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minniepetals · 5 years ago

Text

nightlight

— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort

— rec music: finding hope - nightlight

Starlight star bright.

Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.

A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours.

You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.

Your father doesn't love you.

If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.

The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.

Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.

Beautiful even.

Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.

That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.

Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.

Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.

"Why do you always stay awake?"

You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.

Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.

"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"

He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.

He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.

Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.

"Then sleep."

As if it is easy.

As if it had always been easy.

"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.

You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?

You wonder if your mother is alright.

But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.

"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"

"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."

"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."

"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."

"That should be his words, baby, not yours."

You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.

"You know how to treat wounds?"

Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.

"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."

He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"

"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."

"You're his daughter."

You don't reply, just keeping quiet.

But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.

You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.

He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.

But it looks like that isn't the likely story.

He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.

You're not a pawn anymore at this point.

But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.

The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.

It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.

Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.

Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.

"Why don't you ever complain?"

You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.

Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.

"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"

You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.

"It's fake," you whisper.

His brows crease.

"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."

"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."

"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."

"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."

You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.

You're afraid to ask. .

The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.

Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.

"A-hem."

Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.

The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"

"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.

"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.

"It...interests me."

"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"

"...Hades and Persephone, sir."

Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.

"What about that story interests you?"

"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."

"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."

"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."

He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.

You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.

Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.

"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."

Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."

Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.

A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.

You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.

Are they not afraid of you escaping?

Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.

They'll hunt your father down.

He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.

You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.

Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.

Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.

Another walks up to you and another.

You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.

"How about we ditch this party?"

Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.

"You know, you look quite familiar."

You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.

But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.

Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."

But he only laughs.

They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.

But it is and you hate it.

Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.

"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.

You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.

Maybe it's because you know him.

A little.

When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."

He scoffs. "For what?"

You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"

It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."

You look over at where he beckons.

A hallway.

"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.

"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.

When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.

The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.

It's hard but you keep running.

Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.

You have to run.

Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.

Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.

Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.

"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.

You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.

Because the youngest only shrugs.

"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."

"Then why'd she come with you?"

"She's just a maid."

The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"

"You're sick for an old man."

He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.

His dirty, disgusting tongue.

It breaks you.

Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.

Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.

You can't do this.

You're still pure.

You can't...you can't.

"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."

He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"

But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.

Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.

His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.

You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.

"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."

He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.

A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.

Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.

When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.

He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.

How can he ever be satisfied?

His family is gone, never to return to his side.

A lost man. A lost child.

You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"

"Get away from me, you whore!"

You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"

Yet Jungkook doesn't care.

"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."

He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"

He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not-"

"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."

You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.

You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.

And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.

What a lovely pair of hands.

So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."

"Jungkook-!"

The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.

Jungkook's crying.

Holding you.

He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.

And now you.

You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.

Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.

Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.

So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.

Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."

What a cute little thing.

"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."

Sir.

He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."

You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."

You aren't worried about that.

For some reason.

But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.

But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.

He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.

He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.

So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.

You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.

It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.

You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.

You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.

He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.

"Um..-"

He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.

Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.

"...hi," you squeak.

Taehyung laughs. "Hi."

"It's um...cold."

"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."

"Do you often swim at night?"

He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."

"Won't you get a cold?"

"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."

"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."

The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"

You blink. "You want me to?"

"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."

You bite your lower lip. "Right."

"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."

You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."

"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."

It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.

The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.

"Hey, you okay?"

You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.

"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.

"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."

"I'm fine," you insist.

But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."

What a cute revelation.

"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"

And if you do, what will he do?

"Or do you need a nightlight?"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."

"But you can't sleep."

"I'm used to it."

Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."

You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.

"I get scared."

It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.

He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.

"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.

But you don't.

It only falls to your lap.

"The nightmares," you say.

He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.

Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.

Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.

Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.

"What are they of?" He carefully asks.

"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."

You've never spoken of your mother except now.

He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.

Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.

"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."

"Y/N..."

He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.

"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."

"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."

"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"

"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."

"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"

"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.

"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."

You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.

"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."

"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.

He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.

The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.

And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.

He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.

"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.

"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.

You stir a little and he hushes you softly.

"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.

You look so vulnerable.

Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.

But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.

"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.

"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.

Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.

So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."

"Your father has gone off my radar."

"O..oh..."

You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.

"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"

"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."

You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.

"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"

He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.

For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.

Worse than him, a mafia leader.

Because at least Namjoon has a heart.

"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."

Business over his own daughter.

What a piece of crap.

"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"

"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.

There's a moment of silence as you think it over.

"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"

"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."

A choice at your own life.

How different has life finally changed for you.

You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"

"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."

Yet he is still your father.

A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.

"It's your call, baby."

Your call.

No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.

Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.

And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.

But you don't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.

Yet Namjoon remains patient.

"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."

It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.

So lonely.

So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.

"You don't hate it here?"

You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."

"This world I live in should scare you more."

"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"

"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."

He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.

All but the intense beating of your heart.

All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.

It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.

"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."

"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."

Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."

"And...you?"

A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"

You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.

"Good girl."

Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.

"He's dealt with," the man informs you.

Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.

More than good.

You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.

But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.

So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.

"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."

"Did he...mention me?"

A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.

And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.

You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.

Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.

You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.

So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.

He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.

You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."

Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.

"Sleep, sweetheart."

He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.

So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.

He's cold but you welcome it.

"Thank you, Hoseok."

"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.

Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."

Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.

Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."

"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.

"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.

"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"

"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."

"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."

Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.

Too soft.

And quick.

You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.

Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."

"Jin...?"

He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.

Something you can never come to ever decipher.

"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"

He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.

When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"

His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.

He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.

After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.

But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.

"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."

The nightmares, right.

"I just need to know."

He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"

You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.

"...may I?"

He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"

You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."

The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.

Peaceful and friendly looking.

"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.

It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.

How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.

You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.

Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.

You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.

But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.

Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?

Would she forgive you at all?

Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.

You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.

It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.

You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.

There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.

Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...

Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."

"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."

"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"

Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.

Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.

But she's escaped that.

Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.

Your half sister, your step father.

"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.

So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.

"Let's go home."

Home.

The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.

The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.

"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"

You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.

Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod against him. "Hungry."

He chuckles lightly.

2 am.

There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.

You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.

"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.

You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"

"You."

How cute.

It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.

"Come in, then."

They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.

"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.

Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."

"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.

Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.

And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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Persephone's Symphony | Day One | Persephone

Hey lovelies— so as per my usual shenanigans I've decided this will have no schedule and that I will play god to my own creation because what is life without some chaos? The pros are you might not have to wait a week between updates, the cons are you might have to wait a week between updates. In all seriousness, please enjoy my lovelies!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 3.1k

Previous | Next

Master List

She can’t hear what the man in the truck says to him— the walls of this house are surprisingly thick. She supposes that’s a good thing. It means she will be able to go about her days normally while cooped up here. Well, as normal as possible. She doubts she’ll be able to get away with her three am rom-com marathons and ice-cream binges. She doubts she’ll get away with screaming in her sleep— and in the shower and at the breakfast table and when doing any, little thing that makes her remember that her life is one, constant nightmare.

It’s only three days— all she has to do is stay awake for three days.

While his head— her body guard’s head— is turned she leans against the kitchen sink, inching back the white lace curtain for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s like a little game at this point. She peeks at him, his eyes snap to hers, and she squeals and drops the curtain. Thank god the walls are thick. It’s almost unnerving how tuned he is to every little movement— not almost, it is unnerving but she supposes that is what makes him a good fit for this job. A good fit for keeping her alive. Like she has been doing for months now, she ignores the way her chest squeezes painfully.

Through the little strip of window that she allows for herself, she traces over his features one last time. Cropped black hair, a square jaw, at least two days worth of stubble. He looks like a bodyguard— rough, dangerous, manly— and that’s before taking into account the sheer size of the man. She is on her tiptoes, one hand pushing against the stainless steel below her for dear life, and she still has to crane her neck to properly see his face. She refuses to let her eyes wander any further than that— she had already glimpsed at the rest of him when he had made the short walk from the truck to the house. She already knows he’s massive.

His eyebrow twitches and she drops the curtain— she may not be as fast as he is but she’s a quick learner. Had she held the curtain open longer she is sure his eyes would have flicked to hers again. Those are the rules of the game, after all. She hears a muted thumping and the door handle jiggle from across the room, spinning towards the faded farmhouse door. She watches as the door handle turns, her throat tight, wondering where all the air in the room went— it was there a second ago.

The door pushes open and she jumps away from the sink, only just realizing what it’ll look like if he comes inside to her still hunched over the window. Of course, he’s already seen her but that’s beside the point. Part of the game is not talking about the game. A boot comes into view— the black, military grade kind— and it hits her like a punch to the gut that this is real— there really is someone out there trying to kill her. Now she really can’t breath. She can only force her lungs to expand to draw in some oxygen before her bodyguard finds her sprawled in an unconscious heap on the ground.

The boot is quickly followed by a leg, which is then, by default, followed by a torso and a head. A head that turns and watches her freeze, red handed like a bandit, in the middle of the kitchen. Gods, she should have just kept leaning against the sink— this is worse! Her hands are up and everything, shot out in front of her like she’s about to jump him or something. Yes, her— the girl currently in a hoodie that pools around her legs, displaying her knobby knees and bad posture— about to jump him— the man who had to practically duck to get through the doorway. She could laugh. In fact, she almost wishes he would laugh at her. She wishes he would do anything but look at her with that blank expression and those ice blue eyes.

“Uhm—” she blinks, trying to think of something to say other than holy shit you’re a giant— which, for the record, is what she wants to say— “hi?”

Are you serious, y/n?

He tilts his head at her and she almost cries. Not the same fear ridden, heartbroken, panicky cries of late. More so the awkward, why the fuck would you say that to the man charged with keeping you alive brand of cries. The normal kind. She drops her hands to her sides, slipping them into the pouch of her hoodie and tangling her fingers together. She can only allow herself to display one embarrassing thing at a time.

The man stays silent for a moment, each second of which makes her cheeks flame hotter and hotter, before finally opening his mouth. “Hi.”

Her chest deflates— some of the heat subsiding. He copied her. Whether purposefully or mockingly it alleviates some of the stupidity she’s feeling. She takes a few steps backwards, her bare feet pittering rather loudly over the worn hardwood. Well, that didn’t last long— there’s that embarrassment again.

“I’m y/n,” she squeaks out— gods, is Mickey Mouse in the building? “I guess you already know that though, huh?”

It was a stroke of genius putting her hands in her pocket— at least now he can’t see the way they shake furiously. She has to resist smashing her head against the sink. Nothing about this situation is optimal, to say the very least. Here she is making small talk with a man who could tear her in half. Her eyes drift to where his red henley pulls taut around his biceps— are they bigger than her head?

“James—” her eyes flick back up, face hotter than the sun, both from her blatant staring and the deep gravel of his voice— “but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes widen. She doesn’t know why, probably because she’s an idiot or because she isn’t expecting him to say more than three words. He seems like the strong, silent type. Maybe that is just the rom-coms though. Maybe her brain is just mush now.

“Okay,” she all but whispers, backing further into the sink. His piercing eyes have yet to leave her— something which makes her knees knock together and fingers clench. “Which should I call you?”

He tenses, his dark eyebrows pulling together, and she has to swallow the bile that rises in her throat. It’s day one and she’s already offending him. She pulls her lip between her teeth, biting down until the tangy, metallic taste that she has grown too familiar with these past months floods her mouth. She tells herself that she does it to keep from cursing. Lying to herself is another game she likes to play.

The longer he remains quiet, the more she regrets asking the question. His blue eyes are still latched on her, drifting over the space between her eyes and her busted lip, but somehow they also seem miles away. She can’t tell if he’s looking at her— seeing her— or if he’s seeing something else entirely. It isn’t until she pushes off the counter, taking a hesitant step forward, her foot slapping against the wood like it’s trying to embarrass her again, that he blinks. She pulls one of her hands from the puddle that is her hoodie, sliding it over her hair. Can he see the way it shakes?

Probably.

“Nevermind, forget I asked. It was a dumb ques—”

“Bucky,” the word is rushed out, falling over her own stuttered babbling. He slows after that, his face remaining stoic but his cheeks dusting with the slightest hint of pink. “Call me Bucky.”

She doesn’t point it out— she doesn’t have a death wish. Her being here right now, standing across from a literal giant, barefoot and shaking, is proof enough of that. Instead she nods gently, lowering her hand slowly. He’s not going to attack her— he isn’t a wolf— but still she takes the precaution. Better safe than sorry.

“Bucky it is then.”

He nods stiffly and she pretends like it doesn’t make her hands shake harder. She waits for him to speak, eyes drifting over the blue cupboards and the breakfast nook, taking in the applications of the home and trying not to scream. She feels so out of place, not used to the warmth in the room— the lingering smell of yeast and the flowers in the vase on the table. She used to bake all the time. Now she can barely bring herself to microwave frozen dinners. The sun that filters through the crack in the curtains and lands against her cheek feels like pure fire. She spends her days in the dark— she wouldn’t be surprised if she was allergic to the sun itself now. Allergic to all the things she used to enjoy.

The silence is too much— she has to speak to keep her throat from closing. If she doesn’t then it may not open again.

“So—” she draws the word out, her eyes flopping to the floor where her toe scuffs against a particularly worn board— “we just kinda follow each other around then?”

His face doesn’t change, his lips remaining in the same, expressionless line— a master of one trade. “Pretty much. I follow you.”

“And make sure I don’t die.” She fills the rest in— there’s no point not to. He’s definitely seen the pictures.

Finally his expression shifts, his lips pressing together tersely. It’s an answer in it’s own right— he pities her. He shifts his weight between his feet, the floorboards creaking below him. It could just be her but the sound slices through the room— loud and unforgiving— and she can’t stop the way she flinches. He freezes, obviously noticing her reaction. She almost slaps herself. Leave it to her to make an already tense situation worse. Is it going to be this awkward the entire time?

“You’re not going to die.” His voice is softer than his boots, barely reaching her ears as it cuts through the rigid atmosphere.

She doesn’t know what to say— how do she tell her bodyguard that she doesn’t believe him? He’s supposed to be the one saving her life. It feels risky to suggest that he wouldn’t be able to do that. Like telling the universe that she wants to die. She doesn’t want to die. It’s just hard not to think about death when it follows her everywhere she goes. For twenty-four years she was just y/n. Now look at her.

The queen of death.

She doesn’t know what to say so instead she changes the subject.

“Are you hungry?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She makes grilled cheese for lunch. It is nothing special but the smell of the butter alone makes the energy she has to scrape together to make them worth it. She can’t remember the last time she cooked like this— the last time she tasted anything but freezer burnt macaroni and lumpy gravy. A couple times she almost drops the spatula, her fingers not used to having to be so coordinated, but the promise of melted cheddar has her fighting through the tremors. That and the audience of one, standing next to her with his arms crossed like he’s judging her culinary skills rather than looking for snipers.

It’s all in her head. That’s what she tells herself at least.

“You want extra cheese?”

She can feel Bucky’s eyes on the side of her face— is there something on her cheek? “Sure.”

It’s all in her head.

She flips the sandwiches, watching as the fluffy white bread is replaced with a perfect, golden brown toast. Her stomach growls, the sound somehow louder than the sizzling pan in her hand. The scream bubbles in her throat again— fuck. Why must everything she does be so humiliating? Why can’t she just keep it together for three days!

“Bacon?” Cue the voice crack.

“Bacon?” He repeats the word back like he hasn’t the faintest clue what a pig is— like somehow he’s a giant of a man but has never touched a piece of meat in his entire life.

Like it’s the dumbest question he has ever been asked. She swallows— hard— her cheeks pooling with heat again. She’s starting to wonder if it ever even left. If he asks she’ll blame it on the steam rising off the pan or her hoodie or both. But he won’t ask— he won’t speak until he has to. It did not take her long to gather that fact.

“You’ve never had bacon on grilled cheese?” It feels like he’s glaring at her.

It’s all in her damn head.

The floorboards groan underneath Bucky again and instead of flinching this time she tries to imagine what they might be saying. Save me, he’s crushing me! She flicks her eyes down, glancing at those military grade boots and then at her own toes, tiny and feeble compared to the size of his gear. One wrong step and her foot would likely be broken. She isn’t too worried about that though— he seems careful. His movements thus far have been slow and calculated, skirting around her and leaving at least a few feet between them at all times. Maybe that isn’t to keep from stepping on her though— maybe he just doesn’t like her. She wouldn’t blame him.

“You say it like that’s unheard of.” He doesn’t say it angrily but there’s no exuberance in his voice either— just the monotone she’s come to expect. It’s been one hour and she can already see how the next seventy-one are going to play out.

“Where I’m from it is.”

There’s a pause— the sound of butter crackling against the pan and of the steady picking up of rain against the kitchen window as it eats away at the sunshine— and she’s expecting the conversation to drop there. He isn’t there to entertain her, after all. That’s what the TV is for— what Leonardo DiCaprio is for.

But then there’s an answer. “Where are you from?”

The corner of her mouth lifts— an action so foreign she can practically see the dust shedding from her rusty smile— and she turns from the frypan long enough to meet his icy eyes and to throw out an arm, putting the front of her hoodie on display for the stoic man.

“SoCal.”

Her mouth lifts higher when Bucky raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. He could be mocking her but she chooses to believe he’s interested. She chooses to believe that they are making progress and that she won’t have to spend three days talking to the walls. She turns back to the sandwiches, flipping them for the last time before laying down a few strips of bacon next to them.

She isn’t expecting him to keep going but she also isn’t complaining when his voice tickles her ears again. “Caltech, huh? S’that Pasadena?”

She tries to keep her smile from morphing into a full blown grin— she isn’t sure if her poor lips would be able to handle it. It’s been too long since she last used her mouth this much; both for smiling and talking. “Yes sir— born and raised.”

He hums and she watches from the corner of her eye as he leans to the window, peering out of it for a moment. There’s no one out there— at least she strongly doubts there is. This place is in the middle of nowhere. She hasn’t even heard a car since the truck that dropped Bucky off drove away. It’s supposed to be peaceful. She doesn’t see it. All she sees is the dreadful but necessary silence— at least hopefully that way they’ll hear someone coming.

“How about you? Where are you from—” she flips the bacon, pushing it around the pan, her mouth watering at the thought of the greasy, gooey goodness she’s about to consume— “You mind finding some plates?”

She hears him rummage through the cupboard above his head— well, above her head, in front of his— before two mismatched pieces of dishware appear before her nose. Grabbing them, she lets the corners of her lips tick up just the tiniest bit further.

“Indiana— but spent most of my time in Brooklyn.”

“It shows.” She muses, not turning to see whether or not he appreciates the comment.

It’s true regardless— she can hear some of the mannerisms of New York in his voice. Not many. He hasn’t said enough for her to truly gauge just how strong his accent is. Still it’s there, in the gruffness of his tone, just like she’s sure the SoCal shines through in her. At least it normally does— lately she hasn’t exactly been the picture of sunshine.

She removes the sandwiches from the pan, layering them carefully onto the plates. After staring at them for a moment she settles on the one that she wants, handing Bucky the bigger of the two. It’s only fair— he could probably eat at least four. She watches as the giant gives it a glance, rolling her eyes when he hesitantly lifts it to his lips, taking the smallest of bites. Is he afraid of a sandwich?

“I promise I’m not trying to poison you— I need you to stay alive, remember?”

He only grunts.

She has to turn away when he takes a bigger bite, her eyes refusing to detach themselves from his lips. Unprofessional and inappropriate. The orphan and the bodyguard. She takes a bite of her own sandwich, shoving the thought to the back of her mind and replacing it with the heavenly taste of gooey cheese, melted butter, and greasy bacon. She doesn’t have to dissect the thoughts of her delicious food like she would have to the other ones. Cheese doesn’t require a checklist about whether or not her grief quota is up to code. Clearly it’s not— clearly she’s just sick in the head. She takes another bite.

The two eat in silence for a couple minutes, the tension in the room melting for the first time since she introduced herself. Thank gods for cheese.

After a few more moments Bucky sets his plate down, turning back to the window. At first she thinks she is hearing things— like her mind is now also playing tricks on her as well as making her feel like a terrible person— but then it registers and she has to fight back another inappropriate smile.

“You were right about the bacon.”

Maybe three days won’t be so bad.

____________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky imagine #mcu fic #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe fic #marvel cinematic universe #Persephone's Symphony

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notfeelingthyaster · 4 years ago

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Imagine (Son of Hades! Percy; Godswapped! Big Three's kids (6/7) or (11/12)

House of Hades Pt.2 - In the Argo II

Hello darlings! Before reading this, there's at least other 11 parts - and I almost had to divide this into two - check on the masterpost - but don't be sad is ending :(

First - I have no idea if I'll divide Blood of Olympus in two because I hate the climax Rick wrote - so probably? Also not sure if I'll need an epilogue - we're not delving into TOA, though.

Second - I'll keep writing! I have a handful of ideas that I want to do next - and the next AU will have Female! Percy - so keep logging in!

Check on the warnings before proceeding, and good reading :))

To say that things are tense in the Argo II is downplaying the major depression the ship seemed to be sunk in since Perseus fell.

Leo and, surprisingly, Nico are the only ones who are able to get anything done in the first couple of days, but they aren't fooling anyone - the white eyes of the son of Zeus seem to be every day a little more bloodshot, and more than one fire happens without no explanation.

Annabeth didn't stop crying for a second - even throughout Will's examination of her and her brother - for at least 12 hours. Then she crashed for another 12 hours - and when Annabeth woke up, she was enraged.

She is going to bring the damned statue back to Camp - and then she will kick her mother's ass. That's her best friend, not collateral damage.

And when her dumbass of a best friend comes back, Annabeth is going to kick his ass too. How dare he fall - for her, not even his closest friend - into freaking Tartarus?

Frank is devastated - he and Piper are coping by planning the future - how they can spend the summer at Camp and live in Nova Roma, how they'll visit Perseus if he decides to go to college in the mortal world. It feels a little like denial.

Hazel and Jason are coping in the totally opposite way. Where Leo and Nico are fueling themselves with determination, Annabeth is anger personified and the other two went in the road of negation - they're both in a deep state of panic.

The sea became too dangerous to travel - the tides answering to Jason's turbulent emotions - and any metal on board keeps exploding or becoming so fueled with energy that no one but Nico and Hazel can touch it.

They pray together - for Neptune, Jupiter, Pluto, Letum, any god that Perseus ever helped (a lot of them) - for his protection. Jason holds evening prayers - just like in Nova Roma - and they offer anything, everything, for Percy to be alive. Everyone goes.

Except for Will, who is in a whole other league. The moment that he arrived at Camp, Percy was the one to settle him, and calm him, and take care of him. It was a side of him no other person in this ship had ever seen - Nico got in Camp in the worst timing possible, and all the others were pretty independent when they met Perseus.

But Will remembers - the nights with hot chocolate, Percy's warm sweaters, a pair of blue gloves messing his hair, the anxiety when the boy left for school, just for him to keep IMing Will every evening - and he misses Percy.

After the Labyrinth, the war, the losses, they reconnected - the prejudices against Percy's parentage long gone - and it felt like nothing ever changed.

It was Percy who helped him coming out for his mother. It was Percy that held Will after he lost Sibele - a daughter of Momus - to her injuries. It was Percy, always Percy.

Percy is much more of a father then Apollo - and much better as a brother then some of Will's siblings. So Will just locks himself up in his infirmary - and grieves. It's weird in such a hard mission to remember that Will is just fifteen and that he is a veteran of war.

The mood lingers, even when they start fighting regularly against the Apennines - and isn't this a whole other mess.

The mountain spirits are pissed - because Hades/Pluto and his wife are really pissed. It's Malcolm - the only one with a phone and a good connection to the internet - that tells them that the world started having earthquakes every few days.

The mortals are confused because most of these are not even close to the tectonic plates - and none of those cause turmoil at the sea. It's just Hades - mightly pissed his only son is beyond even his reach.

Three days in fighting the Ourae - who don't like having their mountains shaken over and over again - the sky also starts thundering. Coincidentally, it's July 30th - they've been traveling for twenty-two days - which also marks Thesmophoria - the greek festival of harvest.

But, alas, nothing is blooming. Persephone is as dangerous as her husband - and Demeter seems to follow her daughter's lead. With the Earth corrupted - the crops aren't growing.

Jason doesn't blame his matron - he is not really happy himself. Besides praying for Perseus' safety, he spends most of his days in patrol against boulders and rocks of all things.

Leo barely sleeps - too busy keeping the ship from falling apart - and Nico is, most of the time, right behind him keeping the ship steady. They try using canons and fail miserably. There's no way to fight against mountains - it's like Dom Quixote fighting against the windmills.

The others, even Will, rotate between fighting rocks and sleeping. Four days after Thesmophoria, Leo decides it's enough, turns the ship around, and solves to not cross the Apennines.

He just hopes Perseus can last another seven days.

Hazel - the only one awake, because this is supposed to be her patrol and Leo finds her the most reasonable out of all their friends, who would probably insist on keep fighting the freaking mountains - is praying. Like always.

Leo doesn't know how he feels about praying. His extended family was very catholic - they prayed for a god that they couldn't see or touch. But Leo met the gods - or, if Annabeth is to be believed, one set of them - and he doesn't like them.

They're petty children who have no care for the fate of their children - the ones who fight for them, go on their errands, keep them alive, y'know. Leo doesn't want to praise them. He doesn't think they deserve it.

But Hazel's prayers are answered when her venti, Tempest, appears aboard. Hazel tells Leo to go on without her - she'll be back soon.

He is concerned for her - like always. Of all new people, Leo seems to be the closest to her - his overall cheeriness and electric behavior are endearing to her, a light in these dark times. Sometimes, his smile makes her flush - just like Frank's did and still does.

Hazel mounts Tempest and the venti takes her, through mountains and hills, to a door. There's mist curling at her ankles and a chill in her spine.

She isn't very thrilled by meeting Trivia - Hazel heard stories of her greek son by Perseus, who seemed to hold the guy in high standard, but she knows gods. The goddess of magic wants something.

Trivia is an imposing woman - taller than Hazel, she has the same midnight skin as Perseus, though hers looks purple-ish, and her eyes are entire universes - stars bloom in her irises and twin moons rise in her pupils.

The goddess is fickle - she seems to be there and not, at the same time. Ghostly. There's three of them, then one, then five.

Trivia beacons to the daughter of Jupiter and she follows, the cursed little girl she is. The goddess offers her three options: Perseus, prone in the ground as she, Leo, and Annabeth battle an invisible foe, the two demigod installments at war, or the Argo II.

Hazel chooses the Argo II, but she promises herself, and the goddess, that she will save Perseus, and that no demigod blood will be spilled by other demigod's hand. Not again.

She will learn how to control the Mist. But Trivia is very mistaken if she thinks Hazel is going to become her acolyte. She remembers well what happened last time - she died.

The Argo II is traveling without much hassle - when they're crossing Monte Falterona, in the Campigna National Park, they are attacked by a new mountain spirit - and this one talks.

"Get Pluto his brat back, you useless halflings!"

Like the boulders the immortal is throwing at them will help. Leo screams this back at the mountain, who is not impressed at all.

Their next foe is in San Marino - a chimera. Most popular knowledge is wrong about those monsters: chimeras are not just goat-lion-snake mixes. They are an amalgamation of any three or more animals.

This one, in particular, is a very... candid mix of a Pyrenean chamois, a monk-seal, a mouflon, and a goose. Not very lethal or hazardous - just very angry. It's the first time they hear Annabeth laugh since Perseus fell.

While Malcolm is chasing and being chased around by an evil goat-goose-seal-weirdass deer chimera that he is fending off with an encyclopedia, the others can't even bring themselves to help. It's ridiculous - the thing is not even big. It's just ugly and it sounds like a honking clown.

Eventually, they get around to killing the clown chimera - it honks as it vanishes - and following route to Bologna. Frank tries to mutate to the chimera during the travel - to different levels of failure - which makes everyone laugh.

Thanks to their two encounters, the crew gets to Bologna at two in the afternoon.

Frank can't help counting the days as they pass him by. He is not the only one - he can see Annabeth muttering the time every now and then - but it feels like a countdown. Can Perseus survive one more week in Tartarus?

Even with the pressing worry for his lost friend, he can't stop thinking about Hazel and Leo. The two of them are thick as thieves - and Frank wants in.

But he knows it's wrong - Leo is a boy. Hazel is younger. Leo bares a power that could kill him. Hazel is his best friend. They're two people. - but he sees them flirting and can't keep his eyes to himself.

It's wrong. Soldiers aren't supposed to date men. Men who dated men are prostitutes, entertainers. Less. And two people at the same time? Outside of a bedroom? Preposterous.

Frank wishes he was more like Perseus. Perseus is all about duty: he would eventually marry Reyna. Or Annabeth, or other pretty and intelligent warrior, and have two point five kids with a picket fence.

But no. Here he is - midday, they are stopping for lunch, and he can't keep his eyes off Leo and Hazel - who are quietly chatting in the other end of the long table.

Frank ponders what would they think. Would the two be repulsed? Would they laugh at him? He can deal with laughter. Their disgust, however, would cut his heart in half.

Nico is in a very similar, and yet completely different, situation. He has been in love - or as close as love could be when you never dated the person - with Perseus Jackson.

He knows it's okay to be gay - he is friends with Will and Jake. He lives on CHB since he was a pre-teen. Perseus himself was - is - queer.

But the thing is, he'll never have a chance with him. Not the chance he is longing for gods know how long. He failed Perseus yet again - he let the demigod fall.

Perseus can have anyone. Perfect Annabeth Chase, Shrewd Reyna Arellano, Magic Alabaster Torrington, anyone. And he wouldn't have a problem with that - no. The problem is that he can't make a choice. Because he is in Tartarus.

Because Nico. Let. Him. Fall.

He isn't even sure if he let Perseus fall on purpose. A part of his mind knew someone would have to go. It was always meant to be Perseus. Did he purposefully let him go?

The rational part of his mind knew that if he tried to fly them off, all he would accomplish is falling into Tartarus with Perseus, probably dragging Annabeth with them.

But the guilt creeps into his heart - again, yet again, Perseus suffers for something he did or failed to do. He can't sleep. He doesn't know how anyone can eat.

A rock for him in these difficult times has been Jason. The son of Neptune seems to be as affected as Hazel or Annabeth - but Nico would never be able to rely on them.

Hazel has her own problems - a lot of them since Trivia appeared - and Annabeth is a painful reminder of everything Nico is unable to have.

Jason, however, is different. They had dreams of each other - something about their conquests, Nico didn't pay attention - and that apparently brought them close. Jason, differently from Annabeth, isn't a competition. He isn't vying for Percy's attention and love.

He is just a close friend - like Nico pretends to be most of the time - incredibly worried about the son of Hades. Nico would tell Jason about how he feels - but the militar roman's sensibilities might not be adjusted to the greeks' freedom yet.

Nico, however, is also not the only one with heart problems. Piper finds himself entranced by Annabeth Chase - even when she knows, she knows because of her powers, that Annabeth is painfully straight.

And Piper knows it's not love - it's the heat of the upcoming war and the hormones of being cooped up with just other teenagers for twenty days. She sees the blossoms of young lovers everywhere.

The yearning between Leo, Hazel, and Frank; Nico and Jason unconsciously sharing long-term crushes on Perseus; Will missing Jake and his parental figure;

She wishes she was more like Malcolm. Malcolm is asexual - besides being the only other transexual person on board.

Before this war spiked from nothing, the boy was just back from his mission for Hermaphroditus - a two-month search for a missing choker. He is still adapting to his body - it's bigger and broader and he doesn't have to wear a binder. Piper thinks it's amazing - he tells her it isn't that easy.

It's not a slow transition. One second your body is something - and then it isn't. One morning, the demigod caught him holding a red binder in his hands. Sometimes, she sees a shot of testosterone tucked in his pocket.

One day, he was a boy stuck in a girl's body. Then, he wasn't anymore. He has the body he dreamed of for forever - and it's difficult accepting it. Malcolm tells her is not exactly body dysphoria - is just difficult to conciliate.

Piper thinks after this, she'll get her body. After all of this, she deserves it - her body, all hers, with boobs and a killer jawline. Maybe then, it'll be easier to like girls as well. Maybe then, she'll shave half of her head and get a piercing. And maybe, a couple of tattoos.

But while this doesn't happen, she is whining to her asexual friend about her crush in his sister. Malcolm crushes her with logic - "Annabeth has only shown interest in men. She might be bi or pan or even a lesbian, but the odds aren't on your favor" - and she tries to put the blonde out of her mind.

Lunch, however, is a little ridiculous for her. As a daughter of love herself, that table is such a mess of yearning and pining and infatuations.

Malcolm seems to be the only rational - but even he is a little flushed. Piper totally saw that picture of Mitchell in his drawer last week.

She couldn't blame him really - her brother is hot. All demigods are - in very different ways of course, but their godly blood made them more or less otherworldly compared to mortals. Didn't matter their ethnicity, their gender, if they're disabled or not - they are all hot.

Piper, however, doesn't spend all her time freaking over hot people. She is a teenager with a friend who has a good connection to the internet, so she does that a lot - but most of her time these days is looking at Katoptris.

She's waiting for a vision of Perseus. Anything - just proof that he is alive, that he hasn't curled in a ball on whatever is the ground down there and went mad.

It doesn't come. She is looking at this ridiculous lunch table, eating vegetarian burgers, and waiting. Just as it seems like her dagger starts glowing gold - two monkey twins sweep down and steal it. And Leo's tool belt and Archimedes' Sphere.

Piper is really pissed. She wants this mission to end - she wants to find Perseus and stop Gaea, and that's her magical item. It's important. So she and Leo go after the twin monkeys.

Using one of the armory's javelin - for lack of a better option - they sprint over roofs and marketplaces. Bologna is a beautiful city - but they have no time.

They corner the twin monkeys, get their things back - and some things pertaining to a god of harvest - Triptolemus. Perhaps if they make an offer to him, Demeter and Persephone will be more cooperative. Maybe Persephone will be able to calm her husband.

Piper really doubts it. If she learned anything in the nineteen days she traveled with Perseus, is that he calls Persephone "Kore" or "Mater". The only other person he refers to with such open childish joy is his own mother, Sally.

The guy IMed both of them twice a week - enough that Piper knows their voices. While Hades isn't high in the demigod's list of people, his wife seemed to be at least number #2.

But they go back to the ship and relay their plan anyway. They set route to Venice. In the hour that it takes them to get there, they're delayed twice: once by the personification of River Ádige - which enabled them to pass until Jason helped with a small problem - and then by a couple of ventis - which Hazel sent off.

Frank, Annabeth, Hazel and Nico venture into the drowned city - Piper declines to go, saying that she is waiting for Katoptris to cooperate - being Nico the only one who actually speaks Italian in the ship.

The city is infested with anteater-like herbivorous monsters called katoplebones, which are pointedly not from the Greek pantheon. It's pretty rare for monsters to cross pantheons - and the Egyptians are pretty good in keeping them under lock and key - but sometimes, this happens.

They aren't capacitated to deal with those. Annabeth has half a mind to call the Kanes and demand an explanation. Pretty sure they were possessed by the gods to avoid this kind of situation.

She doesn't have much time to think - Hazel is quickly overwhelmed by the poisonous breath of the cows. Of course - is there anything in Egypt that isn't connected to snakes?

They find Triptolemus - who is not thrilled with their presence. Demeter - his mistress - and her daughter are distraught by Perseus' missing status - and he blames Annabeth and Nico for it.

Annabeth tries to persuade him - after all, they have Jason on board, and he is blessed by Ceres. Triptolemus - a very greek god - is not swayed.

"Your trickster words shall not fool me, daughter of Athena."

That's how Annabeth became a rosemary bush - good for memory and brainpower. Nico, when he tried to fight back, became a corn crop.

Mars is whispering in Frank's mind - he is not really fond of his father but uses his help to kill the evil Egyptian cows and get a python for the god's chariot.

He can't let Hazel die. He can't see the light go off her eyes - to see the same pain reflected in Leo's eyes. But Frank is so using Nico's stunt as a corn plant as blackmail material later. Not with Annabeth thought - she would stab him.

Triptolemus, pleased, turns Nico and Annabeth back to human and heals Hazel. Then, he tells them they have to eat barley cakes - so they can survive the poison needed to enter the house of the dead.

Proceeding south down the Adriatic toward Greece, a journey that should take about half a day, the crew of the Argo II is first accosted in Koper - a city on the coast of Slovenia - by four monocerus in the middle of the night.

Monocerus, in Leo's very succinct explanation, are "evil unicorns with big feet that can't fly and shouldn't be in a flying ship".

Whoever, the monsters apparently don't care where they should or not be - and Annabeth - still reeling for her time as rosemary - takes two of them out, keeping the horns as a prize. Nico takes one, who is so beat that leaves nothing, and Malcolm kills one with a handgun.

It's not the most practical weapon, because celestial bronze is not that easy to fabricate/find/obtain - so to use it in bullets that will explode and render it unusable it's kind of a desperate - but it's the first thing he could get - Malcolm's double tessen was being repaired by Leo.

Because yes - not only was the twenty years old able to fight with normal blades, he also fights with freaking fans made of iron.

After the run-in with the evil unicorns - Annabeth looks really cool covered in gold blood and curved silver horns in her hands - they proceed across Croatia.

It goes well for about thirty minutes - in Zadar, they cross paths with Sciron. Sciron is a bandit and outlaw, who - for some reason, is assisted by a giant predatory sea turtle.

While Hazel tricks him into throwing himself off the cliff using her new-discovered Mist, Jason talks to the turtle. It says its name is Chelone - that it's the turtle who took Aphrodite Ourania from the depths of the sea to the shores of Cythera - when she was still young, with remains of other goddesses in her anima - Innana and Ishtar.

He convinces the turtle to stop killing people - mainly by saying that he should hunt elsewhere, deeper onto the sea. It may become a problem for his father, but Jason has bigger issues right now.

They go to sleep, and Hazel dreams. She expects any god to come - but who comes to her is none other than Pluto and his wife, Proserpina.

Proserpina is shrouded in black, and her eyes are not green - but yellowish, like dead leaves. She talks - and tells Hazel that the Doors of Death are in the bottom of the Necromanteion - her powers over metal energy would guide her - and will be guarded by Pasiphae, vengeful of Pluto - and, by default, Perseus - for the lack of punishment for Minos.

Her husband is a silent presence by her side. He is not in mourning... probably. It's difficult to tell, as he is always in black. But his eyes hold a weight easy for Hazel to understand - he just lost a son to the abyss. No matter that Perseus might be alive - he wouldn't get back whole and safe.

Proserpina ends her dream by telling her to wake up Piper - the goddess is putting all her strength to send a vision of Perseus to Katoptris - they need one much more than her, seeing that they are able to interfere.

What Piper sees don't tell them a lot - Perseus seems mostly okay, with some sort of companion that Nico says it might be Iapetus, a brand new scar over his face and a bad limp.

It's the last they'll see of him until their eventual meeting face to face, but it gives them hope.

Annabeth herself has a dream - a dream that the Romans give the statue to the greeks. She sends an iris message to Rachel - so she can meet personally with Reyna.

Reyna, on the other side of the world, mounts her pegasus, Scipio, and leaves. Not only her co-praetor is in freaking Tartarus, but they are on the verge of two simultaneous wars. They need peace.

As soon as she is out of the roman range, however, she sends an iris message to Jason - telling him to go to their hero's place of rest - she had a vision from Mars. That she will meet them in Greece. Jason tells Leo to set course for Split, in Croatia. There's a roman scepter there.

Of all of them, the most capacitated for this mission are Frank and Jason, who are both educated Romans, and Nico, who can fly - a very good power to have in unstable ruins.

They're confronted by Favonious, who takes them to his master, Cupid, in Dalmatia. Nothing good can come of talking to the personification of love - such an old concept that the god has been reborn twice.

"Well, well, well"

"What do we have here?"

Jason falls onto the ground - "You think you found true love, haven't you? But alas, I was where you last expected me" - and he hates love, for that single moment.

"I shall give you what you want, Romans, if each of you is able to tell me - who do you love the most?"

Nico trembles - guilt is a difficult pill to swallow - and Frank visibly wants to bolt out of there.

"Oh, are you afraid? But there's no hiding in the face of true love"

Jason - always the brave one - gives a look at Frank. His friend never met the greeks. He might hate Jason after this.

But they need this scepter.

"Perseus Jackson"

Two heads whips in his direction - one unbelievingly, and the other distressed.

"Ah, love crafted in dreams - the perfect mix between me and my wife. Tell me, Jason Grace, was it bad when he looked upon you and saw naught but a myth?"

A laugh creeps upon Jason's spine, and he turns around. His blade hits something hard, and he is on the floor again.

"Such luck, to be able to even graze love. Perhaps yours is the purest of all - not yet tainted by failures and mistakes. On that note, why don't you go next, Nico di Angelo?"

Nico shivers - he... they have no time for that. That is unnecessary drama - to cause unnecessary problems.

A memory rushes to the front of Jason's mind - that quick chat with Reyna in Nova Roma. "The blond girl, Di Angelo"

Nico loves Perseus. It rushes to Jason now - the way that the younger boy stared adoringly at the son of Hades. The drunkness of his lovesick gaze. The despair when Perseus fell.

"Tell them Nico di Angelo" Cupid prompts "Tell them all about your guilt, your mistakes, the way you let him down, again and again, and again."

Nico floats a little off the ground. It's years of pain and sorrow that won't bring Perseus back.

"Will you fly off yet again, in the face of rivalry? Will you be my next servant - just like Favonious, consumed by jealousy, Nico di Angelo?"

Jason sees the memories. Nico screaming at Perseus. Grover reluctantly telling him about their adventures. The way he betrayed Percy - and a dozen more scenes he never saw from Nico's perspective, only Percy's, that made him unable to speak.

"It's okay Nico... I.... I get it."

It's painful to utter these words - it's almost like he is giving up Perseus. But they have a war to get through - and then, when the other demigod is back, they can figure this out.

"P-Perseus Jackson"

And then it's Frank's turn. But Frank is as pale as a ghost - he seems to be close to vomiting.

"It's a costly thing isn't it, looking at the true face of love. Now it's the turn of the brave son of Mars. Will you tell your friends easily, or shall you be a coward like the son of Zeus?"

Frank doesn't talk. Jason doesn't understand why - it's Hazel, isn't it? Is it because of Nico? He mentions talking to the son of Zeus, but Di Angelo doesn't look at him - the Cupid knew very well how to play his game.

"Come on. Tell them - tell them of whom you think before you sleep and who dominates your first thoughts every morning."

"You don't scare me"

"Oh, I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest."

"H-Hazel. Levesque."

"That's just half my question, little half-blood. If you want to lead the roman legions, you must answer it fully."

"I love H-Hazel. She is the one I think before I sleep and when I wake up."

"Still hiding. You're not strong enough, Frank Zhang."

Frank tries to charge at the wind, but it just mocks him. It's weird seeing Frank crying - it looks like the world is crumbling at his feet.

Jason, yet again, doesn't understand. Nico is also confused - he looks between the Romans as if he never saw any of them before. But then it dawns on the son of Zeus.

"Not only my sister. That's why you keep gazing at them, isn't it?"

All the fighting and denial leave Frank at once. His sword clangs in the ground.

"I love both Hazel and Leo. Together." He spits out, still trembling. "That's the truth. Are you happy now?"

"I wouldn't say Love always makes you happy. It can make you incredibly sad, sometimes. But you have faced it now. It's the only true way to conquer me."

Cupid appears - in a flash of white wings. It might be the god Jason hates the most - his eyes seem to penetrate his very soul. There's a scepter in his hand.

"Only a true child of Mars Ultor can yield it. It's your destiny, Frank Zhang."

Then he promptly disappears. The demigods look at each other - there's a flurry of emotions deep inside their chests. Frank looked at both of them, waiting for an attack, or for them to start fighting.

"No one has to know" He starts "I'm s-so-..."

He doesn't end. There are copious tears rolling through his face - his cheeks are a deep shade of red. A sob escapes his throat.

"P-please, p-pleased-don't t-te-tell anyone." Frank sobs, and it's such a jarring sight that both Nico and Jason rally to reassure him, leaving their own issues aside.

"There's nothing wrong with loving two people at once. No one will have a problem with it, Frank - fuck, this isn't Nova Roma. Most of us are greek."

"Hazel would hate me though. This is unnatural- I- I can't."

"You don't know that. Hazel loves you, Frank"

But the son of Mars just keeps crying until they both promise not to tell another soul what they saw. It's enough for the weird atmosphere to return.

Midway in the trek back to the ship - a six-hour walk - Nico is too riled up to safely fly with two people and none of them being too fond of air right now - Frank summons enough power to ask the question.

"So... uh... hm... Perseus?... like, uh, I can see the appeal-... but... both?... forget I asked, just....uh oh, sorry."

Jason and Nico pointedly avoid looking at each other. It's very bizarre - Jason knows a lot about Perseus, but now he knows Perseus also from Nico's perspective - and this is all messy.

They go back to the ship, relay to Annabeth that they got the scepter, and immediately go back to their cabins - to cry, to scream, to think.

It's been a day and a half - and they're still eleven hours off Epirus. Leo is pissed - because not only their three heavy-hitters are pissed at something and won't communicate, and they're of course.

Emerging from the infirmary for something other than to eat and mend people is finally Will - at least. He takes patrol in place of Nico - the boy quietly mumbled at his friend that they had a run-in with Cupid. Will can imagine how that went.

He doesn't have a clue about Frank - but Jason and Nico? They have the same long-lasting crush on Perseus - everyone on board knows that. Except, apparently, for each other. And Perseus - because his mentor/kind of brother/bother figure is a dumbass.

When they're passing through the coast of Albany, they're attacked by Khione - who is still very pissed her ex-lover's son doesn't want to spend eternity frozen with her. Leo ends up being sent away - for the distress of both Hazel and Frank and the anger of his best friends, Piper and Jason.

Piper ends up stabbing Khione - while Frank transforms into the giant dragon and burns her - making her unable to freeze them. Eventually, she runs away.

Leo, however, wakes up on an island. There's a sad girl at his side - she is using a modern blue dress, and there's a crown of black flowers upon her head.

"You were not the one I was expecting."

The son of Hephaestus wants to scream. Well, he didn't want to be whatever here is either! But her face is so sad - her gaze down to her bare feet. She seemed to be crying. He settles for asking who is her.

"I... I am sorry. My name is Calypso. This is Ogygia."

It startles him. Mainly because he has heard this name before around camp - wasn't she supposed to be freed?

"What happened to you?"

The immortal girl relays her tale - how she got freed for a year, and then the war started. The gods - Zeus - didn't trust her not to turn against them. So they locked her up - she was not the only one. Leto, Themis, Rhea - good titans or their offspring. Locked away.

She, after a year of freedom that Perseus got her, was back into her old shackles. Calypso is waiting for him for months now - but she thinks he forgot her.

So Leo tells her what happened - the bits he knows anyway. Juno/Hera, Nova Roma, the mission. Calypso seems calmer. They stay together for a while - friends it seems.

Calypso tells him about her year - about how she wanted to explore the world. She tells him she wanted to join Artemis' hunt - but, courtesy of Odysseys, she is no maiden.

He tells her about Hazel and Frank, Perseus, and the love hexagons he doesn't even know he is in - omitting the part that he is now in Tartarus. They talk about Festus - Calypso tells him about how his father is good to hear - how he came to visit, sometimes.

A week passes, maybe a week and a half. Leo vows to take Calypso off the island once the war ends, and she believes - once, a hero as brave as Leo made her the same promise, and stuck with it through the end.

In Cancun, Africa, Jason and Nico are having daily audiences with Auster, the Roman god of the south wind, in connection with the Seven being able to proceed on their way to Epirus - seeing that their ship is all broken and they have no Leo.

Auster is indolent and seems increasingly disinclined to cooperate with Jason and Nico: he dislikes the son of Zeus, and the wind never had a good relationship with the sea. Annabeth also tries her hand at it - but it's rebuffed at every turn. Piper is prohibited from entering the palace because of her magic voice.

Jason and Nico - even though they aren't speaking to each other - have for a long time admitted they don't fit completely at either camp. Jason is still too militar for CHB. Nico is too old for CHB. Both are too free with their personal lives for Nova Roma.

Auster agrees to meet with them and tells them to commit to one side - greek or roman. They deny it - they're both. The gods are both, they have been thrust in a war of both sides, they commune with gods on both aspects and they ask them to run errands for both pantheons. They have the right to be both.

Auster is not happy with this - mainly because he believes they should keep the sides separated. But it's the first time Nico and Jason agree on something - and they fight together for it. No god has the right to define those petty things when the demigods are fighting their war.

Auster merges with his greek counterpart Notus - an amalgamation of both his carefree and his militar side - and sends The Seven on their way when coerced by the threat of a hurricane and a typhoon.

He sends them to Valletta, Malta, where they find the Argo II fully repaired and in the harbor. In the port, on a small cafe, there's Leo - sitting and raging internally against the gods, who once again, fucked up something.

They trade stories, and Leo just rages more. He isn't sure how Perseus didn't ally himself with Kronos in the first war if that was the bullshit he had to deal with every day.

First Khione, then Zeus locking Calypso up, then this Notus guy - they are a week and a half late. Is Perseus still alive after nineteen days in the Pit? Is he sane? Did he tried to get out - and they weren't there?

It's with a shocking gasp from Annabeth that they realize that Perseus's birthday is in three days. They have been traveling together for thirty-seven days now - and they have to get Perseus out of Tartarus before the 18th, at least. Is the minimum.

It takes them a day to get to Epirus. There are enough monsters in their way to start a menagerie - Gaea is actively trying to stall them, so there must be a reason. Perseus might be alive.

Arriving at the Necromanteion, which they learn is just a very fancy name for catacombs, Hazel, Frank, Leo, Annabeth, Will, and Piper descend into the ruins, leaving Nico and Jason - who are both completely useless under the earth - behind with Malcolm - who, since Arachne, is pretty much claustrophobic.

They eat the barley cakes to protect themselves against the toxic potion they must drink in order to enter the temple. It's difficult to swallow poison - it burns as it goes down.

The mist tries to confuse them at every turn - Hazel diverts it. Her power over metal energy guides them - she can feel the basis of the building, way down where they are.

Katoptris burns in Piper's hand. It shows her Perseus' face - he looks cadaveric, shrouded in death. Sometimes he flickers, like a ghost - but he is alive, and heading to the Doors just like they are.

It's enough to spur them forward. Perseus is doing the same journey - from a much difficult side. They will meet in the middle.

Earthquakes strike the caverns, making part of the floor collapse. In a side, Piper and Will, surrounded by monsters in all sides. In the other, Frank, Leo, Hazel and Annabeth. The son of Mars doesn't think twice - the scepter.

He uses the Scepter of Diocletian to summon ghostly Roman soldiers, and as a Legatus Legionis, he does have the power to command all of them. It would be more controlled if he was Praetor, but the actual Praetor is Perseus, and so, in his absence, Frank will have to do.

The tunnel collapses. Hazel. Leo. They might be dead - but Frank can't panic right now. They are alive. They will protect each other, they have Annabeth Chase with them. Hazel controls the mist - everything will be just fine.

Anger grew in his chest. Those are his friends, his... his loved ones. This freaking ruin don't get to kill them before Frank summons enough courage to submit himself to the ridiculousness of telling them.

Hazel wants to cry - they left Frank behind. He might be dead - they might be all dead. Leo isn't much better. For all that Zhang seems to hate him, his infatuation with the Canadian never disappeared.

Annabeth however, is practical. She tells them Frank will be fine - the guy can transform into a dragon. Or a chimera. Probably a poisonous one, after the stunt in Venice. He has an army - it's okay.

Pasiphae is a bitch. Leo hates the woman - she reminds him of Aunt Rosa. Or Juno. Or Lady Muddy herself. He and Annabeth let Hazel do the majority of the talking - but both of them bristle as the Doors shake.

An unauthorized presence. Perseus actually did it - they have twelve minutes, in accord to Annabeth - who Leo knows better than to doubt - to open the Doors. Or he is dead, lost forever.

"It's a pity Gaea needs a son of the Earth and a daughter of the Sea... But none of you are children of the Underworld or the ocean, are you? Not even the acolyte of Trivia."

Everything indicates that she'll open the door herself - but Annabeth can't risk she whisking Perseus away to Gaea before they can reach him. So she sneaks past with her cap while they fight.

Pasiphae goes down to Hazel's illusions. Annabeth opens the Doors, before cutting the chains as Hazel and Leo distract Clytius. Perseus stumbles out, a giant tiger in his heels.

Leo didn't think he would ever see a harsher picture. The tall boy was still muscular - but gaunt as if he hadn't eaten since the fall. There were scars everywhere.

He couldn't look more - Clytius is threatening Perseus, but both Annabeth and the tiger stay in his way. Trivia appears - but they aren't truly winning until Piper, Will, and Frank are able to reach them through Hazel's magic.

Will goes immediately to Perseus' side - there's panic in his eyes. Leo can't see much this far - he hopes the son of Hades isn't dead. Piper and Frank fight alongside them. Annabeth is still hovering protectively over her best friend's prone body.

There's not much need for help - between Hazel and Trivia, the bulk of Clytius powers are unusable. The shared power of Piper (love is never where you expect it), Frank (and his undead soldiers), a very angry Annabeth, and Leo is just overkill.

They win. Will is feeding Perseus ambrosia - there's something really wrong because there are tear tracks in the blonde's face. Leo comes closer - their friends follow.

Perseus is destroyed. He looks like he has been through hell - there's a scar crossing his face and his eyes are sunken in. But that's not where it stops.

Leo's gaze goes down, to the ragged clothes that are barely recognizable - the sweatpants he was convinced to wear to go underground, the once-green sweater - and sees what is missing.

Where Perseus' leg once was, there's a metal one. The boy is curled in the fetal position - his metal leg sticks out like a sore thumb, and it looks like he might cry if he wasn't so dehydrated. The tiger nudges its head against the boy's leg and growls at them, but it doesn't attack.

"I... I can't touch him. I touched him and he started panicking... I... We have to take him back to the ship. He is stable, but..."

Frank picks up Perseus in a bride-carry - a month ago, he wouldn't be able to do it. But now, he is stronger - and Perseus must weight ninety pounds wet.

The tiger follows - when they cross to the daylight, they can see it's not a normal tiger. Annabeth - with a distraught look in her face - tells them it's a skeleton tiger. Probably a saber-tooth.

They go back on board - Piper goes up to call Nico, so he can fly Perseus into the ship. He does, but the expression in his face is so crushing Leo almost wishes they had delayed it by destroying property and landing the ship on the street.

The mood of the ship is yet again somber. No one wants to leave the infirmary - but Will forces them to rotate, so as to not overwhelm Perseus. Hypocrite - he is living in there.

Leo, Malcolm, and Piper - the least close to Percy, even though they are friends - let the others take the bulk of the shifts. Annabeth, Nico, and Jason almost get into blows about it - she wins on the fact that she knows Perseus longer.

It's difficult to IM both Rachel - who is a minute away from depression since he fell - and Lady Persephone. It's even harder to tell Sally - they leave the task to Annabeth.

They harbor for two days, waiting for Reyna. She appears from the sky during dinnertime - her horse has to be euthanized almost immediately after a run with the spirit mountains.

They talk - and end up deciding that she will take the statue back to Camp with Malcolm, the most resourceful out of them. Percy would be the logical solution - taking him out of Gaea's reach - but the son of Hades would probably be unable to shadow travel so soon.

While this happens, the others will set course to Athens - to stop Gaea and destroy the Giants. For now, they eat.

Midway through their meal, Will comes into the board - everyone knows what it means. Perseus is awake - on his birthday to boot. They take their food to the infirmary - to see the boy looking at the ceiling.

He gives them a faint smile, but no one misses the way he curls into himself any time there's someone a little too close. Perseus relays his tale - it's heavily edited, Annabeth can tell.

But he tells them about the leg - but not how he lost it - about the tiger - the name is Small Bob, but he doesn't talk about Bob - and about the firewater - but not how he got the injuries.

Small Bob never leaves Perseus's side. The demigod insists that he wants to go outside - he ate enough ambrosia and drank enough nectar that even some of his scars are gone. Not the one in his face though. Will let him go - but Annabeth thinks that he just asked out of courtesy.

He doesn't have green eyes anymore - they darkened to a point they can't distinguish his pupil. They observe as he sits calmly in the deck, metal leg sticking out, and strokes the head of the tiger, who is acting more or less like a giant house cat.

None of them miss the tracks of tears across his face, or the look he gives the night sky - it's bittersweet.

"Bob says hello"

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imaginesnkdorks · 5 years ago

Text

Our Dream [Armin x Reader]

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: Armin has always been motivated by his dream to see the Ocean - to see the world beyond the walls. Clearly, meeting someone with the same goal; the same dream is one of the best feelings in the world. Armin is truly thankful to have that.

After the fall of Shiganshina – of the whole wall Maria at that – Eren decided to enlist. It’s something anyone would expect of Eren, anyway. Besides, it’s something he has always wanted. Armin, on the other hand, surprised both Eren and Mikasa when he declared he was going to enlist as well. After all, he’s tired of his friends fighting his fights for him. He wants to be able to finally do something. And maybe someday achieve his dream of seeing the ocean.

His plans are already set, and Armin is nothing but focused in fulfilling them, so why was he letting himself get sidetracked and distracted? He can’t help but pay his undivided attention to Y/N. He can’t even explain it, but Y/N just stood out to him. She’s soft-spoken but headstrong, smart but not overly serious, and is absolutely beautiful.

“You’re staring again.” Eren said for what is probably the fourth time that day. The contrast between Armin’s blonde hair and his red face is outstanding. “I’m not.” He murmured. He knows it’s in vain, yet he still felt compelled to lie. “I think you should talk to her.” Mikasa told him in between bites.

“I don’t even know what to say to her.” And that is where Armin’s dilemma lies. Among the three of them, he’s probably the most likable, but his meek nature doesn’t really push him into initiating conversations – let alone try to flirt with someone.

“Just tell her you like her. What was it you said the other day? She’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen?” Eren teased, a very naughty smile on his face. “Wha - ! Eren! I didn’t say anything like that.” Frankly, Armin isn’t really sure. He might have said something like that… it sounds like something he’d say, after all.

“Eren’s right. Just be honest. Y/N likes you too, you know.” Mikasa told him before she focused back on her soup. She seems so indifferent, but her words seemed to shift Armin’s world. “She likes me, too?” He feels like he could jump for joy at the news. Seriously run through the streets and yell in celebration. Still, doubt clouded his mind.

“How would you know that, Mikasa?”

“Because, Armin, Y/N is as obvious as you are.” Really, Mikasa seemed scandalized at that – as if Armin should have known this all along! And to think Mikasa of all people would notice something like that.

Armin felt ice course through his veins, not out of fear or disappointment but due to sudden and uncontainable excitement. His heart seems to be jumping around his chest. Now, what to do with that information? Should he listen to Eren and just walk up to Y/N and tell her how he feels?

That thought stayed with Armin for the next days, and he obviously seem distracted during training that even Ymir who couldn’t possibly give a damn about him noticed.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Sasha asked, pointing towards Armin’s untouched bread. Well, she asked but she didn’t wait for an answer. It was already half inside her mouth before Armin got to react at all.

“Hey!” Armin whined – fully aware that it’s too late to save his bread.

“That’s what you get for daydreaming about Y/N instead of eating.” Ymir commented, her ever smug grin present on her face. It was like a needle dropped in the whole mess hall, because of course Ymir is just that loud! And against his will, Armin looked at Y/N’s direction – finding her blushing and looking straight back at him. In a rare surge of boldness Armin spoke, “Ymir, don’t go exposing my secrets now.”

Cringe. Armin can almost feel everyone cringe at that. He regrets it the moment those words left his mouth. To make matters worse, Connie led everyone in laughing at him. Armin did the honorable thing to do – he ran outside.

Before he can fully marinade in his tears and drown himself in his embarrassment, Armin heard footsteps approach him. Assuming it’s either Mikasa or Eren, he reassured them right away. “I’m okay.” The voice that answered him took him by surprise.

“Good to know. Also, I saw Sasha take your food. I bet you’re still hungry so here.”

“Y/N?” You’d think a million different thoughts would rush around in his head at that moment, but there was actually nothing. His mind was completely blank, especially when he felt Y/N’s warmth as she took a seat beside him. Y/N is starting to double think her approaching Armin since he’s just looking at her.

“Uhmm…” Y/N tried to hand her bread to Armin once more, the action finally taking Armin out of the trance he seemed to be in. “Thank you.” Silence took over them once more. What was he supposed to do or say now? Armin wished he read something about this… talking to girls. He talks to Mikasa all the time, so why is he having such a hard time?

“Y/N, about what Ymir said…” Armin’s at a lost. Was he supposed to brush it aside and lie to her about his feelings? Is he supposed to confess now?

“I’m sorry Ymir put you on the spot like that. That wasn’t very nice of her.” Armin can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, but I’m used to it. Ymir and I don’t really get along.”

“I think Krista is the only one she likes!” Y/N commented with surprising cheerfulness. The two of them ended up talking about their fellow trainees that night, Armin totally stopping from overthinking and actually getting comfortable with Y/N.

----

“No! I can imagine Eren doing that, but Mikasa?” Y/N said, plucking another flower from the little cluster they’re sitting by. “Yes, well Mikasa can get pretty violent when it comes to protecting us – especially Eren.”

“I think I understand. You two are her precious friends after all. Here.” Y/N then handed a flower crown that she’s been making to Armin. “Wow, this is beautiful.” Armin said, proudly wearing Y/N’s gift. “It is. Looks like Persephone blessed us really well this spring.” “Persephone?” At Armin’s question Y/N tensed up. “Ah, nothing! We’d better go to the dining hall before Sasha inhale every bread in the room!” Y/N went on to do just that, leaving Armin behind.

Armin found it odd, but not really unusual. Y/N seems to be having a hard time totally opening up to him. It’s like there’s something she wants to tell him but would change her mind at the last minute. A clear example was their interaction earlier. Armin made it his goal to make Y/N comfortable around him.

---

Out of breath, Armin stood just outside the little cottage he and his team would be staying at during this exercise. Reiner helped him out again but he still feels as though he carried the world on his shoulders. “Armin! There you are. Here, I bet you’re thirsty.” Before, Armin would have been embarrassed at the thought of Y/N seeing him breathless and sweaty. Now he’s just happy to see her.

“Thank you!” He said, taking the offered canister. “You’re welcome. The instructor said we’re free for the rest of the night, by the way.” After finally catching his breath, Armin decided to take a chance. “Do you want to take a walk? With me?” Surprisingly, Armin wasn’t nervous. It’s not that he’s so confident Y/N would say yes. But there’s a lower chance of her turning him down, as proven by the eager nod that she gave him.

Honestly, the terrain was horrible, the view was ugly and the weather was humid but the two of them don’t seem to mind it one bit. They talked about the most mundane things – their breakfast that morning, Bertholdt’s weird sleeping positions, Sasha’s fascination with the mushrooms they saw earlier and Jean’s horse-like face – and yet it’s like it’s the most important thing in the world. Armin hang onto her ever word and she seemed to be doing the same to her.

“Eek!”

Armin’s reflexes worked so fast he didn’t have time to think. One moment Y/N was about to fall down due to tripping on an exposed tree root, the next she was in Armin’s arms. “Are you okay?” He asked, face the closest they’ve ever been to her. “Yes.” They stayed like that… close. Close enough to feel each other’s breath on their skin; to count each other’s eyelashes.

“I really like you, Y/N!” It just felt like the perfect moment to lay his feelings bare. Armin didn’t have time to doubt himself as Y/N’s reply came right away. “I like you, too.” Mikasa was right, after all.

---

To say they were a hundred percent comfortable with each other isn’t exactly factual. I mean, of course they are comfortable to some extent, but being intimate is just something they aren’t tackling very well. Armin would love to hold Y/N hand as they walk around the training academy, but he’d wonder if he’s being too forward or improper. The teasing from the rest of the guys isn’t helping either.

What’s more is that there is still that lingering hesitation from Y/N – it’s like she has a secret she so wanted to share with him but just can’t find the courage to do so. In fear of judgement, perhaps.

Most of the 104th class are doing their laundry, and Y/N and Armin are doing theirs together in silent companionship when Jean, Connie and Sasha decided to break the mundane atmosphere by hitting each other with their laundry – getting even those innocently doing their chores wet.

“Hey!”

“Blugh!” Armin exclaimed as he was hit straight on the face. It didn’t damper anyone’s spirits though, as they went on and more joined in. Armin and Y/N actually ended up teaming up on Connie. Soon enough, everyone at the riverbank are soaking wet and red from all the hitting that they were doing – the clothes they were washing definitely not getting any cleaner.

It took Keith Shadis himself to stop the trainees’ shenanigans and for them to calm down.

“That was fun.” Y/N said as she tried to fix her hair that’s been sticking to her face. “Oh! Your eyes are so red.”

Armin could definitely feel a slight stinging sensation. “I think the water irritated my eyes. Heh, I guess I’m lucky this isn’t the ocean, because then – ah!” The ocean. Armin is aware that knowledge of this is dangerous – deadly! It’s not that he doesn’t trust Y/N, but he needs to be careful.

Y/N then looked around, as if trying to make sure no one is close enough to hear them. “That would have been painful. It is salty water after all.” She said, followed by a deep sigh. “How did you… uhm, you know of the ocean?” She said in a whisper.

Now, this might be extremely stupid and generous but Armin can’t help but feel like this is the final hurdle they have to get over. “Books.” He answered simply. Y/N then grabbed Armin’s hand – leaving their laundry behind – and went to the dorms. Making sure the rooms she shares with the other trainees is empty, Y/N pulled Armin inside. “I have something to show you and I think you know that it’s between just us two.”

They soon find themselves standing at the bunk bed assigned to Y/N, facing the small nightstand with at least a dozen books. Honestly, nothing really stands out to Armin. Nothing looks like the books his family owned – those about the outside world. “These are history books? Those you can find anywhere.”

“Well yes, but no.” Y/N said before grabbing one in the middle entitled Fritz: The Royal Family. It’s probably the most famous book within the walls – only because it was required to be read by everyone. Y/N pulling that one out served only to confuse Armin. “They say the best place to hide a leaf in is in a forest, so…” Y/N then opened the book, showing Armin that the pages inside are nothing about the Fritz family. “I replaced the cover.”

“The ocean! I know this. It’s talking about how the world has more water than land – there’s also things about the tundra and deserts!” The two of them began talking about the things they haven’t seen but read about. Armin found out that Y/N is fascinated with mythology. He’s surprised to find out that there is a god for everything!

They mostly lingered on the book called World Atlas. It’s full of nothing but colorful maps and of places they couldn’t even pronounce. “Maybe, beyond the walls, these places are still out there. I’m mostly interested about seeing this rain forest.” Y/N said. It was at that moment when realization hit Armin that they truly are perfect for each other. “Of course, before getting there we’d have to cross the ocean. I wonder if it’s truly as beautiful as it is in these drawings. That’s my dream.”

Before he can stop himself, Armin leaned over and captured her lips in a sweet peck. “What?” Surprise was etched in Y/N’s face, but Armin won’t miss the cute flush of her cheeks. “That just felt… right. Don’t you think so?” Armin said, flashing a confident smile. “Let’s try that again.”

#snk armin #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #reader insert #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #Eren Jaeger #Eren Yaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #104th trainee corps #connie springer #Jean Kirschtein #jean kirstein #sasha braus #Ymir #attack on titan ymir #crista lenz #mod max

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mnthpprt · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 31: A Devil By Any Other Name

The theatre is already full when we arrive, but the best seats are reserved for le Comte and me. From our box, we can oversee the crowd below, eagerly awaiting the start of the play. As the lights dim, I pull out a cigarillo and quickly light it with my red plastic clipper, hidden from view. Soon, the audience in front of us becomes enveloped by darkness, their chatter dying down to a dead silence as the curtains begin to open.

They reveal a woman. She sits alone on a wooden chair on the left side of the stage, which has been made to look like the interior of a humble home. She glances to the other side, nervous, as the chants of an angry mob grow louder. They enter from the right, carrying pitchforks and torches, and begin to pound on the detached door that separates them from the other half of the stage.

Meanwhile, the woman pours salt on the floor, drawing a circle, and falls to her knees in front of it. It is not God that she prays to, no. Instead, she summons a tall man in a black cape and a mask made of a goat’s skull, who appears through a trapdoor on the floor amidst a puff of smoke, earning a few gasps from the audience. The Devil is here.

She has been accused of witchcraft, she tells him through tears of desperation, and the villagers want to burn her at the stake. And so, she sells her soul in exchange for shelter in order to escape such a horrible fate. The Devil, having agreed to hide her, extends his hand to the witch. The second she takes it, the theatre grows dark once again. This is the end of the first act.

During the brief pause, I turn to le Comte. He has been completely absorbed by the play, just as I was.

“Interesting story, isn’t it, my chérie?” he leans down to whisper. I agree with a nod.

“I heard he only writes about things he has seen,” I say in the same tone. I believe it, though clearly there is more metaphor than pure fact in the script. “Who do you think this one is about?”

“I have a pretty good idea...” I look at him, tilting my head. He does not take his golden eyes off the stage. I guess he anticipates my question, because he dismisses his own answer before it ever leaves his mouth. “But it’s still too soon to tell.”

I narrow my eyes. I wonder what he’s truly thinking, what he is refusing to tell me. Before I can probe any further, however, the curtains open again.

This time, the witch and the Devil are alone on the stage, with him holding onto her protectively. The set has changed to look like a dark cave, decorated with luxurious furniture in what looks like an attempt to make it look like an expensive home. No, not any home. Hell. The Devil’s realm. I must admit, whoever worked on the props did an amazing job setting the mood.

Le Comte remains completely silent for the rest of the play, even during the brief breaks between the five acts. I make no attempt to talk to him, to ask him more questions, for I know that he will not provide the answers I want. I see his jaw clench when he notices me observing him. He’s hiding something.

Meanwhile, the witch is welcomed into Hell as the Devil’s special guest. She is hesitant and scared, at first, but quickly becomes accustomed to her new living situation. The Devil treats her kindly, cares for her as part of the deal, and soon she falls in love with him. At some point there is a monologue during which the actress laments that she has given him his soul, and debates with herself whether she should give him her heart as well, ultimately concluding that, despite her feelings, it would be too dangerous.

Back on her little cottage, the villagers search for her, to no avail. Time passes, only for the witch who disappeared to have become a legend. She sees that, from Hell, and deems it safe to go back, so she decides to ask the Devil to let her go. He has completed his part of the deal, she tells him, and now it is time for her to return.

The Devil laughs. There is a slight problem, he says, menacingly stroking her cheek. Her soul is his forever, which means she can never leave. She uselessly fights to escape, but ends up bound by chains beside the Devil’s throne. When he leaves her alone, there is another monologue. The witch is determined to get back at him for taking not only her soul, but her life as well. In order to attain revenge, she will play along, seduce him. The play ends with her having become the queen of Hell, ruling beside the Devil like the Persephone to his Hades, but visibly unhappy. It is a tragic fate, to be trapped in the role of his unwilling lover for all eternity.

The curtains close, obscuring the image of the Devil smiling under his mask, a terrible laugh echoing across the theatre, as a single tear falls down the witch’s cheek. When they open again, the cast lines up to take a bow, revelling in the audience clamor. I clap, and glance to my side to see le Comte doing the same.

“That was really good,” I say in an attempt to prompt some words out of him. It doesn’t work.

“Hm,” he nods thoughtfully. Okay, I need to know what this is about. Asking him would be useless, so I wait until most of the audience has left to make my way towards the stage. I can hear the actors celebrate their success from the wings. Once there is no one but le Comte and me in the theatre, I climb onto the stage.

“Hey! Guillaume!”

The main actress peeks her head from behind the curtain. She looks a lot taller from here, practically towering over me. She takes a look at the seating to check if everyone has left before disappearing again behind the heavy fabric. The curtains open, this time clumsily pulled away by some of the actors.

“There’s a woman looking for you,” I hear the actress say to Shakespeare, ushering him forward. He smiles when he sees me.

“Anaïs, my dear!” He takes my hand ad tries to bring it to his lips in his usual greeting, but I use the gesture to pull him towards me, standing on my toes to peck both his cheeks like I would with everyone else.

“I loved the play. Looks like the audience did, too, congratulations,” I chuckle, amused by the surprised expression on his face. He recovers quickly, wrapping his arm around my waist as I turn to the cast, that observe me with mild curiosity. “You were all fantastic. And you,” I point at the lead, the tall woman that played the witch. “Girl, you were amazing. I almost cried at the end.”

“Aw, thank you!” she laughs. “I’m Bernadette, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Le Comte, who has been standing to the side, steps forward to congratulate Shakespeare on the play. I give them some space to talk, deciding to mingle with the actors instead, but their conversation is over quickly.

“I should head home. Have a good evening, Guillaume,” le Comte says before looking at me. “Shall we, ma chérie?”

“We were thinking of going to a tavern to celebrate,” Bernadette interrupts before I can answer, a friendly smile on her freckled face. “Needles to say, since you are friends of Guillaume, you are both invited. What do you say?”

“Count me in,” I smile. Le Comte politely excuses himself, something about him having work to do at the mansion. We leave shortly after him, once the actors have changed out of their costumes.

Our destination is conveniently placed right beside the theatre. It is much larger than the one I went to with Arthur and Theo, but the atmosphere is the same. We make our way to the back, and the men from the troupe join a few tables together to allow seating for the entire group. I pick a spot on the bench in the corner, next to where Shakespeare has left his coat.

“I would like thou to meet someone, my sweet rose,” he tells me. When I look up from adjusting my dress, I notice a young man that wasn’t at the theatre. “This is my friend, Antonio.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The newcomer greets me with a nod and a charming smile that reminds me of Mozart’s when we were at the ball. He has an accent strong enough for me to place.

“Likewise, Antonio. Italiano?” I ask, tilting my head. His smile grows wider with amusement.

“Sì. Tu lo parli? (Yes. Do you speak it?)”

“Ehh, solo un po’, ma capisco quasi tutto (Only a little, but I understand almost everything),” I humbly reply, shuffling to the side to make space for him. “Sono spagnola (I’m Spanish).”

“That’s... actually decent,” he replies, surprised.

Shakespeare, who I hadn’t noticed leave, returns with a large tray full of champagne glasses and an uncorked bottle.

“I want to thank you all for your hard work, and for being the best troupe in all of France,” he declares. “For the rest of the night, drinks are on me!”

His announcement is met with cheering from the actors, who quickly serve themselves a drink. The man who played the Devil, whose name I have forgotten, passes me two glasses from across the table. I give one to Antonio.

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” he continues, raising his champagne. “To the best players I have ever had the pleasure to work with!”

“And to the best director!” The tall actor chimes in with a surprisingly boyish smile. The rest of the group echo that sentiment before we all drink. After taking a sip, Shakespeare finally makes his way around the table and sits down beside me, effectively trapping me on the bench between him and Antonio.

“Did I mention Anaïs here is an outstanding dancer?”

“No, Guillaume, don’t make this about me,” I complain, blushing.

“It’s true!” he laughs. “I saw her with mine own eyes, with none other than Wolfram Theophilus Perti. That ball surely was something, dost thou not agree, my rose?”

"Are you wearing perfume? It smells lovely!” I change the topic, elbowing him under the table. I lean closer to ‘smell’ him, but whisper in his ear instead. “What game are you playing, William?”

He smiles innocently, fully aware that I’m not buying it for a second, but I play along. It is too late, however, for Antonio has already heard what he said.

“You know Perti?” he asks, looking at me with wide eyes. “Are you his friend?”

“Something like that,” I answer, taking a large sip of champagne. “We live together.”

“Ooh, lucky girl!” Bernadette chimes in from across the table. “I watched him perform once, and my God, he is beaucoup trop jolie! The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“I know, right?” I giggle. Though I have recovered most of my strength, I can still feel the effects of my recent blood loss. The alcohol is certainly getting to me a lot faster, making my cheeks burn red. I notice Antonio staring intensely at me, but I don’t know what to make of it. “Why, do you know him too?”

“N-no,” he stutters, unconvincingly. “I am just an admirer of his work.”

Normally, I would find his reaction at least a slight bit suspicious, but my tipsy brain chucks it down as him being a flustered fan, so I don’t give it much thought.

“So, how do you know Guillaume?” I ask, trying to make conversation. Antonio’s eyes focus behind me, I guess exchanging a look with the subject of my inquiry.

“We have a friend in common,” he simply says. That statement means nothing to me. From what I’ve seen, ‘Guillaume’ is friends with everybody.

I leave it alone for the rest of the evening, talking to the actors instead. Bernadette is surprisingly hilarious, and the one who played the Devil, whose name I now know is Timothée, is a total sweetheart. He is the youngest of the troupe, barely nineteen, and the reason he was chosen for the role is that he was the only one tall enough to wear the costume, but he did an astounding job. Regardless, the rest of the actors still tease him like a little brother.

When the time to leave arrives, Shakespeare kindly finds me a carriage to go back to the mansion. I say goodbye to the rest of the group and step out into the street, only accompanied by him. He opens the door for me and helps me climb into the carriage, and I politely thank him. Before I shut the door, though, I pull him closer.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Will, but whatever it is, stop it,” I tell him, suddenly serious.

“Whatever dost thou mean, my rose?. 'Tis merely a favour for a friend,” he says, his melodic voice seeping low through his smile. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what that favor could be.

“Are you pimping me out?” I gasp, incredulous. He just laughs and shakes his head, but does not correct me.

“Farewell, Anaïs.”

And with that, he pulls away, shuts the door between us, and slaps the roof of the carriage, signalling the driver to start moving. I glare at him through the window, unsatisfied with how the conversation ended, until he is out of sight. With a tired sigh, I sink into the stiff leather seat and close my eyes. It’s been a long day.

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xmagicxshopx · 6 years ago

Text

☕ Deeply Poisoned ☕

Genre: Greek Mythology, Fantasy, Romance, Angst Rating: M (Smut) Warnings: Jungkook being a manipulative man in love, smut Pairing: hades!jungkook x persephone!reader Notes: This is a Greek Mythology AU based on the story of Hades and Persephone. Not idol!jungkook. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: Please understand this is fiction and therefore the real BTS members would never act this way. Okay. Happy reading! Also, please don’t think that Hades “poisoned” Persephone at the very end. Poison doesn’t always have to mean killing. There’s no death in this one shot. I can promise you.

Tagging: @justbangtanandjams @lizardsocial

Summary: Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us. Deeply poisoned by the jail of you. I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway.

MASTERLIST , HADES!JIMIN , HADES!TAEHYUNG

“Your tea, sir.”

“Thank you, Theseus. You are dismissed.”

Hades watched his most faithful servant exit with an elegant bow of respect and soon left him with no other company but his bride. Yes....his beautiful, gorgeous bride-to-be. His future wife. Oh how stunning she looked there laying across the chaise lounge; staring into the fire and watching the flames do their heated dance.

“Be careful, love, that frown may not come undone if it stays for too long. A smile suits you way better.”

Of course all he was met with was silence. The smile formed by his lips was a small one but full of amusement. You were going to make an excellent queen of the underworld. Should he ever need to step down, he had no doubt you would be the perfect successor. He could practically smell your rage as you laid there looking stone faced. Some would say you looked bored but Hades knew better.

“We have a wedding to plan, my love. Have some tea and let us discuss the arrangements.”

Again, silence. Not that he expected anything less. It was no secret that you had came down here against your will. Kidnapped as you had called it. One day you would see that this was meant to be. This was where you belonged; next to him on the throne as the queen of the underworld.

“Persephone, my love, sulking will get you nowhere. You could become a mute but you will still stand at the alter and become my wife.”

His voice left no room for argument but it still held a soft and loving tone. Only Hades could pull that off. It was called tough love and he was darn good at it. You were the love of his life and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. He would do whatever was necessary to keep you by his side; whether you liked it or not.

“Please, have some tea.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“At least she speaks.”

“You aren’t giving me a choice, Hades.”

“Because I’m already giving you the best choice.”

By this time, you had at least turned your head to glance over at the male across from you. He was lounging in one of the huge, well-cushioned armchairs with a grand winged back. The deep burgundy color of the fabric went amazingly well with the shiny black leather of the chaise lounge you were laying across.

You despised him. You loathed him. He had taken you away from everything you loved. Your family, your friends, your home. Everything. It had been almost a month now and things weren’t any better. You didn’t feel any less sad or empty.

Thank god he had given you your own room. However, he claimed it was only because they had yet to become husband and wife. Once the wedding was over and the marriage was official, you would be moving into his room and sleeping with him in his bed. The mere thought disgusted you.

And yet, despite it all, despite the fact that he had kidnapped you and was keeping you trapped down here against your will......he had treated you with nothing but kindness. He had given you space which shocked you most of all. Space to come and go as you pleased. You could eat and drink whatever you liked and was free to roam the courtyard gardens. He claimed he had put in the gardens just for you.

You’d never forget the first time he took you to see them.....

TWO WEEKS AGO.....

“Okay, here we are.”

You felt him stop behind you so that he could carefully remove his hands from over your eyes so as not to mess with your makeup. It was odd having female servants who were actually demons doing your hair and makeup every morning. Blinking at the sudden brightness of the outside, you took in the sight before you.

Flowers, they were everywhere. Fountains carefully sculpted; water pouring out and all around them. A cobblestone path that branched out like a grand labyrinth. You had to admit, the sight was breathtaking. Naturally, given who your mother was, you loved flowers. You loved spending your time in the flower fields picking the wild blooms.

“I didn’t know flowers could exist in Hell.”

“They don’t. I um.....”

You looked over as he was now standing beside you and what shocked you the most was the sheepish smile on his face. He rubbed nervously at the back of his head; messing up his once perfectly coiffed hair. If you hadn’t already known who he was, you would have never guessed he was actually the king of the underworld.

“I had some servants sneak up to Earth and swipe some stuff. I’ve had them working on this ever since I saw you in my dreams.”

“You----You what?”

“Yes. You came to me in a dream, my beautiful Persephone. You were there and from that point on, I knew where fate was taking me. I needed you down here with me. Living with me as my wife and queen.”

He was a lot more composed now compared to a few second ago. No longer the sheepish, shy male and back to being the suave devil king. He turned his attention from you to back at the courtyard before continuing calmly,

“I had my people working countless hours on perfecting this courtyard. I knew how much you loved flowers; watching you countless times frolicking in the fields.”

“I don’t frolic.”

You heard his sudden snort of amusement and it would seem even he wasn’t expecting that sound because he quickly covered his mouth in slight embarrassment. Hades, the most evil man of all, had just snorted. Meanwhile, you stood there with your arms folded and a small but loud pout on your face.

“No offense, beautiful, but you definitely frolic.”

THE PRESENT......

That was the first moment you thought Hades might actually have a heart. So you had attempted to plead with him. Begged him to let you go. That if he truly loved you the way he claimed he did, that he would let you go and return you to Earth. But you had no such luck. He just kept insisting that you would grow to love it here just as the flowers did.

Suddenly, he was standing up and your dark, hollow eyes followed him. With curiosity slowly filling said eyes, you watched him as he sauntered over to you only to plop down on the floor so that his face was mere inches from yours as your head was comfortably positioned on the lounge’s armrest. He grinned cheekily at you only for you to scoff which lead him to chuckle softly.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“You’d look cute beheaded and dismembered.”

“Dang, babe. Keep talking dirty to me. I’m loving it.”

He full-on laughed when you lightly hit him over the head with your hand. Why you hadn’t truly decked him confused even yourself. Perhaps you figured there was no point? Or maybe it was something else. You didn’t quite understand it.

“So I was thinking black for the color.”

“It’s a wedding, Hades.”

“Yeah but it’s a wedding in the Underworld. We’re supposed to be all dark, spooky and evil down here. Black is like our official color.”

You rolled your eyes as he fabricated a small journal along with a quill and a bottle of ink. Apparently he was going to take notes of their planning. You had to admit, Hades may be an evil man, but he was an elegant and sophisticated one. His penmanship was astounding and you wished you could learn how to read and write. It was like he could sense your troubles as he stopped writing and turned to glance at you.

“You okay, my flower?”

“Ye-Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Persephone. But I trust you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

You remained silent as he went back to what he was doing. His perfect scrawl started to fill the pages but you couldn’t understand a single word of it. It all looked like a bunch of symbols to you as you laid there; watching over his shoulder. Irritation gripped and ate away at you before you finally confessed with a tone of defeat,

“I don’t know how to read or write.”

The sounds of quill scratching against paper suddenly came to a halt and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck and trying to spread over your cheeks. The tips of your ears were burning by the time he had turned around a bit to glance over at you. Surprisingly enough, there was a warm smile of understanding on his face.

“Was that it? Oh, sweetheart. That’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. Lots of folk don’t know how to read or write because they’ve never had a reason to.”

Hades may be the king of evil, but you were his weakness. The one thing that made him soft. Seeing you there laying across his lounge looking all bashful melted his heart. You were so adorable and precious and you were all his. No one was going to take you away from him. Not now, not ever. Smiling and shifting to where he had set the quill in the ink bottle and set the book aside, he rested his chin on the edge of the lounge and said softly,

“If you’ll have me, I would consider it not only a joy, but a great honor to be the one that teaches you how to read and write. If you’re interested in learning, of course.”

The silence that followed seemed to drag out while you laid there pondering your options. On one hand, you really did want to learn. However, it nearly made you sick to think that he would be the one to teach you. Then again....aside from all the horrible things he’s done and what he does for a living.....he really has been nothing but kind to you. And he seems like he’d make a pretty decent teacher.

“Just so you know, this changes nothing. You’re still the dirt bag who kidnapped me and is holding me captive down here against my will.”

You hated how his warm chuckles made your heart flutter. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this to you. He wasn’t supposed to have this effect on you. You were supposed to hate his guts; his very existence.

Furthermore, why did he have to look so handsome? Sitting there all decked in black with that very form fitting turtleneck that showcased his firm chest and broad shoulders. And those ripped skinny jeans that made his thighs look like freaking tree trunks. It was when you began to wonder what it would be like to sit on his lap that you brought your thoughts to a screeching halt. Perfect timing, too.

“Babe? You okay?”

“Yeah. So um-----Where do we start with this whole reading and writing stuff?”

With a soft bark of laughter, he picked the journal back up along with the quill and ink bottle. Patting the spot next to him, you silently obeyed and slid off the lounge to sit beside him. With both your backs against the edge of the lounge, it was then that he finally answered your question.

“I figured we could start with the reading. I’ll write and you read. But first we have to learn the alphabet.”

Seemed simple enough. You watched him as he started writing random symbols on an empty page of the journal. With you being on his right side and him being right handed, sometimes your shoulders would touch and every time it left your skin tingling beneath the fabric of your dress. But that wasn’t all.

As he wrote down what you presumed to be the basic alphabet, his foot would occasionally bump yours. At first you just thought it was an innocent accident or maybe his foot would move whenever he was concentrating. But after awhile, you discovered he was being playful and so you took your bare foot and shoved his sock covered foot back. He chuckled and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking,

“Is the all feared and powerful Hades seriously playing footsie right now?”

“Yes he is. What of it???”

“Oh my god. You’re such a man child.”

You playfully roll your eyes and he just laughed even more. It was amazing how this man was supposed to be the most feared above all and yet here he was acting like a big kid who liked picking on other kids on the playground. Then again, you supposed you’d rather have that than him torturing you. Things could definitely be worse for you right now.

“So let’s start with the first letter.”

And so there the two of you sat on the rug covered floor of the living room with your backs propped up against the edge of the chaise lounge. He would introduce each letter to you one at a time in the proper order. He explained the various sounds each letter could possibly make when used in a sentence. Never in a million years would you have guessed that the devil himself would be the one to teach you how to read.

“There’s actually a library in here, you know. Once you get the hang of it, we can read together. I bet you’ll love all the cheesy, mushy, gooey romance novels.”

“Oh yeah? Let me guess----You go for all the murder mystery novels?”

“Hey----Murder mysteries are the best. Don’t knock it till you try it.”

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him only for him to do the same. Anyone who was on the outside looking in would have thought the both of you to be big kids but it was still a comical and perhaps even heart-warming sight to see. Just two people sitting together spending time not wanting to rip each other’s throats out. It was kind of nice.

So the lessons continued. Once you felt pretty comfortable with the alphabet, he moved on to some pretty basic words. Mostly three letter words so as not to overwhelm you. He was a great teacher, you’d give him that much. He held all the perfect traits of a leader and you could understand now why he was the king.

“What’s this word?”

“Um......I know it starts with S.....”

“Ah......I think the last letter is......Hades!”

You were a blushing mess when you suddenly figured out what word he was trying to spell for you. Extremely flustered, you tried to shove him but of course he never budged. Thankfully you hadn’t knocked over the small bottle of ink in the process of your attempt to get him as far away from you as possible.

“You’re so gross. Sex? Really?”

“Hey. At least you’re learning how to read, right?”

“Typical male.”

“You can’t blame me. It’s obviously going to be on my mind with all this talk about our wedding. Because we both know what happens once the wedding is over.”

With your arms folded and still quite flustered, you glanced over only to see him wiggling his eyebrows in a greasy manner. That was something else you despised. His eyebrow game was strong. Really strong. Was it possible to be attracted to someone’s eyebrows??? Because as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were fascinated with his.

“Again----You’re so gross.”

“Speaking of our wedding, we should probably get back to planning that, huh?”

The initial response was to recoil back to the lounge and resume your silent treatment. However, had he really given you a reason to do such a thing? No. Well yes and no. Could you really forgive him for taking you away from everything and everyone you know and love? Could you really just let that go? Could you picture yourself standing next to this evil man for the rest of your days?

And why the hell did the idea of having sex with him set your core on fire???

“What do you say, we have Theseus make us a fresh batch of tea along with those small shortbread cookies that you won’t admit you love and we can talk about our wedding. For real this time.”

“Do you always have to get that jab in there? How do you know whether or not I like Theseus’ shortbread cookies?”

“Because I have eyes and ears everywhere and he told me you loved them?”

“He ratted me out!?!?”

Hades let his head fall back and as he smiled through his laughter, you could see his crows feet trying to show and his bunny teeth were on full display despite staring at his side profile. What bothered you the most was how torn you were between decking him a new shiner or kissing that dumb smile off his face. With a huff of annoyance and your lips forming a pout, you mumbled in defeat,

“Whatever. Just get me those stupid cookies and your stupid tea.”

“That’s my girl. I knew you’d see things my way.”

“Why I outta!-----”

But before you could follow through with any kind of feeble threat, the male had snapped his fingers and within seconds, his favorite servant was back and at attention.

“Yes, sir?”

“Theseus, it would seem my beautiful flower and I got caught up in wedding planning and the tea has run cold. Could you please brew us a fresh batch. Oh----And could we get a plate of those shortbread cookies you make? Per my flower’s request.”

“Of course, sir.”

When the male servant had left, you couldn’t help but look over at your soon-to-be husband and it dawned on you......

“Why do you treat him so much better than the rest of your servants? You treat everyone else like crap but you treat him like a real person. Why is that?”

It surprised you how silent he was. Or perhaps he was just mulling over how to properly answer your question. Heck, maybe even Hades himself had asked that question a few times here and there. Setting the journal down in his lap, he put the quill back in the ink bottle and pushed everything to the side so that it wasn’t in the way. Turning so that he was now more turned towards you, he smiled softly; warmly even.

“Because he’s faithful. He does what I tell him to. His death......was an unfair one. So I took mercy on him. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mafia. He was their butler. Got shot right between the eyes. Died instantly. He didn’t deserve such a fate but it was a fate he chose. He knew what he was getting into when he took that job. But still......”

“So that’s why he’s down here? Because he chose the mafia?”

“Pretty much.”

You found yourself staring at him. There he goes again. The big bad evil Hades whom was supposed to torture people for a living, and granted he did, but here he was looking like a young man who carried more weight on his shoulders than anyone could imagine. You watched him pick at random fibers in the rug you both were sitting on; the awkwardness practically radiating off of him.

This was a rare side of him, though. Or was it? Was this the same man who had took you to the courtyard gardens? The same man who sheepishly confessed he had his people grow a whole garden just for you. There was definitely more to the lord of the underworld aside from his bad reputation. Just when you were about to reach out for his hand, Theseus came through the doors and you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Your tea and cookies, sir and madame.”

“Thanks, buddy. Take the rest of the evening off, okay?”

“As you wish, sir.”

Just as the servant was about to head for the doors, you piped up and said with a pointed finger,

“You! I’ll deal with you later, tattletale.”

However, all this got you was a soft chuckle from the male sitting next to you and a small smile of amusement from the servant. After giving you an elegant bow, he went for the double doors and just as he was about to close them behind him, he said in his smooth voice,

“Of course, madame.”

With the doors now closed and leaving just the two of you, Hades and his chuckles grew a bit in volume before he said in thick amusement,

“Babe, I think that threatening tone of yours needs some work.”

“Oh shut it. You know how I like my tea, right?”

“Absolutely. Get your pretty self comfortable again and I’ll fetch it for you.”

While you were plopping yourself back onto the black leather chaise lounge, you watched him carefully as he prepared the two cups of tea. How could a person look so fine when all they were doing was pouring liquid into cups and adding lumps of sweetener??? Soon enough, he was carefully walking over to you with a steaming cup perched on a matching saucer.

“Your tea, my love.”

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows, darn those eyebrows, shot up in surprise and that bunny smile was back as he asked in a clearly teasing tone; now pouring and doctoring up his own cup of tea,

“I get a thank you? To what do I owe this pleasant mood you’re suddenly in, hmm?”

“Oh shut up.”

“Well that didn’t last long.”

While you carefully blew on the steaming liquid to help try and cool it faster, you noticed out of the corner of your eye how the male had picked up his items off the floor and was now scooting his huge, winged back hair over to you so that you both could be comfortable while you worked.

It was a bit surreal now to think that you were finally accepting fate. Is that what you were doing here as you allowed him to start back up with the wedding plans? Would some people call it giving in? Did this acceptance make you a quitter? Did it even matter at this point???

“So I was thinking if you’re not entirely a fan of black, then you can pick one color to go with it. How does that sound?”

“Deal. Let me think......Hmm.......”

You sipped at your tea now that it was cooled down enough to where it wouldn’t burn your tongue. Taking notice of how this tea tasted a bit different from the blends you’ve had before, you tried to think of what color you could possibly want for this wedding. And then it hit you.

“This color.”

The male turned his attention away from the journal where the tip of the quill was poised and ready to write down whatever color you wished. You were pointing to the deep burgundy of the fabric that his chair was made out of. While he was curious, it made sense to you. Call yourself cheesy, but it made sense in your mind.

This room was where you finally accepted your fate. Where you accepted him and his world. In this very room where the furniture was black and burgundy. Those were going to be your wedding colors.

You still weren’t entirely happy about it, but what else could you really do? Escaping was obviously out of the question and it wasn’t like he had dragged you down here to torture you. In fact, as you had been thinking about over and over all evening, he has treated you with nothing but kindness and his own twisted form of love.

“Burgundy it is. Good choice, my flower.”

The planning continued as the both of you enjoyed the tea and cookies. Dang. You really were a sucker for those shortbread delights. Within 20 or so minutes, you both had agreed on colors, location, and vows. The ceremony would be held out back in the courtyard gardens and the both of you would write your own vows.

“You’re not gonna fill yours with all the ways you’d like to kill me, are you?”

After taking a moment to dramatically hum in thought while taking another sip of your tea, you acted like you were really thinking about it as you stared up towards the ceiling.

“I might throw in a couple here and there.”

“You’re so mean to me. I feel like this relationship is one-sided.”

“You don’t say?”

You tried your best to keep up the smooth and suave facade but it honestly didn’t last but only a couple seconds before you were softly snorting and laughing; his own noises of amusement mixing well with yours.

It was then that you took notice of......how warm you were. Not the fuzzy kind either. In fact, you were starting to break out in a light sweat. Balancing your saucer and cup with one hand, you used the other to lightly fan at your face. Looking over, you could see the male was starting to get a bit warm too; a slight sheen of sweat reflecting off the light from the flames of the fireplace. He had to be dying in that turtleneck.

Now that you were looking him up and down.....something wasn’t right here. Something was wrong. Your body was on fire and you itched to touch him; wanting nothing more than to rid him of those ridiculously tight clothes and feel him up. You wanted to know what lay beneath the fabric. Was he truly sculptured like the greek god he was? You looked up and locked eyes with him. He was starting to breathe a bit heavier just as you were; his eyes dark as coal.

“Hades.......what’s in this tea?”

“Does it matter?”

Silence presumed but only for a small second as the two of you played a battle to see who could undress who with their eyes the fastest. And within the following seconds, all hell broke loose.......no pun intended.

“Get over here, flower.”

Sounds of fine china clinking and clattering filled the silence as you both scrambled to put your cups of tea aside, shortbread crumbs went flying and soon enough you were straddling his waist as he sat there in the huge armchair. Lust filled his eyes as he stared into your own darkened orbs.

“Good girl. Now undress me. It’s bloody boiling in here.”

“You’re the one who chose to where a turtleneck in Hell.”

“Pipe it down, woman, and just do as I say.”

Pouting, you nonetheless did as you were told and watched him lift his arms so that you could work on getting the form fitting garment off of him. With the article of clothing now on the floor, you took a moment to feast your eyes on the man in front of you. Wow. Yeah. He was built. Definitely built.

“Don’t get distracted, baby. Keep going.”

Huffing in annoyance at his silly demands, you moved off of him so that you could take care of his belt buckle. Making quick work of it, you soon had him raising his hips so that you could tug down his jeans and boxers all at once. Okay now you were just drooling. It was like standing in a buffet line.

Where did you start? Muscle, there was so much muscle. It was all you could do not to sink your teeth into his bicep or his thigh. His collarbones didn’t look too bad either. Your eyes traveling further down, you appreciated his perfectly toned abs and that v-line. Dear god. With your eye on the prize, you took notice of his erection. He looked absolutely delicious. You could feel yourself salivating and tried to pull yourself together. Noticing his smug smirk, you grumbled,

“Now what?”

“Let me show you.”

Again with the whole magic show. Not before rolling your eyes, you soon watched him raise his hand and with a crisp snap of his fingers, you heard soft rustling sounds behind you. Turning around with knitted eyebrows and a facial expression of curiosity, you were met with a sight that had you raising an eyebrow.

“I think you’re the one who reads cheesy romance novels.”

“You’re such a mood killer, babe. I’m trying to be romantic here.”

In front of the firelit hearth was a sight right out of a romance novel. Pillows stacked upon pillows and cozy cotton sheets all spread out. To the side, there was a small dish of strawberries next to a dish of chocolate sauce. Just as you were about to make another snarky comment, you felt his arms wrap around you in a back hug. A shiver ran down your body when he started kissing at the shell of your ear and whispered,

“I’m trying to be romantic because tonight I’m going to make love to my beautiful bride-to-be. And while I’m showing her just how much I love her.......”

He paused so he could let both his hands fan out across your stomach before finishing in a sultry but loving tone,

“I’m gonna fill her with a baby. Our baby.”

And then it all made sense to you.

“I’m never drinking your baby-making tea again. Tell Theseus to throw that shit out.”

His lips had been busying themselves with planting soft, gentle butterfly kisses to the skin of your neck when you said that. So naturally when he snorted in amusement, it tickled and caused you to giggle and try and squirm away from him. With another kiss to your neck, he chuckled and spoke casually,

“Oh come on. You love my baby-making tea and you know it. Now get your pretty ass out of that dress and lay down for me. And spread those legs nice and wide. I wanna see all of my gorgeous flower.”

Fortunately for him, you were growing just as impatient if not more than he was. With your dress and undergarments off in a flash, you made sure your hips swayed as you walked over to the cozy space in front of the fireplace. Carefully laying down, you took a moment to swipe a strawberry and dipped it in chocolate.

God, Hades was in his own sinful version of Heaven right now. There laid his future wife, his queen, and hopefully after tonight, the mother of his children. Laying there in all her beautiful naked glory sucking purposefully on a chocolate covered strawberry.

“You’re evil, baby girl. Absolutely evil. That’s supposed to be my job.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to learn from the best. I figure since I’m going to be queen and all.”

He moved to where he was crouching down and crawling on top of you; his face now nuzzling your bosom. You took a sharp intake of air upon feeling his lips press more of those soft, tender kisses to your heated skin. Lapping at one of your now very perky buds, he made direct eye contact with you before saying against your skin,

“That’s right, baby. You’re going to be my queen who helps me rule this land with an iron fist. Show no mercy.”

And then everything happened so sudden. You let out a small cry of surprise when you watched him wrap his lips around your nipple; sucking slow but rough. Your back arched on it’s own and your head pressed harder into the pillows. It would appear your nipples were a weak spot of yours. Something Hades no doubt took mental note of.

Not wanting the other breast to feel neglected, he used his large, warm hand and started to massage your other mound. In between sucking, licking, and nibbling, he began to talk his praises of what he hoped your future body would look like.

“I can’t wait to see you swollen and full. These babies full of milk for our little monster. You’re going to be positively radiant. Glowing. A sparkling diamond in the deepest, darkest pits of Hell. And you’re all mine. You hear me, beautiful? You’re all mine.”

You had been laying there basking in the pleasure he was bestowing upon you with your body bowing and your hands in his hair trying to push his face further into your chest. You yelped softly in mild pain and surprise when you felt him gently bite down on your nipple and heard him say with a soft growl,

“Say it.”

“I’m all yours!”

“Good girl. Now----Do you need prepped or are you already soaked for me?”

“I’m dripping. Please. No more teasing. You can love me and be all romantic later. I just need you in me now. This heat is killing me.”

Chuckling, he planted a few more kisses to your breasts before reaching up for your face. First he kissed your chin, then along your jawline. Feather-like touches soon moved to your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Upon landing a kiss to your lips, he allowed his forehead to rest against yours before whispering against your lips,

“Oh my beautiful flower......I will never stop loving you. Never.”

That’s when you felt him align himself with your drenched entrance. You were pretty sure things were about to get messy but you couldn’t care less. What you were more focused on was how careful he was being with you. It was as if he were handling glass. Perhaps Hades only weakness.......really was you.

“Tell me if it starts to hurt, okay?”

“Okay.”

The softness behind your own voice surprised you. Were you possibly growing soft for this guy? Yeah. Probably. Let’s be honest......he included chocolate sauce. The quickest way to a woman’s heart is chocolate. That’s a given fact of life right there. And so as he slowly started to guide himself past your folds, you wrapped your arms around him and started to plant soft kisses to his face. Chuckling in between his shaky breaths, he said with a smile,

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you? This is your first time, right? I don’t want to break you, darling.”

“I’m fine, Hades. Just relax. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Nodding despite the clouds of uncertainty swirling in his onyx orbs, he continued to move. The both of you gasp when you felt the bulbous tip of his length slide in past your wet folds. You had to admit, he had some weight to him. He was hard as a rock and larger than you initially thought. But you had no doubt that once you got used to the stretch, his girth would feel like sinful bliss.

And yeah. It hurt. It more than hurt. You felt like you were being split in two down there. But with soft words of encouragement from both parties, he was finally able to fill you to the hilt. In fact, another synced gasp filled the space between you when you felt him bottoming out inside you. God it hurt. You tried to fight back the whimpers of pain; not wanting to look like a wimp.

But to your surprise, Hades never once poked fun at you for it. Never once called you a baby or even played a pussy pun. In fact, he was busying himself by peppering your face with more butterfly kisses. His warm hands soothingly rubbing your hips to try and help distract you from the pain. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl. Taking me like a true champion. You were made for me, beautiful. Don’t worry. The pain will soon pass.”

And he was right. About half of that. The pain did eventually subside but it could have happened a lot sooner than it really did. Taking deep breaths to help calm your racing heart, you moved to where your nails were gently digging into the meat of his back and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Breathlessly, you spoke,

“Move. I’m okay. Please move.”

“Okay, my love. It’s okay. Just keep breathing and I promise you it’ll start to feel wonderful. Like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

Boy he wasn’t kidding. Sure it felt like hell at first, but soon it started to feel like you couldn’t get enough. Perhaps that’s what this whole thing was about. Finding out that Hell wasn’t such a bad place. That it didn’t have to be Hell at all. Perhaps, maybe, just maybe, there was a little bit of Heaven in Hell too.

“Does this feel good, baby? You feel amazing. So tight and warm around my cock. Taking me like a good girl. Ah---god so tight.”

“Faster! Harder! Please! I want more! I need more!”

You were like a feline in heat. His little sex kitten. Oh how he knew you were made for him in every way. The two of you fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. Not wanting to deny his queen of her needs, he picked up his pace but he could tell you needed more. Something a little extra. And that was when his hand slithered between your sweaty bodies and found your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god! Hades!”

“Yes, beautiful. Keep saying my name. Shout it. Scream it loud enough for the whole castle to hear. Let all of Hell know who’s making you feel this good.”

He could tell you were getting much closer. But he still hadn’t found that special spot he was looking for. If he could just get that perfect angle to where you were seeing stars, then he’d be happy. He knew instantly when he found it, too. You practically cried out in pleasure and your walls tried to squeeze the life out of him; causing him to grunt as he kept hitting that spot over and over.

“That’s it, my flower. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes! Feels so good! Don’t stop! Please!”

He hissed as he felt your nails dig deeper into his back; now basically clawing at the flesh. That was gonna leave a mark but he honestly couldn’t care less. He wanted you to mark him up. To mark your territory as you deemed fit and he would do the same with you. Leaning down, he started to do exactly that as he turned your neck into a star map.

You were close and so was he. He could tell from the way your walls were starting to spasm around him. Dear god you felt so good around him. If it wasn’t for wanting to wait on you, he’d have came a good few minutes ago. But he was waiting. Because this was about love but it was more than love. He wanted to create a family. Right here, right now.

“Come on, beautiful. Give me a baby. Boy, girl, twins, triplets. Doesn’t matter. I’ll be happy no matter what. Now cum. Cum for me, Persephone.”

Hearing your name and the way he talked about wanting a family with you, it was enough to send you over the edge. And just as Hades had planned and timed it, he breached your womb and made sure to spill every last drop of his load into you. He could only hope for the best. That you both enjoyed yourself and wanted the same things he wanted.

As you both laid there with him still deep inside you, because there was no way he was letting a single drop slip out, you took time to catch your breath. You had never felt anything like this before. He was right. This was definitely a first for you. Then again, you had always been the innocent flower that was supposed to wait till marriage. Finding your dream guy and getting married under the sunset and all that cheesy horse shit.

Guess you must have a thing for bad guys.

“So um.......you want another cup of tea?”

And I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #hades!jungkook #hades jungkook #os;deeplypoisoned

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snidgetsafan · 5 years ago

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Whom the Gods Love Die Young

Rating: G (for the moment)

Summary: The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

David and Emma travel to the Underworld to claim back Snow after her untimely death. In order to do so, they're going to have to face the dark and mysterious God of the Underworld and complete his challenges.

Seems simple enough until you add magic, divine quarrels, and the worst thing of all: feelings.

Notes: And here it is! The first chapter of my @cssns! Thanks to the lovely ladies who organized this second edition! I took inspiration from both the Hades/Persephone and Orpheus/Eurydice myths, which I hope you’ll enjoy. I’d like to thank @shireness-says for betaing for me (at such short notice too!) and for cheering me one. Thanks darling, you’re a gem! I’d also like to thank @distant-rose, who helped me with the mythological aspect of my fic when I was plotting it. She is a font of knowledge, people! All mistakes are mine, however. I’d also like to thank all the lovely ladies at the CSSNS Discord, who helped me when I needed it, and who always encouraged me when I needed it. Love you guys! And last but not least, I’d like to thank @tennant-the-tigger for the fantastic art she made for this fic, and which you can see at the top of this post. Thank you so, so much! (Go give her some love!)

Word count: 3.6k (on AO3)

The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

Emma’s eyes follow David as he paces back and forth in the dark room, not unlike a lion in its cage. They’d been asked (well, asked was not quite the right word; almost physically pushed in would be more accurate) to stay in this waiting room until the King of the Underworld could receive them, but Emma isn’t fooled. There are no windows in the room – probably because they’re deep under the hill the palace is built against – and Emma is pretty sure at least one person is standing on the other side of the only door. They’ve managed to travel to the realm of the dead quite easily, but Emma fears it will take a lot more to get out.

It had been surprisingly easy to get this far. After David had convinced her to accompany him on his mad trip to reclaim his murdered bride, Emma had sought the counsel of Elsa, Hecate’s High Priestess and Emma’s mentor within the temple. Prayers to the goddess had resulted in the appearance of two golden boughs on the altar, which the young priestess understood to be Hecate’s blessing.

(The strange dreams which plagued her that night must have been another gift - visions of boats, three sets of glowing eyes in the dark, pomegranates, and whispers of a word. She has no idea what "Killian” means, but she feels that it's essential to their quest.)

The legends about the whereabouts of the entrance to the Underworld were surprisingly accurate, and showing the golden boughs had allowed them to cross the Styx on Charon’s boat. The sedative-laced meat that David had brought took care of the three-headed hound guarding the gates of Hades (hadn’t that been a frightening explanation for the glowing eyes), and they had soon arrived at the doors of the dark palace.

But that’s where it had gotten more complicated. The guards they had come upon apparently weren’t used to having to deal with living people, as David had barely been able to explain why they were there before they had been shoved into this room, were they had been waiting for what felt like hours, leading to David’s pacing. Emma, for her part, was trying to keep a calm façade in case they were being watched (they were, she just knew it, could feel eyes on her, had been able to since they had stepped into the Underworld).

Waiting for such a length of time is not beneficial to Emma’s nerves. Ever since Snow’s death, David – and Emma by extension – hadn’t stopped moving and acting. Emma knows that for her brother, this is a way to avoid confronting the memory of his bride ( wife , she can hear David’s voice insist in her mind) dying in his arms during their wedding ceremony. Grooms traditionally give an apple to their bride to symbolize their ability to provide for their future household, and the bride’s eating of the apple signifies her acceptance of her husband, the final act of the wedding ceremony (well, before the very last act of consummation of course, but that was not something done in public, nor something Emma wants to think about in relation with her brother. Ever). Except that this time, the apple had been poisoned by Snow’s witch of a stepmother in an unthinkable desecration of the wedding ritual and a blasphemy against Hera, and only a single bite had been enough to kill Snow in mere seconds.

The witch had been immediately smote, her heart giving out even before Snow had taken her last breath. Her corpse had been found on the steps of Eris’ temple, where she had probably been trying to seek refuge. Seems like not even the goddess of revenge can protect you from Hera’s wrath. She’d probably gotten a straight ticket to Tartarus, Emma thinks grimly.

Good riddance.

But David hadn’t let misery take hold of him, and had instead gone straight into anger, arguing that Snow should have been protected by the goddess of marriage during her own wedding, that it wasn’t fair, and that the gods help him (or not, Emma couldn’t help but think), he was going to find his wife and bring her back. Emma had followed him, mostly so he wouldn’t end up dead too, but also because Snow was her friend. She could still see her collapse into David’s arms every time she closed her eyes.

The young priestess’ thoughts are interrupted by the door opening and a mousy little man wearing a red Phrygian hat comes in, looking surprisingly… ordinary. David stops pacing too, coming to stand next to his sister as they watch the man approach them, followed by a tall helmed guard.

“Good evening, Emma and David, my name is Smee. I was told you’d like to speak to his Highness?” the little man says, looking at them expectantly.

Emma blinks, jarred. The man – Smee – looks so out of place, with his colorful hat and affable manners, stepping into this dark stone room in the heart of a hill which is itself in the heart of the Underworld. The siblings have both been gearing themselves to meet with opposition and hostility, not… politeness.

“Er,” she says eloquently, looking at David, who looks as flabbergasted as she feels.

“This way?” Smee continues as if nothing is amiss, gesturing towards the door before exiting into the hall.

David leads the way out of the door, before slowing down to let Emma step up beside him as they walk down the corridor, sandwiched between Smee and the guard. David steps closer to her, allowing the folds of their chitons to conceal the frantic way he grabs Emma’s hand, the strength of his grip betraying his anxiety at the meeting to come. Emma doesn’t mind, as she’s grabbing onto her brother’s hand as tightly as he is, although perhaps not for the same reasons. David’s only goal is to get Snow back; he isn’t thinking about anything else. Emma can see the bigger picture, and that bigger picture is that they’re going to be face to face with the freaking God of the Dead .

Very little is known about the God of the Underworld. Emma knows he is the brother of Liam, God of the Seas and of Arthur, God of Thunder and King of Mount Olympus, that he was given the Realm of the Dead to govern, and that he rarely leaves his kingdom. So little is known about him that mortals don’t even know his name, forcing them to use one of several monikers when referring to him such as King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, or even simply Hades, as if the god were equal to the realm he rules. Despite all these names, the god is rarely mentioned in the mortal world. His very role of Agesander , the soul carrier, makes him the most terrifying figure in the Pantheon to most people.

Emma can still feel eyes on her, even more intensely than before. Her shoulder blades itch from the uncanny sensation of being watched, but she refrains from squirming, not wanting to show any discomfort to their escorts. She has to stay strong, she repeats to herself as a mantra. David’s sanity and Snow’s life (and their own, too, she guesses) are at stake here.

What feels like hours later, but is probably only minutes (five flights of stairs, though; she had no idea coming to the Underworld would be so physical), they arrive in another, more airy part of the palace. There are actually windows here, and she can feel a breeze ruffling her hair and the edges of her clothes. While made of dark stone, the palace didn’t seem as gloomy as she had expected, Emma notes with some surprise. Light streams into the halls, making the floors gleam, and a glimpse out of the window affords her a view of what seems to be an orchard and rolling fields beyond that.

Soon after they enter the hall, their guides stop in front of two massive basalt doors. The portal opens soundlessly in front of them, revealing a grand throne room beyond. Smee and the guard in front step in, heading towards the throne at the other end of the room, and David and Emma follow, taking a deep breath to center themselves.

A man – no, a god – sits on a high-backed throne on a grand dais, seemingly bored, if his slumped position can be believed. His lavish black clothes and spiky crown clearly designate him as the ruler of this place yet something feels… odd. Emma frowns but says nothing as she approaches with David. After all, it’s not like she has anything to compare the situation with. While becoming a priestess of Hecate has afforded her easier contact with her goddess, she hasn’t met her. Not even Elsa has had that privilege, and she is the High Priestess of their temple. Still… this doesn’t feel right .

“So, you dare trespass on my kingdom?” the god’s voice booms in the cavernous hall as soon as they are in speaking distance.

David steps forward, dropping on one knee at the foot of the dais and bowing his head in deference, Emma demurely following his lead.

“We’re sorry, my Lord,” David begins, his eyes still lowered to the floor. “I merely wished for an audience to beg a request of you.”

“A favor, eh? I have temples for that, why didn’t you use the traditional method?”

“Because you must get these kinds of prayers every day, and I wanted to be sure you’d listen to mine. My bride – my wife was killed during our wedding, and I’m here to beg you to let her come back home.”

“You’re right, I do get prayers every day. What gives you the idea that you are any different from all of these people?”

Emma frowns as David tries to justify his plea. Hecate has gifted her with the ability to detect lies, and that is what she feels coming from the god right now. Can her power even work on a deity? Is it a blasphemy to even presume it can? And yet… something’ s not right. Keeping her eyes downcast, Emma nonetheless focuses all her senses on what the seated god is saying. The feeling doesn’t go away; on the contrary, it amplifies as he goes on. What’s going on?

“Please, my Lord,” David is pleading, desperate to sway the being in front of him. “I’d do anything to get her back.”

“I can’t give you your bride back,” the god says. True . “Can you imagine what would happen if people heard that the Lord of Hades lets people go? The kingdom would be swamped with people wanting their lovers, children, or evencats back.”

Emma decides to intervene, seeing her brother flounder in his desperation, and wanting to test a theory.

“The only way we were able to get to you, your Highness, was because Hecate helped us. I feel that if she deigned to assist us, it’s because she feels our quest is justified.”

“Help from Hecate?” the god asks suddenly, straightening on his throne, a move echoed by Smee and the guard still standing behind Emma. “What are you talking about, mortal?”

“The goddess gifted us with these boughs to pay the ferryman,” Emma answers, prompting David to open his satchel to show the glimmering branches. “And she gave me… instructions,” she finishes a little lamely, not knowing how to explain her dreams.

The god is silent, gazing over Emma’s shoulder, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Emma watches him, waiting for his decision.

Which is not the one she hoped for.

“Nonetheless,” he says, slouching back onto his throne, “a death is a death. I might be the Lord of the Underworld, but there are certain lengths I won’t go to, and this is one of them.”

Lie . A big, fat, blaring lie that sets all of Emma’s senses aflame as she takes a surprised breath.

“No, you’re not,” she blurts out, staring at him incredulously now. What’s going on? Who is this man – no, not a man, divinity definitely oozes from him, he is a god… but not the god of this place.

“What did you just say.” the god rumbles, David’s hissed “ Emma!” drowned by the sound echoing all around them. Everything is still in the room – deathly so, she thinks a little hysterically as she realizes she has become the center of attention. The stares from the men in the room, as well as the invisible eyes which have been following her every move, weigh on her like so many lead weights. And yet…

“You may be a God, my Lord, but you are not the ruler of this place,” she repeats a little more assuredly, ignoring David’s attempts to shush her. The more she thinks about it, the more Emma’s sure of herself. And the angrier she grows. They’re here to beg for Snow’s life; David is slowly going mad with pain, she’s grieving for her friend as well, and these gods (because the Lord Hades has to be part of this masquerade, he has to) are playing games with them.

“Quite presumptuous of you to make such a claim.”

“I know when someone is lying. And you are,” Emma answers calmly, knowing there’s a chance those could be her last words.

“You have some gall, mortal. I like it. Well, this was fun while it lasted,” the god says as he rises, his solemn demeanor dissolving into nonchalance as he descends from the dais, walking towards them. “They’re all yours, pal, have fun with them,” he says as he passes them without stopping, clapping the guard behind Emma on the shoulder before sauntering out of the room.

Emma and David turn as one man towards the guard, both having the same thought. Had the actual God of the Underworld been with them the whole time? How had they not noticed ? Because now that they look at him, the same powerful aura that had emanated from the pseudo-Hades also seeps from the guard’s skin, clearly betraying his divine nature.

The guard sighs, looking to the ceiling, before he unclasps his helmet and takes it off, looking at the siblings exasperatedly. Stepping in front of them, he throws the helmet to Smee before crossing his arms, his clothes changing right in front of their eyes from a soldier’s garb to a black himation revealing one of his strong shoulders as well as part of his chest.

“Cat’s out of the bag, then.”

Emma tries to keep her cool. It would serve no purpose at all for her to berate a god.

David has no such qualms, however, his temper getting the best of him. “You… you mean all of this was just a joke? Who was that?”

“That, as you so eloquently put it, mortal, was Hermes, messenger of the gods. Before you put voice to the thoughts I can so clearly see on your face, may I remind you that he is my nephew, and you are in my domain?”

David swallows nervously before chancing a look at Emma, who surreptitiously nods. All true, even the threat. Especially the threat. Hermes had been all talk; his uncle will not hesitate to put action to word.

“No, your Highness,” David mutters apologetically.

“Good. Now, let’s be quick about this: I cannot help you on your quest. Your fiancée has died, and dead she shall remain.”

David’s face crumples as he hears the god deal his judgement in such a final tone, before he steels himself once more, straightening his spine and raising his head.

“But it’s not fair! She was killed during our wedding ceremony! She should have been protected by Hera!”

At this, the god perks up, looking more closely at David. “Your fiancée is Snow Leuk��?”

“Yes!” David exclaims, his hope renewing at the god’s recognition. “You’ve heard of her?”

“I’ve heard of her killer,” the god corrects, sneaking a glance at Emma. “It’s not often we get new guests in Tartarus.”

So Regina had been sent to Tartarus to endure eternal torment, then. Emma doesn’t feel as satisfied as she had been earlier, but she can’t feel any pity for the woman either. She had gotten what was coming to her. Taking a look at her brother, Emma is surprised not to see a smile on his face at the news. The gods know he had ranted and raved about what he’d do to Regina since Snow had died and they had embarked on their quest, but now that he knows she’s suffering far worse than anything he could have come up with, he just looks… grimly resigned. Which shouldn’t really surprise Emma anyway; her brother is a just and fair man who would never do ill on any other soul, despite his words.

“So you agree that Snow’s death was unfair, then?” David tries to press his advantage.

“My role is to care for dead souls, not to pass judgement on their lives or deaths,” the god answers shortly, clearly growing tired of this conversation. “Now, I’ll kindly ask you to leave my kingdom, unless you want to be made permanent residents of it sooner than you expected.”

David isn’t budging. “But, the goddess Hecate – “

“Hecate gave you two trinkets and a dream and what, I should indulge your desires? You think you’re the only one who’s ever gotten a god’s favor to come down here? Orpheus did, and Orpheus failed. This is my kingdom, my realm, and I will rule it as I see fit, whether or not it pleases you, your sister, or bloody Hecate!” the god shouts in anger, getting closer and closer to David until their noses are practically touching.

Emma watches all of this, thinking furiously. When put in this light, Hecate’s gifts did help them get here, but now if looks like they’re on their own. Are they, though? Every step of their quest, every difficulty had been thwarted by a hint or a boon from the goddess. Why not this one too? Emma thinks about her dream. She doesn’t see how pomegranates could help her in this situation, which leaves her with…

“Killian,” she says, looking up at the god, who freezes as soon as the three syllables pass her lips before whirling to look at her, completely ignoring David and an agape Smee.

“What did you just say?” he growls, stalking towards her, his blue eyes flashing.

This is the first time she has the full attention of the god, and it is… intense. It feels like being under a hundred gazes at the same time, watching her from all angles. Actually, she has felt like that several times since arriving in the Underworld, even though the feeling hadn’t been that strong then. Was that the god’s eyes she had felt? Had he been watching them since the gates? If he had known about them, then why hadn’t he come to them earlier?

“I said ‘Killian,’ your Highness... That’s your name, isn’t it?” she realizes, seeing him react once more to the word.

“Who told you?” he demands, now towering over her and ignoring her question.

“I– it was in my dream?” Her answer sounds more like a question, the god’s proximity and the fire in his eyes rattling her and making her lose control of her voice. “I told you, Hecate sent me a dream, and that was– “

“Yes yes, that was part of it, right,” the god – Killian – interrupts as he once again whirls around, pacing agitatedly in front of the two siblings. In the distance, a dog barks (there are dogs in the Underworld? Are there other animals?) and the god stops walking, his back to them. Dragging his hand heavily over his face, he sigh s as he goes to slouch on his throne , mutters of “bloody meddling hag ” reaching Emma and David before the god speaks up, sounding as if each word is a chore to utter.

“Very well. I agree to give you a chance to reclaim your fiancée. But!” he hurries to say, before David and Emma can get their hopes up too much, “in order to be allowed to leave the Underworld with her alive, you must accomplish three tasks for me to prove your worth and devotion. If you can complete them, then I’ll give Snow Leukḗ back to you, and the three of you will be able to leave freely. If you fail one of those… you’ll be taken out of the realm, and only allowed back in after your death. Are we clear on this?”

David seems about to burst with joy and hope, barely daring to believe this reversal of fortune. Overcome with emotion, he nods enthusiastically before thanking the god profusely. Emma too feels fit to burst with relief, bowing to the god before looking up, catching his eyes scrutinizing her before he turns away, his himation swinging about his legs as he walks towards his throne.

Emma has no idea what pushed the god to change his mind so suddenly, but she knows it has something to do with his name. No one knows his name in the living world, so she understands that it has at least some importance that Hecate chose to reveal it to her. But why did Had– Killian fold so quickly?

Three tasks to get Snow back. Seemed reasonable. If Herakles could manage twelve, Emma and David could manage a quarter of that, right?

Right? Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed!): @hollyethecurious, @shireness-says, @gingerchangeling, @slow-smiles, @wingedlioness, @branlovesouat, @snowbellewells, @kmomof4

#cssns #captain swan #ouat #cs ff #cs fic #snidget writes #wtgldy

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nitewrighter · 5 years ago

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Should Have Brought the Cat Ears

Wanted to do a quick fankid Special for Halloween in the spirit of the season. Jaime wasn’t in last year’s special, so he gets a spotlight this year!!!

---

“You don’t like it?” McCree tilted his head as they both stood over the plastic armor and replica blaster laid out on Jaime’s bed.

“It’s not that I don’t like it---” Jaime started.

“If you don’t like it, it’s fine, I’m really not trying to guilt you---”

“Just--don’t you think I’m a little... old for this sort of thing?” said Jaime. He caught himself and looked between his adoptive fathers, McCree donning ripped flannel, yellow contacts, and wolf ears and Hanzo in a more clean-cut Vampire costume. Jaime tried to recover. “I just--I was never really big on Halloween. Not really a dress-up guy.”

“It’s not that costume-y--It’s cool--” McCree gave a glance to Hanzo, “I mean--it’s cool, right?” McCree pressed his fingertips to his forehead, “Oh god I’m old.”

‘You’re not old,” Hanzo said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s Dranek Fang from They Came Beyond The Moon 5: Moonpunchers! I mean what’s not cool about a space bounty hunter?” said McCree, gesturing back at the costume. His face dropped. “It’s weird because I bought it, isn’t it?”

“Little bit,” said Jaime.

“Well you weren’t buying a costume, and if you’re going to the party---”

“Come on, everyone there’s like...practically 20 or whatever. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to be all cutesy bobbing for apples and stuff.”

“If you’re not going to wear the costume can you at least wear the safety cat ears?” said McCree.

“The safety what?” said Jaime.

Hanzo held up a pair of cat ears, “These cat ears were first gifted to me by your Uncle Genji during my first Halloween on the watchpoint--”

“Why do the cat ears have lore--” Jaime started.

“For the express purpose of, quote, ‘Not looking like a standoffish stick-in-the-mud at a costume party,’” Hanzo finished.

“I don’t need the cat ears,” Jaime said flatly.

“You’re gonna want the cat ears,” said McCree.

“I don’t want the cat ears,” said Jaime.

“He doesn’t want the cat ears,” said Hanzo.

McCree inhaled and exhaled, clearly trying hard not to take the rejection of the costume personally, and also possibly at war with himself with regards to whether or not he had any concept of what ‘cool’ was anymore. “All right. It’s cool. It’s cool. You don’t have to wear a costume. You don’t have to bring the cat ears.”

“Thank you,” said Jaime.

---

“I should have brought the cat ears,” Jaime muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Rei was standing in the doorway to the watchpoint hangar, dressed in a purple grecian gown with runny black mascara and a flower crown of wine-colored peonies. The costume actually went very well with her dark hair and the gray-white streak at her temple.

“Nothing,” muttered Jaime, moving past Rei, “What are you supposed to be?”

“Persephone!” said Rei with a dramatic flourish, “Goddess of Spring and Queen of the Underworld!”

“That’s... specific...” said Jaime, walking into the hangar. It was fully decorated for halloween, with Hard-light ghosts swaying from the ceiling and orange fairy lights strung up everywhere. Dry ice fog seeped out from over the two punch bowls. It was a bigger party than expected. Those in attendance aside from the Watchpoint kids were a couple of younger Shambali acolytes--both human and omnic, a veritable swarm of Lindholm grandkids, Mei’s intern Harper Khiang (Who, surprisingly was in some sort of form-fitting anime costume rather than a bee costume) and a few of her friends from Lijiang, and the Oxton triplets had flown in from London only to be off in their triplet clique as usual. There was music playing and a handful were noncommittally dancing, and everyone, everyone, everyone was in costumes.

“You’re gonna want the cat ears,” Jaime remembered McCree’s voice and felt an extra sting of regret.

“You made it!” Aedan sidled up alongside the two of them as they entered, carrying two cups of bright red punch and handing one of the cups off to Rei, “We were scared you weren’t going to come.”

Jaime’s eyes flicked up and down Aedan’s costume: The black toga, the dark circles under his eyes, the laurel-like headdress that looked like thorny withered twigs painted gold. “Seriously?” said Jaime.

“Hades,” Rei said in an even deeper, more dramatic voice, “King of the--”

“Yeah. I put it together,” said Jaime, looking between them, “Really? A couple’s costume? You don’t think that’s corny?”

“I kind of like it,” said Aedan, glancing down at himself, “I feel... powerful.”

Jaime snorted. “She should be Hades, and you should be Persephone.”

“I think I make a good Hades,” muttered Aedan.

“Which one of you has the completely unhinged mother?” said Jaime.

Aedan glanced off and sipped his punch.

“No no, it fits, because Persephone definitely kicks more butt than Hades,” said Rei, “She’s more vengeful and stuff.”

“This conversation is doing wonders for my self-esteem,” said Aedan flatly.

“Could be worse,” said Rei, pushing into him with her shoulder, affectionately, “We could be furries.”

“For the last time, I’m a sexy leopard! Not a furry!” Marti called from the punch table.

“The fact that you say a leopard can be sexy lends credence to the furry theory,” said Aedan.

“Call me a furry again and I’m putting my drag queen acrylics to good use,” said Marti, making a clawing motion with her long sparkly black and gold nails.

“Come on, Lord of the Underworld,” said Rei, hooking her arm in Aedan’s and dragging him off, “Let’s go dance.”

“Try the punch!” Aedan called to Jaime as Rei pulled him over to the dance floor.

Jaime huffed and walked over to the punch bowl, where Marti was poking at a small hard-light goblin that loomed over a bowl of snack mix and was programmed to harmlessly swipe at whoever was grabbing the mix.

“Would have thought you would be at a cool party,” said Jaime, filling up his own cup with punch. There were two punch bowls--alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Jaime opted for the former.

“This is the cool party,” said Marti, wrinkling her nose at him. Despite picking a fairly generic costume, even she had gone all out with a pretty high quality bodysuit, perming her hair into a curly mane with two small buns wrapped in gold ribbon at the front serving as her ‘ears,’ thick winged eyeliner, and, as she had clawed with earlier, impeccable acrylic nails, “So I’m guessing your costume is... very fresh zombie?”

“Har-har,” said Jaime, sipping his punch. It tasted like a complicated combination of apple, pomegranate, cranberry and ginger ale, with a light caramel undertone of whiskey, so he assumed Aedan made it. It was enough to loosen him up a little bit, but not enough to stop his hyperawareness of being the only one without a costume, “I don’t see why costumes are such a big deal.”

“Well they don’t have to be,” said Marti.

“Exactly!” said Jaime.

“But it’s nice to see what everyone picks. Kind of reflects what they’re interested in, where their minds are at.”

“Your mind is at ‘Sexy cat?’” said Jaime.

“My mind is at, ‘I’m always bogged down in black-ops gear, so it’s nice to be a little flashy, but I don’t like being the center of attention, but I might as well look good for anyone who’s looking at me,’” said Marti.

Jaime glanced at Aedan and Rei out on the dancefloor. “...fuck, they picked the death gods because they nearly died, didn’t they?”

“They basically did die. Can’t say they don’t have a sense of humor,” said Marti, sipping her own punch.

Jaime leaned against the snack table folding his arms. “Where are the twins?” he asked, looking around.

“You mean where’s Samir?” said Marti, smiling a little. Jaime scoffed and glanced off.

“I feel like I would have seen them already. They always put glowy doodads on their costumes,” said Jaime.

“See? You want to see what their costumes are!” said Marti, “Why are you down on dressing up yourself?”

Jaime shrugged. “Just... either never really had the chance to, or when I did have the chance I couldn’t decide, and then when the day finally came I’d always feel stupid if I was dressed up.”

Marti gave his arm a sympathetic pat.

The music stopped and the lights suddenly dimmed and Jaime looked over to Marti to make sure this was planned, or to ask if they should check in with Orisa or Satya for a potential breach, but Marti just calmly sipped her punch as a bright blue teleporter opened in the middle of the dance floor. A brief hush fell over the crowd on the dance floor, looking at the teleporter, when suddenly a bulky, heroic-looking gleaming white and blue mech suit (a normal, human-sized mech suit, but still a mech suit) stepped through. The mech suit struck a pose as the music suddenly kicked back on again. Jaime glanced over to see that Harper had hurried over to the DJ table to turn the music back on. The mech suit danced and Rei and the others laughed and clapped and cheered as the mech suit shimmied and bounced. Then another (also normal, human-sized) mech suit stepped out of the teleporter. This one was clearly meant to be the villain, with sharp acute angles all over its frame, broad sharp shoulders and a cinched waist, long claws on its gauntlets, a dark iridescent color scheme, and glowing red eyes. The teleporter closed behind him.

“Oh no! Look out behind you!” Harper called out theatrically from the DJ’s table.

The bulkier mech suit had barely turned around when it got blasted by what looked like a laser beam from the ‘evil’ mech, but turned out to be completely fine. The mechs mock-battled with blunted, hard-light swords for a few seconds before, with one spectacular simultaneous upward slash, both dematerialized the other’s helmet, revealing the Amari twins--Rajeev the hero mech, and Samir the villain mech. The dance floor clapped, Marti snickered and did her best to clap with a punch cup in one hand.

“...they don’t usually go all out like that,” said Jaime, “Do they?”

“This is the most people we’ve had in our generation on the watchpoint in years,” said Marti, “They wanted to do something special.”

“Oh... I see,” said Jaime, watching as Samir conversed with Rei and Aedan as Rajeev pretty much tackled Harper and swung her around, “This night is just engineered to make me feel like more and more of an asshole for not wearing a costume, huh?” said Jaime sipping his punch.

“We aren’t doing this to you,” said Marti, “I mean we’re still on the watchpoint. Maybe you can run back to your place and---”

“Hey,” said Samir, walking over and Jaime choked on his punch.

“Hey!” said Jaime, attempting to nonchalantly lean back against the table and awkwardly scooting it back as he did so.

“Fearless leader,” Samir gave a nod to Marti.

“Nope,” said Marti, “No fearless leader tonight. Tonight, there is only sexy leopard getting increasingly wasted on Halloween punch.”

“It’s good to see sexy leopard,” said Samir.

“It’s good to be sexy leopard,” said Marti, tossing her empty cup away, “Anyway, I’m going to go try and burn some of Aedan’s banshee booze off. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Yeah sure--” Jaime started before it hit him that Marti was leaving them to hit the dance floor.

“I uh--I like the whole...” Jaime gestured up and down at Samir’s costume.

“It was Rajeev’s idea,” said Samir with a grin, “Can you tell?”

“Yeah. Definitely,” said Jaime, “You pull it off though.”

“It’s all hard-light,” said Samir, looking down at himself as he filled his own cup with the non-alcoholic punch, “Like, honestly I’m just in a unitard under this.”

“Well yeah, but it’s like... good,” said Jaime.

“Thank you,” said Samir, “I actually..” he chuckled, “I spent like, a stupid amount of time on this.”

“Why?” the question fell out of Jaime.

“It was nice to make something out of Hard-light that didn’t have anything to do with a mission. I got into it,” said Samir.

“You also gave yourself heels,” said Jaime, looking down.

Samir motioned with his hand and the soles of his boots dematerialized down to his regular height. He still stood a solid four inches over Jaime.

“...Ass,” said Jaime as Samir re-materialized the soles of his boots.

“Happy Halloween to you too,” said Samir as they both sipped their drinks and looked out at the dance floor. They watched as Rajeev hoisted up a laughing Harper amid the din of the music. Harper’s form-fitting costume suddenly made a lot more sense with Rajeev right next to her.

“Oh I get it--she’s a mech pilot and he’s---” Jaime huffed, “Fucking couple’s costumes.”

“Hey, Rajeev and I are still doing twin costumes--what does that tell you about us?” said Samir.

“That like... you can actually make the twin costume thing really cool if you put some thought into it?” said Jaime.

“No--Well, I mean, yes,” said Samir, “But my point is the whole night is about not taking yourself too seriously.”

“Mm,” said Jaime.

They watched the dance floor for a little bit. Samir grabbed a handful of snacks from the snackbowl and gave a small jump as the hard-light goblin suddenly swiped at him as he did so.

“You’re not going to bring up the whole ‘Where’s your costume’ thing?” said Jaime after a while.

“Some people don’t have time for it, some people aren’t comfortable with it, it’s not a big deal,” said Samir, shrugging.

“...Thanks,” said Jaime. He looked out at the dance floor. “Though...honestly, at this point I kind of wish I did dress up.”

“Oh--psh. I can fix that. Here--” Samir stepped in front of him and pressed something at his wrist, activating the hard-light projector before putting his hands above Jaime’s head. Jaime reddened and sipped his drink and attempted to be as nonchalant as possible about feeling Samir’s fingers against his hair. There was a soft ‘vworp’ sound and Jaime felt a soft pressure on two points on his head and Samir drew his hands back. “There we go,” said Samir.

Jaime reached up and felt at his head, feeling two pointed shapes.

“...Cat ears?” said Jaime.

“I like cats. They’re the simplest ones I can make. If you don’t like them I could make like... horns--I could probably make antlers if I had a couple minutes--”

“No. I like them,” said Jaime instantly, “They’re perfect. I’m a cat.”

“A sexy cat,” said Samir with a finger gun. As coolheaded as Samir could be, there were definitely moments where you could tell, well beyond looks, that he was Rajeev’s identical twin.

Jaime snorted and looked down at his clothes, “What about this says ‘sexy cat?’”

“The fact that it’s you in cat ears?” said Samir.

Jaime scoffed and snickered. “That’s bad,” he said.

“Yeah I know,” said Samir, hooking Jaime’s arm in his and pulling him away from the punch table, “Come on, let’s dance.”

#mchanzo #mchanzo kid #symmarah kids #follow for more gency kid facts #reidan #jaimir

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elliepassmore · 5 years ago

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A Court of Mist and Fury Review

5/5 stars Recommended for people who like: fantasy, Fae, vague retellings, Persephone & Hades, found families At the start of the book, we're back in the Spring Court, though some things have changed since Feyre brought Amarantha down. For starters, there's a lot more people around than there were in the first one. We get to see a bit what court life is like in Spring and the kinds of people who reside there. They turn out to be pretty similar to what we'd think of when we think of snobby human nobility, so, naturally, they grate on Feyre's nerves. Unlike ACoTaR, we also get to see two of the other courts: the Night Court and the Summer Court. The Night Court is...definitely not what it was set up to be in the first book. Not to give too many spoilers, but it has two faces. One side, Velaris and the moonstone palace, is luxurious and vibrant, but peaceful. The other side, Hewn City, is dark and cunning and cruel, the side that Amarantha modeled her domain after. I really enjoyed seeing the stark differences between the two sides of the court, especially since they provide us with two kinds of cities, both beautiful in their own ways, but so completely different from one another. We also get to see a part of the court that's somewhere between the two, which is the Illyrian camps. The camps are mostly tents with a few stone buildings, and they fit more with the cunning and darkness of the Hewn City, but not nearly as cruel. Seeing so much of the one court definitely helps get a better grasp on the feel and nature of the place, which I really liked. The other court we see is the Summer Court, and only for a couple of chapters. Similar to Velaris, we get to see a city in the Summer Court that's vibrant, with the people there enjoying their High Lord's presence and aid in recovery. Unlike Velaris, the city feels more light. It definitely has the feel of a city on the sea in a way that Velaris doesn't, despite it also being located on the water. They have obviously different feels and tones to them, and I liked the subtle details Maas added to make these cities different despite their similarities. We also get to learn a bit more about the traditions of Prythia in this one as well. Having seen Calanmai and Nynsar in the first one, we now get to see the solstice and the Tithe of the Spring Court, as well as Starfall in the Night Court. Each holiday has its own background and their introduction through Feyre feels natural. I think there's a tricky balance when it comes to authors introducing world building to their readers and characters. Adding the information too obviously makes it feel forced, but including too little information too subtly can make it confusing. I think we get a good balance here, with Feyre having the holidays/events explained to her as they're happening or having her give a little info and brushing off the rest as "I wasn't really paying attention," the latter of which can only really be accepted because of her state of mind at the moment the holiday is occurring, but it works.

The plot amps things up a lot. If we thought Amarantha was bad, Hybern turns out to be so much worse, and they’re cunning enough to get their claws in in places we wouldn’t expect. I love how the tension was built up over the pages and there were times of ‘wtf is going on’ sprinkled throughout. Since the main showdown wasn’t until the end of the book, most of it was spent strategizing and hoping against hope that things would go right for once.

In terms of Feyre's state of mind, Maas once again does a brilliant job of showing the different ways people deal with trauma and depression. Feyre, for one, definitely has symptoms of PTSD--nightmares, triggers, feeling trapped, needing a distraction, inability to do things that once brought her joy, apathy--as well as, separately, symptoms of depression. She starts out having a pretty rough time and the switch to healing happens gradually and over months at a time, so despite her body's quick healing, Feyre isn't completely better until near the end of the book, and 'better' doesn't necessarily mean 100% okay. I especially enjoyed how Maas showed Feyre changing as she healed, because, let's face it, we're probably all aware (and it you're not, you're about to be) that trauma changes people and that, equally, healing from said trauma can also change a person. Both of these things hold true for Feyre, so she isn't the same person at the beginning of the book as she was at the end of the last one, and she's not the same person at the end of this book as she is at the beginning of it. In terms of healing, we also get to see Feyre separating from the mentality of abuse that Tamlin had her in. For physical growth, Feyre discovers she holds powers from each of the High Lords who gave her life, and it's super fun to read the scenes where she's training/experimenting with them (like most people who've read the book, I'm especially partial to the water-wolves scene). Tamlin is another character who has to deal with his trauma in this one...though maybe we should accept now that just about every character in this book has trauma they're healing/have healed from. Anyway, Tamlin desperately tried to protect Feyre in the first book, and we saw how jealous and possessive he could get, but what happened with Amarantha just pushed him overboard. He's now 1ox worse than in the first book, and basically smothers Feyre trying to keep her safe, continually triggering her PTSD and leading to the events leading into Part 2 of the book. What I like about this is that there were signs in ACoTaR that Tamlin could very easily turn into an abusive person and a lot of people ignored them or fell into the trap of believing them to be romantic--I'm not saying everyone did, but a lot of people definitely did, myself included--so his attitude and behavior doesn't come from nowhere. It's a good example of how trauma causes different people to react differently, though it's not an excuse, especially when Tamli does some pretty terrible things in this book and tries to play it off as "it was rough" or "I love you" or whatever else he says. We get to see more of Rhysand in this book, as well as more of his court. As previously mentioned, he's one of the many characters dealing with his own traumas from Under the Mountain, and we get an explanation for his actions in ACoTaR, proving he wasn't just being a massive dick to be a massive dick, but to protect people and to help Feyre bring Amarantha down without Amarantha knowing. Knowing he was against Amarantha the entire time adds a rape/sexual assault element to his servicing her Under the Mountain, which is addressed by both him and Feyre during the book. It's clear he has trauma from that, it's expressed multiple times throughout the book, and Maas handles the situation well. It isn't romanticized or trivialized, and his reservations and trauma from it are considered valid and aren't brushed aside or made fun of. Rhys ends up being a very complex character, with different sides to him, much like how his court has many different sides. He has the cunning, cruel side he shows to Hewn City; the relaxed, kind side he shows to Velaris; the warrior he shows to the Illyrians; and the caring and friendly side he gives to his Inner Court alone. Inside Rhys' Inner Court are Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren. Mor is his cousin in that loose sense that Maas has when it comes to cousins being related, and grew up in Hewn City. She's funny, acts irreverent, and fun-loving. She's willing to give people the space they need, but she's also willing to go to the mat for her family or push them when they need it. Like Feyre and Rhysand, she's survived darkness and trauma and came out the other side, though her healing was done centuries ago. Cassian and Azriel are both Illyrian warriors Rhysand befriended when they were kids. Cassian is fiery and pushes, but is unceasingly caring and would do anything for his family. He's the jokster of the group, definitely. Azriel is the more quiet of the two, the spymaster, and has a quieter method of caring for his family. Amren is a creature from another world who took the form of a High Fae. She's a bit scary, definitely otherworldly, and is surprisingly understanding about what others need in order to get things done. I wouldn't say she's caring, but she definitely cares for her family and people. We don't really see a lot of Lucien, but when he is around he mostly acts like Tamlin's lackey and not Feyre's friend. Nesta and Elain are in this book a bit more than the last one, and play a pretty crucial role in the middle and the end of the book. I liked the both of them by the time the last book ended, but Nesta's reactions toward Feyre and the rest of the Night Court made me dislike her a little, though her sparring with Cassian was hilarious and I treasure their interactions. Likewise, both Elaine and Nesta showed fire when it came to protecting each other and their people from the looming threat of Hybern. Tarquin, the High Lord of the Summer Court, makes a reappearance in this one too, along with some of his still-living family members. He seems like a decent enough guy, new to the whole ruling thing, but as he himself says, he hasn't quite learned the cunning tricks and backstabbery that High Lords and their courts often employ. This one's my favorite book in the series because we get to see more of the world of Prythia and we get to meet a lot of new, pretty awesome characters. I love the Inner Circle, they all fit together so well and have different methods and ways of doing things, but it works. I also really like the Feyre and Rhys we see in this book, so different from the ones we saw in the last book, but better for it. And Tamlin....when I first heard that he and Feyre were having issues(*SPOILER* and wouldn't end up together*END SPOILER*) I was disappointed, but after I read the book for the first time, I liked how it worked out much better. It’s a vague Persephone and Hades retelling, which may or may not have something to do with why I like it so much. The P&H myth has so many different renditions from ancient times to now and it hasn’t really been all that explored by YA fiction, so I love whenever there’s a nod to it somewhere, and if you know the more popular versions of the myth, there are more than sprinkles of it in the frame of the book. Honestly though, I think this is the best book in the series. ACoTaR was good, ACoWaR was pretty good too but with an...odd ending, and ACoFaS was an awesome bit of fluff, but this one is the richest in characters, world building, and plot.

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reignmyworld · 6 years ago

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My soul belongs to you Part 4 - Roman Reigns x Reader

Note: Please note that this story takes place in a Greek Mythology respectively Greek Underworld AU, also in modern times (hard to explain, see for yourselves :D). So please bear with me if I mess up with the accuracy somewhere. :-)

Summary: You are a barista at Starbucks, having noticed that there is a customer visiting that coffee shop on a regular basis, but although you have seen him several times already, all you know is his name: Roman. One day your life takes a turn for the worst when you receive a fatal call, telling you that your sister is fighting for her life. You are willing to give your own life in exchange for hers, you are willing to give everything to save her. Little do you know that someone was listening to you, someone was willing to save your sister’s soul and take yours instead. And you soon have to figure out that there is more to this world than you would have ever believed.

Warnings: angst

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

In order to read the other parts, please enter “My soul belongs to you” in the search on my blog. You should find them then without further problems. :-)

Tag List: @queenofthearchitect @trixdeee @calwitch @alexisbagans143 @the-queens-reign @mermaid-at-heart @taryndibiase @kingslayers-reign @scuzmunkie @happelu970 @vebner37 @sausagefest1996 @yndaree @i-prefer-queen @nikora3010 @aria725 @ersotoruiz @ashhdaniellee95 @roman-hetfield @lustyromantic @i-dont-care-i-ship-it-69

He was nodding his head, a sad smile on his face. You wanted to believe that you were trapped in a bad dream, that it was all just a beautiful nightmare, but you knew that this was indeed real. Actually, you were not one of the faint-hearted but after all that had happened, this was simply too much for you to process. You must have fainted as the next thing you remembered was that you woke up in a comfortable bed in a rather comfy room. You lifted yourself up carefully, looking around, trying to figure out where you were. The room was rather big, its interior primarily of black, violet and golden colors. You were lying on a huge king size bed, a beautiful bed canopy surrounding you. There were huge windows letting in some light while beautiful violet curtains surrounded them.

You had no idea where you were and it took you a few moments until you remembered everything. Your shift at the coffee shop, Roman’s strange behavior, him telling you that it was time for you to go, that strange cave, that three headed dog, the realization, that hit you when you figured out who he actually was. If you would have been in your own bed now, you would have said that it was just a weird dream, but the reality hit you hard. All of that really happened, your sister indeed magically survived, you sold your soul without knowing it and no matter how often you wanted to file it under rubbish, you had to accept that you apparently were in the underworld now, a place that you loved to read about but were rather certain that it didn’t exist.

Now that you had the time to sort your thoughts and your feelings, now that you had the time to think about it, you wanted to cry as you felt betrayed. You made a deal, that you didn’t even know, that it was on the table at all. Would you change your decision and not give your life for your sister’s? Of course not, but at least you would have expected to be told the truth. You had to laugh although you sounded anything but amused. Yeah, as if you would have believed anything about this in the first place if someone had bothered to tell you about it. The more you thought about the situation you found yourself in, the more realization hit you. You had read enough about Greek mythology to know what the underworld meant; it was forbidden for a mortal to access it just like it was forbidden for someone dead to leave it. That was what Cerberus was there for, making sure that no living being entered the underworld by accident just like no dead soul was supposed to leave. This meant, that you either shouldn’t be here or that you literally traded your life for your sister’s and that you were actually dead.

As you thought about it, tears were falling on your cheeks as this was way too much for you to handle. It was not primarily the problem of believing any of that, of accepting it. Sure, you had your problems with that, but you had already read a lot about it, having to admit even back then that you could accept the possibility of all of those myths or legends being true to a certain degree. What you could not handle, however, was the fact, that you were at a place, that you apparently weren’t allowed to leave, a place, where you had to stay, a place, you wouldn’t see your sister and your parents ever again. Before you could think twice you were burying your head into the pillow, crying your eyes out. You had no idea how long you let despair wash over you, had no idea how much time had passed, but as soon as you felt that you could trust your composure you left the bed. You wanted answers, you wanted an explanation for all of this and there was only one person, that could give it to you.

As you were searching for Roman - Hades - however you should call him, anger started to boil in you. You had no idea why but you felt betrayed, felt as if you had been brought to a place against your will, being forced to stay there. “The rape of Persephone”, you mumbled as you remembered one of the myths, you were reading and your anger grew as you couldn’t help but to notice the parallels. You had no idea where you were, had no idea where you were going. There were countless floors, countless doors leading to countless rooms. By the sheer dimension you would have guessed that this must have been a castle or rather a palace. “Sure where else would the ruler of the underworld live?”, you asked yourself sarcastically as you turned around the next corner, hitting hard against an obstacle.

Before you could stumble backwards you felt a strong grip around your arm, hearing a familiar deep voice shortly after. „Easy there. You should be in your bed resting and not running around here.“ ,Roman said as he made sure that you wouldn’t fall. You stared at him, exclaiming louder than you wanted to: „You... I want some answers and I deserve them now. And don’t even think about telling me to head back to where I came from.“ He was crooking an eyebrow at you before he shortly nodded his head, stating: „You are right and you shall have them. But not here. We‘re not the only people in this building and I’d rather not have other people listening. Just follow me.“ You had been freeing yourself from his grip in the meantime and started walking behind him as he headed for one of the countless doors.

When he opened it, you found yourself in what looked like a huge living room. The whole furniture and interior was mostly dark again but it nevertheless looked surprisingly comfy in there. Roman gestured to you that you should sit down on the couch with you following his request while he sat down on the opposite of you in a big chair. Before he had the chance to ask what you wanted to know, you already started: “How dare you bring me here, taking me away from my family? If that’s a contract I have unknowingly signed, fine, so be it. But you at least should have given me a damn head’s up with regard to the terms and conditions."

„Would you have believed me?“

„Probably not, but...“

„If you knew, would it have changed your opinion? Wouldn’t you still have traded your life for your sister‘s?“

„Of course not, I still would have done anything to save her.“

„Then I don’t understand your problem now.“, Roman concluded as he studied your face with your anger boiling even more as you hissed: „Are you just playing dumb with me? You don’t understand my problem? You basically took me away from my life, took me away from my family. You didn’t make me aware of it, didn’t give me the chance to adjust to it, didn’t give me the slightest chance to somehow say goodbye to my family. Can you even imagine how they must feel now that I’m suddenly gone as if earth had just sucked me in?! I’m away and they have no clue why. They must be sick of worry just because the god of the underworld decided to be a massive dickhead.“ You talked yourself in fury bit by bit. He crooked an eyebrow at you, wanting to know: „Do you really think that you should talk to me like that? I haven’t made the rules. That’s how it is meant to be. If one soul is supposed to leave, it is my duty to make sure that it arrives here safe and sound. If someone else offers to take that soul’s place, who am I to decline? Besides that, I have asked you whether you really would give your life. You basically had a choice.”

You shook your head angrily as you snapped: “Yes that’s exactly how I should talk to you. Don’t try to play dumb with me. You run this place here, you make the rules. And how kind of you to ask whether I’m serious. I guess that’s at least one more choice than Persephone had, isn’t it?” You could see how his face darkened as he wanted to know: “What did you just say?”

“Oh I bet that you understood me pretty clearly. Are you really that desperate that you have to kidnap people instead of giving them a choice?”, you wanted to know enraged with him responding icy: “You shouldn’t talk about things, you have no idea about.”

“Oh well, I think I know exactly what I am talking about. She may not have traded her soul but you did the same to her like you did to me. You kidnapped her from her mother, brought her to the underworld, where she had to stay for all eternity, just because you had decided that you wanted her. Don’t fucking tell me that this looks like a damn choice. A choice you basically haven’t given me either, even if the circumstances were different. You are a sad example of a god and an even sadder example of a man. I just hope that she had the chance to escape by now.”

Before you could continue he had jumped out off his chair, having moved over to you, where he was towering you, leaning down, his whole body radiating danger while his face was just inches away from yours as he hissed: “I appreciate that you have studied my story into detail but you shouldn’t believe everything you read. It never happened like that and I sure as hell don’t owe you an explanation. I have saved your sister’s life and you should be forever grateful for that. Life is no fun, decisions, that have to be made, are not always easy. You wanted your sister alive, you have to pay the price for that deal. And now you should shut it before I’m dragging you back to Cerberus, offering you as a little snack for him. You’re a guest in my world, so act like one. And now get up so I can show you everything in your new home.” You locked eyes with him, anger and fear battling for dominance as you got up, pushing him away while doing so.

As he tried to regain his balance, you snapped: “I don’t give a fuck who you are. I’m not a guest around here, I’m your hostage. This will never be my home. And I want you to know one thing and you better write that down. I’m not Persephone, I won’t kiss your ass in the end, I won’t accept my fate. And if I have to make your every encounter with me miserable, I will gladly do so. You will regret, that you have brought me here without asking for my consent and you will gladly bring me back to my family, because I can assure you that I’m making it hell for you that you have brought me here. You are a lame excuse of a god and it doesn’t surprise me one bit that your family has damned you to rule over the dead because apparently no mortal could deal with your presence.”

You knew that you were harsh, knew that it wasn’t exactly fair because - apart from taking you to the underworld - he hadn’t been anything but friendly and polite to you, but you couldn’t change it. All of this was way too much. You missed your family, you missed your friends, your job, your life… And being aware of never getting anything of that back, just had the worst of you.

Before he could say a word, you pushed past him, leaving the room as fast as you could, slamming the door behind you. You rushed back to your room, not giving a single fuck about the beauty of the palace you were staying in nor about what secrets the underworld might have to offer to you. Once you reached your room, you slipped in, locking the door behind you, before you threw yourself on the bed, burying your head into the pillow and crying your eyes out once again. It didn’t take long until you heard a severe knocking at your door, followed by Roman’s deep voice: “Y/N, I can understand that all of this overwhelms you, but locking yourself up in that room, doesn’t help one bit. Just get out of there.”

“Just fuck off.”, you yelled with him answering annoyed: “Wow pretty mature. I said it before and I say it again. You are a guest here, start acting like one.” You couldn’t help yourself as you shouted back: “I’m your fucking hostage. Stop twisting the reality. And now leave me the fuck alone and let me somehow get used to the fact, that I have to see your sorry ass for the rest of my miserable life down here.” You were sure that he was standing on the other side of the door, probably thinking what he could say next, but whatever it was, he decided against it, as you heard him stomping away. You tried to take a few deep breaths, tried to somehow regain your composure and most of all, you tried to work on a plan how you could leave, how you could be reunited with your family.

The next days you stuck to your word as you weren’t leaving your room. You were extremely relieved that it had its own bathroom and much to your surprise there was a plate with food in front of your door on a regular basis. Roman had tried to talk to you from time to time but since you ignored him all the time, he seemed to have given up, although you were sure that he was the reason behind the food magically appearing in front of your room.

As days went by you were thinking about your family, missing them terribly but at the same time you noticed how you calmed down, how you were somehow able to accept being where you were for now. You didn’t want to stay and you sure as hell didn’t want to see Roman, but you nevertheless felt how you turned curious, how you wanted to see where you were, wanted to know how the underworld looked like, wanted to see with your own eyes, whether it was indeed the pitch black hell mythology books wanted to make their readers believe.

#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #roman reigns x you #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns story #roman reigns series #angst #roman reigns angst #greek underworld au #greek mythology au

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emospritelet · 6 years ago

Text

Homecoming - chapter 11

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

AO3 link

Five years earlier

The sound of light chatter and background music washed over him, and Ogilvy listened with half an ear, sipping at the glass of wine he had taken from a footman. He was tucked by a marble pillar, watching as the ladies and gentleman wandered past, laughing and chattering about the usual inanities. There would be dancing soon, and he was almost looking forward to being spared from conversation with the other guests. A multitude of lamps sent out a warm light, making diamonds sparkle and eyes gleam and reflecting off the facets of crystal glasses carried on trays by immaculate servants. Lady Ella Deville had always enjoyed parties, and her large London home made an excellent venue in which to host them.

He watched from the sidelines as she drifted past, tall and pale and slender, patting arms and stroking egos and entertaining her guests with wicked jokes and her surprisingly deep laugh. Lady Ella was an excellent hostess, and always made sure to invite him. Even if he was a terrible guest. He had scanned the crowd upon entering, as he always did, but the familiar feeling of disappointment had quickly settled on him like a dark cloud. The milling crowd was made up of ladies and gentlemen, artists and writers, thinkers and philosophers, with a few self-made industrialists such as himself, all gossiping and flirting and drinking too much. Belle was not among the guests.

In his heart he knew that he hadn't really expected her to be there, but Doc insisted that there was always hope, and so he tried to attend as many social occasions as he could, in case the Fates decided to smile on him for a change. The failure to find her was a cause of great anguish for both he and Doc, but it weighed heavier on him, haunting his dreams, stealing his rest with its heavy sense of loss, of hopelessness. He would turn fifty in a few days, with no sign of her, not even a hint of her whereabouts. They had searched in Britain and on the continent, and even journeyed to the Americas in the vain hope of finding her. He had paid eyes and ears in dozens of countries, all reporting back to him at the merest hint of a noblewoman with blue eyes and chestnut hair. All for nothing. It was as though she had fallen off the face of the earth, and after six lifetimes of searching, he was desperately afraid that they would never be reunited.

He tried to tell himself not to lose faith, but every passing year wove another layer into the heavy cloak of despair that wrapped around him. The arrival of Alice four years earlier had helped to lift his spirits, had given him something to concentrate on other than his own misery, but he was well aware that she would grow up and leave eventually. She would find her special someone, and while he wished her to be happy, he dreaded the day that she would go, leaving he and Doc to their too-quiet house and their endless grief.

“Darling, do stop glaring at the guests as though they owe you money.”

Lady Ella’s drawling voice pulled him out of the swamp of self-pity he was wallowing in, and she sashayed nearer, cream silk dress glittering with a multitude of tiny beads, feathery white plumes bobbing atop her perfectly-styled blonde hair. Ropes of diamonds glittered around her neck, and she snapped shut her silk fan and flapped a gloved hand at him.

“Go! Have fun! Talk to someone other than your dear old Professor for a change!”

“I’ll pass, thank you,” he said. “Besides, I’m - ah - enjoying the music.”

“No you’re not,” she said flatly.

“Fine, I’m not,” he grumbled. “Who tuned that cello anyway? It sounds as though he’s playing it with his feet.”

Ella pretended to look affronted, tossing her head a little.

“I have no idea why I bother inviting you to these things,” she huffed. “You always lurk in the corners as though you’d rather be somewhere else. Why do you even come?”

“One never knows when there’ll be someone new in town,” he said, taking a sip of his wine, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Please tell me you’re finally on the lookout for a wife after all these years,” she said. “I can give you some recommendations, if you like. I hear all the gossip and probably know far more dark and delicious secrets than is good for me. I daresay one of my many acquaintances would suit you.”

“I doubt I have the requisite lineage,” he said dryly, and she sniffed, waving a hand.

“Oh, that’s overrated,” she said dismissively. “Take it from someone who married a lord and regrets it constantly.”

“You were already a lady, and your family was as old as your husband’s,” he said. “I have neither title nor family to sweeten the deal.”

“Money bridges many social divides, I find,” she said, with a grin. “And you have plenty of that, darling. There has to be more than one who’d be willing to take you, miserable as you are.”

“Well, thank you for that ringing endorsement, but I don’t need any help in finding a wife.”

“Think about it,” she pressed. “I’m sure young Alice would be pleased to have a mother figure in her life. There are things a father can’t teach a daughter, you know.”

“Perhaps,” he acknowledged. “But nothing that a governess can’t teach her.”

“Assuming you can find one that suits,” she said slyly, and he grunted.

“Yes, alright, so the last one was a bloody disaster,” he grumbled. “I’m well aware. No doubt I’ll find one that doesn’t try to crush her spirit and that Alice doesn’t hate. Eventually.”

“Oh, the one I took on a few months ago has been wonderful,” she said. “Far too young and pretty to be teaching, in my opinion. No doubt she’ll run off and get married at some point, but for the moment she seems happy enough with her books.”

“Really?” He took a sip of his wine. “What’s her name? Perhaps I can entice her to our house to teach Alice.”

She slapped his arm playfully with her fan.

“Don’t you dare try to poach my governess!” she scolded. “Besides, she’s safely tucked out of the way at Furton Grange. If you’re a good boy and socialise, I may bring her to town when Aurora comes out. You can have her then.”

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted,” he remarked dryly.

“And don’t think you can change the subject and that I’ll forget about getting you a wife!” she added, jabbing him with her fan and making him wince. “I won’t have one of my favourite guests moping around the place! Bad for the atmosphere.”

“I thank you for your concern, but I don’t need your help,” he said.

“I beg to differ.”

“No doubt, but I stand by it,” he said. “I assure you, when I see the right woman, I’ll know.”

“Oh, so you do like women, then?” she said, with a grin. “I was beginning to think you were a Decadent. And if you are, you can certainly tell me, you’re among friends in this house.”

He grinned at that.

“No, I’m just - very particular.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you have all my knowledge of polite society at your disposal,” she assured him. “Tales of scandalous impropriety and whispers of looming financial ruin are only a hastily-written letter away.”

His grin widened.

“Rest assured that if I ever decide to show an interest in the degeneracy of the upper classes, you would be the first person I’d ask.”

“Impertinent!”

She tapped his arm with her fan, smirking, and he chuckled. Ella let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes.

“Very well,” she drawled. “I’ll leave you to your lurking. Do at least try to have a good time.”

"I promise."

She wandered off with a sway of her hips, calling out to another guest, and Ogilvy smiled as he watched her go, raising his glass to take a sip of wine. Ella slipped into the crowd, feathers bobbing as she went, and he let out a sigh, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the room wash over him. Perhaps it was time to go home.

“A long time, since last we met.”

A woman’s accented voice made him start, eyes flicking open as he glanced around, and it was as though a cold hand clutched his heart and tugged at him, dragging him swiftly back through time, through countless centuries. With startling clarity, he remembered the fateful day when he had stood by the fire pit of a tribe that was not his own, and had made the choice that was to change his fate and lead him to this moment, bowed down with the weight of ceaseless searching and endless grief. The woman before him looked exactly as she had then, black eyes weighing and measuring, the light in them too old, too knowing for her smooth cheeks. She was taller then he, and slender, the red gown she wore bright against olive skin. Shining black hair was twisted up on her head, and long gold earrings hung from her lobes, tiny diamonds catching the light from the candles. Ogilvy felt his jaw tighten, and he nodded stiffly, in recognition.

“Seer.”

He was almost surprised that he had spoken, the word falling from his lips in barely more than a whisper, scattering in the air like dust. Her full mouth curved in a smile.

“You look older, Spinner.”

“Time tends to have that effect,” he said, his voice cool. “Except on you, it seems. Strange.”

Her smile widened.

“Time plays tricks.”

“Indeed,” he said quietly. “Cruel tricks.”

Her eyes scanned the room, as though searching for someone, and he wondered why she was there. He doubted it was for him. Not for the first time, he wondered what she was.

“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance,” he said, for the benefit of a passing gentleman, who eyed them briefly. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch the name, my Lady.”

Her lips curled upwards, white teeth gleaming, and she dipped a graceful curtsy.

“You may call me Persephone,” she said. Ogilvy’s eyebrows twitched.

“Really?” he said dryly, taking a sip of his drink. “And here I thought that in the winter months you walked a different plain to the rest of us mere mortals.”

“Is that what you are?” she asked, raising a slim brow. “A mere mortal? Somehow I doubt that.”

She spoke the words softly, enunciating the description he had used, r’s rolling off her tongue. It was almost as though she was mocking him, and his mouth flattened.

“Death leaves its mark on me as much as any man,” he said, and she pursed her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered, taking a step forward, and pressing a swift hand to his heart. “Here especially.”

Ogilvy flinched, stepping back from her, and she let her arms fall to her sides, a tiny, sad smile making her eyes gleam.

“Your bond was broken,” she said. “Not completely, but enough. I told the Scholar I could not change that. She wanted to remember you nonetheless. Knowing the pain it would cause. You chose well, Spinner.”

He felt his mouth drop open, his eyes widen.

“You saw her?” he whispered. “Where? When?”

Her mouth twisted, as though she was vexed at having mentioned it, and one hand flicked, a dismissive gesture, casting away something useless.

“Oh, in another life, another time,” she sighed, and he felt his body sag in disappointment.

“So, not this life,” he said wearily. “But - but she knew you? She knew - about us? How?”

“She had to,” said the Seer. “She needed the knowledge, to prepare her future self. To send a message through time, and save us all from the darkness to come.”

“What darkness?” he said sharply, and she smiled.

“A problem for a future life, I think.”

Ogilvy scowled, but let it go. Deal with the issue at hand, man.

“Then - she had the stone?” he asked. “No, no, that can’t be. She would need our stones too, mine and Doc’s. Hers alone would not work. How did she—”

“She needed the knowledge,” repeated the Seer. “And so I gave it to her.”

He took a step forward, his brows lowering as he caught her meaning.

“You - you restored her memories?” he said, his voice a low growl. “I know the pain that causes, the agony of knowing the other is out in the world and not being able to find them. You did that to her?”

“I gave her a choice,” she said sharply, dark eyes flashing. “Just as you did, aeons ago. She chose what little of you she could have. She will always choose you. Would you have her choose another?”

He shook his head, sighing, and gazed down at the rippling surface of his wine, as though it would give him comfort.

“I would have her be happy,” he whispered. “Six lifetimes I’ve searched for her, Seer, and all in vain. Six lives of pain and loss and misery. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all the one I love most.”

The Seer huffed a little, fingers plucking at her skirts.

“It was necessary,” she said, more quietly. “I took no joy from the cruelty of it, I assure you.”

“No,” he said coolly. “I daresay emotion isn’t your strong point.”

“Emotion can be a powerful thing,” she said, ignoring the barb. “But it can also make one reckless. You may rest assured I have no intention of being so. There is too much at stake. You have your own challenges to face, but I must think of the fates of all.”

“Your schemes are no concern of mine,” he said, his voice stiff. “Is there a reason you sought me out, or is this a chance meeting?”

She smiled.

“For us, nothing happens by chance,” she said. “I sense your despair, your weariness. I wished to give you some comfort. What little there is of it.”

He took a step towards her, his heart thudding, hope and fear kindling in his chest.

“Tell me I will find her in this life,” he whispered, and she shook her head.

“She will find you.”

Hope flared, a burst of heat, making his heart pound.

“Truly?” he whispered. “She’ll find us? She’ll come home?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

She smiled briefly, but there was a hint of pity in her eyes that made his heart clench.

“I cannot say,” she admitted. “The board is set. The pieces are not yet in play.”

“A fitting analogy,” he said bitterly. “We are pawns, after all. Set up to be sacrificed as the gods see fit.”

“The gods do not control everything,” she said sharply. “And nor do I See everything. Your Scholar will find you. Take comfort in that, at least.”

“It could be twenty years from now,” he said, with some asperity.

“Perhaps.” She shrugged delicately. “Do you grow tired of waiting for her?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said sharply. “When she’s back with us and in my arms I will thank the gods for it, but please tell me she’ll come home soon!”

“I cannot say,” she repeated. “But she will find you.”

She nodded to him, taking a step back and turning away.

“Wait!” he said urgently. “The stone! Will she have it?”

The Seer paused with her back to him, her shoulders stiff.

“She had the stone when last we met,” she said, her voice carefully neutral.

“And now?”

“I do not See her with the stone,” she said, after a pause. “But who can say?”

He sighed in frustration.

“Then do you know where it is?”

“No,” she said, and glanced back over her shoulder. “But you are tenacious, are you not? Perhaps you will find it. Good luck, Spinner.”

She glided away, skirts rustling as her hips swayed, and he threw back his wine, feeling it burn his throat as it went down. She'll come back to us. She'll come home. One way or another, she'll come home.

#fic: homecoming #ogilvelle fic #rumbelle fic #my fic #ogilvelle #rumbelle

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raphpanda21 · 6 years ago

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It started out with a kiss

It had been a wonderful evening full with food, libations, and merriment. Persephone wasn’t a goddess that was being celebrated at these revelries but Thanatos had assured her that nobody would care since it was a feast being held in honor of himself and his brother Hypnos. The humans couldn’t even see them after all unless they chose to mingle amongst them and should they know of her presence they would most likely be ecstatic anyhow. The more gods the merrier after all! Besides they had both been working hard and deserved to have a little fun.

The festivities had reached a fever pitch amongst the humans and Persephone watched on in fascination her cheeks flushed from indulgence and the heat of the scattered torches. Seated beside her Thanatos sipped from his cup chuckling at the sight of his brother in the guise of a mortal being one of the key figures driving the increased excitement.

“He is never happy until there is an orgy I swear? “

Persephone cheeks flushed even redder at the mention of orgy her attention turned to Thanatos.

“Orgy? But neither of your are fertility gods?”

Thanatos chuckled softly setting aside his cup

“Correct but death is a scary concept for most. Often times when faced with the death the witnesses wish to feel alive. Sex can be a very lively activity after all.”

Persephone hid her growing blush behind the rim of her cup but nodded her agreement.

“I guess that makes sense. It is just shocking that they would do such things so publicly.”

Thanatos laughed briefly drawing the curious gaze of some of his other ethereal guests. Persephone pouted knowing his humor was at her expense.

“I am sorry you are just so adorably sweet sometimes. Not all of them are exhibitionists but sometimes the feelings take hold. Or the alcohol.”

Persephone started to giggle at this last bit Thanatos soft laughter soon joining hers. Persephone fanned herself calming down as she plucked at her robes flapping the material of her veil to try and cool herself.

Thanatos politely looked away as Persephone’s actions made her fairly demure attire anything but. With her shifting of her veil like hood and plucking of her robes far more of her ample cleavage and delicate shoulders and throat were made visible. He knew it was all innocent but he was still a man so better to look away and avoid any Pandora sized temptations. They continued idle conversation for some time Thanatos drinking and eating more as an excuse to not look her way. At the same time Persephone continued to drink both to try and cool herself and to end the growing thirst that remained unsated.

Looking out at the festivities even his brows rose at some of the creative positions being attempted. Glancing at Persephone he was thankful to see she was oblivious instead it seemed fixated on weaving together some of the offering flowers into a crown.

“Hey Princess why don’t we get you home it is getting pretty late.”

She looked up at him with a pout that would have put Helen of Troy to shame. Lifting up the crown of magenta zinnia, coral roses, white camellia, and coriander she placed it atop his head smiling as it settled perfectly above his brow.

“Must we? I haven’t made your brother a crown for his big day yet.”

Glancing at the location of his brother he just sees a mess of muscles and nudity. His brother at that moment was dealing with stamen of a different sort.

“That’s okay he is occupied at the moment I don’t think he will mind.”

Glancing out at the crowd she squints her eyes trying to figure out what she was seeing before flushing as red as a new rose.

“Oh...oh my.”

Thanatos laughed standing up surprised to find he swayed a bit with over indulgence. Using his wings to counter balance he offered a hand down to Persephone which she took most eagerly. With a small pull she is was one her feet giggling as she pitched forward falling into him.

“Sorry I think perhaps I may have overdone it”

“Well it is a celebration so I won’t tell on you this time”

He winked playfully at Persephone who still clung to him her flushed face peering up at him from the halo of her veil.

“So does that mean you won’t judge me for suggesting we go skinny dipping to cool off?”

Thanatos laughed thinking she had to be joking but seeing the start of her pout he quickly stopped laughing.

“Are you being serious?”

“Of course I am! It is just so hot and I love to swim! “

“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

She leans back a little blinking at him with genuine confusion

“What is inappropriate about swimming together. It is just swimming. Hermes and I used to do it all the time. I guess I can go by myself I just thought it would be fun.”

Thanatos groaned internally. He was going to have a stern conversation with Hermes later. Still she seemed set on going for a swim and he was worried that in her current state she might attempt it on her own with some less than savory situations. Gaia give him strength.

“Alright, you swayed me we can go. I believe there is a small pond not that far from here.”

Persephone let out a squeal of excitement throwing her arms around his neck to hug him in thanks but in both of their current states of intoxication it threw them off balance and they tumbled back to ground. The next thing Thanatos realized was Persephone’s body was soft in all the right places made even more obvious to him through the thin material of his robes and his bare chest. Softer than her body were her lips which petals themselves must have envied.

Persephone eyes widened as she felt them losing balance. She closed her eyes tightly bracing herself from the impact letting out a small ooof sound at impact that was quickly muffled by the a set of firm but surprisingly pleasant lips over hers.

At the same time Hades had just arrived having belatedly seen the reminder on his phones calendar of his employees festive day. It was late but hopefully he could make an appearance give his well wishes to the brothers and go about his evening. Coming upon the festivities he was surprised to see Hypnos had gotten things to an orgy level of fervor so early. He sometimes seriously questioned if Hypnos abilities were more carnal then what he claimed them to be. Looking for Thanatos he stopped in surprise seeing him nestled between the thighs of some maiden whose face remained hidden but judging by the arms around Thanatos neck the attentions were not unwanted.

At the sound of s groan from Thanatos Hades blushed and quickly retreated to the shadows.

Thanatos groaned in a mixture of need, pain and acceptance as he pulled back from Persephone’s lips holding his body up on his elbows.

“I am sorry. Are you alright ?”

Persephone nodded her head a pretty flush dancing across her nose and cheeks tempting Thanatos like the call of a siren to sink back into her softness once more.

“Never better. You have nothing to be sorry for. That was a very lovely kiss. I never knew a kiss could feel like this. I never wanted to be kissed before but I think I understand now what the nymphs were on about.”

Absently her finger traced over her lips as a dazed pleasure seems to have settled over her senses. Seeing this Thanatos felt a certain part of himself throb to life even more. A cold dip in a pond was called for stat. At that moment was very thankful to be in his robes and not in his usual slacks. Moving back to his feet he helped her up taking her hand in his own and quickly leading the way.

“Nymphs are not the type a flower like you should take advice from. Let’s get to that dipping before we take another tumble.”

Seeing the couple depart Hades was left in a spot. If he failed to give his regards it would be a major breech in polite protocol. Still he didn’t want to throw a wrench into Thanatos’ possible romantic liaisons. Hesitating for a few minutes he finally decides to follow and see if he might catch up to them before anything to intimate occurred. Luck it seemed wasn’t with him as he quickly came across a trail of the females discarded clothing and finally what appeared to be Thanatos’ robes. Hearing the soft sound of a females laughter ahead Hades slipped into the shadows of the forest before peering around a tree.

The couple were playing splashing water back and forth at one another perfectly harmless fun except for the fact they were both nude. Hades had resolved to leave and send a gift in acknowledgment later when the female companion turned and he froze in shock as the mystery woman was revealed.

“K-Kore?”

Hades felt a cold vice of ice close around his heart causing him to exhale in shock at the scene before him. No? He must be mistaken. The girl just looked like her surely. The fates had never been kind and they didn’t deviate this day as Thanatos removed any doubt with regards to his companions identity.

“Persephone! You better run. I am going to dunk you for that cheap shot!”

Persephone squeaked in mock terror swimming away as Thanatos playfully gave chase.

Hades had seen enough and quickly slipped back to the path pausing as his vision fell back to discarded clothing noticing the crown of flowers laid beside them. Moving over to it he bent to pick it up gently cradling it as he studied it.He knew a fair bit of flower language from the time he had spent with Hestia. Magenta Zinnia for lasting affection, coral roses for passion and desire, white camellias for adoration and the small blooms of coriander weaved through out for the lust he had witnessed earlier between them. His anger and hurt getting the better of them he crushed the delicate creation between his hands dropping it to the ground.

Why? Why did he always loose his chance. Why was he never the one that was chosen? Eyes turning red he glared back towards the sound of the couple. Thanatos would pay dearly. Just as anger and bitterness burned through Hade’s heart so too would Thanatos suffer for the happiness he had . Turning away he began the journey back to the office determined to create several pie charts to repay Thanatos for the pain he had unknowingly wrought upon him.

#greekgods #inspired #loreolympus #drabble #persephone #thanatos #hades #facebookmarchchallenge #day2 kiss #day10 anger #springflingchallenege #maybe #oneshot #lore olympus

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gatesofember · 6 years ago

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The Whitethorn Hearth: Chapter 1

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 9

Rating: M | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: The long-awaited celebration of Prince Nico’s wedding to William of Solace has finally arrived. Between all the wedding duties, keeping Octavian as far from the royal family as possible, and dealing with the occasional fiasco, the grooms still manage to find plenty of time to themselves. But as they enter the new chapter of their life, they will encounter new challenges. Will must say goodbye to his family and move to a new home. Nico remains unpopular among his own people and sometimes still struggles to express himself to his husband-to-be. And what will happen between Nico’s guard and the pretty maid who works for Will’s family?

The Palatium de Divitae looked more beautiful than Will had ever seen it before. The Hall of Gold had been newly polished, the painted ceilings restored to their former glory, and the morning sun streamed through the windows to bathe the marble halls in bright light. Will imagined that he was seeing the palace as it was meant to be viewed — the way it must have looked in the days of Pluto’s wealth, before Pluto’s economic downfall. Even the court and the servants seemed more alive than usual. Jules-Albert was impassive as ever, but Will could have sworn that he’d witnessed King Hades smile.

It was strange to see his family in the Palatium de Divitae. Will had visited Nico enough times to feel comfortable there, but watching his family interact with Nico’s made him nervous. They had been in Pluto for a few weeks already to assist with preparations; as a part of Will’s dowry, Apollo had offered to pay for most of the expenses of the wedding. Nearly every day, Will, Apollo, and Daphne had met with Nico, Hades, Persephone, and Reyna to discuss the wedding or something to do with Will’s dowry, the cattle in particular. To Will’s relief, his family hadn’t embarrassed him much so far. Daphne had been on her best behavior. Will hadn’t worried much about Austin, as Austin was generally quiet around strangers. Had Hyacinth been there, Apollo probably would have been too busy ogling over him to woo anyone else, but as it was, he seemed too gloomy missing him to do much more than half-heartedly flirt with one or two maids and a stableboy. Surprisingly, even Lou Ellen and Will’s older brothers hadn’t caused much trouble, but that was probably due to the fact that they were usually too busy trying to control Octavian.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, Will would have preferred it if Octavian hadn’t come to the wedding at all. In fact, Will’s family had been plotting how to leave Octavian behind. Their original plan had been to leave Diana while Octavian was away at his own private estate, but Octavian had foiled that idea when he decided to visit the Sun Palace unannounced just before they left. In a desperate attempt to get rid of him, Apollo had even offered to leave Octavian in charge of the Sun Palace while they were away. Obviously, Octavian wouldn’t have really been in charge — that privilege had been granted to Hyacinth, who was far more responsible and trustworthy — but Apollo had hoped that the bribe would be enough to get rid of him. Although Octavian had considered the proposal, even that had failed. To the entire family’s dismay, they were soon on the road to Pluto with Octavian and no Hyacinth.

Surprisingly, however, Octavian hadn’t caused much trouble since their arrival in Divitia. Will’s family had done everything in their power to keep him under control. They had maintained a strict schedule for Octavian Duty to ensure that he had no contact with any members of the Plutonian Royal Family — particularly not Will’s husband-to-be. Octavian had expressed his interest in the Prince on multiple occasions and the family had agreed to keep him away from Nico at all costs. Will has even privately informed Reyna of the situation and enlisted her assistance. In one attempt to dodge an escaped Octavian, Will had impulsively pulled Nico through the first door he could find, which happened to be a storage room. Fortunately, Nico hadn’t minded, but he misinterpreted Will’s intentions and wasted no time engaging him in a heated session of kisses. In the end, they successfully avoided Octavian, so Will found that turn of events to be both pleasant and effective.

However, Will’s family had been so preoccupied with keeping Octavian under control that they forgot to monitor Kayla. Hazel, although a few years older than Kayla, had been excited to meet another girl somewhat close to her age and immediately tried to be her friend. The two had gotten along well until one afternoon when Chiron left them unattended for a half hour, only to return to discover that Kayla had somehow managed to destroy three of Hazel’s dolls. Kayla could not comprehend what she had done wrong, but after much intervention, Chiron eventually managed to force a polite but insincere apology out of her. Although Hazel and Kayla had tentatively tried to continue their friendship, Hazel no longer allowed Kayla to touch her belongings and appeared to prefer spending time in her music room with Austin.

Altogether, Will’s family had been reasonably well-behaved. True, there had been a few mishaps, and yes, Will would have gladly traded Octavian for Hyacinth, but in the end, Will doubted anything could have taken away from his elation. After all, it was the first day of his wedding celebrations and Will was marrying someone he loved.

Will walked briskly down the corridor with a song in his head and a spring in his step. Nico had invited him to have breakfast in his chambers that morning before they left to visit the temples. His new chambers, that was — Nico had shared with his sister before, but had moved into a new set of apartments in the weeks leading up to the wedding. After they married, Will and Nico would share that suite of apartments and live in adjacent bedrooms.

Will found Nico’s guard standing at the entrance to Nico’s chambers, looking as displeased as usual. “Good morning, Hedge,” he said brightly.

Hedge scowled at him and opened the door without answering. His sourness did nothing to dampen Will’s mood, especially not when Nico suddenly flew through the doorway into his arms, nearly knocking Will off his feet. Hedge grumbled unhappily to himself when Nico kissed Will, but they ignored him in favor of kissing a few more times.

Reyna drew their attention when she sighed audibly from inside the room. “You’re acting like you haven’t seen each other for months, Your Highness,” she said. “You have been separated for ten hours at most.”

“Hush, Reyna, don’t spoil my wedding,” Nico said, but he took Will’s hand to lead him inside. Hedge joined them inside the room like he wanted to keep an eye on Will’s behavior. Will wasn’t concerned. Over time, Hedge had proved to be relatively harmless. Although Hedge would never admit to it, Will even suspected that Hedge was starting to like him.

Hedge contented himself to glaring at Will for a while, but he voiced his disapproval shortly after Will and Nico were served breakfast. “I still think the wedding ought to be postponed,” Hedge said. “His Highness is far too young to marry.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “I am of age, am I not?”

“You are still too young!”

Nico hummed and turned to look at Will with a spark of heat in his eyes that made Will blush. “Perhaps so, but I’m far too impatient to wait any longer.”

Reyna clucked her tongue. “The entire Plutonian Court is too impatient to wait any longer. Hedge may be the only person in the palace who isn’t desperate to see you married.”

Nico’s expression turned sheepish. He cleared his throat like he was trying to get Reyna’s attention, but she ignored him.

“I, for one, am anxious to see you married because it means I will no longer have to chaperone you,” she said. “The rest of the Plutonian Court wants you to secure this marriage out of fear that your engagement will end the same way as all your other attempts at courting.”

“Those suitors would have all made terrible partners,” Hedge interrupted. “None of them were good enough for His Highness.”

Once again, Nico cleared his throat, this time with a pointed glare in Reyna’s direction. Will had known that Nico had seen other marriage candidates before their engagement, but they hadn’t discussed their previous suitors. Judging from Nico’s sudden shift in demeanor, there appeared to be an interesting story. “What is this about His Highness’ other attempts at courting?” Will asked.

“Every marriage interview His Highness had before yours ended in disaster. He once told a suitor that he had the face of a toad and the voice of a squealing hog.”

“Reyna!” Nico objected, but Will laughed.

The lines of Reyna’s face remained as cold and hard as steel. “Your Highness, if you are to marry this man, it would be unwise to keep secrets from him,” she said.

“Ridiculous. You just enjoy embarrassing me!”

Reyna nodded sagely. “Yes. I never denied that. As I was saying, Lord William, His Highness was awful. Another time, he—”

“That was a long time ago,” Nico interrupted.

“Not so long ago,” said Reyna. “But you, Lord William, were the first suitor that lasted longer than a few days.”

Will had heard about Nico’s poor reputation, but he’d never witnessed anything to support it. Nico had been quiet at first, perhaps even cold, and his temper could be short, but he was never cruel. He had certainly never done anything akin to comparing Will’s face to that of a toad.

“He was terrified to meet you,” Reyna said. “He begged me not to leave the two of you alone together.”

Will frowned. Terrified? If anything, Nico had seemed indifferent at the time. “What did he think I would do?”

“I wasn’t afraid of you doing something; I was afraid that I would,” Nico snapped. “As Reyna has so plainly described, I had a talent for insulting suitors. I didn’t...I don’t know how to talk to people. Reyna stops me from doing things I’ll regret later.”

“I try, at least,” Reyna interjected.

“I wanted it to go well. I needed to find a husband, I was afraid of disappointing the Matestra, and you...you were....” Nico stopped and turned to Reyna like he needed her help.

“Only a few days after meeting you, he told me that he found you ‘tolerable,’ or something of that nature,” Reyna said. “It was the kindest thing he’d ever said about a suitor.”

Will started to laugh, but then Nico said, “You smiled at me. No one had ever smiled at me the way you did.”

Will’s amusement melted into a familiar surge of affection and he reached out to cup Nico’s cheek in his hand. “Of course I smiled,” he said. “You were my first love.” Nico raised his eyes and smiled, and there was a moment of blissful silence before—

“You have been after the Prince’s virtue since he was a child?” Hedge roared.

“Oh, calm down, Hedge,” Nico said. “Will was a child, too.”

“Then he has been trouble his entire life!”

Will sighed. Hedge had voiced his objections so frequently since Will’s arrival in Divitia that arguments about Will’s suitability were nearly a daily routine. Reyna had told Will not to take it to heart, but Hedge’s rants were becoming annoying.

“Will has been the perfect gentleman,” Nico said impatiently. “I doubt he has ever caused anyone trouble.”

“I think Hedge is only reacting this way because he doesn’t like seeing you grow up so quickly,” Reyna said.

“Preposterous!” Hedge objected.

“Deny it all you want, Hedge; we know it’s true,” said Reyna. She didn’t bother to answer when he sputtered indignantly. “But enough jokes. Let’s discuss today’s schedule.” She shuffled through her papers and started to read off the day’s tasks — libations in the temples, honoring their ancestors at the royal mausoleum, that evening’s banquet and who they were going to greet, and the lighting of the wedding hearth....

Beside Will, Nico sighed. “This is already so tiresome,” he mumbled so that only Will could hear. Will gave him a reassuring smile and kissed his cheek to comfort him.

A moment later, when Reyna finally noticed they were no longer listening, she looked up and found them staring at each other and sitting so closely that they were practically glued together, their fingers linked while Nico played with Will’s hair. “Pay attention,” she ordered sharply. Will tore his eyes away from Nico’s and they listened to her obediently for awhile, but then Nico’s arm snaked around his shoulders and Will found himself distracted once more.

* * *

Nico and Will had poured offerings of grain and honey at the altar dedicated to Gaea, the earth mother, giver of gifts and patron of Pluto. At the temple of Aeon, the god of eternity, they had given libations of grain and wine as they prayed for longevity, a lasting bond, and for the blessings of the Morai in his train.

Nico was no stranger to such rituals. As Pluto’s prince, he was expected to give regular offerings to the gods to pray for the protection and wellbeing of his people. So why was it that he felt so feverish? Why was his gut churning and tying itself in knots? Why did hands and voice shake as he poured the offerings and recited the hymns? Will looked concerned, but did not draw attention in front of the couriers who had followed them to the temples bearing the supplies needed for libations.

Nico couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so nervous — not even the worry prior his wedding interview or the restless excitement before his first kiss could compare. His night had been nearly sleepless and he’d felt jittery since that morning. He wasn’t afraid, exactly, but all his anticipation and eagerness had built up inside him until his body was overflowing with tension.

After paying respects to the gods, they returned to the palace grounds to perform the ceremony for honoring Nico’s ancestors. The royal mausoleum was almost entirely black from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. A round stone altar sat at the middle of the entrance room, and in its center was a deep earthen pit where libations in honor of the dead were poured. Tradition dictated that offerings to the dead were given to the earth so that the earth mother’s servants would bring the gifts to Erebos. The surrounding walls were lined with the names of the venerated dead engraved on golden plates. Something about the tomb — the way sound vibrated off the marble walls and floors, the cool air, the dark atmosphere, or maybe a sense of reverence — made one feel that they had to be quiet.

While the servants arranged a the offerings on the altar, Nico examined the golden plates on the walls. His eyes danced over the names of ancient kings and queens, honored members of the court, and beloved members of the royal family. He had memorized their names and their stories — the prince who had been killed at the hand of a Scatinavian invader, the queen who had been lost in childbirth and her stillborn baby. Plutons revered their dead even more than the other Romanus. Nico felt he owed it to his ancestors to remember them.

Finally, Nico stopped in front of Bianca’s name. He waited for the servants to light the incense and leave Nico and Will to complete the ceremony alone before he reached out to touch her nameplate. Nico had always felt uncomfortable knowing that her body had not been cremated and her ashes were not housed in the mausoleum. Her remains ought to be among those of the rest of the royal family, but instead, her body had been buried in a mass grave of plague victims outside of Venadica. He understood why, of course; in the days of the Scarlet Delirium, hundreds of Plutons had died every day. The healers feared the disease could become airborne if the bodies were burned, or would infest the crops or water supply if they were buried to close to towns or farms. The safest way to dispose of the bodies, they had concluded, was to bury them far away. There had been proper burial rites, but Bianca’s body could not be returned to the royal family for fear of it bringing the disease back into the palace.

Nico heard Will’s footsteps approach and stop just behind him. Will whispered, “Your voice can still reach her.”

“I can only hope,” Nico answered. “But even if it doesn’t....”

While in Venadica that summer, Nico and Will had gone to the monument honoring the victims of the Scarlet Delirium who had died under the care of the healers there. It was outside the city on a hill marking the location of the mass graves. Even though over a decade had passed, the grass still hadn’t grown back properly. There, Nico and Will had performed the ritual ceremony to the dead and had asked Bianca to bless their marriage. Even if Bianca could not hear them from Divitia, she had heard them then.

Will fixed a stray lock of Nico’s hair, then ran his knuckles over Nico’s cheekbones. The touch soothed Nico and the knots in his stomach loosened. “I prayed to my grandmother at the family tomb before I left Diana,” Will said. “I asked for her blessing, too.”

Nico nodded. He was glad; he didn’t like that he and Will wouldn’t be able to visit Will’s ancestors before their wedding, but knowing that Will had gone on his own calmed him.

Nico’s fingers slid to the name beside Bianca’s. “Maria,” he read. “She was my governess. I have told you about her.”

“She must have been very loved by the royal family to have earned a place in your mausoleum.”

Persephone had always assured Nico that Maria had been dear to them, but Nico had never spoken to Hades about Maria. They danced around the topic like her name was taboo. Once, it had infuriated Nico, but over time, as Nico’s anger had cooled, he had grown to assume that Hades simply had a difficult time talking about it.

Still, Nico felt uncertain. Did Bianda know that Lady Maria had been their birth mother? Had she discovered the family secret in Erebos? And what about Nico’s ancestors? Did they approve Maria? Did they approve of Nico, her bastard son? Persephone had said that she and Hades considered Maria family, but did Nico’s ancestors?

“Yes,” Nico said anyway. “Lady Maria was special.” He let his fingers slip away from the monument and turned to face Will. “We should continue with the ceremony,” he said, gesturing towards the altar. Silently, Will took the shallow bowl for the libations and nodded for Nico to proceed.

Nico took the wine first and poured it into the bowl. “I call upon my ancestors, who rest in sacred slumber in Erebos,” he began. His voice was shaking again. When he glanced up and his eyes met Will’s, Will smiled reassuringly and soothed Nico’s nerves.

Nico took a deep breath and set aside the wine before reaching for the honey. He cleared his throat and the sound reverberated from the marble walls and floors, booming loudly back in Nico’s ears. As he drizzled the honey into the wine-filled bowl, he said, “We offer these gifts in your honor and pray that you accept our marriage.” Nico placed the honey’s vase back on the altar and took the milk. The offerings turned cloudy and pink as Nico poured the milk into the bowl. “Wise ancestors, we ask you to honor your descendants with your guidance. Grant us your blessings and watch over us as we enter our marriage. Help us to be patient and loyal, to support and comfort one another.” When he was done, Nico set aside the milk and held the bowl with Will.

The ritual next called for a respectful silence. Nico offered a few unspoken words to Bianca and Maria, asking for their approval and guidance specifically. Although not honored at the royal mausoleum, he prayed to Will’s ancestors and hoped they would hear his promise to care for Will. When Nico looked up, Will’s eyes were closed. A few rays of the afternoon sun illuminated his features from where they streamed in through the door, and candlelight danced across the lines of his face. Nico wondered what he was thinking about. How could Will look so calm?

Finally, Will opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw Nico watching him and nodded to signal that he was ready. Carefully, they lifted the bowl over the altar and poured the contents into the pit in the center. When it was empty, they covered the offerings with soil to be taken to the underworld.

“It’s done,” Nico said, stepping back from the altar. His hands were caked with earth and the sleeves of his coat were stained, but a sense of relief washed over him. He always felt more calm after giving libations to the dead, as though he had left his worries in the hands of his ancestors to take care of for him.

Will offered Nico his arm. “Shall we, Your Highness?”

Nico smiled. “I’m going to ruin your coat,” he said, holding up his dirty hands.

“We planned to change before the evening’s celebration anyway,” Will reminded. “What’s the harm?”

Nico hummed. “True,” he admitted, and he took Will’s arm.

“Now, then,” Will said as he led Nico back outside. “It appears we have time before we must make our appearances this afternoon. What do you think of a walk?”

“I think a walk sounds wonderful,” Nico said.

The asphodel meadows were planted just outside the royal mausoleum, so Nico pointed toward them and steered Will in their direction. “The asphodel meadow was planted in memory of the victims of the Scarlet Delirium, you know,” Nico said.

“Yes, I know,” Will said. “But you’ve never brought me here before.”

“I’ve never liked it.” The asphodel meadow may have been planted to honor Bianca, but Nico hated it. He sometimes walked through hoping that it would make him feel close to Bianca, but it had never worked. Asphodel was not a pretty flower. It had an awkward, broken shape, was as lifelessly pale as a corpse, and in Nico’s opinion, it reeked of death. It did not seem like a fitting flower to plant in memory of Bianca, who had been kind, beautiful, and loved by all. But according to Romanus culture, asphodel was the flower of immortality, symbolising that the memories of loved ones would last forever. Persephone said asphodel was thought to be immortal because it seemed capable of surviving in any condition, even in times of drought, and spread so quickly that it was sometimes considered a weed. In fact, Persephone and the gardeners had a difficult time keeping the asphodel confined. The wind sometimes spread seeds into other parts of the grounds and it wasn’t uncommon to see asphodel sprouting in places it didn’t belong. Sometimes, Persephone would even stop during her walks to pull asphodel buds that she noticed among her flowers, dirtying her hands and sullying her dresses in the process. Once when Nico was feeling particularly spiteful, he had accused her of picking the asphodel to avoid thinking about Bianca. Persephone had calmly explained that asphodel was invasive and could damage the other plants, but had also admitted, “The asphodel meadow was planted after Bianca died. It only reminds me of losing her. I would rather be surrounded by things that remind me of when Bianca was alive, like the flowers she loved and the gardens where she liked to play with you.”

Their shoes crunched over the gravel paths as Nico led Will to the center of the meadows, where a black marble fountain stood, depicting two figures — Thanatos, the god of death, and Bianca.

Nico recalled the first time he had visited the asphodel meadows, when Hazel had dragged him along to show him the fountain. He remembered being afraid when he looked up into the indifferent face of Thanatos. His huge wingspan and his looming presence had made Nico want to cower away. Nico had immediately known that the girl was supposed to be Bianca, but he thought that she looked nothing like Bianca at all. She was dressed in the flowing clothes of the ancients and something about her appearance was cold. But even though he had thought she was a poor imitation of Bianca, Nico remembered feeling angry and scared to see Thanatos’ outstretched hand reaching for the girl like he meant to steal her away.

Hazel, still only a few years old at the time, had looked at Nico proudly and said, “That is my sister, Bianca.” It had infuriated Nico. How dare that girl speak of Bianca like she knew her? How dare that contaminated, illegitimate stranger call Bianca her sister?

Nico had exploded, telling Hazel that she was not Bianca’s sister and that she had no right to even say Bianca’s name. He had immediately regretted it when Hazel started to cry, but he hadn’t known how to apologize until he asked Persephone to help him.

“Are you alright?” Nico heard Will ask.

Nico blinked away the memories and looked back at Will. “Just lost in thought,” he answered.

“About the late princess?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Nico replied. “And Hazel. Hazel and I...we didn’t get along at first. When I came back from the countryside and suddenly had a new sister, I wasn’t pleased. I didn’t want a new sister. I was angry and sometimes I took that out on her. I wish I hadn’t done that.”

Nico looked back up into Thanatos’ face. Now that he was older, Nico thought the statue looked different. He looked calm rather than aloof. His open wings, rather than appearing ominous, looked protective, like he was shielding Bianca. His outstretched hand was offering to guide Bianca, not trying to steal her. He even looked younger, close to Nico’s age, and he seemed gentle and trustworthy. Nico no longer felt afraid of him.

Nico released Will’s arm and dipped his dirt-covered hands in the water to clean them, then gestured for Will to do the same. “Sit with me,” he said when their hands were clean. He sat on the edge of the fountain and patted the space beside him. “We still have time before we’re needed.”

“And what did you plan to do with that time, Your Highness?” Will asked, but the glint in his eye said that he knew exactly what Nico wanted to do.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” Nico said, pretending to be displeased.

He didn’t fool Will. “Would you like a kiss, Your Highness?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I told you — don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

Will laughed softly and slipped his arm around Nico’s waist. “How silly of me,” he said. “I know you don’t want a kiss. You want several.”

Will tipped Nico back so far that Nico grabbed onto Will’s neck, fearing that he’d fall into the fountain. He kissed Nico loudly and sloppily, tickling Nico’s lips and making him laugh. Then he pulled Nico close and kissed him softly, kindly, and innocently, and then he touched Nico’s hair and kissed him seriously.

Their kisses had turned out that way too often lately — with Nico wanting to climb into Will’s lap or to pull Will into his. Their bodies ended up being too close, their hearts beat too fast, and Nico felt dangerously hot. Too often, Will had pulled back, just like he was then, to remind Nico to slow down.

“We only have to wait another day,” Will said, stroking his knuckles along Nico’s neck. “We don’t need to rush.”

Nico shivered. Will’s gentle reminders only made it harder on him. He suspected Will knew it, too — ever since Will had started to become aware of exactly how attracted to him Nico felt, he had started to make a hobby of teasing him. Nico wasn’t sure if he could have survived it had Will not assured him that he wanted him, too.

“I want everything with you,” Will had said, again and again.

Nico sighed and slumped against Will’s shoulder in defeat. “One more day,” he whispered.

“One more day,” Will replied.

* * *

Will wore dark blue that night, which did nothing to help Nico’s self-control. The pastel colors popular in Jupiter and Neptune dominated the majority of Will’s wardrobe, but Nico always found himself weak at the knees when Will opted for darker clothes. Perhaps Nico’s preference for Pluto’s darker fashion was to blame, but something about the way it looked against Will’s golden coloring made him seem even more irresistible to Nico.

They had changed into their evening attire and entered the Hall of Gold with the royal family to greet the guests as they arrived. Before long, their names and faces started to blur together. The Palatium de Divitae hadn’t seen such a celebration since before Bianca’s passing and Nico’s ability to host was sorely out of practice.

Nico didn’t know how he could have managed it without Will. When they greeted the Duchess of Trivia, Will, who had met her at Lee and Lou Ellen’s wedding, kindly said that he was delighted to see her again and asked about her favorite polecat. After Hecate was Hephaestus, the Duke of Vulcan. Will told Nico privately that Hephaestus had once been a consor and major patron of inventions in Venadica, but had stopped visiting when he inherited the duchy about a year before Will was born. Will even dealt with Princes Percy and Jason when they tried to engage Nico in an unwanted conversation. They met a few other major landowners and minor nobles, and several faces later, Nico was beginning to wonder how Will knew the Plutonian nobles better than he did. He met the crowds with the effortless grace of the perfect host, greeting everyone by name and inquiring after the health of their families. He was charming and didn’t stay with one guest for too long or too short. It was like he belonged in the Palatium de Divitae.

All was going well until Will put his lips close to Nico’s ear and whispered, “That’s the son of the Duke of Somnus. His father funds my Somnium research. I like Clovis.”

Nico recalled hearing the name before, but couldn’t remember where until he followed Will’s gaze and saw him.

“Oh, gods,” Nico murmured under his breath, but Will didn’t hear him.

There had to be somewhere Nico could run. Surely he could distract Will and leave his parents to greet the next few guests. After the conversation they’d had that morning, Nico didn’t think he could handle the embarrassment of meeting one of his failed suitors.

But Nico blinked, and suddenly Clovis was there in front of them. Will started to make the introductions, but apparently Nico’s expression made it apparent that something wasn’t right. “Have you met?” he asked.

Nico cleared his throat uncomfortably. “It has been a long time,” he said.

Will looked between them and suddenly a look of understanding passed over his expression. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, I see.” Lowering his voice, he asked, “Did you call him a toad?”

Clovis yawned. “I think he called me a cow, actually.”

Nico felt the blood drain from his face. Will raised an eyebrow. “Your Highness?”

“I...it was a long time ago!” Nico insisted. “I was only fifteen—”

“That is no excuse for calling someone a cow.”

Nico glared back, but didn’t last long before his resolve crumbled. “Alright, I apologize,” Nico said. “That was rude. I should not have called you a cow.”

“It’s alright,” Clovis said glumly. “I’ve heard worse.”

Will frowned at Nico in disappointment. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“I apologized! What more do you want from me?”

Will just shook his head before turning back to Clovis. “I do not think you are a cow.”

Clovis blinked like he was trying not to fall asleep. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“But I think you should go sit down before you fall over,” Will added.

Clovis’ head bobbed up and down a few times. Nico wasn’t sure if he was nodding in agreement or nodding off to sleep, but Will called one of the servants to escort Clovis to a table anyway. Once he was taken care of, Will turned to frown at Nico again.

“Can we just forget this ever happened?” Nico asked. When Will raised an eyebrow, Nico sighed in defeat. “You’re going to tease me about this later, aren’t you?”

“I might,” Will admitted.

“Pardon me, Your Highness,” interrupted a voice. “I wanted to give my congratulations to the grooms.”

Nico looked up in surprise. His parents had taken over the greetings while Nico and Will were busy bickering, so he hadn’t noticed another guest approaching them. He didn’t recognize the man at first, but then Will lit up and said, “Cecil! I haven’t seen you for at least a year!”

Oh, gods, Nico thought. Not again. He would rather spend the entire evening with Percy and Jason than....

“Your Highness, I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine,” Will started. “This is Cecil. He’s quite a successful merchant and he recently inherited a county in southern Angelus.”

“Actually, we’ve already met,” Cecil said, smirking deviously at Nico. Nico wanted to take Will and run.

“Oh,” said Will, looking between them. “Oh, no. Another spurned suitor, Your Highness?”

“Will, listen,” Nico said frantically. “I promise he is not the one I called a toad.”

“I am not the one he called a toad,” Cecil confirmed. “That would have been my husband. He’ll be along shortly.”

Nico felt like he was going to be sick.

“If I recall the story correctly, His Highness also called my husband a pig,” Cecil went on, still smiling with a spark of animosity in his eyes.

“I...I...uh....”

“It was a hog, not a pig,” said another voice, and then a burly man appeared at Cecil’s side. A burly man who looked ridiculously toad-like.

Nico was definitely going to be sick.

“There you are, darling,” Cecil said, linking their arms proudly. “Will, I’d like you to meet my husband, Ellis. We married a few months ago. We had quite the laugh when we discovered that both of us attempted to court His Highness.”

Nico tugged on Will’s sleeve urgently, but Will either didn’t understand or didn’t care. “Now that I think about it, you compared me to a dog after we went hunting during our marriage consultation,” Will said. “You seem to have a habit of likening your suitors to animals, Your Highness.”

“I—that—I compared you to Asterion!” Nico stammered. When he made the comparison, he had been attempting to encourage Will after his failure during the hunt. At the time, Nico had worried that he’d said something wrong and insulted Will, but Will hadn’t seemed upset. Had it really bothered Will after all? “I didn’t mean...it’s...Will, listen, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” said Will. “Apologize to them.”

Nico’s jaw dropped. Apologizing to Clovis was one thing, but to these people? They had teased him! “Absolutely not!”

“Your Highness.”

“I will do no such thing!”

“I’m disappointed in you.”

“What! I...you can’t just...that’s not...gods, fine!” Nico glared pointedly at Ellis. “I apologize for calling you a toad.”

“And a hog,” Will reminded.

“And a hog.” He turned his glare to Cecil. “And I apologize for calling you a ferret.”

“Weasel, actually,” Cecil corrected.

“Weasel!”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” said Will. “Was that really so difficult?”

“Do not test my patience, William,” Nico growled.

“You did very well.”

“Don’t patronize me! Gods, Will, you...you...!” At a loss for words, Nico broke off with an angry sound. “I’m finished here,” he announced, then he spun on his heel and stormed away before his parents noticed him leaving.

He heard laughter behind him, which only infuriated him further. How dare Will tease him that way? He ought to know very well that Nico did not like being reminded of the embarrassing fiascos he had gone through before finding Will.

Nico regretted losing his temper shortly after he stormed away from Will and his ex-suitors. He was still furious with Will for teasing him — well, not quite furious; he couldn’t bring himself be furious with Will — but he knew he’d acted childishly. What really made him regret leaving Will behind, however, was that he was almost immediately accosted by Princes Percy and Jason. They were admittedly more tolerable than Nico’s ex-suitors, but Nico would have preferred not to interact with them at all, or at least not on his own.

Percy and Jason were lacking partners, as well, so they invited him to drink with them. Apparently Percy’s wife had run off to dance with Jason’s fiancée. Nico recalled hearing a rumor that Jason’s fiancée was also his mistress. He wasn’t sure whether it was true or not, but their engagement did seem suspiciously abrupt. Nico certainly would never have caused such a scandal, even if he would have enjoyed having Will as a courtesan....

Nico shook his head and quickly buried that thought as inappropriate and offensive.

Nico tried to refuse their invitation, but they dragged him along anyway and he ended up sipping wine with the princes, searching for a way to escape and doing his best to ignore the conversation. Much to his horror, Percy and Jason somehow managed to invite themselves to his bathing ceremony the next morning.

“And then we’ll attend Jason’s bathing ceremony when he gets married!” Percy said with delight. Jason agreed enthusiastically.

“Absolutely not,” Nico said.

Jason looked heartbroken. “You won’t? But I want you to be there.” Nico tried to avert his gaze. Jason’s eyes were bright, blue, and something about his pitiful expression and the lighting in the room made them look soft and very much like Will’s.

“I...that’s....” Nico started, trying to appear indignant. He failed. “Very well,” he grumbled. “I’ll attend your bathing ceremony.”

Jason’s expression immediately brightened and his eyes went back to being piercing, electric, and very much not-Will’s. Nico tried to take his promise back, but protesting became impossible when Jason started to ramble about how happy he was that Nico was coming. Nico was forced to at least pretend to give in out of fear that Jason would look at him with those Will-eyes again if Nico hurt his feelings.

Jason did, in fact, use the Will-eyes on him a few more times. Even though Nico steeled his resolve every time, he could never bring himself to refuse him.

* * *

After Nico left, Cecil asked his husband to give them a moment before gesturing Will off to a private corner. “Tell me honestly, Will. Does he treat you well?”

Will frowned. “His Highness? Of course he does.”

“Pardon me for worrying, but he did call me a weasel and he called my husband a toad,” Cecil said. “I think you can understand why I would worry about my friend marrying him.”

“Cecil, I know that you didn’t have the best experience when you attempted to court him, but that was many years ago.”

Cecil shrugged. “If you insist. I do hope we didn’t make him too angry earlier.”

The corner of Will’s mouth twitched up. “He likes me too much to stay angry with me very long. Cecil, I have been engaged to him for a few years now and we’ve grown close in that time. I know him. He doesn’t have a good reputation, but since I have met him, he has always been kind. Stubborn, perhaps, but kind.”

Cecil nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll have to trust you. Besides, I think I dislike him a bit less when he’s around you.”

“I like him quite a lot,” Will said happily.

“I suppose someone has to,” Cecil mumbled. “But really — you get along with him? Well, of course you do. You could get along with anyone. But you aren’t forcing yourself on account of his status?”

Will didn’t understand the question at first. Nico’s status had never been Will’s primary motive for marrying him — that had only made the decision easier. “Cecil, I love him,” Will said. “And he loves me.”

Cecil held Will’s eyes for a moment, like he was searching for something. “Alright,” he finally said. “Then I wish you happiness. Anyway, I ought invite my toad to dance now. Enjoy your evening, Will. May the Morai smile on your marriage.”

Cecil clapped Will on the shoulder and offered a smile before walking off to find his husband. Will still felt that he should have said something different to stand up for Nico. It hadn’t been the first time that someone had approached Will and expressed concern about his fiancé, but Will hadn’t heard it in a while and had nearly forgotten how poor Nico’s reputation was in Pluto. True, Nico could be cold at first, and according to what Will had heard, he’d even been unruly or rude at times when he was younger, but anyone could be like that sometimes. While Cecil’s friendly concern may have been reasonable, Nico didn’t deserve the hate and fear so many people in his kingdom held for him. Will felt that he ought to be doing something to help, something to show them what he saw in Nico.

Shaking his head, Will went back to the entrance of the Hall of Gold to greet the rest of the guests with the royal family. Hades looked at him sternly and asked where Nico had gone. “He is cooling his temper,” Will replied. Hades set his jaw in a displeased frown, but Persephone patted his arm and told him to leave Nico be.

Nico didn’t return by the time the guests had all been greeted, which worried Will until he entered the Chamber of Ouranos and caught sight of Nico sitting with Princes Percy and Jason. Even from across the room, Nico’s expression was enough evidence of his discomfort. Will considered helping him, but had just decided that he’d let Nico deal with it on his own when a loud, dramatic sigh cut through his thoughts and Lou Ellen suddenly appeared leaning on the wall beside him.

“Hello, Will,” she said.

“Good evening, Lou,” Will replied, taking note of the conspicuous lack of Lee and Michael around her. “Where are the others?”

Lou Ellen shrugged. “I lost them a while ago. Where’s your groom?”

“Cooling his temper, probably. I made him a bit angry.”

“You?” Lou Ellen laughed. “You made someone angry? That doesn’t happen very often.”

“I’ll apologize for teasing him later,” Will said. “I may have gone a bit too far, but he probably deserved it. He insulted my friends.”

Lou Ellen raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

“No, everything’s fine,” Will assured. After his conversation with Cecil, he didn’t need anyone else to worry about his marriage. “What about you and Lee? Is everything alright?” Lee and Lou Ellen had been acting differently ever since about a week before they left Diana. There had been a bit of excitement earlier that month when they thought Lou might be pregnant, but in the end it had turned out to be nothing. Something about their relationship hadn’t seemed as effortless as usual since then. They still got along well and they continued to be affectionate with each other, but there was some sort of passionate aspect of their relationship that didn’t seem as prominent to Will.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Lou said. “We’re just disappointed. We’ve been trying for years.”

Will nodded. The entire family had been disappointed—especially Apollo, who had cried for days after they told him. Apollo adored babies and desperately yearned for a grandchild. In fact, he loved having children in the house so much that Lou and Michael had a running bet on how much longer Apollo would last before having another one. Will wasn’t participating in the bet, but he suspected that Apollo wouldn’t last long after the wedding. If Lee and Lou Ellen didn’t have a baby soon, Apollo would probably make his own instead.

Lou Ellen cleared her throat. “Actually, Will, I wanted to ask if you...well, you’ve studied the body, so I wondered if you knew of anything that might help.”

Will sighed. “Lou, I have to be honest with you,” he said. “There is a chance that you and Lee simply can’t have children.”

Lou Ellen closed her eyes and sighed deeply, but didn’t look surprised. “But if there’s any hope at all....”

“There are a few things that might help,” Will said. “I can teach you how to track your fertile times, if you’d like.”

“Would you?” Lou Ellen asked, her expression brightening. Will didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t confident it would make a difference.

Will opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when he noticed Lee cutting through the crowd towards them. “I’ll write it down for you later,” Will promised.

“There you are!” Lee said, leaning down to kiss Lou’s forehead. “I have been looking everywhere for you. People keep asking me to dance and rejecting them has gotten tiring. Being handsome is such a hassle.”

Lou Ellen smiled at him in amusement. “You’re allowed to dance with other people. You needn’t hold back on my account.”

“But you are the only one I want to dance with, my love,” Lee said. “Won’t you protect me from my own tragically good looks?”

“Of course, dear. I sometimes forget how painful it is for you to be so devastatingly gorgeous.”

Will rolled his eyes, but he felt a little bit relieved. Lee and Lou Ellen’s relationship seemed just fine.

“So,” Lee said. “What have you been doing while I was off fending for myself?”

“Will has been providing me with some tips for our bedroom activities,” Lou said proudly.

“Why, thank you, Will!” said Lee. “I look forward to discovering what she learned.”

Will hid his face in his hands in embarrassment. “I hate you both,” he muttered.

“Ridiculous,” Lee said. “You are going to miss me terribly when we leave. It won’t be a month before you send me a tear-stained letter crying about how you wish I hadn’t left you behind. But as much as I wish I could could stay and chat, I actually came here because Lou and I need to relieve Mama from Octavian Duty soon.”

Will nodded sympathetically. Fortunately, he had been excused from Octavian Duty for the duration of his wedding, but Octavian needed to be constantly monitored. “Where is everyone else?” Will asked.

“Michael and Papa are together somewhere,” Lee answered. “Papa thinks he is watching over Michael to make sure he doesn’t drink too much, but Michael thinks he is watching Papa to make sure he doesn’t try to woo anyone important. I’m not sure which one of them is correct, but I decided not to pry. Chiron and Austin are watching Kayla to keep her from destroying anything else. Oh, and I believe Lady Reyna was looking for you to prepare for the lighting of the wedding hearth. Where’s your groom, by the way?”

“Will teased him and now they’re in the midst of a lover’s quarrel,” Lou Ellen replied.

“It’s not a lover’s quarrel,” Will said.

Lee whistled. “Bad timing, Will. I suggest you make up before tomorrow night.”

Lou Ellen scoffed. “I’d wager seven aurei that all he has to do is smile to get the Prince to forgive him.”

Will blushed and tried to protest, but Lee laughed. “I’m not betting against that,” he said. “Go find your prince and Lady Reyna, Will. Lou and I ought to relieve Mama before Octavian wears through her patience.”

After Lou Ellen and Lee had left, Will scanned the crowd for Reyna’s sororal silver. The dresses of sorors and the pale colors popular in Jupiter and Neptune stood out against the backdrop of dark colors favored by Plutonian aristocrats. Will wondered if it was simply a unique Plutonian style, or whether the fashion of Pluto had fallen behind since the Scarlet Delirium’s effect on the economy. Earlier that week, Lee had remarked that the cut of Plutonian clothes seemed a bit dated, with higher waistlines on men’s clothing and higher necklines on the women’s. Will had never noticed, but perhaps Lee had a point. Over time, the lower Neptunian cut had become popular in Jupiter, but it appeared that the trend had not spread to Pluto. When he had brought it up with Nico, however, Nico had declared that the Neptunian cut was scandalous and that Plutonians simply had a sense of decency. Reyna, who had been in the room at the time, had laughed and teased him for being hypocritically prudish.

When Will found her, Reyna informed him that it was time to prepare for the lighting of the wedding hearth and asked where the Prince was. Will pointed to where he’d seen Nico and asked her opinion on the way Nico had stormed off earlier.

“I think that it will take approximately two seconds for him to forgive you, if he hasn’t already,” she said. “But I also think you ought to apologize anyway. I, for one, am guilty of teasing him too often. It’s true that he overreacts, but he doesn’t deserve to be teased so much.”

Will nodded. “I agree,” he said.

“That being said,” Reyna went on, “He was quite terrible to those suitors and a bit of retribution was due. I wish I’d been there to see it.”

When they found Nico, he was still sitting with Princes Percy and Jason, looking miserable and desperate for an escape. He seemed happy to see Will at first, quickly abandoning the other princes to run to latch onto Will’s arm, but then he frowned and scowled like he had just remembered that he was supposed to be angry.

“I wanted to apologize for teasing you so much earlier,” Will said. “I shouldn’t have done that, especially not in front of our guests.”

Nico looked like he was ready to argue further, but then Will smiled at him and, as Lou Ellen had predicted, the resolve melted from Nico’s expression. “My actions may have warranted a bit of teasing,” Nico admitted. “Did I truly insult you when I compared you to Asterion?”

Will chuckled under his breath. “Of course not,” he answered.

“Good. Because I didn’t mean to, really. I meant to be encouraging. I worried that I might have said it the wrong way and when you commented on it earlier, I thought....”

“Your Highness, I never even considered that you meant to insult me by comparing me to Asterion,” Will said. “In fact, I’m flattered that you think as highly of me as you do of your dog.”

Reyna cleared her throat. “Now that you’ve successfully made up, I suggest you make your way to the courtyard for the wedding hearth ceremony before the sun sets,” she said. “The guests have already begun to gather.

Will looked up at the domed glass roof of the Hall of Ouranos to see that the sky already had an orange cast in the west. The lighting of the wedding hearth always took place at sundown. It was a Plutonian ritual to signify the beginning of the celebrations. The first time Will heard of it was at Lee and Lou Ellen wedding when they lit the hearth in honor of Lou Ellen’s Trivian heritage. The tradition originated in ancient Pluto, Nico had explained. The hearth was considered to be the heart of the home; it served as a place to gather for conversation, to cook, and to eat. The lighting of the wedding hearth signified a welcoming embrace and the joining of families through matrimony. In more recent times, royalty and noble or wealthy families often performed the ceremony with a great fire pit rather than an indoor fireplace. Lee and Lou Ellen had lit a fire pit in the courtyard of the Sun Palace. Nico and Will would do the same at the Palatium de Divitae.

As they left, Will heard couriers announcing that the wedding hearth ceremony was about to begin and a crowd had already begun to form by the time they arrived in the courtyard. Reyna led them past guests wearing heavy perfumes, frilled coats, and sweeping skirts until they reached the fire pit. Dried logs and twigs had been piled on top of one another to build a tall structure, one that seemed even larger than the wedding hearth at Lee and Lou Ellen’s wedding. An outdoor orchestra filled the air with music distinct from the chatter of the crowd. Not for the first time, Will was struck by the absurdity of the fact that all of the extravagance was for him and his wedding. To Will, it seemed as though the entire world was celebrating his marriage.

Reyna arranged them so that they were standing in the proper places in front of the fire pit and asked, “Do you both remember what you are supposed to do?”

“Of course,” Will said. To his left, Nico nodded, but seemed less certain. Will frowned in concern. After finishing the rituals in the temples and the mausoleum, Nico’s nerves had appeared to melt away, but he suddenly seemed tense again.

Reyna seemed to notice Nico’s unease, as well. “Everything will be alright, Your Highness,” she said. “It’s a short ceremony. It’ll be over before you can blink.” Before she turned to leave, Reyna looked at Will and nodded, a gesture that Will understood to mean, take care of him for me.

A moment later, when they were alone, Will looked at Nico and asked, “Are you nervous about the ceremony?”

Nico didn’t look back at him. He stared straight forward into the crowd and chewed his lip before answering. “Ceremonies don’t really make me anxious,” he eventually said.

“Then are you nervous about marriage?”

“No,” Nico replied. “Quite the opposite. I’m so excited that it’s driving me mad.”

Nico looked up then. The darkening red sky made his eyes look like they were made of fire. Will felt like his gaze was piercing him, threatening to strike his very soul. Will was vulnerable, weak, and naked in a way that he only ever felt around Nico. “I love you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He wanted to kiss Nico right there in front of the crowd, but just managed to hold himself back.

Nico’s expression melted into something softer and gentler. “And I love you,” he answered.

Will might have kissed him then, had the crowd not started to part for a woman in silver holding a lit torch. There had never been a question as to whom would perform the soror’s rituals in their wedding. Artemis had been the obvious choice and she had made it quite clear that she would not tolerate them even thinking of asking another soror.

Artemis offered the torch to Nico without a word when she reached them. The lighting of the wedding hearth was a silent ceremony. There were no hymns to recite, no words to exchange — the heath spoke for itself.

When Nico turned to share it with Will, their eyes met across the flame. There was a question in Nico’s eyes. Will wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. Perhaps, Are you certain? or, Are you ready?

Will’s answer was the same either way. He reached out to help Nico hold the torch, and together, they dipped it into the fire pit. For a moment, it didn’t catch. Will noticed Nico’s body go tense. Then a dry bit of dead brush started to burn, and only a moment later, the pit was engulfed in flames.

The fire would be kept alive over the next two days of the wedding. Supposedly, it was a bad omen if the fire ran out before the wedding ended, but Will didn’t believe that was true. However, Nico did. The hearth was to be constantly monitored and tended to until they threw in the wedding wreaths to signal the end of the celebrations at the end of gift-giving day.

The crowd cheered and applauded as the flames licked up towards the clouds. Nico returned the torch to Artemis, then took Will’s hand and stood beside him to watch the smoke rise into the air. In the distance, the first firework of the night rocketed up before bursting into streaks of red across the dark sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Will noticed Reyna turn and disappear into the crowd.

“Where is Reyna going?” Will asked.

“My chambers,” Nico replied. “I asked her to take care of Asterion before the fireworks startle him too much. He’s afraid of them.”

Will smiled to himself. “I remember. That was the night we had our first kiss.”

“Yes,” Nico said. He sounded surprisingly displeased. “But if you hadn’t been so annoyingly polite, we could have kissed long before then. You must have realized that I’d been trying to get you to kiss me since the fall.”

Will laughed. “I hadn’t the faintest clue. I couldn’t understand you at all back then. But you were not very forthcoming with your feelings.”

“I’m improving.”

“Yes,” Will agreed. “And I have become much better able to understand you, as well.”

“Yet we still have much to learn, don’t we?”

Will cupped Nico’s jaw and carefully brushed his thumb over his cheek. “Yes. And I suspect that the more I learn, the more I’m going to fall in love with you.”

They kissed while the crowd around them was too busy watching the fireworks to pay attention. “One more night,” Nico whispered, running his fingers down the front of Will’s coat. “Then we can....”

“One more night and I’m yours,” Will answered.

#arranged marriage AU #solangelo arranged marriage au #pjo arranged marriage au #royalty au #solangelo royalty au #pjo royalty au #solangelo #Nico di Angelo #Will Solace #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #The Heroes of Olympus #Heroes of Olympus #the trials of apollo #trials of apollo #toa #hoo #pjo #reyna avila ramirez arellano

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forksofwisdom · 7 years ago

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Twilight Characters Cast as Greek Deities - pictures + explanations

Warning:

This is a long one (but there are a lot of pretty pictures!)

By Greek Deities I mean all of them - the Primordial gods, Titans, Olympians, Daemones (personified spirits), and Nymphs. I focused on the deities personalities, abilities or history to find the right fit! Relationships are not taken into account!

Thanks to the anon who encouraged me to combine my love of Greek mythology with Twilight! This is for you!

These are simply my headcanons, so you're free to disagree or expand on them as you like!

The Olympic Coven

Carlisle's foremost characteristic is his compassion and desire to heal others. He saved the lives of most of his family members; Edward, Rosalie, Esme, and Emmet. Asclepius, the son of Apollo and famed physician, was punished by Zeus for saving the life of mortals from certain death. He was elevated to godhood in death.

Esme is described as the heart of the family. In ancient Greece, the hearth was the center of the home and family. Hestia received the first offering in every household since she presided over the preparation of the family meal.

Jasper participated in two major wars, both as a major and then as a second-in-command. He isn't rash or sadistic enough to be Ares, but his gift for strategy and charisma makes Pallas, the Titan god of Warcraft and military campaign, an excellent choice for him.

Alice has the gift of foresight, but her vivacious personality is why I chose the Titaness, Phoebe, out of all of the prophets and oracles. Phoebe is derived from the Greek word "phoibos" which means bright or radiant!

Emmett has superior strength than most vampires. Kratos is the personified spirit of strength, might, power and sovereign rule.

Rosalie was a difficult choice because she's like the lovechild of Aphrodite and Athena. She's beautiful, passionate, and desires children (procreation) but a she's also intelligent and interested in mechanics and engineering which is Athena's domain. I went with Aphrodite in the end because Athena is a maiden goddess and asexual.

Edward was an easy choice however because there are surprisingly few gods who rule music. Apollo is the god of music, poetry, and healing (to name a few) and Edward has an interest in medicine. To my knowledge, there are no Greek gods with the ability to read minds as Edward does.

The Quileutes

Sam was forced to keep the Alpha position by Jacob, which is an immense responsibility. Atlas was condemned to bear the entire sky for leading the Titans in their war against Zeus. Atlas came to mean endurance. (I thought of Hades at first, and I totally agree with you anon - he's got the 'hard on the outside soft on the inside' thing down to pat, but Hades fit another character better!)

Jared has the penchant for gambling. At first, I thought Hermes would be a good match for him, but Hermes many other titles (so, so many titles). I decided that Caerus, who is the god of opportunity, critical time, advantage and profit, was a better fit since those are attributes of (successful) betting.

Paul has a temper, but he's not a sadist like Ares. Poseidon is infamous for his temper tantrums, causing earthquakes and tsunamis (he's also a petty bitch, and I wouldn't put it past Paul to be one too if he could get away with it)

Jacob has a love for mechanics, and not many can say that they built their car! Hephaestus became the god of smiths, fire, and metalworking and his creations are prized and sought after by all the other gods!

Leah was challenging to cast. Initially, I thought she'd make a good Artemis, but that goddess has notoriously born hatred for all men since her birth. The only side of Leah we get to see in canon is the front she puts up - burnt and bitter. She's argumentative, sharp-tongued, and downright vicious. Eris is... not pleasant to be around. I think Leah would join Artemis and become her handmaiden once she's calmed down and away from Sam and Emily.

Seth is our sunshine boy!!! (need I say more???)

Embry is reserved and likes his space. I think he's the type to take advantage of the trails around La Push and go on long walks and enjoy his own company. Pan was the god of shepherds and forests of the mountain wilds. The Greeks associated his name with the word pan which means "all." However, its true origin lay in an old Arcadian word for rustic, but I couldn't resist quoting Hitchhiker's Guide in the picture - it's my favorite. I'M ONLY HUMAN!)

Quil is remarkably relaxed and cheerful for a boy who's supposed to be raging with testosterone *cough* Jake *cough* Paul *hack*. He seems like the sort of guy to enjoy a good party, and Dionysos certainly does. It doesn't hurt that he's best friends with Pan (Embry).

Emily was against Sam imprinting her at first. She was a victim of circumstance (it’s still shitty what they did to Leah), and Persephone was precisely that: a victim. Hades asked Zeus for the hand of one of his daughters and Zeus said that he could have Persephone, but that he'd need to kidnap her because Demeter would never allow him to have her daughter. He stole her and later tricked Persephone into staying with him for eternity. They fall deeply in love by the end tho.

Kim's personality isn't known in canon - other than that she's shy. She's a favorite of mine though, so that's why she's here! In my headcanon, Kim is intelligent and offers great advice. She's cunning as well, and nothing goes past her - Jared doesn't stand a chance. Metis was a councilor of Zeus during his war against the Titans and hatched the plan which would make Cronus regurgitate Zeus's siblings. (She's also the mother of Athena - pls read her story it's incredible! ಥ_ಥ)

The Swan Family

Bella is a shield, both in her human life and as a vampire. She does what she can to protect her loved ones, even going as far as to sacrifice herself by drawing blood as a distraction during the battle against Victoria. Soteria is the goddess and personification of safety, deliverance, and protection from harm. Deliverance, the action of being rescued or set free, is appropriate since Bella saved Edward from his inner demons as well.

Charlie represents the human laws in Twilight as a police officer. He's calm and more accepting than most (though he has his limits *cough* Edward *cough*). Rhadamanthys was a famously just lawmaker during his mortal life and was appointed as one of the three Judges of the Dead and King of the Elysian Fields after he died.

Renée tends to shift her hobbies and interests from one to another. Horme is the personification of effort and represents setting oneself in motion, and starting an action.

The Volturi

Aro is the current king and ruler of the vampires. He isn't a philanderer, so Zeus was out, but how he murdered his sister, Dinyme, in cold blood to keep Marcus from leaving the Volturi (and thus losing his power) reminds me of Cronus's desperate attempt to thwart his prophesied defeat at the hands of his child. Cronus ate his own children and familicide was one of the worst crimes you could commit in ancient Greece.

Marcus was DEPRESSED after he lost Didyme, his mate. The guy whispered "finally" when his head was about to be ripped off. Penthos is the personification of lamentation and mourning.

Caius is a sadist whose answer for everything is death and destruction. Ares revels in war for its own sake. He delights in the din and roar of battles, in the slaughter of men, and the destruction of towns. When Thanatos (the grim reaper) went missing, and people stopped dying, Ares sulked and famously said: "What's the point of war if no one dies?"

Jane was easy. She experienced such pain when she was burning at the stake that she could wield it with her mind when she became a vampire. Lupe is one of The Algea, who are three sisters that are the personification of pain and suffering - in both body and mind - grief, sorrow, and distress.

Alec's power reminded me of Hypnos, who puts you to sleep before Morpheus gives you dreams. Alec shuts off all of your senses - kind of like turning the off switch.

Sulpicia isn't given much of a personality in canon, and in Life and Death, Smeyer simply turned her into a female Aro by giving her his abilities of tactile telepathy. She deserves more credit; she's incredibly old, and I like to think that while she's locked up in the tower, Sulpicia keeps up with the times by watching the news on TV or reading news articles on the internet. Mnemosyne was the Titan goddess of memory and represented the rote memorization required to preserve the stories of history and myth before the introduction of writing.

Didyme's power was inducing happiness. Euphrosyne was one of the three Charities and the goddess of good cheer, mirth, merriment, and joy.

Athenodora is said to be one of the oldest vampires still walking the earth. We don't know much about her, but I bet she's created a few vampires in her time to keep the species going. Gaia was born at the dawn of creation, and all of the heavenly gods are her descendants.

Corin's addictive power is what persuades the wives and Chelsea to stay content in their imprisonment. You go through severe withdrawal by leaving, but it can be done since Eleazar, whose ability Aro coveted, left with Carmen. Peitho personifies persuasion and seduction - not 100% fitting to Corin's talents but the best I could think of...

Felix is a high-ranking guard and relies on strength and combat techniques to serve his leaders. His physical capabilities are so powerful that he has maintained within the guard for centuries. Alexiares, whose name means unconquerable, is one of two brothers that preside over defense and fortification of Olympus's gate.

Demitri's tracking ability and "Casanova lifestyle" immediately reminded me of Hermes, who is the god of herds, travelers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy. It's fitting because Demitri is also shown to be polite and restrained, but he undoubtedly has a few aces up his sleeves to have survived in the Volturi guard for centuries.

Chelsea's ability to strip people of their emotional ties and forge new ones is unnerving. Ananke was the primordial goddess of necessity, compulsion, and inevitability. She emerged from Chaos fully formed at the beginning of all creation and is thought to be untouchable by all, from mortals and the immortals. She's able to control the fates of other gods and make them slaves to their own urges if she so chooses.

Afton's ability to make himself invisible is not found in any Greek deity, but Hades owns a helmet which is made of darkness and renders the user invisible.

The Denali Coven

Eleazar's ability to see other's potential reminds me of Prometheus's forethought and the unshakable belief he has in the humans Zeus forced him to create.

Carmen is pretty chill and peaceful from what we get to see of her in Breaking Dawn. She isn't overly troubled by the legality of things since she accepts Renesmee, whose existence goes against both the laws of vampires and those of nature, at once. We see that Carmen is maternal and gentle when she asks if she can hold Renesmee. Eirene is the personification of peace, and for Carmen, I interpreted that as personal peace and not upholding the legal system. Statues of Eirene often depict her as a maiden holding the infant Ploutos (Wealth) in her arms.

Kate is OOOLD but not the oldest vampire in existence. Since the power of lightning is solely in Zeus's domain (and Kate isn't a serial rapist), I had to overlook her electric ability. Electricity is used as a source of light, so I think Hemera is a good choice for Kate. She's the primordial goddess of the day and would disperse her mother Nyx's dark mists every morning to bathe the earth in the light from the ether.

Tanya reminds me of the Titaness Eos because they both have an insatiable desire for handsome men. Eos shares Hemera's domain, and later took over her duty of bringing the dawn to earth by opening the gates for Helios's chariot.

Irina thought the Cullens had created an immortal child, which was the outlawed. To her, it seemed like the Cullens thought they were above their laws and reported them to the Volturi accordingly. Nemesis is the goddess who exacted retribution against those who succumb to hubris.

The Irish Coven

Maggie can detect lies. Aletheia's the personification of truth and sincerity.

Siobhan's talent is outcome manipulation, which I assume means she can affect the outcome of some event. Lachesis was the second of the Three Fates. She distributes the 'thread' of a life. "Lanchano" means to obtain by lot, by fate, or by the will of the gods.

The Amazon Coven

Zafrina's ability of visual projection reminded me of Pasithea's past time of inducing hallucinations and relaxation. She was one of the younger Charities but later married Hypnos and now resides with him in the Underworld.

Kachiri was the first out of the Amazon Coven to be bitten, but she didn't want to be separated from her two best friends, Senna and Zafrina, so she went back and turned them as well. I'm endlessly fascinated by their coven, so I didn't want to separate them here! Macaria is the goddess of "blessed" death which reminded me of how Kachiri came to collect her friends.

Senna is the quiet one, but that might be because she was wary around the Cullens. Gorgyra is a nymph in the Underworld and gave birth to Hade's orchardist. I can see her chilling with Katchiri and Zafrina in her son's orchard.

James’s Coven

James is an asshole. He’s so petty that he couldn't deal with the Cullen's refusal of sharing their meal, so he tricked Bella into coming to him by pretending to have her mother (how would he know who Renée was and wasn't she in Jacksonville??? Use your brain, Bella). Dolos is the personification of trickery, cunning deception, treachery, and guile - so basically, he's a nasty piece of work. He and James deserve each other.

Victoria was the first one I cast. She instantly reminded me of Hera because instead of punishing her husband/mate for his wandering eyes (greedy, in James's case) she goes to great length to punish Edward by trying to kill Bella, who is the innocent one in this whole shitshow. Hera, the goddess of marriage, should have picked a better husband because Zeus already was notorious for panting after every attractive face that came his way before they wed (heck he even cheated on her during their wedding celebration).

Laurent didn't give me a lot to work with since he's only portrayed as a coward. That doesn't seem correct because he came back to warn the Cullen's of James's plans and he later returned to Forks as a favor to Victoria. Epimetheus, the brother of Prometheus, was the Titan god of afterthought and excuses. I think Laurent regretted his decisions in the end, both for having traveled with James, and for having listened to Victoria. He also gave Bella the excuse that he had to kill her since Victoria was his old buddy.

Nomads

Peter was another difficult choice. At first, I thought Thanatos might be a good choice since Peter enjoyed fighting in Maria's army. Thanatos's gentle touch kills instantly, but Jasper was the one who killed the newborns. Peter fell in love with Charlotte, whose newborn powers eventually expired, but instead of "delivering" Charlotte to her death, Peter told her to run and chased after her. Kharon (Charon) transported the dead across the waters to Hades in his boat but refused those that couldn't pay for the ride.

Charlotte is a survivor. She isn't a fighter by nature, but she made it through the Southern vampire wars alive and then fled with Peter to roam free as a nomad. Nike is the goddess of victory - both in war and in peaceful competition. I think Charlotte conquered all of life's trials and also when it came to love.

Alistair is an ancient hermit. He's suspicious by nature and rather displeased with his lot in life. I don't blame the guy since he was betrayed by his father and as a vampire, the falcons Alistair loved flew away from him in terror. Ouranos was the primordial god of the sky and was later betrayed by his sons.

Garrett was a hotheaded patriot who willingly fought for the colonies' right to self-govern. He was a true believer in the American dream. Menoetius was the god of rash actions and violent rage. The Greek word “menos” means might, force, passion, and battle rage.

Maria isn't a nomad, but I thought I'd include her on the list. She lived in Monterrey with her coven, her mate and two others that were like parents to her, before they were destroyed in the vampire battle for territory. Maria was the only survivor, and she built an army to extract revenge and get her territory back. Poine is the personified spirit of retribution, vengeance, recompense, punishment, and penalty for the crime of murder and manslaughter.

The Egyptian Coven

Benjamin was a tough one because of his elemental powers. The Greek gods divided the four elements between them, so there isn't one deity that has control over them all at once. Phanes was the primordial god of creation in the Orphic cosmogony. He was the generator of life and the driving force behind reproduction in the early cosmos. Phanes hatched from the world-egg, a primordial mix of elements split into its constituent parts. So he sort of had control over the elements at one point before dispersing them among his siblings. (Phanes was later known as Eros).

Tia was a quiet woman but when she did speak her words were insightful, and there was gravity to everything she said. Epiphron was the personification of shrewdness, careful consideration, and sagacity.

Kebi was Amun's slave while she was human. He chose her to become his mate because of her good looks. She was helpless from the start, and we never get to hear her speak or show any indication of being unhappy with her situation. Aporia is the personified spirit of powerlessness, want and difficulty.

Amun was tricky because, to be honest, he's a bastard, but we mustn't forget cultural relativity. Slavery was considered to be a-okay back in the days, and it was probably a fantastic way to keep a vampire's kitchen stocked. Now not so much but Amun doesn't seem like the type to evolve with the times. He's possessive and paranoid, keeping Benjamin locked away in an ivory tower so the Volturi won't come and steal him away as they did to Demitri. He also deprived Kebi of her choices and made her his slave/mate in death as well. Along with ruling death and funeral rites, Hades is also the god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil with nourished the seed-grain to the mined wealth of gold, silver, and other metals. Benjamin is Amun's hidden treasure.

Humans

Jessica is a normal teenage girl. She likes having friends, gossiping, and has a crush on the most handsome boy in school who doesn't return her affections. Echo was much the same; she gossiped, but she wasn't meanspirited, and genuinely wanted to help her friends in the conquest of love. She lied to Hera, who cursed her to have an echo of a voice as punishment for distracting her from Zeus's affairs with her endless chatter. She later fell in love with Narcissus who spurned her affections.

Angela is the sweetest, most kindhearted person we get to meet in Twilight. Philophrosyne is one of the younger Charities and is the personification of friendliness and welcome.

Mike has the hots for Bella. He has an on-and-off relationship with Jessica but only asked her out because Bella told him to. Himeros is the god of sexual desire and the personification of longing, and yearning.

Lauren is jealous of everyone who is pretty, despite being the most popular girl at school. She's also standoffish and snobby. Hybris is the personified spirit of insolence, hubris, violence, reckless pride, arrogance and outrageous behavior in general.

Let me know what you think!

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