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battlinghurricanes · 4 years ago

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LITYERSES HEADCANONS!!!!!!!

I saw some other headcanon posts for him, so I felt inspired to throw my own ideas out there! I think some of my headcanons are pretty different from the ones a lot of people have of him, but I always like reading other people’s ideas so hopefully people will like this too!

(also theres a lot, this is long *cough* my bad)

- After the incident in The Lost Hero, after Midas dies, Lityerses is homeless. His father’s mansion is destroyed and it’s not like he has anyone to turn to.

- They mention in The Lost Hero that the Hunters of Artemis came across Midas and Lityerses earlier. When they did, Lityerses heard in passing about Camp Half-Blood. It’s the only place meant for demigods that he has even the slightest knowledge on, so he sets his sights on making it there.

- It takes eight grim months to reach New York. It’s half a miracle, slowly taking busses, hitchhiking, and sometimes just walking to the next city. Monsters attack him the entire way and he adds plenty of new scars to his collection.

- There’s no reliable way for him to get money. He gets much, much better at using his powers as a son of Demeter. He uses it to grow fruits, vegetables, and any sort of edible plant so he can at least have food of some kind.

- He goes to New York City because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t even know if the Hunters were talking about the city or the state but he figures he has to start somewhere. Unfortunately, the Triumvirate notices his presence before anyone from Camp Half-Blood does.

- He follows some demigods to Nero, who sent them to collect him. He offers a position working for the Triumvirate in exchange for food, lodging, and other basic support. Lityerses is tired and he wants to sleep in a bed and have proper meals he doesn’t have to worry about acquiring.

- He accepts, not caring if what the Triumvirate is doing is shitty or not. Nero sends him to Indianapolis to work for Commodus.

- Apollo’s decision to give him another chance was very affecting. Especially coming from ancient times when the stories of the gods on earth were far more real and immediate, he knows very well how the gods could treat mortals as simply disposable.

- He had never questioned his belief that any mortal who got wrapped up in business with a god suffered a horrible fate because of it, whether the god intended it or not.

- But then Apollo saved his life and defended him at the Waystation and told him he trusted him and Lityerses’s mind keeps drifting back to him over and over and over.

- His mind wants to reconcile what Apollo did for him with what he knows about the gods. He can’t, and that makes him feel a great many things that he can’t pin down. Apollo decided to care about him when he had no reason to, and he doesn’t know what that means for him.

- He feels a twinge of gratitude whenever he steps into the sunlight and pulse of anxiety whenever he wonders if he’s okay on his quest.

- He thinks about Meg, his little sister, and hopes they’re keeping each other safe.

- Lityerses can occasionally seem really dull, indifferent, or unresponsive because he gives super minimal reactions to things sometimes, but that’s really not the case.

- Being in the modern world for him is sort of like a slight, but near constant sensory overload. Sometimes, his brain is too busy processing other stuff to fully load up an emotional response. He’ll react to something in his mind but he won’t express it outwardly at all.

- Leo, running up: Wanna help me strap a firework to a crossbow bolt and try to shoot it into the office building across the street to see if it’ll blow up in there?!!!!! Lityerses, with a completely flat voice and blank expression: I think that’s a very bad idea.

- It’s definitely not all the time, but it does happen.

- (Me? Projecting sensory issues onto every character I like? It’s more likely than you think.)

- He has a very “go with the flow” attitude, to the point of being a character flaw sometimes. It can make him easy to manipulate.

- (Commodus: hey lityerses go put this barbed wire and war helmets and metal teeth on these ostriches Liyerses, in his head: uhuh uhuh uhuh uhuh yeah cool got it i hope i still have some fingers left tomorrow)

- He’s working on it though. He’s working on it.

- One side effect of this is that whenever Leo makes some pop culture or meme reference, Lityerses will just nod and agree. It takes Leo forever to realise that he was just lying going along with it.

- *mid conversation* Lityerses: I’d go get some food, but I don’t have any money Leo: dude, you’re literally just the 69 cents vine, not enough for chicken nuggets Lityerses: oh, for sure Calypso, overhearing: wait, you understood that?? Lityerses: no, I’ve never understood a single word that’s left leo’s mouth Leo: what?!!!! but you said you understood my reference to that dril tweet the other day, right?! Lityerses: yeah, of course Calypso: what’s a dril tweet?? Lityerses: I don’t know. Leo: YOU TRAITOR

- Another side effect: he’s a complete pushover for Georgie.

- At one point, when some of the Waystation crew are walking out in the city, she complains that she’s tired and wants to be carried. When her moms gently refuse, she immediately goes over to Lityerses and holds her arms out and says that she’s tired. He doesn’t even stop walking, he just swoops her up and puts her on his shoulder right away.

- Hemithia and Jo glare at him but he just avoids eye contact. “She’s already up there, too much effort to put her down now.”

- He was in the Fields of Punishment in the Underworld and wow was it incredibly traumatizing.

- His memories of death are sickeningly agonizing, but they also usually feel distant and unreal. Sometimes, though, they’ll worm their way into his dreams with horrific clarity. He’ll wake up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, with full body tremors he can’t control.

- One morning after waking up like that, while sitting on the floor regaining his composure, Hemithea comes in to see why he wasn’t up yet. He pulls himself together in due time. He doesn’t answer any of her questions.

- He never talks about it, but he’s truly terrified of dying. He never was before, but now that he knows what’s waiting for him...

- It doesn’t help that he knows that, no matter how careful he is or how well he defends himself, he could die at any moment if Thanatos decides to bring him back to the Underworld.

- It weighs on the back of his mind that, at least on a technical level, he has no right to be alive. Sometimes he can’t help but think that the things he does now don’t matter in the end, because there’s no reason he would get a second judgement when he does eventually return to the Underworld.

- He does his best to shut that down and remind himself that trying to do the right thing helps the people around him, no matter what happens after his death, but the thought exists and it is painful.

- He really never voices these fears because he feels like all he can really do is try not to think about it, and when he does, he tries to forget as soon as he can. It’s a burden he shoulders as quietly as he can.

- He isn’t used to owning a lot of material possessions, both from how he lived in ancient times and then from being homeless for a while. He’s only ever described wearing that Cornhuskers shirt because it’s the only one he owned for a while.

- Not long after joining the Waystation, the first time he was going out somewhere them, Jo snapped that it just made him look stupid, trying to look tough by going without a coat when it was so cold outside. Earnestly confused and defensive, he tells her that he just doesn’t own one.

- After that, she insists on filling his wardrobe until he has enough clothes.

- (Speaking of the Cornhuskers shirt, he just picked it out on a whim, sort of thinking of Demeter (They grow corn here like we used to grow wheat, right?) and sort of just thinking it looked cool. Olujime once tried to talk to him about how some college teams were doing and Lityerses just goes “What’s football?”)

- He doesn’t really get modern fashion trends. Leo offers to catch him up, but he declines very quickly.

- In ancient times, dyes and patterns available for clothes were much more limited and much more expensive. He’s fascinated by all the colors and prints people can wear just all the time now. Lityerses wears a lot of bright colors because he thinks they’re cool and fun. He likes red, blue, and purple the most but he’ll wear a lot of stuff.

- Along with not really following any trends, he also hasn’t picked up on a lot of unspoken gender connotations that come with modern clothing.

- When the Waystation are first trying to get him some clothes, he picks out a pink jacket and Leo snorts at him like “You’re going for pink?” Lityerses just stares at him like “Yeah. It’s just pink.” Leo sort of realizes and goes, “Oh, it’s just, you know...” to Calypso. But Calypso is also just staring blankly and says, “No I don’t. I don’t get it. Is there something about pink?” And Leo notices Hemithea glaring daggers at him and he laughs nervously and goes, “Nevermind, it was a stupid joke anyway.”

- Hemithia: Leave the ancient demigod and ex-titan blissfully unaware of our complex, modern gender stereotypes. Leo, sweating: gotcha.

- He pretty much just wears what he finds comfortable. Generally it’s just t-shirts with jeans or basketball shorts.

- Lityerses is a super clingy sleeper and will reflexively grab on to anything within arms reach while he’s asleep. (He’s a big spoon by nature.)

- Leo discovers this and now, whenever Lityerses falls asleep on one of the couches, he’ll entertain himself by slowly pushing a pillow up to him until he inevitably grabs it and pulls it against his chest.

- No one gets those pillows back until Lityerses wakes up.

- He’s very buff. His muscles aren’t super defined, nothing at all like a bodybuilder, no six pack abs or anything. But he’s built. Thick arms.

- He’s very limber and flexible too. He has great balance, which lets him move as fast as he does in combat. He’s quite physically fit in general.

- He’ll never admit it, but he ended up getting attached to the highlights in his hair he got when Apollo revealed his godly form. He thought they were fun and different and he sort of missed it when his hair grew out.

#trials of apollo #toa #lityerses #pjo #litpollo #well none of its super litpollo but #you know you know #long post #also sorry for giving you super cute georgie and lityerses headcanons #and then punching you in the gut with the trauma of death and revival with no warning #not that sorry tho #god its been a long time since ive done headcanons like this #this better go in the tags #edit- it did for a min then disappeared :^)

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sealpointselkie · 4 years ago

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My OCs: Edit (Eddy) & Hope

I’ve had these OCs for a while now but I finally got up the courage to commission art for them (I find Hope especially hard to colour I’ve “ruined” several good (by the standards I’ve set for my own art) drawings trying to figure it out. 😫

Thank you so much to @popato-chisps for the excellent art and your patience for the details! Hope is out front with the mallet and Edit is in the back, probably begging her to stop! Find the rest of their story under the cut:

I’ve been a bit embarrassed by my OCs; I love them, but I worry that others will think they’re uninteresting or uninspired. My idea for the genesis of these characters was inspired by Underverse where, through the actions of ‘outcodes’ or ‘demigods’ timelines and whole AUs were destroyed. I also watched a bunch of alchemical symbolism vids and thought about the collective unconscious of these timelines and how traumatized and angry they’d be that these outside entities used their AU as a battlefield ending in their destruction. I would imagine after a battle like that the power of the outcodes would permeate the space that used to contain the AU, and what if the fragmented unconscious of the sentient beings of that AU coalesced with that power to birth new life? New life that could travel the multiverse and protect other AUs from their fate? And what about the power of the outcodes that helped birth them? What opposing forces would these new being have to fight within themselves? (This was also inspired by Paper Crane’s birth) This idea also let me make “ship kids” without their “parents” having to be in a sexual relationship, which, I admit, appeals to me. I see these “fusion kids” as being in conflict with the Star Sanses and the Nightmare Crew (along with any other deities/out codes) but guilty of manipulating timelines and AUs to suit themselves in the absence of such figures.

Edit came first: I liked the Cross x Ink ship (Crink) and I thought about what a merging of their powers would be like. I decided on the idea of “Cross-out” or editing, which (in my mind) kind of balanced the forces of creation and destruction between Ink and Cross. Edit, or Eddy, is similar to Ink in that he can’t produce emotions on his own, but unlike Ink gathering his ink from the Doodlesphere, Eddy gathers ink by being in close proximity to events with highly charged emotional energy. He has three kinds of ink: white creates emotion, black drains emotion and red heightens it. So if Eddy is feeling an emotion like rage or joy he can use his red ink to increase the intensity of that feeling, which also boosts his fighting power. However, there is a catch, Eddy is very susceptible to rage and can loose control of himself easily when indulging in that emotion. So, in a way, he’s inherited Cross’s anger issues.

When Eddy was “young” he was guilty of creating the events that allowed him to gather ink: his “drained” state, like Ink when he runs out of ink and emotions, interfered with any empathy he would have had for the people of the AU he was currently living in. The fragmented unconscious within him “told” him that he should feel, that he wasn’t whole, so he chased ink like an addict. It’s why he’s attached himself to Hope, since being around her passively generates ink for him. Since joining up with her he’s been able to have a steady supply of ink, and therefore emotion, which allows him to empathize with other people and makes him hesitate to create the same mayhem he did before when he was more often “drained”. He tries to mitigate Hope’s crazier and extreme plans to hurt or damage as few people as is necessary.

Now he enjoys helping creators and encouraging them to edit, prune or streamline their creations – there is such a thing as over designing! But he truly believes in their own vision and won’t force a creator to follow his suggestions

His magic takes form or white circles and red X’s, symbolizing ‘correct’ or ‘incorrect’ his red X’s can nullify attacks while his circles can enhance the power of his own or other’s attacks. I see him as a support character, standing in the back and buffing his allies while debuffing his enemies. In a pinch he can use his pen as a weapon. He also has access to a Sans skeleton’s typical attacks of bones and Gaster Blasters, shooting red energy.

And then there is Hope; Hope is a fusion of Dream and Error which fashioned her into an avatar of her namesake. Hope can create and destroy, lift you up and cast you down, and Hope lives in between these two extremes. Meeting in the middle is never an option. Hope, like most skeletons, considers herself physically gender neutral but the identity she constructed for herself revolves on being a “Magical Girl”, defender of hopes and dreams!, and therefore uses she/her pronouns.

Hope sees herself as a traveling Magical Girl who spreads hope where ever she travels and gives the people she touches the opportunity to achieve their dreams! In reality what happens is that Hope chooses someone with ambition, or an aspiration, and manipulates events to give that person to prove the “strength” of their dream and propel them forward. No matter the cost. This most often creates an extreme or dangerous event with permanent consequences moving onwards. If they “succeed” (in her mind) then she has created a world where their dreams coming true is more likely than before! If they “fail”, well, they just didn’t want it enough and she’ll abandon them immediately. It’s rare for her to give someone a “second chance”, or continue meddling in the life of someone who passes her “test”. She usually introduces herself as a traveling performer and Eddy as her bodyguard, she often performs on the street singing top 100 pop songs where the lighting effects and sound quality is oddly good for someone with her equipment… But hey, she’s a monster so “magic”.

When it comes to her magical equipment it comes from her necklace mimicking Dream’s bauble, which transforms into multiple forms:

1. Her mallet, her go to weapon: she has ridiculous strength, like a cartoon character

2. Her microphone with stand: part of her persona is an idol/pop star. She knows the top 100 by heart and is an excellent dancer, it also creates a spotlight on her, no matter the circumstances of lighting or atmosphere.

3. Her Wand: Portable microphone, can use it to enchant others.

Hope’s glitches tend to be diamond shaped and some can be soft, it gives her the appearance of shojo sparkles rather than Error’s computer-like graphic errors.

She has a limited ability to “enchant” or control others which she uses to create her scenarios: a villain to vanquish for someone who wants to be a hero, make a talent scout more likely to pay attention to a certain young dancer, etc.

Hope thinks Eddy’s become a stick-in-the-mud since he’s had enough ink, however, and she’d never admit this, she feels rather lonely wandering from AU to AU and Eddy is the closest thing to a real friend she’s ever had. He’s also someone she’d like to have watching her back when the time comes to teach those out-codes a painful lesson. She’s definitely a character that prefers to be on the front lines and the center of attention in a fight.

Her theme and Inspiration is: Oh No! by Marina and The Diamonds

(Sorry the editing is funky, I copied and pasted from email and the mobile app won’t let me correct any more than this.)

Ink by @/comyet

Error by @/loverofpiggies

Cross and Underverse by @/jakei95

Dream by @/jokublog

Paper Crane by @/little-noko

Art by @popato-chisps, commissioned by me, @sealpointselkie

Edit Sans and Hope by @sealpointselkie

#my ocs #my ocs art #commisssoned art #edit sans #hope #crink child #cross x ink fusion #error x dream fusion #insomnia child #cross-out sans

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lukecastellandeservedbetter · 4 years ago

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21. Just An Average Day

read the others!: Masterlist

“Luke!” Piper’s voice carried into his room, panicked.

Luke was breathing hard from training and headed over to the door, pulling it open curiously. “What?” He grabbed his towel and wiped his forehead.

“We’re under attack, let’s go,” She sprinted out of sight, leaving Luke to scrambled for his swords and running after her.

“Where in Hades did all these Romans come from?” Luke shouted over the bustle. “I thought Leo handled it?”

“He did,” Hazel yelled back. “Apparently he didn’t handle it enough!”

“I need everyone to stay here and protect the ship,” Annabeth ordered. “I’ll go into the Fort to find the map, and Jason, Leo and Frank.”

“Jason, Leo and Frank?” Luke repeated. “What are they doing in the Fort?”

“They got blown out of the sky by a trigger happy goat,” Percy yelled back.

“I’ll go with you,” Luke told her. “That way you can find whatever map and I’ll find the boys.”

Annabeth looked unsure but nodded all the same. “Alright, lets go.” She kissed Percy quickly and headed off, Luke hot on her heels.

Luke split off and let Annabeth go on her hunt for the map, heading to the centre of the Fort where Romans were fighting Jason, Leo and Frank. Luke was bombarded almost immediately, Roman’s attacking him from both sides. He was careful to stop but not hurt the Roman demigods, which was infinitely harder when they were going for the kill. “Jason!” He shouted over the sound of swords. “Leo, Frank, we have to get back to the ship!”

“Didn’t Annab- Woah Dakota, sorry -Annabeth come in with you?” Jason shouted back, knocking the Roman aside.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s got her own thing,” Luke yelled back, deflecting more attacks.

Jason nodded and managed to get Frank and Leo’s attention. They fought their way over, and the four managed an escape back to the ship, where the fighting increased and continued.

“Percy!” Jason shouted. “I have a plan!”

“Me too!” Percy yelled back.

“With your control of the ocean and my control of the sky-”

“We could create a massive storm!” Percy finished for him.

The two paused the fighting for a moment and grinned at each other. A quick fist bump later and they were sheathing their swords, back to back, calling all their power to them to help defend the ship.

Luke was in a constant battle, balancing keeping an eye on the crew, keeping an eye out for Annabeth, and trying not to actually kill any of the Roman demigods. His weak spot was relatively protected, so he wasn’t bothered by the swords coming at him, but the Romans had no such luxury.

Luckily, Annabeth was joining them not a moment too soon. Piper held out a hand for Annabeth, pulling her onto the ship as Percy and Jason launched them out of port.

Two hours passed and Luke watched as the world passed by at high speed. Frank and Hazel were bickering, Leo was getting unglued from the wheel by Hedge, and Percy and Jason were slumped against the mast of the ship, obviously exhausted.

“Dude, you don’t have a scratch on you,” Jason said wearily, looking up at Luke as Piper tried getting him to drink some water.

Luke looked down at his unharmed body. His shirt and pants were completely wrecked, but his skin remained smooth and unbothered. “Well yeah, Achilles’ Curse.”

“Wait that’s real?” Jason groaned. “I thought that was just a myth. I thought you were joking.”

“Jason…” Percy weakly hit the other boy's chest. “Dude we deal in myths. We fight myths. Our parents are myths. We’re… dude we’re myths.”

Jason whined and slumped down further against the mast. “I hate it here.”

Luke rolled his eyes and nudged Annabeth. “You get the map?” He asked, studying her, concerned.

“Yeah,” She hesitated. “Ran into a few problems along the way, but I’m here now.”

Luke nodded slowly. “Are you okay?”

Annabeth nodded, but her grey eyes were clouded over the way they did when she was trying not to cry. Luke decided it was a subject best dropped for now.

“So where are we going?” Luke asked curiously.

“Chiron’s brothers,” Percy mumbled, gripping Annabeth’s hand.

“The Party Ponies?” Leo raised his eyebrow.

“No,” Annabeth said quickly. “How long until we get there?”

“At top rowing speed, like, an hour.” Leo informed them, looking a little less for wear himself.

Jason tried to stand. “Can we get in the air? Maybe-” He groaned again and slumped against Piper, sliding back down to the deck.

“We can’t, the aerial stabilizer got pulverized when we pulled out of the dock so-”

“It’s okay,” Percy mumbled, barely awake. “Sea is good.”

Hazel muttered something Luke couldn’t quite make out, and Percy and Jason didn’t look like they were getting any better.

“Hey, Frank, grab Jason will you? We should get them to the med bay.” Luke instructed, carefully picking up Percy and grunting. “What the hell did those Romans feed you?” He muttered.

“I miss mom’s cookies.” Percy mumbled to Luke, not even bothering to protest being carried.

Frank followed with Jason, and Annabeth and Piper came behind them. They got the Son of Poseidon and the Son of Jupiter settled in beds, giving them a little nectar and a little ambrosia before Luke insisted everyone else get some rest too- he was the least injured so he would stick around in case they needed anything.

Eventually everyone agreed, and Luke settled in a chair, letting his head droop forward. Truth was, he was exhausted. But he was worried about Percy and Jason, and Piper and Annabeth and Frank all had huge quests today, so it seemed fair that he stay with the boys so Annabeth could study her map, and Piper and Frank could get some actual rest.

“Hey, Luke?” Percy called to him quietly.

Luke looked up from his spot by the door. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to be so grounded when we get home.”

“Probably.” Luke agreed.

Percy was quiet again for a moment, and Luke figured he might have just fallen back asleep.

“Is she mad at me?” He whispered.

“No.” Luke told him. “Just worried.”

“Your mom sounds like a good mom.” Jason mumbled. “I wish my mom was like that.”

“Me too.” Luke sighed. “Get some rest guys, I’m here if you need something.”

The two demigods fell quiet, and before long, the familiar snores of Percy filled the room. Jason was silent, but his breathing was slowed so Luke guessed he had probably passed out too.

Luke let his head drop down, falling into a semi state of consciousness, ready to finally just take a nap as they sailed across the ocean.

#Luke Castellan's Second Chance #luke castellan #percy jackson #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #pjo #Jason Grace #Heroes of Olympus #hoo

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princessamericachavez · 5 years ago

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No dream comes true until you're left hanging by a thread

It’s not the first time he dies at sea, but it feels different. Last time, death felt only like one more waste, a stark reminder of how dull and irrelevant his life had been. He knew the second darkness swallowed him that his passing would matter little to anyone but himself. It’s not like that now. He has so much he wants to accomplish, so much to live for, so many people that genuinely love him, that it makes death taste far more unfair. He loves his life now, doesn’t want to be ripped away from it.

He doesn’t wake up alone and confused this time, either. A chorus of friendly faces welcomes him back to the land of the living with concerned eyes and relieved smiles. Fjord finds himself in the middle of this little family that he’s made for himself and realizes that there’s no dark deal this time, just people who love him and want him around asking nothing in exchange.

It not being his first time, Fjord tries to brush the incident off lightly. With the help of Caduceus, he gets on his feet and after reassuring everyone else he goes to Orly who is just going through the same process thanks to Jester’s magic. The tortoise is equally pragmatic but looks worse for wear in a way that makes Fjord feel a pang of guilt.

It’s his fault that anyone got hurt. They were here for him.

He sends Orly to bed and tasks Marius and Beau with rallying the crew, making sure everyone is alright and the ship able to go on with their mission.

“Watches would probably be a good idea, too,” he sighs, heavily. “I can take the first one.”

“Absolutely not,” Caleb cuts in.

“You need to rest,” Caduceus nods. “I can take a watch.”

“I’ll join you,” Yasha murmurs.

There’s more darkness than usual in everyone’s voices, righteous anger on his behalf that makes his chest twist. Begrudgingly, he accepts their demands that he rest and half an hour after being murdered he finds himself back in the captain’s quarters.

Fjord takes his time drying the floor with the monstrous figure had dripped, changes the bloodied sheets and cleans himself, but eventually, he runs out of distractions. Laying on the bed, he stares at the ceiling waiting for a sleep that doesn’t come. He fears the nightmares that might come the second his eyes close and the dangers that can haunt him in the real world while he lays there vulnerable.

Because he’s not sleeping, the corner of his eye catches the door moving as a dark figure peeks in. He jumps to his feet and summons his sword to his hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” A familiar voice squeaks.

“Jester?”

“I’m sorry, I just- I thought you would be sleeping.”

“You were going to spy on me in my sleep?”

“I just wanted to check-in on you.”

“Oh.” Fjord frowns and moves to turn a light on.

As the darkness recedes, he sees Jester standing on the door frame, eyes still puffy and red from crying earlier. She balances her weight there, anxious and embarrassed and Fjord wants to kick himself for it. She was just worried.

“Do you wanna come in?” He offers.

“Uh, s-sure,” Jester hesitates a little before walking in and closing the door behind him. “Sorry, really, I just wanted to-”

“It’s alright, Jester.”

“It’s really not, though,” she grumbles as she crosses the room and takes a seat at the edge of his bed.

Fjord watches her move through his space with that casual ease and wonders if this is somehow inappropriate of them. His mind flies back to another time, sees himself walking through that very same door to find a very naked Avantika waiting for him. The meeting back then had been charged with danger and lies, quickly turning into a desperate attempt to regain control by him. There is none of that tension now, just Jester sitting there and pinning him with those sad violet eyes.

“You died, Fjord,” she finally says, voice small and wavery.

He knew that already, but the way she says it makes it feel real for the first time. Fjord drops next to her on the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he mutters slowly, letting it sink in. “I- I’m alright now, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jester’s head is low, her eyes tearful as she looks at her hands. It’s like being stabbed in the chest again.

“Sorry?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you faster, Fjord,” the words come out all at once, accompanied by tears. “I tried to!” Jester shakes her head. “But we were stuck down there and I couldn’t get around the guys attacking us and then I came up and you were just lying there and I couldn’t get to you. And I promised I would heal you if you were hurt but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Fjord cuts her off, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He pulls her into a side-hug. He’s never been good with this physical touch thing, but the idea of letting her just cry like that without comforting her is unbearable. “Jester, hey, look at me,” he takes her chin in his hand, mirroring the way her God had comforted her before. “I’m alright, okay? None of this was your fault. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even be here without you.”

She nods, but he isn’t sure that she believes him.

“You saved my life, Jester.”

Slowly, she calms down. He doesn’t let go of her shoulders.

“What are we gonna do now, Fjord?”

“I... don’t know,” he admits. “I’m at a loss here, I must admit. I guess we have to be more careful.”

“We need to find a way to get that thing out of you, Fjord, before they come back for it.”

“Yeah but I don’t know how to,” he lets out a dry laugh, overwhelmed. “I mean, I don’t even know if it’s possible, you know? Besides, we have to see these peace talks through first, it’s important for Beau, Caleb and Veth. And then you have you thing coming in. I don’t want to derail everyone’s lives again with my problems.”

Jester looks at him like he just said the most stupid thing in the seven seas.

“Fjord! Of course this is just as important, okay? Really, we all want you to be safe and if these dumb things come back we are going to be ready, alright? I- I can message Vandran again, ask him if he knows anything about this. Maybe he can tell us how he did to get away before! Or- or I can message Yussa, or Allura, or someone! We are going to find out how to get you out of these, okay?” She says, earnestly as she grabs his free hand in hers. Her eyes are still red-rimmed but he recognizes that unshakable resolve of hers in them. “I told you, Fjord, I will do anything to get you away from Uk’otoa, okay?”

His throat closes with tears. He tilts his head down to conceal the dampness gathering in his eyes. Fjord is overwhelmed by thankfulness for this woman’s sweetness, this girl who just gifted him life back and now is casually talking about fighting an ancient evil demigod for his sake. Some days —most days— he can’t believe she’s real at all. What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

“Okay,” he finally says, once he finds his voice again.

“Okay,” she agrees, softly, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting them go.

Jester stands up and he immediately mourns the loss of her body by his side.

“You should really get some sleep, Fjord,” she says, walking for the door.

“Yeah, about that, uh,” he speaks quickly, nervously, “would you- would you mind terribly if I asked you to stay?”

Just making the request is harder than fighting the scariest monster. It makes him feel vulnerable and small and ridiculous, but this is Jester and he trusts her.

“You want me to stay the night with you, Fjord?” Her eyebrows wiggle, suggestively.

Oh, gods.

“Just- just for a while, you don’t have to- I mean- not to do anything- I just. I... I can’t sleep.”

Whatever joke she’d been preparing, frizzles and dies in the tip of her tongue. He can see her face twist with something that once before he might have mistaken for pity but now knows to be kindness and compassion.

“Of course, Fjord,” she smiles sweetly at him. “I’m still feeling a little nervous from the battle too, you know, so I was thinking about drawing for a little while for the Traveler. Maybe- you have a desk here, I could draw here while you sleep a little.”

“Just until I fall asleep,” he promises. He has no intention of keeping her up all night. After what she did for him and Orly, she must be exhausted.

Jester nods and quietly makes her way to the desk. Fjord wonders if he should say something more, but anything he could add right now seems useless. The conversation has left him exhausted. He lays back down on the bed and watches as she opens her notebook and carefully selects her pencils. She’s humming to herself and the sound soothes whatever was still rattled inside him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, as his eyes begin to close.

Behind half-closed lids, he can see how she turns to him and smiles. “I’m glad you’re here too, Fjord,” she says. He’s not sure if he imagined the way her voice cracked a little or how she quickly rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. Sleep takes him swiftly.

His dreams are quiet, which is why he hears the voices. Fjord’s first instinct is to jump and fight, but one of them is Jester and she sounds at ease. The other voice is familiar, too, though less welcomed. The Traveler. Fjord doesn’t move, he carefully keeps his breathing steady and listens.

This is wrong, he shouldn’t be doing this, but he’s always been too curious for his own good.

And he does not trust this man as far as he can throw him.

“Thank you for coming when you did,” Jester is saying, with that gentle fondness that for a while Fjord thought was reserved for him.

“Of course,” the fey replies, voice melodic and dangerous at the same time, “he might be an idiot, but he is important to you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then, that is enough for me.”

Fjord feels another pang of guilt. He really shouldn’t be spying.

“Do you... do you think you can help us... with Uk’otoa?”

The fey hums. Fjord can picture him tilting his head, letting that stupid red mane spread across his shoulders.

“I do not know. I am afraid this creature is far more ancient than even me. However, I will be with you every step of the way. It should be fun.”

Fun?!

“Yeah, totally! It’s gonna be great when we finally kill it,” Jester agrees, cheerfully.

Fjord thinks of the creature lurking in the darkness of his dreams. The idea of Jester facing that horror makes him nauseous.

“But we have to figure out how to kill it,” she is still going on about it.

“Well, there is always a way to achieve death. I believe I am owed some favors in other planes, one of them might be able to aid us in this new... mission of yours.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know people in many planes? Are you very famous there?”

“Certainly,” The Traveler replies proudly.

Fjord knows a liar when he hears one.

“You’ll see. As soon as the Zenith has passed, I will have far more time to be with you. Ah, delicious freedom! And then, you and I can go and explore all these fun worlds together.”

What.

“Yes, it’s going to be so great!”

Jester’s leaving?

“Alright, then. Now, you better rest. You did very well tonight, my priestess. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“I will watch over your half-orcs dreams for now.”

After a few moments, Fjord hears Jester move across the room and leave. He waits still for a couple minutes before finally daring to open his eyes. The room is empty. He grapples with what he just eavesdropped in. It’s like being stabbed through the chest all over again.

Fuck.

#fjorester #fjord stone #jester lavorre #critical role #cr spoilers #cr fanfic #critter fic #sofia's nonsense

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author-morgan · 5 years ago

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Phobia ☤ Alexios

twenty-two - hekatoncheir trap

masterlist

“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.”

Fate decrees two kindred souls from two different empires will find one another, and the spear shall be made whole again

THE STORM PUSHES the Adrestia off-course and it is not until midday that they find their heading once more and soon after they dock. Irene looks around the dark soil and smoke billowing from the peak of one low-lying mountain. "Where are we?" She asks, having never ventured to this part of Hellas before.

"This is Melos," Barnabas remarks in his usual cheerful tone —nothing could dampen the old sailor’s spirits. "One of the Playgrounds of Ares." That explains the volcanoes then Irene thinks, catching a whiff of sulfur. Ikaros lands on the railing between her and Alexios.

"We restock and rest here," Alexios announces. The storm takes its toll on his crew. Many are already asleep above and below deck from manning the oars to keep from crashing into rocks during the storm. They need to gather supplies for minor repairs, restock barrels with potable water, and rest before continuing to Lakonia.

Irene, Iola, and Eppie take to the small agora —seeking out hearty foods capable of lasting weeks at sea. Alexios seeks a blacksmith or merchant to sell or trade the armor he’d found in a chest on the pirate’s war galley before the Aegean claimed it. The blacksmith of Melos is a grizzly fellow that stands a whole head taller than Alexios —his arms and neck thick and strong as trunks on young trees. “What can I do for you today, misthios?” He inquires.

The Eagle Bearer places the set of armor on the anvil and walks away with three heavy pouches of drachmae. He passes through the square and pauses to listen to a richly-clothed man speaking to a small gathering. “Warriors! Heroes! Mercenaries of all types!” He shouts. “Sign up here for the Battle of One Hundred Hands. Would you like to be rich? Are you the next Champion?” The man asks before catching a glimpse of Alexios in the crowd. “You, misthios. You look like a true contender.”

He returns to the Adrestia with a fresh glint in his eyes that reeks of mischief. Either he’s done something or is about to do something reckless. Irene passes a basket of fruit to Tyche and crosses her arms as she turns to face Alexios. "What have you done now?" She asks, immediately seeing through his innocent feint.

"There’s a contest,” he explains, gripping onto her hands, “if I win, we will be that much closer to eliminating another cultist.”

As soon as he says it, everything clicks in place for the princess. Melos. Contest. The Battle of One Hundred Hands. "Alexios! You fool!" Irene scolds. She knows this infamous contest, where thousands have come willingly to die in pursuit of glory and riches.

"I thought you had more faith in me,” Alexios smiles, and by the gods that charming smile could almost get him out of anything. She does not doubt his skills in battle, only his ability to face a hundred warriors with nothing to lose and everything to gain.

“And what am I supposed to tell your mother if you don’t make it?” Irene queries, crossing her arms. She doesn’t want to be the one to tell Myrrine her son died like so many others in a futile competition. He may fight like Achilles —Ares even— but even the mightiest of men can be slain by one arrow.

The princess follows Alexios back into the agora where she finds herself staring up at an oddly familiar face. "Drakios,” Irene greets, recognizing the merchant —though now his hair and beard are greyer since the last time he had visited Athens. Her frown starts to fade.

He steps down from the platform. Arms open and smiling. "That is not Irene of Athens is it?" Irene offers a smile and accepts the two quick kisses he places upon her cheeks in greeting. Alexios steps next to the princess, gripping onto her hand —invidious. "How is your brother?" Drakios questions.

Zephyr enjoyed campaigning for champions in Attika —had made acquaintances with many of those who came to Melos only to die in the pursuit of riches and glory. "Dead," she replies, receiving no sympathy from the merchant.

Flocks of fighters gather near city walls —contestants eager to spill blood. The start of the competition draws near. Drakios shifts his attention from the contestants back to Irene and the Eagle Bearer. "Join me on the wall,” he says, smile genuine though something heinous lurks in his dark stare, “you can have the best view to see this misthios carve his way to victory." The princess nods, accepting the offer with a tight smile.

Alexios takes his place among the other competitors at the gates leading to the sulfur-dotted landscape. Irene lays her hand on his cheek, holding his warm tawny-gold gaze. “Stay safe,” she breathes. He leans toward her and plants his lips upon hers for a short, sweet kiss —something to give him comfort in his last moments if the gods decide he is not meant to see another sunset.

Scaling the stone-steps to join Drakios in his grand booth feels like she is willingly walking into a trap. The merchant steps up to address the contenders. “We have gathered here again for the Battle of One Hundred Hands.” A pause as the participants glance around at one another. “Indeed, impressive warriors from all over the Greek world have come to test their might and skill against each other. Whether it is the sharpest sword in the Athenian army or the broadest shield Sparta can muster, all now stand alone against the many.” Spartans, Athenians, bandits, and those with no allegiance fighting to the death.

“At our climax, the final two contenders will face off on a special battlefield, but only one will be called Champion.” Roars erupt from below. “Let the Battle of One Hundred Hands begin!” Drakios shouts. His cry is echoed by a low horn blast, making the start of the battle.

Hours drag by —or at least to Irene it feels like hours— before the second horn blast. A quarter of those men and women already dead. “You’re making quite a name for yourself, princess,” Drakios sneers. Her blood runs cold. “I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head,” he laughs. Irene grips onto the splintered lance of the broken spear, but a guard stays her hand.

“This is all a rouse, isn’t it?” The princess queries, spitting at the merchant’s feet. A third horn blast rings out —half are dead.

He looks down disgusted. “You’re more perceptive than he is,” Drakios remarks. “We’ve hoped to lure Deimos’ sibling out for years,” he explains, grinning. “And now that Alexios is finally here he brings me a Persian princess, too.”

The guard releases his hold on her when the fourth horn sounds and two competitors approach the wall from the low-lying smoke. Irene's relief is palpable when she sees one of the survivors is Alexios. The other is a woman with a swarthy complexion, a shield of Athena strapped to her back. She is a warrior and her expression is that of cold determination to become a champion. "Who is she?" The princess asks.

"Roxana,” Drakios tells her, "a fearsome combatant. Had it not been for your dear misthios, she would have been the day's victor." There’s something akin to bitter disappointment lacing the words. Irene’s gaze hardens as she watches the merchant rise and spread his arms. "Come!” He calls. “We shall finish the battle in the shadow of the volcano in the east.”

IRENE LEAPS FORWARD, one hand clamping over a mouth, her knife plunging into a back, slicing between ribs, puncturing a lung. The guard in her grasp stiffens and hisses. She wrenches the spear free and stabs again, and again. The other Cultist guard is turning, sword already half out of its scabbard, his mouth open, drawing breath to yell. His effort is in vain. A sword crunches into his neck, cutting deep, blood spurting. Irene looks down at the two corpses.

"Guards!" Drakios shouts. Alexios looks around the ruins of the temple on Typhon's Crown but finds they are still alone. No one has answered the man’s call. "Guards!" He shouts again, panic seeping into his voice. Irene appears behind the battle's organizer instead of his men, wiping their blood from her spear on a torn swath of fabric from one of the corpses.

"They're dead," she announces coming to stand next to the Eagle Bearer, "now tell us what you know." Drakios refuses and settles for drawing the sword hidden beneath his robes, advancing with a flurry of slashes. Alexios deflects the blows to the side, creating an opening for Irene to strike. She does —the edge of her kopis bites into the merchant’s thigh and sends him to one knee. Alexios deals the killing blow, a tight slash across Drakios’ neck, despite his empty pleas for mercy. Good riddance the princess thinks, staring down at the corpse as blood seeps into the blackened earth.

Alexios looks down at the fallen warrior, Roxana. She'd fought valiantly and honorably for such an unjust end. He staggers back, groans then falls to his knees. "All these people died just for the Cult to find me.” His voice cracks —though he had not killed the ones who came before, it feels as though their blood is on his hands regardless.

Irene kneels in front of him, resting her forehead against his. Her hand slips down the front of his cuirass and comes away coated in blood. “You’re hurt,” she breathes.

He doesn’t protest the statement. "I'll be fine until we get back to the ship,” he says, pushing himself back up onto his feet.

Alexios doubles over before they can reach the Adrestia. This must have been the gods' will —to remind him he is not a true demigod. Irene slips her arm beneath his. "You'll be fine, huh?" She asks. His laugh is breathless as he drapes his arm over her shoulders. She can admonish him later, for now, they need to get back to the ship.

"Set a course to Sparta, Barnabas," Irene says as she helps the Eagle Bearer onto the Adrestia. The crew isn't sure what to think when they notice their commander limping and covered in his own blood —up until now he’s always been untouchable. Barnabas spurs the crew into motion from their gawking —lines are unmoored and cargo secured.

They collapse inside the small pavilion at the stern of the trireme. Irene undoes the pin holding the scarf over his shoulders in place and busies herself with the hooks and ties of his cuirass. Alexios shrugs off the breastplate and leans back against the bench. She undoes the shoulder buttons of his chiton and the stained linen pools low around his waist.

He spares a glance at the wound running from his hip to navel. It still weeps red and though it doesn't seem to be very deep —it's long. "See?" He groans. "Not that bad." The princess ignores his poor attempt at humor as she sorts through her provisions. Alexios watches in a daze as she grinds several dried flowers and herbs into a thin paste with rose oil in a shallow dish.

Irene moves closer to him and touches his cheek —hiding the unstoppered skin of strong wine behind her back. He looks at her from beneath hooded eyes and smiles against her lips when she kisses him. She gives him the brief reprieve before dumping the white vintage over the bloody gash. Alexios throws his head back and curses. "Maláka!" He glares at the princess, breathing labored until the burning and stinging start to fade.

"Sorry," Irene mutters, patting his side dry with a bundle of linen. "It needed to be cleansed." He doesn't say anything, only nods and leans back again, letting her continue her practiced ministrations. After she finishes applying the medicinal paste, Alexios reaches for his chiton but Irene stays his hand. "No," she says, shaking her head, "leave it uncovered." His brows furrow. "You nor I know for certain if what did that was laced with poison. I can catch any signs quicker without it being covered," the princess explains. Poison was a finicky thing —some took days or years to work, others could kill a man in a trice.

Alexios raises his brow. "If you wanted me naked, all you had to do is ask,” he replies in the smuggest tone he can manage.

Irene rolls her eyes and kisses his sweaty forehead. The gods both blessed and cursed her by bringing Alexios into her life. "Get some rest,” she whispers, shifting toward the entrance of the tent knowing Barnabas and Herodotus would be concerned. He grips onto her wrist before she can rise and draws the princess into his uninjured side, arms wrapping around her middle. Alexios isn’t ready to let her go —besides, the sweet scent of her hair and the steady, rhythmic beat of her heart help him sleep.

Alexios jerks awake in the night —panting with sweat beading on his brow. He’d dreamt of his family and the night on Taygetos that’d changed everything. He shifts, finding Irene is still lying next to him —her hand slipping down his chest until he settles back down. Alexios lays his hand atop hers and marvels at how delicate it feels beneath his.

He can’t help smiling at her sleeping form, admiring the curve of her lips, the way her eyelashes hit her cheeks —how serene she looks. His fingers card through her hair, cautious not to wake her, and he strokes over her collarbone to her shoulder and down her arm with his knuckles. She truly is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, he thinks, and he struggles to fathom that he’s the one allowed to lay beside her, delighting in her existence every night.

[@wallsarecrumbling; if you want to be tagged in any of my stories just send a message or an ask!]

#Alexios #Alexios x OC #Alexios Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #story: Phobia #my writing

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thesoftdumbass · 7 years ago

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Winged Men and Demigods

Jim Kirk x reader

1 Year Anniversary Challenge: Ancient Greece Myth

Summary: You are a demigod, the daughter of Selene, goddess of the moon. You are sent on a quest to capture storm-spirits, monsters, and receive some help along the way in the form of a winged man with blond hair and striking blue eyes.

Word Count: 6.6 K

Warnings: slight anxiety, weapons, fighting, storms, slight feelings of inadequacy, inferences of sexy times. Not beta’d. Barely edited. Lord help us.

Characters: Pythia, Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu, Spock, Christopher Pike, Montgomery “Scotty” Scott, Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk

Tags: @yourtropegirl @starshiphufflebadger @annathewitch

Walking around the garden of your small home in Delphi, Greece, watering the anemone and pulling weeds, you sense a presence behind you. Bending over casually as if smelling one of your flowers, you reach into the slit in your dress and unsheathe the celestial bronze dagger from your thigh holder. With precise movements, you spin in your place and hold the knife to the throat of the person invading your home.

“Am I supposed to feel threatened, demigod?” The Oracle of Delphi stands in front of you in her robes of bronze and scarlet, her face blank. You immediately remove the weapon, re-sheathe it and step back, bowing and then standing, your back straight with respect.

“I apologize, Pythia. I did not know that it was you.”

“Apparently,” she says, looking you over skeptically. “I am surprised you did not use your mother’s weapon.”

You smile sheepishly, twirling the ring on your finger. “You could have been anybody. I don’t want a stranger knowing my secret. Only you and the other demigods at the Temple know that I am half human. Unleashing the weapon could expose me”

“That is wise, young demigod,” she nods in approval.

“I do have a name, Pythia. Besides, I am no younger than you,” you point out.

“I am much older than I look, YN,” she puts an accent on your name and gives a small smirk. “You must be wondering why I have come to you.”

“It has crossed my mind, yes. Is something wrong?”

The Oracle sits down on a nearby bench and gestures for you to join her. You do, and after a few minutes of silence, she starts speaking. “Do you know of the Hurricane Winds?” Remembering the scrolls that you read from during your training when you were young, you nod your head. “So you must remember that they are kept on an island far away from civilization, under the rule of Aeolus.”

“Of course, they are only released when the gods need them,” you recall.

“Two of the Anemoi Thuellai have escaped the island, as I saw last night. Nobody knows how, but they need to be taken back before they cause irreparable damage to the mortal world. You and two other demigods will seek out and capture the storm spirits to be taken back to Aeolus. Your partners for the journey will join you at the Temple of Apollo in two days. Make sure you are ready to leave then.”

And so you were. Two days later, you left your home in the morning and made the walk to the Temple, carrying a pack filled with anything you might need on your journey; clothes, weapons, money, food, and maps of Greece.

You walk into the Temple around noon, the sun brightly shining down on you. Making your way to where the Pythia is, you see her standing with two other people, and you observe them as you walk. The woman is beautiful, dark skin and long silky hair, her almond shaped eyes set off by perfect cheekbones. The man that is with them, though he is clearly younger than you, is handsome as well. Blond hair sits in curls on top of his head, and his bright eyes widen as he catches sight of you nearing the group, a smile gracing his face.

“You must be YN!” he exclaims as you reach them.

“I am. And you are…” you say with an unsure smile.

“Chekov, Pavel Andreievich,” he steps forward and offers his hand, which you shake.

“I am Nyota Uhura,” the woman introduces with a smile and nod of her head.

“It is nice to meet you both.”

The Pythia let you get introductions out but decided to get to business. “The three of you can get to know each other better while on the journey. Right now there are things to discuss.”

Nyota, Pavel, and yourself nod respectfully and let her speak.

“I received a vision from Apollo last night. He told me that you need to consult the Anemoi. They can help you find the venti and capture them, you only have to be respectful of them. There is a boat at the docks waiting to take you to Thrace.”

“Will the wind gods know where the venti are, or do we have to search all of Greece?” Pavel asks, concerned.

“They will be able to tell you where to go,” she answers assuringly.

After this the Pythia walks you out of the Temple, leading you down the mountain and to the dock. The white sails of the ship flap in the breeze, the promise of smooth sailing ahead. Right before you walk up the ramp to board, the Oracle stops you.

“I wish you luck on your quest, may the gods be with you and protect you.”

“Thank you, Pythia. We will do what we have been chosen for,” you say.

You hear Pavel and Nyota also say farewells but you don’t want to eavesdrop, so you walk onto the ship and look around. You notice the captain walk across the deck, and your companions join you as he reaches where you are standing.

“My name is Captain Hikaru Sulu, welcome aboard. It’s an honor to have half-bloods with us,” he says warmly, his face adorned with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain,” Uhura says respectfully.

“We are ready to set sail, it should just be a few minutes now.”

“Can we pray before we go? I would like to ask for safe passage from my father,” Pavel asks modestly.

“Of course.”

The four of you gather into a circle on the deck of the ship, your hands joined and heads bowed, and Chekov starts to speak in his thick accent.

“Poseidon, we ask for safe travel over the sea, and for luck with our quest. Please protect my new friends and I as we journey to Thrace, and then wherever else the gods send us.”

With a few words of thanks and a promise to send burnt offerings at the next opportunity, you set off. Captain Sulu shows you to your quarters, three separate bedrooms on the same deck, and you settle in for the long journey, putting away the few things you brought with you and pacing around the room.

You have no idea what you’re up against, and even though you are a trained demigod with strength surpassing that of the average mortal, you are scared of what awaits you.

You head to dinner after failing to rest, your mind far too worked up for that, and are given a plate. You sit down at a nearby table and find yourself accompanied by Nyota and Pavel. You sit with them while they make small talk, content to just listen, but Pavel brings you into the conversation.

“I think we should all get to know each other better. YN, do you want to start? You haven’t talked much.”

“I guess so,” you clear your throat, “I wasn’t raised by my parents. I grew up at the Temple of Apollo, training for the day when I could help people, but this is my first quest. I moved into town when I came of age and have stayed there since.” You shrug, not knowing what else they would want to know about you.”

“What about your godly parent? Do you know who they are?” Nyota asks kindly.

“My mother is Selene,” you tell them. You understand why she asks that second question. Many demigods go their whole lives without being claimed by their parent, though luckily you had been claimed at a rather young age.

“Goddess of the moon! That is very exciting. Poseidon is my father, which you may have heard earlier.” Chekov’s eyes sparkle with silent pride and you nod, chuckling.

“What about you, Nyota? Do you know your parent?” you ask, becoming more invested in the conversation.

“Hermes,” she says with a humble voice. “My father is actually the reason that I study dialect, it comes to me naturally because he is the god of language.”

“That is fantastic! The only thing I can do is swim well,” Pav admits.

They both turn to you, asking silently for your input. “I didn’t get any special abilities, I can’t lead the moon’s chariot or anything like that. I do have a weapon that my mother gave me, I only like to use it when necessary, but it is nice to have.”

You continue speaking to your new friends all throughout dinner, learning more about each other and becoming closer. That night you go to bed with positive thoughts running through your head, your anxiety about the quest held at bay as you fall asleep.

The rest of the trip to Thrace passes quickly. You spend your time learning how to fight in harmony with Nyota and Pavel, listening to the Captain tell stories about his young daughter Demora, and watching the sea pass by from the bow of the boat. Sooner than you realize, you are leaving the ship.

“Be safe, my friends. If you need anything, my crew and I will be in Thrace for another two days, we could take you where you need to go,” Captain Sulu tells the three of you as you step off the ship, clasping a hand on each of your shoulders in a sign of friendship.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Hikaru,” Uhura says sincerely, and you leave, making your way to the cavern of the Anemoi.

When you arrive at the base of Mount Haemus, you look up at it in wonder. The mountain is covered with lush green plant life and clouds encircle the snowy caps, giving the mountain a majestic beauty. You love the view, there’s just one problem.

“We don’t have to go to the top of the mountain, do we?” you question.

“If so, then I am wearing the wrong sandals to hike in,” Pavel chimes in.

“Wait, look!” Nyota points, frowning in consideration at what is happening to the mountain. Slowly lines form and shift in the stone, revealing a grand doorway of gold and midnight blue just a few feet in front of you.

You brave a step toward the door that seems to be opening by itself, but take a step back when you find that someone has appeared in the doorway. The man before you stands tall with a stiff spine and his hands behind his back, his black hair laying over his forehead uniformly.

“Welcome to Mount Haemus, half-bloods. We were sent word of your journey to reach us. Please, come in.” You give a nervous glance to your friends but follow the man as he steps back through the opening. He stands back as the three of you enter and the gilded door closes behind you. “My name is Spock. If you will come with me, please.” Spock turns around and walks down the corridor that you are currently in, causing you to follow him. You only notice after a step or two that there is a pair of wings situated on his back. The torches illuminating the corridor cast off of the black feathers, silhouetting his bird-like appendages every few steps.

To prevent yourself from staring, you turn your gaze to the floor and the shadows playing against the marble tile as you walk. Finally entering a brightly lit cavernous space and looking around, you stand in awe at the marvelous paintings and sculptures, only to notice that Spock had continued walking without you.

You catch up with the group just as they reach the back of the room where there is a platform set above the ground, and on it stands four beautiful thrones, each adorned with different fabrics and precious metals. Only the third seat is taken, and the occupant stands as you near the platform. His hair is wavy and graying. His face is impassive and his eyes watch as you approach, soft gray wings extended out to his sides and radiating authority, even as he stands with a cane.

“Sir, these are the demigods whose journey we were told of,” Spock bows to the man in front of you out of respect and you follow suit.

“Please, stand up. There’s no need to bow.” You follow his request and stand straight. “My name is Eurus, but I go by Christopher Pike around here. Call me whatever you wish, my friends. What can I call you?”

Ny is first to speak up, “My name is Nyota Uhura, daughter of Hermes. It is an honor to be here, sir.” You and Pavel follow her lead and soon introductions are made, the five of you sitting down to dinner at a lengthy table, you and your friends have not eaten since breakfast on the boat. You are joined by two other men, one of them with floppy brown hair and kind hazel eyes disguised by what seems to be a permanent scowl, the other with thinning red hair and a friendly smile. They were introduced as Leonard McCoy and Montgomery Scott, respectively.

You’re waiting for the meal to start, sitting across from Leonard and listening to him talk about the work that Hippocrates is doing in the field of modern medicine, his brown wings rippling as he speaks happily. Another person enters the dining hall, his steps echoing loudly as he rushes to a seat, finding one to your right. He lets out a profanity as he sits on his wings, one only you can hear.

You chance a look as he adjusts in his seat and your breath catches, this is possibly the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His tan skin and golden hair remind you of Apollo, but the striking blue eyes that cast over you hold depths greater even than the sea. You shake yourself out of your daze though when Chris starts speaking.

“Ahh, Jim. I was wondering if you were going to join us for supper, we’ve been waiting for you. YN, Pavel, Nyota, this is James Kirk. He’s the last of my attendants, now you’ve met everybody but my brothers.”

“Sorry I’m late, Pike, I lost track of time while reading through my scrolls. It’s a pleasure to meet everybody.”

“It’s fine, Jim. Let us eat!”

With that, dishes start moving to the table, appearing as if from thin air. The Anemoi act as though it is an everyday occurrence and maybe it is, but you are not used to it and it seems that you’re not the only one.

“How do you get the food to float through the air like that?!” Pavel’s face shows awe and wonder.

“The dishes aren’t floating, the Aurai move them. They’re breeze nymphs, most people can’t see them unless one reveals herself to you. They work here with us,” Leonard tells Pavel, who smiles like he’s just learned a secret.

Food is passed around and wine flows until your stomachs are full and your thirsts are quenched, and then Chris decides to get to business.

“So what is the reason that you’ve graced us with your presence?” he asks cordially.

“It is the Anemoi Thuellai, sir. Two of them have escaped Aeolus’ Isle, and the three of us have been sent on a quest to capture them so they can be taken back. Apollo sent us in your direction, knowing that you would be able to help us locate the storm winds,” you say in a polite voice.

Pike listens as you speak, nodding decisively when you’re finished. “I’ll send some Harpies to scout, they will be back in the morning with the information you need. You are all welcome to stay the night, of course. I will make sure your rooms are ready soon, and the four of you can head out first thing in the morning.”

“Four of us?”

“But there are only three on the quest, sir.”

Pav and Nyota speak at the same time, and Chris just smiles at the confusion.

“I’m sending one of my attendants with you. While I am sure you are very capable demigods, the venti are extremely powerful beings and you may need some help. And I would go myself, but,” he gestures to his cane and his bad leg, “I can’t go on adventures anymore.”

“So which of us is joining the quest?” Montgomery, or Scotty as you had been informed to call him, asks the group.

“I can go,” Jim volunteers without hesitation. He hasn’t left the mountain in a long time and wants to stretch his wings, but that isn’t the only reason that he wants to join. From the moment that Jim Kirk entered the dining room, he has been mesmerized by the ethereal beauty currently sitting beside him, has listened to her speak throughout the meal, and now that he has an opportunity to spend more time with her, he won’t let it pass.

“Are you sure about that, son? It will not be easy,” Pike double checks.

“I’m happy to help, Chris.” Jim gives a bright smile and you’re surprised you don’t melt at the sight.

“Alright then,” Chris claps his hands and stands up, drawing everyone’s attention. “Len, Spock, the two of you gather a party of Harpies and send them to search for the two ventus and get back to me by the morning. We need to know where they are and what they’ve been up to. Scotty, can you help me make our guests’ rooms up?” When he receives affirmations, Pike sends everyone to do their tasks.

“Do I need to do anything, sir?” Jim asks, making to stand from his chair.

“You have a lot to do in the next few days, you should rest for now.” Pike turns and addresses your friends, “I’ll tell you when your sleeping arrangements are ready,” and with that, he walks out of the room.

It’s relatively quiet as you try to come up with something to say. You are already close with Ny and Pav, but you are hesitant to say anything, lest you embarrass yourself in front of Jim. You’re saved from having to fill the silence, though, as Leonard comes to rejoin the group.

“Harpies are on their way out, we should know something by dawn,” he says, sitting back down and reaching for a drink.

“That’s good, the venti have already been gone for so long. The sooner we can get them back to the island, the better,” Ny states.

The conversation picks up after that, just small talk to pass the time, and pretty soon Eurus comes back into the room and informs you that your beds are ready, sending you off so you can rest.

The next morning you peek your eyes open slowly, letting yourself wake fully before getting up and getting dressed. Just as you are securing your weapons in place, you hear a knock on the door to your bedchamber. You are greeted by the sight of Jim standing on the other side of the door, bright eyes shining as he notices you in front of him.

“Good morning,” you greet softly.

“Good morning YN, Chris asked me to bring you to the dining room for breakfast,” Jim says, sending a smile your way.

You nod with a smile, looping your arm through Jim’s, which he offered you. When you reach your destination Jim pulls out your chair for you, making your heart skip a beat at the gesture. You murmur your thanks and earn a nod in return as Jim sits down beside you. Breakfast passes by quietly, bread and honey filling you and giving you the energy you need for the day. Soon after, Pike shares with you what he has learned.

“The Harpies that were sent to scout returned this morning with some news. The two Anemoi Thuellai that have escaped are nearby Chios, an island in the Aegean sea and off the coast of Asia Minor. We do not know why this place has drawn them, but we must stop the storm-winds. They have already caused severe disturbances in the atmosphere and need to be stopped.”

“And how do we stop them? I know we take them back to Aeolus, but how can we capture them?” Pavel asks.

“I will provide you with a bag made of ox-hide to carry the venti in. You must keep both of them busy until they are within close range of each other and then open the bag, they will be drawn in. As soon as they are inside, secure the bag and they will not be able to escape.” Chris allows you to absorb that information for a few moments before speaking again. “Now, do you have transportation to Chios island or shall I arrange for some?”

“We have a friend at the port of Thrace, he said that he would help us, he will still be at the dock,” you tell them of Hikaru and how helpful he has been.

“Wonderful. While I’m getting everything ready to go, you can spar to stay ready for the venti.”

You are led into a large training room in the cavern, covered in mats, a wall to one side loaded down with weapons. You survey the rack of swords, longing to hold the weight of your own again. You feel somebody step up beside you as your finger brushes along the edge of a shined blade, the handle glowing gold.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you hear Kirk speak reverently by your ear, one of his large hands reaching out to grasp the handle and lifting the sword from its perch.

“It is… it makes me miss using my own.”

“So why don’t you?”

You touch the adamantine ring on your right hand, wishing to unleash the weapon inside. As long as it doesn’t hurt anybody, you think, why not? “I suppose I will.”

You take a few steps and end up in the middle of the floor, looking around to make sure that no one is nearby before closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. Channeling your energy in a short burst as you exhale, you feel the familiar weight of your blade in your grip and move your hand in a small wave, allowing the sword to swing around in a showy move. You hold it up in front of your face, the crescent-shape of the crossguard glittering in the lights of the room.

Applause breaks out around you, giving you a burst of confidence, and you rotate your sword a few times in the air around you. “Zat is incredible,” you hear Pavel’s unmistakable accent and smile.

“YN, how did you do that,” Nyota asks, impressed.

You shrug, giving a reserved smile. “I told you that I got this from my mother, well… I harness a little bit of energy from the moon and turn the ring into what it was truly made for, protection… I don’t really know how to explain it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders once more.

You look around at your friends grinning back at you, but a breath catches in your throat at the look of absolute awe on Jim’s face. He catches you looking at him though, causing your face to heat up and you to avert your eyes. Clearing his throat he steps forward, reaching a hand out to you.

“May I?”

“Of course,” you answer, thinking that he is going to compare both of your weapons, but before you can pass it over, your instincts kick in and you block the hit that he sends toward you. You bring your arm up to counter-attack, which Jim sees coming and defends. It goes like this for a few minutes before you’re bent over, hands on knees and breathing heavily. Calling it a truce, you reach out a hand to Jim, which he accepts.

Allowing your heart rate to slow back to normal, you look around you. During your sparring match, everybody had dispersed into their own fights and you watch as Nyota gains the upper hand on Spock, but before she can strike, Spock leaps to avoid her weapon, spinning mid-air with his wings folded around him in a protective cocoon before coming down several steps from her. You can’t help it, you clap your hands in admiration for the swift movements and Spock bows stiffly to show his appreciation.

You go over basic fighting maneuvers until Scotty and Chris come into the training room, the former carrying a large satchel in his hands. Chris waves his hands for everyone to gather in the middle of the room and you do, Scotty’s wings fluttering as he merrily explains how to use the special ox-skin to capture the venti.

Once the four of you have memorized the new information, you are sent to gather your belongings from your rooms and prepare to leave the cavern and Mount Haemus behind. Gathering your pack and ensuring that your sword is safely back on your finger, you make your way to the throne room to say goodbye to your host and depart.

Jim leads your group through the corridors, walking to town and back to the docks where you meet Hikaru and his crew once again. “My friends,” he greets with a smile and open arms before his eyes land on Jim standing at the back of the group. If he finds Kirk’s wings to be out of the ordinary he doesn’t let on, just introducing himself in a friendly manner.

Pavel tells Captain Sulu about the information you have received and he plots a course for Chios, setting sail not long after. This trip on the boat passes much like the first, nothing remarkable happening for the entire journey. That is until you are approaching your destination. The closer you get to the island of Chios, the rougher the seas are, sending the ship lurching in the rising waves.

High winds cause the sails to thrash uncontrollably and dark clouds become even more ominous. Sulu steers the ship into an alcove of the island to avoid rocky shores, narrowly being missed by a flash of lightning.

“Where is that storm coming from? The weather was clear only this morning,” Hikaru is confused.

“That would be the venti,” Kirk says darkly, the feathers on his wings bristling.

“I’ve read about the Anemoi Thuellai, but there is not much information about them, only that they wreak havoc over the seas,” Nyota offers.

“I’m guessing that we are about to learn a lot more about them,” Pavel swallows as the ship pitches, and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

“So, do we have a plan?” you ask, looking around at your group hopefully.

“Eurus told us to distract the storm-winds and get them close. I think that one of us should control the container while two others lead them to the south side of the island, away from the village. We can meet at the center of the island, opening the bag and drawing them inside. Scotty said that the ties you close it with are magic and will hold for as long as they need to, allowing us to take them to Thrace.”

“Good luck, demigods. I will be here when you get back,” Captain Sulu assures you.

Nyota’s plan is simple, but it’s a good one. Walking off the bridge and out the door onto the deck of the ship along with your friends, you are stopped by a hesitant touch to your arm. Looking back, Jim is behind you, facing you with a look that you can’t decipher. He quickly moves his hand away. A look of determination fills his face then, though his eyes display a softness.

“Be careful, YN,” he says, softer than you had heard him speak before.

“You too, Jim,” you smile, reaching for his hand and giving his fingers a comforting squeeze. Amber wings unfurl and stretch before your eyes, beating against the tempest and taking Jim into the air. You watch as he moves toward the small town on the edge of the island, ensuring that the citizens of Chios are safe and have taken shelter.

You climb over the rail on the port side of the vessel and descend the ladder into the shallow water beneath you, wind pushing waves up over your knees and making it difficult to get to your destination quickly, but you manage. You reach the shore where Ny and Chekov are waiting for you and tie your hair back, preventing the wind from whipping it around.

Nyota double checks that the ox-hide is secured to the belt around her waist and looks at you steadily, her brown eyes unwavering. “You two know what you have to do?” You and Pavel give affirmations and Uhura nods. “Bring the venti my way. Stay safe, and we’ll get these monsters back to where they belong.”

You split ways with Ny, moving alongside Pav to where the typhoon appears to be strongest. You fidget as you walk, twisting your mother’s ring around your finger. Pavel notices and asks if you are alright.

“I’m okay, Pav, thanks. I’m just anxious. I’ve never fought a storm before, and I don’t even know how effective I will be in a brawl,” you lift your arms in exasperation.

“I have no idea what I’m doing either. None of us have had to do this before, not even Jim. The best we can do is to stay level headed and put our minds to work. We will succeed.” Chekov’s assurances help clear your head, giving you confidence for the first time since you left Delphi and you tell him how much it means to you.

As you approach the Anemoi Thuellai, you hear a flapping noise even above the wind and Jim touches down beside you, hair sticking to his face from the rain that you are currently being subjected to.

“Everybody in the village is safe, I told them to stay indoors,” he says before you can ask.

“That’s good, we don’t want anybody hurt that doesn’t have to be,” Pav speaks up.

“These guys are bad news, I got a good look as I was flying overhead,” Jim warns as he removes his sword from its scabbard.

“Let’s do this, then,” you summon a bit of energy and your sword is once again held firmly in your grip. Pavel raises his spear high, letting out a loud yell and gaining the nearest storm’s attention.

That may have been a mistake.

The ventus turns toward your trio and you can barely see it from behind the wind and rain. Their entire form is made up of the storm; dark clouds swirling in a vaguely humanoid shape. Bright balls of light distinguish the beast from the storm it is creating, lightning extending out every few seconds. You look up in horror, guessing your opponent’s height to be around ten feet… far above your height.

The daimone lets out a powerful roar that sounds distinctly like thunder, causing its friend to face you also. Immediately you raise the sword in your hand, swinging at the monster nearest you. You puncture its leg and a bright light erupts from the wound, diminishing the storm clouds, but it only serves to anger it more. Lightning crackles around you and it’s as if you can taste the electricity in the air. You inflict several more wounds, dark gray slowly being replaced by a soft glow, but it’s still not enough.

You turn away quickly, preparing to run, but you’re surrounded before you can move a step. You are shielded from the wind and rain and you open your eyes only to be met by the sight of Jim. His wings wrapped around the both of you protectively and you have to stop yourself from thinking about how /soft/ they are.

You’d lost track of your friends as you fought, but Jim had been circling in the air, hitting the ventus’ defense and came to help when your adversary got too close. You still heard Pavel fighting the other monster a few hundred feet away. You look back at Jim, his face holding concern for you and you answer his unasked question.

“I’m alright.”

“Okay YN, now we need to run, we have to get over to Nyota. She’s waiting with the satchel, and I think the venti are mad enough now to chase after us. When I let you go I need you to run to the rendezvous point. I will be behind you and Chekov the whole time if you need my help.”

“Thank you,” you say breathily and lean forward to place a chaste kiss on Jim’s lips, not even noticing as his jaw goes slack in shock and happiness.

He unfurls his wings from around you after you return your sword to its original form, and you do as you were told, making a break for it. “Pav!” you yell, indicating for the younger man to follow after you. It takes a few moments but you feel his steps sync up with yours and hear him panting in exertion. You look behind you to confirm that the venti are following you and they are, their energies sparking off one another.

Facing forward again, you empty your mind of thoughts and worries and just let yourself breathe, losing yourself in the action of placing one foot in front of the other and find yourself looking at Nyota in the distance.

The world around you becomes a blur as you close in on Ny and the venti advance on the three of you. The next thing you know you’re looking up at the suddenly clear sky from between Jim’s arms, the ox-skin glowing as the storm-winds try to escape the magic containing them.

“We did it,” Pavel mutters to himself almost disbelieving, and then shouting. “We did it!”

You giggle at his excitement and allow yourself to catch your breath, tucking your head into Jim’s shoulder and reveling in the victory.

“We thank you for the help you have provided us on this quest, we will be forever grateful for your hospitality, sir,” Uhura addresses Eurus as the four of you stand in front of the platform in the throne room of Mount Haemus.

“It was my pleasure, Nyota. Thank you for bringing the venti back, now Spock has been able to return them to their isle. You are all welcome to stay as long as you wish, we need some excitement around here.” Pike addresses all three of you, but his gray eyes sparkle as they linger on you and Jim standing so close to each other. Your cheeks warm and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, averting your eyes.

You and Jim had become extremely close on the trip back to Thrace, staying up late talking, sharing your love for the stars, and getting to know each other better, so much that you began to let yourself imagine spending more time with him.

“We appreciate it, Chris. If it is acceptable, we would like to stay for a few days before making our way back to Delphi. We have been traveling for so long, and Captain Sulu and his crew need time to rest before setting sail again.”

“Any time. Your rooms are still ready from when you were last here. I will see you all at dinner,” Pike dismisses you all. You grab your bag and head for your quarters, but a voice stops you before you are halfway there.

“YN, can we talk for a few minutes?”

Jim’s voice is timid and you stop walking, curious. “Of course.”

He leads you to a library, large shelves displaying different texts and tables covered in scrolls. You take a seat at one of these tables and wait for him to speak. You can see him thinking through how to phrase his words, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times. After a few minutes, you decide to try and get him to spit it out.

“Jim,” you say softly, approaching his pacing form, and his wings flutter as he turns to face you and you smile. “Are you okay?”

This seems to do the trick, as he finally speaks what is on his mind.

“Would it be ludicrous if I asked you to stay with me? Here at the cavern, I mean. I know you have a home in Delphi and I wouldn’t want to tear you away from that, but,” he can’t seem to find the words for a moment, “I think I love you. It may seem laughable, but I have been enamored since I laid eyes on you, and fallen more and more each time we talk. I don’t want you to feel pressured into staying here, but if you want… you have a place at Mount Haemus.”

As Jim finishes his monologue, you turn your gaze to him. You had been trying to process his words, and looking into his sincere eyes, you believe him. Jim isn’t someone who would lie about something so serious, but you’re still shocked. You had never thought of yourself as anything special, your mother’s blood and protection the only thing that set you apart, but the way Jim is looking at you tells you differently. Thinking back on it, he had only ever looked at you in adoration and respect.

As you are evaluating your own feelings, Jim is silently freaking out. Did he read you wrong, and you weren’t really interested in him? Was that too much to dump on you all at once? The mute environment is too much and after a few minutes, Jim really has to say something.

“YN?” You look up into his vulnerable face, watching as he tries to deduce your thoughts. After a moment, though, he gives up. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Jim?”

“I… shouldn’t have rushed all of that out. I can give you time to think-”

“I love you too,” you interrupt him before he can take his invitation back, “what more is there to think about? I would love to stay here with you, if you’re still offering.”

“I am still offering,” he speaks hurriedly, reaching his arms around you in an embrace. After a minute he pulls away, brow furrowed. “What about your life in Delphi though, your friends and family?”

“I don’t have any family back there. And my friends, they are here with me. If I stay, they will surely come visit. And if I haven’t imagined it, Spock and Nyota seem to be getting familiar. I doubt it will be long before something happens between those two,” you chuckle.

“Are you sure you want to be with me,” he asks, his eyes gleaming with hope.

“I am sure. I love you, Jim,” you murmur.

The moment between the two of you changes and you feel yourself leaning towards him, your lips touching briefly. You open your eyes when you feel Jim pull back, but soon enough his lips are back on yours and your senses are engulfed by all of him.

“Let’s go tell everyone the good news, shall we,” he says, his voice husky with desire, “or better yet, maybe I can show you to your room first…”

You shudder at the unspoken proposition and lean into him further, placing a kiss to his jaw “I really like that second option…” and giggle as you take the lead down the hallway to your bed, ready for a long life ahead of you spent with Jim.

Post-A/N: So what did you guys think? I hope you enjoyed reading this! It took me so long to write, and I know it’s pretty long, but I am so glad you stuck with me ‘til the end. I know that it’s not perfect, I probably got a lot of details wrong and also left some characters in the background, but I tried. Really hard. I need sleep...

I wrote this in the present tense, as you can see. If you have a preference about which tense I use (past/present/both) then I can try to do that next time., this one just turned out this way. I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s Day!

#yourtropegirlchallenge #historicalauchallenge #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #jim kirk x you #star trek #star trek aos #star trek imagine #star trek aos imagine #chris pine #chris pine x reader #chris pine x you #chris pine imagine #jim kirk #ancient greece #ancient greece au #wing!fic

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