#SHOULD APOLLO FEEL THREATENED OR JEALOUS? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pumpkinbxtch · 28 days

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:D omg, you are going to make me addicted to apolo, the man cries out to be loved, a request for the favor of our dear apolo (in devinart there was a farm where the reader dated leo but he cheated on her with calypso, then the He realizes that he made the worst mistake of his life, seeing that because of calypso he was attracted but he loved the reader)How does Leo react when he discovers that his ex-girlfriend, whom he still loves, is now Apollo's partner(fiancee) pleeeees

i'm a loser.・゜-: ✧ :-

leo valdez x fem!reader x apollo

summary: Leo realizes that he messed it up a little... well no, he totally screwed up. And now he's going for you, he's going to tell you that he loves you, that you should be together for the rest of your lifes oooh, wait. Are you married with Apollo? THE GOD APOLLO? warnings: THIS IS SO LONG, HAHA but another one? mmm nope, i don't think so. a/n: yeaaaah, the concept you gave me is so hilarious, i love it. Leo is literally my boyfriend but making him suffer makes me laugh, it's like YES DAMN CRY FOR ME, but whatever. i was even inspired by that song by my beloved Beatles. i hope you like it.

w/c: 2.617 (the longest I've done so far, followed by "lovelorn")

Apollo wanted to laugh, he really wanted to, but he had learned not to make fun of other people's shit, but damn, could you blame him? He definitely never thought that Leo Valdez was an opponent for him, don't get him wrong, he was saying it because he likes him. (really) and helped him during his mission, but there, standing from his palace on Olympus, he could see everything, including if someone was threatening against you, his wife.

Flames rose as Leo threw the map into the air in fury, totally frustrated in Festus. He couldn't find you, in fact, Apollo kept wondering how he was tracking you, but he didn't seem to want to answer that question. No, or he would end his patience, yes, he had appreciation for the Son of Hephaestus, but when they messed with you, he would lose his mind immediately, or worse, try to get into their relationship? He would be in charge of throwing Leo from the Mount Olympus.

Of course, he wasn't afraid, much less jealous, but he knew what the relationship with Leo had meant to you. You were totally in love, even Apollo knows that you would have married him if only Leo hadn't screwed things up, and boy did he do it big.

He mean, cheating on you with the now ex-sorceress Calypso? Oh, man. Who the fuck would cheat on you? Hmm, yes, Leo Valdez.

The main doors of the palace opened and Apollo dissolved the image. Some murmurs were heard, followed by footsteps heading towards the main throne room, it was definitely you.

— Apollo?— He heard the doors opening, and he stood in front of the fire, he didn't want to lie to you, but he couldn't interfere either, he knew that would make you upset. The footsteps approached and he felt you take his arm. — Apollo!—

He looked at you and feigned surprise. He raised both hands in welcome and cradled your face with them before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. — My beautiful wife.

You closed your eyes when his lips touched yours, and you smiled tenderly.

— Dear husband — You said in a soft mocking tone. You used to do it when Apollo couldn't help but sound so… posh. But to tell the truth, he filled you with joy.

He ran his fingers over your forehead, removing some baby hairs, and made a golden wreath of laurels appear on the crown of your head. He always spent his time adorning you and making you feel loved, you loved him.

Then, Apollo forced himself to blow out the bubble.

— Do you want something, dear?

— I know we're on… — your cheeks turned pink — the honeymoon, but I need to go to Camp Jupiter.

Your pleading eyes, damn, not even Zeus would dare say no to you. Then, he realized what was happening. Apollo tried to hide the realization from himself, but that name began to swirl in his mind; The Fates. Those antiques would hear about him.

—The honeymoon is an old concept, with traditions that we really don't take so… literally anymore —Apollo said as he gently ran his fingers over your blushing cheeks. —So, you know you can come and go whenever you want. I'm not like my uncle Hades.

The blonde giggled, and you poked his arm, making him jump.

— Apollo!

— My love!

You looked at him with a frown, and he smiled even more, trying to push aside all those thoughts where you could get hurt.

It was a fact, you were going to meet Leo at Camp Jupiter, and he wouldn't be able to do anything.

He caressed your face once more and turned, walking to the large window of the great room.

You felt bad leaving him alone, you didn't want to leave him like that, but you were in the last semesters of your degree. Yes, you were on vacation, but you had to leave some paperwork behind.

— I won't take a second.

Apollo let out a short laugh, full of knowledge. He knew it would take you at least a day and a half to get back to him. He turned to you and walked slowly.

—Just come back to me, dear.

Your eyes shone, and you walked the distance he needed to close the distance between you. You took his hands and kissed his knuckles.

— Always.

He turned his hands so that he was the one holding yours now and made a wedding ring appear on your ring finger. When you looked at the diamond, you raised your eyebrow and your look became amused.

—Do you mark your territory?

Apollo smiled and kissed your forehead.

— In case some fool hasn't heard the great news that I am your husband.

The fool was Leo, yes. Apollo said it for him, if not, for who else?

Your husband had done you a favor and made you appear right at the entrance to Camp Jupiter, advantages of a god making you his wife. When the campers guarding the doors saw you, they immediately opened it for you.

You excused yourself and made your way towards New Rome, in fact, you hesitated whether to go there first or go say hello or… If you would meet them anyway near the university.

You walked to the limit.

You loved New Rome, it was definitely home to you, at least when you had to stay on campus during the semester. But to live the rest of your life there would also have been pleasant, although Mount Olympus wasn't bad.

You made your way and some looked at you. So, you quickened your pace, you didn't like to attract a lot of attention like that.

You moved quickly towards the university and found the campus. Blessed be the gods.

You clutched the papers to your chest and walked.

— HEY!

You turned around slowly, not really wanting any questions. But you turned completely around when you saw Frank holding hands with Hazel, trying to reach you.

— GUYS!

They both caught up to you and smiled hungrily. They wanted to hug you, but they backed out at the last moment, which made you frown.

— What was that?

Frank started babbling and Hazel laughed nervously.

—Can we hug you?

You laughed and threw yourself at both of them, so you hugged at the same time. — You fools, I'm the same as always. Just how married and that's it.

Frank denied. — WITH APOLLO

Hazel punched him in the belly, making him double over. The three of you laughed, and then she looked at you nervously.

—Have you seen anyone else? —She asked. You denied.

— I figured Percy and Annabeth would be in New York for the holidays. Nico and Will, Camp Half-Blood, Jason finishing his accounting for the new altars. Piper, in Oklahoma… — You made loops with your hand and thought if you had forgotten someone.

Hazel looked at Frank, and he encouraged her to say whatever had them both acting that way.

Hazel sighed.

—Leo arrived in the morning.

Your expression did not change at all, a reaction that your friends had not expected.

— AND?

Frank scratched the back of his neck nervously. — He is actually searching for you.

Then your eyebrows raised, showing your confusion.

— what? — You snorted. You looked for any sign that it was a joke, but there was none. — So? Do I owe him money?

Hazel laughed nervously and shook her head.

— I think he's looking for you because he wants to fix things with you.

— He's desperate — Frank agreed.

You laughed sarcastically.

—But he knows that I'm already married, right?

— Apparently… no one told him.

— What? — You asked again, raising your voice a little more. Both exchanged nervous glances. You mean, how far is Indianapolis? — Wait, he was with Calypso, he literally cheated on me with her because he said she was the love of his life.

The two of them raised their shoulders and you scoffed.

—Anyway, I'll leave these documents and go off to enjoy what's left of the vacation. Apollo waits for me. Will you accompany me?

Damn, the three of you were about to enter when you heard someone call your name, then Hazel's and finally Frank's, he was definitely the one who turned around, consequently forcing you and Hazel to do the same.

What your eyes saw were priceless. It was Leo running across campus with half his shirt burned and a desperate expression. Your heart raced, and your feet wanted to run away, instead, you stayed still and speechless.

—You are seeing the same thing, right?

Your friends nodded.

—He wasn't like this when we last saw him— Hazel said, forcing a smile and shaking her hand at Leo.

Leo had stopped at Camp Jupiter for supplies, also to check that you weren't there, and you definitely weren't there when he arrived, but rumors spread fast. You wondered if your ex-boyfriend had heard about why everyone was whispering about your arrival, but it seemed like not, or at least he seemed to ignore it.

And so it was.

Fate, the planets, and the stars aligned to ensure that Leo was ignorant about it, so that you would be the one to deal the final blow.

Things with Calypso didn't work out, why? Leo couldn't get you off his mind. Oh, what had he done? He literally cried like a baby when he realized he still loved you. He loved you, you loved him, so as always, he had to screw up.

Leo ran harder; He was taller, a little stockier, and his curls were fluffier than ever. Everything you used to worship was probably just a shadow of its former self. You weren't saying that he was bad, but you definitely no longer felt anything for him, although you couldn't help but feel a tug in your tummy full of melancholy, pain, and anger.

You had already forgiven him, but his recklessness made you want to kill him.

With little breath, Leo crouched down in front of you, grabbing his knees and looking for air.

You took a step back, your face dripping with confusion.

Hazel and Frank looked at him disapprovingly.

—I've been looking for you—he finally said.

— That's what I heard.

Leo stood up and wanted to hug you. To your surprise, you didn't stop him. You missed your friend Leo Valdez. Not your cheating ex-boyfriend, Leo Valdez.

Frank and Hazel screamed and became nervous.

—I've missed you.— He said, breathing softly, taking in pinches of your scent.

Your heart clenched and you forced yourself to smile.

—Me too, Leo.

That gave him courage. He broke the hug and gently took you by the arms.

— I was wrong… — His brown eyes projected remorse and sorrow. — I was seriously wrong, I shouldn't have…

The son of Hephaestus took a deep breath.

— I betrayed your trust. I put your love aside to think that my place was with someone else, but what a jerk… My place has always been with you. You are the one I love the most. Please forgive me …

Those words, as you would have liked to hear them so long ago, but now they were slipping over you, completely meaningless.

—Leo…

— Please! Give me another chance.

His plea resonated, drawing the attention of some residents. They took it as just a student love situation until they saw you. Oh shit, weren't you the wife of the great Apollo?

— Leo, you see… No. We can't have another chance.

Leo's heart beat so fast that he felt like it would jump out of his heart. He held you a little tighter and leaned down.

He was going to kiss you.

— No! — Hazel gasped and Frank hid behind her.

People around the campus seemed on the edge of their seats, they even plead the gods for Apollo didn't appear out of nowhere and incinerate them all. The god was definitely struggling to control his breathing from the palace. Where did his Yoga classes go? Someone meditate with him, please! He wanted to hang Leo.

You put a hand on Leo's lips, and he felt something cold. You slowly pushed him away with a frown on your face.

— I said no.

You turned your hand and revealed the glow of the diamond to his view. The Sun made it look ethereal because, well, it was.

Leo's soul fell at his feet, and he shook his head in confusion.

—I don't… I don't understand.

— I'm married, Leo. I married someone. Did you think I would be heartbroken since you

cheated on me with Calypso? That I will wait for you? — You snorted and pushed him gently.

— But with who?! Who the fuck-

You put your hand over his mouth again and shook your head.

—Don't do that.— You sighed brokenly and tried to do it delicately. If you named Apollo, everything could go to Tartarus. —He considers you for helping him during his mission as a mortal.

The gossipers laughed, some adults denied indignantly, and their friends, shit, Frank was almost having a heart attack fearing that Apollo would burn Leo to ashes.

—Apollo? —He said, with even greater confusion.

The god was still clinging to the edge of his throne, expectant.

You looked above and came to the conclusion that he was giving your ex-boyfriend a break. That action fell like a bucket of cold water on the son of Hephaestus.

He walked away from you.

— what?

You turned your gaze and caressed his cheek kindly. — I don't hold a grudge against you, Leo. I loved you so much. But I found someone who did not doubt his love for me and without thinking wanted to grow with me.

The boy shook his head and stumbled as he relented, leaving your hands suspended in the air. A gust of sweet air embraced them in that silent moment.

He let you go and thought he might have you back.

You were his friend, his confidant, and the love of his life, yet he let you go.

He disguised his doubts with bad jokes, dishonest touches, and lies.

How could he have been so stupid?

Haha, there goes the idiot that lost the love of his life to a god.

How could a love like the one you used to possess lose?

Look at me, then, Leo said to himself.

You returned with Apollo and your nerves were overwhelming you. This time you felt so distant to the palace, as if you were not worthy to enter. Still, they received you and welcomed you.

— is in his room.

You thanked and headed to the bedroom. Taking care not to be noisy and watch your steps.

Being at the foot of the entrance, the door opened and revealed your husband. Smiling?

Apollo opened the door and pulled you into the room. You couldn't help but laugh.

Your clothing magically changed upon entering, your modern clothes replaced by a white robe edged with gold. Your hair now adorned with laurels and golden jewels.

The jingle of jewelry amidst your loved one's laughter seemed like the most exquisite sound to you. He held you in his arms and hid her face in the crook of your neck.

You stroked his fluffy blonde curls.

— Welcome.

He said, bumping his forehead against yours.

— Did you miss me?— You said with humor. Apollo kissed your lips, instantly making you feel disoriented. He traced your cheek, your chin, and your neck. Kissed you behind your ear and hummed.

— I know I told you it would be fine if you went, but gods, how I missed you. Don't leave me the rest of your holidays.

You nodded.

That was your home.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#pjo hoo toa #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #lester papadopoulos #lester papadopoulos x you #apollo x you #apollo x reader #trials of apollo

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

Text

Chapter Six- Golden Blade

ʚ Summary: The divine scavenger hunt is on its final leg. Here, Mercury will find yet another obstacle. This time one sent from his stepmother, the queen of all the Gods.

ʚ Themes : Soft | Fluff | Adventure | Angst

ʚ Warning : Animal death

Did anyone tell you about the time I slayed a giant? No? Then buckle up, children; Uncle Mercury is about to begin story time.

You see, if there was a hierarchy for wandering eyes, my father would be its God-Emperor. No. Scratch that. My father would be the God-Emperor of all God-Emperors. He saw a beautiful woman and had to bed her. It was no different with Io, daughter of Argos (not to be confused with the giant in this story), and Melia. She was also the first priestess of my stepmother, Juno. As you can see, children, things got very ugly, so to speak.

My father fell in love with Io, wooed her, and canoodled with her. Then, as luck would have it, my stepmother grew suspicious and sniffed around. My father changed Io into this beautiful white heifer to hide her from Juno’s vengeful eyes. Juno eyed the cow and grew even more suspicious. She praised its beauty and asked my father to give it to her as a gift. Poor Io was stuck between a rock and a hard place: the rock being my stepmother, and the hard place, also, my stepmother. She had to keep quiet if she wanted to protect her life, so off she went when Juno was granted her wish. Juno, being the sharp goddess that she is, hired the services of the hundred-eyed giant Argus.

Io was miserable, for she was cut off from everyone, and my father, not wanting to see her suffer, called me, yours truly, to free her.

So I went, and I bartered and pleaded, threatened and bribed. Nothing worked. I thought I had nothing that Argus could want or even need. Argus did eye my pipe, though, and seeing my chance, I offered to play for him. I played and played, each tune more haunting and beautiful than the one before it. One eye closed. Then another, and another, until finally, all but one eye had closed. I waited and played, going on and on, until finally, that last eye closed, and Argus’ head slumped forward. Before he could wake up again, I drew my sword and struck his neck. That would have been the end of it, but Juno hounded poor Io until Jupiter finally gave in and promised to never look at Io’s way again.

And that is the story of me and the one hundred-eyed giant.

And the blade that brought about his demise was somewhere here, in the Valley of Temples. And I had eleven minutes and about fifteen seconds on the clock. Time to get cracking.

I could tell you so many stories about everything that went on here. About Castor and Pollux, about Icarus. And, of course, yet another temple to Hercules.

Jealous, my lord?

I laughed. Jealous? Me jealous of you? More laughter followed. Do you really want me to give you an answer, little brother? About who should be jealous of whom? Hey, Apollo! Maybe we sho--

Careful where you go with that, he growled. Hercules clearly caught on to what I was hinting at and wasn’t happy. After all, who would be happy to be reminded that they murdered their family? I felt bad because it wasn’t his fault. Our stepmother had a direct hand in his madness. Sorry! Sorry! I will not bring that up again.

Hercules grumbled, but calmed down all the same. He said: You have nine minutes left. Time is running out fast.

A sibling crisis is averted. On with the search.

My sword was here. I could feel it. I looked around, trying to sniff it out. And that was when it came flying out of the woodwork. The world went black as it flew straight at me, blocking my sight.

It was a peacock, flapping its wings at me, trying to dig its talons into my face. This was all Juno’s doing, I’m sure of it. I could feel it; time was flying by, and my sword was calling out to me. While the creature still hounded me, I ran straight and true to the temple of Hercules and looked around. My sword was here, I was sure of it.

The bird kept coming at me, this time trying to dig at my back. I ignored it, paying no mind to its talons. My sword was here, I just had to focus and--

There it was, hidden behind a crevice. The peacock was still coming at it, all beak and wings and talons. I couldn’t just disappear on it; it would simply cling onto me even more. Call him off, my lady! I gave a fair warning to Juno. Or his head will decorate my halls.

She laughed, clearly enjoying my struggle. What have you got against me anyway?

I have not forgotten what you did with Argus, She snapped at me.

Will she not let that go? I sighed. Are you sure you will not call him off? I asked, as I stuck my hand into the crevice and poked around. The bird was going at it, this time managing to draw ichor. I fumble and fumble until something cold and sharp knocks against my fingers. There it is. I fumbled around some more until I found the hilt and my hand circled around it. One good yank was all that was needed.

Juno laughed again. I will not, Messenger. But surely you could-- There was a shriek of epic proportions. WHAT DID YOU DO?

I managed to pull out my sword and bring it down on Juno’s pet in one swift move. It lay dead on the ground, its head severed from the rest of it. I sat down on a fallen column to catch my breath and to let my wounds heal themselves. I killed it.

You—

He bested the creature, fair and square. Father’s voice came crisp and clear. But if it bothers you, I will restore your pet back to you.

There was a harrumph, barely audible insults. Juno yielded to her husband’s counsel in the end. Very well, She said in a huff. Send him back to me, so he can be restored.

As you command. I closed my eyes and heard a faint hiss. The peacock had vanished, head and all. A golden feather was all that remained. I picked it up for my collection.

Seven minutes left. I wondered what my last challenge would be.

Another piece of parchment fell in front of me.

In the city of water, in the church of Participazio, home of the saint’s relics, you will find the herd of your half-brother.

Oh. The city of water had to be none other than Venice. The church? St. Mark’s Basilica, no doubt. And the herd?

I sighed. Of course, Apollo’s cattle. And probably in miniature figurines, to make it difficult for me to find them.

Six minutes! Apollo called out. You can do this!

Yes. I can do this. I close my eyes and take myself off to Venice.

#Mercury #Roman Gods #roman pantheon #creative writing #writing #writeblr #am writing #a world of whimsy writes #original story

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out-of-context-batfam · 3 years

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Midnighter (2015) #4

#MIDNIGHTER IS UTTERLY SHAMELESS ABOUT HIS LUST FOR GRAYSON IN THIS ISSUE #THEY ARE FIGHTING IN TOWELS... THE HOMOEROTICISM IS OFF THE CHARTS #GODDAMN IT MIDNIGHTER I LOVE YOU SO MUCH #SHOULD APOLLO FEEL THREATENED OR JEALOUS?#dc comics #batfam #batfamily #out of context #midnighter #agent 37 #dick grayson #sexy superspy #lucas trent #funny #dammit dick #he is so shameless #those towels are tied tight #of course he did #800

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write-like-wright · 3 years

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u asked for requests so im here to comply😳could you maybe do a ”should you date them” with the defense attorneys in the series?? or just generally some other characters?? bc the prosecutor one added like 20 years to my lifespan lmao. hope u have a great day!!

I'm so glad you liked it!!! Here's the sequel, just for you <33

Original post here

Should you date them: Ace Attorney defense lawyers edition

Phoenix Wright

yes, you really should

probably one of the best, if not the best, boyfriends in the series

wanna get married? husband material

wanna have kids? father material

has a tendency to casually adopt children actually, could be an issue at some point

worships you

you know how some guys brag about how they'd die for you?

Nick would unironically die for you

may even come close a few times but I'm pretty sure he's canonically invincible (eating poisoned glass and falling off a burning bridge, who?? tis' but a scratch!)

massive gossip

gets home after an investigation and immediately starts like "you won't believe what I found out about Gumshoe today"

somehow surprisingly mature and good at keeping secrets in spite of everything

has a lot of really cool friends!!! and larry

have you seen those shoulders tho?? mans built like a dorito, smashing through massive wooden doors n stuff

biggest monthly expense is hair gel

claims his hair is natural but you know better

don't be the big spoon, he will poke your eyes out

can somewhat read your mind tho? a bit off-putting but ok

marry him before Edgeworth someone else does

Mia Fey

hell yeah, dude

cool, calm, collected

has literal superpowers

successful business owner at 27!!! unironical #girlboss

went from being a lame rookie to a literal legend with her own practice and an apprentice in, like, three years

she's so smart, I fear her

has the fashion sense of a female character drawn by a cis man... oh, wait

god help whoever tries to hurt you

will literally kick their ass to hell

family-oriented

believes in second chances

took phoenix under her wing after everything, mia has the patience of a saint honestly

drops cool oneliners in everyday speech like a marvel character

curve lovers rejoice

doesn't mind being called dorky nicknames

major wife material

Diego Armando/Godot

I already covered him in my prosecutors list,, literally did not occur to me to split Diego and Godot into two lists

but to sum up, if I had to choose between the two, I'd go for Diego

i like my men like i like my coffee - tall, dark and bitter

^^ eats up pickup lines like those

Apollo Justice

Polly is such a sweet babey boy, please be nice to him

short king

low on confidence, makes up for it by being loud

*voice cracking* HE'S FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!

your neighbours will hate him

such a pushover, will do anything you ask of him

sensitive boy, not afraid to cry

pretends not to be dorky - is very dorky

consumes nerdy media almost exclusively (canonically a Whovian! but Capcom can't say that)

bikes everywhere and is apparently good with a hula hoop

Polly got cake is what I'm saying

have you seen his cool street style clothes?? sk8er boi

very grounded, literally

might play around and hold your hand for comfort

won't come to visit you if you live on a high floor, sorry

cat dad!!! cat pics!!! yes!!!

about 7 different tragic backstories

new secret family member drops every week

stares at you when you speak sometimes

is he jealous of Klavier?? does he have a crush on him??? who knows but it's funny watching them interact

bicon

spends way too much time on his hair

someone please date him, he deserves some love

Athena Cykes

holy childhood trauma batman

been through a lot

total empath

if you're sad, she's sad

can kinda read your mind... why is this such a common thing in AA games?? I like my privacy

super energetic

will drag you to the gym, take you on hikes, practice wrestling moves on you...

you will always be sore but also in the best shape of your life

has minus 25 chill

incapable of keeping secrets from you

her weird goth convict uncle threatens you every once in a while

she promises he means it in a friendly way

loves europop

way too accomplished for her age, everyone in this game is so smart, help

i feel like she'd enjoy theme parks idk

date her, she's baby and she needs some TLC

Kristoph Gavin

he's scary

thinks he's better than you

thinks he's better than everyone

has the audacity to wear white shoes with a blue suit??? are you going to prom????? sir????

obsessed with phoenix wright to an alarming degree

perfectly manicured nails!

the kind of guy who warns you never to go into his basement

nice on the outside but it's all fake

deeply rooted issues even he's unaware of

if you like drillbit hair consider Klavier instead

Ryunosuke Naruhodo

world's biggest baby

secretly a bitch

loves to clown on people

fake it till you make it

has no clue what he's doing most of the time

very determined in spite of that

everyone loves him

so many cool friends

cries at the thought of your bare ankles

physically incapable of walking by a shop and not buying something he doesn't need

"look, i got you a gift!!" "awh, how sweet! ...what is it?" "i don't know, i'll ask Mr Sholmes when he gets home!"

good with his tongue

may be somewhat trapped in the closet

has literally zero chill

remember when he just casually chased armed robbers??

must be a family trait

Iris interrogates you about your intentions with her brother

she has a gun

you have no privacy at his place

Sholmes crashes your dates

his bromance with Kazuma sometimes drops the "b"

becomes ultra cool eventually

hop into that time machine and date Ryu's ass, but be prepared to deal with period-appropriate homoeroticism and misogyny lol

Extra little shout out to Kazuma Asogi for that one time where he was a defense lawyer for, like, an hour and a half and somehow managed to cram 50 of the horniest one-liners in the game in that very limited time. Date him.

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney #gyakuten saiban #dai gyakuten saiban #phoenix wright #mia fey #diego armando #apollo justice #athena cykes #kristoph gavin #ryunosuke naruhodo #is that everyone?#hope you like this kajfkjkanjkang #aa ramblings #headcanons #request

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posallys · 4 years

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me writing connabeth headcanons? more likely than you’d think

so we already established that they had puppy crushes on each other, and connor’s never really went away even though annabeth’s did (imma say the end of the summer after tlt/ into the school year around where she started sending pictures of her trips to percy)

connor’s puppy crush was a full blown crush by the time the som summer came to a close, and it always kind of hurt to see her with percy constantly and have him be sidelined, and when she kissed percy’s cheek after the chariot race? his heart shattered

he didn’t blame her though, how could he? it’s not like she knew he liked her.

and really, if percy made her smile like that, who was he to try and take that away?

around the time it became painfully obvious to everyone except percy and annabeth they they liked each other (after ttc ish) there was this daughter of apollo who came to camp and connor and her instantly hit it off. he really liked her and she was a great friend and he started pouring all of his energy into this relationship so his crush on annabeth faded a little and now it was focused on this girl

except connor still does like annabeth, he’s just tricking himself into thinking he doesn’t

he decides during that summer that he’s not going to pursue annabeth because anyone with eyes can see that she is practically in love with percy and he’s in love with her too

he actually ends up dating that other girl for a few months (until botl summer) but his heart isn’t fully in it.

he’s very much in a state of “if we were both single and you asked…” with annabeth

so along comes botl summer

percy’s got rachel now, and connor is very suspicious

its so fucking obvious that he loves annabeth at this point, so why is he hanging around with rachel? connor is like🤔

and annabeth is super upset and won’t really talk to anyone. he can tell she’s started to close herself off from percy too

she finds her way back to connor, and for the majority of that summer the two are inseparable

percy of course notices this when he is at camp and is like “the fuck??”

percy’s not very happy to say the least. he doesn’t really understand why annabeth is shutting him out because obviously rachel is one of his closer friends and he’s been hanging out with her just because he needed a break from all the chaos at camp (and seeing annabeth so much reminds him that he’s going to have this prophecy hanging over his head in about a year and it hurts to think that something could happen to him and he’d never get to see her again, so in his head if he starts detaching himself now it won’t hurt as bad)

but percy doesn’t like rachel. she’s a great friend and that’s all he sees her as because he’s so infatuated with annabeth

annabeth obviously thinks that him and rachel are a thing and it pains her to see him with someone who isn’t her, but if he’s going to spend his last year with someone who makes him happy (someone who isn’t her), she guesses she’ll be able to live with it. all she really wants is for him to be happy.

there’s a lot of tension between the four of them (annabeth&rachel, percy&connor, annabeth&percy) and specifically with p, a, and c at camp.

everyone is basically watching the three of them all summer like: 👀🔍🔍

there’s this one day where annabeth walks up to connor (he’s playing volleyball or something) and grabs his arm and just drags him with her

she ends up pulling her with him to the strawberry fields and she turns to face him (she hasn’t said a word to him since she started pulling him with her, let alone looked at him) and her eyes are glassed over and tears are threatening to spill. her cheeks are red and she looks so broken and all connor can think about is how he was going to seriously fuck up whoever did that to her.

she doesn’t say anything but she starts crying and throws herself at him and buries her head in his shoulder

he moves to sit down and he sits there and holds her and rubs her back and plays with the ends of her hair while she cries and his heart hurts for her even though he’s not sure what’s wrong yet.

eventually she lifts her head and she’s sniffling and definitely got snot on his shirt and her eyes are puffy and he asks her a silent question with his eyes and she takes a deep breath and sighs heavily

eventually when she’s ready to talk she tells him that she iris messaged percy to find out if he was coming back to camp that night and to tell him that if he was he was going to be on her capture the flag team, but apparently he was with rachel and didn’t realized that she had called.

all annabeth heard was “…needed to get away from Annabeth. I didn’t–” and that was enough for her. she immediately ended the call and went to go find connor because she didn’t want to be alone

what annabeth didn’t hear is that percy was actually telling rachel that it was just super hard to be around her knowing that he might not make it through next year

annabeth and connor spend a few hours just sitting in the field talking about whatever, and they’re too caught up in their feelings of nostalgia because it’s been ages since they’ve sat down and had a lengthy conversation and they skip dinner.

the sun is setting and it’s almost time for capture the flag (which percy was in fact coming back to camp for) and the two of them were still in the field, except now they’re both lying on the ground looking up at the stars and connor is pointing out some of the constellations that him and annabeth learned together and annabeth is tucked into his side, her head on that spot right between his chest and his arm, and the arm her head is half on is also slightly wrapped around her shoulder

the two of them have every intention to stay out there and skip capture the flag, but then they hear a familiar voice calling out annabeth’s name as he walks through the field

“Annabeth? Capture the flag is getting ready to start. I was told to come…find you”

the first thing percy feels is jealousy because he can’t count how many times him and annabeth have gone out to the field to look at the stars together the same ones she’s looking at with someone who’s not him

by the time either of them register what’s happening percy is standing 20 yards away and staring at the two of them, annabeth still tucked into connor’s side.

annabeth sits up as quick as she can but part of her was telling her to just stay where she was. the other part (the one that’s in love with him) was saying that she should hurry up and try to make up a story about what was happening

she’s mad at percy right now anyway, so why should she explain anything to him? as far as she knows, he didn’t want to be around her. so why does she feel so guilty?

maybe it’s because the look on his face is enough to break her heart

she stands up and brushes the grass from her legs and connor stands up beside her. she swears she catches percy glaring at him out of the corner of her eye, but when she looks back at him it’s gone and a smile (that looks awfully fake) has replaced whatever she thinks she saw.

“thank you for telling us” she says

connor doesn’t really have an expression on his face when he says “yeah, thanks. let’s go get ready, Chasey” and he grabs her hand and pulls her back towards the dining pavilion.

percy is just standing in the field trying to process what just happened because why the fuck is annabeth with connor? are they together? did she not tell percy?

percy’s not an idiot, he knows connor likes annabeth (so does everyone except annabeth)

hell, connor liked annabeth before percy ever came to camp, and he knows they were best friends before he took that spot, so why is he so jealous? he hangs out with rachel all the time even though annabeth is his best friend, why is the two of them hanging out any different?

maybe it’s because annabeth never cuddled up to percy like that while they watched the stars

both the hermes cabin and athena cabin are on the same team for capture the flag, and obviously percy is on annabeth’s team.

percy definitely didn’t accidentally soak connor while he was jumping over the creek.

he’s not sure why he did it, all he knows is that he saw connor and instantly got angry. he’s not even really sure if he did it or if the water was simply responding to his anger.

flash forward a few weeks and percy is hanging out with rachel even more so in turn annabeth is spending even more time with connor

the two of them are closer than they’ve been in years and annabeth is super confused about her feelings because she likes percy, but percy isn’t the one who’s there for her right now. percy is chosing rachel over her (keeping in mind annabeth still doesn’t know the real reason percy is avoiding her), but connor? connor is there and he’s giving her his undivided attention and it feels good to have someone acknowledging her.

meanwhile percy is battling with his own feelings because after the labyrinth he was beginning to think that annabeth liked him (since she seemed super jealous of rachel and also she kissed him and also because beckendorf was like 😏😏)

but maybe she doesn’t? maybe she likes connor and doesn’t think of him as anything more than her best friend (although it’s beginning to feel more like ex best friend)

beckendorf finally talks some sense into him and says that he knows of like 4 people who like annabeth and that silena told him annabeth likes percy ( “and she kissed you? dude, she likes you. I don’t know what else you need, Perce”), and that if percy doesn’t do something about it soon he might not get his chance with annabeth.

percy decides that he’s going to talk to annabeth that night at one of travis’ secret only-the-campers-that-matter parties.

when he shows up he immediatly registers that there’s alcohol (obviously, there always is, he expected it) but what he didn’t expect was annabeth to be drinking.

annabeth never drank at them before, why is she now?

percy wonders if she was doing it for him, come to think of it. he remembers telling her about gabe and how she didn’t press but he also remembers the look on her face when he told her about how sometimes it made him uncomfortable, especially at these parties, and just maybe she was trying to make him feel more comfortable

he also didn’t expect to see connor’s arm thrown over her shoulder and her leaning into him (way too similar to how charles and silena were sitting for him to like)

when annabeth tilts her head up and kisses connor on the jaw, something in percy’s chest snaps.

he doesn’t think anyone noticed that he was there yet, so he turns to leave because he can’t do this right now. he was here to tell her how he felt and she’s acting awfully couple-y with fucking connor and suddenly that night he found them in the strawberry field comes rushing back and he wants to scream because charles told him to tell her and he didn’t and now annabeth is with connor and he fucking blew it and he’s never going to get the chance to tell her now because she’s with fucking connor and he also feels horrible because he’s supposed to be her best friend and she would have told him if she liked someone, right? how bad did he fuck up if annabeth isn’t talking to him?

“hey, percy! come join us!”

“fuck. hey guys!”

annabeth and connor untangled themselves and annabeth moved over and there was definitely enough room for him to sit beside her (more importantly in between them) and he always sat with her but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it if she starts looking through him to see connor or if she stops paying attention to him because connor started talking

he sits as far away from the two of them as possible and he tries super hard to not look at them but occasionally is eyes find their way over to her

she looks kind of nervous and he’s not really sure why

connor is just sitting there and he has a sort of confused look

percy is 99% sure he either looks pissed as hell or extremely sad

connor doesn’t really know what to make of it because you could cut the air with a knife right now. he really wants to move closer to annabeth and put his arm back around her because she was warm and her hair smelled good and it was annabeth and he definitely wants her to kiss him again, but this time not on his jaw

but at the same time he can’t help but look at annabeth and feel guilty for wanting that. he knows her well enough to know how she’s feeling, and right now she’s giving him scared vibes and she looks really uncomfortable

he also feels bad because he knows she likes percy

he knows

she’s told him

but here he is, and there she is, acting like she never told him that on their walk down at the beach while percy was missing.

annabeth is definitely confused because she knows she likes percy

she kissed him, obviously she likes him

but she thinks he likes rachel and she wants him to be happy

so she started getting closer to connor and now all of a sudden percy seems angry? jealous? he hasn’t said a word to her since he got to the party and he won’t look her in the eye.

they do make eye contact once and his eyes look so broken and her heart feels heavy

she doesn’t know how to cope with her feelings though, and connors there so she pushes whatever feelings she has for percy onto connor (basically what connor did with that daughter of apollo i mentioned)

there’s this one night a few weeks later where they’re both drunk from one of those parties and percy is off with rachel and annabeth just needs a distraction because all she wants is her percy back

she misses him so much and it hurts because she knows that this is their last summer together and next year the prophecy is going to be on top of them and they’re going to be fighting for their lives and there’s a good chance one or both of them aren’t going to make it back alive.

anyway they’ve both been drinking and connor is right there and annabeth is confused and wants percy somebody to love her and so her and connor sneak off to the woods and they end up making out and maybe his hands slip under her shirt and maybe her hands go up to tug on his hair while he presses her back against the tree and maybe their kisses are a little too rough and maybe she wakes up the next morning with a bruise along her collar bone and overwhelming guilt weighing her down

and connor can’t keep doing this

he loves annabeth, he really really does.

but he heard charlie whispering to silena the same night they sneaked off about how percy was telling him that he doesn’t know what to do about annabeth. about how rachel keeps telling him that he just needs to tell her because she’s sick of hearing him mope around about how annabeth barely talks to him anymore and how she’s always with connor and he thinks the two of them are dating and connor feels horrible

connor likes percy. it’s never been about him not liking percy. the two of them got along great, as long as annabeth wasn’t around.

there’s just something about the fact that she came crying to him about percy that sat with him wrong

but he knows that annabeth likes him, and obviously knows that percy likes her

and he can’t do that to her

he can’t let her run herself into the ground because she’s losing percy to rachel when she’s really not.

so he tells her that he can’t keep doing stuff like that with her

he doesn’t tell her why specifically, just that he knows she loves likes percy and that he doesn’t think it’s fair to either of them to keep doing it when she doesn’t like him like that.

it hurts and he doesn’t know whether to feel good about his choice or not

connor never really stops loving annabeth, but it shifts from being split platonically and romantically to being completely platonic by the time percy and annabeth actually get their shit together and start dating

he’s constantly pushing her to tell him the summer leading up the the battle of manhattan because percy’s birthday is coming up and they both know that he might not live through it and is she’s going to do something about it she has to do it now because the clock is ticking

once connor and annabeth stop doing the borderline couple-y stuff, the tension eases between percy and annabeth and connor feels good about making that choice for the first time

and everyone is watching percy and annabeth that summer and they all can see how they’re moving into a more than best friends state but neither of them want to bring it up

and when percy says “don’t I get a kiss for luck, it’s kind of a tradition, right?” connor makes sure catch her eye and wink before going off with travis.

and connor is the one that suggests annabeth makes percy a cupcake for his birthday, and he totally gives her shit until she agrees to tell percy how she feels because the war is over and they’re both still alive and she’s put it off this long and is she puts it off any longer connor is going to take matters into his own hands

“oh my gods, you wouldn’t”

“really? you don’t think i would?”

“connor.”

“annabeth.”

“…fine i’ll tell him…”

and connor feels really good when percy and annabeth finally kiss and him and travis are there to throw them in the lake

he’s really happy that his best friend is happy, and he thinks that it was always supposed to be this way, and maybe there was a reason she would fall for the son of her mom’s rival.

connor thinks it makes more sense this way, and he’s happy with how everything worked out for the three of them.

let me just tag the nation here 😌💕

@connabeth @spookyannabeth @riptide-anaklusmoss @eggplant-avenger @spookyperce @greekgrad07 @hallowannie

#connabeth #connabeth nation #pjo #percabeth #jealous percy #ash tag #erica tag #sarah tag #annie tag #sophi tag #kayla tag #marisa tag #3.2k of connabeth #i didnt read over it so have some word vomit :)

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solange-lol · 3 years

Text

i already know it (i’ll probably blow it)

words: 1,725

read on ao3

—

Camp Half-Blood Thanksgiving was a new tradition, only started after the war with Gaea when demigod lives weren’t as threatened, (keyword being as.)

Even while it was safe for more demigods to go home, some still chose to stay at camp year-round, or, in the case of Nico, they didn’t have anywhere to go. Thanksgiving in the Underworld could be interesting, but to be honest, the son of Hades was sort of trying to avoid undead beings for a little while.

“Everybody gather around,” Malcolm Pace, head of the Athena cabin after Annabeth left, calls. The rest of the counselors swarmed him as he began to hand out food assignments.

They had decided the best method of going about this was letting the head counselors of every cabin take over one section with Chiron’s aid and supervision. They were just a group of teenagers after all, and what do teenagers know about making group meals for a bunch of campers?

Not much, as it became abundantly clear to Nico as he stands cluelessly in the kitchen of the Big House.

“Nico, you’re on dessert with Drew and Clovis,” Malcolm informs him, steering him in the direction of the two, who are already peeling apples (Drew was peeling apples, Clovis seemed to have given up after one in favor of a quick nap.)

They were also sitting right next to one Will Solace, who was busy peeling potatoes and laughing at whatever Drew just said.

He hesitantly joined the two, trying his best not to make direct eye contact with the son of Apollo. Ever since his three days in the infirmary after the war took place, Nico didn’t know where they were going to go.

The answer was nowhere, apparently, as Will has made no attempt to ask him out since then.

“Why don’t you ask him out, then?” Jason had asked him when he was packing up his stuff from the summer as Nico complained to him. He had found that Jason was the only person with who he actually felt comfortable discussing his more-or-less crush on Will ever since the incident with Cupid.

“Because how am I supposed to know he’s not just like this with everyone? He’s crazy protective like that with everyone; I’m just waiting for him to at least give me a sign that he likes me too.”

Jason had just rolled his eyes. “I think you both are crazy oblivious.”

Nico crossed his arms. “Just because you have a girlfriend doesn’t mean you're the love expert.”

“Then why did you come to me?”

(Said girlfriend later broke up with him, but it’s not like Nico had made any progress anyway, so who cares.)

How was Nico even supposed to know what he wanted with Will anyway? He’d never been in a relationship before, and none of his crushes ever stemmed past more than, well, a crush.

He wishes Annabeth were still here. When it came to crushes on oblivious guys, she was an expert. Nico still doesn’t know how she did it.

“Hey, di Angelo, are you gonna help us with dessert, or should we just watch you stare at Solace all day?” Drew asks, dumping the apple mixture (how did she make that so quickly?) into the pie crust.

When he snaps back, glancing up at her and trying to ignore both Will’s eyes on him and the heat rising in his neck, she just snorts at him. “Wanna get started melting marshmallows for Rice Krispie Treats?”

He nods, and she takes the bag the Clovis had just been using as a pillow out from under his head and hands it to him.

Nico glances at it. “What do I do with this?”

“Mix it with half a stick of butter and pop it in the microwave,” she tells him. Nico follows instinct after that from what little cooking knowledge he has from growing up with Bianca.

As he stands back at the microwave, he can’t help but watch Will, rattling off reasons why his body had subjected him to have a crush on another boy way out of his league. Tall, blonde, blue eyes, assertive, but also nice, could probably carry him, and dumb as rocks.

“Invested in the mashed potatoes?” Will asks, once again snapping Nico out of his train of thought. He holds up a mostly-peeled potato. “Am I up to your standards?”

Instinctively, he straightens his back, playing along. “My Italian mother would cry at that potato,” he informs Will. Behind him, the microwave beeps, signaling its end, but Nico ignores it.

Will just laughs, shaking his head, and Nico continues. “Lucky for you, I don’t have much of a memory from Italy, so it’ll pass.”

“Thank god, you had me worried.”

Before he can say something else, Drew interrupts. “Are you going to get out the marshmallows before they solidify?” she asks him, then holds out a spoonful of some dessert for Will to try.

Nico sighs, turning back to the microwave and opening the door. He can’t tell if he’s jealous, or just frustrated about his first interaction with Will in a while has been cut short. There was that whole thing with Drew, too. He didn’t know what was between the two of them, and frankly, he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to know.

“Oh, and be careful, it’s hot!-” Drew warned last minute, but it was too late.

Nico grabs the bowl full-hands on, then immediately squeaks and drops the bowl on the floor with a clatter, the burn already settling into his hand.

Drew glances down at the buttery-marshmallow mess on the floor. “Couldn’t have even aimed for the counter?”

Meanwhile, Will stands up from potato duty, offering a hand out to Nico. “Alright, to the infirmary with you.”

He rolls his eyes, accepting it with his good hand and trying to ignore the way his other one feels like it’s burning off. Together, they exit the infirmary and make their way over to the infirmary next door.

Kayla is already set up for her shift, but as soon as she notices Will’s hand in Nico’s, she just nods them off to the back.

“I guess you don’t cook much?” Will asks once Nico is finally sat down.

“Never really had a reason to, I guess. Coach did all of the cooking when I was traveling with him and Reyna,” Nico explains as Will takes out some cream, tugging Nico’s hand forward so he can lay it on. He seems surprised when Nico barely flinches at it

“Usually Silvadene gets a scream out of campers,” he says, putting away the ointment and begins to wrap Nico’s hand.

“I think you're forgetting I got clawed by a werewolf” Nico reminds him, and Will shudders.

“Oh, no, I remember. Those were a nightmare to heal. Thank gods for nectar and ambrosia,” he says, then reaches behind him to a drawer, pulling out the godly food. “Speaking of which-”

He takes the small square, taking a bite out of the corner “Thanks.”

“What does it taste like for you?”

“Rice Krispie Treats.” Nico deadpans.

Will’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“No,” he snorts, and Will rolls his eyes, laughing lightly. Nico doesn’t know if it’s the sound or the ambrosia that makes his stomach warm.

Will stands up from his seat in front of the bed, putting away materials. He then reaches for Nico’s good hand again and pulls him up. “Well, anyway, you didn’t have to throw a bowl of marshmallow mix on the floor just to get my attention.”

Nico ignores his suddenly-flaming cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he tries to force out smoothly. His voice cracks a bit, and Will's lips twitch upwards. “I really did burn myself.”

“I know, but I could see you watching me.”

He swallows. “You could?” (He’s faced monsters, titans, gods, even Tartarus, but one cocky son of Apollo makes him suddenly lose all his chill?)

“Di Angelo, you are as obvious as I am oblivious. It took Drew telling me to notice, but once I did, I couldn’t stop,” he says, tugging Nico a little bit closer.

The son of Hades leans back a bit, trying to push away the skeletal butterflies in his stomach. “Are you two a thing? You seem awfully close.”

Will raises his eyebrows, and an amused smile on his lips as he pulls Nico even closer. The back of his legs are pressed against the bed, and with a good six inches on him, Will is towering over him.

“Well considering she’s gay and I’m into you, I would hope not,” he says quietly, wrapping one arm around Nico’s waist as he leans down.

“Oh.” Oh.

His face closes in towards Nico’s, so close that his heart is pounding as he waits for Will’s lips to reach his. (Nico could lean forward and speed up the process, but his entire body seems to be frozen in some emotion he can’t quite name yet.)

Just when their lips are inches apart, Will stops. “Can I kiss you?” he mumbles practically against them.

“Please,” Nico responds, and then there they are.

He’s never kissed anybody before. He doesn’t know if Will has, but he’s doing a bit better than Nico. It’s a little messy, and there are no fireworks like in the movies, but it’s with Will, and that’s all he can really ask for at any point.

Will’s hand tugs Nico’s waist closer to him as he tilts his head, and oh. He loses himself in the sensation as Will drops Nico’s hand, letting it move up Nico’s arm to his neck, and then into his hair.

Nico sighs into his mouth. Out of instinct, he put both hands on the back of Will’s neck, trying to pull him closer.

The sudden pressure on his hand makes him wince and step back. He would have tripped backward on the infirmary bed if it wasn’t for Will immediately grabbing his waist, keeping him steady.

“You okay?” he asks, slightly breathless, and the butterflies return to Nico’s stomach.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Do you think you can give me some more of that ambrosia? I need my hand to heal so we can keep doing that.”

Will smiles like he can’t help it, placing a kiss on Nico’s cheek before reaching into the drawer again.

—

solangelo tag list (message/ask to be added removed)

@unicornsgomooo @anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt @hetapeep41 @blavk-dahlia

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pjo #heros of olympus #my writing #mine #liz writes.com

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image-thot · 3 years

Text

A Song of the Gods- Chapter 3

“Alright, I will marry him.” She said in defeat. Heras tone changes completely from menacing to happy in a mere second.

“Oh, I just knew you would, but don't fret my dear,” she said as she lightly embraced Alyx. “Your wedding ceremony won't actually take place for another six weeks; this will give you and Ares time to adjust to your new linked lives.”

Hera nearly let out a giggle in the thought of it. “Now you go run along.” she waved her hand dismissively as Alyx went to leave.

“One more thing, should I or Ares catch you and Hermes being too overly friendly, there will be server consequences.” She said with a smirk as Alyx made her way out of the garden.

She tried desperately to stop the hot tears from spilling down her face as she made her way quickly back to her chambers. She desperately wanted the company of her beloved Hermes but knowing that it could cause him harm, she was not sure if she should seek him out.

She slipped into her chambers closing the doors behind, the tears starting to roll down her face. The voice of Hermes cut through the barrage of thoughts causing her to freeze.

“Ah, you've returned my love! I have already drawn us a bath, to relieve you of whatever stress Hera has Caus-” As Hermes rounded the corner from the private bath to the main room, he could immediately see and feel something was wrong and within a heartbeat, he had her wrapped in his arms.

After a few seconds of her crying into his tunic, he slightly parted from her to assess whether there was any physical wounded to her. If the circumstance were any different, she would have commented on how cute he looked right then and there.

“My love, what has Hera done to you.” Hermes question bringing his forehead to rest on hers in an attempt to comfort her. “Has she caused any injuries of the mind or-”

“She has commanded me to wed Ares.” She says as tears fall down her cheeks as she looks away from him. “If I refused, she would have killed you and-”

“Tell me you didn’t accept this!?” Hermes almost shouted at her. “I would have fought all the gods here in Olympus if it meant I would be with you.”

“I had no choices...” she whispered out; Hermes started to carefully wipe away her tears.

“Sshh, I hate to see you cry. I’m sure we can work something out; they can’t see everything.” Hermes chuckle to attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hera said that if she or Ares caught us together, she would do more than just kill you.” Alyx moves away from Hermes and turns her back to him. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“I would take a thousand swords for you and you know that.” He made his way to hug her, he nuzzled into the side of her neck. “You know this, I would only assume that she threatened to bring him into this.”

Alyx could only nod, she wishes she could have stood up to Hera and defended her right to choose who she married or bed. She felt so useful and an utter fool, she closed her eyes to try and calm herself. That is when she heard it, the sound of heavy feet and armour making their way down the halls. She knew it would have to be Ares, her eyes open in shock as she turns around and starts to push Hermes towards the window.

“What are you do-” a startled Hermes says as he is quickly interrupted by Alyx.

“It’s Ares, I can hear him coming! You have to leave now! Or Hera will have our heads.” She said in a hushed voice as Hermes nods in understanding, he places a kiss atop her forehead.

“I will do everything in my power to try and prevent this sham marriage from coming to be.” He said climbing onto the window ledge. “I shall for you return later My love.”

With that Hermes skilfully jumped from the window and into the garden below and without a second to spare as the loud knocks of the War god could be heard. Though she almost drowns them out by simply watching Hermes rum towards the next set of buildings. If it weren’t for the second round of loud knocks at the door would have continued to watch him.

She slowly made her way to the doors, reaching for the handles she pulls the door back to reveal a rather stern-looking Ares.

It would have been obvious to any of the gods that she had been crying, her slightly puffy eyes and wet cheeks clear giveaways to her feelings at the time. Unfortunately, Ares either chooses to ignore this or is too oblivious by his own lack of emotion aside from rage to even comprehend the thought.

“What do you want Ares? I’m not particularly seeking your company now.” She tried to contain her voice.

“Well I thought we should spend some time together, may I come in?” Ares stated and looked past her noticing the open window. He knew who was once in this room but wanting to start this on the right foot he waited for her to invite him into her chambers.

“Why would I want to do that? ” She starts to close the door on him, which only results in a larger hand stopping the door's movement before pushing it back open. This silently startled Alyx, all though Ares is an aggressive man never had she made him so angry that he would force his way into her room. She had seen him do it to Apollo, but never to her or his half-sisters. She allowed the door to opened as she moved away and towards the lounging and sitting chairs.

“As your future husband, it’s important that we have a good understanding of one another. I’m also aware that we of late, haven’t spent a great deal of time together.” She wanted to laugh at that as she sat down, she had not spoken to him since the last harvest festival which wasn’t really speaking more so him being so drunk actually interacted with Apollo, Hermes and her. “As I am fairly certain you don’t partake in the fighting ring.” He says taking a seat opposite her.

“I still partake, though obviously not enough to get to your brothers’ level.” She says with a clear tone of annoyance present in her voice.

“I just thought you had enough after the giants…” Ares spoke trailing off to look over her body. Alyx held a glare at Ares as she shifted her body to glance out the window, she did not want to listen to his small talk any longer.

“What do you really want Ares?” She turned to glare at the man who half-heartedly glared at her. “If this is a petty way at getting some sort of revenge against-” She started to yell at him before he cut her off with a loud booming voice.

“If this was about that bastard Hermes, I would of beat him to a mere inch of his life taken you inforont of the bastard until there is nothing left of you but a whimpering pile of bloody flesh!” he shouted at her coming to a stand in front of her. She was shocked by his sudden outburst, though she was prepared to defend herself as she made a glance towards her staff then looked back up to Ares who's gaze softened as he knelt in front of her. “But I do not want that, I want you. I want something that would make all other gods jealous” he gently says to her while taking her hands. “We could be that I want us to be that.”

“That would require mutual feelings,” she says removing her hands from his. “Which we do not have.”

“Yet,” he said with a sigh standing and turning around. “You’ve spent almost our whole lives giving Hermes and Apollo all of your attention, you don't know what you could have if you to only see two people.”

“I knew it!” She shouted standing up “this is because of your Jealousy! Because you want something you cannot have! So what? You go to your mother and b-” A loud slap echoed off the walls of the room and dangerous red eyes glared a shocked violet and blue ones.

“If you ever talk like that to me again, I’ll-” he was cut off by the sudden sound of Alyx voice almost going into a scream as her eyes gave him a glowing glare.

“Unless you want to lose that fucking hand of yours, Get then fuck out now!” Ares glared at her but did not say anything as he walked to the door.

“I expect you to meet me in arena gardens for dinner,” he said gruffly before leaving the room slamming the door behind him.

As her eyes stopped glowing, she brought her hand up to rub the cheek where Ares had struck. Although the pain to her cheek had quickly faded the pain that was still fresh in her heart seem to only continue to grow.

#apollo #blood of zeus #hermes #hera #zeus #ares #orginal character #oc x canon #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #fluff #tense #fuck sake #idk ho

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littlesparklight · 4 years

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This is both a list of the seven main goddesses Zeus’ marries or is otherwise involved with and some short worldbuilding thoughts, more as an aid for my fic writing than anything else. The details are thus my own interpretations, though I follow the order they were with Zeus as Hesiod gives it and the children they get together!

Metis is first. He meets her before the Titanomachy; Rhea brings her along as a second mind to help plan the eventual coup as she starts daring to visit him more directly the older he gets and might actually be able to fight his father. They get involved and are married through the war, but shortly after that whole Thing goes down and Metis is gone. He was young, it was half desperation, half impetuous action born out of aggressive (perceived self-)defense and confusion.

Themis is second. She is perhaps as much rebound as an attempt at legitimacy (a king should have a wife), but it works out surprisingly well. They mesh beyond just any sexual attraction. As much as they do like each other, however, they don't last, though she's still second in terms of length. They work better as friends and confidantes without the bond and expectation "wife and husband" imparts on their relationship, it just takes time for them to get there to realize that (Themis does not like the cheating, but she immediately susses out why it keeps happening and that it has nothing to do with her and their relationship, so it's the lesser reason for the eventual divorce). The Horai (Dike, Eunomia, Eirene, also called Thallo, Auxo and Carpo, are the keepers of the gates of Olympos) and three nymph daughters (they care for some of the divine artifacts) are his oldest legitimate children.

Eurynome is third. They lasted as long as it took for her youngest (Pasithea) to reach three before she decided she wasn't Up For This. Mostly because when she did approach him (and she approached him first, though made sure Zeus worked up to seduction/courting by himself, so it appeared to be from his initiation), it was intended as a way to get back at Rhea (and Kronos) for being dethroned. She ended up caring enough about Zeus that she knew it wasn't right for either of them, so, unable to continue her attempted revenge, broke things off to go back to her parents. They have three daughters, Aglaia/Charis, Thalia and Pasithea. (-Taking the Oceanid Eurynome as the same as the Eurynome and Titan Ophion who briefly ruled from Olympos before Rhea and Kronos got rid of them; it's a brief scrap of myth that I found rather interesting, and you can use it to add some substance and character and motivation to Eurynome.)

Demeter is fourth. She wasn't really interested in marriage - and they don't precisely marry even after some wooing which involved a bride kidnapping (half as a joke honestly and she didn't take it seriously, especially when it ended like a couple miles away in a meadow, not on Olympos, which she... partially lives at anyway); they had a lot of fun, but exactly because of that Demeter realized she Super Wasn't Interested in making it official. It had less to do with Zeus as a person and more the fact that she just didn't want to marry, or be the queen, or have to have a family in the way you were supposed to when it comes to marriage. Neither knew about her pregnancy with Persephone yet when Demeter put her foot down, and Zeus was relieved this time when the child turned out to be a daughter and not a/his first son.

Mnemosyne is fifth. They lasted for a while (Zeus divorced her when Leto caught his interest), the longest after Themis (third after he marries Hera) and while the nine children he got by her are of course loved, nine is a lot for not getting a single son. It's Zeus' greatest reason for divorce when it comes to Mnemosyne, but they were both in agreement here on top of the fact she was very disenchanted with his cheating and didn't take it as laconically as Themis did.

Leto is sixth. Zeus pursues Hera at the same time (who keeps denying him) as he's involved with Leto, and while he doesn't marry her, he keeps being involved with her, which pisses Hera off and makes her feel both insulted as well as threatened as she picks up on the change in the flow, the possibility of changing order, as Leto becomes pregnant. That has Hera both extremely jealous (the chance Leto is pregnant with a son to induce such a change is very possible, after all) and insulted Zeus is still insisting with her, so she harries Leto throughout her pregnancy and especially close to labour in a fit of partially misplaced anger. Zeus only gives up on Leto shortly after Artemis and Apollo is born. (Leto is, honestly, relieved, for she wouldn't have done well as Queen, but would also not have taken steps for divorce herself if they had actually married.) (-I took quite a bit of freedom with the order of events/reasons etc, for trying to set Leto as coming before Hera as Hesiod says she does makes lots of trouble with how Leto’s actual pregnancy myth goes, so while she’s still harried, obviously, people who aren’t born yet aren’t involved (Ares, most notably, haha). I’m simply prioritising the order she comes in above anything else, here.)

Hera is seventh. A mix of persistence and, finally, Zeus humbling himself as much as he tricks her, for the transformation into a cuckoo does last for a whole Great Year. Not that he keeps it for that whole time, but he keeps up the pretense for that long, with Themis' help as needed. It ends up doing what he hopes as it endears him to her, so when he reveals himself, Hera is surprised and charmed he stayed something so cute and harmless for such a length of time, and is convinced (as well as for her own ambition) to marry him.

#zeus #hera #themis #leto #metis #mnemosyne #demeter #eurynome #lightart

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bookplush · 4 years

Note

Make another au. Do it.

oh? did you just give me free reign to talk about all my random aus? no? well i’m gonna do it anyways

i have a lighthouse keeper nico / merman will fic in drafts rn, the first part of it is basically finished but i wasn’t sure if i should post it because like i’m never gonna continue it. also i just started thinking about my zeus!nico hermes!will poseidon!jason hades!percy apollo!annabeth etc etc au and just nico having an astronauts phase when he was little instead of a pirates phase makes my heart go 💗💘💞💓 thinking about little baby nico with a spacesuit helmet on, just like wearing it out to the grocery store and like when he goes out to play with the neighborhood kids just bc he likes space,,,, so cute. i am literally Always thinking about a reynabeth college au, i planned a fic which focused on reynabeth, jasper, and solangelo in college together and they pair up over time and shenanigans happen and yeah. i made little sketches of all their apartments throughout the years because i love to do everything relating to my ideas except actually write them. and i have The AU: the percibros au. where percy and nico are mortals and sally took nico in after bianca died so now percy and nico are brothers. i have many many many variations on this au bc i love it so much but the most recent one i was thinking about involved nico being flirted with as a dare at a party (both to humiliate him and to make will jealous because the mean kids love messing with both of them) and nico being embarrassed and escaping to the back porch of the house the house party is at. and percy chewing out the bullies and threatening them to never go near his brother again and making them all feel hella guilty and being a protective big bro! and will goes to the back porch and talks with nico for literally hours and they’re cute. and then percy drives will home to be nice and then immediately teases nico about will the instant will steps out of the car. also in that au i wrote a little miniscene of jason coming out to nico as bi and admitting his crush on him because i’ve been thinking a lot about unrequited jasico recently.

sorry for that big dump! i never talk about my aus because i keep telling myself i’ll finish writing them so i should save it for when i write them but. who am i kidding i’ll never write them.

if anyone wants me to elaborate on any of those ideas PLEASE ask me i WILL talk about them as soon as anyone asks

thank u for the nice ask friend!! ily

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demonsonthemoon · 4 years

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Sunkissed, Sunburnt, Soothed

Fandom: Les Misérables Pairings: platonic Jehan & Grantaire, romantic Grantaire/Enjolras Word Count: 2607 Summary: "The first time Grantaire met Enjolras, he felt for a second like he was going blind. Meeting Jehan had been far less dramatic." Or: the story of not-so-healthy relationships, what they give and what they take, the ways they have of being too much and of being not enough. (Featuring Aromantic!Jehan) Note: Dedicated to my friend Caro (@anastasiapullingteeth), forever the Grantaire to my Jehan and a star in my constellation. This fic was a bit rushed to I could put it out in time for #AggressivelyArospecWeek. I definitely feel like the concept deserves a far longer exploration than I gave it here. Also I have no idea whether the POV and style shifts actually work. Do the paragraph breaks work??? I don't know. I just didn't want to think of how to fix them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and don't hesitate to let me know what you thought!

Read it on AO3.

The first time Grantaire met Enjolras, he felt for a second like he was going blind. Like he had just stared at the sun and was about to pay for it. Like the other was a new version of Medusa, turning people to ashes instead of stone.

To be fair, the whole experience may have had something to do with the fact that Grantaire had been well on his way to drunk at the time. Although that didn't explain the continued feeling of being on fire everytime Enjolras looked at him.

Meeting Jehan had been far less dramatic. If Enjolras was the threatening light of the sun faced head on, Jehan was a soft beam peeking above a cloud. He didn't command attention, instead drew it gently with patterned tights, pastel-colored skinny jeans and chunky cable-knit sweaters. Grantaire had taken one look at him and decided he wanted to befriend him. It had something to do with the way Jehan had kept half of his hands hidden in his sleeves, the way his smile had seemed just that little bit uncertain before he let himself be drawn into conversation by Courfeyrac and Bahorel.

Enjolras was so beautiful to look at it often seemed painful. Jehan was a mess of clashing color and haphazard hairstyle, and he was so real it made Grantaire's bones sing.

He had been drunk the first time he had met Enjolras, the first time he had witnessed one of their little meetings from a hidden corner of the Musain. He had been drunk the second time too. Part of his brain had convinced him that the angel, the burning god, would not be there if he came back sober. Part of him had been too scared to face that kind of passion without the flimsy protection of alcohol. Part of him had just been looking for any excuse he could get.

He'd been sober when he'd met Jehan. The young man had joined the group of revolutionaries after Grantaire, although he had been accepted as a friend much more easily. Grantaire hadn't been jealous of that. He could admit he had never made it particularly easy for the other to find him likeable.

Smart people do not bare their skin to the sun at its zenith. They put on a hat instead.

But Jehan had looked past the wide brim of his, had spotted the freckles hiding on Grantaire's nose and had offered to kiss them.

The young man was free with his affection, in that he thought that love should be free. Free to roam and explore, free from the shackles of expectation and propriety. He was free with his love, because he had been told once he could not love right. He had then decided that if he couldn't do it right, at least he would love a lot. Even if it wasn't enough, it would make the world just a little kinder.

Grantaire hadn't ever thought he was able to love in a way that didn't destroy. He had loved laughter once, until laughter had turned into the price he paid for attention. He had loved learning, until learning became the thing he did to prove his parents he was still worth something. He had loved people, and the people had turned into bottles, so fragile between his fingers.

He had loved art. It was the one thing he had managed to renounce before it turned into a blade.

He loved Enjolras.

The truth of that was a block of ice constantly floating around his stomach. It was the kind of cold that burned, and numbed all other feelings at the same time.

Jehan loved him. Not like ice, and not like fire. Not like one romantic lead loved another in all the novels he read.

He loved him all the same.

And Grantaire loved him back, in a way that – for once – didn't feel dangerous. Jehan was the wick of a candle instead of a forest. Sometimes Grantaire resented him for it. Most of the time he was relieved.

They moved in together one day. It made sense for a lot of reasons. Mostly because it was cheaper. But also because they could be there for each other more easily this way. They could keep each other accountable. Keep each other standing. They could promise each other the warmth of another body when they came home.

When one of them offered to share a bed and turn the second bedroom into an art room, it made sense too. So much so that neither of them remembered who came up with the idea in the first place.

It was good. It was nice. In the way that drinking hot chocolate under a blanket while watching the rain outside was nice. It wasn't the same as lazing in the sun, but it was comforting in its own way.

Grantaire hadn't felt like he needed anything else. The grey weather was what he knew, and he would make the best of it. There was a voice in his mind, like the rumbling of far-off thunder, that told him he didn't deserve anything else anyway. That told him he had no choice, that he could learn to swim or drown.

When that voice spoke, when the pain of it flashed like lightning through his veins, Grantaire made Jehan some tea in a quaint little cup, with a hint of honey, and he baked lemon and basil cake.

Then one day the sky caught fire in the most magnificent sunset that Grantaire could have imagined.

Enjolras asked him out for coffee. Not to talk about politics. Not to berate him about his latest interruption during a meeting. Ey asked him out.

Grantaire thought it was a joke at first. He genuinely thought it was a joke, got mad about it and started ranting about how it wasn't funny and he'd expected better from Enjolras.

But it had been real. And Enjolras had been as impassioned as ever when ey had convinced Grantaire that ey was taking this really seriously, that ey was genuinely interested in Grantaire and wanted to give the both of them a shot.

How could Grantaire have said no ?

So they had gone for coffee. And it had been weird at first, but then it had gotten better. If he was honest with himself, Grantaire would admit that he would have gone much further than weird to get a shot at being so close to Enjolras. He called the other Apollo, and laughed when Jehan started calling him Icarus, not noticing the genuine note of concern in his friend's tone.

The one coffee turned into dinner two weeks later, then drinks a week after that, then Grantaire staying at Enjolras' place for the night, then them starting to officially date.

When Grantaire moved out of Jehan's bed and back into their little art studio, he told the other man that it wasn't something Enjolras had asked for. It was something Grantaire had chosen to do himself.

Jehan didn't have the heart to tell him how much it hurt that Grantaire would pick Enjolras over him even when ey hadn't asked him to choose.

That didn't mean that Jehan wasn't happy for his friend. He was. This was what Grantaire had always wanted, and his joy at finally tasting the honey he had coveted for so long was infectious.

At least for a while.

For weeks, for a few months even, Grantaire was glowing. Jehan felt his closest friend drift further away from him, but he happily swallowed his bitterness in the face of Grantaire's smile. It was painful to admit that Enjolras might really have something more to give that Jehan would ever be able to provide, but that didn't mean he would be as selfish as to take it away from Grantaire.

Then Enjolras and Grantaire had a fight.

Jehan hadn't been worried, at first. The couple had always had fights with each other, sometimes in quite spectacular ways. They clashed on many different subjects, partly because they were both opposite and alike to each other. Their ideas often had the same roots, but life had made them grow in contrary directions.

So one more fight hadn't been a cause for worry. Even the fact that Grantaire had grabbed a beer in the fridge right after coming back to their shared flat hadn't really been enough to spook Jehan. It was far from unusual, for Grantaire.

The fact that Grantaire was quiet as he drank, more sad than angry, was a hint that something might be amiss, but not enough to panic. Grantaire was prone to melancholy, a mood which Jehan knew well enough to respect in others.

All this to say that, no, Jehan hadn't been worried. Not at first.

Not after that one fight, and not even after the next one.

Grantaire and Enjolras always made up. They always went back to one another. After all, Enjolras was Grantaire's singular belief. You did not just one day decide to stop following the Northern star when it was what had always guided you home.

The moment when Jehan started getting concerned was after he noticed that the times between arguments were just... less. On the one hand, Grantaire started spending more time with Jehan again. They would huddle up on the couch with one of Jehan's handmade infusions and watch weird documentaries well into the night, and it was nice to have that again. On the other hand, Grantaire wasn't coming home with a dopey smile on his face and apologies for how time had gotten away from him while at Enjolras' the evening before.

Grantaire didn't talk about it. Jehan didn't press, although he did... hover. Just a little.

Then Grantaire announced that he was going to spend a little while at Enjolras' place, longer than usual, because they needed some uninterrupted time as a couple, just the two of them.

Jehan tried to be happy for them, happy that they were trying to make it work, happy that they still believed in one another. He tried not to dwell on how their own appartment had started feeling more and more empty, even when Grantaire was here. He stopped himself before he could make a bitter comment about using Grantaire's room as an art studio again.

Instead, he lead his friend to the door, kissed him on both cheeks, and wished him well. He watched him go like one sits by the sea and waits for the light to sink.

The thing was, Jehan wasn't a saint. He was a human being with needs and desires of his own, and maybe he couldn't love Grantaire romantically, but he did love him. And for a year he had had everything he thought he would never be allowed to get, a best friend, a roommate, someone he could share his bed with at night and who would share Shakespeare-based puns with him over breakfast in the morning. And then a sungod had come in and ripped all of that from him, and he'd been forced to smile through it because Enjolras was his friend and Grantaire was happy.

But there had been something tense in Grantaire's shoulders as he'd packed his bags, and it had made Jehan want to scream. He didn't know how to tell the other man that he wanted him to come home without making it about his own pain and the feeling burned in his stomach like acid.

Jehan cried in his bed that night. He would have done it in Grantaire's, but he couldn't bear to step into the room that was now only a shadow of what it had once meant.

When Grantaire called him, three days later, in tears, there was a part of Jehan that felt vindicated. It wasn't enough to stop his stomach from twisting into knots as he whispered comforting platitudes until he could grasp anything coherent in Grantaire's distressed babbling.

“I don't understand what's happening, I don't understand why we just... why we can't... It's like ey can't hear what I'm saying, and I don't understand what ey wants me to tell em, I just...”

“It's okay. It's okay, Grantaire, you don't have to understand everything, just calm down a little. Right now you're panicking. You can't see things clearly if you're panicking.”

“I haven't seen anything clearly in weeks, Jehan. Everything's all blurry now.”

“That's just the alcohol talking.”

“No. It's really not. I wish it was.”

When Jehan saw Enjolras the next day, as they met up with all their friends, he couldn't even be angry. Ey look frazzled. Not in a dramatic way, but anything less than perfection was already dramatic when it came to Enjolras.

Grantaire had made Jehan promise not to say anything to em about their phone call, and Jehan respected that promise even if he didn't like it. That didn't stop him from watching Enjolras intently. There was a weariness to eir gaze that perfectly echoed Grantaire's for the past few days. Eir eyes kept drifting across the room, and Jehan didn't doubt that ey was asking emself the same question that was on his own lips: where was Grantaire?

At one point in the evening, Enjolras' eyes settled on Jehan. He met the gaze face on. He had nothing to hide. He wasn't ashamed of the pain and the fear he felt. It wasn't anything he didn't know he had a right to.

Enjolras didn't recoil. Ey bore the brunt of Jehan's attention and the accusation that sat hiding there. Ey looked on, weary, lost. There was a taste at the back of Jehan's throat that felt like pity, but he swallowed it.

When Grantaire finally came back to their shared flat, he was completely drenched from the storm outside.

“I had an umbrella with me, but I thought this would be more fitting.”

“That sounds like you, yeah.”

Grantaire stayed in the hallway. The sound of water droplets dripping from his hair and hitting the floor echoed ominously.

“I missed you.”

Jehan didn't reply. He didn't know what to say.

“I'm not feeling very good. I think I haven't felt very good in quite a while. I think I didn't realise that you made me feel that way. Good. Like I was good.”

Jehan breathed in. He breathed out. He stopped the screams that were trying to fight their way out of his mouth.

“I got everything I ever wanted. It was supposed to be perfect. It was, I guess. Or it felt like it. For a while. Now it's just... Hell is too warm a word. It's just something rotten. It's taken so much away from me. It's taken you away from me. I thought I couldn't have you both, and I picked em and it... you know that thing about boiling frogs by raising the water's temperature so slowly they don't even try to escape? It was like that.”

Jehan was fighting back tears. Between the two of them, they were about to flood the entire building.

This wasn't what he'd wanted. This was never what he'd wanted. He only wished for Grantaire to be happy. With or without him. Jehan had accepted his fate, he was okay with being left behind if it was for the greater good.

This didn't feel like the greater good. He suddenly wondered if refusing to raise his weapons hadn't been giving up the fight too soon.

“How is it fair to you that I only come back in pieces?”

“It's not.”

“Will you take me back anyway?”

“Of course I will.”

#AggressivelyArospecWeek #Meeni writes fics #Jetaire #Les Mis #Jehan Prouvaire #Grantaire #OTP: Words Unsaid

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forthegothicheroine · 4 years

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Kamigami no Asobi, Episode 7: a CHRISTMAS episode? WHAT?

By now it’s time for the mandatory Christmas episode! A Christmas episode. In a show about the classical gods. What.

Look, I know Christmas is a much more secular thing in Japan, but several of these gods had their religions almost wiped out by Christianity! They should not be on board with this! This is going to bug me the whole episode!

Deep breath. Let’s get on with this.

Warnings for a darker than usual episode, with some themes of assault amid all the fluff.

We’re finally getting some more Ragnarok foreshadowing with a flashback of child versions of Loki, Thor and Balder promising to be friends forever. Back in the present, it’s snowing, because Zeus enjoys dicking with the weather at random to piss the other gods off. This is canon- the characters state it outright.

Our heroes have decided to hold a cultural festival, because apparently you can’t have a high school anime without a damn cultural festival. Balder tells Yui again about how everything on Earth has sworn not to hurt him, so he can’t be harmed by his legions of fangirls.

Uh oh. This is a Christmas episode. Mistletoe is involved in Christmas. No, that idea doesn’t go anywhere, but it should have...

Balder is being very sweet and romantic with Yui, and Loki watches them from afar, jealously. I’ll explain this later, when he shows up again.

The gods have decided the theme of the cultural festival should be a Christmas Market, rather than, I don’t know, SOMETHING APPROPRIATE TO ONE OF THEIR RELIGIONS? I don’t know, maybe it being Christmas makes it neutral ground, so no one’s fighting over whose honor the festival is in. Whatever. I swear I’ll stop complaining about this eventually. The Greek gods are mad Yui won’t let them make a big pyre of all the fir trees for the climax of the festival (Insert a Wicker Man or Midsommar joke here). The gods team up by pantheon, appropriately.

Everyone is happy about this except for Balder, who is exhibiting some signs that not being with Yui is making him...just a little angry. This is the point in the show where we can start using the term “yandere,” even if it won’t come into full bloom for a few more episodes. He grabs and threatens her before Loki bursts onto the scene and basically rescues poor Yui by killing the mood.

Okay, the time has come for me to explain the dynamics of this triangle. Loki is into Balder. Balder is into Yui. Loki sometimes pretends to be into Yui to make Balder jealous, but in the process becomes genuinely attracted to Yui. Got that? Good, now we can move on.

This dynamic plays out over a Norse god cookout where it becomes clear that Loki didn’t even realize Yui was a mortal. Why not? I guess he’s just not as clever as mythology would have us believe. Even Thor says he picked up on it.

Next comes a montage of Balder stalking Yui, Yui feeling awkward, and Loki third-wheeling them. During this montage, Thoth pushes Yui up against a wall. Because of course he does. Eventually, Balder confronts Loki about always tagging along when he’s trying to be alone with Yui, and says “Loki, don’t disappoint me more than you already have.”

Ouch.

Thor takes Yui aside and explains that the three of them have always been friends, but that Balder and Loki have always had a special bond even he doesn’t understand. And indeed, Loki continues to be jealous as Balder spends all his time stalking Yui as they set up for the cultural festival.

“Explosion, explosion! An explosion to make everyone happy!” chants Apollo as he works on something privately. Uh oh.

Speaking of uh oh, Loki corners Yui and basically threatens to assault her (ahem, “make some special memories together.”) But Yui is just too cheerful to intimidate, and Loki is unexpectedly moved by her asking him to be her friend. All of which would be great if Balder wasn’t watching and grinding his teeth over it.

As Apollo sets up the lights and gets the festival going, Balder finds Yui and threatens to make her “never notice anyone but him again.” This time Loki genuinely runs in to save her- and to tell Balder “You belong to me!”

Ragnarok Clock:

We’ve got tension between the Norse pantheon, Loki getting violent, and Balder revealing that he’s not as nice as he seems!

Where is Odin? During this episode, Odin has disguised himself as a random wanderer and challenges passersby to games of twenty questions.

Team ___: Team Thor. He seemed like the only genuinely good dude in this episode.

Does Thoth push Yui up against a wall? Yes, in a montage!

#kamigami no asobi #gif

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aj-artjunkyard · 5 years

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Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER THREE

It had been a hectic few weeks, so naturally, I figured I’d earned some alone time. I lay facing the twinkling stars on the roof of our borrowed (see: stolen) Ford Transit van, in the middle of nowhere, plucking at the strings of my combat ukulele. I closed my eyes and played a tune I had written for my mother many millennia ago…

572 BC

“Phoebus Apollon!” My mother laughed as she slapped my arm playfully. “You cannot insult the Queen of the gods like that!”

“Ah, but you know she deserves it.” I said, bumping my shoulder into hers. We sat on the highest cliff on Delos, watching the sunset. The golden light made mother’s bronze skin glow, and her silky, caramel hair whipped around her face, sometimes obscuring her kind eyes. I gazed at her in awe, having no doubt why my father had fallen in love with her. Or why queen cow-face was so jealous. I myself appeared as a twenty-one year old, with my usual shoulder length blonde hair and golden toga. My head sat just a few inches above my mother’s.

“How is your new job?” Leto stirred my out of my reverie.

“Hmm?”

She smiled again, showing her dazzling white teeth. “The sun chariot, yiós.”

“Oh. It’s good. The sun horses moulded their personalities to suit mine after the first day. Most of the palace did actually. I named the horses too. And I don’t use the whip like Helios did. I think they’re grateful for that. The whip, I mean, or lack thereof. Though I do hope they like the names I gave them. They’re all sun related; Blaze, Flame, Dawn and Fire, though I may change that last one as it seems quite unoriginal-” I glanced over at my mother, only to see her smile had melted. She looked out at the sea, her head slightly bowed. Tears threatened to fall from her soft blue eyes.

Realising my mistake, I quickly took her hands in my own. “I’m sorry. I should have been more sensitive. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes, huh?” I tried for a smile, and manage to coax a sad one from my mother.

Leto could have rivalled even Hestia’s serenity and kindness. Of course she had taken the disappearance of her two cousins, Helios and Selene, to heart. They had both been such good souls, neither deserving of extinction. But such is the life of an immortal. Someday we would all fade from human memory. I fear that day.

Leto wiped a tear from her cheek. “I am glad you are not using the whip, child. I expect nothing less from such a kind-hearted young man.” She knew of my hatred of slavery. She knew everything about me, more than any mortal lover could ever comprehend. I did not have to pretend to be unrelentingly optimistic when I was around her.

“And what of the names?” I asked. Leto giggled, her dimples deepening.

“Very catchy.” she said, resting her head on my shoulder. “What about your other domains? Have you written any new songs lately?” In response, I willed my lyre to materialise in my hands. Leto cuddled closer to me as I strummed my latest tune, and closed her eyes when I sang softly along to the calming melody.

Leaning my head down on my mother’s, we watched the last traces of the sun melt beyond the horizon. It was a glorious sunset, if I do say so myself. Of course, it was all for the best mother in the world.

Present

As the final note dissipated, a jarring clang rang out from my right. Startled, I sat bolt upright and huffed at the source of the noise.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep, Meg?”

“You’re not sleeping either, dummy.” My demigod master clumsily climbed the rest of the way onto the roof of the van, and plonked herself down beside me. We sat in silence for a while. That was alright with me. I figured this was as close to ‘alone time’ as I would ever get as a mortal. “The song you played,” Meg said suddenly, “who was it for?” I said nothing. I looked up at the stars again. They hadn’t changed. Maybe a few new ones, but mostly, they were the same. I tried to say something, just to make meg’s painful question go away. I opened my mouth and felt a sob swell up in my throat. I closed it again. After a while, Meg’s stare became too much.

“My mother,” I conceded. Meg nodded, as if this answer was worth an hour’s explanation. A few more minutes silence followed.

“Were you close?” I thought it strange that my master of few words and more kicks would be asking two questions in a row. Was she trying to comfort me in her own Meggy way, perhaps? I studied her expression. As always, she was hard to read. The tilt in her eyebrows gave a concerned look, though the rest of her face was unchanged from her usual closed-off/blank character. Part of me wanted her to back off. My past was my business. But I reminded myself that she had only had a proper parental figure for a few years. Then he was gone. I was lucky. One of my parents had always loved me and stuck by me, and I took her for granted. I feared I may never see her again. It was my duty to spread the warmth she had given me to a young girl who had never had the comfort of a parent for long.

“Yes. Though I doubt I was as attentive a son as she was a mother. I was always ‘too busy’. But when I did see her, she was always forgiving of my stupid excuses.” I gestured vaguely at the dark sky in front of us. “We did things like this. Sit up in the highest, quietest place we could find, and watch the sun set. Sometimes, she would ask me to sing for her. I’d teach her my best songs, and we’d sing them together. I wrote a lot of songs that were only for my mother and I on those peaceful evenings. We’d dance too. Her waltz is only rivalled by my friend Terpsichore, the muse of dance. Even she has complemented my mother’s gracefulness.” I sighed. Meg stared at a star, squinting her eyes in and out of focus.

“We did that too,” she said.

“What,” I said. “Dance?”

“No, dummy.” Meg punched me in the arm. I bit back a retort, knowing she may be about to share something sensitive. Unless she decided I was too stupid to understand and said nothing more. I waited for her to elaborate, but I admit I wasn’t expecting anything. To my surprise, she continued.

“We watched the sun set. Then we stayed for the stars. My dad used to name all the constellations.” She picked at a callus on her hand, a seemingly frequent habit of hers. “He was smart like that.”

I nodded. “Where you had a father, I had a mother. At least that’s one thing we have in common. Though I feel you and Demeter would get along like a… well, you’d agree on most things.” I looked away and blew out my cheeks. I had almost said they’d ‘get along like a house on fire’. I am doubtless our little session would be abruptly cut off if I reminded my young master of the house-fire that drove her and Phillip McCaffrey out of Aeithales.

“Would we agree on how dumb you are?”

I shot her a glare, but for some reason the sheer bluntness of her question amused me more than usual. “I suppose you would,” I snickered.

Meg leaned back on her palms. Her rhinestones glittered in the starlight, illuminating her moss green eyes. “She missed out.”

“What do you mean?”

Meg shrugged. “Aeithales. Dad. She missed out.”

I wanted to explain that even if Demeter wanted to visit, she couldn’t have. Zeus’s laws forbade it, as we would get distracted from our godly duties. But as I looked up at my sister’s peaceful chariot, I thought about the sun, and how it would continue to soar across the sky even if there were no one driving it. It would take the form of a barque or a star. It made me wonder if Zeus’s excuse was even close to an acceptable one. Definitely not something I would be able to stomach telling my children to excuse my absence anymore, anyways.

“You tried to kill your dad once,” Meg noted.

“Not exactly, but I know when you’re referring to,” I said, confused. I failed to connect what an unsuccessful revolution thousands of years ago had to do with our present talk about good and bad parents.

“It didn’t work.”

I sighed. “I am aware.”

Meg looked me right in the eyes, giving me the unsettling feeling that overtook me when she issued me an order, but somehow without uttering a word. She appeared to study me like a patient on an operating table - proof that she was a far more complex being than she seemed. I fidgeted a bit. Her gaze became heavy, and I found my eyes were flicking around for a safe place to land. I forced myself to stop and look her in the eyes, though it took some convincing. I wasn’t sure if I’d overstepped my mark and made her angry, and believe me, an angry Meg is not someone you want to sit next to in the middle of the night with no witnesses around to call her out. Not that Meg cared that much about witnesses, mind you. Thankfully, instead of kicking me, Meg began to speak.

“If it had worked,” she said quietly, “Would it have been worth it?”

I admit, I was more taken aback by that question than I should have been. Of course she would compare my daddy issues with her own. Although I would never admit it out loud, I had privately compared Zeus to Nero on multiple occasions. Sometimes I would try to put myself in her shoes to predict what her reaction might be before I said anything. The other times I would forget, and end up with an elbow in my ribs.

I sighed. “I will never know, Meg. But I do know that Nero needs to be stopped, and we’re the only ones who can do it. We don’t exactly have the choice to flee.” Meg’s shoulders slumped. That was not the answer she’d been looking for.

“I wasn’t taking about Nero,” she muttered.

“Of course not. But if it makes you feel any better-”

“It won’t.”

“-I don’t along with my father either.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Duh,” she mocked, lifting my shirt and gesturing at my pathetic mortal flab. I promptly snatched my shirt back from her grip and glared daggers at her. She only snickered, which I found quite annoying.

“I meant that I never got along with him. One time he forgot my name and called me Aspirin.”

Meg smirked. “I bet you’re still bitter.”

“I am!” I cried, throwing my hands up for dramatic effect. “It's not even close!”

“Kinda is.”

“And to make matters even worse, we were at lunch! All the Olympians were there,” I huffed. “Hermes wouldn’t shut up about it for years.”

Meg snorted. “There’s gotta be one time you agreed on something.”

1335 CE

“Apollo!” A low voice thundered around the white walls of my palace in Delphi. I jumped, dropping the tub of oil paint I was using to decorate the whitewash. It showed my newest prophetic vision: an era of renaissance was ahead. I shook my hands (which then became clean), tucked the loose strands of my long, blond hair back into it’s man bun, and turned to see my father, Zeus, standing menacingly behind me. His were fists locked at his sides, and his electric blue eyes sparked. I tried my best not to shake. My father did not mess around when he was angry. I gave him a nervous smile.

“Father,” I greeted. “Is something amiss?” His scowl only deepened.

“One of my sons just visited your oracle,” he growled. “She told him his death would be by your hand.”

I gulped. “W-well, I believe her exact words were ‘you shall be slain by the arrow of ill health’. That could mean many things, I am sure. Perhaps it is a metaphor, and he simply dies from sickness. Perhaps he gets bitten by a venomous serpent. I also have reason to believe he will enlist in a war in around fifteen years, perhaps he will be struck by a poisonous-” my anxious ramblings were cut short when a lightning bolt flashed into existence in Zeus’s right hand. I looked up at Zeus’s face, hoping, believing I would see some kind of reassurance. There was none there.

“Father, you cannot truly think I can change the prophecy, do you?” Zeus starting striding towards me. Like the brave god I was, I backed up. Cowardly, I know. But I had no intentions to fight my father. I did not want to be vaporised.

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot think, boy.” He scowled. His bolt began to spark more furiously, as if reflecting its master’s rage. I held my hands up in an ‘I surrender’ gesture, locked eyes with him and hummed a slow tune, hoping it would calm either my father or myself down. Zeus simply tensed his shoulders and muscled his way through the magic.

With blinding speed, the lord of the sky reached out and roughly grabbed my upper arm, yanking me into his bolt. It erupted from my side and the pain overtook me. It seared every part of my body with a fire that could not even compare to Hephaestus’s hottest forges. I screamed a very ungodly scream.

After an eternity, it ended. I hung limply in my father’s grip. My feet tried to support me, but my knees buckled like I was holding a herd of elephants on my back. My head hung as if my neck had been severed from my shoulders. My hair, now free of it’s man bun, dangled by my face, sticking to the sweat on my forehead and cheeks.

A crackle sounded from beneath my chin. The bolt, as full of energy as ever, flickered madly, ready to give another shock at any moment. It was raised, forcing my head up to look at my father. His face showed no sign of regret.

“Let us try that again,” Zeus snarled. “You will erase my son’s memories, take him to your oracle, and she will give him a different prophecy. Understand?”

I swallowed the taste of ichor in my mouth. “I can give him a different prophecy,” I wheezed. “But I cannot erase what my Pythia has already spoken.”

That gained another bolt to my godly chest. Its razors tore though my lungs, my stomach, my heart, until I retched ichor and yesterday’s ambrosia. My eyes were overtaken by blinding light. I felt like I was floating, everything hurt so much that I couldn’t differentiate between the pain and the pressure of my feet on the floor or Zeus’s fist around my arm.

When the light died down, I was lying on the floor, Zeus’s sandals an inch from my face. The pungent smell of smoke filled my nostrils. My skin was sizzling softly. I knew my form would begin to fix itself shortly, and I technically could take another hit, as I could not die, but to put it simply: I did not want to see or feel that bolt for at least another million years. A rough hand dragged up by the back of my robes, and held nose to nose with Zeus.

“Would you like to test my offer again?”

I shook my head, already thinking about how great it would feel when I finally did slay that demigod. I would enchant that arrow with such awful diseases, such terrible sicknesses that would overcome his corpse and spread to anyone with mile of the body. I wanted that boy to suffer the way I suffered. Father was wrong. I could not change the prophecy. But I would let the oracle tell him of his greatest days - his victories, his legacies. I would paint him a picture so great that he would never see his death coming. I would wait. I would wait until his best day - that would be the day I would cut him down. I hated that boy. I hated that accursed lighting bolt.

I did just that. In the end, it was me that killed the boy. Zeus knew who did it - deep down, he knew prophecies could not be changed. I would still be the one to kill his son. I was not sorry. I almost welcomed the excruciating torment of the bolt.

Present

“No. I don’t think we ever agreed on much.”

Meg blew a raspberry. “You're so petty.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I remembered killing many innocent people for the singular reason that I was too scared to be angry at my father. I had never before looked back. But now, it was no wonder that demigods had short lifespans. I was not alone in being too afraid to challenge the lord of the sky. My sister, Artemis, was guilty. So was Ares, Hephaestus, Hera and everyone else. Poseidon would always be the only one to challenge him. But he was not innocent either.

“We should get some sleep. If I remember correctly, we found some blankets in he trunk.”

Meg jumped off the roof of the van, and called back, “Dibs on the big green one!”

Ugh. Typical.

#writing #toa #oneshot #toa oneshot #apollo #leto #zeus #meg mccaffrey #trials of apollo #fanfic #fanfiction

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enjoltaire-is-canon · 5 years

Text

Rise, Like the Sun, and Burn

Screw it, here’s the the chapter.

***

A Stunt In Crete:

“That’s sick,” muttered Enjolras, a look of disgust etched into his face at the sight in front of him. There were thousands of stands surrounding the labyrinth, each made of shiny silver that had fancy designs engraved into it. Dark green vines laced each stool’s legs, adding a rich colour to the cool silver. Each row was placed higher than the one before it to provide the audience with a perfect view of the event.

“It is,” agreed Combeferre. “But remember, you’re here to figure out the structure of the place, where everything is and how it works. You can’t make anyone suspicious, Enjolras. Or else you won’t be able to help. Not now, not next year, not ever.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Enjolras agreed. He had gotten special permission from Zeus to attend this year. Gods weren’t usually invited in fear that they would get jealous of King Minos’s kingdom, all the beauties and mysteries in it, and end up taking over it. But he wasn’t afraid that one of them would intervene with the competition, no, he had Soteria cast spells on the labyrinth for that.

“When will the event start?” He asked, hoping to get started with everything soon.

Combeferre pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch before answering. “Ten past nine, about three hours till the horns sound.”

“Perfect,” grinned Enjolras, a plan already forming in his head.

“Courfeyrac!” Hissed Enjolras the moment his friend appeared.He was hiding in a shadowed alcove, the only spot not covered by the full length windows that formed one third of the hall. Courfeyrac double-checked that no one was around before slipping into the alcove. “Chief,” he greeted, and Enjolras couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the title, a smile threatening to break through.

He forced himself to regain his composure, and faced Courfeyrac. They were here for a reason, they can’t afford to get distracted. A chance like that may never come up again. “So?”

Courfeyrac seemed to sense the situation and sobered up. “Everyone is in their position. The maids in the kitchen, participants “- participants, as if they had a say in the matter!-” in the training room with the tutors and Minos with his counselors, probably for the grand opening. The servants’ path to the labyrinth is clear and should remain so for the next two hours, but you should come out half an hour before that because that’s when the audience start to file in, they’ll be able to see you.”

Enjolras nodded grimly. “I wish we had come earlier,” he muttered.

“We’re lucky we got to come at all,” replied Courfeyrac with the same grave tone.

True, he thought. Out loud, he said. “And Combeferre?”

“He managed to sneak into the prep room to check out what weapons the participants are supplied with. I’ll be standing guard at the entrance and I’ll flash you if anyone passes by. I just you wish you’d let one of us come with you.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s too dangerous, you two have already sacrificed too much for me, and if we get caught…” He shook his head. “I can’t ask more of you.”

“We love you, Apollo.” Said Courfeyrac, using his much hated name. “But if you think we’re willing to sacrifice that much for you …” The black curled man smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s for the cause, remember?”

“Of course,” echoed Enjolras, not finding it in himself to fake a smile.

“Stay safe,” said Courfeyrac, squeezing his shoulder. “And remember, I’m two flashes away. Oh, I almost forgot,” the brunet took off the backpack slung over his shoulder and handed it to Enjolras. He didn’t need to say what was inside it.

He threw his friend a grateful smile before stepping out of the shadows and into the sun-lit hall. He strode confidently across the vast space and towards the gate on the other side, acting like he owned the place. A tip he’d picked up from the various times he had snuck into another god’s court as a kid, too young to be recognised by the servants as another god’s offspring.

The path to the labyrinth was empty, just like Courfeyrac had promised. With every step he took he felt excitement bubble up inside him. They had been discussing this for years, but had only been able to get permission to attend this year, and it had been only for the three of them, the rest of their hadn’t been allowed to come, no matter how much he argued with his father. If they had come their chances of succeeding would be higher, but then again, they were lucky to be here at all.

As he came closer to the labyrinth, however, his confidence started to fade. How was he supposed to face a Minotaur four times his height and eight his width? And what if he got killed before he had time to figure out anything? Then he would’ve just wasted his friends’ time and given them the trouble of explaining why he has been found dead in the middle of the labyrinth. No, he had to make it through this.

He turned left, following the instructions Combeferre had given him this morning, and found himself facing a plain wooden door that he knew to be the back entrance to the labyrinth. He allowed himself a moment to gather his courage before opening the door and stepping in, closing the door gently beside him as to not attract unwanted attention. He found himself standing in a dark hallway with a soft glow at the end. Curious but scared, he continued down the tunnel -if you could call it that- and saw that it led directly into the labyrinth.

Perfect.

Abandoning his fear and second-thoughts, he took out the labyrinth map Combeferre had given him this morning and set down the path, magically producing a trail of light behind him that only he will be able to see. He owed it to his friends to find the Minotaur.

The walk through the maze was surprisingly smooth, but then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. The creatures aren’t released till a quarter of an hour before the horns sounded. And even then, these creatures weren’t the problem, almost all the competitors were able to get through them without a notable injury. No,it’s the Minotaur that was deadly. How were a bunch of children expected to outlast it? The thing was literally half man- half bull.

He walked in silence for another fifteen minutes before he started hearing the Minotaur. He’d hoped it’d be asleep, but when was luck ever on his side? After a few minutes, he started to see the Minotaur's shadow, so he stopped and took off the backpack Courf had given him. Opening it, he saw what he already knew would be inside it. Smiling, he took out the extra large sheaf and slung it over his shoulder before reaching for the bow. He then threw the empty backpack on the grass, and concentrated on it for a moment. The bag burst in flames that burned nothing but the silk. Once he was sure that there was nothing but ash left, he resumed his path.

Five minutes after he’d continued his way, a golden flash appeared in the air, distracting him for a moment. He had to suppress a smile at the sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind the warm feeling that spread inside him. It was nice to know that his friends had his back, that they’ll always be there, no matter how much he pushed them away. Just then, a movement caught his eye. Backing into an alcove formed buy a bush and a tree, he took an arrow from the sheaf, placing in it in the bow instinctively.

And he wasn’t a second too early.

Before him, the Minotaur had risen, it’s ugly roars filling the air. The beast was swinging it’s fury arms upwards, shielding his eyes from the sun as he searched the labyrinth. Enjolras knew that it was ten minutes to eleven -being the sun god and all-, meaning that the Minotaur should be asleep, he’s not to be woken up before half past eleven. He also knew that the sun shouldn’t be this strong that early in the morning, but the Minotaur was scaring him, he can’t control it. The beast was obviously looking for something, or rather someone. And considering that Enjolras was the only one in here, he knew without a doubt who the creature was looking for.

He had two choices; wait for it to find him, or attack it first. He quickly contemplated the choices in his head and decided on the latter. He might not stand a chance if the Minotaur saw him, no matter how skilled he was. So he shot the arrow swiftly and pulled another from his sheaf, slipping further into the shadows as the Minotaur turned to his direction, the arrow in it’s arm a dead give-away.

He’d hoped that it wouldn’t have to come to this, because then it would be obvious that someone had been there, that he had been there. He managed to squeeze between two bushes and come out from the other side, cursing his inability to use a spear or a javelin all the while. He quickly shot another arrow from his new spot -striking the beast in the chest, but barely managing to draw out any ooze- before moving somewhere else. He continued doing that for the next five minutes, shooting an arrow and moving into another spot before the Minotaur spotted him. Every last arrow struck home, but just over half of them were able to draw pus, and even less caused any injury at all. He was running out of arrows fast -he hadn’t expected to need to use them, so he’d packed just over a hundred- and as he was shooting his second to last one, the beast spotted him.

He ran without a second thought, slipping between every bush, the arrow well out of his mind. At some point, a strong odor filled the air, causing him to get a little nauseous, but he ignored it in favor of running for his life. The further he ran the stronger the smell became, until he couldn’t stand it anymore, so he slipped between two trees, breaking the pattern he’d been following.

That proved to be the worst mistake of his life.

The Minotaur was standing in front of him, his looming figure more threatening up close. He was sure that the other people on the island had noticed the Minotaur's movement, and were probably calling for backup. He picked up the last arrow, but before he could slide it into the bow, the Minotaur spotted him and leaned down, engulfing him in its crushing grip. He tried to fight but the smell was making him dizzy. He felt the bow and arrow fall from his as the Minotaur raised him. It roared in his face before throwing him out of the labyrinth.

The next few moments were a blur.

The rushing wind was deafening in his ears, but that was all he was able to register before he felt himself bounce against something electrical and fall to the ground with a thud. He immediately felt a hand grab him and got to his feet, coming face-to-face with Courfeyrac. His friend looked ashen, but before he had time to say or do anything, Courfeyrac pulled him and ran towards a field surrounding a beaten up tower.

“Where are we going!?!” He cried as he tried not to stumble over his own feet. He hadn’t had time to catch his breath from the fall and now Courfeyrac was running like the devil himself was on their tail -which, frankly speaking, wasn’t all that unimaginable.

“What’s going on?” He cried as he pulled his hand back and caught up with his friend.

“I’ll explain later,” cried Courfeyrac back, not turning to look at him.

They soon reached the beaten down tower and Courfeyrac slid behind it, pulling Enjolras in with him.

“Okay, will you explain what’s going on?” He hissed. He had been too scared to look back, but hadn’t heard or smelled anything. Meaning that whoever or whatever they were in danger from wasn’t in that much of a rush to get them.

“I will,” said a voice from his right and he looked up to see Combeferre appear from behind a tower’s curve. “But first-”

“No buts,” he said firmly. As much as he loved his friends, he wasn’t going to follow them blindly, now when they were clearly in danger and he was the reason they were here.

Combeferre sighed, but agreed. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. “There had been a change in the plan last night, and I didn’t find out about it until after you entered the labyrinth.” -Enjolras felt his heart drop at that-”They plan on starting everything half an hour earlier, hence the minotaur’s activeness.”

“I tried to send you a signal,” continued Courfeyrac, “but I only had time to send you one flash before they set the hell-hound on me.I lost it before you came-”he snorted at that-” but I wasn’t willing to take chances.”

He was confused now. “Wait, why were they chasing you?”

Courfeyrac looked sheepish. “About that… Apparently, there was a guard at the viewing towers that I overlooked.”

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not your fault.” And he meant it.

But Courfeyrac shook his head. “It is.”

“It-”

“We don’t have time for your little antics,” said Combeferre sharply, cutting them off. “We have to figure out how to get into this tower, it looks abandoned and that’s probably the last place they expect Zeus’s son and his minions to go to.”

He wanted to tell them that they weren’t his minions , but a voice cut them off.

“You have a better chance of returning to your daddy unscathed than entering here.” Said someone from above the tower.

He took a couple of steps backward in order to see who was above the- No, the voice was coming from within the tower. There was a grinning dark-haired man with curls more unruly than Courfeyrac’s and a slight stubble.

“Who are you?” He asked, craning his neck to look up at the man.

“No one,” he replied simply. “And I stand by what I said earlier. You have a better chance of returning to Zeus unharmed than entering this tower.

“And why do you say that?”

“Because we’ve been trying to get out of here for years.” Said an older man, appearing beside the brunet.

He frowned. “And why are you here?”

That caused the younger man to laugh, a hollow sound with no mirth behind it. “You’re better off not knowing.”

He wasn’t going to argue with them right now. “Listen, we need a place to hide in for a couple of minutes. Can you help us? We’ll return the favour, I promise.”

The older man snorted. “I don’t doubt that.”

But the other man rolled his eyes. “What part of we’ve been trying to get out of the goddamn place for years didn’t you understand?”

Enjolras wasn’t giving up easily. “You’ve been trying to get out from the inside , what about the other way round?”

The brunet looked like he wanted to pull his hair out, but the older man placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them try,” he said. “They’re more than us. If they manage to get in, then we’re free. If not…” He shrugged. “Well, they’re the ones getting harmed.”

Just then, Courfeyrac appeared at Enjolras’s side. “What do you mean we’re the ones getting harmed?” He shouted at the men. “Will we get trapped in there with you?”

“No, but Minos will get you, and trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

Courfeyrac frowned, but Combeferre -did he apparate here?- shook his head. “I say we take our chances.” He muttered. “It’s not like we have any other options.”

Enjolras was reluctant to agree. “Okay, how do you suggest we get in there?”

“You’re Hecate’s son,” Said Courfeyrac, turning to Combeferre. “Can’t you make the bricks magically part or something?”

Combeferre shook his head, a bitter smile appearing on his face. “She took away my powers, remember?”

Courfeyrac went red in the face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot.” He muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Combeferre shook his head. “It’s okay. Let us focus on this.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Enjolras, grabbing the attention of his friends. “We could-”

He was cut off by a bark from behind the tower. “I saw them go there,” cried a voice, unmistakably a guard's.

Enjolras paled. “We don’t have time,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

“There is a pathway that leads to the dungeon underneath the tower,” said the younger man from above, causing Enjolras to whip his head upwards.

“Why didn’t say that earlier?” He snapped.

The man shrugged. “They’re going to search the place, trust me. It’ll only buy you five minutes if you’re lucky. It’s disconnected from the tower though, you can't get through it from here. You have to go down the hill over there”-he pointed to a hill ninety feet away-”you’ll find a statue in the valley there. Pull at it’s left hand. An opening will appear in the ground, go through it. You can close it and open it the same way from underground.”

He looked up at the brunet gratefully. “Thank you,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster.

But he just smiled crookedly. “Anything for you, Apollo.”

The blond scowled, but Courfeyrac grabbed his arm and pulled him along with him before he could say anything else. Just as they started running, a javelin was shot, it passed between them, narrowly missing their ears.

Enjolras looked over his shoulder as he kept running and a dozen guards chasing them, throwing javelins left and right. “We have to fight back,” he cried at Combeferre -who was a couple of feet ahead them- and Courfeyrac.

“We can’t!” Cried Combeferre back, “We don’t have any weapons on us.”

“But we have to slow them down,” he argued. “Or else going to the dungeon won’t buy us anytime.”

He couldn’t see Combeferre’s expression, but Courfeyrac looked like he was considering it. “You have a point,” he said at least. “But how?”

Enjolras grinned, coming to a halt. “I have an idea. But first do you have a mirror?”

His friends had stopped with him, though Combeferre was still ahead of them. “I do,” Said Courfeyrac warily, pulling out a hand mirror from his front pocket. “How- oh!” Realization dawned on him.

He smirked. “Yeah.”

He took the mirror and opened it, turning to face the guards -who were a couple of feet behind them. He twisted the mirror so that one side was facing skywards and the other guards. He concentrated all his power on the sun, willing it to shine brighter. The rays that reflected off the mirror, accompanied by the sudden increase in heat, told him that he had achieved his goal. The guards shrieked in sudden agony as the light their eyes, blinding them for -hopefully- a few minutes.

He pocketed the mirror and turned to his friends. “Come on,” he said, and they resumed their running.

They were climbing up the hill now, but when Combeferre stopped when they reached the top. “It’s faster if we roll downwards,” he said as he laid down, all business like.

Courfeyrac was grinning as he followed suit. Sighing, but knowing that his friend had a valid point, Enjolras layed down along with them.

“On three,” said Combeferre. “One… Two..”

Courfeyrac rolled down before Combeferre could say three. Cursing, he followed suit, leaving no option for Enjolras.

He was the last to reach the valley, and found that Courfeyrac had already opened the entrance. “It’s a slide,” said the brunet gleefully.

“Courfeyrac,” he hissed. “Can you be serious for a moment?”

“Don’t be a fun-spoiler,” said Courfeyrac with a grin before sliding downwards.

“It’s now or never,” muttered Combeferre before following suit.

With a last look over his shoulder, Enjolras followed his best friends.

The slide was cool beneath him, gently lowering him into darkness. As soon as he hit the ground, the entrance above him slid shut, leaving them in utter darkness.

“So what now?” Asked Combeferre, echoing Enjolras from earlier.

“Hold on,” muttered Courfeyrac. He had the air of a man concentrating on something, so no one spoke. After a moment, a burst of light erupted from Courfeyrac’s hand, creating a small pool of light around them.

After his eyes adjusted, Enjolras saw that Courfeyrac had lit a twig. “Huh, guess being the son of Hephaestus does pay off,” said Enjolras.

Courfeyrac’s face hardened. “There is nothing wrong with my father,” he said firmly. “I’d do anything to get rid of my mother’s looks.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Enjolras, “I-”

Courfeyrac shook his head, “No, I’m sorry. I over reacted.”

“You didn’t-”

“You two can continue later,” said Combeferre, stopping them mid-bicker once again. “Remember, we don’t have much time.”

They both nodded grimly and started walking down the tunnel they found themselves in along Combeferre, exploring as they racked their minds for a plan.

“We have to get out of this island,” said Combeferre.

Courfeyrac wolf-whistled. “Hear, hear.”

Combeferre rolled his eyes and Enjolras was torn between grinning at his best friends or rolling his eyes. They’ve been dancing around each other for ages, he wished they would just snog each other senseless already.

“Can’t you just fly us out of here?” Asked Courfeyrac, turning to Enjolras.

He shook his head. “The other gods have probably noticed what’s going on by now, my father is, without a doubt, beyond enraged right now. I’d rather not take my chances. Combeferre…” He looked up at his friend hopefully. “You can control the wind,” he said. Can’t you fly us back to Olympus?”

“I can,” Started Combeferre. “Theoretically…” He sighed. “I’ve never tried flying people before, let alone myself. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“It’s our only choice,” said Enjolras. “Unless you have any other plans.”

Combeferre sighed. “No, I don’t. But can you have something to back us up if we fell? Maybe it’ll help me fly us.”

“I can convince Poseidon to have our back,” he said slowly. “But I wouldn’t put much faith in him.”

“You can sacrifice something to him.” Said Courfeyrac.

“Huh?”

“You can sacrifice something to him, convince him to really back us up if something happened.” He repeated slowly.

Enjolras was silent for a moment as he flipped the thought over in his head. But there was not much to think about, really. It was a take it or leave situation. “Okay,” he agreed. “But one of us will have to sneak into the kitchen.”

“What!?!” His friends exclaimed in unison.

He sighed. “There isn’t much we can sacrifice here, but my uncle has always had a soft spot for coffee. I say we give it to him as a tribute, burn it or something.”

“I can do it,” said Courfeyrac at once.

Enjolras nodded. “Great. But we need to get our hands on some weapons before we go out to the open again.”

Combeferre shook his head. “The shore is close, I saw it from the palace this morning. If the guards haven’t come here yet, this means that they think we ran to someplace or another. The clearing should be... Well, clear.”

“Okay, you go there, Courfeyrac goes to the kitchen, and I’ll go back to the tower.” He ordered, finally regaining his position as a leader.

“The tower?”

He shrugged. “I can’t leave these two men, they clearly have no means of getting out.”

“You don't know anything about them,” argued Combeferre. “They could’ve lead the last attack on Olympus for all you know.”

But Courfeyrac was on his side. “No, he’s right. There’s something awfully familiar about these men-not in a bad way-, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Enjolras smiled at that. “And if they did lead the last attack on Olympus… Well, that’s just another reason to bring them along.”

Combeferre held up his hands in defeat, recognising a lost war when seeing it. “Fine, but you should all be at the shore in half an hour.”

“Okay,” the two agreed in unison.

“And I suggest we hurry.” Continued Courfeyrac. “This twig isn’t going to last much longer, and I don’t have anything else to burn.”

“We just have to find some weapons,” said Enjolras. “Or make makeshift ones, anything.”

“Let’s continue walking,” suggested Combeferre, “maybe we’ll find something once we get to the actual dungeon.”

“Okay, but hurry.” Muttered Courfeyrac, looking at the twig worriedly.

After a couple of minutes the tunnel finally widened out to an immense space -not that they could see it, but the air felt open, if a little humid. The twig was dangerously close to burning out now and Courfeyrac was close to tears.

“Hold on,” he muttered. “If we don’t find anything here in a minute, we’ll go back up, I promise.”

Courfeyrac nodded, but didn’t say anything.

They walked a few more meters before a sharp glint caught Enjolras’s eye. “There,” he cried, pointing in the direction the glint had come from. “Courfeyrac point the torch there.”

Courfeyrac did, and the moment the light hit the intended space a grin broke out on all their faces. Before them was a collection of weapons big enough to arm a small army, if somewhat poorly. But as they got closer, the smile faded from Enjolras’s face. The pile held every weapon someone could dream of; javelins, spears, knives, swords, everything except a bow and an arrow.

“There is no bow,” said Combeferre, coming to the conclusion a moment later.

“I realised,” he said coolly.

“Let’s not waste time,” said Courfeyrac quickly. “Enjolras, I’m sorry, but you’re terrible with all the weapons, and you’re more prone to hurting yourself than the enemy with them. Take a knife to defend yourself with it if necessary, but don’t use it unless it’s an absolute necessity. We can’t be sure if Asclepius will be willing to help after the stunt we’d just pulled.”

Enjolras scowled, but took a knife as instructed. Courfeyrac grabbed two knives and a spear, Combeferre following suit. As Courfeyrac made to turn round, Combeferre stopped him. “Wait,” he said and turned around to grab two more knives. “Give these to the men you’re planning on rescuing.”

Enjolras took them without a comment and they continued their way upwards.

“Goodluck,” said Combeferre, squeezing their shoulders in turn.

The clearing had been surprisingly empty, not that they’re complaining, but that didn’t mean they weren’t worried. They knew for a fact that no one will let them off easily, Zeus’s son or not, and the calm only increased their nerves.

“You too,” answered Courfeyrac with a small, apprehensive smile.

“Be careful,” said Enjolras.

Just as they were about to turn -Courfeyrac and Enjolras in a direction and Combeferre in another- Courfeyrac grabbed Combeferre and squeezed him in a tight hug. “Be careful,” he whispered, “but in the silence surrounding them, his voice was perfectly audible. “If things get dangerous, then abandon everything, you’re more important.”

Enjolras smiled and turned around to give them a moment. He gazed at the tower, a plan already forming in his head. He could climb the tower and help the men get down, but he didn’t have any rope on him and doubted that there was one within a hundred meter radius. Meaning he had to burn the tower down. But how was he supposed to do that without harming the men? This left him with one option; the vines.

They were surrounded by plants from every side, so he could make one of them grow vines long enough to surround the tower. Then the men could climb down them. Perfect. Now if only he could convince Fortuna to side with him…

“You ready?”

He looked up to see Courfeyrac grinning beside him, cheeks flushed.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirked.

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “Come on, you have a princess to rescue.”

“And you a kitchen to rob.”

Courfeyrac laughed, he was clearly in a good mood. Nothing could bring him down, not even a murderous king with a Minotaur at his disposal. “I’d say I have it better.”

Enjolras seriously disagreed, but didn’t want to spoil his mood.

“So is there anything that uncle of yours fancies? Or will common coffee do?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just get him the fanciest thing you can find, and get as much as you can carry without slowing down.”

They soon reached the tower and said their goodbyes. As Enjolras stepped into the area they were in earlier, the young man greeted him.

"Back so soon, Apollo?”

Enjolras scowled. “I’m here to show you that I keep my promises,” he said. “Can you climb vines?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, we can.” Said the older man, appariating beside the brunet. “But I must warn you, the moment the king realises we’re gone, he’ll set his guards after us and whoever helped us escape. Zeus’s son or not.”

“They guards are already on our tail,” muttered Enjolras as he closed his eyes, pooling his concentration on the plants around him. At first, nothing happened, but then he felt the plants expand around him, wrapping themselves around the tower.

When he opened his eyes, the tower was wrapped in dark green vines, all going in one direction in order to make the descent downwards easier. Satisfied, he looked up at the men who were staring the vines in awe.

The younger one, however, recovered quickly. “You could’ve just given me a heads up, you know. So I could grow my hair”-he shook his head so that his curls were impossible to ignore-”and you could play hero and rescue us.”

“Grantaire,” hissed the older man, elbowing him.

The man -Grantaire- turned to the man with a raised eyebrow. “Father.”

So that was his father.

“If you had long hair,” said Enjolras. “Your father would’ve been able to climb down.”

“Fun spoiler,” muttered the dark-curled man -Grantaire.

Enjolras ignored him and turned to the father. “I suggest you started climbing down now, sir,” he said. “I don’t know how much time we have left.

The man looked shocked for a moment when Enjolras called him sir, but he didn’t prone on it.

“Grantaire, you go first.” Said the man.

Grantaire seemed to sober up at that. “Are you sure?” He asked. “We can go down together.”

His father smiled but shook his head. “I’m sure,” he said.

Grantaire looked like he was about to argue but his father nudged him again and he obeyed. As the brunet climbed downwards, the father turned to Enjolras. “I have iron wings,” he said. “I don’t know how you plan to get us off the island, but I’m sure they’ll be of some help.”

“How many do you have?”

“Five-”

“Five!?!” He exclaimed. This was perfect, they were five in total, if each took a pair, and Combeferre blew the wind then they wouldn’t need to depend on Poseidon.

“Yes, five. But none of them are perfected, some have slightly tilted wings, others too little feathers. Though they can be of assistance .”

Well, that was a disappointment, but it was something nonetheless. “Bring them along,” he said. “We can make use of them.”

“Alright, but how should carry them down?”

He had a point.

“Apollo, here I come.” Said a gleeful voice.

He looked up to see Grantaire a few meters from the ground- was he going to throw himself!?!

He quickly took hold of a vine and climbed swiftly, wrapping an arm around Grantaire’s waist as soon as he was within reach. “Are you suicida?,” he hissed. He slowly got them both down and the moment Grantaire’s feet hit the ground he turned to him with a grin. “I wasn’t actually going to throw myself, you know. I just wanted to give you a chance to play hero.”

“Sure,” muttered Enjolras before returning to the idiot’s father.

“Do you think you can throw them?” He asked, craning his neck to look at the man.

He shook his head. “What if they break?”

“Since you’re obviously so good at climbing,” started Grantaire from beside behind him. “Why don’t you go get them down one by one.”

Enjolras scowled. “We’re short on time.”

“Well, it’s certainly more efficient -time wise- than standing here and wondering how to perform the trick all day.”

What’s with people outsmarting him today? “Fine,” he hissed through gritted teach. He took hold of a vine and started climbing.

“I’ll wear one on my down,” said Grantaire’s father once he was halfway up the tower. “So that’s one trip down. Leaving us with three, we’ll alternate with getting them down.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. If he was completely honest, he’d just realised that he hadn’t planned on how to get the wings down. He’d just wanted to prove Grantaire wrong.

“I’ll help you too,” said Grantaire. “You know, to save energy and all.”

Enjolras had to seriously restrain himself from banging his head against the wall. “Why couldn’t he have just gotten one down with him?”

“Because my father hadn’t mentioned them yet, dear Apollo.”

It was only after Grantaire had replied he’d realised that he’d spoken out loud. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Once he was on top of the tower he climbed into the window and Grantaire’s father handed him a pair of iron wings. “They’re heavy now,” said the man. “Though they will be feather-light once life has been blown into them.”

“And how is that done?” Asked Enjolras as fastend the wings and turned to the window once again.

“Through wind. We’ll just have to wait for a breeze, nothing strong. And at this time of the year, it shouldn’t be rare.”

“A friend of mine can control the wind actually,” said Enjolras as he took hold of vine once again. “So that shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

The man flashed him a grin. “Great.”

Up close, Enjolras could see the striking similarity between Grantaire and his father. They had the same hair colour -though his father’s was flat-, same eye colour and same grin -though his father’s wasn’t sarcastic.

Five minutes later, everyone was out of the tower and making their way back to the shore. They all had a pair of wings strapped on and, in Enjolras and Grantaire’s father’s case, another pair in their hands.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Enjolras as they neared the shore, stopping to pull out two knives from his pocket. “Incase we get attacked.” He said, handing a knife to each of the two men.

They both took them with a quite thank you -in Grantaire’s father’s case,at least, whom he really needed to find his name. Grantaire took it with a raised eyebrow. “And what makes you think we know how to throw a knife?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s the only thing available for now, take it or leave it.”

Grantaire looked like he was about to argue, but Enjolras was saved by their arrival at the shore. Combeferre had already lit the fire and was waiting for them, if somewhat impatiently. He opened his mouth to greet him when he felt a sharp slap on his back. He turned to shout at Grantaire -thinking it was him- but was greeted by Courfeyrac, who looked like he’d just escaped the grim reaper. Which, quite frankly, wouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

“What happened?” He asked, taking the coffee bags from him and throwing them to Combeferre.

“Hellhounds,” panted Courfeyrac. “Hydras. Guards, with aflamed weapons.”

Enjolras didn’t need any further explanation. He turned to order to Combeferre to burn the coffee, but his friend was already on the task, so he turned to the rest. “Go to Combeferre,” he ordered. “He’ll get the wings started.”

They obliged with no comment. He then turned to Courfeyrac, holding out the pair of wings he’d been carrying to him. “Put these on,” he said. “They’ll help in the escape.” Courfeyrac looked confused, but to his credit, didn’t comment.

He then turned towards the sea and closed his eyes, praying silently. Please accept our tribute, uncle, and have our back if our plans fail. He didn’t feel a sense of peace spread through him, but then against, he hadn’t expected to.

"Enjolras!”

He turned to Combeferre, but then heard a roaring sound behind him. He turned to see two hellhounds pounding towards him, fangs bared. Behind them, there was a hell-hound with at least eight heads, with every and each last one focused on Enjolras.

He immediately turned on his heels and turned towards his friends as he reached for the knife in his pocket that he knew would be of no use. The wings on his back, however, slowed him down, and a hell-hound caught up with him, pouncing on his back and pinning him to the ground.

He heard a couple of voices call out his name, but his mind was focused on the knife in his hand, currently trapped between his body and the sand. The beast’s breath was warm on his back, sending shivers down his body. It didn’t look like it wanted to harm him, just to hold him captive. With an effort, he managed to wriggle out the knife and slash one of the dog’s paws.

It let out a cry of agony, distracted for a moment. Leaping at the chance, Enjolras immediately stood up, throwing the beast off his back. But it took hold of his shirt before he was out of its reach. He ignored its hold on him, willing himself to move in the opposite direction. He then heard a ripping sound and knew that it was his shirt, if the sudden lightness was anything to go by.

He ran to his friends, who were gathered a couple of meters away from the shore. The moment he was within reach, Combeferre told them to make a beeline for the sea on three.

“One,” he said. “Two...three!”

They all set out on a run at the signal, and just as they were about to reach the sea, Enjolras felt himself being lifted, a cool wind blowing against his back. He looked at the others to see that they were with him, and threw Combeferre a grin, who smiled shyly.

Their happiness, however was short lived.

A spear flew past Enjolras’s head, coming closer than the that was thrown at him this morning. He didn’t want to know what’ll happen with the next one.

Combeferre paled and closed his eyes, concentrating on something.

Another spear flew towards him, but he felt himself being pulled by someone before he had a chance to react. He struggled against his captor, trying to writhe out of his hold. He managed to loosen his hold on him when he was pushed to the side, his captor letting go of him. Confused, he turned to look at his captor- only to see Grantaire’s father falling to the sea, a spear buried in his chest.

“Dad!” Cried Grantaire, making a move to go after his father.

Enjolras grabbed him before he could do anything rash, wrapping his arms around his chest. “There’s nothing you can do, Grantaire.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

But Grantaire shook his head, struggling to get out of his grip. “Let me go,” he pleaded “I can save him.”

He only tightened his hold on him as his father splashed into the sea, disappearing without a trace.

Grantaire let out a cry of anguish. “Dad!” He screamed, struggling to get out of his grip more than ever. “He’s still alive, please, let me go after him.”

He shook his head silently as Grantaire broke down in sobs against him. As they drifted away from the island, one last bitter thought ran through his head; thanks a million, uncle.

#fanfiction #enjolras #grantaire #apollo #icarus #greek mythology au

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willandlyra · 7 years

Note

Pls can you write anything with a jealous Nico? So like he's being a bit more touchy and grumpily affectionate with Will all day for some reason until Will realises why and he's like omG cUtE gRuMpY jealOuS bOyf

read on ao3

It’s not as if Nico is jealous, per say.

…Okay, so he’s a little jealous. But that’s fine! It’s not like he’s about to throw a fit over it. Or break into the Apollo cabin while they’re all out having breakfast to ensure that Will isn’t getting up to any shenanigans behind his back. It’s not as if he even feels threatened in any way - Will loves him, and he loves Will, and he trusts him.

But this new girl, hanging around Will all the time? Blushing every time he so much as says hello and thanking him every day for bandaging her wrist when she was first brought to Camp Half-Blood a few days ago, a shiny new addition to the Athena cabin?

It’s not that he doesn’t like it, per say - okay, yeah, he doesn’t like it. But the thing is, he kind of knows he’s being unreasonable. There’s no way she could know that he and Will are together, she’s barely been at camp a week and it’s not as if PDA is really their thing. If she did, she’d probably feel terrible. But she doesn’t, and so she keeps giving Will these longing looks from across the dining pavilion.

“You know,” Jason says, chomping into a burger, spread out all over the Hades table as if he’d actually been invited. “You should just tell her you’re dating Will. Or tell Will she’s got some puppy love going on. It’d be much simpler.”

“Not jealous,” Nico mumbles.

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Not an idiot,” he contributes, rather unhelpfully.

“Okay. A bit jealous. Still no need for-”

“Basic communication?”

Nico scowls. “Aren’t you supposed to be creating shrines to the forgotten gods of the world?”

“Hey, I’m taking a well deserved break. I did just save the world, you know.”

“Two years ago, Grace, get over it. And Percy’s done it, like, twice as much.”

Jason considers this.

“Irrelevant,” he concludes. However, he seems to notice Nico’s ploy at changing the subject because he suddenly, sharply, turns the conversation quickly back into, well, serious places. At least, mildly more serious. “But like, really. Just say something.”

Pfft. Emotional confrontation? Not today.

Nico has grown to like the campfires a fair bit. Sure, they’re tedious in some ways - Leo always finds a way to show off his fire skills while Calypso rolls her eyes and whatever new campers they are gawp and gape. Chiron extends wisdom to them all, as if more than 15% of the camp are listening (they love him really), and Nico’s face keeps getting overly warm from the flames.

But otherwise, yeah, he loves it.

He loves it with Will too. He’s got a good routine going on, they’ve got a good thing. They always sit together at the campfire, surrounded by their other friends, and it’s all subtle but they’re still close. Skin touching, limbs brushing, fingers warm and intertwined.

Things he loves: the campfire, occasionally, and also Will.

And yeah, okay, maybe because the new girl, Chloe, keeps giving Will shy looks from across the blaze, clearly oblivious to everything else, Nico might just lean in a little bit closer to him, letting his breath bounce warm against Will’s wrists, shivers when Will’s blonde hair tickles at his skin as he mumbles something into his ear.

Not that the girl seems to pick up on it. Oh gods, what if she thinks they’re bros? Nothing terrifies Nico more than the idea of muscly straight guys punching him on the shoulder with a beefy grin, saying “no homo”.

“We are definitely not bros,” Nico mutters.

Will blinks. “You what?”

Jason catches Nico’s gaze from across the way, and mouths “told you so. Jealous.”

So Nico overhears Chloe talking to one of her sisters about her huge crush on the blonde medic who took care of her on her first day, and his big blue eyes, and he kind of wants to go chill in the Underworld for oh, maybe six months or so.

The sister doesn’t say anything about Nico or Will having a boyfriend, and maybe she isn’t even really listening. But hey, Nico is. He’d appreciate some support here, universe.

See: he gets it. He’s being stupid. Will’s not gonna go for this girl, he knows that. Knows the thought of liking her won’t even cross his mind. He’s not secure in many things, but he’s pretty secure in one, and that’s just how much Will loves him.

What he’s not so sure of? Just how much he really deserves that love, and whether other kids here could wear it way better, make him smile brighter.

It’s not a nice way to feel.

“Any reason why you’ve been stalking me to the Apollo table at breakfast, lately?” Will asks, nonchalantly, a few days later when they’re sprawled out across Nico’s bed.

(Will had suggested going for a walk. Nico had snorted, and responded with one word. Or maybe two, technically: “uh, pillows?” and here they are.)

Nico frowns at his words.

“Um, rude,” he sniffs. “You should be blessed with my presence.”

“Oh, I am,” Will grins. “But like, you’re usually not up until noon. Breakfast is lunch and lunch is pomegranates. Something’s up.”

“I’m a morning person now,” Nico says weakly.

Will snorts.

“Yeah, and I’m Clarisse La Rue from Ares,” he says sarcasitcally. “What’s going on, really?”

Nico is quiet for a moment.

He swears he can hear Jason’s voice - like maybe the big blonde loser is chilling under his bed waiting to act as his conscience. But it’s probably just in his head, a byproduct from all the mother henning he’s done over the years.

Just tell him, Nico. Followed by a deep and long suffering sigh.

“So you know that new girl in Athena,” he says, eventually, not bothering to phrase it as a question. “She has a crush on you.”

“Oh, Chloe?”

“That’s the one.”

Will rubs the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “Yeah, I kind of figured that,” he says. “I was gonna tell you, she asked me out this morning.”

Nico’s eyes bug out. “What?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, came by the infirmary. I felt so awkward, I was so sure the entire world knew about me and you by now.”

“It’s… old gossip, I guess.”

“Mmmm.”

“And?” Nico probes. Will actually looks confused for a minute, until Nico rolls his eyes and says, “what happened?”

“Oh, well, I just told her that she’s really nice, but I’ve got a boyfriend at the moment. He’s pretty cool, you know him?”

Nico hides his face but he’s smiling. “You’re a dork.”

“She was cool with it,” Will continues. “Had no idea, said sorry and all that. But we’re all good.”

“Cool,” Nico says.

Quiet.

And then -

“So why’d it bother you, anyway?” Will asks. “That she liked me?”

“I don’t know,” Nico shrugs. “I, um. Was just as bit jealous, I guess?”

“How come?” he actually looks a little concerned. “You don’t - you didn’t think I’d like her or something, did you? Cause I wouldn’t. Not while I have you. I like you. You know that, right? Like, I love you.”

“I know that,” Nico says. “I love you too.”

“You better.”

“I do.”

“Then… why?”

Nico curls up into himself but the thing is, Will follows his motions; melting into him and the way he leans, moving closer, not letting him isolate himself, pull away.

“Just, all that insecurity,” Nico says and he shrugs as if it’s nothing although he knows Will will know it’s not. “It never really goes away. I still don’t feel like I’m all that good enough for you sometimes.”

Will looks at him incredulously.

…And then, for some reason, gives him half a noogie, before collapsing on top of him and draping his arms around Nico’s neck, nuzzling in against him.

“Idiot,” he mutters. “As if - no, that’s not - you’re an idiot.”

“You just repeated yourself. Well done.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Will warns.

“Sorry,” Nico mutters.

“Don’t be,�� Will says. He still hasn’t let go. “you don’t… you don’t need to feel that way. Like, ever. I love you. You know that. I don’t want anyone else?”

Nico hesitates, and he’s not sure for a moment if he believes it. There’s his past and his thoughts and all his experiences, moments that have taught him to believe he’s not good enough, he’s not worth it. No one could ever love him, at least not forever.

But it’s Will. And it’s enough.

“I love you too,” he mutters, barely getting out the words before Will’s lips are on his and he’s being kissed into oblivion.

The next day, at lunch, when Nico walks in the girl smiles semi-awkwardly, gives him a little wave, rose colours dusting her cheeks like she’s embarrassed.

Nico figures she doesn’t need to be.

He gives her a small smile back, and makes his way over to Will.

#solangelo #solangelo fic #solangelo fanfic #solangelo fanfiction #apparently the only time im productive is when im babysitting and watching lilo and stitch hbu #hope you liked it!!!#Anonymous

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