#dark x grace

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: bro, Idk how I start at point A and get to fucking outer space. Also happy bday to Steverino.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gardens of Astra Castle are unlike any you’ve seen before. Certainly, you’ve never been to a royal castle previously. Your father’s own hold is modest, still bearing the wooden foundation, whereas the rich lords have poured mortar and built in stone. 

So, it is a great honour to be among the noble women chosen to serve the queen. Most unexpected. As a daughter of a lower house, it is rather unusual, but it comes with the newly set writ tabled at the end of the uprising. That is how your father tells it anyhow. 

King Steven is as newly crowned as he is newlywed. After a lengthy revolt against the previous king, the land has settled, and upon his victory, the new ruler promises the expansion of prosperity to all. The very precedence of his war rested on the greed of the former court and its covetous lords. 

To those who took up his mantle, he has made good his word. To the commoners, he has sent bread and ale, livestock and alms; to the nobles, he has granted titles and lands. You were of the same doubt as your father, however, you expected to be forgotten in the disarray. 

Yet, you were not. You’re there with several other ladies. A set of blond twins borne of a duke and duchess, the sole heir of a widowed countess, and several earl’s daughters such as yourself. Unlike them, you do not wear satin or silk, not muslin either. You have only the dyed linen your mother attempted to enhance with some embroidery around the cuffs and collar. 

“Marcia and Marigold,” the twins introduce themselves as you cluster together in the gardens, grooms and servants bustling around carriages and chests. “Lady Calliope,” they call out the countess’ daughter, “we met prior, yes? Your mother is near Estrela.” 

“She is,” Calliope answers in her stern manner, herself seeming a widow in her black dress. The shimmery fabric makes up for its single tone. 

“Ameri, Dorida, and... Selene,” they point to the other girls, themselves clothed in scarlet, rose, and azure respectively. “We know the earls, your fathers. They gathered at our father’s hold for the battle near Caffre.” 

The twins take turns speak so that sometimes you cannot track whose lips are moving. It is even that they trade off in the middle of sentences. You find yourself almost as lost by their words as your new surroundings. 

“And you...” The twins turn their jade eyes upon you. It is there you have found the only difference in them; they have the same heights, the same hair, the same gowns even, but there is a sliver of grey through Marcia’s green iris. “We haven’t figured who you are.” 

“My father is an earl. In Woodsdam.” 

“Woodsdam,” they echo in unison and share a look. They are perplexed. 

“A minor house,” Calliope provides. “a farmer more than a noble, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“We have vast lands and we tend to them, yes,” you assure. You expect their condescension. Your father warned you for it but he bid that you keep your chin up. The king has given him a mission of his own and so you will represent the family for the time. “We keep our people well and we fed the king’s troops when they marched." 

“Mm, sounds very... common,” Marigold grins and her sister snorts into her hand. 

“We know many lords like us, yes. They work hard amidst their vassals. It keeps the lands strong so that we may better serve the crown,” you return evenly.  

Your mother helped you prepare. She coached you to keep your manners and your spine. The latter is much more difficult as you face these ladies and their bobbles with only a ribbon in your hair and a pair of patched gloves. 

“Woodsdam? I think I rode through it once on the way to my grandfather’s summer castle,” Ameri tuts, “it was little more than a swamp.” 

“It must’ve been the spring rains, perhaps, lady,” you offer. 

“Summer house,” she enunciates, “one travels there in the summer.” 

Your cheek twitches at her barbed retort. Very well. You are not used to their sharpness. Their chittering has thus far centered on gossip and the cost of their new caps. 

“A wonder the pauper’s daughter received an invite. Are you certain you can read, lady?” Dorida snipes and looks to the twins for approval. You notice how they all tend to do so. 

“It was sent to my father, Lord Eldon,” your voice quavers. You are not so strong as your mother bid you to be.  

They cackle at your meek response, “the precious maiden of Woodsdam.” 

You put your head down as the activity all around threatens to swallow you up. You wish the ground would rent and you would fall right through. All your excitement has dissipated to a sludge in your veins. You touch your cheek as you try not to show your embarrassment. 

“The Lord of Woodsdam,” a deep voice startles you as boots approach from behind, “is that what I heard?” 

You stiffen up as the ladies before you hush and blink, almost in tandem. They curtsey as their faces wash over in shock and you turn to face the newcomer. A man in a deep blue vest over black sleeves and grey breeches. He wears belt of gold and a circlet across his brow in a similar hue. It is that which betrays his statues. 

You lower your eyes and mimic the other women, mortified to be faced with new king so informally. You would not think him wandering out in the yard. Still, he has vowed to be unlike the former leige. That he would be of the people. 

“King Steven, your majesty,” the others titter in a messy chant and you murmur your own propriety as you back away. You find yourself still to the shoulder of the king as the other ladies give no room for you to join. 

The vision of him stains your mind. He is tall, with dark blond tresses that extend past his neck, and blue eyes which put his own attire to shame. He has a jaw which looks etched in stone and a bearing which matches his rank. He is tall and broad and a finely built knight. 

“It is an honour,” Marcia says most boldly. 

“You may rise,” he allows in a breezy timbre. “I did hear my wife would receive new ladies. Young ladies.” 

“Your majesty,” the murmur rolls across each lip. 

“It is much needed. We have so many established ladies at court and yet we need to think of the future. Of the next generation,” he declares as he emphasizes his words with his large hand. You watch his garnet ring to keep from so brazenly looking him in the face. 

“Certainly, your majesty,” Marcia and Marigold chime in unision. 

“And don’t worry for there are many young lords as well,” the king laughs galely at the quip which makes the ladies, yourself included, blush. “Ah, then, Woodsdam I believe we were speaking of...” 

You blink and glance at the other ladies. They are cowed, unsure if they were overheard in their derision. You hope as much as they that they were not. It is rather unflattering. 

“My father, Lord Eldon,” you explain, “your majesty.” 

“You? You are the young lady of Woodsdam I heard so much of.” 

“You did? Er, your majesty,” you curtsey apologetically; unnecessarily. 

“Certainly, I did. Your father was a great assistance in me holding counsel with the lower lords. He is very patient. “When not about his duty, he spoke of you oft. Though what matters are more important than family?” 

“Yes, your majesty,” you can’t help a smile, “my father is a very kind man.” 

“Kind and courageous. I’m certain you’ve inherited as much,” the king praises, “and these other ladies. The twins who belong to Mawsley, the Countess of Clovers daughter, and the three earls daughters from the White Plains.” 

The ladies each bow their heads as he proclaims them by their forebearers’ titles. You watch from aside, feeling even more out-of-place. The king recites them all proudly as he extends a finger for each. 

“Allow me myself to extend a welcome to Astra. When you are sorted, my wife shall receive you all and have you acquainted with the grounds. I hope you enjoy them, we’ve had the gardeners at work day and night,” he pronounces, “for now, I must be off, for a king has many obligations and not so much time.” 

He bows and turns on his heel, marching off with his shoulder straight and head high. He walks as a soldier does, not some lord. You’ve seen the difference before, more recently in the aftermath of battle. A soldier is more akin to a farmer, much as your father, whereas a Lord tends to keep his steps tight. 

“Wow, oh my,” Dorida fans herself, “he is rather handsome.” 

“Oh yes,” Marcia and Marigold say, the latter forging ahead, “we met him at our father’s castle. He is ever so charming.” 

“Hm, and the queen would love to hear it, I’m certain,” Calliope intones brusquely. 

“The queen is not here,” Ameri sneers, “so what does it matter? Besides, is it so wrong to state a truth?” 

“He is very elegant,” Selene agrees. 

“Much too kind, as well,” Marigold snips, “Woodsdam? He speaks as if it more than some paltry farmhouse.” 

“You’d never even heard of it,” Calliope remarks. 

“And how had you, hm? You seem the bookish type. Perhaps you should leave the maps to the men. What good will a river or road do for a widow’s welp?” 

“Needn’t be cruel,” Calliope rebuffs. 

“Pity if this is the lot they send,” Marcia shakes her head as the sisters share another cryptic look. 

You keep to yourself. That is all you can do. It is better to watch and learn than to leap and land wherever you might. Your mother always said so and she was your best teacher. 

“Right, there must be some maid who might show us to our rooms,” Marigold stands on her toes and waves at each passing servant. “I tire of the sunlight and boorish company.” 

👑

You have two trunks awaiting you in your chambers. Not as the other ladies who had at least a dozen each. Less humble than your lunger are the rooms themselves.

There is an antechamber hung with tapestries showing wildlife and flora, a table set for two and cushioned bench by the window. The bedroom is draped in similar hangings with a four-post bed and a grand hearth. A desk, another bench, a woven carpet, and fine accouterments on square tables. And a closet for the commode as well and a pot in the far corner of the bedchamber. 

If only your mother and father could see this. They would be just as amazed. You can’t help but admire all of it. To touch the curtains as you approach the window and stare off at the afternoon sky. The gardens are a medley of hues; petals and thorns; leaves and dirt. It’s all so wonderful, you can still hardly believe it. 

Seems those other ladies can’t either. You can’t help but think of their words anon. They said so outrightly what you doubted inwardly. You don’t belong here. It must be so clear to them. 

You lean on the ledge and peer down into the garden pathways. It is almost a labyrinth with how intricately they’ve laid out the hedges. You lower yourself down to your elbows and cross your arms as you sigh. 

Your eyes are drawn from the swaying roses to the dark speck that appears below. You squint at first. From the second floor, it is harder to discern. It is the glimmer of gold in his hair and the defined gait that gives away the king. For an instant, you believe you might be dreaming. 

He walks along one path and to the next. There is another with him. A man with darker hair and a stauncher figure. They speak and stop just as they enter a circled walkway centered by a large vase of flowers. The other man talks, though you can hear neither, and the king rubs his chin. 

You should turn away. They might think you an eavesdropper. Oh, too late! You don’t dare move as the king tilts his head. You wouldn’t want to pique his attention. You cannot tell if he has spotted you. Not until he raises a hand and waves. The other man stops and looks to follow the gesture. 

You stand up straight but before you can flee in horror, you recall yourself. It is improper to turn your back to the king. You lift your hand and return the wave. He dips his head and turns to clap his companion’s shoulder, pointing him onward. 

Oh, you hope he is not unhappy. If you pray, perhaps he will not have recognised you. You needn’t an enemy of the king as well. 

[girlkisser13]

dark red

"i think of her so much it drives me crazy" "i just don't want her to leave me"

pairings: jason grace x fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. jason is an overthinker. he’s just like fr.

summary: jason is nervous for your first date.

jason stood in front of the mirror in his cabin, fixing his hair for what had to be the millionth time. his fingers trembled slightly as he tried to smooth out a stray blond strand that refused to stay down. his heart raced as if he were preparing for battle, but this was far more daunting than any fight he had ever been in. tonight, he had a date with you— his first real date. he wanted everything to be perfect.

he was overthinking every detail: would his outfit look too formal or not formal enough? should he wear his favorite blue shirt because it matched his eyes, or would that seem like he was trying too hard? what if he tripped on his way to your cabin? what if he said something stupid? what if you realized halfway through the date that you didn’t actually like him as much as he liked you? his mind spiraled, conjuring up every possible worst-case scenario, and each one felt more likely than the last.

"what if she thinks the flowers are lame?" he muttered to himself, glancing over at the bouquet he’d carefully arranged earlier. the bouquet wasn’t just any bunch of flowers; it was a vibrant mix of colors and types. he had asked the demeter cabin for help, explaining that he didn’t know what your favorite flower was, so he wanted a little bit of everything. he hoped that his effort would come across as thoughtful rather than desperate.

jason took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to calm his nerves. "come on, grace. you’ve fought monsters, flown through storms, and faced titans. you can handle one date."

but this wasn’t just any date. it was your first date with him, and that made it infinitely more important. the thought of you— the way you smiled, the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about the things you loved— only made his heart beat faster. he cared about you more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

finally, with one last check in the mirror and a deep breath, he picked up the bouquet and made his way to your cabin. each step felt like it took hours, and by the time he stood in front of your door, his hands were sweating, and his mind was racing again.

he raised his hand to knock but hesitated. what if you weren’t ready? what if you changed your mind? what if—

before he could finish the thought, the door swung open, and there you were. jason’s mouth went dry, and every word he’d rehearsed in his head disappeared. you looked stunning, even more beautiful than he’d imagined. for a moment, all he could do was stand there, utterly speechless.

you laughed, breaking the silence that had stretched between you. "it’s nice to see you too, jason."

he snapped back to reality, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. "oh, uh, yeah, sorry," he stammered, holding out the bouquet. "these are for you."

you took the flowers, your eyes widening in delight as you took in the array of colors and scents. "they’re beautiful, jason. thank you."

he managed a shy smile. "i had a little help from the demeter cabin. i didn’t know what your favorite flower was, so i just asked them to give me every single flower they had."

you smiled warmly at him, a softness in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat. "that’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me."

jason felt a rush of relief and joy at your words. "it wasn’t a big deal," he said quickly. "you deserve so much more."

your cheeks flushed, and you smiled at him, making his heart race even faster. "are you ready to go?" you asked.

"yeah, definitely," he replied, offering you his arm. he led you away from the cabins, toward a secluded spot he’d chosen earlier in the day. as you walked side by side, jason glanced at you, his nerves still buzzing. "you look beautiful tonight," he blurted out, then immediately panicked. "not that you don’t look beautiful every day," he added hastily.

you laughed, a light, musical sound that made him smile despite his anxiety. "thank you, jason," you said warmly. his tension eased slightly, just watching you laugh, the sound calming his racing heart.

"i’ve been thinking about this date all week," he admitted, his voice soft.

"me too," you said, looking up at him. the sincerity in your eyes made his breath catch.

jason took a shaky breath. "i think about you so much it drives me crazy," he confessed.

"i bet you say that to all the girls," you said with a smirk, attempting to ease his nerves.

jason stopped walking, turning to face you. his eyes were earnest, a spark of intensity behind the blue. "only you," he said quietly, with such conviction that it made your breath catch. his honesty made you look away, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

ater a moment, you both resumed walking, and soon you arrived at the picnic spot jason had set up. a blanket was spread out on the grass, with a basket full of your favorite foods and drinks. you sat down together, and jason watched as you looked around, taking in the peaceful surroundings and the effort he had put into making everything perfect.

"this is really nice, jason," you said, looking at him with appreciation.

jason felt a wave of relief wash over him. "i’m glad you like it," he said. but despite your reassurances, the nervous energy still lingered. after a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice quieter. "i was so nervous you wouldn’t like me."

you turned to him, surprise in your eyes. "what? jason, that's ricdulous. i wouldn’t have come on this date if i didn’t like you."

he nodded, looking down at his hands. "i know, but…" he hesitated, then finally looked up at you, his blue eyes clouded with worry. "everyone i’ve ever cared about has left me. my mom left me. thalia left me. i just…" his voice broke slightly. "i don’t want you to leave me too."

your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you reached over, taking his hand in yours. "i’m not going anywhere, jason," you said softly. you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting hug. he held you tightly, resting his head on your shoulder, and for a moment, all his fears seemed to fade away.

"thank you," he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "you don’t need to apologize for how you feel. i’m never going to leave you. i swear it on the river styx," you promised, your voice steady and sincere.

jason smiled, a genuine, peaceful smile that made your heart swell. "you have no idea how much that means to me," he said softly.

you smiled back, resting your forehead against his. "i think i have an idea," you murmured.

for the first time that night, jason felt completely at ease. he felt safe, knowing you were there, that you cared. with you by his side, jason believed he could finally be truly happy.

[radio-writes]

Keep All Your Worries Aside

Alastor on his partner's birthday - Headcanons

Warnings: implied power imbalance, slight manipulation

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, fluff, self indulgent as hell

MDNI

Alastor used to adore birthdays when he was alive. It was the perfect time to get to know people; friends and targets alike.

He also got the chance to earn the person's favor, which was never a downside to him. He never knew when it would be useful to have those people on his side, after all.

Whenever he had partners in his lifetime, whether just for show or out of genuine care for their company, he spoiled the ever living heart out of them. Dinner, gifts, dancing, his absolute undivided attention—whatever they wanted and more he made sure to give it all to them.

It was unconsciously an addicting habit for him. He loved the way it made them so happy. How he knew he was the cause of their smiles and hence could just take it away any time he wanted to. How it made them so thankful to get to spend such a special time with him.

After he died, however, the excitement over birthdays was all but left behind in the mortal part of his existence.

Alastor didn't see the point of celebrating a birthday, specially when in Hell. After all, he was hard pressed to even find anyone that was happy about being born into this world, only to be stuck in such a miserable cesspool in the end.

And besides, not a lot of wandering souls even revealed that much of themselves anymore. Something as personal as a birthday was often kept a secret, in fear of it being used against them somehow.

Perhaps, sarcastically, he has brought up the idea here and there. If he knew it brought some sort of anguish or misery to some lowly sinner, why wouldn't he? 

But when it was his darling partner who just openly shared such information with him? Oh, he just couldn't help but to be interested.

Such a little act showed how much they trusted him, and he couldn't just let that go unpaid, could he? It would mean he would owe them, after all.

Alastor found that his old habits came back a lot faster than he expected them to. He found himself dragging his darling out all around the pentagram—whether they wanted to go or not—showing them off, showing them the sights, showing them a generally great time with his arm looped around theirs.

He bought every single thing they even glanced at, but he didn't dare burden their arms with holding it all. No, he had his shadow creatures trailing behind, carrying all his gifts for them.

Couldn't he just simply bring them into their room at the hotel? Of course! Easily so with a snap of his fingers. But that wouldn't be as fun as getting to show off just how well he could provide for his partner.

It's only when his dear finally asked him to ease up on the fanfare—they feared the trail of shadows would cause a traffic accident at this point—did Alastor finally stop and just transported their gifts to the hotel.

He took them out dancing, shopping, drinking. Always had a hand on them no matter what, to keep them close.

He found that old giddy feeling in his chest seeing his darling smile because of him—knowing he alone caused their happiness.

And when they thanked him at the end of it all? Said those oh so humble words

"I have no idea how to repay you for all of this."

Well, no one could blame him when his grin stretched just a tad bit wider. Eager, excited, thrilled. He hadn't exactly set out to earn any favors on their birthday, it was simply to pay back the trust they gave him.

But hey, he wouldn't turn down having his darling in debted to him. And he could certainly think of a few ways they could return the favor.

It is my birthday and if I say I want fluffy Al, I'm getting fluffy Al.

[tenthprinceofhell]

I knew this duo reminded me of someone 🤔

[xenaisnumber1]

The strong, silent character who becomes an efficient killing machine when their girl is threatened.

[invisible-pink-toast]

[aryxchse]

hello!

i see ur requests are open so i have one (potentially) if ur willing to write it!!

yk how we get some glimpses into a dark percy jackson in the HoO series when he’s protecting annabeth… what if we got some of that for jason grace? potentially like the reader, she’s threatened by a minor god or monster or anything, so jason kinda goes unhinged? maybe like, he takes the air out of the opposing party’s lungs or anything else kinda unhinged?

i hope any of this makes sense lol thank uuuuu

🫶🫶🫶

dangerous storms / jason grace x female! reader.

a / n : I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING BECAUSE WHY THIS MAN HASN'T BEND SOMEONES OXYGEN ALREADY???

warnings : jason grace's angry self, airbending type of shit, cursing, DANGEROUS JASON I REPEAT DANGEROUS JASON!!

jason grace was a calm man.

he was rational, he would think before he act and he never made a move with his feelings. call it him being roman, or his father being literally the king of the gods, or maybe him growing up with a wolf raising him. jason grace was always the type to show his powers through strategic thinking.

well, everyone has boundries right?

he had a thin line in between destroying one thing or everything when it camed to you. if you're fine, then no one has to fear for anything. if you're okay, safe and healthy, no one has to panic.

but if it's the other way, than everyone should pray. even the non-believers. because jason grace can be scary and intimidating when he wants to. and he's so damn good at it.

things weren't supposed to go this way. you weren't supposed to get kidnapped by some giant. the plan wasn't this way, then why, why we're you in danger?

jason stopped being rational. his brain only said 'why, why, why' for like, an hour now. jason wasn't thinking straight. jason wasn't thinking.

"jason, we're gonna save her," piper tried to charmspeak him, but it didn't worked. the girl who put gaia back in sleep, couldn't calm down the son of jupiter.

percy jackson, who was feared by most monsters, demigods and even gods, was afraid how jason acted at the moment. but he didn't judged, he knew he would act the exact same way if something happened to annabeth. which, he did.

he was the only one who would go down with him if he asked. boundries we're boundries, and percy knew that very well.

"jason, we can make a plan." piper tried again. she was trying from the moment they got you. but it wasn't working and she started to get anxious.

"yeah, man. she's strong, she could be on her way back here even-" leo tried his best too. he couldn't recognise his best friend right now. he should've been like percy, who wasn't judging jason's madness and ready to go down with him. but he couldn't—it was like leo meeting jason for the first time, again.

"i already have a fucking plan." jason snapped, but he was quiet. which, it didn't help with the gang's fear. "and you guys are not involved."

"you sure?" percy asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "my hands been itchy these days, and riptide is no better."

jason wanted to smile, but his situation didn't allowed. instead, he softened his gaze, just a bit. "thanks, but i'll handle it myself. it's my war now."

percy nodded, giving a look at the team. 'if someone wants to stop him, they have to go through me.'

"go get em', tiger." he joked. and jason flied away, not answering.

‎ ⚡️

you would fight for your life if you weren't hanging up by the chains on your wrists. your feet we're dangling in the air, and arms hurting from carrying all your weight. the sick giants put some fancy greek dress on you, making your hair prettier while you were unconscious.

the giant fucking fell in love with you, and it certainly did not liked jason.

jason. we're was he? what happened to him?

well, you we're about to find out.

"oh dear," the ugly beast purred, his big hands finding your tiny body. you disgusted, squirming under his touch to get away. but it was no use.

"you'll be all mine once i make the potion." he rambled, drool on his chin that showed you how hungry he was for you.

"in your fucking dreams." you spat, eyes shooting daggers. you we're jason's girl, and your own person, most importantly. "i'm already taken."

the giant growled, mixing the sound with his sick laugh. "that jupiter boy? he got nothing compared to me sweetheart!" he yelled and his voice echoed through the big cave. where we're you, even? "he has to kill me to get you!"

"be careful what you wish for." the sound made you melt instantly. how was he able to find you? well, you didn't cared to be honest. he was here.

jason's eyes we're nothing like before. it was like his own eyes had their storms and thunders. one part of you we're amazed, while the other got scared. you knew he wouldn't even touch you if it ever hurt you, but you we're scared for him. not from him. for him doing something he'll regret for the rest of his life in order to protect you.

but, jason seemed to not give a damn.

"you tiny little demigod! you have no chance against me, you don't even have a god next to you to kill me!" he yelled, leaving you dangling in the air again. you wanted to call jason's name, but your voice muffled through the lightning.

"i don't fucking need a god," jason hissed, taking position. "i'll send you tartarus myself."

it all happened quickly. jason was so fast, unlike the big giant trying to capture and kill him. he was like a lightning himself, moving in light speed. there was a blonde thing moving, and you couldn't understand if it was his hair or sword. also there was little lightning sparkles that helped you figure him better.

then, the next thing you knew, jason was on top of the beast's face. he quickly called a lightning before stabbing his sword into the giants eye. it growled, but didn't falled.

"this is what you take for hurting my girl. my loved ones." jason said, his free hand going up in the air. you thought he was gonna make the giant eat some lightning, but it didn't go that way.

"remember my name in tartarus," he flied up again, taking a large air with him. the beast suddenly started to choke, holding it's neck desperately. "and make sure your friends does too."

it was the last thing giant heard before falling down, his oxygen flying in the air and dissapearing. jason immediatly flied towards you, cutting your chainst and holding you by the waist before you fall.

"jason," you breathed out, crying. you couldn't believe what you just have witnesses, but you figured it was the best to not mention. you we're happy that you we're safe now, in his arms.

"baby," he panted, hugging you so tight. you guys slowly landed on the ground, jason still clinging on you. "thank gods you're alive."

"i got scared," you admitted. normally, you would rather die than admit someone you're scare. but it was your jason, who could you tell if you're not gonna tell him? "he was gonna- jason, he was gonna make me one of them."

"shh baby it's okay," he cupped your face, his own tears matching you. but he had a smile, a smile that appeared once you we're in his arms. "i'm here. no one's touching you ever again okay? i'm here." he gently wiped your tears away, kissing you after.

you relaxed the moment your lips met, but it wasn't very long until you both heard footsteps again. jason quickly picked you up in bridal style, flying away from the little crack of the cave.

later that day, you both layed together in his quarters at argo ii. everyone decided that they shouldn't ask questions, like they didn't asked percy and annabeth after they got back from the tartarus.

even coach hedge let you snuggle eachother, because he saw how hurt jason was. he needed you for his own sake, to stay sane.

jason was the child of storm after all, he knew how to be scary when he wanted to. he kept it all inside when you we're near and safe. but if something slightly happened to you, he knew how to show them real power.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Let’s be real, we would be seeing a lot more of dark!Percy after the war. Like the scene with the toilets? That would happen a lot. Especially in times when he’s just trying to enjoy his new life with Annabeth and some monster tries them, he’d have no struggles slicing them to pieces in seconds. And if it’s a person trying to threaten them, Percy would go berserk. All his life he’s been a pretty good boy, and he’s tried to be decently noble within his battles, but now if someone even hints at hurting Annabeth, he’ll go to any extent to make sure they know just how serious he is. Sometimes it scares Annabeth, because she knows the change in behavior is because of her, but she can’t do much to change it. Plus, she wouldn’t be the first to admit that he looked pretty hot when he was mad. Percy had made his mind up that anyone who tries to get in the way of his future wife will be sent straight to Tartarus.

[alcalexandria]

Dani & Grace by Hattersarts

Pretty darn spectacular piece by @hattersarts , who also did this stellar Sarah piece.

https://hattersarts.tumblr.com

[punkeropercyjackson]

It blows my mind that there's actually a pretty large section of Pjo fans who think Percy should've become a unbeatable powerful ass fuck off deity with a harem because 'it's in his blood as the son of Poseidon' and 'he wasted his powers and inheretance by choosing kindness and his normal friends instead of highups' like damn calm down Lord Ozai,you're talking about an afrolatino who grew up in New York and is probably transfem with undiagnosed autism not a back in the good 'ol days testosterone fulled nepotism baby

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: friday!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You are summoned to the queen’s chambers shortly after your arrival. You come together with the other young ladies from courtyard in the corridor just before a set of painted doors. Within, Queen Margaret keeps court with her ladies, of whom you are to be one of. The thought alone has you devilishly unnerved. 

The guards in their livery greet you with dull eyes. The groom announces your purpose and receives little in return aside from the one soldier’s lazy reach to tap upon the door. He lifts the lever and eases a space between the wood. 

“Your highness, you’ve some ladies requesting an audience,” he drones through. 

There is some movement from within. A lady servant appears in her white cap and beckons you inward. You are further intimidated by the formality of it all. Marcia and Marigold rush ahead to be first and the three earls’ daughters from the White Plans take up their train. You glance over at Calliope and trail after her. 

The doors shut at your back and the lady maid retreats, her soles scuffing amid the murmur around you. You look around the skirts of the other debuts and see women in recline, others perched upon cushions and stools, all at leisure with needle, book, or frame. There is another at the window, sat between two ladies on the bench, the late afternoon breeze stirring the long waves that hang around her face, the rest of her chestnut hair twisted up behind her hood.  

The lady maid stands at the wall in deference, “your highness.” 

The brunette raises her chin and her eyes narrow at the lot of you. You can barely see much past the shoulders of the twins and the other ladies clustered closely in shared apprehension. Still, the twins stand tall and the other ladies hardly seem as wrought as you in the ceremony of it all. 

“The twins of...Mawsley, is it?” The queen declares, “yes, your father proved himself a valuable asset, didn’t he?” 

“Your highness,” the twins recite in unison and bow, “Marcia,” the first introduces herself, “Marigold, the second adds. 

“How keen,” the queen chimes, “you look as the same person. How amusing.” 

“Thank you, your highness,” the sisters chirp. 

“And those gowns, wonderful. I may have to ask after your tailor,” Queen Margaret preens, “and where is the Countess’ daughter? I recall I met you once when you were still a child.” 

Calliope steps dutifully, “my mother sends her regards.” 

“Oh, yes, that poor widow,” the queen bemoans, “she is ever steadfast despite her plight.” She takes pause as you sway to see her, “and the rest of you, forgive me, these last days have been a whirlwind and I’ve heard an endless slew of names one after another. 

“Lady Selene,” the very lady proclaims. 

“Lady Ameri,” she bows in quick succession. 

“Lady Dorida,” the last shows her courtesy in an elegant bend. 

As you come forward, the twins push their arms together as if to block you out with their sleeves. You sidle side to side and sweep around their skirts with an ungraceful stumble, “your highness,” you greet as if you have something stuck in your throat. You swallow before you can muster your own name and title. 

“Woodsdam,” the queen tilts her head and looks from the lady at her left shoulder to the one on her right, “I’ve never heard of it.” 

“Neither have I,” the leftmost agrees. 

“Farmland,” the right says. 

“Yes, your highness, my father is a farmer, but an earl as well,” you supply. 

“Mm,” the queen looks down her nose as her lips thin, “it appears the Woodsdam style is much... defined. I don’t think I’ve seen that style gown since my grandmother was still on earth.” 

You look down at your modest cotton. The square cut of your bodice is much different than the other ladies’ rounded collars. Your mother crafted the dress from pieces and the seams are tidy, yet it does lack a similar flair to the others around the chamber. You raise your eyes and keep your composure as best you can. 

“Many thanks, your highness.” 

The queen scoffs, “quaint, indeed.” She sits straighter though her posture is already unyieldingly staunch, “ladies, please acquaint yourself. And be certain to pay heed to these ladies who know well the ways of court. For all that’s changed in these past years, we will retain as ever our elegance and our etiquette.” 

You peer around, uncertain what comes next. A lady stands and calls to Calliope, “Lady, it is me, Gwendolyn, of the Spades. Near Clovers, you will know it?” 

Calliope accepts the initiation and there is a swift storm of voices swirling around the lot of you. You flutter hopefully that someone might think of Woodsdam or might’ve been to the waterfall near Aquil, not far from your father’s hold. The twins confer still with the queen and her ladies, trilling and giggling, as Serena and Dorida marvel over another ladies’ sewing frame, and Ameri is overly familiar with a lady swollen with child. 

You drift away from the centre of the chamber, trying not to draw unwarranted attention. It would do little for any to note your insignificance. You’ve all to soon faded into obscurity. No one cares for a farmer’s daughter. 

“Eh, do you read?” The question startles you and has you spinning to face its speaker. She looks as she sounds; squawkish. Birdlike. Her blond waves are woven with strands of silver and her hooked nose is not unbecoming. 

“Yes, lady, I do,” you answer, uncertain if she is genuine or she means it as jab. 

“Have you read Corswin? He wrote a fair tale about a shepherdess.” 

“I’ve not heard of him,” you recover your confidence at her interest. It is clear she humours you, that she is speaking to only keep you from floundering. 

“I must lend you a book or two,” she insists, “come sit with me. These old hens grow tiresome.” 

“Many thanks, my lady,” you accept and claim the stool next to her, shifting it closer. 

“Sarah,” she gives her name, “Woodsdam. I’ve never been. I hate the swamps.” 

“Oh,” you nod, “yes, it isn’t very swampy. Only in the rainy seasons but we get the sun.” 

“Mm, still, I’ve been down Ashton and I hated the place. My horses caught some sickness there,” she gripes, “perhaps though, your home is more pleasant. A woman old as me, though, I don’t venture far as it is.” She tuts and taps her oval nails on the book in her lap, “if my son wasn’t so foolish as to take up his sword, I’d still be in my library, hidden away from these chits.” 

You clasp your hands together and smile. She’s amicable and you wouldn’t want to bother too much. She flutters the pages of her book and huffs. You look around, sensing some intrigue from the other ladies though they do their best not to let their flitting eyes be caught. 

“All these birds know how to do is cloister themselves up like nuns,” she bemoans, “I’d as soon be out in the sunlight. If I were home, I’d be in my courtyard with a better book than this,” she wags the volume in agitation, “and you, lady? What is it you do on the farmstead? Chase hens?” 

“We have geese,” you say, “though they aren’t truly kept. They sort’ve linger around. And some cattle.” 

“It does sound rather bucolic, this must be all so drab to you, castle walls and dusty tapestries.” 

“Oh, it’s all so wonderful,” you expound. 

“It is?” She drawls tritely, “aren’t these ladies of ours so polite? The way they whisper about our hems and our titles. Don’t let yourself be fooled, though I suppose that should be as good a warning against myself. Ladies of the court are like crows; the like shiny things and the hold grudges, and sometimes, they needn’t even a reason to peck your eyes out.” 

You close your lips and swallow. Her tidings only underline the unwelcome forged in the queen’s introduction. All you might forgive is at least she seems genuine in her girding. You look down at your skirts and run your fingers down a crease. 

“The dress is not so hideous,” she assures gently, “some of the ladies do forget we did just fight a war. There are those without silks and without food in their bellies. They should weigh their fortune that they are still alive and well.” 

Your eyes meet and she looks a little less stony. She turns her head to the window and her gaze drifts into the distance. You follow them with a sense of solemnity. Again, you snare a few glances from the others. Many men died, women and children too. It wouldn’t do to care so much for what people think of your wardrobe. 

👑

Your first day at the castle ends in a fine supper of freshly baked bread, beef with gravy, and seasoned scallions, onions, and sweet herbs. It is not so hearty as your mother’s stew which you share as often with the servants nor so delicious. It’s a different sort of taste but not unpleasant. 

You retire at the queen’s behest. She declares she must see to her husband and several of the other ladies claim the same of their own. You rise and wait courteously to tail after other ladies, not wanting to get underfoot as you so often did on the farm. As you stand aside, Lady Sarah swats you with her book. 

Skirts swish against the rows of chairs and benches that line the long table. The dining chamber is set with the portrait of peregrine and similarly hawkish depictions woven into tapestry and tablecloth alike. Despite the uniform decor, the furniture is mismatched and the hews of wood and metal alternate with each piece. 

“Don’t fear the stampede, little calf, run with it,” she chides, “ah, I’ve decades upon these sows and they plod like heifers.” 

He uncouth words draw your surprise. She laughs at the look you send her and waves you off with the hardcover. She shoulders past you without pause. 

“One day you will see, it is better to speak the truth than let it shred up your soul,” she tosses over her shoulder. “Ah, naivete, how entertaining you are.” 

Her voice carries and you notice how the other women shy away from her. There’s a glint of deference to the tilt in their chins as they part for her like a like drawn in the sand with a stick. You wonder how she can be so bold and why the other might tolerate it. As Queen Margaret girded, you are to maintain propriety. Sarah seems to carry the same manners as any farmhand you’d known. 

You hurry to meet Calliope near the door as she departs. She seems the tamest of the lot thus far. Sharp-witted but not needlessly cruel. She turns her head slightly in acknowledgement of your presence. 

“There you are,” she mutters. 

“Did you enjoy the afternoon?” You ask brightly. 

“Enjoy? I tempered it,” she retorts, “I’ve the measure of most ladies.” 

“The measure? They were all quite friendly.” 

“You are too friendly,” she admonishes, “this is court, you cannot be so simple. Each lady is attached to a lord, thus they work upon his purposes. Her ears are always listening, eyes always seeing.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You represent your father and though mine may be in the ground, I carry his mantle all the same. We are our houses, not ourselves here,” she keeps her voice low and slows markedly to keep away from the others, “you should count yourself fortunate for my wise counsel, lady, for no other would give it.” 

You chew on her words, tasting their bitterness, “so why do you, Lady Calliope?” 

“For I despise those twins and I know they aren’t so keen on you,” she sighs, “and I saw you as any other did with the dowager.” 

“The dowager?” You echo. 

“The king’s mother, Lady Sarah,” she sends you a sharp look, “don’t tell me you didn’t realise?” 

“Oh? No? She spoke of books and her gardens, she didn’t mention...” you peter off and snap your mouth shut. But she had, she did say her son ran off to war. “Oh!” 

“Oh! Indeed,” Calliope mocks and shakes her head. “Look, I’ve not the patience for these women, but you’re not so bad. You don’t speak without meaning. Shall we be companions?” 

“Pardon?” You let your surprise bleed through. 

“I need at least one person I might stomach, how about you? I don’t think the others are so eager to be friends. Marcia did say how you look like a peasant.” 

“She did?” You frown. 

“Hm, you need me,” she insists, “you can’t let yourself be so whimsical. Never mind what they say or think. What do they care so much for anyhow? They are a duke’s daughters, they will do well enough.” 

You carry on next to her. You feel as if you’re being pulled in all different directions though all tell you just the same. Be wary 

[siravalondulac]

that silhouette | j. snow x fem!oc

summary: and then she was here and jon knew - he would be safe in her arms. always.

warnings: smut, p in v, woman on top, bottom jon snow

Silken drapes swayed softly from the canopy above him. The open balcony doors let in a cold breeze that chilled him to the bones. Rays of light from the crescent moon offered him a meagre look at his surroundings.

Jon didn't know whose bed he was lying in. Nor did he know whose room he was in.

The mattress dipped beside him, and before he knew it, she entered his view.

“Elle.”

Her braid fell over her shoulder, the brown almost black in the darkness. The blue of her eyes seemed to glow before him, making his heart beat faster. She smiled.

“Hush, my love.” She lowered her face towards his. “We do not want to wake the Others, do we?”

As his chest rose it touched hers. Only for a moment, and with layers of clothing between them, but still.

Her left hand came up to his face, her fingers lightly ghosting along his jaw, before laying down on his cheek.

Jon’s breath hitched, and then she closed the distance between their lips.

She was cold and soft and gentle, slow and controlling and wonderful. He would never let himself forget the taste of her lips, how they moved against his, the way she slowly coaxed his mouth open with her tongue. He obeyed, of course. She could do whatever she wanted with him, and he would let her.

Sometime during this, Elle had straddled his lap. He only realised after she had started grinding herself against him, burying both of her hands in his hair to get a better grip. She swallowed his moans, never once detaching herself from his lips.

Jon's hands clutched the blanket beneath him. He was getting hard, and uncomfortably quickly at that. His hips started bucking upwards, meeting Elle's halfway.

She moved her mouth away from his, allowing him to catch his breath, if only for a moment. Because soon afterwards, she started sucking on a spot right over his throat that made him let out a moan.

Elle smiled against his skin.

“You are allowed to touch me as well, my love. It would be a shame if you did not.”

His hands soon found their way underneath her shirt, gently running up and down her sides, making her shiver. And somehow, that reaction made him proud.

Her mouth left his skin as she quickly discarded her shirt and then helped him get out of his. Their pants followed.

She sat bare above him, and Jon could do little else but stare. Stare at her beautiful body, her small breasts, her strong legs.

He raised his hand and let it run down the underside of one of her breasts. Her breath hitched, and something in her smile changed. Not for the worse, thank the gods. No, it became a tad softer, more intimate - a smile shared between lovers.

As if in response, Elle moved her hips, and he wanted to pass out on the spot. Her centre rubbed over the underside of his cock, her wetness making it all the more pleasurable.

She lowered her mouth back on his, quieting his moans as he gripped her hips with both hands. He didn't even know what he wanted to do, stop her or encourage her to keep on moving, please keep on moving, never stop moving.

Her left hand travelled down his body, her nails raking over his stomach and drawing dangerously close to his dick. She smiled against his mouth at the increased movement of his hips.

“Please”, he begged quietly. “I need you.”

“Whatever you want, my love.”

Her hand encircled his dick, pumping once, twice before she raised her hips above it.

Jon held his breath.

The moment his tip was enveloped by her walls he almost came. She was so soft and warm and wrapped around him so perfectly. But he forced himself to hold back. He needed to enjoy this while it lasted.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she sank down on him, her mouth never once leaving his.

How did he come to be so lucky? Never once in his life had anyone ever spared him a second look and now he was in the arms of the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, being treated like he was worth more than all the gold in the kingdom.

He finally bottomed out inside of her. Elle pressed their foreheads together, apparently needing to catch her breath as much as he did.

They fit together so perfectly. His dick sat snugly between her walls and her chest pressed against his so closely, he could feel her beating heart.

One of her hands found his, still gripping her hips tightly, and interlaced his fingers with hers. She pulled both of them upwards and laid them gently onto the pillow beside Jon's head. So gently, never letting go, as if it was the only anchor that kept her in this world.

Elle moved her face away from his and opened her eyes. He had never been able to fully nail down what shade they were, appearing intense like ice one night and deep like the ocean the next. But now, with the way they glowed through the darkness, neither seemed like an apt way to describe them.

Then, she started moving.

Jon breathed in deeply in surprise, his mouth dropping open. It took everything in him not to moan loud enough to wake the entire Keep.

Her hips moved around in circles, slowly at first, then gradually increasing their speed. Her walls clenched around his cock, making him whimper and buck his hips upwards. She smiled, and started moving properly, her hand never once letting go of his.

He didn't know when or how it happened, but Elle's hair had come loose from her braid. It now fell in gentle curls just below her shoulders.

A crown would suit her well, he thought. One made of the finest of golds, inlaid with rubies the colour of blood. And her hair would be decorated with blue flowers the shape of stars, like the ones he had seen in Winterfell's glass gardens.

She bounced faster and faster on top of his cock, the slapping resounding throughout the room. His moans had turned into soft whimpers long ago. And yet, throughout all this, her eyes had never left his.

Jon was close, so close. He could tell Elle was too, the way her breathing had quickened just like his, the way her walls started spasming around his dick.

He knew he would never leave her. They belonged together, like sun and moon, like wolf and lion, like ice and fire. As long as he was with her, nothing would happen to him.

Just a bit more, he was standing right at the edge. Everything inside of him felt so good. The sweat and tears would all be worth it. He only needed one last push, then he would come. And once he did he would make Elle his-

Jon awoke with a jolt.

A dream. It had all been a dream.

Thankfully, he tried telling himself. He had not broken his vows. Even if he, technically, hadn't taken them yet.

His clothing was drenched in sweat and his dick was so painfully hard. He wanted - needed - to relieve himself, but even thinking about that brought his mind back to his dream. Back to Elle and how she fit so wonderfully-

No! He would not think about her, especially not in that way. He was to be a brother of the Night's Watch, and she was his friend. Maybe. Hopefully.

Jon looked around the room, studying his friends’ faces, wondering if he had made any sounds in his sleep that would have disturbed them in their sleep. But no one seemed to be awake.

He took in a deep breath and fell backwards onto his pillow again.

(The bed in his dream had been softer.)

He turned around and pressed his hips into the mattress, pleading for his hard-on to go away quickly.

(Much like how his dick had gotten hard so quickly as soon as he had seen her in his dream.)

His uncle had told him he would regret joining the Watch at his age, before he had experienced any of what made a man. Jon had wanted to laugh at him back then. But he didn't want to laugh now.

Why did his life have to be so difficult?

note: if you are intrigued by this one-shot and elle, might i direct you to the story this is inspired by: meet me in the dark, kiss me in the moonlight?

[xenaisnumber1]

When my otp moves protectively in front of the girl she loves

[onskepa]

Hii! Could you please do a vampire reader? It can be whatever you like (only If you feel comfortable), I love your writing so much!

Hellooooooooooooo darling~!! Sorry if this comes out as short, I did my best to extend it but I hope you enjoy this one~!!

---------------

Reypay

The na’vi have many stories to tell, each holding a specific purpose. To hold memories of those long gone, to tell of legendary stories, the heroes, the fallen, the times of sorrow, many stories that carry on and hold tradition. And there are many more stories that are new, still fresh. 

Be it odd, funny, or sad, there is a story for something. There are even stories to warn others, precautionary tales. Stories of things that lurk in the dark. What danger lies in place of which you cannot see. What happens to those who were not careful enough, falling victim to those warnings. But what story out there could be warning people? One. There is one story, a tale, a warning. A story that all na’vi have come to know.

“Is that a threat Dr. Augustine?” 

“Not a threat, but a warning” 

“Please, we got bullets, machines and a fuckton of blades. Nothing will stand in our way” 

In the Avatar program wing, Dr. Grace Agustine was standing bravely to the current Colonel Dayrl Hempenton. Beside him was his lieutenant colonel, Miles Quaritch.  Both stand tall, smirking in a disgusting smug way. Hempenton was looking down at Grace as if she knew nothing about pandora. 

“I'm telling you Colonel, you and your squad will end up dead before you reach the site. There is something worse than the viperwolves, worse than the thanators, worse than any predator native to pandora. Both the fauna and Na’vi fear this monster” Grace says in a stressful way. But Hempenton and Quaritch laugh it off. Cant say she didn't warn them. 

Grace knew better, if she cant stop them, only they will know what lies in the darkness of Pandora

The forest at night was restless, the animals, big and small can feel it. Quick and silent did the monster go. Looking for its next supply. It grows hungry, its need to feed grows strong every day. The insatiable hunger, to quench its thirst. It's been days since its last feeding. 

As it runs silently in the dense forest, within the territory of the Omatikaya village, Mo’at can feel the uneasiness of the forest. She knows. Mo’at knows that the beast hungers, and if it is not fed soon, she fears the bond will break and will come for her people. 

But it seems her troubles won't be long, as her little human technology beeps in the quietness. Grace has sent the word. Humans will be in the forest, and from what mo’at can understand, a population of 30 humans will enter the grounds. This makes mo’at sigh in relief. 

“Tonight, the beast shall have her blood….”

Many humans have landed down from their flying machines, armed and ready to reach their desired destination. They were equipped, ready to tear down any danger that is to come. Hempenton clicks on his voice communicator, radioing in on his luteninent. “Gold card this is hawks eye, we are on land and will pursue” he informs. 

Leading his team, they all silently start to make their way. It was dark and quiet as expected, making as minimal sounds as possible, using the heat signals of their cameras to spot anything hiding in the dark. 

“Hey colonel” one of the soldiers calls out to hempton. The leader turns, “yeah, what is it?”. The soldier looks at his radar in concern, “I see nothing sir, nothing on my radar” he responds. His fellow comrades chuckled like he made some silly statement. “Of course there is nothing soldier, it's night, everything is most likely asleep” Hempton responds as he makes clear a path. But the soldier frowns. 

“That is the problem sir. There is nothing around us, don't you hear it? It's dead silent. There is not even nocturnal animals around”

Quaritch and his squad were at their designated base, many armed and ready when given command from Hempton in radio. So far things seemed relaxing, every few minutes the squad would give updates and Quaritch would tell them how far they are from the place they needed to be. 

Booze and music was being played, feeling confident that their mission would go well.

But their cockiness blinded them. 

Soon in the intercoms, loud, painful screams were heard. 

Quartich grabbed his radio, “Hawks eye come in! Whats going on over there?!” he shouts, he and his squad mentally fearing the worst. 

“BACK UP!! BACK UP NOW!!” was what hempton was able to say after his intercom was suddenly shut off. Quaritch wasted no time and had his team fly out to the site Hempton and the rest were at. The other soldiers tried to get in touch with others but all they heard was the sound of flesh being torn, screams of unbearable pain, but no words was able to be said. 

And what felt like hours, really were only a few minutes. And what they saw was left with only pure confusion and horror. 

Machines broken, weapons shredded into small pieces It looked like a war happened. But in the middle of all the broken metal, on a wooden pike was the head of Colonel Hempenton. His eyes wide and expression of horrors to which none could know of. Whatever Hempenton saw, it was the last thing he ever saw before his untimely demise. Everyone stood silent, but had to go on, to see what else have happened. 

And then Quaritch and his squad all had the same question. 

“Where are the bodies?”

“Remember children, she is not our friend, she is not our ally, for the beast only cares for herself and no other. The bloodied beat lurks deep in the shadows, the darkness, her only enemy is the sun. To others, it is just a game to Reypay” neytiri whispers in a hush tone as she tells the old forest tale of the bloody beast, Reypay. 

Her children all look at her in amazement and horror. Yes, they hear the reypay story over and over, and will for a thousand times. 

“Mama…reypay won't come into our homes right…?” tuk asks as she huddles close to neytiri for comfort. The mother soothes tuk, stroking her hair, “no, reypay has never entered our village, never in our homes. Reypay is of many things, but even she has her own morals, "Neytiri replies. 

Neteyam gently pats tuks shoulder, “come on tuk, it's time to go to bed” he says. Neytiri guides her children to their hammocks, where Jake made sure they were all well cushioned. Each sully child is given a hug and a kiss of good night. Tuk was tucked in between kiri and lo’ak. All of them soon being carried into their own little dream world. 

All but neteyam.

In the middle of the night, Neteyam was awoken by Jake, silently gesturing to not make a lot of noise. “Dad, what's going on..?” he asks in a whispering tone, “come on” was all jake said. Guiding his son, Jake preps neteyam with his hunting blade and a short cloak. Neytiri is already waiting for them outside. 

“Mom, where are we going, what about kiri, lo’ak and tuk?” neteyam asks, getting worried by the second. Neytiri calms him, placing a kiss on the forehead, “they will be fine, we won't be taking long” she answered. The three jump from branch to branch, landing safely down to the grounds where mo’at was waiting for them. “Grandmother…?” neteyam whispers, mo’at gave him a look and all began to walk. 

Neteyam knows that no matter how many questions he asks, they won't be answered. At least not at the moment.

It was a walk, but they reached a distant floating mountain. Neteyam suggested to take the ikrans, but Jake said no. Where they were going, the ikrans were not needed. So as they reach the single small, floating mountain, Neteyam sees his fellow peers. All gathered, and all just as confused. 

“Where are we? What is going on?” Neteyam asks, looking at the mountain, he doesn't like the feeling it's emitting. Neytiri only shushes him. Jake and mo’at stand before the young crowd, “I know you are all questioning what is going on. Why you are all here, why in such hours. They will all be answered here. But heed our words young warriors, you will meet an important person. One who can be your ally, or your enemy. Choose your words wisely once you speak to her” mo’at said. 

In a single line, all of the young na’vi began to enter the mountain through its cave like entrance. Silent, only observing their surroundings. 

Neteyam enters last with his mother, with lit torches inside, they can see many things, things they wish they never saw. 

There were cages of humans, many from the recent raids Jake had led. Humans neteyam remembers were captured and taken away. He thought they were killed off sight! Many humans beg the na’vi to release them. So many cries of terror and hopelessness. “Don't give them your attention. Soon they will be gone” Jake says. 

The large group stopped at the middle of the large empty space that was inside the small mountain. Jake takes a step forth, “the stories you all have grown up with, the story of the bloody beast-” 

“It's all true~” 

A voice echoed. 

From the midst of the shadows, a human emerged from the darkness. But this human was different from what the na’vi were use to seeing. 

This human was of a young girl, her skin so deathly pale, her cheeks sunken in, ears pointed and narrow, her lips black as the night, nails long and sharp. Her eyes glowed red, and most of all was her teeth. 

Her teeth were sharp, and consisted of two sharp fangs. 

The girl licks her lips, wiping away the red liquid. 

“Greetings young warriors~ If you are all here, that means you are of age to know~” she says. Her voice is soft yet sickly smooth. 

“Age to know what? Who are you?” one of the youngsters asks. The girl giggles in a menacing way. “How rude of me~ My name is Reypay, at your delightful service” she makes a mocking bow. 

Her answer, reypay. The name of the scary tale the na’vi knew very well. But how is she real? It was a story! Just a folktale! 

“I know you are all confused, reypay? Real? Of course I am! I have been here for so long, why am I even older than mo’at here” Reypay continues. Her smile was wide and unnatural. Mo’at nods to confirm it.

“Why are we here?” Neteyam asks. And in a blink of an eye, Reypay was right at his face. Their noses are almost touching. “Neteyam Sully, my my. You have grown, I remember when you were a wee little baby. Fresh from the chrysalis. Even now you reek of that smell~"Reypay speaks, her red eyes staring down to his golden eyes. Yet her eyes held no shine, like no life was there. 

Neytiri quickly pulls her son away, hissing at Reypay in a warning manner. The girl raises her arms as a form of surrendering. “Easy there baby mama, I'm not gonna hurt him. I made my promise” proceeds to make an X across her pale chest with her sharp nail. Blood oozed for a bit until her skin healed itself. 

“You are not human, are you?” another na’vi asks. And the girl twists her neck in a gross manner, her dead eyes staring at the young one who asks. “Once. I was human once. But not any more, I am what they called a Vampire. Like in the famous story of mine. I am a creature of the darkness, enemy to the sun, and always hungry for blood~”. 

Clapping her hands, she makes her way back to Jake and mo’at. “I will cut to the chase because I have a busy schedule tonight. You all have passed your iknimaya. Now adults, which means you will all now attend the raids against the humans. What I want from you all is one simple thing….” 

The youngsters, even neteyam all leaned in to hear what reypay had to say. 

“When you fight the humans, do your best to not kill them, hurt them if you must, but do not kill” Reypay says. Of course this man the young warriors even more confused. The vampire hummed a bit, tapping her chin until she snapped her fingers. “Let me show you why”, she jumps to one of the cages, one that holds a single human, she opens the cage and grabs the human roughly and brings the being down. 

“PLEASE!! PLEASE HELP ME!! HELP ME-” the human begged but the mask was removed. 

“Bon appetite~” 

Reypay made a hissing sound and sunk her sharp fangs into the victims neck. Blood was spewing out. Feral growls were heard, her claws extended clinging tightly to the body. She was drinking human blood. And the poor human did put up a fight, but not for long. With the lack of oxygen and losing blood, the sky demon died instantly.

Neteyam couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Horror and fear was the only thing he was feeling. 

Reypay pulls away after a few minutes. Her mouth and jaw were covered in  dark red blood. “Aaaahh~ That was very refreshing~”, she drops the body like it was nothing, even stomping on the lifeless being. “As a vampire, my only source of nourishment is human blood. So calm yourself, your na’vi blood taste like shit and not even worth breaking my fangs for. What I need from you all, is to bring me as many humans as you can. In return, I keep you all safe as you sleep soundling in your little huts. This is a deal even your great great great grandparents accepted. So really, if you don't want to deal with them as much, hand the humans over”. 

There was a loud silence, so much was still being processed. mo’at stepped forward, “Reypay will keep you all safe, she has ability beyond our own. Unnatural yet powerful. I'm afraid, in this, you do not have much of a choice”. 

“She has kept you all safe for a long time. Before your parents existed. You don't need to be her friend or anything, a simple deal is all” Jake adds. 

Neteyam felt his mother slightly push him forward, “you must lead the example” neytiri whispers to him. Well he can't run away now can he? 

He takes a step towards Reypay, whose grin never leaves her dead face. “You have my word. I will give you the sky demons to keep us safe in return” he says. And not sooner enough, the other na’vi followed him. Reypay lets out a cold chuckle, “I look forward to your promise young warriors~” 

I liked how it turned out ngl. Leaves room for many guesses and stuff XD

But I hope you all enjoyed this one! Until next time! See ya!

--------

Reypay = Blood

[in7ernt-ju1ce]

Dark!Jason that gets his memories back and goes feral.

Just runs away, and everyone is scared or nervous because a child of the big three is mad at life and just ran away. Jump cut to Leo and Piper going on a ‘quest’ to find him, Piper gives up after a few months while Leo doesn’t because “Jason never gave up on me so I won’t give up on him” and “everyone gives up on me, I won’t let Jason feel the same.”

After almost a year, everyone had moved on and even got Leo a dog called Jason/Jay to help Leo move on. Just for the dog to go missing!! Leo doesn’t tell anyone but he had a tracking on the dog because he was smart so he goes out to find his dog because he won’t let the second Jason in his life disappear.

Only to find feral Jason holding his dog in a cave, surrounded by a wolf pack Jason had gotten adopted into. He stares at Leo as Leo entered the cave.

“You replaced me so soon~?”

“YOU WERE GONE FOR A YEAR, JAY. I TRIED TO FIND YOU-“

“I know. I was watching you.”

Cue to Leo promising to help Jason as long as Jason promised to keep contact with him, just to find out Jason was planning to over throw his dad.

Dark!Jason who is confused when the others try to ‘talk sense’ into him, who bares his teeth at them and growls. A Jason who after all the gods forced him through goes back to his roots and to the only goddess ever to felt like family to him, who went back to the wolfs who raised him.

(I went a bit off topic🤯)

[pjohoo-reclists]

Percy Jackson in Tartarus Fic Recs

A list of fics where Percy ends up in Tartarus and is forced to push his strength and powers to the extreme to survive. For similar content, I would recommend checking out my Dark Percy Jackson and Powerful Percy Jackson rec lists. Enjoy!

Pick My Poison by Bluestone_Dragon 

T | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Dark Annabeth Chase, Blood bending

When Percy confronts Akhlys, Annabeth doesn't turn away.

Dominus Veneni by Death_o7

T | 1.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Tartarus, Cussing

HoO glossed over Percy's outburst in Tartarus too fast so I'm making an one shot from it.

Mind Control by DancingInTheSliverGlow

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Dark Percy Jackson, Percy controls poison

Tartarus had its own rules. Fire was drinkable. The ground was the body of a dark god. The air was acid, and demigods could be turned into smokey corpses. Compared to that, the idea of controlling poisons was… easy. Percy glared at the poisonous lake around him. He focused, and reached with the part of his mind that allowed him to control water. The poisonous tide stopped. The fumes blew away from him and back towards the goddess. The lake of poison rolled toward her in tiny waves and rivulets. Akhlys took a hesitant step back. “What is this?!” She looked alarmed, scared even. Percy thought it was a good look on her. “Poison,” Percy snarled at her. “That’s your specialty, right?”

in your veins by ireekofinsolence

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Blood bending, Fluff and Angst

He hated it. What Tartarus did to him. What he did in Tartarus. What he became.

A Game of Chess by tiredpjofan

G | 1.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Annabeth Chase, Blood bending

The fumes blew away from him – back towards the goddess. The lake of poison rolled towards her in tiny waves and rivulets. Akhlys shrieked. ‘What is this?’ ‘Poison,’ Percy said. ‘That’s your speciality, right?’ He stood, his anger growing hotter in his gut. As the flood of venom rolled towards the goddess, the fumes began to make her cough. Her eyes watered even more. Oh, good, Percy thought. More water. Percy imagined her nose and throat filling with her own tears. Akhlys gagged. ‘I –’ The tide of venom reached her feet, sizzling like droplets on a hot iron. She wailed and stumbled back. (Extract from 'House of Hades') -- What if Annabeth reacted differently to this scene? What if she encouraged it?

bury me underneath this bloody grave by keigold

M | 2.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Bob | Iapetus

Blood bending, Powerful Percy Jackson, Angst

There is no one here to stop him from reaching out with a bruised hand and snagging monster blood, grabbing ahold of their dancing molecules and tearing them apart - no one here to stop his descent into becoming the thing he feared the most. or; What if Percy went through Tartarus alone?

Rescue Mission by DancingInTheSliverGlow

T | 7.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Protective Poseidon, Hurt Percy Jackson, Powerful Percy Jackson

The elevator opened about two dozen cyclops immediately exited the doors. Unlike the cyclops serving in Tartarus and Gaea’s army, these were fitted head to toe with celestial bronze armor and weaponry. As soon as they stepped out of the Doors of Death, they assumed their thirty foot tall size. At the center of the group, Annabeth caught sight of a thirty foot tall figure eluding power - even more so than Bob, Hyperion, Krios, and Damasen combined. He was covered head to toe in armor, and held a huge green trident in his right hand. He looked furious, but also somewhat familiar. “No.” Hyperion said, in disbelief. "No - you Olympians, you never interfere-" "POSEIDON!" Tartarus snarled angrily. The sheer power in the primordial's words threatened to tear Annabeth's body apart. “Dad.” Percy croaked. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, with a terrifying amount of injuries and broken bones. Even more blood dripped out of his mouth, but his eyes were fixed on Poseidon. ~~~ Aka. Poseidon hears his favorite son suffering in the pit and rescues him.

Kill the Hero by maverickk

T | 13k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Betrayal, Dark Percy Jackson, Feral Percy Jackson

"A slow death!" Misery had crowed at him. "A death from a thousand poisons!" And it was. It was slow, and painful, and terrible, and Percy wished he could he could say he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies. But it wasn't his death, it was Akhlys's—and she deserved so much worse. In which Percy Jackson goes A Bit Too Far, Annabeth Chase gets A Bit Too Scared, and the story changes for the worse.

Woven within the Chasm by Valenna

M | 14k+ | Ongoing as of 23/6/23

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Powerful Percy Jackson, Blood bending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Percy manages to save Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. It just so happens that he can't save himself, Nico stumbles after him in a desperate attempt to rescue before they are both sent plummeting into the abyss. Annabeth is tasked to lead the remaining Seven on the quest to meet the two demigods on the opposite side at the Doors of Death, meanwhile Percy and Nico fight through the perilous hellscape, pain and torture in every direction. Through hardship, strengthening bonds, and some much needed conversations, Percy and Nico forge a bond stronger than Tartarus itself.

The Stories Of Tartarus (Are Better Left Untold) by AthenaHyperFox

Not Rated | 17k+ | Ongoing as of 2/8/23

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson/Apollo, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Powerful Percy Jackson, No beta we die like Percy's self esteem, Deity Percy Jackson

Perseus was always meant for more. What if Percy ignored Annabeth’s pleas down in the depths of Tartarus?

those shattered glass shards, blood flows like a river by with_magic

T | 18k+ | Ongoing as of 9/8/23

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Percy falls alone, Dark Percy Jackson, Curse of Achilles

something inside him cracked - like a crystal ball had shattered in his stomach. percy falls into tartarus. he wasn’t supposed to go alone.

build me up from bones by phronima 

T | 19k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Jason Grace

BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Jason Grace, Ascension

“We should look for the Doors of Death,” Jason suggested, frowning at the barren landscape. “Nico found it, right?” “Along with most of Gaea’s army, yeah,” Percy reminded him, but it was their only shot at getting out. “I asked him to lead the others there. Uh, up through the sunny path.” Jason squeezed his hand carefully, an attempt at a smile on his lips. “Then we’ll meet them there.” (Or: Percy and Jason fall into Tartarus together, leaving the mortal world behind for the horrors of the pit. They are forced to journey through the darkness, battling monsters and gods, while stuck in a desperate tug-of-war between death and immortality.)

my throne of destruction by DiveInsideMyMind

T | 53k+ | Ongoing as of 4/4/23

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Nico di Angelo, Betrayal

Enemy. The word never even came close to describing him before. But now? Now it’s the only word that could accurately categorize the person he’s become. And he doesn’t hate it. previously titled “God Damn Right You Should be Scared of Me” (Blood bender Percy Jackson)

Eclipse of Olympus by MementoVivere11

G | 91k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Destiny, Romance, Dark

Percy and Annabeth never made it out of Tartarus, just as the Gods intended. To protect themselves from a prophecy that warned of Olympus’ end, the Gods kept it a secret from all but a few demigods. But with Gaea on the verge of waking, and without two of Olympus’ greatest heroes, can the Gods still achieve victory? Even if they do, will their actions stop the secret prophecy from coming to pass?

Blood-Red Herring by DAsObiQuiet

T | 142k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Tartarus Survival, BAMF Percy Jackson, Monsters

The Olympian gods have a history of making monumentally bad decisions and not learning from their mistakes. Of course that'll come back to bite them, and everyone seems to think Percy will be the one doing the biting. Thing is, he's tired and just wants to live a normal life. Too bad literally no one believes him except his friends, and now he has to survive the consequences of yet another one those monumentally bad decisions. AKA: Tartarus nearly destroyed Percy the first time, in more ways than one. It's worse the second time. So much worse. And this time, he has no way out. He desperately clings to the one thing he knows without a doubt: 'I have to stay alive for when Annabeth comes for me'. Because she will.

Tempting the Fates by likegallows

T | 144k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Action/Adventure, Slow build, Angst

The seven have uncovered the Athena Parthenos and are scrambling to save the world, and their camps, all on a tight deadline. And then Annabeth and Percy teeter on the edge of the pit. Though he saves Annabeth, Nico fails to save Percy and the two plummet into the abyss. The child of Poseidon must battle monsters, Titans, and the darker side of his own growing powers alongside the son of the Underworld. In Tartarus, the most ferocious demons are their own. To save the world they must survive, but to survive they must learn to trust the other and most importantly to forgive.

Falling For You by 1967HogwartsGoddess

T | 270k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & The Seven

BAMF Percy Jackson, Powerful Percy Jackson, Blood bending

In an alternate series of events, Percy saves Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. Too bad he can't save himself. As Annabeth leads the Seven on a treacherous quest to meet him at the Doors of Death, Percy fights through a wasteland of pain, torture and difficult choices. Surrounded by monsters, alone in the darkest corner of the underworld, he starts to question whether he's a good kid anymore. Final chapter is an AU following on from chapter 66.