultery and that is unforgivable.” Hera, my mother announced, drawing my gaze to her. 

I balled my hands up into fists, my nails digging harshly into the palms of my hands, knuckles turning white, “Unforgivable? Really? My asshole of a father has slept with countless other women, hell hardly any of us share the same mother but you’re saying what you’re all accusing me of doing is unforgivable? Bullshit.”

“Enough!” Zeus roared as he rose from his seat, “I have decided your punishment.”

I waited anxiously to hear what the punishment he thinks is just for a crime of this magnitude, a crime I didn’t commit. The stern and unforgiving look he cast upon me gave me little hope for any kind of leniency.

“You are banished from Olympus.”

My face paled at his words, my heart coming to a stop in my chest for a few seconds too long. The fear of being banished soon turned into rage, an anger so strong that I could barely control myself consumed my entire body. I felt my body tremble with the anger I was feeling, about to explode any second now.

. . . . . .

I woke up with a start, gasping loudly for air as I sat up in bed. My eyes darted around all over the place, as if looking for something but I didn’t know what. I must’ve woken up my father in the other room as he burst in, looking as frantic as I felt, a sword in his hands. 

“What, what is it!? What happened!?” He shouted, looking around once more before his eyes landed on me. 

I sighed heavily, bringing my knees up to my chest as I ran my fingers through my hair, “Nothing. Nothing happened. I just had a bad dream. I’m fine, papa.”

He took a moment to finally relax, the tension in his shoulders disappearing as he let out a sigh that mirrored mine, “Is it the same one?”

I looked away, hugging my knees closer to my body. Ever since I can remember I’ve had the same dream. Night after night it was always the same. I stood in the middle of what looked like a huge castle, it’s walls so high I couldn’t even see the end of it. The walls were a pristine white along with the columns that were in the room, separated by a few feet in between. Twelve chairs, all decorated differently, none the same were in a crescent moon shape in the middle of the room. I would always be arguing, pleading for my life to people I had never even since. I begged but they never listened. It always ended the same way. I was filled by this overwhelming anger that threatened to consume me but before anything happened I woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for air, my heart beating at a million miles per second. 

“Y/N…” My father spoke in a soft tone, putting his sword down against the wall and coming over to sit beside me. 

He placed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face into his shoulder. This dream always left me feeling so empty inside, like my heart had been gouged out with the rustiest spoon you could find. I wanted to know what it all meant but I was never able to figure it out. I mean it just didn’t make sense. I have never seen those people before but every time I had that dream their faces and voices were always the same, as if I was reliving some type of memory but that can’t be possible. Not only that but every time I spoke in the dream the voice was never mine, it was deep, husky, and unfamiliar but familiar at the same time, like I knew him or at least heard his voice before.

“This is all his doing…” My father mumbled under his breath, squeezing me tighter in his hold.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just some nonsense your old man is thinking about, don’t pay it any mind,” He said quickly, avoiding my questioning eyes as he evaded the subject. He gave me a tight lipped smile, changing the subject, “Why don’t we start the day early today? The sun is going to rise in a few hours. If we get the morning chores done ahead of time you’ll be able to have a few hours to yourself to relax before we open.”

I smiled back at him, letting what he said earlier go as I nodded. He leaned in and placed another kiss on my forehead before he let me go, rising to his feet. He grabbed his sword and left my room, leaving me along with my thoughts.

-

“Papa I’m heading out! I’ll be back in a bit!” I shouted to my father who was organizing some things at the back of the shop.

“Okay! Be careful!” He shouted back.

And with that I left. It didn’t take long for me to get to my destination and once I was there I began my training. I don’t know why nor do I care but ever since I’ve been able to walk I’ve had this urge to fight. There was something in me that kept me from being still for too long. I never fought with anyone but that’s not to say I never had the urge to do so. There have been countless times when I found myself having to choose to fight or take flight and though I wanted to fight, to protect those that needed protecting I always found myself fleeing. I had come close to picking up a sword to fight but the second I touched the handle of the sword my vision went white and a voice rang out in my head, the words always the same. The voice always warned me to never pick up a sword, a shield, a spear, or even a bow and arrow. The voice was so frightening that I listened to it every time until I stopped trying to involve myself in things where I needed to even think about fighting in the first place. But the urge was still there so I did the next best thing, I trained to fight on my own. I found that when I did that the urge to fight would dwindle and I wouldn’t have to hear that voice in my head the second I did. It was the best compromise I could find.

I looked over at the lone tree that stood a few feet from the cliff’s edge, the roots it dug deeply into the ground keeping it from falling into the sea below. I glanced down quickly at the bag I had brought over months ago with all kinds of weapons. I had buried it in a secure place and used what was in it whenever I pleased. I can’t quite understand why but the moment I touched one of the weapons I felt stronger, more in control of my body than when I didn't have a weapon in hand. I bent down and picked up a few of the daggers, the blades fitting in the palm of my hands perfectly.

“Ah...I must be crazy…” I breathed out, a wide grin spreading across my face as I brought my arm up before throwing the dagger, watching the blade embed itself into the trunk of the tree, “To think I enjoy things like this…” I chuckled softly before throwing another, then another, a surge of energy going through me. I felt like I could run for miles without stopping on this type of energy, it was exhilarating. I picked up my twin swords, they were a bit shorter than the swords used by the soldiers of the kingdom but that was the whole point. They were made so they were easier to carry and hide if I needed to. They were so light I was able to use both at the same time and two swords were always better than one. I turned my wrists, twirling the swords in my hands with ease. I raised them slowly to start training with them but before I could even get one swing in it started drizzling. 

I looked up to the sky in confusion, wondering where the rain was coming from when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky a few minutes ago. Seconds into my staring up into the sky aimlessly the rain got harder, the small drizzling now turning into a full on storm. I sighed heavily, sheathing my blades and secured them behind my back. Seeing that they were secured I hurried over to the daggers that were still embedded in the trunk of the tree. I pulled one out with ease but the second one wouldn’t budge so easily. I pulled as hard as I could but I couldn’t get it out, it felt like it was glued in there. I frowned, grabbing the handle of the dagger with both hands and pulled but it didn’t budge. I grit my teeth and grabbed it as tightly as I could, planting my foot against the trunk and pulled. With the amount of force the blade finally came out but since I was pushing against the tree with so much force I was sent stumbling back, falling back into the now muddy ground. And as I fell to the floor I heard the skies above roar with thunder, lightning striking the ground mere inches from my face. I stared at the ground in shock, my heart beating loudly in my ears, the sound of my heart drowning out the sound of the rain. I scrambled away from the spot the lightning had stuck, my back hitting the tree. 

I didn’t know how long I stayed there just staring at the spot the lightning had stricken but it couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds, another crack of thunder bringing me out of my thoughts. I looked up, frightened that I’d be hit by this next bolt of lightning. I pushed myself away from the tree, stumbling a bit as I looked up towards the sky, my eyes growing wide as bright light shined right above me. But before I could be struck I felt something warm envelope my body, sending me to the floor. I let out a small scream and shut my eyes when the lightning struck the spot I had just been standing in.

“Fucking asshole.” A deep voice growled out above me.

I opened my eyes at the sound of his voice, staring up at the man that was now shielding me from the rain. I stared at him wide eyed, unable to look away from his perfectly sculpted face. He was...gorgeous, he could give any statue any of these artists tried to pass off as the perfect human a run for their money. I’ve seen good looking people before but never like him. He had high cheekbones but they weren’t too high that they took away from the rest of his face. His eyes were that perfect almond shape, eyebrows perfectly shaped and his jawline was so sharp I’m betting I could cut my finger on it. Just as I was losing myself he finally met my gaze, a flush of color rising to my cheeks when his eyes met mine. 

“What the hell are you doing out in the middle of a storm? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Who the hell just stands around waiting to be hit by lightning? Do you have nothing going on in that head of yours or are you just that stupid?” He scolded in a harsh tone, a frown adorning his face.

Yeah, I take everything I said about him being gorgeous back. With a scoff and a roll of my eyes I pushed at his chest roughly, shoving him off of me. He landed on his back next to me with a thud. I sat up and began to rise to my feet when he spoke again.

“What? Cat got your tongue??” He asked, his tone still firm and maybe even harsher than before.

I ignored him and got to my feet, shaking the mud off of me and was about to head back home but I was only able to take a few steps away from him when I felt his hand wrap around my wrist. Without warning he began dragging me with him, I don't know where but I didn’t want to find out.

“What do you think you’re doing!? Let go of me!” I yelled over the rain, struggling against his grip but he was too strong.

I would’ve used the swords I still had strapped on my back but I didn’t really want to have to hear that voice again at this moment. So I kept struggling but no matter how much I struggled his grip wouldn’t let up. He finally let me go when he brought me into a nearby cave, dragging me out of the storm.

“Oh so you can talk, great. Maybe your next words will be ones of gratitude, I did just save your life.” He said in a cocky tone, ruffling his hair with his hand, droplets of water falling to the ground.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” I shot back, taking a step away from him, wanting to make a run for it.

“No, but I gave it to you anyway and help with or without being asked for should be rewarded with a word of thanks.” He said as if lecturing me. 

I stared at him, mouth hanging agape, “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

He seemed stunned by my question, a shadow falling over his eyes as he averted his gaze, “Nobody important.”

Now I was confused. First this man comes out of nowhere in the middle of a storm to save my life only to reprimand me for no good reason. Then he drags me to a nearby cave that I didn’t even know was here and talks to me as if he’s known me my whole life when I barely just met him. Just what is this guy’s deal? I narrowed my eyes and studied his face once more, wondering if I actually did know him. I huffed out a breath, combing back the wet strands of hair that fell over my face. I was grateful for his help but his attitude made me not want to voice my gratitude. So with that I moved to leave the cave and head home, my father must be worried by now. I took one step out of the cave when I felt him grab my hand again. 

I pulled my hand away and pushed him back, my swords now in hand as I faced him, “Touch me again and I’ll cut both your hands off.” I threatened, pointing the blades at him but the second I did my vision went white. 

I groaned at hearing the voice in my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I shook my head to rid myself of the annoying voice that now seemed more distorted than I remembered.

‘You must never fight.’

I stumbled back, slipping on the mud but I managed to stay on my feet. The ringing was getting to be too much, the pain now becoming unbearable. I dropped a sword to bring a hand up to the side of my head, as if doing that would somehow alleviate the pain but it did absolutely nothing.

“Am I not even allowed...to defend myself?” I asked in a choked whisper, knowing the voice wouldn’t respond with an answer to my question, only repeating what I’ve heard so many times before.

‘Never pick up a sword, a shield, a spear, nor a bow and arrow to harm another.’

I cursed, dropping the other sword and cradled my head with both hands as I sank to my knees. The moment I did that the ringing stopped, my vision returning to me. 

-Yeosang’s P.O.V-

I watched as she fell forward, all the strength seeming to leave her body. I took a tentative step towards her, hearing the skies rumble with thunder the second I did. I clenched my hands at my sides, my nails digging into the palms of my hands and drawing blood. The bastard was trying to kill her and now he’s pissed I’m with her in here, just what the fuck is going on in that head of his?

“Ah, fuck it.” I cursed under my breath and quickly went over to her.

I turned her onto her back, relieved to see that she was only unconscious. Without wasting another second I scooped her up into my arms, carrying her deeper into the cave before setting her back down, leaning her back against the wall of the cave. I crouched down in front of her, staring at her face with what others would probably describe as a look mixed with affection and concern. I let out a sigh, reaching out to gently brush the back of my fingers against her cheek.

“I had planned to stay out of your sight but he’s forced my hand. I refuse to let you end up like the others…” I muttered, pulling my hand back to my side as I continued to watch her as she slept soundlessly, “What I did for you was the only good thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. If Zeus wants to use you to get to me then he has another thing coming. I swear to you I will protect you with everything I have, you have my word, as the God of War known as Ares. So long as I live you have my word no harm will come to you. Ever. If anyone dares to go against you I will wreck havoc and chaos upon this world like no one has ever seen before. And that is no mere threat, but a promise.”

I growled out that last part looking up, glaring through the roof of the cave and towards the sky, directing it at the bastard I had the misfortune of calling my father.  

[toffrox]

Voices (Part One)

Summary: In the months preceding Lester & Meg's return to camp, Nico's nightmares begin to worsen. *Spoilers for Tower of Nero*

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Read on Ao3

Nico

Nico woke with a start.

His sword arm lashed out instinctively, though some part of him was conscious enough to recognise that he was in his empty cabin and so he didn't actually summon his sword to his hand. Instead he was left sitting bolt upright, his legs tangled up at the end of the bed and his chest heaving.

He sat still for a few minutes, catching his breath, until he shivered from the sweat cooling on the back of his neck and forced himself to get up.

The voices, through all of this, continued to tumble through his thoughts as if he hadn't woken up at all.

He was getting better at blocking them out now. It had been weeks since he'd heard the first one.

Except that they were getting stronger, Nico thought to himself as he peeled off his pyjama bottoms and stepped into the shower.

Stronger, and more specific.

Something bad is going to happen.

Nico closed his eyes and let the sting of the slightly-too-hot water rush over him, trying to quash the feeling of dread that had begun to form in the pit of his stomach.

Today there was a new voice. A deep, foreboding whisper undulating beneath the other voices.

This one was different to the familiar, apologetic voice of the titan who called out to him in his dreams. The voice was hollow. Cruel.

Nico shivered as he pulled on his cabin shirt and hesitated for a second on his way out the door.

He took a deep breath, then grabbed his sword from where it hung on the wall and attached it to his belt.

At breakfast Nico picked at his food, stomach churning.

Austin and Kayla were chatting animatedly about the comments on Austin's latest video. Nico could barely hear them over the voices so he just sat in silence, pushing food around his plate.

He wished for what must have been the thousandth time that he could speak to Jason, or Hazel. It had been almost five months now with no communication between demigods. To Nico, it felt even longer.

He wondered if maybe he should try going into New York to talk to Percy or Annabeth about this. But no, that would only stress them out.

Speaking of stress…

Nico glanced at Will from the corner of his eye. He had finished eating ages ago but remained at the table, fingers tapping against his cup, eyes trained on Nico.

He hadn't said anything, but Nico knew his boyfriend had been watching him closely these past few days. Sometimes Nico even suspected Will knew about the voices (he had already guessed about the nightmares getting worse). Not that that was a bad thing, really. Nico had already decided what he was going to do.

Nico pretended to be eating until Kayla and Austin finished up their breakfast and left the pavilion. Will told them he would wait until Nico was done before joining them for archery practice.

Nico sat with his shoulders tensed as they left and the instant they were out of earshot Will turned sharply towards him.

"What's wrong?"

Nico sighed. The voices were echoing still. He concentrated and managed to silence most of them, but the one that called his name and the new, dull whisper both remained. He had to tell Will.

"Ok. But you have to promise to take me seriously." Nico said.

"I always take you seriously." Will sounded offended.

"I know you do, I just… I've been hearing voices."

There was a silence in which Nico stared determinedly at the table and Will continued to stare at him.

"What kind of voices?" Will asked slowly.

"Bad voices." Nico huffed. But Will was impervious to his scowls and bad moods by now. Nico heard him draw in a careful breath.

"Voices from the Underworld?"

Nico winced.

"Worse?"

The whispering voice at the back of Nico's head seemed to stretch into a dull roar. He closed his eyes, his expression pained. Will took another breath.

"From… Tartarus?" His voice was gentle, as always, despite the horrifying subject matter.

Nico inclined his head. Yes.

He felt Will shift closer. Nico leaned into him. Will's reached out and put a reassuring hand on Nico's arm.

"Ok." He said unsteadily. "Ok, well it's ok. We're ok."

Nico felt warmth spread through his chest at that. Somehow, after all the awful things Nico had told Will about his past; after all the terrible things Will had gone through himself, Will was always so calm. So reassuring, even when they were both terrified. Will smiled nervously.

"What do the voices say?"

"I…" Nico used his finger to trace patterns on the back of Will's hand as he spoke. "Lots of things… But mostly… Mostly they say that I have to go back."

"Oh, Nico." Will pulled his hand back and instead curled his arms around Nico. It was a slightly uncomfortable position for a hug but Nico pressed his face into Will's shoulder all the same.

"I think they might be right, Will" he whispered. "I think that might be the only way to stop them."

"Hey." Will tightened his grip around Nico. "It's ok. You don't have to go back there" he said soothingly.

"But what if I do?" Nico cringed at the panic in his voice.

"We're not going to worry about that today. Ok?" Will pulled back and took Nico's hands in his. He looked Nico in the eye, steely and determined.

Nico chewed his lip.

"What do you mean?"

The new, whispery voice continued to churn in the back of his mind.

"This isn't a prophecy. This isn't a quest. This is just a voice." Will said. "Let's just take it one day at a time, ok?"

Nico stared into Will's eyes and let himself be reminded of all the things that were good about his life at camp. He counted through them slowly, one by one. Then he squeezed Will's hands back and attempted a smile.

"Ok. I'll try."

-

The voices didn't get any better. And they didn't stop telling him that he should go to Tartarus.

If anything, they were getting worse.

And then there was that feeling of dread.

Not being able to speak to Hazel and his friends on the West Coast became increasingly distressing to him, for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

Will told him that this was perfectly normal.

But Will couldn't hear the voices. Will couldn't feel the mounting panic that was pent up in Nico's chest. Worse with every passing night and constantly reminding him that something bad must be about to happen.

And then, one day, it did.

Nico could barely remember the day now. It was as if it had happened underwater. All the sounds, colours and touches from that day were muted. The way he had screamed. The way Will had held him. The way he had felt in his gut that his instincts were right, even though they had no proof. No way to contact Apollo, or Meg, or Piper.

Hades refused to speak of it. Every time Nico tried to bring it up Nico would find himself unwillingly enveloped in shadow and returned to Cabin Thirteen.

Nico asked Hades about the voices too but this only made his father angry.

"I forbid you from returning to Tartarus." he told Nico darkly.

Still, the voices didn't let up.

Sometimes they spoke to him about Jason. Saying horrible things about how he died and how he would never make it to Elysium.

Other times they would simply act as reminders of all the things Nico hated about himself or the Gods or his own past. They would say he was a terrible friend to Jason. That he was a terrible brother to Bianca. A terrible son. A terrible boyfriend.

-

"I know you're not going to like this." Will said to him one evening when the voices were particularly bad. "But I think you should tell Mr D about this."

"What?" Nico scowled at his boyfriend.

Mr D had returned to camp shortly after Nico had felt Jason's death. He had refused to comment on his extended absence and further refused to say why he had returned, though Will and his siblings felt it had something to do with their father.

"This is Dionysus's Godly domain." Will pressed on. "He's helped with stuff like this before! When the Labyrinth-"

"Tartarus is nothing like the Labyrinth." Nico said darkly.

"I'm not saying it is. I'm saying that he has experience helping campers with their mental health." Will met Nico's glare with look of resolve that was difficult to counter.

Nico said nothing. He hated to admit it, but things had been difficult without the regular contact with his doctor in New Rome, even before the voices and Jason.

Maybe Mr D would help. But the idea of talking to a God about his problems made Nico feel even more nauseous than he usually did these days.

-

The worse the voices became, the more Nico became convinced that the only way to make it stop would be to follow the call of the one voice he properly recognised; Bob.

Will was not so convinced.

"How do you know it's not a trick?" he argued.

This time they were talking about it on their spot by the beach.

"Why would it be a trick?" Nico asked exasperatedly. "What would the ancient Gods of Tartarus possibly have to gain from killing one demigod?"

"We're not having this argument again, Nico." Will sighed.

Will insisted that Nico's death would be hugely valuable in the eyes of Tartarus. Something about Nico being more powerful than other demigods and more important to Hades than he realised. Nico thought that was ridiculous. Nonetheless he decided not to push back against Will this time; it would just make Will upset.

"I really think you should talk to Mr D." Will said for the millionth time.

Nico rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious. He would help you figure out what's real."

Nico tried to dismiss that point but the truth was he knew that not all of what the voices told him was real.

So, one day he made his way up to the Big House to find Mr D.

-

For about a week, things seemed a little better.

Mr D, to Nico's immense surprise, was an extremely attentive listener. He began to check in with Nico most days and invited him to eat meals at the head table with him and Chiron.

In the afternoons he invited Will and Nico up to the big house to play pinochle.

The problem was, that even though his conversations with Mr D were helping, they weren't making Nico any less convinced that he was going to have to return to Tartarus.

He began to look into ways to get back there without Hades knowing.

"What are you doing?" Will asked one evening, when Nico was buried in his newest research.

Will stood in the doorway of Cabin Thirteen.

"Researching." Nico replied, without looking up.

Will shuffled into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Researching what?"

"Transport." Nico flipped over a page in his book. Will came to stand at his shoulder, peering down at the notes. Nico tensed, waiting for his reaction.

"Underground?" Will asked.

Nico turned slightly, his shoulder brushing up against Will's chest as he did so. He looked up at Will and met his eyes, waiting as Will recognised the look on Nico's face and realised his intention.

"No."

Will shook his head. From the way he set his jaw Nico couldn't tell if he was angry or scared. Maybe both.

"I thought Mr D said-"

"Mr D admitted that some of the voices are probably real." Nico said flatly.

"Some." Will repeated. "Not all, Nico."

"Some is enough." Nico glowered. "I need to be ready."

Will opened his mouth and then closed it again. Nico watched carefully as Will seemed to grapple internally for a few moments. Finally he closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose. He dragged a hand through his hair.

"We." Will corrected.

"What?" Nico frowned.

"We need to be ready." Will opened his eyes again and Nico saw that they were set. He looked stubborn. Almost as stubborn as Nico felt.

Nico blinked at him.

"You can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious." Will folded his arms, indignant.

"No." Nico turned back to his research, scowling.

What a ridiculous suggestion. There was absolutely no need for anyone to get dragged into this mess but him. He was the one hearing the voices.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Will's voice came through gritted teeth.

Nico sighed and shoved his notes away. He stood and turned to face his boyfriend. Will's face was uncharacteristically stormy, set in a hard glare.

"This is my fight, Will. I'm the one who has to face this."

"You don't know that. There is no reason why you shouldn't go without help." Will insisted.

"I don't want you to help."

"What do you mean you don't want me to help?" Will's voice crackled dangerously.

"I mean I want you to stay here. At camp. Where it's safe." Nico said. Will rolled his eyes derisively.

"Yeah, well I want that for you too but obviously that's not what you're intending to do. So I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, Will I-"

"You can't go down there alone again, Nico. You can't." Will's voice shook then for the first time. Nico cut off in shock as he realised that Will's blue eyes were suddenly bright with tears. Nico had never seen Will cry before (at something that wasn't just a stupid movie, anyway).

"Will?" Nico was suddenly uncertain. Hesitant.

Will's gaze, though tearful, remained just as stubborn.

"You can't." He repeated.

"Um… right." Nico fumbled, unsure what to say. Panic coursed through him.

This was not how this was supposed to go.

The thought of Will being with him, helping him, in Tartarus was… amazing.

But at the same time Nico was gripped with terror at the thought of losing him. He had already lost so much. He couldn't imagine surviving that. The thought was worse that the idea of returning to Tartarus alone. Much worse.

He grabbed Will's arm and led them clumsily to sit on his bunk. Will did not break his gaze.

"What if…" Nico hesitated, trying desperately to think of a way he could reassure Will, without agreeing to the unthinkable.

"What if I asked someone else to come with me?" he suggested.

Will's resolute look shifted to one of bewilderment.

"Someone else?"

"I could ask Hazel."

Will glared.

"You wouldn't put Hazel through that."

"Then Reyna." Nico persisted.

"Reyna is busy with the legion. And besides, how are you planning to contact anyone at Camp Jupiter anyway?"

"I could talk to Annabeth."

It was difficult for Nico to keep the desperation out of his voice this time. Will raised his eyebrows.

"Seriously? You think she hasn't already got enough to worry about?"

"Percy would go. If I asked him. I know he would."

Nico saw some unfamiliar emotion flicker across Will's face. He pulled back, visibly repelled by Nico's words. Nico felt his insides curl up with guilt.

Will looked away, staring at the ground almost apprehensively.

"You really don't think I can do this, huh?" Will whispered.

"What?"

Nico hadn't expected that. He watched in horror as Will's expression darkened into proper anger. And this time it wasn't anger founded in concern for Nico.

"Do you honestly think so little of me?"

"No!" Nico scrambled to fix it. He reached out for Will but he pulled back. Another thing Nico had never seen him do before. "Will, that's not it at all. You don't know what it's like-"

"I've been through both wars you know." Will's blue eyes flashed dangerously. His voice rose as he spoke. "I've fought in battles. How can you tell me that-"

"Will, it's not the same." Nico interjected. The panic he had felt before at the thought of Will being trapped in Tartarus heightened to the point of physical pain at the sight of Will's anger.

"What, because I didn't have a prophecy?"

Nico watched desperately as Will stood up to glare at him.

"Because I've never been on a quest? Because let me tell you, Nico, I've been healing questing demigods for years now and you and I both know there is zero correlation between whether or not you're on a quest and whether or not you have the ability to look after yourself."

Nico's grip on his own argument was slipping. Instead, as the situation began to spiral away from his control he felt only fear.

"You know, you never went on a quest and you've managed to do a pretty good job at putting yourself in danger without any kind of ability to look after yourself."

"I'm not doubting your ability to look after me, Will." Nico's voice was strained.

"No." Will spoke coldly. "Just my ability to look after myself."

Nico didn't trust himself to say anything. And that, more than anything Nico had said, caused Will's eyes to flash with real hurt. For a moment he was stunned into silence. Then-

"Unbelievable." he breathed. He turned to leave.

"Will, don't go!" Nico jumped up and lunged after him but Will was already opening the door to leave.

Will paused very briefly at the doorway. Silhouetted against the golden sunlight from outside just as he had been when he'd first come in.

He looked at Nico with a dark expression.

"Good luck convincing Percy to come with you." He said.

Then he turned his back again and left the cabin.

[ohmyhera]

Headcanon #7

Imagine these two’s first real Halloween together as a couple

•Okay I feel like the one who surprisingly goes all out for Halloween is Will

•Actually it’s the entire Apollo cabin + some of the Hecate kids, it all starts on October 1st

•Nico walks into the Apollo cabin to greet Will and is very confused by the sound of spooky scary skeletons playing

•There’s only a few of them there, why must it be so loud?

•Will just laughs at his boyfriends confused face and the other campers beg him to summon some skeletons

•Nico does and is even more confused when the Hecate kids make the skeletons start dancing

•A few days later Will realizes that Nico was genuinely confused about the whole thing and starts talking about how Halloween is coming up

•Now Nico doesn’t really know what Halloween is—the boy was raised in 1930’s Italy he was catholic for Pete’s sake—but he kinda just nods along anyways

•No one is better at picking out a liar than an Apollo kid so Will keeps pressing him about it until Nico fesses up to having no idea what the holiday is

•When it finally clicks Will has never felt more stupid in his life, of course Nico wouldn’t know about Halloween

•This sends Will on a frenzy to make sure Nico has the best Halloween ever

•While Nico is out on a mini quest he spends time decorating the Apollo Cabin with fake cobwebs and spiders—he’s already given Annabeth the warning to stay away—and by the time Nico comes back it’s completely Halloweenifed

• “So the orange and black are traditional colors?”

• “Exactly”

•He practically begs Chiron to let them use the tv so he can show Nico the joy of Disney channel original Halloween movies

• “So they’re twin witches, and they just so happen to meet on their birthday?”

• “Don’t judge Disney!”

•And Nico falls in love, they sit there all day swaddled up in blankets and Nico thinks he can actually get behind this holiday

•Until the ugly sweaters

•That is where he draws the line

• “Nico just wear the damn sweater!”

• “You’ll have to kill me first!”

• “Me and Thanatos are good buddies so that can be arranged!”

•Will works something out with Chiron and the other campers so that him and Nico’s duties can be covered because he has something special in mind

• “Must we visit Naomi for every holiday tesoro?”

• “We’re not visiting my mama this time baby, you’ll see”

•Of course they go to visit Naomi first. Whenever Will is in town it’s like her mom senses start tingling and she just knows he’s there. Call it a gift from Apollo.

•Now it’s all fun and games until Naomi and Nico start talking because the two are obsessed with each other and making fun of Will

•They sit on the couch and drink pumpkin spice coffee that Nico just had to try while looking over Will’s old Halloween photos

• “And this is the year he was the sun from the Teletubbies-“

• “Mama stop it!”

•Eventually Will makes up some bs excuse about being in town on demigod business and practically drags Nico from the house

•The two walk for an almost unorthodox amount of time until Nico spots a Ferris Wheel coming into view

• “Is this the reason why I’m not training our kids to rip each other’s heads off?”

• “I-I-yes? Do you like it?”

• “Oh Will, I love it!”

•Then Will has a different problem on his hands

•Nico is an absolute child when he’s left to free range

•He’s never seen the boy have so much energy and it’s actually mind boggling

•He also seems to be an adrenaline Junkie which would be all well and good if Will wasn’t a healer.

• “Baby I don’t think this ride is safe-“

• “I can’t hear you, I’m already in line”

•They finish out the afternoon early because he promised Chiron they’d be back by midnight and Nico needed to rest before they shadowtraveled back

•They ended up back at Naomi’s who’s already waiting with cups of apple cider ready to hear about their demigod business

•Will tried to lie, he really did. But Naomi knew and he immediately cracked under the pressure

•He instead took this as an opportunity to make fun of Nico

• “Mama you should’ve seen him-“

• “Will-“

•“He was off faster than a shotgun at the Kentucky derby!“

•Nico wanted to laugh but he couldn’t help but recognize how similar the two honestly were. They both clapped their hands and stomped their feet as they laughed, it was freaky. He thought Will favored Apollo but maybe it was actually Naomi?

•Once the laugh fest was through and the apple cider was gone, Will gave Nico a few Ambrosia tablets—invention curtesy of the Apollo cabin—and sent him straight upstairs to take a nap

•Naomi immediately grills him on the dark haired boy

• “You love this boy don’t you?”

•“I...Of course I do mama, he’s my boyfriend-“

• “You know what I mean Will”

• “...I’ll tell him when I’m ready”

•The two say their goodbye to Naomi and Will’s heart was pounding the entire way back—or maybe he still wasn’t used to shadow travel—but he would tell Nico

•Halloween finally rolled around and Will surprised Nico with matching skeleton onesies

• “I could make you a skeleton for free”

• “...Is that a threat?”

•The whole camp had gone to the extremes of calling activities off and handing out candy to the younger campers

•Nico was in awe at that

• “You mean I get to eat as much as I want?”

• “As much as you want baby, that’s the beauty in the holiday”

•Once the day was through they decided to go back to the the hades Cabin to turn in for the night

•He had planned to tell Nico but the dark haired beat him too

• “Will I um...I’ve been wanting to tell you that I...I feel very strongly about y-“

• “I love you too Nico, so much”

• “Oh thank gods”

•They spend the rest of the night eating candy and sharing scary stories. will wasn’t sure what he was getting into with this because Nico had stories

•Later in the night when Will was fast asleep Nico couldn’t help but think over the last month and smile

•“Will?”

• “Mmyeah baby?”

• “I love Halloween”

A/n Hey guys I hope you liked this one! Sorry for the long wait, I’ve been real busy with school. If you guys want this in the form of a oneshot I’d actually love to write that because I had a lot of fun writing this one.

[assomoir]

the sky might be falling; but the stars look good on you

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x MC

Summary: A peek into a day of Theo’s life [and a reminder that she had her insecurities sometimes].

Note: Written for the @ikevamp-holiday-exchange​​ ! Hello @ceet​ , I enjoyed writing this (although writing non-smut was a challenge for me), so I really hope you’d like this too :) I saw your tags, so here’s to the both of us being fools for this man.

Title taken from the music of Ólafur Arnalds’ biography.

She slept in his room more often than not these days, and Theo’s morning routine shifted to accommodate her presence.

Between the two of them, he would wake up first. It’s a hard-formed habit carried over from the years before his death; one he sustained for many reasons, but also because she looked softer in the pale gray of dawn. Lights from his chandelier fell on her sleeping form, and he propped himself up as his eyes were inexorably drawn to the way the sheets shaped themselves over her waist, the drape of hair over her breasts, the trail of hickeys blossoming along her body—

She stirred under his gaze, and blinked her eyes open with a yawn.

“Theo..?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back on the pillows, enjoying the way her languid stretches shifted the covers and exposed more skin. “Good morning.”

The patches of red scattered on her neck seemed to call for his touch, because he knew they matched the curve of his teeth – remembered how she tasted on his tongue. When he reached out to touch them, she pressed a string of open-mouthed kisses on his palm, a pleased smile forming on her lips, the echo of flame dancing in her eyes.

(There’s something about her that, when seen in these quiet, intimate twilight hours, felt like something really close to perfection. He’d seen it in the way she lowered her lashes as she bent down for a kiss, or in the way her back arched as he drove her over that maddening edge for the umpteenth time in a night.)

(It still left him breathless every time.)

“…hey,” he half-heartedly asked— no, warned her, if she really wanted to rouse him so early in the morning, when the rasp in her voice is still so clearly audible and the marks she left on his back still tingled.

(He absently looked down to find that her trimmed fingernails had grown longer, and thought about how he would know about it; for he wore the shape of them in various parts across his own body.)

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckled, “but ten more minutes, please?”

Theo hummed in assent, suppressing his smile. Kissed the top of her head and quietly let the fire, simmering low in his stomach, burn.

Most days, they work together. This cloudy Friday was one of those days.

Their only client that noon was an elderly nobleman in his late 50s, a Marquis Theo adored due to his kind disposition and shared appreciation toward the impressionist movement. Negotiations involving two of Vincent's paintings had gone swimmingly well, and as they stepped out of the gates, just before he hailed a carriage to take them home, she grabbed his sleeve and shyly asked if they could, perhaps, go for a stroll around the city? If he would like to have a little date before going back, because she had dressed up in a dress that matched his new suit, which would be wasted if they weren’t paraded around town for a bit, especially since the weather was nice albeit a little cold, and it would do him no harm to slow down because he had always been working hard, and—

"Sure," he said, effectively cutting her off, yet the fond amusement was plain to hear even for himself.

It's going to rain, he thought, glancing up at the sky overhead. We can go tomorrow instead, on our day off. But he went along with her plans anyway, mostly because Theo had stopped trying to tell himself that he still had any semblance of self-control around her months ago.

(That, and something about her had seemed a little sad this morning. It upset him in a way he couldn’t quite understand.)

So she took him to the Louvre, where everything began – saying that despite having visited the place many times over, he still owed her a proper tour of the museum. They ventured into the Assyrian Gallery, walking among creatures of black marbles and gray stones that left them more than a little amused. In the French Gallery, Géricault's Raft of the Medusa stole her attention at once – but when he explained the event depicted behind the painting, she had this extremely sad expression on her face – such that he had to practically drag her into the next gallery, half-panicked, so she wouldn't cry. It worked, though, because the mirror-like floor and gilded ceiling in the Gallery of Apollo fascinated her. They spent the rest of their visit admiring the artworks in Salon Carré: him explaining the Wedding at Cana, Pardo Venus, Soult's Virgin, Titian's Mistress, and them snickering in front of Mona Lisa and la Belle Ferronnieré.

By the time they stepped out of the Louvre, it was already half past three in the afternoon. The chilly November air had gotten even colder; the sky considerably darker.

(But her smile got a little wider, too.)

Expecting the rain to come any time now, he took her to this quaint café-slash-bookstore tucked in the corner of the 1st arrondissement. True enough, the storm started in the middle of their late-afternoon meal – and they watched the passerby bursting into a hurried frenzy all at once. After a little less than an hour it turned into nothing more than a light drizzle, but the streets had turned muddy and her skirt must be hiked up high when crossing Place Vendôme. The rain had not dampened her mood at all, though, for she kept humming happily as they passed through the high column overlooking the square.

“I assume you're no longer sad?”

She blinked at him. Once, twice, before timidly grinned. “I wasn't sad though. Things went smoothly at work, and you’ve been very indulgent today."

"...Has it ever occurred to you that those two things are probably related?"

The tinkle of her laugh filled the air, alongside the scent of petrichor as the shower ceased to an end. Rain had always lent the city some sort of a gloomy mood, but for the first time, Theo took a deep breath and let himself bask in it.

Maybe because somehow, the amber glow of streetlights looked a bit more somber than usual, and it bathed the city in a warm luster despite the crisp atmosphere. Seine was flowing by, where from this distance, they could see the turbulent waters moving below Pont Royal. The hustle of shops lined up on the other side of the street and busy traffic rumbled the sidewalk they were walking on, giving that distinct, noisy bustle he had grown to associate with the city.

She took his arm as they continued walking along the cobblestone, and he was struck quiet by the strange thought of how at home she looked like. As if she belonged right here, in 19th century Paris, all along—

"It's just— I was thinking," she suddenly murmured, "that I've been here for almost a year. Time flew really quickly. I'm still very happy, though."

It was almost imperceptible, the way she turned her head to glance at him – like she did whenever she was unsure about asking him something – but enough for him to press an encouraging kiss on her temple. Go on, he conveyed. I'm listening.

"...I hope you're still happy too, Theo."

Ah.

The faint kaleidoscope on the river was reflected on her eyes not unlike the starlight, and when the following silence stretched for a second too long, his next words slipped out without permission.

"I can promise you, I've never been happier in all my life."

A burst of giggle escaped her. His brain, half-relieved and half-caught off-guard, scrambled for a response, and ended up blurting the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't laugh! I'm serious."

"I know, I know, but it's adorable. You indulged all my wishes because you thought I was sad?"

"...It's because you did great today. That calls for some treats, no?"

She quickly recovered and playfully smacked his shoulder, but he inwardly cringed because it actually hurt. He deserved it, though. "Again! I'm not your puppy."

"Really? But puppies are cute, I love them."

"I'm cuter."

"Well yeah, you are."

She was clearly taken aback by this, and he couldn't help but snort at her flabbergasted expression.

"Theo!"

That evening, he kissed her hard and rough, tangling his fingers in the strands of her hair. I haven’t had dinner, he teased, voice low and tempting, his breath hot on her lips. May I? She couldn’t help but moan then, a hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt, the other pushing his head to her neck. Heat consumed them as he carried her to the bed, prompting him to strip her down and let his body do the talking for the next few hours.

Later, when the high had worn down, he pulled her into his arms – freshly bathed, smelling like roses – and she grew quiet, lulled by the distant thunder and the sound of raindrops. He watched the light playing tricks on her hair, heart softer than the spun silk of her nightgown, and thought—

If I could spend eternity like this—

“Theo, sleep.”

He smirked. “Why is the dog telling me what to do?”

“Because you’re thinking too loudly,” she smiled knowingly, and his own softened. “I love you, you know that?”

Sometimes Theo forgot just how easily she unraveled him in all the ways that counted, leaving him a flustered mess wrapped around her little finger. “…Cheeky hondje. I love you too.”

If he was any lesser man, he’d probably skip all those elaborate, carefully-crafted plan about proposing and just drop on one knee right there and then; the lack of ring be damned. But since he liked to think he still had a teeny bit of restraint (however small) a peck on her forehead was deemed enough, followed by drawing the cover higher over their bodies.

She’s here, he mused before drifting off to sleep. 

For as long as they had each other, he existed only in bliss.

[localminstrel]

Seventeen as members at the Half-Blood Camp

Request : no

Warnings : none

Note : I’ve made a thread on Twitter about Seventeen as sons of greek gods and goddess and i’ve write the beginning of the fanfic with Kpop Idols in the Half-Blood Camp so i was thinking maybe i could do a tumblr post ! I love greek mythology and the Percy Jackson series so, here we go !

Gifs credit to owners !

------

Seungcheol (S.Coups) as son of Hermes (god of trade, heraldy, merchants, commerce, roads, thieves, trickery, sports, travelers and athletes and messenger of the gods)

head counselor of the Hermes cabin

has spend a lot of years at the Half-Blood Camp, one of the oldest members

don’t like going on quests

always have some coins in his pocket

loves to fly

have a pilot licence

have been on several roadtrips alone with his caravan

in good terms with his father

doesn’t see his mother often because she is an globe trotter

Jeonghan as son of Aphrodite (goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, passion and procreation)

everybody in the camp love him

had really long hair but when he was near the horses, they tried to eat it so he cuts his hair short

everybody in the camp was devasted by that

loves french food, especially macarons

always have a little mirror in his pocket (rule of the counselor of the Aphrodite’s cabin - find it dumb)

sometimes, some new Ares’s childen believe he’s weak because of his features and start a duel with him

he always win, because, hey, he’s pretty AND he can kick your asses (basically, every Aphrodite’s childen can do it)

always the first to hug his half brothers and sisters in the morning

his father is a MMA fighter

Joshua (Jisoo) as son of Tyche (goddess of luck, fortune, prosperity and destiny of a city)

every Tyche’s children are lucky but he’s one of the luckiest of them all

he’s not often at the camp, like one or two weeks at summer because he have really huge responsability in the modern world 

like the (huge) compagny where he works always give him the best contracts

he nailed all of it, of course

he is really rich but don’t really care or spoke about it 

works really hard because he didn’t know he was a demi-god until he was 20 yo and keep the habit

don’t talk to his mother often

he hates when someone talks down on his success because, no, it’s not all cause of his mother

the Oracle sees him become President one day (but he don’t know)

his father is a stewart 

Jun (Junhui) as son of Demeter (goddess of the harvest and agriculture)

knows every plants or trees by heart

teachs classes about survive in the forest at the camp

all of the dryads loves him

wishs to be a satyr

when he’s angry (really rare), he causes food to rot

his favourite flower are hydrangeas and he can make them sprout out of nowhere

one of the best players at Capture the Flag

vegan

his father is a landscape architect

Hoshi (Soonyoung) as son of Apollo (god of the sun and light, archery, music, singing and dance, truth, prophecy, healing and diseases, poetry, arts and male beauty)

the best at archery in the whole camp

don’t like electronics things

when he was young, some Hecate’s kids trapped him into an illusion and cause of it, he have the fear of anything who could blurred his perception of reality 

nobody knew about it, expect Chiron

friends with litteraly EVERYBODY

good relation with his father, he once invited him at Mount Olympus 

Apollo is really proud of him because he’s the best dancer among his children 

some rumors in the camp says that his smile could cured any wounds

are in the camp since 12 y.o because his mom is a successful singer and she can’t take him on tours 

Wonwoo as son of Hades (god of the dead and the wealth and king of the Underworld)

young and new members in the camp got scared because he looks at them with angry eyes and walk away

but they learns after that he’s really sweet (and don’t see anything without glasses)

but don’t bother him to much

in fact, outside, he is like the cliché of Hades children (always in black, never smile, look like a vampire)

but inside, he’s just a cutie and his few friends loves him

have a stygian sword (learns to be better at using it)

if you don’t find him sleeping in the Hades cabin, he’s in the library

when he stresses, some jewelry came from the ground but eveybody learns to not care about it or touch it

very popular in the Aphrodite’s cabin

often goes to the Hypnos cabin to fall asleep faster

his mother is a admiral in the Marines

Woozi (Jihoon) as son of Athena ( goddess of wisdom, handicraft and warfare)

always refused to be head counselor 

you never see him outside the library

he eats books, breaths books, sleeps books

ultimate book worm, he reads and write a lots of them

if someone got a problem, they gonna ask him how to fix it because he’s like the knowledge king

loves to give some fake advices to create some chaos (like one day, he tells Dino that, of course, you can put dishwashing liquid in the washing machine)

really, don’t fuck with him

his mother gave him magical glasses to read faster for his 19 birthday

his father is a architect 

DK (Seokmin) as son of Zeus (god of the sky, thunder and king of gods)

when he’s too excited, you can ear thunder

and he’s excited often so everybody is now accustomed

the Zeus’s cabin is quite empty so he asks Chiron if he could have a open roof (but protect with invisible bubble) so he can sleep underneath the sky

loves stars, know everyone of them

biggest dream : go in space

so he’s working to be an astronaut

could pass as dumb (some people who don’t know him in the camp think that) but he’s really smart

try to be lighting strike everytime a storm is around 

his mother is a professionnal broadway dancer

Mingyu as son of Hephaestus (god of fire, metalworking and artisan)

got mistaken as a Apollo’s child everytime because he’s so bright and joyful and people gathers around him all the time

he attracks them like a magnet

his smile made more than one fall (men and women)

love mecanics and scrap

repairs cars everytime

hates electronics

one day, Woozi catches him after the curfew and, for punishement, forced him to repair a bunch of games consoles

It takes him 6 months to fix 3 consoles because he don’t understand electronics

loves to draw, every table in the lunch room had a drawing of him

always got burns because he can’t feel pain from the fire

his mother is a garagist 

The8 (Minghao) as son of Ares (god of the violent war and destruction)

current champion at the most quests done 

spend his time in the armoury

has a collection of helmets

one of the best at swords and axes but his favourite weapon is knuckles

low temper

challenges everyone

got a lot of bruises so he spent a lot of time in Apollo’s cabin

everyone is used to hearing him yell

his mother is a army surgeon

Seungkwan as son of Dionysus (god of the grape-harvest, winemaking and wine, of fertility, ritual madness, religious ecstasy and theatre)

drama queen

he don’t have his almond milk ? drama, his clothes are not iron ? drama, wind mess up his hair ? drama

love fashion

never mess with his food or you gonna face the evil himself

always throws parties for whatever reason (mostly birthdays type because “it’s someone’s birthday in the world at every moment !”)

wine lover

you can ear him and his father talks madly about food for hours

doesn’t like to fight

really good actor so everybody learns to mistrust him

his mother is a oenologist 

Vernon (Hansol) as son of Hecate (goddess of crossroads, entrance-ways, light, magic, witchcraft, knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants, ghosts, necromancy and sorcery)

never sleeps at new moon

his mother gave him a cauldron for this 16 birthday

make potions all the time

and blew up the cabin all the time too

good friends with Jun, they talked about plants often

make members of the camp payed for his tarot session

loves to play around with people saying “i curse you”

quiet but watch everything

his mother was often at home when he was little

his dad is a scientist 

Dino (Chan) as son of Nemesis (goddess of retribution and revenge)

pride embodied

him and The8 always challenge each other 

he have 53 victories for 52 defeats (for now)

before he knows he was a demi-god, he was bullied at school

and he learns it when he was 16, so he get a really huuge revenge

got expelled for a lot of schools

but now, pray for those who search trouble from him

be friend with him and he’s gonna save your guts like his own life

he never kills anyone but... 

he never sees his mother 

want to be a lawyer because he hates liars

had a balance tattoo

his father is a judge 

[sophiexwrites]

A Gift from the Ghost King

Inspired by this awesome headcanon from @give-nico-a-gun, thanks a ton for the inspo! It’s come to be a long-ish one, 2.2k words.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Christianity and needles, but not in the medical context... it’s really just harmless and sweet.

Setting: General Riordanverse/PJOVerse with canon/established Solangelo.

Mentioned couples Christmas sweaters from the shop (link).

Note: because most people recognise American-English more than normal English, I’ve decided to go American this time, like dropping the u when I have to and using ‘sweater’ instead of jumper so that no-one gets confused (fingers crossed I do it properly).

Nico and Will, for all their opposites, had one major thing in common: they were raised Christian. Neither were quite sure why, since their mothers were well aware of the Greek pantheon of gods rather than a monotheistic one, but they supposed their childhood communities wouldn’t have taken sweetly to the change. 

Which meant the emo teen wasn’t focusing on Halloween this October, but on Christmas. Already. What do you get someone who claims to have it all? 

Talking to his friends didn’t help much. Most of them suggested medical equipment or a simple day off; there were even a few jokes about sunscreen that Nico didn’t quite understand. Those of them who knew Will better said they were buying him new arrows, notebooks or trinkets to fit his sunny-surfer-dude aesthetic - those were great ideas but Nico couldn’t copy them. Will knew him well enough to tell whether it was Nico’s idea or not. The pale teen scowled, wondering why he even asked. He was completely stumped. 

Until early November, that is, when Will began to drop hints. Nico only realised it when when his boyfriend convinced him into a store just to look at their collection of couples Christmas sweaters, covered with sickeningly sweet messages and nicknames.

"Aww. look Neeks - this one says ‘Don't go bacon my heart’!" Will laughed a laugh that turned Nico's cheeks to bright red, pointing at the sweater closest to them. It was attached to another one, reading ‘I couldn’t if I fried’, along with a drawing of a fried egg reaching out toward the other’s bacon.

The hints came a few more times before Nico swallowed his pride and decided to learn how to make one from scratch. Why DIY? Because everything Will did for Nico was done himself: from writing and playing his own music (nevermind how Will’s voice was definitely not winning X-Factor material), to the fake Mythomagic set full of realistic depictions of the gods, or the admittedly adorable summertime picnics with more food and baked goods than Nico could ever eat. Nico felt it was time to return the favor, and step one was learning how to knit.

It started clumsy and full of holes. Nico seemed to have a talent for dropping stitches. The section he was working on started too tight, then so loose that it was almost falling apart. After two weeks of constant secret practice, however, along with more YouTube tutorials and undone rows than he was willing to admit, Nico made something basically shaped like clothing. 

But it was just regular, boring clothing. Of course, Nico knew Will would be overjoyed at just that, but this was the first Christmas the couple planned to spend together, at camp. It was time to go big or go home.

Long story short, Nico swallowed his pride again: this time, to ask his step-mother how to embroider. He was met with suspicious glances and wary questions before Persephone began cooing in delight.

“Oh, that’s the cutest thing! Who knew you could be so soft?” She giggled, already rushing around for threads, test fabrics and needles. “Though I suppose you take after your father, he’s secretly a big softie, y’know - now, are we doing patches, appliques, or diving in the deep end and sewing right onto the yarn?” Nico had a rule not to dive into anything, but with Christmas soon approaching he had to learn fast. Somehow, too, he had to keep it a secret from Will. By December 10th, he’d pretended the wide-eyed needles poking out of his cabin floorboards were totally a prank from Cecile, and Hazel definitely left behind the scrap of paper filled with wobbly cursive last time she visited... Will simply hadn’t noticed. Nico was just glad his boyfriend didn’t have time to read what was on the paper before he snatched it away; that would have ruined it all.

Christmas came quickly, fronted by sleepless nights of embroidery and fingers full of pinpricks for Nico. But he was glad to have it done by Christmas Eve, all wrapped and stashed under the black tree in the Hades Cabin. Usually, he would be spending the night alone, but tonight a warm Will-shaped bundle of joy hugged him while they slept. Nico could only hope he would be as happy the next morning.

“Is this one from you?” Will asked, voice quiet with hidden excitement. Nico nodded, too nervous to speak, pulling at his plain hoodie. The wrapping fell away as Will teared and tugged, soon left left cradling a lump of fabric. “This is... beautiful, Nico!” The nervous boy’s chest sagged in relief, smile stealing onto his face as Will threw off the sweater he was wearing and donned the new creation, spinning around in his rush to the nearest mirror.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh Gods, Nico, of course! Did you make this? Thank you so much!” Will held it up before putting it on, gifting Nico with a laugh like soft rain pattering down on a warm summers day as he read the words out loud. “Significant Annoyance? That’s perfect!” Nico laughed with him, glad the nickname was still well-received, as the teen slipped it on.

He was the greatest model Nico could have asked for. A narrow frame showed off the fabric well: a stunning blue, deep and bright at the same time. Nico thought he’d chosen it because it was cheap, but when Will put it on he realised it’s because it matched the doctor's eyes perfectly. The body of it fit well, even if the arms were a little loose, which made Nico glad he hadn’t painstakingly added rows upon rows of purled stitching for a cute pattern or edge. It wouldn’t have been worth the struggle - the embroidered words were centerpiece enough. They spilled across Will’s chest in a haze of silver, grey and white; threads mixed and blended in the way Persephone had learn from Athena herself. The 20 letters had taken ages to get right, but to see them coupled with Will’s pure joy and excitement as he studied them in his reflection made all the effort worth it.

Needless to say, it beat Will’s gift to Nico that Christmas... which may or may not have been a good thing, because Will’s competitive nature soon swarmed up, and he was already making a gift of his own by the New Year.

“Kayla!” He rushed, panting, into the Apollo cabin from the infirmary. “Please tell me you know where I left my other needle?” Will held a lonely knitting needle in his right hand, pointing it at his half-sister.

“Laundry pile.” She replied, waving behind her towards said pile. It was mainly full of denim and orange cotton, but Will managed to extract the pale wooden tool after some digging. “Why, are you making something again?” It had been years since Will had done any knitting, having been taught by Malcolm Pace of the Athena Cabin during Will’s first few weeks at camp, so Kayla had every reason to be curious. 

“Yep.” Will fell onto his bed, after fishing out a ball of yarn from under it. “You know the sweater Nico made me?”

Kayla laughed, sitting up straight. “The one you’ve been wearing almost every day since?” 

“Yeah, I want to make him one too.”

“What, for Christmas next year or something? Are you just going to hand it to him now?” His head was bent too far over his busy fingers to see as she raised an eyebrow at him, but he knew her sass too well. 

“Oh, totally. You know me, just can’t wait to be organised and do everything in advance.” He grinned down at his work, shaking his head slightly with concentration. He didn’t want to drop a stitch, after all. “It’s his birthday on the 28th, I’m going to give it to him then.”

His sister aww-ed in delight, deciding (for once) to leave him be so that he could get it done on time. Will appreciated that, because he had a lot of work to do in the coming month - or, rather, 27 days.

Will certainly worked hard in those four weeks. Between shifts at the infirmary, general camp stuff and counselor responsibilities, he barely had time to himself let alone keep spending enough time with his boyfriend to make everything seem normal and knit him a sweater. Much like Nico had, he considered just buying one ready-made or getting someone else to help him, but he was eager to do it properly. So, it was a relief after sleepless nights and busy days that Will was finally finished with the sweater three days early; only the embroidery left. But Will was tired and had already misspelt half the terms on his latest patient file, so he had to keep it simple.

GHOST KING 👻  He finished, snipping the end of the silver-white thread. Will held it up to Kayla and the light, dusting off any last threads. “What do you think?”

“Ghost King...” Kayla read, a small smile on her face. “With a tiny ghost, too! That’s adorable, Will.” She wandered a little closer, inspecting the gift in the light cast from the sunrise. “You used a template, right? Because you can’t draw, and your handwriting has never been that good.”

“Geez, Kayla, no need to be so harsh.” Will smiled, clearly joking. “Of course I did, it’s got to be perfect for tonight.” It was already Nico’s birthday; Will stayed up all night to finish on time. Kayla knew this and sighed, deciding to make her brother get some rest.

“I’m covering your shift today, you need to sleep before you have your date tonight.” She decided, swinging Will’s bag over her own shoulder and giving his weary face a last look. “Seriously, sleep. I’ll make up some worthy excuse and tell Nico, he’ll understand.” Will protested for only a moment before yawning, and flopping down onto his bunk.  A sleep couldn’t hurt...

He woke up near sunset that day, almost time to meet Nico. It was a rush for him to get ready and properly awake, but he made it to the woods just as the sun disappeared below the horizon. 

“Will!” Nico waved from the edge, a small look of worry on his face. “I was, um... beginning to think you wouldn’t come.” He admitted, and Will felt his face burn in shame for making his boyfriend worry, even a little.

“Of course I’d come, I just slept in all day. Sorry.” He said, and they wandered a little deeper into the woods, searching for the clearing. Nico insisted it was no problem, which made Will feel more at ease. He was still excited, however, to show Nico what he made (the gift was hidden in his bag, with food for the birthday picnic). 

The two made their way into the clearing in content silence, Will secretly itching to see Nico’s reaction to his gift. But he remained as patient as he could, happy to enjoy Nico’s smiles, quiet laughs and stories, enjoying his birthday together in the peaceful way Nico loved. In fact, Will (and Kayla, but she was sworn to secrecy) was the only demigod at camp who knew it was the Italian boy’s birthday - all Nico’s other friends were off in New Rome or the mortal world, after all. It made for far less stress on Nico’s half: he didn’t want random people wishing him a happy birthday all day. No, Nico di Angelo was perfectly joyful to spend the night with his Significant Annoyance under the stars, especially when he surprised him with a gift.

“Here you go.” Will said, presenting a soft package wrapped in black paper with tiny ghosts. The Son of Apollo bought it specially for that, and the remaining roll would stay unused in his cabin except from wrapping Nico’s other gifts: so he was relived to see the other boy smile ever so slightly. 

“Thanks, Will.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t opened it!”

“Okay, okay!” He almost laughed, ripping the paper to reveal an equally dark sweater. “Wow, did you make this?” Will hummed in excited agreement, watching Nico unfold and hold it up to the moonlight. 

“Oh my Gods.” He read the words and for a moment Will thought he was going to hate it. But then Nico laughed - no, giggled -  a clear, pure sound cutting through the crisp air like a knife through cake. “It’s pretty cool, thanks Will.” The compliment wouldn’t seem like much to an outsider, but Will knew it meant a lot. Nico turned to look at the blond with his dark brown eyes, plain and simple in a way Will could get lost in forever. They were creased at the sides as he smiled, a true smile with his eyes that Will enjoyed so much. He looked good, too, with the well-fitting black sweater on, small letters and tiny illustration embroidered on the neckline. 

“Stop staring.” Nico suppressed a smile, going red as his boyfriend shook his head slightly before looking Nico in the eye again.

“Aww, but you look so cute!”

[thelightiningthief]

14

first of all, SORRY that this is coming much later than probably expected!!!! i’m So Bad at writing things in a timely manner

second of all, timelines are....not my strongsuit, so i’m gonna make this idk the summer between botl and tlo so PLEASE bear with me here

chilly summer evenings

Percy lay on the bottom bunk of Cabin 3, staring up at the pictures stuck between the frame and the mattress above him. His arm had already gone numb from propping up his head, but that was the least of his worries.

It was the first of August. The beginning of the month that decided his fate. Well, Percy would be the one making the decision, but it was still the Big Month everyone had been waiting for: the prophecy coming true, the imminent war, Kronos’s impending return in Luke’s body. All of it put a sour taste in his mouth that the fresh sea breeze from the Long Island Sound couldn’t whisk away. It wasn’t like he could do anything right now, though, so why was he still up?

Well, there was one picture in particular that kept drawing his attention: It was him and Annabeth after they’d just won the chariot race together, right before Thalia had been de-tree-ified. The edges of the photograph were frayed from how many times he’d held it in his hands, shoved it into his pockets, and crammed it into whatever small space he could. While it was supposed to be in the Big House on Chiron’s cork board, Percy had asked him if he could hold onto it until the end of the summer. Chiron knew this might be his last summer (hell, it might be the last summer any of them would enjoy), so he relented it to him. Ever since, Percy had stared at it any chance he got, memorizing the happiness it held. A small glimmer of hope.

What he was really looking at, though, the thing that sourced all of that hope in a tiny bottle, was Annabeth’s smile. Percy must have already traced that giant and rare smile a thousand times, practically having imprinted it to the back of his eyelids, but he didn’t think he could ever get sick of it.

Things between them had been... Strange. Good strange! Well, sometimes bad strange... But overall just strange? Did that make sense?

Who was he kidding—nothing made sense anymore. They were on the brink of war for Zeus’s sake! But Annabeth had kissed him before he almost died (for the bajillionth time), but they still hadn’t talked about it. Every time Percy even thought about bringing it up to her, his head felt like cotton and he couldn’t feel his knees. At first, he thought a wood nymph was messing with him, but Grover and Beckendorf both said he was probably just nervous.

They were a lot closer than last summer. But he could say that about any of his friends! Him and Beckendorf had been talking a lot more, too! Most of their talks had to do with Annabeth and Percy’s giant crush on her, but that was besides the point.

Before he could even consider actually turning in for the night, there’s a sharp rap at his door. His body is up with a hand flying to his—oh, right, he’s in boxers. Percy considers his game plan when there’s another knock, a bit more urgent this time. “C’mon, Seaweed Brain! It’s freezing out here!”

His once held breath catches in his throat. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to late nights like this with Annabeth, but it was the first one since everything went down. Since they’d destroyed the Labyrinth. Since he’d practically killed himself. Since she’d kissed him.

“That’s it, I’m just coming in,” she huffed out, clearly annoyed. (Wasn’t the first time, wouldn’t be the last time.) Then Percy’s cabin door was opening right before his eyes to reveal... No one. Just a gust of cold wind that raised goosebumps on his bare skin. He shivered as the door closed just as eerily, and Annabeth finally took off her Yankee’s cap only to punch his arm.

“Ow!” he winced and rubbed the spot. “What was that for?”

“Dude it’s freezing out there, and you were just standing here? Figures,” she rolled her eyes and threw herself onto his scattered bed.

Percy bristled at the slight jab. “Well, sorry! You kind of just dropped in!”

“Excuse me, I came in the front door. And you had more than enough time to put on pants, at least,” she pointed out, covering his lower half with her hands with a giggle.

A harsh blush crept up his cheeks, and he quickly moved to his dresser as she continued to laugh at his embarrassment. He was just buttoning up his jeans when Percy noticed Annabeth was lying back on his bed, mimicking the pose he’d held just ten minutes before. In the dim light from the moon, he could just see a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Where’d you get all these pictures?” she whispered out.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over to the fountain Poseidon had gifted to him. “Uh, all over, I guess? They just kept popping up, and I’d asked Chiron if I could have a few.” He said the last part faster than the rest, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on it.

Annabeth’s head perked up to look at him sideways, her gray eyes a bit wider than they had been a moment prior. She searched his own green ones for an answer to an unasked question. It wasn’t difficult for Percy to feel as though he were being scrutinized and start to feel self conscious about the whole situation. Was she seeing right through him?

“What? I just—I just wanted the memories, I guess,” he mumbled out, crossing his arms semi-defensively.

She peered up at him for longer, her eyebrows coming down slowly yet decisively. He didn’t know if he should say something, but he didn’t even know where to start. Yeah, I’ve pretty much collected pictures of us to stare at late at night, because I kinda really like you. In fact, you caught me in the middle of doing that tonight! Ha! Great timing, by the way. Gods, that’d just be weird!

Suddenly, she was up and dragging him by the arm out the door of his cabin. “Let’s go, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy barely had enough time to snatch his blanket from the bed before they were thrust out into the chilly evening air. There was no need to worry about harpies with impending war, but Apollo and Artemis seriously needed to work something out, because it felt completely unprecedented to be this cold at the beginning of August. His teeth were chattering by the time Annabeth had plopped herself down on the sand of the beach, dragging him down with her; she took the blanket clenched in his freezing fists and worked determinedly to wrap them both within it.

After a moment of simply basking in the sudden warmth, Percy became uncomfortably aware of how close he was to Annabeth. To make matters worse, if he scooched even a little to his right, the blanket would completely relent and let in that frigid sea air. So, he sat perfectly still, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“You okay, Perce? We can go back if you want,” she said with a slight twinge in her voice that made him look at her for what felt like the first time that night.

Her hair was glowing in the moonlight, silver as if she had joined the Hunters, yet still that bright golden ray of light Percy was so accustomed to seeing a dirty blonde after weeks on a quest. The gray streak that matched his own was tucked behind her ear, and a reminder of a time of longing that he’d rather forget. It was difficult to see in just moonlight, but he could definitely tell her cheeks were flushed, especially with all the staring he was doing at her. In all honesty, it felt as if he were studying a painting. A splash of freckles and a few stray zits were scattered across her face, like brush strokes to a canvas.

However, it was her eyes that made him see the true meaning behind the work. People may call Percy dumb, but there was no mistaking the trust Annabeth was pouring into her downturned, storm-cloud eyes. They were focused so forcedly on his own, that he couldn’t help but come back to them each time he attempted to look at the rest of her face. It took him by surprise, because how could she trust someone like him so wholeheartedly? He’d nearly gotten her killed too many times—at some points he had almost been the one to do it.

“How can you do that?” he asked, looking out to the waves crashing on shore and breaking the trance that was Annabeth.

She had been leaning in just slightly, but jerked back just as much once he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Blinking slowly, Annabeth narrowed her eyes. “What d’you mean?”

He sighed almost exasperatedly, but it was too halfhearted to get anywhere. The next set of waves crashed a little harder than before. “I mean, how can you look at me like I’ll never do anything to hurt you? Like I’m not—not about to decide the fate of the world? Not about to destroy everything just by existing? St. Helen wasn’t even me trying, Annabeth. What else am I capable of?”

There was silence. As silent as it could get with a heavily breathing boy on a beach with a girl looking at him with that kind of look so full of something that everything has to be quiet, just for the time being.

“Percy...” Annabeth started, quieter than the now-swirling sea, “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

His eyes found hers again, both of their eyebrows knit together like the sweaters they’d wished they brought. Again, Percy was so aware of her warmth seeping into him, keeping him present. “Why wouldn’t you be?” His soft voice carried itself to span the few inches between them, once more holding the weight of the world in their midst.

For a second, Annabeth looked as though she was going to laugh, but decided against it. At first, it could be brushed off as a ridiculous thought, but she knew what Percy was capable of right now—what about when he grew more fully into his powers? She shook her head, No, not even then.

“Percy.” She said his name more resolutely this time, placing her hand on his shoulder to turn him towards her. “You may have power none of us will ever know, but...you’re you. It’s not like you’re some evil mastermind plotting against us.”

A single, unsaid name hung in the air.

“How do you know, though? You’ve heard the prophecy.” Percy’s eyes were searching her own again, looking for some hint of doubt.

Annabeth sighed sadly, letting go of his shoulder and pulling him into her arms. “Because—‘Cause the Percy I know wouldn’t destroy a world with his mom in it. The Percy I know wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose.” She took a cold breath, smoothing her hand on his back. “And the Percy I know wouldn’t let some stupid prophecy try to stop him from protecting the people he loves.”

Percy stayed still, frozen, but not from the midnight air. “How do you know I’m that Percy still?” The whisper was slightly muffled from Annabeth’s curly hair, but she’d heard him all the same, as signaled by her hand stopping in the middle of its up and down motion.

“I just know.” And it was said with the finality only a daughter of Athena could possess, could hold within her, and could throw back at someone whenever they questioned her.

It was no use for Percy to fight it anymore, so he finally, finally, finally relaxed into her arms, pulling his own around her. The waves slowed on the beach, taking to being pulled by the moon once again. And, for once, they simply sat there, surrounded by a now-sandy blanket that he’d probably have to wash the next morning and an unrelenting breeze that hardly bothered them. Sure, in two weeks time Percy would most likely be dying at the foot of a crumbled Olympus, but he couldn’t worry about that with the cool sea air filling his lungs and Annabeth’s calloused hand rubbing circles into his back. No, that could wait with the blanket.

[lukatheselkie]

HMC - “I’ve missed you. But it seems like you’re not happy to see me.”

@hetaliamondaychallenge

Pairing: England x OC (Wisp)

Warnings: Non-consensual touching/nipping

Some info about the OC I used here! He’s a fae; more specifically, half Ghillie Dhu and half Pixie. I did extensive research and I am being as respectful as I can every time I write him. He’s lived in a birch forest his entire life, though he was discovered by the nations when he was very young. They took him into their care since he’s an orphan, and even though he lives in a birch forest in Scotland now, they still visit and sometimes take him home for a visit. His home is in the forest though. This mentions bows; Lichtenstein gifts him bows, and he absolutely loves them. Some of the others have taken up this habit, so he has an arrangement of bows. Most of the time there’s more bow than hair to be seen. If anyone wants to learn more about him, here’s a link to his form! My profile pic is one of my favourite PiCrews of him.

    Wisp lifts his head up when the sounds of the forest around him get quieter. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s there. He had been splashing in the creek near where he sleeps at night, waiting for his bows to be cleaned. The sudden change in atmosphere warrants his attention though, so he grabs his bows out of the water and places them on a nearby rock. He sniffs the air, and frowns at the unfamiliar scent. Who could be visiting him? He clips the bows back into his hair, not wanting to go anywhere without them, and makes his way through the trees silently.

    Wisp lifts his head up when the sounds of the forest around him get quieter. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s there. He had been splashing in the creek near where he sleeps at night, waiting for his bows to be cleaned. The sudden change in atmosphere warrants his attention though, so he grabs his bows out of the water and places them on a nearby rock. He sniffs the air, and frowns at the unfamiliar scent. Who could be visiting him? He clips the bows back into his hair, not wanting to go anywhere without them, and makes his way through the trees silently.

    When he gets to the edge of the forest he camouflages himself, just in case. Usually an unfamiliar scent means fae hunter, but not always. It’s dusk, so it’s unlikely the person is a child. But if they are, he has to get to them before anything else does. A bit of water falls into his eyes, and he wipes frantically at it. He should have shaken off his bows! It’s too late now; doing so would surely draw attention. He sniffs at the air again, and follows the scent a few meters to his right. He sighs in relief when he sees Arthur, but it’s short-lived. He un-camouflages himself and stamps over to him, albeit still within the tree line. “Arthur!”

    “Wisp!” A smile lights up his face. It’s been a long time since he’s seen that smile, but it doesn’t make him any less upset. Arthur pauses when he sees the frown on the fae’s face. “I’ve missed you. But it seems like you’re not happy to see me.” Wisp bristles angrily.

    “One-twenty! One-twenty days! No Arthur! Been gone! One-twenty days!” Arthur sighs heavily. “Wisp angry! Been long!” He looks around for something to throw at Arthur, but doesn't find anything that won’t hurt him. Another drop of water falls into his eye, reminding him of the bows. He yanks off the orange one Arthur brought him last time they saw each other, and throws it at him. “Why!? Why long!?” Arthur sighs again, picking up the wet bow and turning it over in his hands a few times.

    “I absolutely deserved that. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s what happened. I brought you a gift.” Wisp doesn’t stop frowning. He doesn’t even perk up at the mention of a gift. “What’s wrong?” Arthur steps closer. “Are you that upset? I’m sorry. I’ll try to visit every month, if that will make you happy.” He furrows his brows. “A month is thirty days, more or less. Who taught you how to count, anyway?”

    “Natalia.” He answers immediately.

    “Ah. Has she been by a lot?”

    “Every seven day. That week, she says.” Arthur nods.

    “Yes, that is a week. Do you know how long I was gone, then?” Wisp scrunches up his nose in concentration.

    “Four month.” Arthur nods. Wisp smiles brightly, and hops around excitedly. “Got right! Got right!” He giggles happily. “Got right, Arthur!” He turns to him, and freezes when he catches his scent again.

    “There’s something else wrong. You don’t ever frown. What’s wrong?”

    “Smell different.” Arthur visibly relaxes.

    “Is that all? Thank goodness. I thought it was something serious.”

    “Is serious! Why smell different!?” Arthur holds up the hand without the bow in it.

    “Alright, alright. It’s either my coat or my cologne. Christmas passed while I was gone and-”

    “Chris… mas?” Arthur stares at him for a long moment.

    “I forgot you don’t know what that is. It’s easy to take things for granted, I suppose. To put it short, it’s a celebration of friends and family. We get each other gifts and spend time together.” Wisp brings his hand up to the bows in his hair.

    “Christmas all time for Wisp.” He smiles fondly at the memories of receiving the bows, and spending time with the people that had given them to him after. Normally, he makes something for them as a thank you.

    “You could say that. But it’s on a certain day.” Wisp frowns deeply. “The sentiment is still there though!” Arthur rushes to say, not wanting to see him sad. “Speaking of sentiment, will you open your gift now?” He tugs a small present out of his coat pocket. “It has wrapping on it. You’ll have to tear it off first. Gently.” He knows how the fae is. Unless told to be gentle, he’s not. That could damage the gift, especially with his long nails.

    “Still angry smell different.” Arthur laughs quietly.

    “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Did I scare you?” He nods, sulking. “My apologies. But you know it now, right? I’ll try not to return with the smell, but if I do you don’t have to worry again.” Wisp bows his head and kicks at the ground.

    “...Like smell.” Arthur has to hold back his grin. He holds out the gift and his bow. He takes them, sticks the bow back in his hair, and pokes at the wrapping paper on the gift.

    “My hands are freezing from the water on your bow. How do you handle it? Do you need some blankets?”

    “No. Wisp fine! Warm. Not sure why.”

    “You might be able to regulate your temperature. I’ll ask Gwen when I see her next.” Wisp perks up at the mention of the doctor.

    “Gwen! Wanna see Gwen!” He wiggles excitedly.

    “I’ll tell her, I promise.” Wisp nods, and focuses on the gift in his hand again. He tugs at the wrapping paper, and holds each piece out to Arthur when he pulls them off. He tilts his head when he sees something shiny in the air pocket. “It’s a necklace. I made sure it’s long enough to pull on and off, so if it gets snagged on something it won’t hurt you. It’s strong, too, so it shouldn’t break. But if it does, I can have it repaired. I-I hope you like it.” He feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and turns away. Wisp grabs the shiny chain and pulls it over his head, looking down at it happily. It’s off-white, and there’s something hanging on it. He grabs the hanging thing, and brings it up to his nose to look at. It’s a shiny birch leaf, attached to the chain by something the same colour as the necklace.

    “Pretty! Thank!” He runs out of the forest, knocking into Arthur. They tumble onto the ground, Wisp nipping at his cheeks and ears. “Thank! Thank thank thank!”

    “Alright, alright! You don’t have to say it so much!” He laughs breathlessly. “I’m glad you like it.” He turns his head in an attempt to hide his deepening blush, but it gives Wisp better access to his ear. He grunts quietly when he bites down hard enough he knows it’s going to leave a bruise. “Wisp, please. You’re too excited again.” The fae scrambles off Arthur, stumbling over his apology.

    “S… Ap… So so… Apollo…” Arthur pulls him into a hug so he’ll stop. Wisp cuddles into him with a sigh of content. “Sorry,” he mumbles out, closing his eyes. “Thank for gift. Necklace. Very pretty. Love.” Arthur kisses his temple, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. He should just tell Wisp he loves him. But he has no idea if the man knows what romantic love is. He should start there.     “I’m glad you like it. I have a serious question for you though.” He tilts his head to show he’s listening. “Do you know what romantic love is?” He nods.

    “Natalia taught.”

    “You two are close. Why did she teach you?”

    “So Wisp could find someone!” He seems proud of his words. “Someone pretty. Kind. Sweet. Loving. Someone that let Wisp be Wisp. Not upset. Someone that can take Wisp hyperness! Not get tired it. Someone…” He frowns deeply. “No word! No word!!!” Arthur pins his arms to his side.

    “Calm down. Please. I know you get aggravated when you can’t find a word for something, but please don’t. Not today. Not here. If we were in your forest, maybe, but not outside.” Wisp takes a few deep breaths.

    “Arthur right. Dangerous outside forest. Dangerous not house.” He nuzzles him, then licks his cheek.

    “I do wish you would at least warn me before you do that. I know you’re struggling with the concept of consent, but you can at least warn us. Please.”

    “Wisp try! Sorry.” He hangs his head. Arthur watches him for a long moment.

    “Don’t look so sad. Just keep it in mind for next time.” Wisp nods frantically.

    “Will!” He looks up and smiles at Arthur.

    “Your hair is an absolute mess.” He smoothes out the damp strands, shaking his head. “Were you washing your bows? I’m sorry I interrupted.”

    “Fine!” He giggles. “Nice see!” Arthur’s heart thumps at his cute expression.

    “Have you found the person you think Natalia was talking about?” Wisp shakes his head slowly.

    “Maybe… Don’t know…” He scrunches up his nose and brows.

    “If you have someone in mind, do you mind telling me who?” Instead of saying something, Wisp just points at him. “Me?” He nods sheepishly. Arthur can’t help but smile. “I had you in mind too.” Wisp lets out a happy puff of air through his nose.

    “Yay!” He giggles, and hops up to bounce around excitedly. “Love Arthur! Arthur love back!” He bounds around the Brit, who’s still on the ground. “Oh! Can date!?”

    “How do you know that word?”

    “Natalia show movie! Many! Know kiss too. Can kiss?” Arthur bows his head to hide his blush. Wisp crawls into his lap to look at his face, worrying that he may have upset him.

    “Yes, we can kiss,” he practically whispers. Wisp hums happily, and presses his lips to Arthur’s. The kiss is sloppy, and a bit too smiley, but it’s absolutely perfect to him.

[mastrmiscellaneous]

PJO OC Profiles

I have no where else to put these, so here:

Name: Justin Colby Peters

Godly Parent: Apollo

Family: Diana Peter (mother), Lucille Peters (younger sister), Marilyn Peters (grandmother), Clara Bones (friend/partner)

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: White American

Birthday: 4th May, 1997

Age: 24 (first went to camp at 11)

Height: 6’

Build: slim, athletic, broad shoulders and strong arms from archery

Hair: golden blond, ear length comb over favouring the left

Eyes: Ice Blue

Skin/Complexion: Justin has pale white skin, mostly untouched by wounds or marks. until he came to camp, and he earned small scars from training. When he turned 15, he was attacked by the Nemean Lion and lost his left leg, as well as earning many scars from his teeth and claws.

Skills: Archery, music (guitar and wind instruments), cooking,

Special abilities: deadly accuracy. Justin is the plague bringer; his powers being derived from Apollo’s plague powers. He can make anyone sick in many levels with a thought, ranging from sneezing fits to something much more deadly.

Job(s):

Music     teacher

instrument     repair

Weapon(s):

Dagger

Bow     and arrows: Horse bow, pine arrows with grey and red fletching

Attire:

Camp Half-blood shirt

Blue varsity Jacket

Either blue jeans, or blue basketball shorts

blue converse

Bio: Justin was born in a small town outside St Cloud, Minnesota, and was raised by single mother, Diana Peters, and his grandmother, Marilyn. Diana worked as a musical instrument builder and repair person. She owns a workshop (Muse’s Sound), and lives on the apartment above the shop. Justin grew up making music with his mother, learning guitar and flute. When he was three, Diana met another man, and a few months later, his little sister, Lucille, was born. He protected her from that day on.

Eventually, Justin started noticing he was different, for more reasons than just his Dyslexia. When he was getting picked on, and the bullies started feeling ill whenever they upset him. It always seemed to link to what Justin was thinking about. He struggled to come to terms with this magic, but eventually learnt to control it. he only ever made one fatal mistake.

He went to Camp Half-Blood age 11, taken there by his mother, when monster attacks started happening every day for a few weeks. He was left at camp with Lucille, and clamed that very same night. This is where he met Clara Bones, with whom he became fast friends, and eventually lovers.

Aged 15, Justin and Lucille bumped into Hephaestus, Lucille’s father, who sent them on a mission to collect some of the Nemean Lion’s mane for experimentation. During the fight, the Lion clamped his jaws around Justin’s left leg and thrashed him around. Justin woke up a day later in Hephaestus’ forge, being cared for by Apollo. Apollo had not been able to save his leg, but healed the wound over, just inter his knee joint. Hephaestus and Lucille build Justin a celestial bronze prosthetic, that he uses with complete pride.

Name: Lucille Marilyn Peters

Godly Parent: Hephaestus

Family: Diana Peter (mother), Justin Peters (older brother), Marilyn Peters (grandmother), Clara Bones (friend)

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: White American

Birthday: 11th November, 2000

Age: 21 (first went to camp at 8)

Height: 5’6

Build: strong, with broad shoulders and thick arms. Lucille does not have a traditionally feminine form, with a bigger waist and generally broad physique.

Hair: shining bronze. Cut neatly halfway down her neck, parted to the right.

Eyes: copper brown

Skin/Complexion: honey tanned skin, darker than Justin, making it hard to believe they are siblings. She has small scars dotting her body from training and building things. her hands are covered in huge, ugly (her word, no one else’s) birthmarks, coloured startling red and spotted with pale marks.

Skills: Music (Piano), electrics and forge work, engineering

Special abilities: electric/machine sensing (can track electrical signals and sense how they work)

Job(s):

NASA     engineer

instrument repair (growing up)

Weapon(s):

Leaf shaped dagger:

Celestial bronze hammer

Attire:

Camp Half-Blood shirt (on occasion)

Dark brown woollen jumper

Black ¾ jean shorts

Brown leather boots

Brown leather gloves

Welders goggles

Brown and red worker’s belt

 Bio:

Lucille was born when her older brother, Justin, was 3 years old. She appeared to struggle a lot growing up with colour and identification. She was diagnosed with Protanopia type red-green colour blindness when she was 5. She was also diagnosed with ADHD at 6 years old.

 Lucille loved creating from the moment she could hold thongs. She helped her mother repair instruments on her workshop form a young age, and was trusted to do it on her own when she was 10.

 She went to camp aged 8, had a terrible first night as she had to sleep on the floor of the Hermes cabin away from her brother, as he had been claimed, but she had not. Luckily, she was comforted by Clara, and was claimed by Hephaestus the next day at breakfast. She thrived in the forge, and loved building things with her siblings, but still struggled because of her colour-blindness. Luckily, the Hephaestus kids were kind and sorted tools and materials with labels saying what they were.

 When Lucille went on a quest for her father with Justin when she was 12, going after the Nemean Lion, she managed to grab enough some mane hair for Hephaestus. As a reward, the god of the forge made her welding goggles that corrected her vision, allowing her to see the whole spectrum of colours. She cried when she saw them for the first time. Now she wears her goggles around her neck everywhere she goes, just in case she needs them.

Name: Clara Atalanta  Ostá

Godly Parent: Hades

Family: Clio Ostá (mother), Justin Peters (friend/boyfriend), Lucille Peters (friend)

Nationality: American, Greek

Ethnicity: Greek (Athenian)

Birthday: 12th January, 1997

Age: 24 (10 when first went to camp, claimed at 17)

Height: 5’9”

Build: slim and athletic, gymnast physique

Hair: dark brown, straight and long, parted favouring the right. She dyed it blue after she was claimed, because she said it was referencing Hades from the Disney film, which annoyed Hades

Eyes: Icy blue

Skin/Complexion: dark chestnut brown skin. She has the least amount of scars between her friends, as she was a year round camper, and not allowed to go on quests until she was claimed.

Skills: expert swordsman, cooking, drawing, writing

Special abilities: Clara has powers over darkness and shadows. She can shadow travel long distances without passing out. She can summon a dark mist to cloak her surrounding area, and pull shadows and darkness to encase her surrounding area. When she uses this power, everyone around loses their vision, unless she waves her hands in front of their face.

Job(s):

Librarian

Home-school Teacher 

Guardian of Athens

Weapon(s):

Celestial Bronze Spartan style short sword

Attire:

Camp Half-Blood shirt

Grey woollen jumper

Black jeans

 Black leather boots

Bio:

Clara was born in Athens to single mother Clio Ostá, a Literature and History researcher for the University of Athens. As Clara grew up, her mother slowly became more and more paranoid after her exploits as a Guardian of Athens and the exposure to Clara’s power set, filling their home with protection symbols from Greek and Rome tradition, mostly Greek. Her paranoia forced her to move away from Greece, as she rightfully feared the ancient stories and monsters were coming for her and her child. Clio uprooted her small family when Clara was 7yrs old, and moved them to a small town in the middle of Maine, getting a job in the Classics department in the University of Maine. However, her paranoia continued to grow, and life at home was no longer an option for Clara.

When she was 10, Clara ran away after being sent a note from an unknown sender about a safe place for people like her. The note led her to Cam Half-Blood, where she stayed year round until she was claimed at 15. Through these five years, she calls home every so often to tell her mother she is safe.

[justfandomwritings]

Urban Legends (Part One - Chris Beck)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: i don’t think any apply.

Summary: (Y/n) Watney was something of an urban legend at NASA. Commander of the Ares I mission, (Y/n) was the first human to set foot on another planet. She heard names like Neil Armstrong and smirked. She was on her way to being the most famous astronaut in history, and she was determined to bring her brother along for the ride. She recommended Mark to Vincent Kapoor. She helped him get on the Ares III mission to Mars.

Her brother was stuck on Mars because of her, and she was determined to bring him home. 

After all, if he was the first human to die on another planet that would thoroughly steal her thunder; and she couldn’t have that.

Notes: This story is being simultaneously posted to AO3 as an OC story if you’d prefer to find that version. Also of note, Beck won’t be in the first few chapters, but I promise its coming.

There’s an urban legend about NASA.

In the 60s, the Soviet Union and the United States were deep into what is now called the Space Race. When the Soviets launched Sputnik 1, the first manmade satellite, Americans were wracked with panic. If the Soviet Union could launch a radio satellite into orbit around the Earth, who’s to say they couldn’t launch a gun?

The space program, NASA, became every Americans top priority. It was a nuclear deterrent, as well as a matter of national pride. If the Soviets had satellites in space hovering over American soil, then America needed satellites in space over Soviet soil. But America couldn’t just equal the Soviet Union; America needed to beat the Soviet Union.

When the first astronauts went into space, Soviet-born Yuri Gagarin beating out American-born Alan Shepard by less than a month for the honor of being the first man in space, they encountered a dilemma.

The ballpoint pen was pattented in the United Kingdom during 1938 as an alternative to the dip pen. It was a simple design. The new pen utilized a cartridge of ink attached to a metal ball over which the ink rolled out, allowing the user to write. There was only one problem. The ink was drawn down and fed out of the cartridge over the ball by nothing but the force of gravity. Meaning, in space, there was nothing to draw out the ink; leaving all modern pens effectively useless.

The United States invested $12 million of its funding into designing a pen that would function in zero gravity.

The Soviets just used pencils.

The truth isn’t quite as amusing as the legend, but it isn’t far off either.

When the United States realized that ballpoint pens were effectively rendered useless by zero gravity, they contracted a company called Tycam Engineering to order a set of 34 mechanical pencils for their next mission. Tycam Engineering charged NASA $4,382… for 34 mechanical pencils. After extensive criticism from the public and within their own departments about the wasteful spending, NASA canceled their order.

The Americans just used pencils.

Eventually, in the late 60s, a privately owned firm called Fisher Pen Company would indeed design a pen that worked in zero gravity. It became known as the Fisher Space Pen. The pen replaced the usual pull of gravity by installing a pressurized ink cartridge that functioned in any environment.

NASA paid $6 per pen for the privilege of writing in ink.

The Soviets paid $8.  

(Y/n) tapped her Fisher Space Pen against the edge of her desk.

The amount of work that had been put into this moment, put into her sitting here now, was incalculable. Sure, she could add up the amount of hours she’d put in training. She could find out the amount of time she’d spent out on missions. She could factor in time doing research for her thesis or working on related projects. She could even calculate the opportunity cost of lost wages elsewhere in her field. None of it would give a definitive answer, though.

This moment was so much bigger than her effort and her work, and nothing symbolized that more than her pen. It had a history that went well past her, well past Alan Shepard, well past NASA. This pen spanned the Ares Mission, the International Space Station, Project Apollo, Project Gemini. Every astronaut before her had held one of these pens. The minds at Fisher Pen Company had put hundreds of hours and millions of dollars into designing it, and they had built their work on the minds that came before them.

The Fisher Pen Company could not have pressurized the pen cartridge if countless men and women before them had not perfected the cartridge pen’s design, if the Biro brothers who patented the first ballpoint pen in 1938 had not thought to innovate on the dip pen.

The giants of every field today rested on the shoulders of those who came before, and the Fisher Space Pen was no exception. (Y/n) was no exception.

It might be a bit of a stretch to call Fisher Space Pen a giant, but (Y/n) was self aware enough to know that she, in fact, was a giant.

(Y/n) twisted off the pen cap and set it aside with a deep breath. Eight years ago, in 2027, (Y/n) had picked up the very same pen and signed her name to a contract, and now she was doing it again. She couldn’t decide if she was more impressed that she was back in the chair or that she’d managed to keep track of one pen for eight years.

“You understand the full personal, professional, and legal ramifications of the contract you are about to sign, Miss Watney?”

(Y/n) looked up at NASA’s in-house attorney sitting across from her. He was a feeble man with a bald patch slightly to the right of center atop his head that perfectly matched the shape of the Tycho lunar crater, right down to the tiny tuft of hair that coincided with the peak at its center. They had only met once before, eight years ago, and understandably she didn’t remember him very well.

Back then, he had given her a full lecture, two hours long, about the document she was signing, the commitment it entailed. He’d clearly gone lax this time around. Perhaps he wrongly assumed she remembered any of what he’d said. 

She couldn’t even recall his name when she first walked in the door minutes before. Back in 2027, she was practically shaking with the anticipation of putting her name on the dotted line. Back then, he was all that was standing between her and Mars. How could she be expected to pay attention.

“Don’t worry about me, Mr. Levinson.” (Y/n) falsely assured him. “I know what I’m getting myself into. I’ve been here before.”

“That you have,” Mr. Levinson wheezed out a laugh. “I was excited when they told me you would be leading this new program. It’s always good to see some familiar faces on the cover of my cereal box.”

(Y/n) chuckled to herself. Her brother had given her hell for those cereal boxes. Whenever NASA forwarded her inbox along to the Hermes, there were always a handful pictures of Mark with the cereal box strategically placed in various spots (Y/n) should have been. 

Her birthday? He put it on the table with a cake in front of it. Family beach trip? He covered it in sunscreen and set it in the sand. Dad’s retirement party? He brought it along to a black tie event tucked under his arm. Mark somehow managed to talk some of the techies into letting him put the box in the seat next to him while he did his takeoff simulations. He even took the stupid thing as one of his personal items into his isolation chamber for 10 days. 

Gem that he was, Mitch Henderson had sent along the video of Mark talking to the picture of her on the cereal box cover because, as Mark explained, ‘What? I got bored of talking to myself.’

(Y/n)’s eyes scanned over the contract. She wasn’t really reading it. Mr. Levinson knew that, but she needed to pretend for the sake of protocol. “The cereal box was all Annie. She thinks putting us out there in the public eye will increase awareness of NASA programs, and increased funding will follow.”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Mr. Levinson hedged. “It might be good for kids to have successful, intelligent role models for once.”

Role models. They’d certainly tried to make (Y/n) into one of those. Weeks upon weeks of PR training. It was worse than the actual astronaut program! 

...That was probably an exaggeration, but it felt like it.

(Y/n) was the Commander of her mission, the face of the team. A face that was  everywhere, and not just for the moment. A face that wouldn’t just be in history books, but would be on the covers of them. 

A face that Annie refused to see dropping the f-bomb during any of the over 100 interviews (Y/n) had been expected to do before take off and certainly not during any of the countless hundred she had done since her return.

(Y/n)’s pen paused over the line she was supposed to sign, and a smirk tugged at her lips. “Wait, you were eating the kid’s cereal?”

Mr. Levinson spluttered for a moment, but his embarrassment was saved by the door bursting open.

“Mitch?” Mr. Levinson questioned.

(Y/n) turned when she heard Mr. Levinson say the name. The Hermes Flight Director stood in the office doorway looking absolutely terrified.

A cold chill ran up her spine. He didn’t need to say anything. Mitch’s eyes did all the talking, and she shoved away from Levinson’s desk, ignoring as the lawyer shouted, “Miss Watney, we’re not done here.”

Mitch led her through the halls down into the control room where the usually mild-mannered scientists were in frenzy.

(Y/n) didn’t frequent the NASA control room. Her eight years in the program had mostly been spent in training facilities or research labs, but she’d met the staff working the room before. She knew procedure well enough to know that this was unusual, and something was going very wrong.

“What’s going on, Mitch.” Her tone left no room for questioning.

“We had to scrap the mission earlier today. The winds got too strong. MAV was tipping.”

(Y/n) narrowed in on the readouts scrolling up the side of the screen. The wind speed was far too high. “Have they left the surface yet?”

“They haven’t yet, and the last updates from the communications system indicate the MAV was tilting too far. They were running out of…” Mitch never got to finish explaining the situation to (Y/n).

A crackly voice came over the loud speaker, indicating a transmission from Hermes to mission control. “Hermes, this is Commander Lewis. We have successfully docked the MAV and are beginning to route our return to Earth.”

(Y/n) felt intense relief fill her only to be washed away by sheer horror.

“Mark Watney was hit by debris en route to the MAV… He… He died on impact and didn’t make it to the MAV.”

A loud cry split the air, and (Y/n) only realized it had come from her when pain shot up her knees as they gave out and hit the ground.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Time on... Part Two

Taglist:

Forever Taglist:

@maybe-a-fangurl / @libbymouse / @geeksareunique / @deathbyarabbit​ / @spilltheearlgrey​

[thinkyoureholy]

Blessed With A Curse [3]

.

.

.

Pairing : Kang Yeosang / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Greek God!AU

Words : 2.8k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I ran through the dense forest, forcing my legs to go faster. This sense of dread and urgency had filled my entire being for the past hour. I couldn’t quite place why I was feeling like this but I knew I had to get there quick. I didn’t know why I was feeling this but it was a feeling all too familiar to me. Images of them crying out to me for help as they were mercilessly slaughtered painted the walls of my mind, their screaming echoing loudly. With that in my mind I pushed myself harder, my chest heaving up and down rapidly as I ran. I was so focused on getting there in time I didn’t sense those that hid behind the trees until it was too late. 

I barely managed to deflect the arrow that was aimed straight for my heart. I grit my teeth when a sword followed that arrow, once again narrowly missing its mark as I blocked it. 

“Athena!” I growled, pushing back against her, slamming my shoulder into her to throw her back. 

I raised my sword up high, about to cut her down when I froze at the cry that rang through the forest. 

“Yeosang!!” 

I looked around desperately, trying to figure out in which direction her voice came from. I was only distracted for a second but that was enough for one of them to kick my legs out from underneath me, landing a blow to my face at the same time. There was only one that had that kind of speed, my eyes finding him quickly. 

“Hermes.” I snarled, glaring up at him. 

I quickly got to my feet but as soon as I did I felt something like a whip hit my back. I turned to see someone I least expected, my eyes growing wide. 

“Poseidon?” I expected the rest of them to be here, hell I even expected Apollo but never Poseidon. 

“YEOSANG!”

I inhaled sharply at the pain filled shout that filled the quiet forest. I turned in every direction, wanting to go to her but I didn’t know which way to go. Frustrated, I let out a cry of my own, the sound that fell from my lips almost animalistic as the ground shook underneath my feet. 

“Where is she!?” I shouted, my eyes darted over all of them, falling on Artemis, the one closest to me, “What the hell are you doing to her!?”

Artemis didn’t even flinch as she looked me dead in the eye, not bothering to answer as Athena spoke for her, “You’re the reason we had to go after her in the first place.”

I whirled around to face her, about to kill her where she stood but before I could bring my sword down Y/N’s screams stopped me. This time she didn’t even call out my name, her cries higher and filled with agony. My hand shook as I gripped my sword tightly, the sense of dread that filled my heart only growing as I continued to helplessly hear her cry out. I knew I could beat them if I just lost myself to my temper and my impulses but if I did that I’d lose control. If I lost control I’d tear this whole forest apart and burn it to ashes, taking her along with them. I bit my bottom lip harshly as I thought of what to do. I could fight them as I was but with hearing her screams every few seconds I don’t know how well I’d fare against them. Each scream, each cry had my heart twisting painfully in my chest, the lump in my throat only growing bigger and bigger. 

“Once we’re done with her we’ll finish you off once and for all.” Hermes said as Poseidon continued, “But for now you’ll have to hear the agony she’s going through.”

I inhaled shakily through my nose, my eyes filling with unshed tears for the first time in I don’t know how long, “Why..? Why must you go after everything I care about? Was casting me out of my home not enough for you?!”

Athena raised her head slightly, the look in her eyes filled with contempt, “You, more than anyone, know why we cast you out, Ares.”

“You lot were deceived! I am many things but I would never do that to Hephaestus!” I shouted, already sick and tired of having to defend myself, “You’ve already cast me out so why are you doing all of this?! Why go after her?! She’s innocent in all of this!”

They all just stared at me, emotionless, probably enjoying the look of desperation on my face. I reached out and grabbed Poseidon’s arm, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Please, I’m begging you, stop this,” I begged, my voice breaking as another one of her cries pierced the air.

“You should’ve never given her your mark if you wanted to keep her out of all this.” Poseidon said, his voice void of emotion, “You know exactly how your humans get once their power is unlocked, they’re more troublesome than you are.”

“But she hasn’t even done anything yet! Is that not enough to let her live!? She’s carried my mark with her since she was born, twenty-two years have gone by and she has not once raised a weapon against another! There’s a possibility she may never even unlock that power!” I yelled, my breath catching in my throat as I looked over them, “It doesn’t matter what I say to you does it? You’re going to kill her regardless of how I plead for her to be spared…” I trailed off as I finally realized nothing I said would get them to stop.

“Yeosang! Help me! Please!!”

-

I gasped as I sat up, jolted awake by the nightmare I was stuck in. I was panting heavily, the nightmare still so vivid in my mind. I curled in on myself, clawing at my heart, the organ beating painfully in my chest. The sense of dread had failed to leave me even as I woke up, getting the feeling that this was some kind of premonition. Just the thought sent my heart racing as it throbbed in my chest. As I tried to calm myself I gripped the hilt of my sword tightly, only one thing on my mind as an intense fire burned in my eyes. 

……

I smiled softly as the wind carried her laugh over to me, catching a glimpse of the joyful look on her face. But the smile soon left my lips as I caught sight of him, a frown now adorning my face. I’ve been shadowing Y/N for a little over a month now and in that time I’ve seen just how close she is with Apollo. I was sure I threatened him to keep away from her, I guess I’ll just have to teach him what happens when you don’t heed my words. I clenched my hands into tight fists, taking a step towards the two of them but stopped at the voice that called out to me from my right.

“I don’t think that’s very wise, brother.” 

I ground my teeth at the sound of her voice, turning slowly to face her, “Athena...you’ve got guts showing your face around me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I was trying to stay calm, afraid that if I lost my temper I’d end up destroying everything within miles of where I stood. If I did that then Y/N would get hurt, and that’s the last thing I wanted. So, for her sake, I was holding off on ramming my sword through Athena’s heart. But the condescending look she wore on her face was hard to ignore. I dug my nails into my palm, drawing blood as I forced myself to endure it.

“I have something of importance to talk to you about.” She said, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

“Tell me why you’re here or leave. I have no time for your games.” I snapped, waiting for her to state her business but she kept quiet. I scoffed, glaring at her for a moment longer before turning my back on her.

“It has something to do with that human girl you seem to be fond of.” She called out, the teasing tone in her voice clear as day.

I tensed at her words but kept my back to her, “What about her?”

A moment of silence fell over us, the air surrounding us so tense it was almost suffocating, “I hear you’ve claimed her. If she carries your mark then you know better than anyone what that means. She’s an Athenian so I-”

I couldn’t control myself anymore. I turned on my heel and reached out, grabbing her neck with my hand, “You what?” I seethed, bringing her in closer so our faces were inches apart, my hand squeezing her throat tightly but not tight enough she couldn’t get a word out.

“I have...authority...over her…” She choked out, digging her nails into my wrist to get my to let go but I only squeezed harder.

“Let’s get something straight here, little sister. You can have authority over all the Athenians you like, hell you can have it over everyone else in the world but you have absolutely no authority over Y/N. She is mine and mine alone,” I growled, throwing her to the ground as I stood over her, “You lot have taken all my humans from me, all of them! I will not allow you to take another. I’ll kill you before you even get the chance.”

She scoffed, pushing herself up off the ground, sitting up and staring at me with contempt, “I’ve fought you and won before, I’ll do it again.”

I chuckled darkly as I crouched down in front of her, reaching forward to roughly grab her chin with my thumb and index finger, “Just try it. I can guarantee you won’t win a second time. You’ve all taken everything good I’ve ever had, my home, my people, everything. I will no longer allow you to do as you please. Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you. I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand. If you do not heed my warning then prepare yourself for a battle you won’t come out of alive, not even your wit will be able to save you,” I spat out, throwing her head back roughly.

I rose to my full height, staring down at her for a moment before turning my back on her. It took everything in me not to kill her in that instant by I restrained myself. For all the hate I had for her and the rest of my siblings there was still a part of me that wished to protect them from all harm, even though I knew those feelings weren’t reciprocated. And knowing that, hurt more than anything but I’ve learned to live with it all these years. But I will not let them get away with threatening Y/N, they can do what they like with me but she is off limits, not even I can touch her.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

“Wooyoung can you bring in the apples from the back!?” I called out, barely sparing a glance over my shoulder as I placed the last orange where it belonged. 

I placed the crate underneath the table, leaving it there for later. As I straightened back out I felt eyes on me. I turned on my heel, seeing the man from the cave standing in the doorway. It had been a month since I last saw him but nothing about him had changed. Actually, now that the sun is out I got to see his face better. I thought he was handsome at night with his hair framing his face due to the rain but I couldn’t even see a fraction of his handsomeness in the rain. With the sun out without a cloud in the sky his skin seemed to glow, his hair perfectly styled out of his face and his eyes, they shined brightly, holding me captive. 

“Yeosang…” I murmured without thinking. 

He grinned the moment his name fell from my lips, a blush coating my cheeks at the look that crossed his eyes. I quickly looked away, feeling like I was being sucked into those beautiful eyes of his. He chuckled, the sound deep and resonated in my ears. 

“I’m glad to see that you remember my name.” He said with a grin still on his face, his tone light as he continued, “I was worried you had forgotten about me already.”

“How could I forget someone like you?” I asked, again speaking without thinking. 

When I realized what I said I cleared my throat, glancing at him for a moment only to see the grin on his face widened, his eyes shining brighter than before. Ah, why did I say that? Why am I just saying everything that comes to mind without thinking it over?! What the hell is wrong with me today?!

He chuckled once more, the sound lighter than before, a fondness in his voice as he spoke, “Well I’m glad I made such a strong impression,” His smile softened before it disappeared and a frown took its place, “Though I’m sure it wasn’t a very good impression. I’m sorry about how cryptic I was that night, it wasn’t my intention to frighten you. I also apologize for being so rude to you…”

He averted his eyes as he spoke, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Just the sight had my heart racing. What?! Why are you going out of control?! Stop that!, I shouted to myself, scolding my heart for being so affected by these minuscule actions of his. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that wanted to invade my mind, thoughts of him.

“Uh...well…”I trailed off, not knowing what to say, “Apology accepted… I guess…?”

He laughed, the sound different from when he chuckled lightly, dare I say this laugh of his sounded even better than the first, “Ah, you’re a lot more entertaining than I thought…” He murmured under his breath.

“Huh?”

He shook his head, the smile on his face seeming to be permanent. He opened his mouth to say more but before he could another voice interjected, “Y/N! Where do you want these?”

I quickly whipped around to see Wooyoung walking over to me with that crate of apples I had asked him to grab, “Where they always go.” 

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he glared at Yeosang, the hold he had on the crate tightening. I raised a brow, confused over what had gotten into him. As I went to question him about it Yeosang spoke up. 

“So, do you—do you think you can help me out with a little shopping?” He asked, a bit hesitant to voice his question. 

I stared at him in shock, his words catching me off guard. It was such a simple request, one I’ve done for many customers in the past. So why did I find it so shocking coming from him? He must’ve mistaken the shock in my eyes for something else as he began apologizing. 

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re busy-“

“No!” I said, my voice higher than normal, “No...it’s—it’s okay. I’d love to help.”

The grin he wore earlier reappeared on his face as he followed after me, deeper into the shop. 

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I paused for a moment as we walked by Apollo. I gave him a quick glance to see his head was slightly bowed as he gripped an apple tightly in his hands. I smirked at the sight of his obvious anger, loving the way his whole body trembled with the rage he felt within. 

“You did well, brother,” I said in a low voice, placing my hand on his shoulder, “I hope you continue to stay out of my way. If you do so you have my word there will be no problems between the two of us but if you slip up even once…” I trailed off, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezed roughly, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips, “Not only will I pay you back for the betrayal you put me through on Olympus but for touching what is so rightfully mine. I won’t kill you, at first. I’ll put you through so much unimaginable pain that you’ll be begging me to kill you. But that’d be showing you too much mercy and as you know...I’m not the merciful type.”

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General Tags : @mirror-juliet​ 

[astranne]

The adventures of Diana Thorsdottir-Danvers -An AU

Another idea. But this is an AU to a twoshot I wrote some time ago on Wattpad. It’s in german, but I summon it for you. 

After Infinity War, Thor’s depressed and Carol helps him out. They both go to space, Brunhilde becomes the queen of New Asgard. Long story short, Thor and Carol come together, fight against Kree, have a child and because the universe is screwed up thanks to Thanos, she becomes pregnant, makes some timetravel without knowing it and gives birth to a girl. Diana Thorsdottir-Danvers. She has  the same powers like her parents, but because she’s half asgardian, her powers of her mother are even stronger than Carols. Anyway. Diana is a sweet girl, grows up faster because of Thanos and her being an asgardian. So she’s in her late teenage ages, when her parents fight against Thanos and she suddendly disapears. In my story on Wattpad, she lands on Olympus, meets all the gods and after some drama and all, she comes together with Apollo. Her parents find her again, meet the gods, Thor and Zeus try to kil each other, Carol steps in and yeah. Diana becomes then the wife of Apollo and such. 

Now. In this AU, everything happens the same, but when she disapears, she lands in the DC universe. She knows, it’s not her earth, bc of her smart suit (she has one like her mom (her colors are blue, red and silver, basically the same like Carol)) and she sees some heroes and villians, she’s pretty sure they are not on her earth. 

So, what to do now? She has no way to go home and has not the nerve to interact with this arrogant heroes, so she starts to write. (Yeah I know,she shoud be start searching a way hime, but she’s immortal, she has plenty of time) About Captain America, then her mother, and then the first appearance of the Avengers. She writes about the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., about Ultron, about Thanos. It takes something like one/two years until she wrote down the history (of the Avengers and all the other heroes) from her earth and then goes to a publishing company, who are mindblown. She wrote... wait a moment, I need to research all the movies and series- 35?40? books (movies with series, the whole mcu basically until infinity war) about a whole new universe, with whole new heroes. 

So, they start to publish the books and make three phases, like the MCU. While people read her books, she writes the final, endgame. And she calls it; Avengers Endgame, The End Of The Infinity Saga. 

People absolutly love her books, they are so realistic, even the heroes, they have mistakes and are just human, all the details match perfect with fantasy and what happend real. They absolutly love the different groups of heroes and also like it, that most of them don’t care about this ‘no killing’ rule. Because Diana was bored, she drawed the covers herself, the first movies (captain america 1, iron man 1, thor 1, black panther 1, spider-man 1, hulk, agents of shield first season, avengers 1 etc.) show the the upper body of the hero, without face. The sequels show more of the place where the book takes plase, Infinity War shows Thanos with the Infinity Stones and Endgame all the heroes against Thanos. In the books themself, she placed some doodles, while the characters do casual things or are in a fighting pose... and yeah.

Not even a year after the first release, Diana Danvers is famous and some filmproducer approach her, wanting to make movies. And there are only the books until the second phase released. Many fanarticles show up and Diana creates the firma MARVEL (breaking the fourth wall, heh) and makes millions in seconds. But she doesn’t really want’s this money, spends as much as she can and just uses the money she truly needs for herself and the company. People love her even more. And some hate her, but she doesn’t care.

She begins to write side stories, who still happen while the Infinity Saga, but are not that important. Now, she knew about the important things, since her mother is a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. and her father is important too. But what happend truly to Black Widow and Hawkeye? What did Captain America do, after S.H.I.E.L.D. has fallen? What did Thor do after New York? What happend to Loki, when he met Thanos? (Her fans absolutly love Loki and he becomes one of the most liked characters, after she writes, that he has been mind controlled)

Her fandom becomes bigger than the one of Percy Jackson, she’s close to Harry Potter. She broke some records and won many awards and after everything until Infinity War has been released, she was the most famous author of the world. (unrealistic, but do I care? nah not really) She solds more books than J.K. Rowling and even more await Endgame. When she announces, that the first movie is coming up (captain america), they loose their absolute shit. Because this is going to be fucking awesome. Diana herself writes the script, leads the casting and directs the movies. 

Now you certainly ask, but what about her home? Well, Diana clearly misses her parents, but that’s it. She doesn’t really have any friends, her whole life she fought with her parents against the Kree and other bad people, who tried to control other ones. She made her peace, that she’s now on another earth.

Anyway. She’s something like 23 years old, in the middle of writing Endgame, when she’s kidnapped by the Riddler. He asks her some riddels, admits he’s a great fan, while she just rolls her eyes. 

“Look, I’m in the middle of writing Endgame and I need every minute-” Riddler starts to apologize and releases her, asks for an autogram, while the whole world watched. Diana didn’t even need a hero, she just hugged the Riddler, told him he had some good Riddles, can she also tell one?

“What happend in Budapest?” The big fan Riddle is, naturally understands and thinks hard, until his eyes widden. 

“Are you writing it in Endgame? Or did you drop any hints and we don’t see the whole picture...” Riddle thinks hard and Diana just walks away.

The next time she’s kidnapped, it’s Joker. He’s much more serious about this whole thing and won’t release her so easily. Naturally the whole world watches again and can see, how she tells him to fuck off, because she has a time limit and she still needs some drawings. Joker snarls and slaps her, she just stares at him with blank eyes and spits in his face. He gaspes offended, grabs her hair and wants to yank her head back, but Diana headbutts him, stomps on his foot and slams her whole body against him. He definitly didn’t see that coming. Before anything more can happen, glass shatters and Batman comes to help. Or so he thinks. Because Diana keeps a groaning Joker on the ground, stares at him hatefully, hisses some cruses about him and how she needs to work. Batman just blinks, sighs and shuts the camera off. He helps her, knocks Joker unconscious. Diana thanks him and walks off. 

“If you would just kill him, then he wouldn’t cause such problems.” Batman blinks again, but the woman is already away. 

Her fans love her for kicking villain ass, being so sarcastic, almost cynical. Some villians try to kidnap her, but she becomes angrier every time. Because damn fucking gods, she’s trying to work, her book is going to be released in a month, the movie is in the middle of shooting and she doesn’t has the time for this shit. Her videos go viral, kicking male villians in the groin. Female villians don’t even try it, because first, they love her books and they would never hurt her. And second, they don’t want their ass kicked.  

After she’s caught in the middle of a gang war in Gotham (she’s there for some meeting) her partners/workers/assistants have enough. They force her to hire a bodyguard, because- No, Miss Danvers. You can’t march against the villains by yourself, you are still a civillian, let the heroes to their work. 

Because I love Jason Todd and he’s known as a bookworm, he becomes her bodyguard. He’s the head of security of Wayne Enterprises and Bruce rather likes the girl, he talked with her at a Gala and he wants her protected. Even if she doesn’t has black hair. But still does have blue eyes...

Anyway. Jason becomes her bodyguard and because she’s such an attraction for danger, he’s around her 24/7. They become close, he watches her work, while he ‘protects’ her and yeah. Some real cliché story about a rich girl, who falls in love with her bodyguard. ehm... I don’t care.

So, Endgame is released and is the most selled book from Diana. Her doodles became drawings, they are much more detailed and some even with colour. The fans finally know, how Diana sees her heroes and notice, they look like many known actors. 

“Well, some have to play my charakters, no? I saw their work, I have a good eye for these things.” Totally a thing Diana would do, cast actors for movies who are planned in the next few years. Not even asking them, because she knows, that they will do it. And then she announces, she’s going to be Captain Marvel, because Carol Danvers was inspired by her mother and she wants to honour her. The world loves it. The creator of this legendary books playing one of the most powerful charakters. 

Meanwhile, Jason became her assisstant/right hand and is still her bodyguard. He stops being Red Hood, because the Outlaws are just nothing and he had now not the nerve working together with his family. One day, Diana suddendly speaks up. 

“Why did you stop being Red Hood?” Jason jokes on his spite and looks at her shooked, but she just draws at her next cover. She finally writes about Budapest.

“What?”, he croakes out. 

“I asked you, why did you stop being Red Hood?”

“How?” Diana just raises an eyebrow. 

“It’s not that hard. I’m literally the creator of another group of heroes, where do you think I have my inspiration? And my father is a god, we have an eye for warriors.” Jason slowly progresses her words. 

“A god? What the fu-”

“Yeah. Thor, the god of thunder.” At his wide eyes, she talks further. 

“The asgardian with the hammer, you know-”

“You tell me, this whole thing you write is real? That Thor is your father and an Avenger?” Diana just smiles. 

“And Carol is my mother... where do you really think I have my inspiration? I’m not some genius, I just wrote down the stories my parents told me.” 

“So... there is another earth?”

“There are many earths... there is a multiverse. I’m just from a different universe.”

Jason definitly didn’t expect that. But is now even more interested in her stories. He’s the one, who tells her to become a hero. She becomes Tempestas, the partner of Red Hood. 

And yeah... this it is.

If anyone wants to write about this, feel free! Just tag me, so I can read and reblog it :)

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