#and that feathery mullet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cottoncandyangeltwink · 3 months

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Saint Peter x Overlord OC

Fallen Angel AU! There are a couple other of my OCs mentioned throughout and I will have art of them posted soon as well as rough summaries of them

TW: blood, needles and IVs, implied/referenced sex, violence, mentions of death (does get kinda dark), these characters are adults in Hell just expect that really

7.5k words

Tony walked through the deserted streets of Hell, listening out for any signs of life, angel or otherwise. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, the soft black and yellow striped mullet blowing gently in the breeze. Extermination Day was coming to a close as dawn approached, most of the angels had already returned to the portal above, satisfied with their slaughter. The demon shook his head at the sight of so many slain sinners, continuing to scan the area in case of a lingering exorcist.

“P-Please...” A faint voice caught Tony's attention immediately, sounding very strained and panicked. The demon glanced around, finally spotting the source of the cries. A red hand was reaching from underneath a pile of rubble, weakly clawing at the ground above. Thanks to his large frame, he lifted the debris from the person with ease, quickly uncovering-

“What the fuck?” Tony froze in shock as the person is revealed to be an angel, nearly unmistakable with the feathery wings, pale features and golden blood. What took away from his angelic appearance were the apparently new horns sprouting from his forehead and the skin of his hands and forearms being a deep scarlet. Not to mention the state of his wings, the edges were charred and feathers kept falling off, turning to ash as soon as they hit the ground. A large golden stain had spread cross the angel’s back, the dirt from the rubble made it difficult to tell where and how he was injured.

The angel weakly lifted his head, clearly in agony from every movement, his eyes widened in sheer terror at the sight of Tony, fresh tears forming. His body clearly had zero strength left, even if he could move, there was nowhere for him to go. Tony thought for a moment, the chaos going on around them, the seclusion of this one spot. No one can see them, no one would know. What will he do? His honey colored eyes stared down at the angel, seeing the pain and fear in his scarlet ones. Tony sighed deeply, accepting whatever comes his way for his next actions.

Quickly, he removed his coat and draped it over the injured form, before Tony carefully scooped the angel into his arms, taking off into as close to a sprint as he could manage without further damaging his rather delicate parcel. Each step was agony for the angel, jostling him around in Tony's arms, but there's no other way to get him to safety. Not anymore. Luck seemed to be on their side however, as dawn had finally arrived, the portal to Heaven had closed. All of the exterminators were gone, and with all of Hell still hiding away, there was nothing to get in Tony's way.

Hearing the angel’s pained gasps and whimpering for the majority of the run had Tony concerned with his situation, but it was when he went completely silent that sent a jolt of terror to the demon's heart. Without stopping, Tony summoned a ghost bee to check the angel's vitals. It seemed he had just passed out from the pain. Sighing with a rush of relief, Tony kept the bee in place and pushed his legs to carry them faster, beginning to smell the saccharine perfume of his territory approaching.

Finally Tony had reached his home, blasting past everything and nearly tearing the doors off as he entered. Once they had crossed the threshold, the angel seemed soothed by the magic buzzing through the air, the building teeming with healing energies carried along by a sugary breeze. Tony was relieved to see that it actually had some effect on the angel, but given the injuries he's sustained as well as however long he was under that rubble, it wasn’t going to be enough to even stop his feathers from turning to ash. Moving quickly, Tony cast a honey scented cloud over the angel's face, hoping the simple spell was enough to keep him sedated during this process. Swift feet carried them to the master bathroom, the demon carefully placed the trembling bundle on the tile floor. Tony could see golden blood seeping into the lining of his coat, enough to be worried about but not to take first priority. He cursed under his breath, praying he made the right choice.

Magic filled the air as his hands got to work, uttering words of power from a long forgotten language. Tony’s eyes began to glow as several additional ghost bees appeared, settling in a circle around them to create a small barrier. Tony held up a gloved finger and hesitantly caressed a single feather to test the magic. Indeed, time seemed to have stopped for them within that small bubble, the feathers no longer turned to ash and Tony could work without worry.

He checked to make sure the angel was still sedated before continuing, a silent apology behind his eyes as he began carving runes along the bony part of the angel's wings. As quickly as he could, Tony removed a glove with his teeth and pierced the skin of one of his fingers, offering his own blood into the runes he carved, magic pulsing through each line. Finally, both wings had been lined with runes, gold and scarlet blood soaking into the feathers. Tony could only imagine what they looked like before, perhaps pearly white and silky. Now they were rusty and ashen, texture almost like microfiber, the charred feathers soft at some points yet crisp at others. Dropping the barrier, but not dismissing the bees, Tony carefully flipped the angel over, immensely relieved that the spell had worked and no feathers were lost in the action.

The injury on the angel's back was worse than Tony had thought, looking like a stab wound between his shoulder blades. Not deep enough to immediately kill, but judging from how he found him, Tony figured he hadn’t been expected to survive. The thought enraged Tony, snarling as he retrieved his phone from his coat.

Several missed calls and texts from Carmilla go ignored as he searched for one name in particular. Dialing the number and putting it on speaker, Tony continued trying to tend to the injured angel as best he could, the extra ghost bees surround the injury to fill it with their magic.

“What?” The person on the other end answers, sounding only slightly annoyed by the call. The faint sound of grunting and bed springs could be heard through the call. Tony glared at the phone, ignoring the obnoxious noise and spoke gruffly.

“Get over to my hive now, I need your help with something. Bring your equipment and whatever blood you have on hand, I know you have some.” While Tony would normally avoid calling this person for any reason, they were the only person in Hell he knew of that had angel blood and ways of getting some.

“Blood? Why the hell don’t you just go get- Oooh, does someone have a new pet?” Their voice took on a teasing tone, the background noises now picking up the pace a bit. Once again, Tony did his best to ignore it, despite knowing exactly what was happening and with whom.

“Shut up, just hurry and get your ass over here now. You're gonna want to bring your camera and shit too, consider that your payment.” Tony knew they wouldn't be able to resist the chance to study a new subject, ever the curious mind.

“What did you do?! Oh, I can't WAIT to see-”

“Vul, please, I'm almost-” A masculine voice could be heard in the background, a bit of static and warping coming through as he spoke, voice nearly a whimper.

“GOD! JESUS I HATE WHEN YOU KEEP FUCKING ON THE PHONE, JUST GET OVER HERE!!!” Tony furiously ended the call, the mental image of that damn TV headed freak once more ingrained in his head. Tony refocused on the angel, wound now closed but his pulse is weak, golden blood starting to dry and flake.

After gently scooping him up, Tony carried the angel to his bed and laid him down as carefully as one would a porcelain doll. He dismissed the sleeping cloud, not seeing a need to keep him sedated any longer. Not too long after, a loud crash came from the front door followed by a couple voices, letting Tony know exactly who it was.

“Vulture, do you really have to open the door like that?” The first voice speaks in a bored, almost monotonous tone.

“I do when someone cockblocks me, now come on! We have science to document!” Energetically, the second voice commands them onward.

“Is it really science if we're technically magical beings? How does that work anyway- is that blood?”

“Shit, come on, Vaggie.” Vulture actually sounded a little worried and their footsteps quickened on the way to the bedroom. Tony had the angel neatly tucked into the plush blankets, wings splayed out across the mattress. Vaggie gasped at the sight while Vulture quickly started setting up the equipment around the bed.

“Why is she here?” Tony asked, gesturing to Vaggie. Though not enemies, the two didn't exactly get along, and once again, he would rather not have to deal with her.

“Because I don't have enough blood, believe it or not, so I called in backup.” Once Vulture got a good look at the unconscious form, their eyes widened in surprise and curiosity. “Do you realize who this is?”

“No, we didn't really get the chance to introduce ourselves when he was, y’know, dying?” Tony scoffed at the question, though pleased to finally learn the identity of his mystery guest.

“This is Saint Peter.” Vulture stated, getting a needle set in the newly revealed Saint Peter's arm.

“Not anymore.” Tony spoke flatly, looking at the horns sprouting from his forehead. “Down here, he's just Peter.” A saint. Tony looked at the angel with sympathy, knowing he's got one hell of a journey ahead of him. Vulture and Vaggie were finally hooked up and started pumping blood to Peter.

“Poor bastard, wonder why he fell.” Vulture started documenting everything from his name to the runes now adorning his wings, fingers tapping away at their tablet. “Gotta be something pretty crazy for him to fall all biblical-like.”

“It looks like he was pushed, there was a stab wound between his wing points.” Tony points out, still furious though not too surprised that someone in Heaven would do this to another angel.

“Fuck, no wonder he’s in such bad shape.” Vaggie’s voice was full of pity, thinking of what could've happened.

“Did you think about asking Lucifer?” Vulture asked Tony, they glanced at Tony over their tablet, arching a brow. “I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping out his favorite gardener.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m not just gonna call up the King of Hell for any random thing, part of the reason I'm even trusted to have his number to begin with..”

“This isn't some random thing, I think he'd understand. Besides, you interact with him more than any other sinner in existence.” Vulture encouraged with a half shrug.

“More than Charlie does. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him a call, he is the only other actual fallen angel that we know of. Vulture and I just kinda... came down through the portal and never left.”

“Ugh, fine, but you have to tell him who you are.”

“What?! No! I mean... I want Charlie to introduce us on her terms.”

“Whatever, just gonna make it awkward later on, but fine.” Tony stepped out of the room to make the call, leaving the three angels alone. Vaggie looks at Peter with a look of pure understanding, knowing what it's like to be thrown to Hell, while Vulture looks at him in fascination, curious what spell was used on his wings and what effect it will have on him moving forward. Tony returns to the room just as Lucifer appears through a portal.

“Whoa, you weren’t kidding, there's blood everywhere.” Lucifer was without his tophat and coat, his shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his own blackened arms.

“That's just from touching everything, all his wounds are closed now.” Tony explains while Vulture helps get Lucifer hooked up, having already been filled in on the situation over the phone and offering his support.

“It could be that he just isn't as powerful as I am, his body just couldn't withstand the fall.” Lucifer suggested, taking a seat near the bed.

“Makes sense, he lost nearly all of his feathers. I had to carve a temporal stasis spell with my blood as an anchor to keep them from completely falling apart.” Tony looked at the wings with an unreadable expression, back twinging sympathetically. Vulture muttered excitedly to themself as they update the entry for Peter on their tablet.

“Well, thanks to you, he might be able to fly again some day.” Lucifer smiled up at Tony reassuringly. Tony was about to speak when their phone started going off again. Deciding to bite the bullet, Tony exited the room once more to answer the call. Four angels lingered in the demon's bedroom, the low droning of the machines monitoring Peter's vitals the only sound for a few moments before Lucifer spoke.

“So... didn't know there were so many angels down here. How uh... how do you know each other?”

“I uh... used to be an exterminator, Vulture used to be head of angelic research and development. I’ve only met Tony a couple times before, thanks to Vulture.” Vaggie tried to remain casual, unsure of how to interact with Lucifer, still tossing a small glare towards Vulture who ignored her.

“Look, I'm only so good with magic and healing and shit. Like it or not, Tony is probably the best there is down here, even better than his brother. “ Vulture noticed something on Peter's vitals but only smirked as they return to the conversation.

“Tony is a demon overlord, I don't know how someone like that can be considered the best at something like healing. Overlords are monsters.”

“All this time in Hell, and you still see sinners through black and white filters.” Vulture rolled their eyes at Vaggie's temper.

“He frequents the Vee's Tower, literally has links to every big and bad demon in all of Hell, not just the Pride ring.” Vaggie was definitely getting riled up now, gripping the edge of her seat in frustration.

“That's just the business of being in Hell, I mean come on, how else do you expect a sinner to survive here?” Vulture was completely unbothered by Vaggie, so much so that they got more comfortable in their seat while continuing to monitor Peter's condition.

“Oh what, so he runs the hospital and a few restaurants, suddenly you can look past the horrible shit he does?”

“His brother runs the hospital, Tony runs the restaurants except for the fancy ones which David operates instead.” Vulture corrected, though Vaggie couldn't care less.

“I hire Tony for his gardening, wouldn't have my orchard without him.” Lucifer interjects.

“Ah yes, Eden's Curse, a harsh demon known for being cold and unforgiving like nature itself able to grow plants amidst the damned, how could I forget?" Vulture speaks dramatically. “I've known him the entire time I've been down here, and I'll be the first one to say, I think Peter got lucky.”

“Lucky? How is any of this lucky?” Vaggie was nearly on her feet at this point.

“Tony has a habit of collecting injured souls like a child does a hurt bird. I've seen him with several little pets over the years, though, they never seem to last for long.” Vulture commented with no small amount of drama and theatrics.

“What do you mean? Does he kill them or something?” Vaggie asked, concerned for Peter, but before anything could happen, Tony returned back with a foul look on his face.

“I have to meet up with Carmilla, she refuses to let it go no matter what I say to her. While I'm out I'm gonna pick up a couple things, I'll be back in a couple hours. Can I trust you to keep an eye on him until I get back?” Tony’s voice was rough, clear that he did not want to leave at all. Vulture grinned and reassured him with a wave of their hand.

“You go, do whatever you gotta do, I'll make sure your pet is still here when you get back.” Vulture mocked the demon, who wheeled on them with a snarl.

“That's enough out of you! Fuck, I hate dealing with your insufferable ass! Acting like you know everything fucking thing...” Tony continued raging as he grabbed his coat from the bathroom floor and donned it, not minding the blood or bothering with a fresh shirt. “I'll be back.”

~~~

“Tony, glad you could finally return my calls after abandoning us on the battlefield.” Carmilla spoke with no obvious trace of malice or anger, circling Tony before returning to her desk.

“It was the end of extermination day, you're telling me you couldn't handle that?” Tony asked with a bit of sass, having been expecting this from the get go.

“That's not the point! You're lucky nothing happened on your watch. We couldn't find you and thought there was a sneak attack, causing us to return prematurely and costing us valuable resources.” The weapons dealer hissed, regaining her composure quickly.

“Something came up and I had to take care of it. Besides, you book me for protection until dawn, dawn had come, therefore my time was up.” Tony stated plainly and Carmilla couldn't argue any further, sinking into her chair with a sigh.

“What was it that was so important?” Her scarlet eyes took in Tony's form, looking more ragged than she remembered him being before he disappeared. The golden stain lining his coat and faded gold patches on his pants catch her eye, recognizing the substance but holding her tongue.

“Sorry, but I don't think I'm gonna answer that one. If there's nothing else, I'll be going. I'll send some chocolate to make up for any trouble I caused.” Tony waited a moment, giving Carmilla a chance to speak up, before turning and walking toward the door. Carmilla eventually spoke up just as Tony was about to cross the threshold.

“I will not have you putting my girls at risk if your loyalties have changed.” Though she said nothing specific, her message was clear.

“Nothing’s changed, I’m still not about to refuse help, no matter who asks it.” Tony didn't fully turn back to speak, only turning enough for the sound to reach Carmilla.

“Clearly. You know I will not interfere with your business, but I will not be calling on your services next extermination day.”

“Oh good, I get to have a day off for once. Thank you, Carmilla.” Tony spoke with the restrained courtesy one would give a disliked coworker. Finally he took his leave, exiting the warehouse and heading for the tailor.

On the way to meet up with Carmilla, Tony placed an order for a couple sets of clothes, knowing Peter can't stay in the ruined ones forever. He enters the building and several demons scatter, leaving only the store attendant. They quickly retrieve the order for him, placing a bag on the counter. Tony checks the bag and scowls.

“What the fuck is this? I asked for a robe, not pants, do you not know the fucking difference?” After having to deal with Carmilla, the overlord wasn't in the mood to deal with more surprises.

“W-Well we don't make robes anymore. I tried telling you when you p-placed the order, but you were in a hurry.” The clerk trembled under Tony's gaze, clearly terrified of the overlord. Tony sighs, looking through the clothing; everything is as close to what he'd ordered as it could be, still very good quality.

“It's fine.” Tony pulls out his card and goes to pay but spots a pair of white gloves sitting behind the counter. “I'll take those, too.”

Satisfied, Tony paid for his order and exited the shop, dreading the final errand before returning to his home. The hideous tower quickly came into view, Tony easily ducked through the crowd outside the doors and straight in. Vox was already in the lobby handling some reporters when he spotted Tony, greeting hum with a strained smile.

“Tony, what can I do for you today, my friend?” His voice seemed pleasant enough, but he obviously wanted to get through this interaction just as much as Tony did.

“I need a phone, no tracking, no monitoring, not connected to you in any way, shape or form.”

“Break yours already? I'll have it done within the hour.” Vox attempted to joke as he retrieved his own phone, fiddling with it while ignoring Tony.

“Cut the shit, I know you have plenty sitting around. Give me the phone now, and as soon as I get back to my place, I'll send your turkey on its way.” That seemed to bring Vox back to the moment.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Vox zaps away through one of his cameras, coming back in a flash with a new phone. “You know how it goes, separate servers and connection, blah blah blah, tell Vulture to pick up food on the way, would you? Val trashed the kitchen again in one of his moods.” Tony snarled at the mention of the moth.

“Whatever, thanks for the phone.” Tony dropped the phone into the bag and left, not wanting to be in the tower any longer than absolutely necessary.

~~~

The sound of laughter was not what Tony expected to greet him when he returned home, the joyous noise bouncing off the walls. The door closing behind him was enough to alert everyone of his return, silencing the laughter. Lucifer was the first to greet Tony as he exited the bedroom with an awkward smile.

“Peter woke up a little bit ago, he's adjusting, but it'll be a bit rough for him. I've been here for a really long time, he's been in Heaven for a couple thousand years. Our situations are very different, but it looks like you have a good handle on it.” Lucifer offers a warm smile before portalling away. Vaggie and Vulture exit the room soon after.

“We're gonna get out of here too, keep me updated on any changes though, I've already added you to his case in my journal so you can add to it.” Vulture wiggled the tablet under their arm, carrying their machinery haphazardly in the other.

“Good, Vox said you need to grab food on the way. Apparently his pest ruined yet another good thing.” Tony grimaced at the mere mention of Valentino, Vulture having a similar reaction.

“No surprise there. Take care!” Vulture took off, leaving Vaggie behind for a moment. She looked as though she wanted to say something but ultimately held back, choosing to nod in farewell before exiting the house.

Tony slowly walked to the bedroom, finding Peter sitting up in bed. Peter is examining his wings, brows furrowed as he ran a finger over the runes now lining them. The floor creaked under Tony's foot, drawing Peter's attention to him. Peter still looked at Tony in fear, concerned for his safety as Tony entered the room. Tony kept his expression blank, knowing he can have a mean case of resting bitch face. He lifted an arm, simply to place the bag on the bed, but Peter flinched from the action, clearly terrified. Tony gently placed the bag down and left once more, stopping only once he's past the door, voice low and soft.

“I'll bring you something to eat soon.” Tony doesn't wait for a reply, closing the door softly behind him to give Peter privacy. Tony went to the kitchen, quickly putting together an easy snack for his new guest. Balancing the food on the tray with expertise, Tony returned to the closed bedroom door, knocking on it and waiting for a response. Hearing nothing, Tony debated on barging in, choosing instead to speak.

“There's a tray of food out here for you.” Not waiting for a response this time either, Tony placed the tray on a small table nearby and walked away. There were blood stains that needed cleaning, Tony figured he'd get some kind of work done in the meantime.

~~~

Peter remained in the bed, overwhelmed by everything that's happened to him over the course of several hours. First, he accidentally discovered the existence of extermination day, confronted Adam and Lute in sheer horror. Followed by Lute stabbing him in the back and Adam dropping him over the edge of Heaven. Lute’s voice still echoed in his ears.

“If you have so much sympathy for the damned, why don’t you share their fate?” And so, he fell the old fashioned way, face first and wings ablaze. Peter used his hands to shield his face, the burning searing his arms to the bone, flesh turning a sickening red. Peter's head felt like it was splitting open when the horns sprouted, tears pouring from his eyes.

The fall felt like it lasted an eternity, so much pain, so many sensations Peter never thought he'd feel again. He never even realized the ground was coming up closer until he crashed into it, a small building collapsing from the impact and filling the crater he'd created.

For the entire night, Peter struggled to escape, using every bit of strength he had to reach through the debris. He cried out for help anytime he heard someone nearby, but over time he had begun to feel hopeless, thinking he might actually die in Hell.

Peter's heart broke, lying under the rocks, slowly bleeding out, begging for help from the sinners for whom he felt such pity for. The only reason he found himself in this place to begin with was because he felt sorry for them and wished to help. How ironic, that now he needed a demon to feel sorry for him, but is dying as they ignore him, caring only for themselves.

Eventually the screams and chaos died down, only confirming Peter's worst fears. Too long had he waited for any sign of someone coming by, he felt his strength giving out, like he was giving up, when he heard it. The sound of someone walking nearby, a few sets of feet in fact. Peter's heart began to soar, his last chance. With a small boost of energy, Peter moved a little closer to where he had his arm, hoping to be heard.

“P-Please...” He forced his voice as much as he could, the strain beginning to be too much. Luck seemed to be on his side this time, as he could hear a pair of feet coming his way. Peter claws at the ground, trying to get even closer but stops when the stranger begins lifting the debris off of him. Peter was saved! He was going to make it out if here somehow-

“What the fuck?” The demon spoke with a rough voice, sharp teeth lining its mouth. A chill of fear froze Peter to his core, body unable to move, to flee. He could feel the burning of his feathers, knowing one flap would cause his wings to fall apart completely. Peter was at the mercy of this demon.

The both of them did nothing for a while but stare at each other, until the demon removed his jacket and lifted Peter into his arms. The action caused Peter to cry out in pain, tears flowing anew as he clung to the demon's shirt.

After everything that had happened, Peter's body gave out and he lost consciousness, hoping he could trust the demon and that he'd made the right decision. Peter eventually regained consciousness, however upon hearing voices, chose to feign sleep.

“Tony is a demon overlord-” The first thing he heard when he woke up, Peter prayed silently that they weren't talking about his savior. That would mean they'd done terrible things as a human to gain significant power in Hell, according to what he'd always been told by Sera and Adam. Was Peter in the clutches of a serial killer?

“Ah yes, Eden's Curse, a harsh demon known for being cold and unforgiving like nature itself.” Peter heard another voice chime in, only adding to his fears and sending him on a spiral towards a panic attack. His hearing faded in and out, catching bits and pieces of the conversation, things about being a pet, and that terrible things happen to them in his care. There was shouting and a slamming door, Peter's heart rate was through the roof and finally someone spoke to him.

“Hey, you gotta breathe or you'll hyperventilate.” The voice from before helped him sit up and regulate his breathing, bringing him back down and slowing his heart. “There we go, can't have your heart give out right after we worked so hard to keep it pumping.”

“We? Tony did most of the work while we sat here pumping blood by hand.” A masculine voice chimed in. “Though, I will say, he has gotten his color back now.”

Peter looked at the three strangers, all hooked up to a couple machines and giving him angelic blood. He couldn’t believe there were other angels in Hell... wait- Peter looked to the male in a horrifying realization.

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d notice.” Lucifer stated simply, a mix of emotions in his eyes.

“We thought Lucifer might be able to offer some insight on your situation. I'm Vulture, or if you’re talking to Tony I'm called Turkey.” Vulture laughed, unbothered by the nickname. “And that one is Vaggie, as far as we know, the four of us are the only angels in Hell.” Peter tried to speak but found nothing came out. “Easy there, I'm sure you just overdid it on the way here and everything, don't worry about it. Your name is Peter, right?”

Peter nodded, noticing the lack of his official- his former title, reminding him of his new separation from Heaven. Reflexively, he tried wrapping his wings around himself for comfort, only to wince when he tried. His eyes widened when he saw the runes carved into his wings, reaching to run a finger along them. The sight of his burned arms only furthered his startled reaction, breathing turning shallow again.

“Whoa, take it easy, I know there's a lot going on but you've gotta stay calm.” Lucifer spoke in a soothing tone. “It takes a while to get used to the changes, but I can show you how to hide the horns if you-” At the mention of horns, Peter panics once more, hands flying straight for the additions to his face.

“Nice going, why don't we just give him a mirror, too?” Vulture sassed but Peter was looking at them straight on, nodding. “Ugh, fine, but I'm not looking for a mirror, so just use this.” Vulture opened the camera on their tablet and turned it around for Peter to examine himself. The horns he expected but was still surprised to actually see, it was the fangs and changes to his eyes that had his attention, he could hardly recognize himself now. Tears started falling down his cheeks as he took it all in, just in absolute disbelief.

“You can actually tuck away the horns and your wings for just walking around. Here, I'll show you.” Lucifer summoned his own wings and much larger horns, a small fire springing to life between them, a powerful aura filling the air. “See? Easy as pie, just focus on them with a little magic and poof!”

Peter watched Lucifer's demonstration and decided to give it a try, getting the horns to disappear first, the wings took a little extra focus but did eventually get tucked away as well. While still in the mindset, Peter tried the reverse and brought them all back out, surprised to find it actually worked. He looked back at his “reflection” when he noticed his eyes glowing fully red. The shock caused the glow to dissipate when he blinked again, showing his yellow sclera and scarlet iris once more.

“Oh yeah, that's normal for when you mess with your abilities, don’t worry.” Lucifer reassures him while Vulture starts breaking down the various IVs and transfusion equipment, releasing everyone from their needle shackles.

“You're probably not gonna want to eat, but you need to. You can't starve to death, but if you ignore it, you’ll feel like you're dying. Just one of the new things to adjust to here.” Vulture shrugged.

Peter watched as the three others slowly stood, carefully stretching after sitting for so long. Peter couldn't help but wonder why the King of Hell was so willing to help out, having expected him to be menacing and ruthless from the tales he heard in Heaven. So much of his understanding of Hell is being called under question, Peter can hardly keep up.

“Hey, Peter.” Vaggie stood close to the bed, speaking to Peter in a quiet voice. “Don't let Tony take advantage of you or anything. Overlords are dangerous people, and Tony is one of the most powerful ones out there. I have no idea what he's capable of, just... don't let your guard down.”

“Oh Vaggie, lighten up will you?” Vulture taunted from across the room. “If I had plans to kill someone, I wouldn't be going through the effort to fix them up like this. Peter is safer than most of the poor bastards stumbling around outside.”

“You said it yourself, things happen to the people under his care, all I'm saying is he should be careful.” Vaggie defended, arms crossed against her chest.

“No one but Tony knows, which means we don't know what led up to them disappearing either, I wouldn’t be so quick to judge someone if I were you. That big old bumblebee has a lot more to him than he'll let you think. For crying out loud, he runs a chocolate company, can't be that evil when you're making candy.” Vulture laughed at their own attempt at a joke when the sound of the front door could be heard, Tony had returned.

~~~

Peter recalled his wings and horns like Lucifer had shown him, feeling strangely off balance without the extra weight on his back. After Tony had left the last time, Peter decided to at least glance at the contents of the bag on the bed.

Inside it was a small device and several pieces of clothing. He set the device to the side, not sure what to do with it, and focused on the clothes. Peter was surprised to find an outfit very similar to his current one, though sporting a pair of tan slacks instead of a robe. There was a set of pajamas in the bag as well, some underwear and socks, and folded up neatly was a pair of white gloves with golden buttons. Peter held the gloves delicately in his crimson fingers, running a thumb over the material. Perhaps there was more to the overlord than Peter originally believed.

Peter carefully got out of bed, his body stiff but surprisingly painless. Opening the door slowly to avoid making noise, he found the tray of food and quickly retreated with his prize. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was, having forgotten the sensation of hunger entirely during his time in Heaven. Peter had forgotten many things about being alive during his time in Heaven.

The tray contained a charcuterie board, a few different cheeses and spreads paired with fruits and crackers. There was also a bowl of what smelled like a broth of some kind and a glass of water. Peter set the tray on the bedside table, picking off of it now and then, but greedily drinking the water to soothe his sore throat.

Considering everything Tony had done to get Peter to this point, the angel felt he could assume he's safe for the time being. Peter decided to remove his ruined clothing, his last reminders of Heaven, carefully folding and setting them to the side. He could feel the flaking of dried blood on his skin, and not wanting to feel that inside the new clothes, Peter looked for the bathroom. An easy enough task, though the sight before him was a bit unsettling. He knew he needed a lot of blood to replace what he’d lost, but seeing a large pool of what he knows to be his blood just made it more real for him. He almost died.

Peter looked to the mirror nearby, seeing his full body for the first time since his transformation. If he hadn't known any better, Peter would think he looked no different, but the whites of his eyes were stained yellow, and his once sapphire eyes were now rubies. Doing his best to ignore the fatal reminder on the floor, Peter located a towel and some bathing supplies. They had a natural scent to them, smelling like an herb garden and adding to the calming effect of the honey scented air.

Peter made quick work of his shower, scrubbing away everything he could, rinsing away every flake of blood and bit of dirt clinging to his body. When he was sure he'd washed away every bit of soap and dirt, Peter shut off the water and exited the shower. Dried and feeling much better, Peter exited the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his waist. For it being Hell, this place seemed pretty nice, almost comfortable even.

He pulled the new pajamas out of the bag as well as a pair of socks and underwear, the clean clothes fitting him surprisingly well. Picking from the tray a bit more, Peter wandered around the bedroom, studying the decor. Shelves and bookcases lined the walls, a table covered in art supplies tucked away in the back corner of the room. It gave a very cozy, lived in feel, not quite the terrifying image Peter had concocted after hearing everyone talk about Tony.

There were a few framed pictures adorning the shelves, Tony easily spotted in the center with random demons around him. He seemed to be very happy in the photos. Continuing along the wall, Peter reached a window with a cushioned bench, an easel sat nearby with a covered canvas. The view from the window was pleasant in a way, clouds obscured the sky and the hellish landscape was relatively calm still. This was his new home, whether he liked it or not.

Exhaustion began to set in, and though he desperately wanted to crawl back into the bed, there was blood staining the sheets and it was beginning to unsettle Peter. After a quick look around, he had determined the bedding was stored elsewhere. He would have to venture out if he really wanted clean sheets.

~~~

Tony had cleaned up the trail of blood rather quickly, it only having started halfway to the bathroom. While he cleaned, Tony heard the sound of the water kick on, recognizing the shower in use. He found relief knowing Peter was at least comfortable enough to explore. Tony finished cleaning before Peter finished his shower, and upon remembering the bloody mess of a bed, decided to retrieve a full clean sheet set.

Tony debated changing the sheets while Peter was showering, but that plan was quickly dashed when the water shut off. Cursing himself internally, Tony returned to the foyer, planning out the next move. The door to the bedroom opens, rooting Tony to the spot. Should he hide? Wait it out? After a couple seconds there was still no sign of Peter, leading Tony to assume he had gone the other way down the hall.

Now was his only chance, Tony carried the bedding and went straight to work. Reminiscent of his human days, Tony stripped the linen from the bed in record time, making quick work of replacing it and making the bed look neat. There was no getting the blood out of these sheets, so Tony made the executive decision to use them to clean the bathroom as well. He would definitely come back to give it a proper clean later, but for now he just needed to get the blood off the floor.

Satisfied with his work, Tony exited the room, ruined sheets in tow, using the ghost bees scattered around the house to make sure he wouldn't scare Peter. One set of fabric was nothing, easily replaced. He just wanted to make sure Peter was comfortable.

~~~

After getting turned around too many times, Peter was honestly relieved to find the bedroom, not wanting to search for another minute. As he approached the bed, he almost didn't notice the lack of stains on the sheets, pulling the blankets aside to confirm, Peter was touched by the gesture.

Perhaps this wasn't so bad, Peter wouldn't let his guard down so easily, but he would be lying if he said this wasn't a little nice. Every interaction Peter had with Tony played on repeat in his mind, he couldn't think of a single moment so far where his life had been at risk since being rescued. Rescued.

Peter also faced a moral issue as well, having been told for a very long time that everyone in Hell was untrustworthy and dangerous, that sinners were everything wrong with humanity. Sure they made mistakes while alive, but Peter never thought they should suffer damnation for all eternity. The infamous overlord of Hell whose home Peter now resided in was intimidating to be sure, but had hardly displayed anything other than concern for the fallen angel.

Having made up his mind, Peter collected the tray of food, now void of even a crumb, and left the bedroom, holding on to whatever bit of courage he has. Seeing as he never found the kitchen on his previous outing, Peter chose the opposite path from the room, leading him to a foyer type area. On one of the couches sat Tony, head held up by his elbow propped on the back of the couch. From this angle, Peter couldn’t see his face, but it didn't seem like he'd noticed Peter's presence.

Peter's courage wavered, seeing the overlord so close was a bit much still as Peter wasn't sure on his role in all of this and didn't know what Tony's plans were for the angel. After finding the kitchen and setting the tray down, Peter tiptoed around the foyer, giving the couch a wide berth until he could finally see Tony's face, snoozing away.

Peter stopped, staring for a moment in surprise before noticing Tony’s ragged appearance. He hadn't bothered cleaning himself up in all this time, pants covered in dirt and faded golden patches, arms still coated in the shimmering blood. Looking at him now, Peter could almost see past it all, seeing a hint of softness in his relaxed face. He even seemed a bit handsome, despite his fearsome exterior and reputation. The angel didn't dare step any closer, not this time, and decided to leave a note instead.

Quickly and quietly, Peter used some of the art supplies to write a simple thank you note for Tony, leaving it next to the tray in the kitchen. As he was about to return to the bedroom, Tony shifted on the couch and grunted, startling Peter and causing him to make a dash back to the safety of the bedroom, accidentally closing the door a bit too hard.

~~~

Tony snapped awake at the sound of the door closing, looking around for signs of anything gone wrong. The scattered ghost bees reassure Tony that nothing is happening so he relaxed, finally noticing the tray on the kitchen counter. There was something next to it that caught his eye, making it over in a couple strides, Tony picked up the piece of paper and read the delicate cursive handwriting.

I haven't had the chance to properly thank you for saving me, I can't express how much it means to me. The clothes you provided fit well, I'm surprised how well they match my old outfit. Perhaps you could show me how to operate the small device in the morning once you've rested. ---Peter

The note brought a smile to Tony's face, though dry and void of warmth, it was still appreciation and Tony loved it. Maybe this time would be different than the last ones, Tony didn't want to get his hopes up so soon, but this note gave him a good feeling. For the next few hours, Peter slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep and Tony napped on the couch, both resting after a very exciting 24 hours.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel saint peter #hazbin hotel peter #hazbin saint peter #hazbin peter #hazbin hotel x oc #saint peter x oc #vox x oc but only if you squint #fanfic #my boy Tony's tag

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dontspillthefrijoles43 · 1 year

Text

Lost Hero X- Leo

Ice cold welcomes Literally

Warnings: slight cursing, teenagers being teenagers, jealousy, Zethes flirting, khione ⚠️

Word count: 3442

Summary: Santa Hotel lookin bougie as hell. Some weird ice dudes. And fine looking ice princess? Oh shit they wanna kill me never mind

Likes ❤️, Reblogs🔁, and comments 💬 very much appreciated! Images above not mine-- found on pinterest

<<Prev Next>>

—

It seemed sleep only lasted for seconds, but when Breisa shook Leo awake, the daylight was fading.

“Hey dormilón, we’re here,” she said.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Below them, a city sat on a cliff overlooking a river.

The plains around it were dusted with snow, but the city itself glowed warmly in the winter sunset.

Buildings crowded together inside high walls like a medieval town, way older than any place Leo had seen before.

In the center was an actual castle—at least Leo assumed it was a castle—with massive red brick walls and a square tower with a peaked, green gabled roof.

“Dígame—that’s Quebec and not Santa’s workshop? Leo said.

“Something you’d recognized?” Breisa snickered.

Leo shot her a ‘girl please’ look. (Although it was oddly nice to hear her laugh again).

“Yeah, Quebec City,” Piper confirmed before they could argue. “One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded around sixteen hundred or so?”

Breisa whistled in interest, “Eso es viejo.”

Leo raised an eyebrow at Piper. “Your dad do a movie about that too?”

Piper made a face at him, which Leo was used to, but it didn’t quite work with her new glamorous makeup. “I read sometimes, okay? Just because Aphrodite claimed me, doesn’t mean I have to be an airhead.”

“Feisty!” Leo said. “So you know so much, what’s that castle?”

“A hotel, I think.”

Leo laughed. “No way.”

But as they got closer, Leo saw she was right.

The grand entrance was bustling with doormen, valets, and porters taking bags. Sleek black luxury cars idled in the drive. People in elegant suits and winter cloaks hurried to get out of the cold.

“A lot of corporate looking people..” Breisa noticed.

“The North Wind stayin' in a bougie hotel?” Leo added. “That can’t be—”

“Heads up, guys,” Jason interrupted. “We got company!”

Leo looked below and saw what Jason meant. Rising from the top of the tower were two winged figures—angry angels, with nasty-looking swords.

Festus didn’t like the angel guys. He swooped to a halt in midair, wings beating and talons bared, and made a rumbling sound in his throat that Leo recognized.

He was getting ready to blow fire.

“Why is the dragon vibrating? Is he gonna explode?” Breisa questioned, breaking a sweat.

“He’s fine. Steady, boy.” Leo muttered. Something told him the angels would not take kindly to getting torched.

“I don’t like this,” Breisa said, fiddled with a ring on her finger. “They look like storm spirits.”

At first Leo thought she was right, but as the angels got closer, he could see they were much more solid than venti.

They looked like regular teenagers except for their icy white hair and feathery purple wings. Their bronze swords were jagged, like icicles. Their faces looked similar enough that they might have been brothers, but they definitely weren’t twins.

One was the size of an ox, with a bright red hockey jersey, baggy sweatpants, and black leather cleats. The guy clearly had been in too many fights, because both his eyes were black, and when he bared his teeth, several of them were missing.

The other guy looked like he’d just stepped off one of Leo’s mom’s 1980s rock album covers—His ice-white hair was long and feathered into a mullet. He wore pointy-toed leather shoes, designer pants that were way too tight, and a god awful silk shirt with the top three buttons open.

“This guy looks like a bad knock off of Hall & Oates.” Breisa murmured amused and in disbelief.

“Que verdad.” Leo whispered back, surprising himself that he agreed with her.

The angels pulled up in front of Festus and hovered there, swords at the ready.

The hockey ox grunted. “No clearance.”

“’Scuse me?” Leo said without thinking.

And Breisa decked his shoulder.

“Sorry for our friend.” She apologized. “What do you mean ‘No clearance’ ?”

“You have no flight plan on file,” Explained the groovy love god.

Leo cringed at his terrible European accent. (Was he trying to sound French?)

“This is restricted airspace.” He continued

“Destroy them?” The ox showed off his gap-toothed grin.

The dragon began to hiss steam, ready to defend them.

Jason summoned his golden sword.

Breisa’s palms started glowing.

Before anyone could do anything Leo cried, “Hold on! Let’s have some manners here, guys. Can I at least find out who has the honor of destroying me?”

“I am Cal!” the ox grunted.

He looked very proud of himself, like he’d taken a long time to memorize that sentence.

“That’s short for Calais,” The love god said. “Sadly, my brother cannot say words with more than two syllables—”

“Pizza! Hockey! Destroy!” Cal offered.

“—which includes his own name,” The love god finished.

“I am Cal,” Cal repeated. “And this is Zethes! My brother!”

“Wow,” Leo said—faster than his brain or Breisa can tell him to shut up— “That was almost three sentences, man! Way to go.”

“¿Quieres matarnos?” Breisa scolded Leo, looking at Cal nervously.

But Cal grunted, obviously pleased with himself.

“Stupid buffoon,” his brother grumbled. “They make fun of you. But no matter. I am Zethes, which is short for Zethes. And the lady there—”

He winked at Piper, but the wink was more like a facial seizure. “She can call me anything she likes. Perhaps she would like to have dinner with a famous demigod before we must destroy you?”

Piper made a sound like gagging on a cough drop. “That’s … a truly horrifying offer.”

“It is no problem.” Zethes wiggled his eyebrows. “It is your unappealing friend you worry about, Calais shall have her—“

“OYE!” Breisa protested, “I’m not a piece of meat that you can offer up!”

“Why would she wanna be with a bozo without teeth?” Leo remarked, fuming over his proposition. (Again why was he acting so weird).

“We are a very romantic people, we Boreads.” Zethes continued.

“Boreads?” Jason cut in. “Do you mean, like, the sons of Boreas?”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of us!” Zethes looked pleased. “We are our father’s gatekeepers. So you understand, we cannot have unauthorized people flying in his airspace on creaky dragons, scaring the silly mortal peoples.”

He pointed below, and Leo saw that the mortals were starting to take notice. Several were pointing up—not with alarm, yet—more with confusion and annoyance.

“I thought you could control that magic fog thing?” Leo turned to Breisa.

She pursed her lips, one of her nervous habits.

“It’s called mist. I had it under control…for the most part.” Breisa defended herself, “I’d figure no one would notice if it was a helicopter…or something. Magic ain’t that easy.”

“Sadly this why, unless this is an emergency landing,” Zethes said, brushing his hair out of his acne-covered face, “We will have to destroy you painfully.”

“Destroy!” Cal agreed.

“Why is he so happy about this?” Breisa muttered shakily.

“Wait!” Piper said. “This is an emergency landing.”

“Awww!” Cal looked so disappointed, Leo almost felt sorry for him.

Zethes studied Piper, which of course he’d already been doing.

“How does the pretty girl decide this is an emergency, then?”

“We have to see Boreas. It’s totally urgent! Please?” She forced a smile, which must’ve been killing her; but she still had that blessing of Aphrodite thing going on, and she looked great.

Something about her voice, too—Leo found himself believing every word. Jason was nodding, looking absolutely convinced.

Even Breisa spoke in clarification, “Very important for us to see Boreas.”

Zethes picked at his silk shirt, probably making sure it was still open wide enough. “Well … I hate to disappoint a lovely lady, but you see, my sister, she would have an avalanche if we allowed you—”

“And our dragon is malfunctioning!” Piper added. “It could crash any minute!”

Festus shuddered helpfully, then turned his head and spilled gunk out of his ear, splattering a black Mercedes in the parking lot below.

“No destroy?” Cal whimpered, it almost made Leo feel sorry for him.

Zethes pondered the problem. Then he gave Piper another spasmodic wink. “Well, you are pretty. I mean, you’re right. A malfunctioning dragon—this could be an emergency.”

“Destroy them later?” Cal offered, which was probably as close to friendly as he ever got.

“It will take some explaining,” Zethes decided. “Father has not been kind to visitors lately. But, yes. Come, faulty dragon people. Follow us.”

The Boreads sheathed their swords and pulled smaller weapons from their belts—or at least Leo thought they were weapons.

Then the Boreads switched them on, and Leo realized they were flashlights with orange cones, like the ones traffic controller guys use on a runway.

Cal and Zethes turned and swooped toward the hotel’s tower.

Leo turned. “I love these guys. Follow them?”

Jason, Breisa, and Piper didn’t look eager.

“I guess,” Jason decided. “We’re here now. But I wonder why Boreas hasn’t been kind to visitors.”

“Hopefully we won’t find out why.” Breisa answered back.

“Pfft, he just hasn’t met us.” Leo whistled. “Festus, after those flashlights!”

—

As they got closer, Leo could feel Breisa tense behind him. She must’ve been worried they would crash.

The Boreads made right for the green gable peak and didn’t slow down.

Then a section of the slanted roof slid open, revealing an entrance easily wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles like jagged teeth.

“This cannot be good,” Jason muttered, but Leo spurred the dragon downward, earning a little squeak from Breisa. They swooped in after the Boreads.

They landed in what must have been the penthouse suite; but the place had been hit by a blizzard.

The entry hall had vaulted ceilings forty feet high, huge draped windows, and lush oriental carpets.

A staircase at the back of the room led up to another equally massive hall, and more corridors branched off to the left and right.

But the ice made the room’s beauty into an eerie and isolated room frozen in time.

When they all slid off the dragon, Leo could hear the carpet crunched under their feet.

A fine layer of frost covered the furniture.

The curtains stood frozen solid, and the ice-coated windows let in weird light from the sunset. It almost looked like glass-stained windows at a Church.

Even the ceiling was furry with icicles. As for the stairs—

“If someone climbed those, they’d break their neck.” Piper had read his mind.

“Guys,” Leo said, “Fix the thermostat in here, and I would totally move in.”

“Not me.” Breisa looked uneasily at the staircase. “Something feels wrong. Something up there …”

“You feel it too?” Jason stared with her at the staircase.

“I don’t know how…but I feel bad energy coming from there.” She gripped the strap to her satchel.

“Maybe it’s something you ate?” Leo suggested with a shrugged.

“No stupid—" She started.

But Festus interrupted by shuddering and snorting flames. Frost started to form on his scales.

“No, no, no.” Zethes marched over, funny looking shoes pointed up. “The dragon must be deactivated. We can’t have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair.”

(Breisa snorted to herself. Leo figured it must’ve been about Zethes interesting hair choice.)

Festus growled and spun his drill-bit teeth.

“’S’okay, boy.” Leo turned to Zethes. “The dragon’s a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. But I’ve got a better solution.”

“Destroy?” Cal suggested.

“Why is it always destroy with you?” Breisa grumbled.

Leo nodded along with her, “Yea, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait.”

“Leo,” Piper said nervously, “what are you—”

“Watch and learn, beauty queen. When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But others … Ah, here we go.”

Leo hooked his fingers behind the dragon’s left foreleg. He pulled a switch, and the dragon shuddered from head to toe.

Everyone backed away as Festus folded like origami.

His bronze plating stacked together. His neck and tail contracted into his body. His wings collapsed and his trunk compacted until he was a rectangular metal wedge the size of a suitcase.

“Se encogió!” Breisa gasped in surprise.

“On the contrary, Cariño.” Leo tried to lift it, but the thing weighed about six billion pounds. “Um … yeah. Hold on. I think—aha.”

He pushed another button. A handle flipped up on the top, and wheels clicked out on the bottom.

“Ta-da!” he announced. “The world’s heaviest carry-on bag!”

“Ain’t no way!” Breisa exclaimed, rubbing her eyes to see if she was hallucinating.

“That’s impossible,” Jason said. “Something that big couldn’t—”

“Stop!” Zethes ordered. He and Cal both drew their swords and glared at Leo.

Leo raised his hands. “Okay … what’d I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you that much, I don’t have to take the dragon as carry-on—”

“Who are you?” Zethes shoved the point of his sword against Leo’s chest.

“Back the fuck off!”

Breisa came forward as she clashed his sword with an ax. Leo had no idea where she got it from, but it was somewhat less threatening with part of its handle gone. Still he’s see her fight, so maybe the threat level has raised again.

“I’ve been dying to use this all day. Don’t give me a reason.” She tried intimating, the ax in her hands shook.

“This friend of yours can be a threat to us. You defend him, so are you.” Zethes warned, but Breisa didn’t back down. He turned back to Leo, “What are you, a child of the south wind—spying on us?”

“What? No!” Leo said. “Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone!”

Cal growled. He put his face up to Leo’s, and he definitely wasn’t any prettier at point-blank, with his bruised eyes and bashed-in mouth.

Beside him Breisa’s other hand glowed blood red, mist pooled around her feet. “I told you guys to back off.”

“Smell fire,” Cal said, backing away from Leo. “Fire is bad.”

“Oh.” Leo’s heart raced. “Yeah, well … my clothes are kind of singed, and I’ve been working with oil, and—”

“No!” Zethes pushed at Breisa’s ax, she faltered but she kept her guard up. “We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire … on you.”

If it hadn’t been like three degrees in the penthouse, Leo would’ve started sweating.

“Hey … look … I don’t know—” He glanced at his friends desperately. “Guys, a little help?”

Jason already had his gold coin in his hand. He stepped forward, his eyes on Zethes. “Look, there’s been a mistake. Leo isn’t a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you’re not a fire guy.”

“Um …”

“Zethes?” Piper tried her dazzling smile again, though she looked way too nervous and too cold to pull it off. “We’re all friends here. Put down your swords and let’s talk.”

The girl is pretty,” Zethes admitted, “and of course she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness; but sadly, I cannot romance her at this time.”

He pushed his sword forward and knocked Breisa off balance.

Breisa wheeze at the force and attempted to get back up— but Cal rushed at her and a sword pressed on her neck. She stayed on the ground and glared.

Then Zethes poked his sword point into Leo’s chest and frost spread across his shirt, turning his skin numb.

Leo wished he could reactivate Festus. He needed some backup. But it would’ve taken several minutes, even if he could reach the button, with two purple-winged crazy guys in his path.

“Destroy him now?” Cal asked his brother.

Zethes nodded. “Sadly, I think—”

“No,” Jason insisted. He sounded calm enough, but Leo figured he was about two seconds away from flipping that coin and going into full gladiator mode.

“Leo’s just a son of Hephaestus. He’s no threat. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite. Breisa a daughter of Hecate. I’m the son of Zeus. We’re on peaceful …” Jason’s voice faltered, because both Boreads had suddenly turned on him.

“What did you say?” Zethes demanded. “You are the son of Zeus?”

“Um … yeah,” Jason said. “That’s a good thing, right? My name is Jason.”

Cal looked so surprised, he almost dropped his sword. “Can’t be Jason,” he said. “Doesn’t look the same.”

Zethes stepped forward and squinted at Jason’s face. “No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylish. Not as much as me—but stylish. Besides, our Jason died millennia ago.”

“Wait,” Jason said. “Your Jason … you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?”

“Of course,” Zethes said. “We were his crewmates aboard his ship, the Argo, in the old times, when we were mortal demigods. Then we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look this good for all time, and my silly brother could enjoy pizza and hockey.”

“Hockey!” Cal agreed.

“But Jason—our Jason—he died a mortal death,” Zethes said. “You can’t be him.”

“I’m not,” Jason agreed.

“So, destroy?” Cal asked. Clearly the conversation was giving his two brain cells a serious workout.

“No,” Zethes said regretfully. “If he is a son of Zeus, he could be the one we’ve been watching for.”

“Watching for?” Breisa asked as she stood. “You mean like in a good way, you’ll shower him with fabulous prizes? Or watching like in a bad way —he’s in trouble?”

A girl’s voice said, “That depends on my father’s will.”

Leo looked up the staircase. His heart nearly stopped. At the top stood a girl in a white silk dress.

Her skin was unnaturally pale, the color of snow, but her hair was a lush mane of black (almost like Breisa’s hair but flat instead of curled) , and her eyes were cold coffee brown, a shade off from Breisa’s own warm Carmel brown eyes.

She focused on them with no expression, no smile, no friendliness. But it didn’t matter. Leo was entranced. She was the most dazzling girl he’d ever seen.

Leo could hear Breisa scoff beside him. She looked really pissed off.

Then the girl looked at Jason and Piper, and seemed to understand the situation immediately.

“Father will want to see the one called Jason,” the girl said.

“Then it is him?” Zethes asked excitedly.

“We’ll see,” the girl said. “Zethes, bring our guests.”

Leo grabbed the handle of his bronze dragon suitcase. He wasn’t sure how he’d lug it up the stairs, but he had to get next to that girl and ask her some important questions—like her e-mail address and phone number.

Before he could take a step, she froze him with a look. Not literally froze, but she might as well have.

“Not you, Leo Valdez,” she said and turned, “Nor you Breisa Alessandro.”

In the back of his mind, Leo wondered how she knew their names; but mostly he was just concentrating on how crushed he felt.

“Why not?” He probably sounded like a whiny kindergartner, but he couldn’t help it.

“You two cannot be in the presence of my father,” the girl said. “Fire and ice—it would not be wise. And you have yourself a spawn of Hecate. One with untrained magic. Who knows what disasters that can cause.”

“Te mostraré un desastre, perra.” Breisa raised her ax.

“We’re going together,” Jason interrupted, putting his hand on Breisa’s shoulder though mostly to stop her from attacking and Leo’s shoulder. “or not at all.”

The girl tilted her head, like she wasn’t used to people refusing her orders. “They will not be harmed, Jason Grace, unless you make trouble. Calais, keep them her. Guard them, but do not kill them.”

Cal pouted. “Just a little?”

“No,” the girl insisted. “Take care of his interesting suitcase. And make sure the girl stays in line with her magic, until Father passes judgment.”

Jason and Piper looked at Leo and Breisa, their expressions asking him a silent question: How do you want to play this?

Leo felt a surge of gratitude. They were ready to fight for him. They wouldn’t leave him alone.

Breisa had even defended him. Despite insulting him.

Part of him wanted to go for it, bust out his new tool belt and see what he could do, maybe even summon a fireball or two and warm this place up. Maybe even Breisa could wipe the floor with her cool creepy magic or whatever.

But the Boread guys scared him. And that gorgeous girl scared him more, even if he still wanted her number.

“It’s fine, guys,” he said. “No sense causing trouble if we don’t have to. You go ahead.”

“Listen to your friend,” the pale girl said. “Leo Valdez and Breisa Alessandro will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you, son of Zeus. Now come, King Boreas is waiting.”

With that they left up to the staircase, leaving Breisa and Leo all alone in awkward silence, while being guarded by a hockey ox.

—

Translation

Dormilón - Sleepyhead

Digame- Tell me

Eso es viejo - That’s old

Que verdad - I know right

¿Quieres matarnos? - Do you want to kill us

Se encogió - He shrunk

Cariño - Sweetheart

Te mostraré un desastre, perra - I’ll show you a disaster bitch

(A/N: This chapter was pretty easy to write but I felt like I should have changed it up more. Or at least fit my canon version of Leo into it. But hope you all like :)! More coming soon)

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