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cherryyjjk · 4 years

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forever rain [1]

summary: to greek gods, it was a well-known fact that the fates liked to play tricks. but was this too far? what would happen when they made two unlikely gods have a tugging string in their hearts, yearning for each other?

pairing: hades!jin x persephone!reader

genre: angst / fluff / greek god! au / black swan! au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: isolation, slight manipulation

a/n: please check out the note about this series in my masterlist before reading! (this is the version where you’re shorter than the members) thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy :D

Another warm spring day, with the flowers blooming, birds chirping. An overall happy theme.

You despised it.

How could these people like the constant happiness, the constant smiling, the constant joy? As if everything was right in the world.

It wasn’t.

It hadn’t been in years. As a minor goddess, you weren’t roped into the specifics but, you knew that something was brewing up in Olympus. You couldn’t understand what yet but you knew something.

Your mother, Demeter, had not told you much but you had noticed her retiring in the early evenings to bed, only to overhear some whispers in her room in the dead of night. You knew who it was, who else could give her messages of what was happening up in the sky?

Hermes, the messenger of the gods.

He liked to call himself Jimin. You understood the desire to keep more human names, traits. You had especially liked the name Y/N, it rolled off your tongue and stuck.

Of course, your mother despised it. Just like everything else you did that did not include helping her. She had ‘discussed’ the matter with you once.

“You’re a goddess for Zeus sake! You should keep your powerful name, Persephone.”

You had rolled your eyes at the statement. Even Zeus had his own name, Namjoon. It fitted the god’s wisdom but not his intimate tendencies. You knew Jungkook, Hera, would be fuming whether or not Namjoon was looking at mortal women and men again, but just at the thought. You chuckled and rolled your eyes, you missed that. You missed your friends. You were so close with the gods in Olympus.

Only for your mother to pull you down to Earth to help the mortals survive.

It was a fruitless request, your presence was not needed. There wasn’t any weather changed except the warm sunshine to good rainfall every other day. Crops were thriving and the people were happy.

It was a paradise.

You were useless here.

Alas, you couldn’t disobey your mother, that would give more complications then you would ever want. Her gray eyes and sharp words would often cut through your measly requests of exploration. You didn’t ask for the secret of life, just if you could travel beyond the meadows and into the forest.

You tried to reason with yourself that she was just trying to protect you but sometimes it was stifling. Couldn’t she trust you for more than a few minutes?

You had covered up your curiosity by saying that you wanted to help protect the young men who cut wood in the night. You envied their positions, they had real families. Your mother had rolled her eyes and with a subtle way of words, she had made your request seem like the end of the world. She kept a finger under your chin, holding it up to her face. She pouted, and drawled out a familiar phrase.

“Why? You don’t like living with your mother? I know what’s best for you.”

You knew that something was wrong. Your mother was a bit strict, to put it lightly, but she had recently become even more controlling. It was as if she was running out of time and couldn’t bear the thought of you not being at her side.

Your relationship reminded you of a mortal folktale you had heard of. Nothing to do with gods like they usually were, but a different one. You forgot the name but you vividly remembered the story being told around a fire. It was about a girl with long, gold hair who was trapped in a tower by her conniving mother. The similarities were striking and you knew something was off. You never addressed it, scared that the mortals might get the brunt of your mother’s anger for a made-up story.

So you kept the story and the happy ending inside your mind and it beat in your heart. It was something yours and truly and only yours. It seemed like a treasure that you would never let go off. You liked how in the end, she was able to escape her prison and live an adventurous life. You envied her courage. Her bravery to leave what she knew behind to take the chance of finding something more. And even someone more.

You tried to keep these thoughts quiet, scared if it entered your mind, it would be on the tip of your tongue and your mother would steal it from you. Like your freedom.

Your morning thoughts were interrupted by Jimin’s wings flapping onto the balcony you had been looking out from. The balcony was made of a white marble and it was right outside your room. The room was spacious but not needed. You were a goddess, you didn’t need sleep or have any mortal belongings. But it was nice, in its own way.

Jimin’s light smile always brightened your mood, no matter the time or day. You looked at him as he descended but did not open your mouth, afraid of the response he might give to the question that had been plaguing you.

Maybe another day.

He landed next to you, his soft pink locks bouncing before the small white and gold flecked wings on his ankles disappeared in a bit of smoke.

He was wearing white robes with gold accents, he had a touch for style you knew had been inspired by Apollo, or as he called himself: Hoseok. The mortal depiction of Hermes was that he held a staff of two talking snakes and wore a helmet but a few eons ago, Jimin had rolled his eyes at the tradition and tossed both away. Obviously, he was reprimanded for this by Namjoon so he decided to compromise and just keep them hidden from view. However, if you concentrated, you could make out a gold shimmer in his hair where his helmet ought to be or hear two overlapping voices of the snakes on his staff.

“What do I owe to have the pleasure of seeing you, Jimin?” You asked, turning away from him to lean on the handrail of your balcony. Your hands had felt those rails so many times. It was rough and warm, just like everything in the mortal world.

You wanted to feel something different, something—

“You flatter me, and yourself. How did you know I’ve come to see you?” He smirked and teased.

You flicked your eyes back up at his, only to see them gazing back at you. His eyes swirled with a mix of brown and gold, showing his power. You didn’t yield down and continued to look at him. He sighed softly and looked out to the fields that the balcony overlooked. He brought an arm around your shoulders and slowly pulled you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso and put your head on his chest.

“I miss you, Kore,” He murmured, tired of keeping up appearances, “we all do.”

You hummed in understanding, taking the chance to relish being in your friend’s arms. It wouldn’t have been bad to live in the mortal world, in basically a palace that mortals couldn’t see. With endless food and drinks to indulge. But you didn’t want any of that. You wanted your friends, the people you loved and cared about.

“We all miss our pretty bird. The one who would fly across Olympus because she heard some of us talking loudly. Her feathers glistening in the morning dew after racing Hobi and his chariot to bring the sunrise. Quarreling with Namjoon about little things or when Taehyung scolded you for drinking too much ambrosia. We miss you.”

“I know. I miss you all too.”

Your friends had called you pretty bird after your endearing qualities that you always expressed on Olympus. You would hear an uproar from one side of the throne room and you’d come dashing in to see what was the problem. Your selflessness and compassion had made many of the gods favor you. Even Jungkook, known for his coldness to other gods, had a soft spot for you.

And you used to be a cheeky brat when you were a few eons old. You’d steal ambrosia from Hebe, the goddess of youth. She’d be sleeping when you would find her golden cup, filled with the sweet of the gods. She’d scold you multiple times, but you’d have a smile on your face from tricking her. You were also the one who gave her a mortal name, Taehyung. You later realized it was more so used for males, but she laughed it off. Saying she liked the way it sounded and explained how gender norms were only a mortal concept and that she could embody a man. She did and you started to realize why she— or he rather, was the god of youth.

Jungkook would even side you when you disturbed Namjoon, saying that you were only a child. He would also laugh it off, patting you on the head, while Jungkook would only smile. You didn’t remember much of what your mother used to do. She would come every once in a while to check up on you, before leaving back to the mortal world. You didn’t mind her absence. Demeter was always the one scolding you the most. She’d punish you by saying that you weren’t allowed to leave a certain area until she deemed fit. Of course, during these times, your friends would help you out. The first time they did, you jumped so high that Jimin thought you had sprouted wings. That was the first time they called you pretty bird. You still felt like a pretty bird.

A pretty bird held in golden cage. But you realized that, though the bars might be golden, it was still a cage.

And a bird is meant to be free.

————————————————————

You were roaming around the meadows again, but not alone.

You could never be alone.

“Y/N, where are you going? Come back here and don’t wander off!” Your mother yelled from behind you.

In reality, you had barely been a few feet away from her. You turned your head back at her upset form and nodded in acknowledgment. There wasn’t much you could do but agree.

Though, while slowly walking back to your mother’s side, you looked at the meadow you were in. It was filled with vegetation: flowers, grass, fern, and other herbs. They weren’t all just green, but different shades of greens, browns, and a sprinkle of colors from the daisies or lavender planted there.

A swift breeze passed by you and your dress moved with it. Your hands went to the soft, cotton fabric of your plain, white chiton. Your mother hated the choice of clothing, saying that you shouldn’t conform to mortal standards as you were a goddess. You tried to understand but, it was a simple dress and the gods wore more or less the same thing. It must have been because you didn’t wear a laurel wreath on your head. You despised it, remembering how you loved hiding in cherry laurel when you were younger. There was no point in cutting off a few branches to identify yourself as god. The mortals couldn’t see you, only other gods could. It was useless.

Even in little things you tried to disobey your mother, such as shortening the chiton by a few inches at the bottom. It could help you run through the grass, if you could.

If she allowed it.

You stopped in your tracks to crouch down, holding your arms around your knees while balancing on the front of your feet. You looked in front of you at the baby’s breath in curiosity, it was such a lovely plant and you liked the simplicity. It had always been a favorite.

“I’m sorry for yelling, but it’s getting late and I don’t want you to wander off. Please stay close, okay?” Your mother asked, her true feelings surfacing for a brief second. She held your wrist and pulled you up.

Her fingers pinched your skin, but you didn’t cry out. She dragged you through the baby breath and your feet crushed the plant. Your mother kept walking for a few feet until stopping in front of a cluster of crops that were wilting, most likely from a disease. Your mother folded her arms while you rubbed your wrists to ease the pain.

“Sorry Kore, I didn’t know I hurt you.”

“It’s fine.”

She looked at you worried, but you shrugged it off and sighed.

Closing your eyes, you tried to stay calm. Your mother wanted to test your powers again, afraid that your talks with Jimin or your curiosity was hindering it someway.

You opened your eyes and took a deep breath in. You felt your fingers tingle and you opened your palm out to the crops. In mere moments, the disease that effected the crops vanished, leaving healthier ones in its stead.

Your mother only hummed and stepped towards you. She stood in front of you and smiled. These were the moments you liked, when your mom was not being completely anxious and worried. Her smile reminded you about wilting flowers, beautifully sad. She took your hands into hers delicately, unlike the way she grabbed them earlier, and rubbed them. You liked the feeling but it was even better when she kissed the top of your head.

“I love you Persephone, I’m sorry if I have been anxious the past few days. It is not your fault. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Demeter gently said before letting go of your hands and walking away.

You liked this version of your mother. Sometimes during the later months of the year, her eyes would gloss over as if remembering something depressing. In those days, her voice and actions were strikingly different from the mother you loved. She would act as if she only cared about what you could do, it was very weird. You knew that wasn’t who your mother was but something made her want to protect and hone your powers. It wasn’t like someone was going to kidnap you, right?

You sighed and changed your thoughts to something lighter. You wished for a chance to go back and look through all the herbs in the meadow. Mortals thought they had healing powers, and sometimes you laughed at the aspect of mortals. They had no powers, no way to heal themselves, no way to truly hurt each other, no way to protect themselves.

You wished you were human.

You sighed and your eyes flickered behind you, only to see something quite different from what you were expecting. You tilted your head in confusion and suddenly your eyes widened.

It was a forest.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you thought, When had that gotten there?

You were in doubt of what you’re were seeing until the image rippling like a reflection in water. You knew that magic. It was a covering, to stop others from seeing a forest. Your gasped softly in realization, the forest was a lot closer than you had originally thought.

Your freedom was a lot closer than you originally thought.

You took a few steps towards the image and it flickered again, showing the tall trees and darker green grass.

“Persephone? Is everything— what do you think you’re doing?” Your mother snapped from behind you. You turned around to see her steely gaze. You stuttered in a reply, but she only shook her head, repeating how naive you were.

“Do you know how dangerous these parts of the meadow are? Practically anything can happen! Let’s go home, Kore.”

Demeter had a faraway look in her eyes. She strolled over and was about to grab your hand again when another stopped your mother.

It was Jimin.

He smiled sweetly, looking at your mother. His eyes were in crescents but his hand blocked hers from reaching your hand.

“What a pleasant surprise! Demeter, Y/N, how lovely to see you both.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and eyed Jimin up and down, suspicious of his intentions. Jimin only smiled back and merely glanced at you. He started to gently push your mother in the other direction while holding her forearm. She was shocked and tried to get out of his grip. However, he whispered a few words into her ears and the goddess stayed still. Jimin looked back at you and gave you a comforting smile.

“Why don’t you go along, Y/N? Your mother doesn’t mind anymore. Plus, someone has much to discuss with her.” Jimin stated, already waving and walking away with your mother.

You were astonished how fast everything had happened, but nonetheless would not allow this chance to slip away from you.

You looked behind you once more and took in a deep breath. Waving your hand again, the mirage disappeared and there stood dark pine trees, tall and ominous. You took one step forward, and then another. You kept doing this, slowly, as you were still wary of what might happen. You stopped when you reached the end of the meadow and the start of the forest. Your foot hung in the air, hesitating to step into the different landscape. You knew, once you ventured in, it would be even harder to come back.

You pushed your doubts to the back of your mind and stepped forward. The ground was damp and cold, making your eyebrows rise in astonishment. You looked down and saw dark, brown dirt with hints of moss. You smiled, you did it. You had finally explored out of the meadows, albeit it only being a step away. You gathered up the courage and kept walking through the forest, passing by trees and rocks.

You were blissfully strolling through the forest, your hands swinging from side to side, and a permanent grin on your lips. Before you could continue your journey, you heard a whisper. You turned your head back and forth, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound but without luck. You tried to shrug off the sound, thinking it was your imagination. About to keep walking, you heard the voice again.

And it was picking up volume.

More joined in.

Your hands trembled and your eyes kept flickering between the tree trunks. You put a shaking foot back, only to hear the voices even louder. Your eyes widened from terror and without another doubt in your mind, you started to run in the direction you came from, only to realize that there was more trees. You didn’t see the meadow or your palace. You could only see more trees, as if the forest had tricked you.

You shook your head to try and rid of the disturbing thoughts. You didn’t know what would happen but you had to leave.

And fast.

You took a few more awkward steps forward, until you were running again. You didn’t stop when you heard the voices getting clearer. You didn’t stop when you tripped on a rock and stubbed your toe. However, the fatigue got to you, it was another human tendency you had to deal with while being in the current form you embodied.

You were out of breath and slowed down your pace. From a few feet away, you saw a cave. It was dark gray and looked like it would crumble at any second. Putting aside safety, your curiosity got the best of you and you continued into the cave. The cave was a lot larger than you had anticipated but you relished that you had some sort of shelter. You tried looking behind you to see the light from the entrance of the cave, only to be met with darkness.

Everything was dark.

You looked around to try and find some semblance of light. There was nothing. It was as if someone had dropped you into the middle of the void.

Maybe going out was a bad idea.

The thought of staying inside your palace, surrounded by white walls and plush bedding, felt like a dream. The sun shining through your balcony and the birds chirping.

Maybe mother was—

“What are you doing, Kore?”

You gasped and twirled around, only to find more darkness. You were scared and couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from. You dug your nails into your sweaty palms to try and stop them from shaking, but it was no use. Your feet slid across the cold floor, littered with sharp rocks that pinched and scratched your supple skin. You winced, not understanding what was happening or who had called out your name.

You heard distant wailing and a growing rumble of voices from a far-off distance. You closed your eyes and put your arms around your ears. You fell to the floor, hunched, as if it would protect you from the scary reality. The noises, the rocks, the darkness, the voices, were all overwhelming your mind.

You shook you head, trying to deny the danger you might be in. You didn’t want to find yourself in such a situation, all you wanted was to explore. And you got that freedom, but for a price.

You made out the same voice midst the wailing, garbled and soft, as if you were underwater. It sounded closer to you now, you curled up further, trying to separate yourself. You hoped that whatever, or whoever it was, would leave you alone. Leave you alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

Everything stopped as quickly as it started.

Your ears couldn’t pick up anything and it didn’t seem so loud anymore.

Maybe it’s gone? You thought, hopeful that you were alone once more and it was all a weird illusion.

You uncovered your eyes and lifted your head slightly to realize you were in the cave once more. On the floor in front of you, you could see your shadow, meaning a light was behind you.

You could go home.

You lifted your body instantly and turned around. You were about to step towards the entrance when you felt a presence behind you. You steadied your hands and tightened your limbs, ready to run away.

But you couldn’t, your curiosity didn’t allow it. You cursed it in your head.

You slowly moved your body to face behind you, only to be met with a male figure.

His black eyes pierced yours but the presence did not feel as threatening as it should have been. His hair looked light to the touch but you didn’t dare think about doing that. Slung around his neck was a small, black necklace, and attached was a singular black feather. He was wearing a black blouse, tucked into black pants. The dark outfit should have made it impossible to see him in the cave; however, there was a small glow around his body, a tell-tale sign of his power.

Your eyes rested on his collarbone and lowered to see that the first few buttons were unbuttoned. Your gaze lowered and you made out a strong chest, before blinking rapidly. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, trying to calm your racing heart from seeing such a beautiful man in front of you.

But you had to stay focused, beautiful or not, he could be dangerous. Very dangerous. This man could lead you away from home, or worse.

Man? No a god, definitely. No man could radiate such power and authority.

You heard footsteps and saw that he was now only a few steps away from you. At the same time, it seemed that the light behind you darkened, seeming to be farther away. You didn’t pay attention to that fact, only looking up at the quiet figure’s face.

He was emotionless but his eyes swirled with a purple hint. They were looking back at you without faltering. He slowly reached a hand out in front of you. You stared at the hand, it looked rough and you thought how it would encompass your own. You looked up again, to see his expression unchanged. You looked back at the hand and reached out for it instinctively. Something took over your mind and body and now all you wanted was to hold his hand.

Your fingers touched his rough skin, until they were intertwined. The man tightened his grip on your hand but it didn’t hurt. It was gentle and felt protective almost.

Like a friend.

The feeling of his fingers caused your heartbeat to quicken.

A sudden wind blew through the opening of the cave and you turned to face the dimmed light, squinting at the outside world. Three familiar, overlapping voices whispered into your ears. You could only make out a few sentences.

..It is done…

When the maiden joins her hand with the bringer of death,

she entrusts him with her life and last breath

He must take her to his world

until he has learned

the ways of the gods and humans.

For there they will live together as lovers.

For the rest of their days.

It is done…It is done…

The voices echoed on and in a sudden, the light that was once there— vanished. Your eyes widened in confusion and when trying to move, you realized you were pushed to the ground by an invisible force.

Your knees buckled and hit the ground. You tried to get up, but it seemed that something anchored you down. Or as if your legs had fallen asleep. You shook your head and kept trying, even putting one of your hands down on the ground.

But it felt different.

You looked down to see that you weren’t on the ground at all, but rather in some type of vehicle, with a floor of purple velvet.

You were in a chariot.

You looked up to see that your hands were still intertwined with the man and his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes set in front of him.

You didn’t know where he was taking you. You recalled the poem from the wind— no the fates, telling a story.

It was your future.

You knew you couldn’t escape what they said. The fates decided everything and it was futile to try and go against it. You knew that those three women were smart enough to know what is right. You’d have to trust them, even if it would be your worst nightmare.

You closed your eyes, but a few tears slipped out. You tugged on your arm once again, to find it still held by the man. His grip was harsher than your mothers’ or any you had felt, but not too restricted. You wanted to leave, you wanted to go home. You didn’t want this.

All you wanted was freedom, but this was another cage. You hoped that this had softer bars than the last. But it didn’t matter.

You weren’t free.

————————————————————

You woke up to the chariot stopping and the man pulling you up by your arms from where you were sitting. Your legs were shaky and still asleep due to the position you had fallen down in.

When you were finally up and didn’t fall down, the mysterious man clasped his hand around/in yours to support you and guided you away from the chariot.

His hand was rough and encompassed your own. It didn’t feel like your mother’s soft, long fingers or Jimin’s tiny, plump hand. It was different and his hand was freezing.

The entire environment was freezing and you started getting goosebumps over your arms, making you start to regret the choice of clothing.

You finally had a minute to look around since he was walking so slow. You realized that his chariot was drawn by these gray horses. They looked like they were shrouded in mist and you could see their forms flicker. It looked like the same magic that hid the forest from you. One of the horses turned to you and it’s eyes made you uncomfortable. They were pure white. They stared at you and you quickly looked away.

You turned around to look where the man was dragging you and saw that you were approaching a palace of sorts. It was made out of black obsidian and marble, with a bronze door. The palace seemed like it would crumble any minute with how old it looked but, it held strong. It was massive, you quickly realized after being in front of it.

You walked up the steps, your hand still held by the man. You looked up at the building, only for you to lose your footing and start to fall backwards.

You yelped out and tried to hold onto the man’s hand when he quickly turned around and tugged you into his sturdy chest. It all happened in a few seconds.

You clung onto his blouse, afraid of falling down the stairs again while your hands were shaking.

He wrapped his arms around your body to keep you from moving back. The momentum made him sway backwards and so his hands held your waist tighter. He regained his balance quickly but didn’t lessen his grip on you.

You eyes stay rooted to the feather on his neck and didn’t dare look up. You knew if you did, you’d be barely inches away from his face. You felt his eyes on you and you couldn’t help but shiver.

You felt awkward and uncomfortable, and embarrassed for some reason. You tried letting go of his blouse after calming down. At first, the man held on tighter and you became stiff. But soon after, he slowly let go of your waist, letting you adjust yourself to the small step you both were standing on.

You rose your head to his and saw that he was still staring at you. You turned around quickly and head up the remaining stairs while trying not to look back, scared of embarrassing yourself even more. At the top of the stairs was the bronze double doors, at least four times your height and as twice as wide as the doors to your palace back home.

To say the least, it was huge.

There was no door handle to turn or pull so you stood there waiting for the man to come up. You didn’t want to look back, still afraid you’d be speechless again or it would just be awkward, so you tried finding something to distract yourself with.

The man was only a few steps behind you and walked up to your right side. You felt his gaze on you but you didn’t look back. You kept your head up and kept looking at the intricate swirls in the marble of the palace. When you felt his vision shift away, you looked to see his eyes trained on the doors and his arm reached out. He placed his palm on the door and murmured a few words you didn’t catch.

“W-what?” You asked, unaware of what he was saying.

He sighed and repeated his words a little louder, “..Give me your hand.”

His voice was soft and steady. He talked with a type of elegance you hadn’t heard before. He didn’t ask for it nor demand it, but his tone didn’t leave room for questioning. Most people back home were either too cocky and brash, getting angry quickly.

You blinked a few times and decided that it would be safe enough to place your hand in his. You slowly reached out and held his free hand with yours. You stood there, confused and furrowed your eyebrows.

You felt connected to the man and electric buzz moved through your body and into his where you where intertwined. You heard a small and similar buzzing sound in the door and it felt like it was pulling you.

Your eyes widened and you let out a tiny gasp and placed your other hand parallel to his on the door. The door and the two of you were now connected.

You felt a bond to the man that you couldn’t quite describe. It felt almost like a string in your heart, tugging the tiniest bit in his direction.

You closed your eyes as you felt a part of your godly energy being ignited in your being. A slow wind blew and repeated a message into your ears.

..It is done…It is done…

The door creaked loudly and opened, making you and the man put your hands back to your sides. The man stayed silent as the door opened to its full extent. Once open, he walked through the door and went inside.

The string got tighter.

You looked back down the stairs and saw the chariot. You couldn’t see much else past that as there was a thick fog blocking your vision. Deciding that it would be better to follow him, you walked through the doors.

In the hallway, it was lit by torches on the wall and so you could barely see the outline of the man in front of you. But you could feel the string inside on your chest, pulling you towards his shadowy figure.

He turned left. You quickened your pace.

You walked for a few more minutes before you reached a smaller white door. Avoiding your gaze, he pushed the door open and walked inside. You followed him to see you were in the middle of a bedroom. Everything was black and the two lanterns in the room didn’t even help illuminate the room. You stayed quiet, looking around and choosing to go sit on the large bed in the corner. You looked up to meet the man’s eyes.

They were still as striking as when you met him in the cave, but they seemed colder, if possible. The two of you didn’t stop staring at each other for a few minutes. You looked away first, too tired from the day’s things to care. You knew what your fate was now.

You were promised to the man in front of you.

You had heard stories about things like this when you were younger. How heroes were tricked into marrying nymphs or evil spirits leading them to their demise for the ‘gods to be happy’. You were a god. This didn’t exactly make you happy.

The man didn’t look like an evil spirit. And if he was, he would’ve killed you by now. You must’ve been promised to marry him. He hadn’t tried anything so you decided that maybe becoming friends would be the best option. You laid your hands on the bed and felt a pillow to your side. It was fluffed up and had a velvet covering. Your hand grabbed the pillow and placed it in your lap before looking up again.

While you were thinking, the man had left the room with the door closed. You realized that this man wouldn’t be with you and you were beyond grateful. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You decided that maybe sleeping wouldn’t be a bad idea. It wasn’t that you needed to but it was the only thing you wanted to do at the moment.

You placed the pillow back where it was and rested your head on it. You plopped you’re feet on the bed and stretched out in a star shape. You closed your eyes and sighed.

A wind blew through the room again, despite there being no opening in the room. Your bare feet got goosebumps and you shivered. You curled up into a ball and hugged your knees to your chest. You hadn’t felt any blanket so this was the best option to stay warm.

You shut your eyes tighter, trying to fight off the cold and finally went to sleep.

_______________________________________________

Hades wanted to say something to you, but he was pulled away. His servant had called him in his mind and he had to rush out to see what the emergency was. It was a false alarm and Hades was more than furious. A calm god like him wasn’t supposed to show his true emotions and he prided himself on having a calm demeanor. But he was more so confused why he was so angry. It wasn’t an emergency and so nothing bad happened.

Why is there a tugging in my heart?

He shook his head and remembered what happened in the earlier moments of the day while walking back to his room. When he met you in the cave, his first thoughts were flooded by your own. For some reason, he could hear what you were thinking and even he was shocked. He knew how innocent you were but didn’t think that you didn’t recognize him.

He knew you.

Persephone, the goddess responsible of all things green and living in the human world. Also referred to as Kore by your loved ones. He knew about how you liked being called Y/N, like how he liked being called Jin. But that was it.

No one warned him that you were beautiful.

He had been in the presence of Aphrodite— Yoongi, and he strongly believed that Y/N could definitely rival the title: god of beauty. There was a certain aura about you that attracted Jin. You were curious and bold yet clumsy. You had tripped over air when walking up the stairs to the palace doors.

Jin’s hands went to his lightly blushing cheeks. He covered his mouth to hid the ends of his lips turning upwards. He remembered how he had tugged your soft hands towards him and your body hit his chest. Your hands had caught onto his blouse quickly and were gripping them tightly. He had also rocked back and had dug his fingers into your waist a little. He sighed softly and shut his eyes.

He hoped he hadn’t hurt you.

He didn’t want to hurt you. That wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He knew the two of you were promised to each other for some odd reason. The fates liked to play tricks on humans, but even gods? Jin liked to think it was immature, he knew that the two of you wouldn’t fall in love but he did want to be on good terms with you, maybe even friends. Hurting you in one of the first few moments you met was not the plan.

He opened his eyes and looked down to his opened hands. To anyone else, it looked like regular human hands. But what Jin saw was very different. And he hated what he saw.

He saw blood.

His hands were soaked in red and he couldn’t remove that scarring image no matter how much he washed it, rubbed it, or even poured ambrosia over it. It would always be in his memory and what he saw when he looked at his hands. He was the god of the Underworld, he took care of those who had died, both saints and sinners. He had to join Thanatos to wars and famines since the amount that died where higher. Or when a certain person deserved his presence when dying, for good and bad reasons.

With that on his conscience, how could he live without the thought of the dead?

Jin clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes, frustrated at the world and everything. He took a deep breath in and relaxed his hands to his side. He opened his eyes again and looked forward.

He knew it was futile to think more but he thought that the addition of you would make his life change. For the better. He knew it was dumb but he had hope. Even if that hope had become the size of a needle from a pillar.

He started walking again to his room, thinking about what you were doing. He should try and find something for you to do. His palace wasn’t at all like the white palace in the bright human world. His palace was black, black, and more black with very minimal lighting. He was sure that it was a huge shock to you.

He moved quicker through the winding hallways to his room and stopped mid-step into opening the door before thinking twice. He didn’t want to intrude incase you were doing something private. He sighed again and decided on knocking first.

Who would’ve guessed?

The infamous Hades, king of the Underworld and god of the dead, was knocking to enter his own room in his palace. No one, no one would’ve guessed that or even thought of it happening.

He knocked twice. No response.

He knocked again, albeit a little louder this time. No response.

He decided that it would be okay to open the door so he entered the room. He slowly poked his head inside, only to find you curled up in a ball on his bed.

On his bed.

Jin’s ears reddened from embarrassment and shyness. He quickly pat them down to try and alleviate the heat.

Jin shook his head to stop the emotions and thoughts coming into his mind and focused on your shaking form. He realized that the temperature in his world compared to the human world would’ve also been different.

He moved to the side of the bed in front of you and stared at your small form. You were shaking like a leaf, goosebumps on your forearms and legs. He was thinking of what to do when he heard a small noise from you. You had whimpered from the cold and you’re teeth were chattering.

In an instant, he brought his hand to his shoulder and clenched his fist, looking like he had grabbed onto air.

The ‘air’ he grabbed materialized into his huge coat and he yanked it off his broad shoulders. He wrapped the warm material around your form and you stilled. Your teeth stopped chattering as much.

You hummed in relief and at the soft sound, Jin smiled for the first time in eons.

Once he realized this, Jin quickly put on a stoic expression again while trying to understand why his mind was riddled with thoughts of you. He couldn’t understand his behavior, he was never like this.

He was patting the make-shift blanket under your waist to make it snug when your hand found his fingers. He immediately stopped and felt your soft hand.

Your hand was quite cold but you held on tightly to his fingers. Jin sat on the edge of the bed.

He then trapped your hand in between his and blew lightly on it to warm it up. Jin then intertwined his hand into yours and decided to sit on the floor next to the bed. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or do something that you hadn’t allowed. He also tried not to think of anything else involving you.

He found a place on the floor and put his back to the bed rails and tightly gripped your hand. His thumb rolled over your knuckles in an effort of comfort and to warm it up. Jin’s hair was ruffled from the times he had run it through while on the chariot or coming back to the room due to stress but he messed it up even further.

He knew how many mortals and deities he had to bring to the Underworld and the other troubles that were happening in the human world and Olympus. If he didn’t leave now, he might face the wrath of Namjoon or Thanatos, neither of which would end well.

He decided to be selfish for once and indulge in the quiet moment. Your presence was having an effect on him already.

He wanted to stay with you.

The string in his heart pulled tighter.

#bts x reader #jin x reader #hades x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagines #greek god au #hades!jin #persephone! reader #bts fic #bts #jin fic #jin imagine #good god the last senTENCE #yall are in for a tRE A T #SHORTER VERSION #bts fanfic #bts scenario #my writing

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charismastaticarchive · 5 years

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hubert hc

“fearing great heights, bow down at the waist. servitude suits you. defy your fate only by bloodying the path so carefully paved and tread before you. if the goddess will not love you, if your father will not love you, if your mother cannot be reached or touched or felt, then love the anti-christ, and put her on a pedestal no man, especially you, cannot reach.”

people forget.

the holy kingdom of faerghus was once a part of the andrestian empire, and the andrestian empire was once the place considered ‘holy.’ it was blessed by seiros herself---seiros’s blood, her very crest, ran through each royal’s veins starting from wilhem himself, its first emperor. seiros loved the empire as she loved her husband and her children. the andrestian empire was loved by sothis herself, and they were her faithful children.

that was a thousand years ago. wars have rocked fodlan since. the empire has lost ground and power, and propserity. even the religion which once lavished itself upon them has divided itself away---the andrestians, who once wrote the rules to which every devout person lived, is now relegated to being called ‘the western church.’ their traditions and rules deemed old or wrong or un-righteous or warped by time by the kingdom, always vetoed by the archbishop at the center of a new world.

but a vestra does not forget anything---least of all their storied traditions.

house vestra, at first glance, would not seem to be an important house. and in many ways it is not. it does not conrol the military, the economy, religious affairs, or any sort of public ruling. house vestra is viewed by many to be little more than a glorified house of servants---little more than butlers or secretaries in charge of servants, public and private meetings. their official duty is titled ‘household affairs.’

but only the master of the house can control what goes on in it. and the vestras run a tight, meticulous ship.

the vestras know every contact every emperor has ever come in contact with. the vestras know every known poison, every known common courtesy and tradition and proper forms of ettiquette in dagda, brigid, duscur, the kingdom AND the alliance (pity it is, that the kingdom and the alliance would be different, but their children learn anyway, before they learn to tie their boots or read). hubert is fluent in sixteen dialects of a total of eleven langauges and speaks them with perfect pronunciation. hubert memorized every known assassination in the history of fodlan (and how to prevent it from happening in the future) before he turned six.

but the power of house vestra does not come from their many talents. it comes from their Superior breeding and Superior Child Rearing and impressive arsenal of information dating back a thousand years (that they, again, never forget) meaning they are the perfect family, the only family, that can control every aspect of the royal family’s life.

and they do so. with vigor.

how the emperor stands and sits and how he chews his food and wears his crown and how he waves, who he talks to (if he talks to anyone at all, some emperors are far too stupid, not that a von vestra would ever say such out loud), how he talks to them. the vestras control strategy, the vestras control the emperor’s goals, and they control these goals before the emperor even makes their own, so in tune are they with their lords, who they worship as holy beings---pharoahs more than emperors, rulers with divine holy right living in their veins, a power that must be tended to with tradition, with order, with meticulous guidance and knowledge no one but a von vestra could ever hope to possess all at once.

hubert, an only child, had impossible expectations on his shoulders.

hubert’s father was a devout man. his mother was a quiet woman, who never talked. his father liked it that way. when hubert would try to get affection from his mother, her hands would go limp, and his father would glare. hubert was raised on the bottle by nurses---an oddity for the time period, but one the vestra’s saw necessary. they needed their child to be tough---to be solitary. they did not want to spoil him. he was too important a servant to the cause.

hubert was born four years after the empire’s firstborn son. this already put him at a disadvantage. he would have to catch up. hubert’s father had meticulously planned to have a child every time the emperor and patricia did---but unfortunately all hubert’s siblings had died in childbirth or worse. a disappointment to be sure, but one that could be rectified with the proper discipline instilled in hubert. they would try to have more children over the years---to match the emperor and patricia. but hubert’s mother would die from birthing complications when he was only four.

thankfully, a vestra never forgets. so hubert can still remember his mother’s limp hands, her pale face, muscles not even strong enough to pull her mouth into a frown. she was not beautiful, nor ugly. but she looked like hubert, weak-limbed with hard, dangerous eyes, even though she never spoke in the little time he had with her in between study sessions and time spent with him.

‘him’ is tybalt. edelgard’s oldest brother, the boy everyone assumed would one day become emperor, if luck permitted and he produced his crest.

tybalt was an older boy, (four years older, remember?) with auburn hair, and a smile that could melt gold into embers, a particular talent with horses. hubert was told to worship him. but instead he loved him like apollo loved the sun. when hubert’s father beat him, he pictured a glorious future, dragging the sun behind him on a chariot, racing through the clouds. when his tutors spoke of sin and hell and the wife hubert would one day have to take in order to continue his household---hubert pictured heaven instead, side by side, serving his first, most secret love.

but tybalt did not produce a crest, not at eight, and not at nine, not at ten, or eleven, or twelve.

but edelgard did. just a minor crest of course---but that was enough to make her a viable heir, where tybalt was not.

she was five. and where hubert could have resented being pulled away from his crush---he was falling deeper and deeper into depression as his future, and his father’s religious fixations---became more real and terrifying to him. edelgard was five years old, three years younger than hubert. and while hubert loved tybalt---and always would, because a vestra does not forget---spending time with edelgard did something that time with tybalt did not. it made him ignore his whole terrible life.

tybalt was a kind boy, a prince among princes, but edelgard was boisterous and rambunctious, an adorable bouncy little girl who was both bratty and a self-assured know-it-all in the adorable way only girls can be. with tybalt, hubert had begun picturing his father’s hell every time he saw him. no more clouds. only dirt&disease, bone-rotting flesh and eternal damnation.

but edelgard never forced him to see the clouds in the first place. she was high maintenance. to a fault. she was silly, and ridiculous, and sharp as a tack. she did not make him picture heaven or the sun---though she had grand beliefs about the future of the empire, goals far beyond what tybalt ever held.

instead she brought him down to her world, as only a child can. for the first time, with edelgard, hubert knew family, and he knew requited, platonic love, as edelgard made no secret of her affections with hugs and cheek kisses that hubert did not care that he would be punished for later. edelgard made him feel like a person, instead of an object or a servant.

and all that would change, for the worse, by hubert’s own hand. but hubert would never forget how special that little girl was.

edelgard and tybalt both left one night no more than three years later. his father had something to do with it, hubert knew.

and as hubert attacked every branch member of his house---his own father, who attempted to kill him in turn for disobeying him, as he stood his ground running outside the house to try to find edelgard (somehow tybalt started to fall by the wayside. surely the angel could protect himself. surely only the child needed him.). only to be attacked for three days straight. he did not eat, or sleep, he let himself soil himself if it meant another yard off the grounds of the von vestra estate to find her. but eventually he was taken down. and tortured. he did not beg for the goddess’s forgiveness as he was told to. he knew she would not listen. (she never had before. a vestra remembers.)

in his father’s dungeons, in which he realized some lessons he had learned from his house were not really just in case of emergencies... he stopped fearing the goddess. he stopped fearing hell. he began to crave it---a sadomasochism working its way into his heart.

he would attend lessons, repeat the motions, learn, and learn, and learn, paying special attention now, with spite bit into his tongue. but he would not be whole again until he saw edelgard and she explained everything, until the hate in his heart had a name and his vengeance worthy opponents.

he would follow the path he was given, the path he had always wanted, to be by the emperor’s side. he would make her dreams come true---and make everyone, even the goddess herself pay with blood. sothis forgot her children---turned her backs on the empire. but hubert remembers everything, and he’s here to burn it all to the ground.

despite his vitriol and his passion. hubert is ruled by fear, like a snaked coiled in a corner. he does not feel he can stand on his own two feet. he relies on edelgard for purpose, for clarity. he is most comfortable when treated as a servant of her will, as a mere extension of edelgard and nothing more. he no longer wants to be human. despite his fascination/aesthetic of the dark and occult, hubert still remembers those clouds, that chariot, flying through the air, being in love and holding that love tight to his chest. he wishes sometimes, to be a pegasus rider. but such roles are reserved for women. he’s better suited for groveling at their feet---not in prayer for the goddess, but digging himself deeper into the dirt & blood, to protect his emperor from things a child should not see.

#{ ch: fearing great heights; bow down at the waist | hubert }#{ hc: fearing great heights; bow down at the waist | hubert }#this is basically a backstory #this is not well written at all #but i wanted to put all my thoughts out there #so fuck it here it is lmfaooo #ooc #{ fandom: i am finally me | fe3h }

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jo-shanerome18 · 5 years

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Roma v’s Juventus

13/05/2018: It was a late start today as it was a late one last night and another late one expected tonight, watching Juve v Roma at Stadio Olimpico.

We had nothing planned so we wandered out the front door, veered left and kept to the footpath until reaching the traffic lights at the eastern end of the Coliseum. Straight across the road was Rome's foremost training academy for gladiators, Ludus Magnus. Built by Emperor Domitian in the late first century, the complex was just one part of a wider public building project undertaken by the Flavian emperors, however its closure came about five hundred years later when gladiatorial contests were abolished. Although only part of it was uncovered, it was enough to get a perspective of its size and layout. We weren't part of a tour but there were tours in the grounds. Still, a quick look from the top to appreciate the ruins was plenty.

Part of the Ludus Magnus, gladiator school with a tunnel linking it directly to the Coliseum. The rest is still buried under the streets and buildings

Negotiating the traffic was our first challenge for the day, negotiating the beggars on route to our next destination was the second. They were everywhere and driving us nuts already. Keeping the Coliseum, Arch of Constantine and Forum Romanum to our right, our next stop was along Via di San Gregorio and also to our right, Circus Maximus. Located in the valley between the Palatinus and Aventinus, another couple of Roman hills, the chariot circuit was apparently built during the sixth century B.C. by Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome. Also apparently, it was while these races were underway at some point that the rape of the Sabine women occurred. The Sabine men were so engrossed in the races that the Roman men abducted their unmarried women to be their wives. Good story anyway.

We were at the round end, the square end was quite a distance away. Over half a kilometre where the chariots would enter the stadium twelve at a time, six on either side of the entry that led from the Forum Boarium. Sitting above the entry was the presiding magistrate who would be either a praetor or consul and started the race by dropping a white starting flag. We were overlooking the sweeping curve or sphendone where the Arch of Titus was located and where the processions would pass through to enter the arena. There's not much left now but some remnants of the arch's columns are still around. The complex once held well over a hundred thousand people but was now a grassed over reminder of the power of the Romans.

The tower of Moletta, a medieval water mill built after the Circus Maximus became farm land. The remains of another Arch of Titus bottom left. It was part of the original complex through which processions entered the arena

Down at the other end of Circus Maximus, near where the chariots would have entered was void of anything at all. The dirt track adjacent and parallel to Via di Cerchi, toward the square end of Circus Maximus (where all the chariot prangs apparently happened) led us there but we couldn't get all the way as it was blocked off, forcing us to move onto the footpath due to tents having been erected for the eighteenth Komen Italia Race for the Cure (breast cancer), due in five days’ time and filling up the end of the stadium.

It was then down to a busy and confusing area where traffic came from everywhere and cars parked all over the place. This was Forum Boarium where the chariots would have come from to start the races. To cross the main road we had to walk a bit to a pedestrian crossing (not that it's any safer), crossed Via Luigi Petroselli and walked up Via dei Ponte Rotto, behind the Temples of Portunus and Hercules Victor and across the Tiber via Ponte Palatino.

Ponte Rotto (Broken Bridge) was known by several different names during its existence. It kept collapsing and every time it was rebuilt it was renamed. All but one span was demolished to build the current bridge. Tiber Island and the oldest bridge in Rome, Pons Fabricius in the distance

Coat of Arms of Pope Gregory VIII, pope for two months in 1187 was still there

The Tiber was interesting to say the least. Walking along the western promenade afforded a lovely view of the murky water and weir that ponded the murky water under Ponte Cestio, creating eddies that trapped litter and vegetation in what seemed to be a state of perpetual motion. The fascination of the spinning pollution soon became tedious so moving towards Ponte Cestio, we crossed the bridge and familiarised ourselves with Piazza di San Bartolomeo all'Isola where we would meet the guide for the food tour tomorrow. We then crossed the oldest Roman built bridge still in use, Pons Fabricius. The bridge was built during the first century B.C. linking Campus Martius and the Theatrum Marcelli to Tiber Island, named after its builder, Lucio Fabricius and adorned by two very weathered herms with four heads, hence its nickname, Ponte dei Quattro Capi.

Lvcivs FABRICIVS Cai Filivs CVRator VIARvm

FACIVNDVM COERAVIT EIDEMQVE PROBAVIT

Temple of Apollo Sosianus at the back. Theatre of Marcellus to the right

Heading up Via del Portico d'Ottavia, we were looking for a feed. It was after one and everyone was hungry. The entire street was packed with tourists with not much room alfresco. We ended up getting a table at Il Giardino Romano up against the front of the building. The food filled a hole but was expensive and somewhat ordinary.

Lunch at Il Giardino Romano. Tourists a plenty

With filled bellies we headed further along until we turned into Via Arenu'a and found a confronting reminder of the past. As we had encountered in Berlin a few years ago, a couple of brass plaques were imbedded into the footpath representing a couple of locals who were long gone. They were local Jews who would have been rounded up by the Fascists and sent off to the camps. They didn't muck around neither as they were transported fifteen hundred kilometres to Auschwitz and gassed within a week of their detention.

Just as in Berlin, the footpaths recognise Jews who were marched out of their houses to meet an early demise. This time it was Angelo and Debora's turn

On that depressing note we moved on and almost immediately came across Largo di Torre Argentina, named after a character from Strasbourg which at some time carried the Roman name Argentoratum. The ruins contained Roman Republican Temples and the remains of Pompey's Theatre. They also contained a few too many cats, although one cat is too many, and someone to feed them from a room within the ruins at the southern end. Tom and Beau were quite interested in them. But most others weren't.

Temple B, dedicated to Fortuna Huiusce Diei

Here Kitty Kitty. The Torre Argentina Cat Sanctuary

Piazza Navona was a few streets away and our next stop. The area was filled with all sorts including faceless clowns and mimes but we particularly enjoyed the buskers, old guys playing stringed instruments and entertaining all who would get involved. There were also the usual Africans trying the usual and plenty of artists selling their stuff. At the other end of the piazza were more stalls and Fontana del Nettuno. Beyond the fountain was a short lane that led to gelato and a rest.

Piazza Navona, ex chariot track

Soon after zig zagging through a few more streets we entered Piazza della Rotonda just near Fontana del Pantheon. The place was packed from where we entered through to the queues waiting for entry into the Pantheon.

Monumental complexes and such started to spring up in this area following Octavian's (soon to become Emperor Augustus) victory over Marc Antonio and Cleopatra at the Battle of Actium off of the coast of modern day Preveza in Greece. The victory occurred in 31 B.C. and was effectively the final battle of the Roman civil war of the Roman Republic. From there on Octavian became Augustus, the first emperor of the Roman Empire. One of his initial projects was his magnificent Mausoleum, followed by the Pantheon a few years later. What we see today is a radically altered Pantheon constructed by Hadrian during the early second century.

There were as many people as expected. Several horse drawn carriages trying to entice tourists into a ride had to manoeuvre through the crowd by using their size, albeit politely. Queueing up with the crowd wasn't too bad as the lines moved fairly quickly but once inside the crowds were just as bad. Everyone going about their business, admiring everything and kinking their necks, looking up at the imposing dome and the equally imposing oculus well above. While we were there a mass was getting underway. It must have been difficult to perform but the priest was probably used to it. A rope barrier only allowed entry to the fair dinkum worshippers.

Chapel of the Pantheon

Back outside though, Tom and Beau were focusing on other matters. The old fella cutting prosciutto off the bone near the entrance to the salumeria.

Mulling over whether to buy some salumi

Trevi Fountain was next. Not being exactly sure where it was, we followed the crowd and the obvious narrow laneways that led a path to the again, crowded monument. Unlike most other monuments in Rome, the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps are quite recent, eighteenth century in fact which is almost new by Roman standards.

Everyone was taking their selfies and as crowded as it was we could still squeeze through to access the lower and closest tier and manage to grab some seating. Then, Cec goes down, flat on her arse on the worn and uneven marble steps. We sat her down for a while until she recovered somewhat and then hung around and enjoyed the atmosphere for a while, as much as we could anyway. Then, down a side street for food, across Via del Corso and further on to GiaRoma1886. It was quite hot but we chose al fresco so Cec could have a vape, sitting on the footpath across a small laneway where the waiters would carry our tucker whilst looking out for traffic. We were in the shade so it was quite comfortable bar the noise. GiaRoma1886 was a pretty good restaurant. It gave the appearance of being small on the outside but upon entry was quite large and well set out on the inside.

We then separated. Jo, Shane and Tom towards Piazza Picolo while Cec and Beau headed back to base.

Trevi Fountain

From there Piazza del Popolo was our focus and the tram stop beyond the gate. Several stops along the way were necessary to watch the street artists, some extremely good like the hip hoppers and the dude with the glass balls and others a bit strange. One that come to mind was the person inside the box with hand puppets that would jump out and scare the shit out of people as they walked past. He didn't get us so it was quite funny to watch everyone else's reactions. The final stop before moving through Porta del Popolo and outside of the Aurelian Walls was the Roma football shop. There was plenty to look at inside but we were only looking for something to wear at the football. A cap and scarf for the football and a cheap Roma v Liverpool T shirt left over from the recent Champions League semi final. Liverpool won so they would have been keen to get rid of them.

The tram terminus was straight outside of Porta del Popolo, across a couple of very busy roads and into Piazzale Flaminio. We were a bit early so we headed to Tintori for a quick beer. Plenty of Roma fans meant that there were no seats, they took them all. There were almost as many cops keeping the peace. We stood on the footpath leaning on the underground access to the Metro, drinking beer and enjoying the goings on until it was time to leave. This meant queueing for the toilet in the bar. Even the cops were queueing for a piss so we all headed next door to Burger King. Even they were busy.

Ending up on the tram platform, we just missed out on the next tram but were amongst the first to catch the following. Unlike the last time when we headed to Lazio v Inter Milan, we went a stop or two further on and got off at Piazza Mancini.

Packed like sardines

Not knowing where to head after leaving the tram, we followed the crowd across the Tiber where we found plenty of vendors selling merchandise, food, beer and those shots of coffee that the Italians seem to love. We were right outside of Stadio dei Marmi, a fascist era open air stadium built under the direction of Benito Mussolini to compliment the annexed Fascist Academy of Physical Education. From a distance the arena was surrounded by classical statues but ended up being fake Greco-Roman ones. We grabbed a panini and beer before heading around the entry point and to Curva Nord to take our seats.

The security were much more organised than when we watched Lazio and Inter Milan last time. There was still security and police but it was a smoother entry. Shane still managed to lose his bottled water again at the hands of a police frisking. Once inside there were a lot more kiosks open than at the Lazio game. The only issue was the piss trough cascade that was overflowing all over the floor before the game had even started and only got worse during the night.

Our seats were located a fair way down the concourse and almost behind the goals. We were fairly early but as kick off neared the crowd thickened around us. At first we bought the beers at the kiosk but as the game commenced a team of vendors walked around with beers delivered. They were more convenient and the plastic cups were bigger. A win, win situation.

Pre match introductions

The atmosphere was excellent and although amongst Roma fans, we were at the same end as the Juventus fans. A point would have given Juventus the premiership. They were very rowdy and whatever they were chanting, the Roma fans around us would scream an emotional response of some sort. As if they could be understood.

The game ebbed and flowed with chances at both ends. It however ended scoreless which meant that Juventus had got what they had come for, a point. The only team that could have beaten them was Napoli who had won earlier and their score went up, on the score board. Everyone knew what was happening. The Serie A was in the bag.

Post match. Juventus players thanking their supporters

After full time the boys challenged the toilets again and we headed out, walking back across Ponte Duca D'aosta. It was full of vans selling beers and steak sangers. Tom grabbed a largey and we headed off down the street. Not wanting to take the tram home we walked well away from the venue until we hailed a taxi. First thing he said was that the beer had to go. After that it was straight back to the apartment.

It had been a long day. When we had arrived back Cec and Beau had just got back from a session down stairs and were quite rowdy.

A few reds and ice cream to finish the night off

A couple of more drinks and it was bed. Tomorrow an early one at the Vatican.

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percyjacksonfan3 · 7 years

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Finding Home (Part Ten)

Part One: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home

Part Two: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-two

Part Three: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-three

Part Four: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-four

Part Five: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-fiive

Part Six: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-six

Part Seven: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-seven

Part Eight: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-eight

Part Nine: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-nine

The giant claps gleefully. “Is he dead? The poison acts fast, really he should have died minutes ago.”

No one speaks. They’re all staring at Annabeth, hunched over Percy, hands cradling his face, pressing into his torso, her voice begging him to open his eyes, to say something, to look at her.

Percy doesn’t move.

“It had to be done.” The giant says, and now his tone is almost regretful. “Quite the demigod you see, much too dangerous to be left alive. And after everything he saw and heard in the last couple of days… I couldn’t risk it, you understand?”

Everything happens quickly.

Hazel staggers to her feet, holds her hands out, mutters an incantation and suddenly the demigods can move again.

Jason absolutely lunges for the giant, rage contorting his features. He slashes once, twice, deep gashes that makes Aristaeus howl and brandish his axe but Jason parries and keeps pressing forward, so lethal the giant backs up.

The Chimera moves to protect it’s master but then Leo is there, withstanding the fire, taking it, molding it to suit his needs and throwing it back at the monster. The boys move together effortlessly, covering each other’s weaknesses and Jason summons winds made of fire, throwing it at the giant.

Meanwhile Hazel is bringing every spell the giant ever wrought down. Every ward on the cave, every glamour, every mind trick is gone, and she notices a mortal lying unconscious just inside the cave walls.

She silently wills the mortal to stay that way until this is all over. It will be safer for her that way.

Frank begins to groan and Hazel looks at him, seeing him start to move.

She doesn’t stop speaking but she does back up, keeping an eye on her best friend, the boy she’s loved for months.

Annabeth looks at Piper as soon as Leo moves away from where he was standing near Percy. “You saved Jason. Come save Percy.”

Piper looks stricken. “Annabeth-”

“You brought him back to life after he saw Hera’s true form, you told me!” Annabeth’s voice is wild, almost a yell. “Do it for Percy! Bring him back too!”

Piper’s running over, coming to a halt beside Annabeth and Percy’s bleeding body.

She swallows the bile in her throat. Percy’s blood, still wet, likely still warm, is covering Annabeth’s hands.

“I don’t know if-”

“Try!” Annabeth demands, and Piper, not knowing what else to do, does.

oooOOOooo

“Nephew.”

Percy’s eyes fly open.

Hades’ oily face looks back at him.

Percy promptly vomits all over Hades’ throne room floor.

Or he tries. He dry-heaves, but nothing escapes his stomach. When he tries to breathe he feels his body move, but there’s no relief, no feeling, from the action.

Percy looks down and sees he’s hovering about an inch above the floor.

He walks, or tries to, and instead just manages to float a little closer to his uncle, who’s seated on his throne carelessly. Ceremonial robes with faces of the tortured souls on it is his fashion choice of the day, and Percy is reminded strongly of the first time they’d met.

That meeting hadn’t ended well.

Hades sighs. “You're dead. Really, why does everybody who arrives here act like a newborn trying to walk for the first time?”

Percy looks at him, not comprehending the words. “Dead?”

He thinks back, tries to remember what had happened. It takes him a few seconds of Hades’ scrutiny, but eventually he manages it.

“No, no, no…” He looks at Hades desperately. “No, I can’t be-”

“Finally caught on, have you?” Hades doesn’t sound the least bit interested. “Thank Zeus. No, thank me. Usually it takes more blubbering and dramatic staring off into the distance for memories to return.”

“There’s a giant,” Percy says, mind racing. “My friends need help-”

Hades waves a hand dismissively. “I am well aware.”

“Then help them!” Percy shouts, trying to stomp a foot but not managing to do anything other than kick some air. Skeleton guards appear from nowhere and Hades look down his nose to meet his eyes, thoroughly unimpressed by his temper tantrum. “They need a god-”

“I do not see why I need intervene more than I already intend to.” Hades says, looking at his cuticles with pursed lips.

“More than you- what are you talking about?” Percy asks him.

Hades raises an oily eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze steadily. “You are not in Charon’s lobby. You are not in the lines of judgement. You are not standing before three judges being tried, nor are you standing before me on trial. Have you come up with no reason for this? Does it not seem odd to you? Dead souls generally don’t all end up in my throne room, demigod.”

Percy looks at him dumbly. Really, he hadn’t even thought to wonder about why he was here, it’s not like he was an expert on death. “Umm…”

Hades rolls his eyes in disgust. “Honestly,” he says scathingly. “Do you know how much I dislike you, nephew? I would love to see you sentenced to working on castle construction for eternity, or working at the admittance gates- what a miserable job that would be- but that will have to wait.

“What do you mean?” He’s really trying not to get his hopes up, but…

“You’re not staying. As much as I love the pleasure of your company, there are some,” Hades sneers, “who have requested- no, demanded- that I allow you to leave. So when your friend calls you back I am letting you answer her call.”

“Demanded I leave?” Percy asks. “Who-”

Hades gives him a long suffering look. “You want me to list them all? Not a chance. Just know you have some very powerful, very unexpected allies. Immortals I never would have pegged for being on your side.”

Hades waves a hand. “Now go. Even being in your presence this long exhausts me. You have a giant to fight and a much more horrendous death years ahead of you.”

Percy’s mouth falls open. “You’re letting me come back from the dead?”

“Letting you?” Hades scoffs. “Demigod, I am ordering you. Get out of here. I don’t want the Underworld to suffer from your presence before the Fates deem it necessary.”

“But-”

“Goodbye, Perseus. Consider this the last favour I ever do for you.”

oooOOOooo

Next time Percy opens his eyes it’s Athena standing in front of him, on the edge of a grassy hill overlooking an ocean. Sun glares down on them and Percy thinks this must be a dream because the landscape looks suspiciously like Greece. He might even see Athens in the distance.

She turns to him. “Don’t make me regret it,” is all she says before she’s gone.

He blinks and he’s in Apollo’s sun chariot. “I heard you, kid.” The god grins. “Now go kick some butt for me, will you?”

When the words sink in, Percy’s at Camp Half-Blood, in front of the fire, and Hestia is sitting cross legged in the flames. Homesickness fills him faster than the Chimera’s poison did as she smiles warmly at him. “You belong home, Percy.”

When he draws in his next breath there’s Hermes, standing outside the house of May Castellan, looking wistfully at the house but never going in. “You’re a good kid.” Hermes says, never looking away from the house. George and Martha are silent around the caduceus. “It was Luke’s time, up on Olympus. Yours is still to come.”

Next is Hephaestus who’s in a forge, banging on some sort of blade. He pauses enough to look up. “Ares didn’t want you to live,” the blacksmith shrugs. “That was good enough for me.”

Artemis follows. She’s staring up at the sky and from where she is, it’s night and they’re sitting on the edge of a cliff. Percy follows her line of sight to be greeted by the view of Zoe Nightshade’s huntress constellation, eternal up in the stars. “It would be a shame,” Artemis says, “to lose one of the only men I can stand. You could still teach my brother a thing or two. Besides,” she looks at him, and she’s not in her preferred twelve year old form, she’s in the form she adopts for council meetings and serious matters. “My Lieutenant says you owe her cheeseburgers. It wouldn’t do to let a debt go unpaid.”

Percy’s confusion morphs into reluctance when he’s greeted by Aphrodite laying on a white chaise lounge. He really tries to meet her eyes, given that she’s scantily clad in a sheer white dress. “Your love story isn’t over yet,” she sniffles, dabbing at her eyes. “And Annabeth was just so sad!”

He can’t say anything before he’s whisked away and greeted by Ares.

For some reason he can speak now. “I thought you-”

“You don’t even want to know what Aphrodite’s giving me for this,” the god of war says grinning wickedly, right before he punches Percy in the face.

He feels the pain briefly, but it’s gone by the time he’s standing before Hera in the middle of a garden. She looks over at him and purses her lips. “It wasn’t for you or the silly blonde girl, I can tell you that,” she sniffs, right before he’s whisked away to stand in the throne room of Olympus.

The sight of Zeus, full sized and looming from where he’s sitting on his throne, greets him.

Percy would bow but he really doesn’t feel like it. Instead he just stands and looks at the King of the Gods, who frowns down at him for a few moments in silence.

He’d blame the rudeness on his very recent, very sudden death but really it’s because he just didn’t feel like it.

“Every single member of my family vouched for you, and many outside as well.” Zeus looks troubled and furious in equal measure. “Even I cannot go against the Fates. Don’t mess it up.”

Finally, the next time his eyes open Percy feels more permanently settled.

He looks around and realizes; he’s in the water just in front of the cabin he and his mom always rented at Montauk.

Floating on his back in the water just beside Percy is his father.

“Dad?” Percy whispers and he’s ashamed when tears fill his eyes. “I haven’t seen you since-”

“We killed that nasty giant in Greece,” Poseidon’s eyes met Percy’s, and neither his Hawaiian shirt, nor khaki shorts seemed to be wet from floating on the waves. Poseidon’s voice is as gentle as his facial expression. “I would have stayed longer but you know how my brother gets. He was especially grumpy that day.”

Percy blinked strongly, the tears receding as quickly as they’d come and lays down on his back beside him.

“Am I still dead?” He asks, looking up at the blue sky. Clouds drift past, the water is cool against his back and Percy sees the cabin tucked away on the beach.

Peace settles over him.

Poseidon hummed at the question. “Technically, though that’s soon to change. Your friend, Piper, is calling you back right now. Can you hear her?”

Percy concentrated, trying to hear anything except the waves against the shore and his father’s breathing.

“No.”

Poseidon looked thoughtfully up at the sky, eyes tracking a seagull overhead. “You will.”

Percy turned to look at him, keeping the water away from his face subconsciously. “Why am I seeing you? All of the gods. Am I hallucinating?”

“Are you?” Poseidon looked surprised, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that made Percy think he knew more than he let on. “It’s not a hallucination. Funny, isn’t it, how many of us are willing to stick our necks out for you.”

Percy closed his eyes. “I thought they hated me.”

“Many do.”

Percy chooses to not think about that. It will save him a headache, he’s sure. “I don’t deserve it.”

When he opens them his father is watching him intently. “Believe me, son,” Poseidon says quietly. “You do.”

“You said you were sorry I was born,” Percy says past the lump in his throat, sitting up on the water. “The first time we met, you said you wished I hadn’t been born because I had a hero’s destiny and that it was full of sadness and pain. Was this it?”

Poseidon’s eyes turned sad. “Even I can’t see the future, Percy. I know snippets, as Hermes did with Luke.” He lifted a hand to rest heavily on Percy’s shoulder. “I saw your death, yes. I never foresaw all of the immortals coming together to argue it, nor did I ever know the Fates themselves would overturn it, mending a snipped string.”

Percy’s mouth fell open and Poseidon nodded. “Perhaps your mother named you aptly after all,” he said, his eyes moving past Percy to stare sadly at the beach and the cabin sitting there.

Percy closed his mouth, new questions occurring to him. “Do you come here? In real life I mean?”

Poseidon looked at him sharply before his features softened. “In real life,” he mused as if amused by the question. “Sometimes.” He answered softly. “Not as much as I used to, and not as much as I would like. But sometimes.” His eyes looked over Percy, making him shift uncomfortably. “I am- so proud of you, son.”

The lump in Percy’s throat grew. “Thanks, dad.” He whispered.

He started when a new voice reached him, breaking the moment. “Percy,” Piper was saying, and he looked up, trying to pinpoint the voice’s location. It echoed in his ears. “Percy, come back. Please. Wake up!”

Poseidon smiled at him again as if hearing the voice too. “You will need a god when you go back,” he said seriously. “Remember, son, that I am always looking over you. And that almost three quarters of the earth is water.”

Percy opened his mouth to ask but Poseidon spoke first.

“And congratulate your mother for me when you see her again.” Poseidon looked at the cabin once more, the timeless grief that all gods seemed to share etched in his features.

“Percy, Annabeth needs you. Come back.” Piper’s voice is stronger this time, and Percy feels like something grips his heart and stomach inside of him only to give a powerful yank.

Poseidon winked at him and then was gone.

oooOOOooo

Percy woke up with a gasp.

He sucked in air greedily, sparing a thought to anticipate the familiar pain in his ribs and feeling nothing. He breathes again and still nothing hurts.

Feeling the air go down his throat to his lungs and out again. Feeling warm hands on him, hearing Piper’s gasp and mutter of, “Oh my gods,” and seeing Annabeth over him, hair hanging down from her ponytail, grey eyes locked on his. “Seaweed Brain?”

Percy smiled at her crookedly. “Turns out I’m not that easy to kill.”

Annabeth gives a half-laugh-half-sob and throws herself at him. Percy grips back tight, holding her against him and tucking his face into her neck, breathing deeply once more.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and her grip tightens to be almost painful.

“Never do that again.” She says brokenly before her voice steadies itself. “Piper might not be around next time and then I’d have to go to the Underworld, like Orpheus. You think I’d let you get away so easy? We’re staying together, remember?”

“I promise.” He replied gently, knowing deep in his bones that Annabeth isn’t bluffing. He knows because he would do the same for her.

He lets her go and grabs Riptide from where it lays beside him on the ground. He used the sword to stand up, half expecting his legs to collapse under him. When they didn’t he looked at Annabeth who was watching him from the ground and grinned.

Piper’s eyes are shiny with tears as she slowly creeps forward. “Percy, you were dead, oh my gods…”

He opens his arms just in time for her hug, feeling the newly found air in his lungs whoosh out at the force of her embrace. “Thanks, Pipes.” He says, and she lets out a strangled laugh of disbelief before backing away slightly.

He turned away, his dad’s words ringing in his ears. “Be ready.” He warns, looking to the giant.

While it seems like a lifetime had passed- which, Percy supposed, his had- there was still a giant and a Chimera to fight. Still enemies, which had taken the wrath of Jason, Leo and Hazel, but still stood standing.

Jason was lying on his back, fear written across his face, gladius feet away from his splayed hand, as Aristaeus advanced towards him. Percy looked at Leo and saw him once again try to summon a fireball only to have it sputter out as the Chimera looked like it was almost grinning while it prowled towards him. Hazel was panting, pale and sweaty as she murmured beside Frank, but her voice never faltered and her focus never wavered from the giant. Frank was still unconscious.

Aristaeus stopped moving towards Jason as he caught sight of Percy.

“Impossible!” He said as Percy stumbled towards him, Riptide in hand. “I felt you die!”

Jason’s head turned to look at Percy and a grin split his face. Percy was surprised at the strength of the reaction because he and Jason had never been that close, not really, but for a moment Percy allowed himself to believe that maybe in the future they could.

Leo laughed, backing away from the Chimera long enough to meet Percy’s eyes. “Did you have a secret cure for death too”

Percy’s smile twitched at his lips but he was distracted by a light touch on his arm.

“Percy, what are you...” Annabeth started, and he looked over and met her eyes as he felt her grasp both of his arms in support. “You’re too weak.” She said, eyes searching his, trying to silently ask what he was doing. “Percy, he’ll kill you.”

“Hold your breath,” Percy told her again before closing his eyes and ignoring the giant’s confusion and fear completely.

Three quarters of the earth was water.

Percy feels that familiar tug in his gut, he lifts his hands, curling his fingers in a come hither gesture. He’s filled with rage, he has been for a while now, and when Percy taps into it, using it to help fuel his powers, he realizes he can’t find the bottom.

When he opens his eyes Aristaeus’ axe’s blade has fallen to the ground, the handle gripped loosely in his hand as the monster turns to look at the tops of the trees, wide eyed.

Percy silently prays that Hazel can keep the giant’s magic at bay long enough just as the wave crests over the treetops and surges into the clearing.

He clenches his hands, containing the water to the clearing alone, remembering the mortal in the cave, and he makes air bubbles around his friends as the water from the Mississippi River rushes towards Aristaeus.

Percy surrounds himself with it, feeling it surge past him without knocking him off his feet. A sudden rush of energy fills him and Percy pushes the water forward, looking around to see the air pockets he’d wanted surrounding each of his friends.

The water is like a tidal wave when it finally reaches Aristaeus and the giant doesn’t stand a chance. He’s bowled over by the force of it, falling to the ground and the water is like chains, criss-crossing the giant, holding his arms and legs in place, making him powerless to move.

Percy stops pulling from the river, allowing the liquid around his friends to fall and flow away, soaking into the ground and creating little rivers and tributaries to stream between the trees. Aristaeus is laying flat on his back and Percy moves to stand overtop of him, walking across his chest and standing with Riptide poised at the giant’s heart.

“You can’t.” Aristaeus’ voice is a croak. His eyes betray him, flickering with fear. “You can’t kill me.”

Percy tightens the water’s hold on him. He’s tempted, for a moment, to draw the water from Aristaeus’ very pores out of him, to leave him a wrinkled and shrivelled husk. It would be so easy, too, that’s the worst thing, Percy doubts he would really care to remember in the long run if he did so. Just another death by his hand.

He’s lost count of how many people and monsters he’s killed.

It would be so easy to torture Aristaeus. Easy to prolong his agony through death but Percy finds he’s just too exhausted.

“After everything… You can’t kill me,” Aristaeus says again brokenly, and Percy’s resolve hardens.

“I can.” Percy replies steadily. “And I will.”

“You hate the gods,” Aristaeus says and his tone is honest confusion. “More than any of the others you despise them. You’ve tortured them in the past. Yet you are their fiercest protector. Why?”

Percy swallows, remembering Akhlys. It had taken him months to come to terms with what he’d been capable of doing to her down in Tartarus; to come to terms with everything he’d wanted to do to her.

But he had.

Long ago Percy accepted that he didn’t agree with most of the gods and the things they did. He couldn’t silently go along with them ignoring their kids and wreaking havoc only to leave others to clean up their messes.

But his dad was a god.

He knew all of the gods made mistakes. He’s suffered from many of the most recent ones himself.

Percy made mistakes too. Akhlys, Bob, Damasen, Calypso, Luke, Ethan, the manipulations, the pain.

He was mortal and he made mistakes.

So did the gods. Just like mortals. The only difference was that they had an eternity to keep making mistakes, and the power to do it on a much grander scale. Percy finds he can’t fault them just for being gods. It’s what they are, how most of them were born. Every mistake and consequence is a result of that.

And they’d saved him. Granted, he’d saved them more times than he could count which evened out the scales, but the gods had brought him back. He hadn’t expected it- the thought had never crossed his mind that they even could- especially when so many of them hadn’t seemed to care one bit whether he lived or died any other time.

Percy glanced over at Annabeth to see her standing and watching him closely. Her blade was in hand, her ponytail was a mess and her grey eyes somehow still had a sparkle in them, her mouth hinted at the ghost of a smile. The relief was still evident on her face and his heart swelled with love.

The gods had brought him back to her. He had to be grateful for that. That had to prove something about them.

“I believe they can change,” Percy answered Aristaeus, feeling the breeze around him pick up and he moved with it, by lifting Riptide a little higher. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

Percy felt power fill the clearing and run just across his skin, and the smell of ocean, of salt water and a coastline breeze, filled his senses.

Arion whinnied and Percy saw a bright green glow surround the horse’s injured ankle. His eyes were caught by Frank who was surrounded by the same thing, and when it faded the blood coating his friend’s skin was gone. Percy looked at Riptide, which was glowing green as well; the same colour that had surrounded Frank, the same colour, Percy remembered, that he had seen fade from around him when he’d fought the Chimera a couple of nights ago.

The Chimera that was currently yelping in pain, drawing all eyes towards it, before it went on to dissolve into golden dust.

Aristaeus’ expression morphed into one of genuine fear at the sight of the glowing sword. “No!” He rumbled, the vibration running up Percy’s legs at the exclamation. “The gods cannot interfere-”

It was the last thing Aristaeus said. Percy brought Riptide down sharply and Aristaeus dissolved, his howl echoing throughout the clearing as Percy was left down on one knee amidst a pile of sand. The smell of saltwater fades as the sand is gently blown away, scattered across of the surface of the earth.

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes, the only thing Percy hears is his own heavy breathing. All of his injuries may have disappeared, but he did just die and come back to life only to kill a giant minutes later. He felt like he deserved a short time out.

A hand slid up from the small of his back to rest between his shoulder blades and Percy tensed before realizing it was Annabeth.

“Hey,” her other hand pushed some of his hair back from his forehead and he looked up to meet her eyes, which were glistening. He blinked and realized his own were slightly damp.

“Hi.” He said back, soaking in the fact that she was standing in front of him, alive and relatively unharmed.

They were both alive. It was over. He could go home.

A sound escaped him, a choked and strangled sound, and Annabeth’s expression immediately softened before she settled down to kneel in front of him. “Come here,” she murmured, and Percy felt another sob escape him just as she pulled him to rest against her.

Riptide fell forgotten to the ground and Percy’s arms came up shaking. He wrapped them around Annabeth and brought her closer, taking full advantage of the fact that they were alive, they were together and for the moment, they were safe. They had all the time in the world.

“Annabeth,” he gasps. He doesn’t say anything else, just her name, but it’s enough and she understands because she just grips him tighter and keeps running her fingers through his hair.

“Shh,” she says gently. “I’m right here.”

He loves her for that. The way she doesn’t say it’s okay, or thank the gods that they’re both still alive. She doesn’t say anything like that, she just reassures him that yes, they’re still together. They beat this just like they’ve beaten everything else and somehow, miraculously, despite the odds and the fact that, by all logical reasoning, they shouldn’t be, they are together.

Annabeth repeats the most important thing, the most comforting thing she could have possibly said to him at that moment. “I’m right here, Percy. I’ve got you.”

He lets himself fall completely against her

oooOOOooo

Afterwards, when Piper and Jason have embraced, and Hazel has checked Frank over and seen that his injuries are completely healed, when Leo goes in and finds the mortal still unconscious and unharmed, they all slump to the ground in exhaustion at once. Leo sits beside Festus, the woman beside him, picking up loose pieces of metal, stroking a hand over what used to be a golden dragon’s head.

"Let's take a vacation," Piper says suddenly. "I think we all deserve a couple of weeks. I'm feeling Paris, personally. Or London."

Leo looks up. "London, please. Paris is too mushy, and we all know what a romantic you are Beauty-Queen."

Piper scoffs and goes to give a sharp retort but Frank groans, making all of them look over at him.

Annabeth and Hazel hover over the son of Mars and Percy looks at them. "How is he?"

"We have enough ambrosia to keep him stable for now but he needs to get medical attention." Hazel looks up and meets his eyes. "I want someone to check him, make sure he’s really healed."

Arion whinnies and nuzzles Frank's shoulder, surprising Percy. He has enough tact not to say anything. Now is not the time for that horse to start cussing.

He looks over at Jason. "So what they're saying is, we need rides."

Jason's brow scrunches together in confusion for a second before his face clears and he grins at Percy. "Whoever gets them here first makes the other debrief Mr. D."

"You're on," Percy says, ignoring the confused looks from the others and Piper's exasperated eye roll before he closes his eyes and concentrates.

Luckily Blackjack answers.

He swoops down, wings flapping, and Percy grins up at him, clambering to his feet. "Hey buddy, long time no see."

Boy am I happy to see you, Blackjack answers him straight away, annoyance and exasperation obvious in his tone. Porkpie here has been getting ideas boss, about who's in charge in the stables. I keep trying to tell him that after you there's a certain rank-

He's a tyrant, Porkpie chimes in from where he's nuzzling Annabeth. Those two seem to have developed quite the bond. First dibs on donuts all of the time-

The horse that pulls the most weight gets first pick-

"Enough, guys, can we figure this out at Camp?" Percy interrupts, and both horses turn to him with an unimpressed look, almost as if they were raising an eyebrow.

Which was very strange because horses didn't even have eyebrows.

Tempest appears seconds later after a quick drop in air pressure and the distinct smell of ozone follows him. Percy shoots a grin at Jason who just sighs in defeat.

Hazel and Annabeth are already moving to lift up Frank.

"Which of them will be able to handle him better?" Hazel asks Percy and he doesn't have time to respond before Blackjack sticks his neck forward, prancing up to Hazel and preening before her eyes.

Hazel stifles a laugh. "I guess that answers that."

Percy grins at the girl's amused faces and moves forward, helping to hoist Frank onto Blackjack, careful of his wound. "Blackjack could carry three-"

"I'll go on, Arion." Hazel says. "His ankle looks better..." She trails off and Percy glances at the horse in question. Whatever magic Percy's father had swept through the clearing seems to have cured the Chimera's bite and Arion looked just as impatient as ever. "But I don't want to put too much weight on him until we know for sure. Camp Half-Blood?" She finishes.

Annabeth nods. "It's closer."

Jason and Piper settle onto Tempest's back. "Leo?" Jason calls and Leo looks up again from Festus.

Leo's face clouds over. "With enough parts- if I could get all the metal I need I could fix him."

Annabeth looks at him sadly. "Leo."

"I fixed him before." Leo says stubbornly. "Maybe if I stay I could at least figure out what I need."

"Leo," Piper slips down from Tempest to walk over and kneel beside him. "Frank needs help now."

"You guys could go-"

"We're not leaving you here." Jason trots Tempest over to them, voice allowing no argument.

Leo swallows, looking back down at his automaton. "I can't just leave him here."

Piper places one hand on Leo's shoulder, another on his cheek. "We'll come back for him."

Hazel's voice rings clear. "All of us will."

Percy nods at Leo's inquiring gaze and he watches as the son of Hephaestus catches sight of Frank and nods. "Okay."

He pulls away from Piper and stands up, still looking at Festus. "Don't worry buddy," and Percy didn’t comment on the break in his voice. "You'll be whole before you know it."

Then he visibly gathers himself and turns towards the four horses. "So how are we doing this?" He asks, gesturing towards the woman.

“You said she’s okay?” Percy asked Leo.

He nodded. “I think she’ll wake up eventually… I didn’t do anything to knock her out when I took her, Aristaeus did something and I just found her…” He trails off, face clouded. “If Hazel just takes her back to the town I could tell you where I- where did I find her?” Leo trails off to mutter to himself and Hazel frowns before walking over to him and the woman.

She snaps her fingers and the woman wakes up in a jolt. Her hair is in disarray, her clothes are wrinkled and dirty and her face is flushed.

She looks around and screams, scrambling back straight into Leo’s legs.

The woman shrieks again and stands up, taking in her surroundings.

Percy wonders what she sees. The horses probably just look like regular horses to her, but what about the mess of metal that was Festus? What about their weapons? Do they look like guns? It had happened before.

“Where am I? Who are you people?” The woman gulps. “What am I doing here? Please don’t kill me. I’ll give you money, seriously, anything you want-”

Hazel moves a little closer and the woman pales. “What are you- you’re just kids, she’s coloured just like me, how can you all commit these- these hate crimes-”

Percy frowns trying to make sense of what she’s talking about but it’s Hazel who puts it together.

“We’re not going to hurt you, please don’t panic.” Hazel looks stricken. “I promise. We- we-”

Annabeth jumps in. “We’re a camping group,” she says, moving closer to get into the woman’s line of sight. “We’re learning horseback riding- well, we’re the more advanced group, and we all know how to ride, so the counsellors let us go on a little run as long as we promised to stick together.”

The woman looks at their horses before meeting Annabeth’s eyes again, eyes wide.

“We found you here, so it should really be us asking you why you’re out here all alone.”

The stranger looks around, meeting each of their eyes. Percy tries to smile.

“I don’t know. I was in bed, last I remember.”

“Maybe you sleepwalked?” Percy asks her and then he cringes, because it takes hours to walk from the town to here.

“I- I guess so?” She looks confused.

“Listen,” Piper hunches down in front of her. “How about you let my friend here take you home,” she gestures to Hazel, “and then you can get to work or- or your family.”

All eyes zero in on her wedding ring and the woman nods. “If- if you wouldn’t mind. Actually could I borrow one of your cell phones?” She pats herself down. “I don’t seem to have mine.”

Annabeth has a hand out before she’s done talking, cell phone in hand. “Of course.”

The woman gets up and dusts herself off, looking at them all warily once more before dialling and walking a little bit away. Percy hears her say the name “Marshall” and “I don’t know, but some campers are bringing me home, it shouldn’t take more than- hold on,” she covers the mouthpiece. “How far away from home am I? How long will it take to get back?”

Hazel shrugs. “If we go on horseback, then about half an hour? 45 minutes tops?”

The woman nods and goes back to speaking while Hazel turns to look at Piper. “Why am I the one bringing her home?”

“Blackjack has Frank,” Piper points out. “She can’t fly, that would be too weird. Plus Arion will be fastest, and you both already know where the town is. I’m sure Tempest could find it, but why waste the time? And she’ll trust you most, I think.”

“Why?” Percy asks, feeling like he was missing something obvious.

“My skin colour.” Hazel sighs and Percy says, “Oh,” dumbly. He hadn’t though skin colour would be an issue, but now that he thinks about it, and what he’s seen recently on the news, it makes sense. “Ok. Then you’ll meet us all at Camp?”

Hazel nods, the woman finishes her phone call and Piper claps her hands. “Okay great. Well, we’re going back to… our camp. It was nice to meet you…”

“Dalia.”

Jason smiles at her. “Nice to meet you, Dalia.”

“You too. Thank you, all of you. And thank you…”

“Hazel,” Hazel jumps in at the woman’s questioning look. “I’m Hazel.”

“Hazel, for being able to bring me home. My husband was worried.”

Leo makes a strangled noise that he turns into a cough and Jason moves over to say something to him. Leo shakes his head and turns away.

Dalia gives him a look but apparently decides it’s better not to ask. From the guilt all over Leo’s face Percy thinks it’s a wise choice.

“If we could go soon?” She asks. “I really do need to get back.”

“Of course.” Hazel moves over to Arion, saying a few calming words while she strokes his nose. “Do you ride?”

“My family owns a ranch, I grew up around horses,” Dalia said. “I ride.”

Hazel grins and Percy looks back and forth between them, almost able to see the horse bonding going on.

He looks over at Blackjack and Frank, wondering if Dalia even noticed Frank or whether he was made into something else. A saddle maybe?

With one last farewell and a significant look from Hazel to Frank the two girls are gone with Arion.

“Well,” Annabeth says. “I think that went pretty well.”

Piper snorts and rejoins Jason on Tempest as Percy swings up behind Frank, taking care to keep from jostling him.

Annabeth hoists herself up on Porkpie and looks at Leo. "Looks like it's you and me, Valdez," she says and Leo nods, slowly moving to climb up behind her, gazing sadly at Festus from the pegasus' back.

"Alright Blackjack," Percy tears his gaze away from the automaton and claps the black pegasus. "Take us home."

#pjohoobigbang2017 #percabeth #fanfiction

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cherryyjjk · 4 years

Text

forever rain [1]

pairing: hades!jin x persephone!reader

genre: angst / fluff / greek god! au / black swan! au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: isolation, slight manipulation

a/n: please check out the note about this series in my masterlist before reading! (this is the version where you’re taller than the members) thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy :D

Another warm spring day, with the flowers blooming, birds chirping. An overall happy theme.

You despised it.

How could these people like the constant happiness, the constant smiling, the constant joy? As if everything was right in the world.

It wasn’t.

Hermes, the messenger of the gods.

He liked to call himself Jimin. You understood the desire to keep more human names, traits. You had especially liked the name Y/N, it rolled off your tongue and stuck.

Of course, your mother despised it. Just like everything else you did that did not include helping her. She had ‘discussed’ the matter with you once.

“You’re a goddess for Zeus sake! You should keep your powerful name, Persephone.”

Only for your mother to pull you down to Earth to help the mortals survive.

It was a fruitless request, your presence was not needed. There wasn’t any weather changed except the warm sunshine to good rainfall every other day. Crops were thriving and the people were happy.

It was a paradise.

You were useless here.

You tried to reason with yourself that she was just trying to protect you but sometimes it was stifling. Couldn’t she trust you for more than a few minutes?

You had covered up your curiosity by saying that you wanted to help protect the young men who cut wood in the night. You envied their positions, they had real families. Your mother had rolled her eyes and with a subtle way of words, she had made your request seem like the end of the world. She kept a finger under your chin, bringing it down to her face. She pouted, and drawled out a familiar phrase.

“Why? You don’t like living with your mother? I know what’s best for you.”

You tried to keep these thoughts quiet, scared if it entered your mind, it would be on the tip of your tongue and your mother would steal it from you. Like your freedom.

Maybe another day.

He landed next to you, his soft pink locks bouncing before the small white and gold flecked wings on his ankles disappeared in a bit of smoke.

You wanted to feel something different, something—

“You flatter me, and yourself. How did you know I’ve come to see you?” He smirked and teased.

You flicked your eyes back down at his, only to see them gazing back at you. His eyes swirled with a mix of brown and gold, showing his power. You didn’t yield down and continued to look at him. He sighed softly and looked out to the fields that the balcony overlooked. He brought an arm around your shoulders and slowly pulled you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso and he put his head on your chest.

“I miss you, Kore,” He murmured, tired of keeping up appearances, “we all do.”

“I know. I miss you all too.”

A pretty bird held in golden cage. But you realized that, though the bars might be golden, it was still a cage.

And a bird is meant to be free.

————————————————————

You were roaming around the meadows again, but not alone.

You could never be alone.

“Y/N, where are you going? Come back here and don’t wander off!” Your mother yelled from behind you.

In reality, you had barely been a few feet away from her. You turned your head back at her upset form and nodded in acknowledgment. There wasn’t much you could do but agree.

Even in little things you tried to disobey your mother, such as shortening the chiton by a few inches at the bottom. It could help you run through the grass, if you could.

If she allowed it.

“Sorry Kore, I didn’t know I hurt you.”

“It’s fine.”

She looked at you worried, but you shrugged it off and sighed.

Closing your eyes, you tried to stay calm. Your mother wanted to test your powers again, afraid that your talks with Jimin or your curiosity was hindering it someway.

You wished you were human.

You sighed and your eyes flickered behind you, only to see something quite different from what you were expecting. You tilted your head in confusion and suddenly your eyes widened.

It was a forest.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you thought, When had that gotten there?

Your freedom was a lot closer than you originally thought.

You took a few steps towards the image and it flickered again, showing the tall trees and darker green grass.

“Persephone? Is everything— what do you think you’re doing?” Your mother snapped from behind you. You turned around to look down at her steely gaze. You stuttered in a reply, but she only shook her head, repeating how naive you were.

“Do you know how dangerous these parts of the meadow are? Practically anything can happen! Let’s go home, Kore.”

Demeter had a faraway look in her eyes. She strolled over and was about to grab your hand again when another stopped your mother.

It was Jimin.

He smiled sweetly, looking at your mother. His eyes were in crescents but his hand blocked hers from reaching your hand.

“What a pleasant surprise! Demeter, Y/N, how lovely to see you both.”

Your mother rolled her eyes and eyed Jimin down, suspicious of his intentions. Jimin only smiled back and merely glanced at you. He started to gently push your mother in the other direction while holding her forearm. She was shocked and tried to get out of his grip. However, he whispered a few words into her ears and the goddess stayed still. Jimin looked back at you and gave you a comforting smile.

“Why don’t you go along, Y/N? Your mother doesn’t mind anymore. Plus, someone has much to discuss with her.” Jimin stated, already waving and walking away with your mother.

You were astonished how fast everything had happened, but nonetheless would not allow this chance to slip away from you.

And it was picking up volume.

More joined in.

You shook your head to try and rid of the disturbing thoughts. You didn’t know what would happen but you had to leave.

And fast.

Everything was dark.

You looked around to try and find some semblance of light. There was nothing. It was as if someone had dropped you into the middle of the void.

Maybe going out was a bad idea.

The thought of staying inside your palace, surrounded by white walls and plush bedding, felt like a dream. The sun shining through your balcony and the birds chirping.

Maybe mother was—

“What are you doing, Kore?”

You shook you head, trying to deny the danger you might be in. You didn’t want to find yourself in such a situation, all you wanted was to explore. And you got that freedom, but for a price.

Everything stopped as quickly as it started.

Your ears couldn’t pick up anything and it didn’t seem so loud anymore.

Maybe it’s gone? You thought, hopeful that you were alone once more and it was all a weird illusion.

You uncovered your eyes and lifted your head slightly to realize you were in the cave once more. On the floor in front of you, you could see your shadow, meaning a light was behind you.

You could go home.

You lifted your body instantly and turned around. You were about to step towards the entrance when you felt a presence behind you. You steadied your hands and tightened your limbs, ready to run away.

But you couldn’t, your curiosity didn’t allow it. You cursed it in your head.

You slowly moved your body to face behind you, only to be met with a male figure.

But you had to stay focused, beautiful or not, he could be dangerous. Very dangerous. This man could lead you away from home, or worse.

Man? No a god, definitely. No man could radiate such power and authority.

He was emotionless but his eyes swirled with a purple hint. They were looking back at you without faltering. He slowly reached a hand out in front of you. You stared at the hand, it looked rough and you thought how yours would encompass it. You looked down again, to see his expression unchanged. You looked back at the hand and reached out for it instinctively. Something took over your mind and body and now all you wanted was to hold his hand.

Your fingers touched his rough skin, until they were intertwined. The man tightened his grip on your hand but it didn’t hurt like your mother’s. It was gentle and felt protective almost.

Like a friend.

The feeling of his fingers caused your heartbeat to quicken.

..It is done…

When the maiden joins her hand with the bringer of death,

she entrusts him with her life and last breath

He must take her to his world

until he has learned

the ways of the gods and humans.

For there they will live together as lovers.

For the rest of their days.

It is done…It is done…

But it felt different.

You looked down to see that you weren’t on the ground at all, but rather in some type of vehicle, with a floor of purple velvet.

You were in a chariot.

You looked up to see that your hands were still intertwined with the man and his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes set in front of him.

You didn’t know where he was taking you. You recalled the poem from the wind— no the fates, telling a story.

It was your future.

All you wanted was freedom, but this was another cage. You hoped that this had softer bars than the last. But it didn’t matter.

You weren’t free.

————————————————————

You woke up to the chariot stopping and the man pulling you up by your arms from where you were sitting. Your legs were shaky and still asleep due to the position you had fallen down in.

When you were finally up and didn’t fall down, the mysterious man took your arm, wrapped it around his arm, and intertwined your hands to support you and guided you away from the chariot.

His hand was rough and was encompassed by your own. It didn’t feel like your mother’s soft, long fingers or Jimin’s tiny, plump hand. It was different and his hand was freezing.

The entire environment was freezing and you started getting goosebumps over your arms, making you start to regret the choice of clothing.

You walked up the steps, your hand still held by the man. You looked up at the building, only for you to lose your footing and start to fall backwards.

You yelped out and tried to hold onto the man’s hand when he quickly turned around and tugged you towards his sturdy chest. It all happened in a few seconds.

You clung onto his blouse, afraid of falling down the stairs again while your hands were shaking.

You eyes stay rooted to the feather down on his neck and didn’t dare look up. You knew if you did, you’d be barely inches away from his face. You felt his eyes on you and you couldn’t help but shiver.

You lowered your head to his and saw that he was still staring at you. You turned around quickly and head up the remaining stairs while trying not to look back, scared of embarrassing yourself even more. At the top of the stairs was the bronze double doors, at least four times your height and as twice as wide as the doors to your palace back home.

To say the least, it was huge.

“W-what?” You asked, unaware of what he was saying.

He sighed and repeated his words a little louder, “..Give me your hand.”

You blinked a few times and decided that it would be safe enough to hold his hand. You slowly reached out and held his free hand with yours. You stood there, confused and furrowed your eyebrows.

Your eyes widened and you let out a tiny gasp and placed your other hand parallel to his on the door. The door and the two of you were now connected.

You felt a bond to the man that you couldn’t quite describe. It felt almost like a string in your heart, tugging the tiniest bit in his direction.

You closed your eyes as you felt a part of your godly energy being ignited in your being. A slow wind blew and repeated a message into your ears.

..It is done…It is done…

The string got tighter.

He turned left. You quickened your pace.

You were promised to the man in front of you.

You placed the pillow back where it was and rested your head on it. You plopped you’re feet on the bed and stretched out in a star shape. You closed your eyes and sighed.

You shut your eyes tighter, trying to fight off the cold and finally went to sleep.

_______________________________________________

Why is there a tugging in my heart?

He knew you.

Persephone, the goddess responsible of all things green and living in the human world. He knew about how you liked being called Y/N, like how he liked being called Jin. But that was it.

No one warned him that you were beautiful.

He hoped he hadn’t hurt you.

He opened his eyes and looked down to his opened hands. To anyone else, it looked like regular human hands. But what Jin saw was very different. And he hated what he saw.

He saw blood.

With that on his conscience, how could he live without the thought of the dead?

Jin clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes, frustrated at the world and everything. He took a deep breath in and relaxed his hands to his side. He opened his eyes again and looked forward.

Who would’ve guessed?

The infamous Hades, king of the Underworld and god of the dead, was knocking to enter his own room in his palace. No one, no one would’ve guessed that or even thought of it happening.

He knocked twice. No response.

He knocked again, albeit a little louder this time. No response.

He decided that it would be okay to open the door so he entered the room. He slowly poked his head inside, only to find you curled up in a ball on his bed.

On his bed.

Jin’s ears reddened from embarrassment and shyness. He quickly pat them down to try and alleviate the heat.

In an instant, he brought his hand to his shoulder and clenched his fist, looking like he had grabbed onto air.

You hummed in relief and at the soft sound, Jin smiled for the first time in eons.

He was patting the make-shift blanket under your waist to make it snug when your hand found his fingers. He immediately stopped and felt your soft hand.

Your hand was quite cold but you held on tightly to his fingers. Jin sat on the edge of the bed.

He decided to be selfish for once and indulge in the quiet moment. Your presence was having an effect on him already.

He wanted to stay with you.

The string in his heart pulled tighter.

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