#angelo drabbles

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Mobster

Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

Yandere! Mobster who's a made man, who drives a nice car even after the stock market crash forced most people to sell theirs.

Yandere! Mobster who wears a tailored suit and fedora, his black hair swept back. Who everyone in the neighbourhood says is a good guy, a decent man, even if he does work for the don.

Yandere! Mobster who pulls up next to you when you're walking home from work. It's late and clouds are scudding across the moon.

Yandere! Mobster who leans out his window and offers to drive you home. Who says these streets ain't safe for a pretty girl like you.

Yandere! Mobster who's known you since you were children. Two kids from immigrant families, playing together in the tiny bits of open space your apartments could offer.

Yandere! Mobster who keeps looking at you and marvelling at how grown up you both are. Where did that scruffy little girl go? And when did you get so pretty?

Yandere! Mobster who spends the whole drive chatting about old times. Who makes you laugh at his stories about running from the landlady and stashing his school books behind the canteen.

Yandere! Mobster who leans over you and pulls the door closed when you move to get out. Who looks you dead in the eye when he asks if you're having trouble with your rent.

The mob is a big part of the community afterall, and he knows just about everything.

You drop your eyes, embarrassed. Your brothers have their own families to care for, you say. Things are hard but if you pick up a few more shifts at the factory, you might manage it.

Yandere! Mobster who sighs and digs in his suit pocket. Who pulls out a stack of cash and counts it right in front you.

Yandere! Mobster who offers you enough for two months of rent. A small fortune to someone from your part of town.

You shake your head, horrified. You can't afford the interest, you tell him.

Yandere! Mobster who scoffs and asks if you really think he's offering a loan when you've known each other for years? It's a gift, to keep your mama out of the cold.

Yandere! Mobster who smiles at the hesitant way you accept the money. You're too proud to ever ask for help and he knows it. Just like when you were kids.

Yandere! Mobster who gets out and opens the car door for you like a gentleman, even if he knows the whole apartment building will talk about it.

Yandere! Mobster who grins that charming, good guy smile even though he has a gun holstered under his jacket and a shovel in the trunk. Who says he'll consider things even if you cook him dinner some time.

Yandere! Mobster who visits your ma while you're at work. Who tells her he's interested in you and wants her blessing. And your ma is all too happy to give it. He's such a good boy, she says, and she knows he's always had a soft spot for you.

Yandere! Mobster who insists on driving you home after work everyday. Even when you blush and complain that he's going out of his way.

Yandere! Mobster who gratefully accepts the gifts you offer him. Fresh baked bread, jars of your mama's famous marinara sauce, homecooked meals... Who eats so much better when you take care of him.

Yandere! Mobster who eventually runs out of luck and straight into trouble. What was supposed to be a routine whiskey delivery turns out to be a sting operation.

Yandere! Mobster who sees his partner get a hole blasted right through him and almost die. Who fires at the cops until his tommy gun is red hot and smoking. Who ends up with so much blood on his hands he ain't sure it will ever wash off.

Yandere! Mobster who finds himself at your door afterwards, his coat drenched by the rain.

Yandere! Mobster who doesn't resist when you pull him inside and strip away his jacket and shirt. There's blood on your hands after you hang up his coat, and you pretend not to notice it.

Yandere! Mobster who can see your curiosity fighting against your sense. In the end, you don't ask him a single question about it.

Yandere! Mobster who sinks gratefully into the bath you draw for him. And who falls asleep the second his head hits your pillow.

Yandere! Mobster who's gone by morning. His bloodstained coat gone with him.

Yandere! Mobster who asks around about you and finds out you've got a whole score of fellas vying for your hand.

Yandere! Mobster who let's it be known that he's interested in you and watches with satisfaction as all your potential suitors drop away.

Except for one. He just spits and says you're a grown woman and can choose your own man.

Yandere! Mobster and his buddies pick the guy up after a late shift. Tie his hands behind his back and gag him before they toss him in the trunk.

Yandere! Mobster who beats the shit out of him. Who breaks his nose with a knuckle duster and his ribs with a crowbar. Who grabs his hair with bloody fingers and hisses that you're off limits.

Yandere! Mobster whose buddies lounge against the warehouse wall and smoke, never bothering to question what a simple dock worker did to deserve such a brutal beating.

Yandere! Mobster who sniffs your hair when you hug him. He's like a dog - always making sure other men haven't left their scent on you.

Yandere! Mobster who let's his hands wander when he takes you out dancing. Who kisses you goodnight and let's his lips brush your neck before he pulls away.

Yandere! Mobster who goes home and jerks off to you, his teeth bared and head bent forward. Who snarls at you to take it, take it like a good girl.

Yandere! Mobster who tells his don about you - how pretty you are, how clever, how discreet. The man leans back in his chair and pulls on his cigar.

She'll never make a liar of you. You should marry her just for that.

Yandere! Mobster who shows up at your door a week later, an engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket.

Be my girl. And I promise I'll take care of you.

You think about the night he came to you covered in blood and not speaking a word. You think about your friend from the docks and the way he dissappeared. You think about the way people look away when you're with him in public.

You say yes, as though you have a choice.

[mathitas]

Hades won’t hear any prayer and any word won’t convince him otherwise: so are his children.

No matter what you tell them, they won’t forgive you.

And that’s why Uncle Rick is genius.

[thaliagrayce]

Jason was headed to the Big House when he caught sight of Nico leading a trio of terrified-looking twelve-year-olds to where Mrs O’Leary lay napping in the strawberry fields. It had been Nico’s idea to introduce some of the younger campers to monsters in what passed as a safe environment. He’d argued that Mrs O’Leary could be a great tool for teaching, and for making the kids less likely to panic when they first met monsters in the wild.

Nico looked more and more relaxed as the group got closer to Mrs O’Leary. She lifted her head to give a sniff, and Nico went straight to her and leaned on her sun-warmed flank. Jason always liked watching Nico interact with her. He looked so much more at ease around the hellhound than he did around most campers.

“Spending a lot of time with him recently, huh?

Jason did not jump. It took effort. Leo had materialized on his left, and he was looking at Jason as if he expected a response.

“Yeah,” Jason said once his heartbeat had returned to normal. “Nico’s really cool, once he gets comfortable around you.”

“Hm.” Leo squinted into the fall sunshine to where an Ares kids had tentatively held her hand up for Mrs O’Leary to smell. It was going well until Mrs O’Leary sneezed, and the kid flinched hard enough to fall on her butt.

Jason could almost hear Nico’s laughter from here, if he focused hard enough. He felt himself smiling in response.

“Should I be, like, nervous?”

Blinking, Jason turned back to Leo. “What?”

“Di Angelo isn’t trying to replace me or anything, right?”

Jason snorted. “Of course not.”

“You sure? He looks like a man who’s gunning for the Jason Grace Best Friend title belt,” Leo joked. Jason rolled his eyes at him. Nico looked like a boy who needed to lean on his SUV-sized dog to stay upright when he laughed.

“Aw, come on. You know it’s not the same.”

“How?!” Leo’s tone was light, so he was probably teasing, but Jason still had a hard time differentiating sometimes. Leo was good at hiding his real hurt behind jokes, but he also told a lot of jokes with no substance to them. Whatever raised a reaction. Jason wasn’t sure how serious he should treat this line of questioning.

“I don’t know, it just isn’t. We mess around a lot, right? I’m usually nicer to Nico—”

“So what I’m hearing is it’s different because you treat him better! I’m too late!” Leo cried out, finally pulling free a wire from the walkie talkie he’d been messing with. He flashed a grin at Jason, showing off the disemboweled gadget.

Teasing, then. Jason felt himself relax.

“You wouldn’t want me to be nicer and you know it. Besides, we both know you can take it.”

“And Nico can’t?” Leo was already turning his attention back to the walkie talkie.

“It’s not that, it’s more like…” In the field, Nico reached out his hand to the kid who’d stayed in the back of the group up until now. Even from this far away, the kid looked scared. Nico supported them as they walked up to Mrs O’Leary, though. He held their hand through something that had obviously scared them. It was such a Nico gesture, Jason couldn’t help but smiling.

“He could take it, sure, but he shouldn’t have to. He deserves to be treated gently.”

There was silence for a while, and Jason only really became aware of it when Leo slowly leaned forward into his field of vision. His eyebrows had made a migration toward his hairline, and they didn’t look like they were dropping anytime soon. Jason thought back over what he’d said and blushed. When had he started looking at Nico again, anyway? He turned away from the strawberry field to look at Leo full on.

“Dude,” Leo said.

“Shut up.”

“I was joking before, but like, now I’m not sure. Do I legit have to be worried you like him better?”

“I don’t like him better, I just like him different. It’s totally normal.”

It was true, too. Even more than he’d even realized when he said it. Friendship with Nico didn’t feel like any other friendship he’d ever had. It was… quiet. Intense. It felt charged, but relaxing at the same time. It was contradictory and almost addicting, Jason couldn’t really describe it. He caught himself before his eyes drifted back to the strawberry fields and made himself focus on Leo, who looked dubious to the point of being borderline offensive.

“Different, or—”

“Different,” Jason insisted. “Just like I like you and Piper different. Not better or worse, just… Different.”

Come to think about it, though…

“Sure fuckin' hope you like me and Piper different,” Leo grumbled. “You’re my bro, but I don’t want you pulling your Loverboy moves on me. I mean…” Leo kept going, but Jason was too busy spiraling to pay attention.

He’d said he liked Leo and Piper different, but did he? The way he felt about Leo was a lot closer to the way he felt about Piper than it was to what he felt for Nico, if he stopped to think about. Remarkably similar, really. His palms started to sweat.

Oh gods, he thought. Do I have a crush on Leo?

[gardenof--eden]

What do you Will and Nico's love languages are?

Teehee I love this question so much.

Nico, my poor darling dear child. His main love language is physical touch. WHICH IS EXACTLY WHY HE DOESNT LET PEOPLE TOUCH HIM/GET CLOSE TO HIM!!! (He’s so me) And it’s not like big gestures and hugs and kisses or whatever. Casual touch, an arm over the shoulder while walking, knees touching while sitting and talk, leaning against each other- the really small touches that are so casual, the other person doesn’t see them as anything big. It’s mind blowing to Nico that someone could do casual be like that around him. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So of course he refuses to even let people close to him, because he doesn’t want to mistakenly feel appreciated. 1. No one actually values him like that, so he might as well not let himself get hopeful and, 2. he doesn’t deserve these people’s love, he’s not worthy of it (my poor confused kiddo). Nico is also a very big acts of service person. He is The Helper (as seen in: everything he’s ever done). That’s how he shows his love to others. Make sure shit gets done, take charge and lead a situation if someone can’t, literally always, ALWAYS be there to help.

Will likes words of affirmation. People telling him he’s loved and valued? Telling him that all his hard work actually paid off? He could cry. Will does NOT get enough recognition for everything that he does, so when someone takes a moment to praise him and thank him, it’s means so so much. As far as giving love, I’d say probably physical touch? Will is generally such a lovey person to his friends and family, it’s almost like everything he does for them is done with love. But what seems to be more noticeable is the physical touch. Ruffling his siblings’ hair, giving the kids piggyback rides, holding hands, sitting close- it’s like he does it without even realizing.

[songsofreason]

Here he is. The man that’s dared to cross him enough times to make Nelo Angelo have to really go all-out. Dante saunters into the room, his expression expectant, already sizing up Nelo Angelo for their third fight. ”A man of guts and honor.” He pauses, Force Edge pressed to his shoulder. “I like that. But it’s a shame you serve Mundus.”

Shame? There is no shame in duty. Nelo Angelo merely raises his claymore to point Dante’s way, intent of will to fight. The other man’s arrogance drives him mad, the laid-back composure irritating, acting as if he’s already won because he managed to drive Nelo off to recalculate and lick his wounds in their prior two fights. But he will stop the Sparda boy here no matter the cost. Dante grins. Nelo Angelo follows him with the point of his blade. At once he realizes he’s furious.

The sight of Dante’s face is so irritable to the devil, it stirs something within Nelo’s soul–a man who has been made to desire nothing but victory cannot say he feels anything else, but this is different from his usual impassive victories he’s claimed in the past decade he has spent serving Mundus. This is a need to win. This is stirring a part of his heart somewhere deep inside–a part of him that tells him if he does not win, he might as well go slit his throat. Nelo Angelo has never had a ‘need’ before. Nelo Angelo hates Dante.

With a scream so loud it would rip up his throat were he not blessed by Mundus, Nelo Angelo throws his head back, arms splayed wide to access everything he can, consumed by the need to kill Dante and to FINALLY, FINALLY, show him up. Parts of his armor splinter and shackle off, thrown by some blue energy that pulls at his flesh like a rippling magnet–he feels heavy and bogged down, like he can’t move like how he wants to. His armor suddenly becomes a prison; he’s always hated being slow. The helmet, too, in its ridiculous lumps and unflattering horns, makes it harder for him to avoid moving his head to dodge attacks going for his skull or throat. It will have to go too, in the name of defeating Dante. he blue shocks of energy shudders up his shoulders and destroy the helmet into pieces, revealing Nelo Angelo’s face to the world.

His hair, he realizes, is long and in his face. The feeling of his hair curling down around his neck and at his shoulders is distracting too. Nelo remembers hating having his hair in his face. It makes it hard for him to see and more importantly–something else. It’s gone. It doesn’t matter. I have to kill Dante. Then I’ll…that doesn’t matter either. Cracks of black blood vessels litter his skull, eyes shining an appropriately demonic red beneath the curtain of his bangs.

Speaking of Dante, the man only seems satisfied to have a face to put to his enemy, twirling one of his guns around on the hand not gripping the Force Edge’s handle. “You done with the light show? I want to get a move on, I’ve got a Demon King to kill.”

Nelo thrusts his claymore to point Dante’s way, turns it perpendicular with the ground, and with a thrashing type of yell, barrels for him, blue swords making hissing noises as they careen for the devil hunter’s torso. It’s annoying that he can hear Dante literally click his tongue in disappointment as he jumps, double jumps, twists and turns through the air, twin guns rattling off their song in response, Nelo’s summoned swords sounding like darts as they land one after the other in empty space. He screams in frustration as he drives his forward foot into the ground and turns, claymore swinging up through the air to catch Dante’s shoulder.

Dante lands, turns, damaged arm dropped as it heals, other hand still aimed with the white gun firing away, then he whips out the other. “Not bad, guy.” Nelo Angelo doesn’t get a chance to blink before Dante’s suddenly upon him, Force Edge cutting bits of his armor away, whittling open more and more weak spots, forcing the Angelo to take tiny steps backwards and catch what he can of Dante’s swordsmanship with his arms so he can’t land any hits on his torso. After his efforts to access more power earlier, Nelo Angelo’s armor is weaker–-Nelo can feel that trade-off beginning to weigh heavier on the scales.

He catches Force Edge in a hand with just enough force it stops Dante in his tracks, and then he throws him furiously backwards into a wall. Dante goes sailing. A summoned sword manifests and hurtles after him, pinning Dante’s coat tail to the wall. The Sparda remains unfazed and merely lunges back for Nelo Angelo, leather tearing behind him. Claymore meets the Force Edge, both figures’ hands coming up to try and add more pressure into their swings. Dante is gritting his teeth and groaning. Nelo Angelo is…Nelo Angelo and therefore looks like nothing. At once his mind leaves the battle for just a moment, aware only of how annoyed he is that his hair is so long.

In his momentary lapse of consciousness, Ebony blasts a hole through a chip in the side of his armor, making his breastplate crack and chunks of it fall off, exposing more of the black suit Nelo Angelo wears underneath his armor and making him easier to actually hurt. Forced to retreat, the demon practically dances backwards, claymore swinging up at Dante’s jaw and catching some stray hairs as it slices. “Hey!” Dante shouts, head jerking back, blood spilling from the nick in his neck that Nelo managed to land as well, “I like my haircut, thank you very much!” He reaches up to touch at the already healed-wound, then rubs his red-stained fingers and thumb together.

Shut up shut up shut UP!! Nelo Angelo can’t speak. So he shouts. He rushes for Dante immediately with another set of swings to convey his anger, anger he’s never felt before, anger he can’t identify with anger, raging cuts of steel slicing from his hands, ignoring the blasts of gunfire that tear the armor on his arms away or the bullets that lodge themselves into his skin, more focused on ending the fight as soon as he can. For Mundus. Such is his duty. Dante meets each swing, grinning but not without strain, then air hikes away to make the knight stumble forward into the wall, palm coming up to catch himself, a few more blasted chips of gunfire riddling themselves into exposed flesh that knits itself a moment too late, exhaustion beginning to give way to healing.

If he’s this tired, Dante must be too. Nelo Angelo turns around and extends his arm, hand opening and closing in a wordless taunt: COME ON.

“Oh yeah?” Dante sneers, but takes the bait anyway, he’s always been that easy to incite. Again and again they collide, steel striking sparks and blue swords dancing through the air and bullets ricocheting, the sound loud and cacophonous and ringing and again and again and again they swing, dancing, Dante’s quips losing all meaning and only becoming shapeless movements of his mouth amidst their swordsmanship. Eventually Dante tires enough to have to back out, feet sweeping half-circles and guns raised as he moves to recalibrate, his face now shiny with sweat.

In the newly regained space between them Nelo Angelo readies another barrage of summoned swords, this time from above Dante, intending for them to fall upon him like rain. Dante cartwheels–literally cartwheels–out of the area of effect, shocks of gunfire peppering his move, landing on his feet once again. Only he missteps, a foot landing on a small piece of rock that they’d destroyed earlier in the fight, and stumbles, ankle twisting, arms moving up and exposing his torso as he moves to right his balance. “Shit–,” Dante mutters, trying to keep his voice low as not to give himself away, and Nelo Angelo knows: now is his chance.

The knight drops into a crouch, eyeing that weak spot of Dante’s, hand readying over Yamato’s hilt as he prepares a Judgement Cut to cut into that perfectly exposed bit of torso and–Yamato isn’t there. It had been taken from him. His hand closes on the claymore’s hilt. It won’t move or cut like a katana, and the arc of the broadsword’s swing is much larger and awkward as it sails through air too high it can only be called nothing, Dante flying effortlessly past the last-ditch effort with his Force Edge extended like a sharp point of infinity.

The sword runs clear through Nelo Angelo’s sternum and makes him stagger backwards. His own claymore clatters noisily on the ground. He can practically feel the blade puncturing his aorta. Nelo Angelo is a man of honor, so he doesn’t scream–he merely raises both his hands to grab at the blade and try to push back, blood spewing from his lips and pouring from his damaged palms; he can’t remember when exactly Dante destroyed his gauntlets, the blade edge cutting all the tendons in his fingers.

Nelo Angelo speaks for the first time in a decade. “Dan…te…” The sword wiggles just a bit inside of his chest cavity, tearing all things it can loose with its sharp blade. A cough.

“Sorry,” Dante says, “show’s over, no encore this time,” and he forcibly moves his arm backwards so the sword pulls cleanly back out through Nelo Angelo’s torso and scatters crimson across the room.

“Ah…” Nelo raises both his hands to touch at the gaping wound, blood pouring from it like a waterfall. Coldness overtakes him like a shadow; he doesn’t realize he’s fallen over until his cheek smatters with pain and forces him to draw his awareness to the cold stone under it, something else falling heavily by his face. His amulet. He knows because he knows that shade of red anywhere. It’s brought him such comfort. Two boots stand before him behind the blurring red jewel; Nelo’s eye rolls in its socket up to the far corner to look up at Dante, his killer.

Horror. Whatever the man is seeing, it’s making Dante look more impression-like than man, of something twisted wrong, his eyes as wide as they can go, mouth a small ‘o’, washed out and colorless and too scared to even tremble–it makes Nelo smile openly, his tongue pressing against the slabs of iron-tasting granite, blood smeared all across his mouth, eager to spit in his killer’s face, but he has no energy so he just laughs noiselessly into the cobblestone. He’s always been defiant; even Mundus had to fight tooth and nail to get him to listen at first, he remembers his King saying as much about the early days of his making.

“How did you–,” Dante drops to a knee. Nelo is aware of a hand tugging at–something. The chain around his neck. “get this…–I–,”

“NO!” Panic, a denial, although of what the knight doesn’t know. Nelo tries to twist himself away from the pressure trying to claim his precious amulet for itself, only succeeding in wrenching his shoulder into the ground and cutting up his cheek on the rough surface of the ground, awareness dimming quickly, he cannot feel his fingers or his hands or his arms or anything, Dante is a blurry red mass in his periphery, he is someone trying to take from him yet again, he’s always been so selfish, “No! No one else can–…have this…” Nelo swallows to fit his teeth back together and seizes and spews up more blood and some organic mass goes with it. The ground quickly grows slippery beneath him then nothing at all. He was terrified a moment ago but at once he’s too weak to fight back or do anything, words pouring unbidden as his consciousness dissipates like grains of sand falling through his fingers, “it belongs to…a son of…Sparda–...” and then he is gone, red eyes dimming back into their washed-out blue sans spark of life within them. He didn’t even have the strength to turn his gaze back to his one remaining piece of self: the amulet half lying on the ground between them. Instead his eyes focused on some unknown point ahead.

He doesn’t feel Dante’s trembling fingers as the newly-made Cain slowly reaches for the large stone and he doesn’t feel how he forcibly yanks the pendant free from his neck, chain snapping. He doesn’t feel the shudder which jostles his corpse slightly when both of Dante’s knees meet ground, or he doesn’t feel the two hands reaching for his soulless body. He doesn’t know that Dante doesn’t yell or scream, just like he didn’t last time, that he keeps his grief quiet, shoulders shaking.

[frostyblustar]

Cool! Could you do a GodSwap AU? Something short with Percy son of Hades and Nico son of Poseidon

You say short? You get a drabble on Tumblr ;) Request complete

“You’re a son of Poseidon- And you can’t swim??”

Percy watched Nico approach the water’s edge cautiously, looking as if he would be burned if he tried moving any further. They had just finished sword training. Now, the lake was reflecting the colorful sunset and dark trees.

Nico huffed, turning his gaze away from Percy and towards the rippling water a few steps away. “I used to be afraid of drowning before finding out. I had friends die because of the floods in Venice.”

“I’m sorry-“

He was cut off, “Don’t be. You didn’t know.”

There was an awkward silence between the two after he said that, and Percy didn’t want to cause any more pain for one of his closest friends. Despite what Nico told him, he didn’t feel his heart hold pity for him. In actuality, he couldn’t help but see Nico as strong.

“Well, I know how to swim. Want to learn?”

Nico shook his head. “He didn’t save their lives, I don’t trust him with mine.”

It made a lot of sense, now that Percy was thinking about it deeper. “Do you trust me?” Percy asked hesitantly.

“With my life?” The response was given sarcastically, but then Nico’s expression slowly softened. He sighed and turned his head away, “Always.”

Percy grinned, taking his shirt off and kicking his shoes off. Nico took off his shoes carefully, but left everything else on. He crossed his arms, watching Percy step into the water. “Is this safe for you? You’re a son of Hades.”

“We’re not on the brink of any wars, things are pretty peaceful. I’ll be fine.” Giving him a reassuring smile, Percy continued further into the water. Once it was up to his waist, he offered Nico a hand.

Pale fingers first brushed against his palm before slipping forward to grip the hand, taking steps forward. The water receded around him, like it was as scared of him as he was of it. Percy sighed when Nico reached him and cold air hit his legs. “Nico, you have to let it go.”

Nico tilted his head, “Do I though?”

“To learn to swim? Yeah, you have to.”

After some hesitance, the water suddenly rushed back into the empty circle Nico created. He was almost knocked off his feet, but he was able to keep his balance as Nico’s hand surged from his to hold onto his arm instead.

He then led Nico further into the water, till it was up to their necks. Nico was holding onto him fully now, and Percy could feel him shaking. There was also the way he was breathing, like he was running a mile. “We know you can’t drown, if that’s any reassurance.”

Nico shook his head in a panicked fashion, “Doesn’t matter. This is still cold and...”

“Scary? I’m sure it is. You’re kicking your legs though…” Percy smiled affectionately as he gazed downwards, “Are you mimicking me?”

“Is that bad?”

“No, no it’s perfect. You’re a fast learner.” Nico looked embarrassed after that, and Percy swore he could see him blush. It took some time, but slowly Nico let him go. He started to sink a little before moving his arms as Percy was. “There you go! I knew you could do it.”

[losergender]

11 for the drabble challenge!!

-@mediumgayitalian

11. "dear diary..."

“Dear diary…” He mumbles the words out as he writes them down, having half the mind to ask himself why on Earth he chose to start the damn thing in English. Nico looks up from the page. “Now what?”

“Now you write what you’ve been doing today,” Will replies. 

“Haven’t done anything today.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything special,” the blonde tells him, scooching over closer to him on the hill where they have sat. Nico can feel him looking as he starts writing again: Today Will gave me a dairy becuase apparently it hleps with memory.

“And that’s it?”

“Yeah, just try to do it everyday or at least often.” After speaking, he placed a small kiss on Nico’s temple. “It’s not much, but I read it helps and…”

“It’s really nice of you,” he replied, smiling as he closed the notebook and leant against his boyfriend’s chest. Will had been trying his best to find him a method to get his pre-Lethe memories back. He could tell the boy was as convinced a journal wasn’t gonna work as he was, but that didn’t matter whatsoever. He turned around, kissing his cheek softly. “It’s the thought that counts.” 

[death-and-doctors]

How to Pick a Good Name

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ Accepting Fic Requests ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

rubysun | Parenting 101 | AO3

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Protip #2: If one finds it hard to name a child, seek the help of one’s past. 

It’s been a few hours since the chaos that was their fifth anniversary and as much as Nico loved his father, throwing him and Will two newborn babies certainly did not add to the list of ‘Father of the Year Award.’

After that whole fiasco, Their friends knew to leave them for awhile to sort things out and went home early. Will and Nico immediatley Iris Messaged both their fathers for an explanation. They simply looked exasperated and explained. "We both have been planning it for awhile." Hades starts. "I wanted grandchildren." Apollo chides in and closes the Iris message as if that was enough to explain their intentions.

Still, Nico has never felt as much happiness as holding their children later that night on the floor of the living room with party decorations still strewn everywhere and unwashed dishes littering the kitchen sink. He remembers the look of affection Will had despite joking about how they should’ve prepared for a baby shower instead. ‘I know a great place that sells a gender reveal piñata and Leo would have loved pin the diaper on the baby.’ His husband says beside him.

Nico, still on the floor looking at the bundle of joy in his arms, replied “That would’ve been the best party of the year but Piper would hate the Piñata idea, I fear it’s too sexist for her taste.” Will chuckles at the accuracy.

After awhile, Nico breaks the comfortable silence that settled between the two of them. “What should we name them?” Will looks up to his eyes. Usually, they held a playful twinkle like the sky in a good summer’s day. But right now where the moon is the only thing lighting his face right now. It hold a sense of serenity which is something Will does when he is on doctor mode or has something serious to share.

“To be honest, Neeks.” He starts “I think I do have one in mind, but I need you to be open about it, deal?” 

“Okay, shoot.” Nico replies curiously. 

He can see Will take a deep breath and looks at the baby in Nico’s right. “Clearly, judging from the sex of that baby, it’s a girl and I think that we should name her Bianca.” Will smiles fondly. “I know it has been awhile, but the moment I saw her, I just knew that Bianca was the best name.” 

Nico stared at his husband for the longest time that he could see Will visibly sweat. He could not breathe. Sure it has been years since he got over his sister’s death. But, he can’t imagine the possibility of losing another Bianca in his life. It would be too painful. 

It took him years to build himself back and be genuinely happy because being a family with the person you cherish the most does that to you. Just thinking about getting that snatched away from his grasp is giving him more nightmares since Tartarus happened.

No…Nico Though. He wouldn’t loose this second chance at happiness because he knew from the moment the twins was pushed to them by their fathers, he swears to protect them with every fiber of his being and give them the best that life can offer a Legacy.

Nico shifts his body to face Will fully. “I think Bianca is perfect. “ He starts and after minutes of staring at Will he continues, 

“and since we will be naming her Bianca, I think we should name this baby,” Nico says while adjusting the baby in his left arm, “Lee Michael.”

The look on Will’s face was unreadable but he can see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards and maybe wobble a bit. He then put his arms around Nico.

“Lee Michel and Bianca Solace-di Angelo. I think that’s perfect.” And together with Will, they both continued to admire their newest additions to their small yet perfect family.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: I accidentally deleted the anon request yall- I’m so sorry! But I really hope they see this post and enjoy the oneshot.

Plot: “Basically Paulie is longing for a family and is willing to whatever it takes to make himself fuffiled and happy.” This takes place after Paulie robs the bank. He later that night, goes to your place and he takes you with him. You guys are in the car together and the themes of his loneliness are explored

Warnings: the anon did request Yandere and so as you know…unhealthy themes are discussed.

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

"I-i'm sorry doll...i just really have to do this." Paulie's voice was laced with much sorrow. He anxiously gripped the wheel tighter and uncomfortably shifted in his seat. A part of him felt so guilty for the sin he had committed. Forcefully putting you in the situation was never what he had truly wanted...but he had an itch that needed to be scratched.

You sat still in the backseat of his semi-decent car. Your body leaned over against the cold metal door as your head rested on the foggy window. Your hands were tightly tied together with a short piece of rope but your legs were free. Paulie just didn't want you opening the car door or trying to grab the steering wheel to escape. But honestly, he didn't need to worry about that. Your mind wasn't on escaping but rather the why. Why did he take you like this and what was he planning to do with you?

Paulie had been a good friend of yours for a while. Sure, you knew of his many issues but never for a moment did you think you'd be tied up in the backseat of his car going to who-knows-where. He did confess his feelings for you not too long ago, and though you rejected it, he seemed to take everything pretty well. Things remained relatively normal between you two..well..until tonight.

Paulie was at your door late into the evening. It didn't catch you off guard because sometimes he'd stop at your place for a drink and a little chat before going home. But tonight, he acted unusual. He sat and had a drink like normal but he was visibly nervous. Something seemed to weigh down on his mind. He blew it off when you asked and equated it to a stressful night at work. You noticed that he couldn't keep eye contact with you, his hands were fidgety, and he couldn't seem to calm down even as the night went on. Wanting to be a supportive friend, you told him to wait while you get a stronger handle out of your closet to help him loosen up. Next thing you knew, he came from behind you and dragged you out into his car. There wasn't much you could do to fight back as he was much bigger and stronger than you were. So, unfortunately, here you were..

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look in his rearview mirror to check on you. Your body was shaking a bit and it was obvious that you were trying to make your body as small as possible. Part of it was because you were cold, but the other was due to you being just as scared and anxious as he. The naive part of you thought that maybe if you shrink down, you’d actually disappear.

"Are you cold?" Your eyes looked up and met with his in the mirror. His expression was filled with genuine concern. Paulie truly did care about you, but he was just an impulsive man.

A few moments passed before you could answer

"..mhmm.." your voice was soft and it was clear that you were trying not to cry. Paulie fiddled with the nobs on his dashboard before he spoke again..

"it should warm up in a little bit, hun.." He was looking at you again through the mirror, this time with a gentle smile. He wanted to make you happy. It didn't last long though for the disparity on your face plagued him.

The tension in the car was thick and he knew there was a lot that was on your mind. He knew you had questions you needed to be answered...He knew how much you probably hated him right now.

Paulie tapped his fingers against the worn leather of the wheel. He stared into the long, empty road ahead of him. He honestly didn't even know exactly where he was going but he knew the both you needed to get far out of Lost Haven. He messed up big time. He went against the Don and the wiser of his two friends. Paulie robbed the city’s bank, taking thousands from them at gun point. Stupid, he knows, but it was a risk he had to take. He was tired of that life. He was tired of being unhappy every day, going to brothels just to feel something, he yearned for a normal life. One where he had a wife, kids and a normal 9-5. Being beaten, shot, and yelled at every day since youth does something to you. His childhood wasn't even a time of bliss for him, he's been stuck in a crappy reality forever.

"paulie...?" your fragile voice interrupted his thoughts, earning a surprised 'hmm?' out of him

Your break of silence wasn't expected but always welcomed as when you spoke his name, it was like heaven in his ears. You hesitated before you asked your question, not sure if you truly wanted to know the answer. But—the possibilities of what was going to happen to you was eating you alive.

"Are you….going to kill me..?" Your voice became even more unstable than before as you thought further into the possibility. It made sense. You knew a lot about Paulie, including his affiliation with the Don. You also probably knew things about the family that you probably shouldn't.

"What-?No, I'd never hurt you babydoll..."

Paulie's head hung low and an exhausted sigh was let out. His body slouched back bit in his seat. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have at the moment. His reasonings for doing all of this are selfish and quite pathetic…

"I want a family..." he didn't look up into the mirror this time while speaking to you. He was ashamed of his words and your possible reaction to them.

"...And I want that with you. One just like Tom has…I'm tired of dodging bullets for Sallieri. I'm getting old. I want a nice house and I want that pizza shop I've told you about. We could run it together and everything-"

You shook your head at the idea. You backed further into the corner of your car seat. Your legs propped up on the chair and close to your chest. He was delusional..

Is this what everything was really about? This was the reason he took you? There was no way he was going to try to force this, right???

"Paulie, no…”

“Please just—“

“No..no..Paulie, I already told you that I don't feel this way about you. I thought were were cool as just f—"

"I don’t want to be ‘just’ your friend! I need to be more...I just need this.…”

Meeting you has been the best thing to come out of his cursed life. You're the only thing that's made him actually think about a life past the mob. You're the whole reason he robbed the bank and actually decided to leave. Just to be able to have a life with you. He now has more than enough money to take care of you and provide whatever you need. Yes, he knows that you don't want him romantically but that'll all change once you get adjusted in your new life. You'll see how perfect he is for you..how much he's willing to change. He'll be a good husband if you'll let him.

"Y/N, not even my closest friends and family believe I could ever find happiness. Y'know how that feels? Do you know what it does to a person for everyone to think that lowly of you?" His question was rhetoric.

Of course, you didn't know. In contrast to his, your life was far better. You had a nice job, apartment, and social life. Your singleness was by choice, not a lack of interest. Plus everyone thought very highly of you. You had every chance of finding fulfillment whereas he didn't.

Actually, everyone poked fun at the fact you were so friendly with Paulie. No one could understand how a broad like you could stand within ten feet of him. Sam pissed himself at the mention of Paulie asking you out. Tom gave a hopeless pat on his back.

Your silence was defening...

Paulie pulled over onto the side of the dimly lit highway. He dropped his head down onto the wheel, taking a moment to collect himself. His emotions were starting to raise and he didn't want to take anything out on you. He loved you so much, he just was frustrated about everything.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around to face you. He examined you for a moment, guiltily taking in all of your beauty. Even in the frightened state you were in, you still had no flaws. Your teary eyes made contact with his and the frustration nearly melted away. Your doe-like orbs somehow still twinkled in the low lighting. His obsession with you was unwavering regardless of how badly he felt about everything.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart." Paulie reached out a hand and rested it on your knee. Using one thumb, he rubbed circles in an attempt to comfort you.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win you over. I want us to have a life together so badly. I'm not letting you go anywhere until you love me back and we are finally happily married. I've sacrificed everything to do this...to just be happy." Climbing over the middle compartment, he planted a loving kiss on your forehead and then sat back down.

He buckled up his seatbelt and started up the vehicle again.

One thing was for certain, two things for sure, when it came to Paulie. He was a stubborn and dangerous man who was true to his word. You knew that he was never giving up on this love for you. There was no use in fighting further…he was going to get his way one way or another…

[i-am-too-sick]

Stranded

We can't stay here much longer...

Will must have been thinking the same thing because he stood at that exact moment, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

"What're you—?" Nico started.

"We have to keep moving. I know you're tired, but—"

Will stumbled as he hefted his backpack over his shoulder, the weight of their supplies too much on his weakened body.

"Will, stop it," Nico said placatingly, extending his hand, as if that alone was enough to get Will to sit down again. "You're exhausted—we both are. We can chance just a while longer. You need rest, and I can afford to be off my ankle for a little bit."

Will's face softened. "Is it still bothering you?" He looked guilty at the possibility.

"No," Nico answered much too quickly. "Well, yes, but nothing an hour or two of rest and elevation won't cure."

He wanted to sound reassuring, for both their sakes, but he'd sprained his ankle horribly. Even after Will had tended to him, his ankle was still swollen and purple, throbbing painfully with even the slightest twitch of his foot. They both knew walking would be near impossible at this point.

"Let me help," Will said, coming over to kneel in front of him, extending his palms toward the injury.

"Don't you dare!" Nico jerked his leg back with a sharp hiss.

Will was barely keeping himself upright; Nico had seen that before, but at such a close distance, it was a wonder how Will was even conscious. Healing always took a lot out of him, enough that he usually needed a quick nap or a long swig of an electrolyte drink to keep up with the burden. Nico had tried to persuade him with either of those choices before, but Will had always been stubborn.

Without giving his body a chance to recover, Will's usually tanned skin was now pale, his eyes dark and sunken. A thin veil of sweat covered his face, and his shoulders slumped with fatigue.

Nico reached for him again, carefully easing the backpack from Will's shoulders and lowering it to the ground.

"Are your clothes still wet? You're shaking."

"'M just a little cold," Will mumbled, finally sitting down properly.

Nico tried not to look too relieved, though he smiled nonetheless. "I'll keep you warm."

Will was all too eager to snuggle up in Nico's offered embrace, something he would have done regardless of their current situation. He laid his head on Nico's shoulder, closing his eyes and imagining they were anywhere else.

"I know it hurts. I can take the pain away."

"I know you can," Nico replied, kissing his forehead, leaving the rest of his words unsaid. He tried to ignore the sound of Will's breathing, how it sounded a little raspy and wet, and prayed the blond's earlier impromptu swim wouldn't set them back further.

"Thank you for staying with me..." Will whispered drowsily. He'd be asleep in another few minutes.

Nico chuckled. "I couldn't leave here if I wanted to."

[daedalusdavinci]

asked a friend for a prompt and this is the second one they gave me! revisiting the OGs <333

25. “I would not be surprised if you got struck by lightning right now.”

Nico scowls at Leo when he says it, all gloomy child-of-darkness in the twist of his mouth and the scrunch of his nose. He's not half as intimidating as he thinks he is, something young still hanging around in the pettiness of how he hands out frowns. "My luck isn't that bad."

"I dunno," Leo drawls, folding his arms behind his head with a shrug. "You're kind of testing fate here, aren't you? I mean, fucking with the Chosen One."

"Jason is not the Chosen One. Not anymore than you are," Nico scoffs. It strikes Leo that even though he's a child of the Big Three, same as Percy or Jason, he doesn't think Nico's ever been Chosen for anything. And yet, he acts like it's something mundane and stupid, like having a Tesla, instead of something he'd ever be envious of. Leo was one of the Seven, and he wasted absolutely no time developing a complex about whether or not he was the important one. Nico makes it sound like the whole prophecy was just some stupid thing they did one time.

Instead of focusing on how that makes him feel, Leo grins and jokes, "Aw, you think I'm on par with Jason?"

Nico's scowl deepens. He turns his head, jerking dark curls out of his eyes. "Whatever. You shoot flames out of your hands, so sure. You can be a Chosen One."

He says it like it means nothing, but it kind of feels to Leo like it means everything. "You think I'm cool," he says gleefully.

"I did not say that."

"You think I'm cool," he sings, lurching forward to throw an arm around a squawking Nico's shoulders and drag him in.

"No!" Nico all but yelps, flailing to try and duck out of his sweet embrace. "Leo, you loser!"

"Hey, Jase! Nico thinks I'm cool!" Leo shouts, still trying to grapple Nico into a one-armed hug while he attempts, simultaneously, to wave at Jason. He's not surprised when Nico's palm hits his face and shoves him away, sending him stumbling backward with more force than he really expected.

"Nico, don't hurt him," Jason calls back, sounding pained.

The glare Nico fixes on him is fierce, practically smoldering in the face of Leo's laugh. "You are such a loser."

"I'm so cool. And we're best friends," Leo says, grinning back. And he thinks, when Nico's glare cracks, just for a second, that he might be right.

[mathitas]

What would they give their S/O for Christmas?

HOO seven plus Nico and Will x Gn! Reader

Percy

He'd gift you a gift box. Food, things you like... oh, and of course the food is blue. He loves you very much, so since the start he knew he wanted to give you everything you could have wanted, and that's what he did.

Annabeth

She's smart, and she knows what you like. She'd give you something practical, and that'd help you daily, most likely related to your interests. Or something like a cute mug, like this one.

Jason

He's the kind of man to give you a book advent calendar or a really pretty necklace or bracelet. Depends on what you like; he'd usually know. He would most likely go for something pretty but simple.

Leo

Leo may even know you for years or not. Doesn't matter. He's freaking out. He doesn't know what to give you because he has so many ideas, and he's afraid you won't end up liking any of them. He ends up forging you something, maybe for combat or anything cute for you to wear, like a ring.

Frank

If Leo's anxious, he's even more anxious. He's scared that you won't like his gift enough, and if he ends up giving so much thought into it, he may end up giving you something weird. However, in the end, he decides to go for a piece of clothing. Gloves, a scarf, a beanie, or a sweater.

Piper

She's probably one of the best gift-givers in the world. Her gifts would never leave you disappointed, that's for sure. I know that she loves making clay things like these. These would be her gifts for you. She'd also definitely say "it's us" or something.

Hazel

Hazel would also be nervous about giving you a Christmas gift. But I can 100% see her giving you a handmade scarf. She put weeks of work into it, and she's so worried you may not like it, and she's so happy if you actually end up wearing it.

Nico

Two truths and a lie: he hates gifting time; he knows what to give you; he's a child of Hades. Guess the lie. He'd end up giving you something pretty, or something he already owns and finds special. You're even more special to him, so he wants you to have it. It's a part of him; please accept it!

Will

He's a child of Apollo; of course he's creative. Of course he'll give you a cute but simple gift. Of course there's a lot of thought behind it. Of course he made it and wrote it himself.

[graphx]

random percy and Jason thoughts

i know it’s kinda common, I’ve seen it around, that people don’t like Jason, he was introduced late, they gave him a weak tie in to why the Romans weren’t at the Battle Of Manhattan

and there are a lot of better quality posts/essays that discuss this topic way better than I do but I will say I really like him as a foil for Percy

Percy is progressively getting more and more fed up with the Gods and their bullshit by the end of HOO while Jason is swearing to make EVERY god a tribute/temple of some sort

while Percy gets bitter, Jason gets more sympathetic

It’s really ironic considering Jason has a lot of reasons to be upset since the gods have been manipulating him since birth even a bit more than Percy

He was taken from his abusive mother, loving sister and deprived of a normal life (that at least Percy got in some semblance with his mother) and he still has the capacity to love and care no matter the odds

i like that he kinda mirrors nico here too, who was friends with Hestia and both of them saw being a god isn’t as great as it seems

i do like that percy sometimes recognizes this but still doesn’t forgive them for their shit

and that’s really the end of my ode to Jason Grace and how my re-read has really opened my eyes to other aspects of his characters rather than picture perfect guy that struggles with expectations (which i also like that he mirrors that with Piper)

[huntingrays]

“My stomach’s all in knots

You got the one thing that I want”

—

Leo was used to jealousy.

For so much of Leo’s life, he dealt with jealousy. During the quest of the seven, he could recall feeling jealous of every single member. He was jealous of Percy’s perfection, Annabeth’s intelligence, Frank’s skill, Hazel’s kindness, Piper’s relationship with Jason, and Jason’s everything. When you feel inadequate in every way, it’s only common to look at those around you and wish you could pick them for parts. He wanted to scrap their very being and use those bits of them for himself. He wanted to take out his faulty qualities and replace them. He wanted what they had.

So, he knew and understood jealousy very well. He and the feeling were old friends. Well, maybe friends wasn’t the right word. He didn’t like jealousy so he didn’t think friends was the best comparison. Jealous was like his toxic ex-boyfriend. That sounded better. He was so used to jealousy and it kept coming back, even when he didn’t want it to.

Leo knew about jealousy, but he wasn’t used to it feeling like this.

He stared from afar at the two figures. They were pressed together, talking and laughing with each other. He watched them and felt the sour, burning feeling eat him away.

He watched a hand play with dark strands of hair. He watched a blond head of hair lean against the other. He watched blue and brown eyes meet each other. He watched two teens laugh, their worries being eased away.

It was strange how Leo was invulnerable to the heat and damage from fire but that didn’t stop the burning in his gut.

He realized that the feeling wasn’t quite jealous. It was more like… envy.

It was a mix of the two.

It was sadly comical how two people could have such striking similarities but end up in completely different places. The Fates must have loved making demigods that reflected each other and then seeing how differently they could affect their futures.

Leo tried to do the right thing. He thought he could save someone and save himself at the same time. The only thing that he managed to do was fuck everything up. He messed with fate and realized he wasn’t as loved as he thought. He returned and was met with punches and kicks instead of the hugs he wanted - the affection he needed.

He wondered how this was fair. He wondered if he deserved what he got.

He watched the two demigods, bitterness and envy clawing at his heart.

How was any of this fair? They both suffered in their life, so why did Leo get left behind? Why did all his actions come back to bite him? Why did he act to go through so much only to wind up with nothing?

Why did Nico get to end up happy when all Leo got was suffering? Why did he get a good partner? Why did he get a community of people who loved him? Why did he finally get to be happy and heal? Why?

Why did he get to end up with the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy of his dreams? Why did he get a loving, supportive boyfriend when all Leo got was survivor’s guilt?

He wasn’t sure. Maybe there was some greater reason, some karmic debt he had to pay off. Maybe he was simply the new punching bag of The Fates. Maybe he was just unlucky.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know and he didn’t want to find out.

He watched the boys and wished, not for the first time, that he could have what they did. He wished Jason and he could’ve had the fate they did.

[underworldxkisses]

finally with a bunch of drabbles

[frostyblustar]

Percy and Nico accidentally piss off a dream god and get stuck in a dream where their deepest desires are real. Their dreams mix together and rather than them being stuck in separate dreams, their in the same one.

Once they become aware they’re in a dream and wake up, their both have to grapple with the fake their “perfect life” was actually an illusion and what that means for their relationship.

Ps. No they aren’t dating before this, they are both in relationships already. Whether they get together afterwards is your choice.

Nico sat down beside his husband, Percy, on their porch during a pleasant fall evening.

Everything felt right. The texture of the sofa, the comfort he partook in when his cheek rested on Percy’s shoulder, and the pleasant feeling of an arm gently wrapping around him all put him at ease.

He looked down at their joined hands with a feeling of giddiness in his heart. This is what he always wanted.

Then it was ripped away from him.

The life he lived with Percy.

The dates they went on.

The battles they fought side by side.

The quaint house by the sea where they decided to live.

The proposal.

The wedding.

Somehow, it could all be ripped away in an instant.

Nico woke up in the infirmary. Blearily, he could see Will instantly standing up from a chair nearby and sitting Nico up slowly. “Nico?” He sounded shocked, “He’s awake!”

Blinking his eyes, he realized Will looked a lot younger than usual, and the infirmary was smaller than he remembered when he saw it last. Something was wrong, very wrong.

“Percy’s awake too!” He heard a faraway voice call out, much to his confusion.

“The curse must have worn off!” Will grinned, and then he was wrapped in a hug. He swore he imagined it at first, but lips pressed against his cheek too.

Alright, something was seriously wrong. He didn’t like to be hugged without being asked by anyone but Percy, he set that boundary years ago. The last time he got cursed was by an angry god a few years ago when he was forced to steal from an altar to fight some monsters. The curse seemingly did nothing noticeable.

“Get off.” Nico pushed Will away, “What’s going on? Explain.”

Will frowned, but explained. “You’ve been asleep for a week, so has Percy. Man, you two really need to stop angering the gods.”

A week…

“I need to see him.” Nico stood up, but his legs wobbled. Instantly, Will was at his side to balance him. “Let me see him.”

“No, you need to calm down for a second.” Before Will could even sit him back down, the door burst open and Percy stumbled inside.

“Nico?” He stared at Nico with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

This wasn’t his Percy, and judging by Percy’s expression… He looked down at his hands, and they looked smaller.

He wasn’t himself.

It took a few hours to come to terms with it all, and he was separated from Percy once more. He wasn’t sure what to do. Percy and him were dating different people at this time, and it was hard for him to hurt Will, but the feelings just weren’t there anymore.

He knew who he loved, and it couldn’t be Will. It was better to take him off the hook now than to leave him hanging.

After that break up, which mostly consisted of them both crying, he decided to head outside and to the top of the Hades Cabin. It was the place he and Percy met up for the first time to confess their love to each other, but that wasn’t real. One question stuck to Nico’s mind, did Percy share the dream? Or was it only his fantasy? They slept the same amount of time, but what could have Percy dreamt?

“Thought I’d find you up here.” Nico gasped softly, not turning around from where he was sitting. His feet dangled off the edge. Even with Percy sounding younger, he could still recognize that voice anywhere.

“Why is that?” He mumbled in response, hesitant.

Percy came to sit beside him, not answering directly. “What kind of dream did you have, Nico?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it yet. “You go first.”

“No, you go.”

Nico’s brows furrowed at that retort, they were both stubborn as ever.

“Gods, fine. We lived on a beach together.” He didn’t want to say anything else, just in case he embarrassed himself.

Percy hesitated, and Nico could tell he desired more. “And that’s all?”

In their marriage, he and Percy highly valued honesty. He still felt compelled to be truthful with Percy, even when the dream was over. This likely wasn’t his Percy, but if any of his Percy was in there he needed to know.

“In my dream we were married. I-I don’t know why.”

Percy let out a huge breath, his face relaxing. “Me too.” He seemed relieved. “Yep. We were. House on the beach and everything.”

Nico felt happiness for the first time since he woke up, but it was mellowed out by the dread of it all. He lived years inside of a dream. He had everything he needed, and he was so happy. Now, he was back to square one. Someone flipped over the chess board and now the game was starting over.

“I already miss it.” He admitted quietly. Nico felt an arm go around his shoulders like it had back when he was sitting on their porch during the fall. Then a hand brushed against his cheek gently, thumb lightly pressing on his skin.

“It’s alright. We could get to the point we were again. I still love you, Nico. You’re still my Nico in there.”

Looking up at him, Nico leaned into Percy’s hold.

“And you’re still my Percy.”