#and even percy admits that if things had shaken out different he could have been just like luke

[pyreshe]

once again i am thinking about luke c.astellan,

#SON BOY ALLOWED #like i see a lot of luke slander on tiktok and stuff but like. i think people tend to forget he's only like 19 in the first book #and even percy admits that if things had shaken out different he could have been just like luke #luke is a kid too and he's got a GREAT reason to be pissed and want things to change #is hurting younger kids the way to go about it? no! but again. he's a kid who's being manipulated by an eldritch abomination #i also heavily subscribe to the theory that he's schizophrenic and is starting to show symptoms when chronos slides in #like the age and family history lines up with that #he is dear to me okay #like imagine having a home life so unstable u run away at 9 live as a homeless child for a few years watching out for two other vulnerable #homeless kids - while being hunted by monsters mind u- and then encounters his dad. a literal god. who can't give him a good reason #for leaving him all alone with his severely unstable mother. and then he gets to camp only to find out that for a lot of kids its just #where there parents throw them so they don't have to think about them anymore #me? i would be furious #✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: ooc / [mothman vc] take me home country roads #tbd

[praetoravila]

and the violence, caused such silence

i had feelings about clarisse and ellie. this is me attempting to write about them. title is from zombie by the cranberries. tw for mentions of canonical character death, as well as the words bitch, fuck and cunt - as in an insult being used. grief is also explored - particularly in the last scene which explicitly happens during/after a funeral. if this in any way may make you uncomfortable, please don’t read and do not feel obligated to reblog! tagging people i believe may be interested: @nolanhollogay @witchofinterest @thenoteonthepolaroidpicture @richitozier

the first time ellie noticed clarisse, it was when her older sister silena had mentioned something about the daughter of ares.

clarisse was scary to say the least. in all truthfulness, she wasn’t all that intimidating, not once you saw her every day. but she had this drive to her, this passion that could make you wonder how far she would go.

ellie wondered if maybe she would ever be that passionate. if maybe that’s what she needed for people to take her seriously. silena would have shaken her head and told her heart was perfect the way it was, and so was the rest of her. ellie resented her sister for that.

&

the next time she noticed clarisse was after the labyrinth. everyone knew what had happened. clarisse had gone into it and essentially come out a different person. someone more paranoid, more worried and more importantly, more quiet. usually she never gave up the chance to tease annabeth or fight with the stoll brothers, but the labyrinth - and saving chris had changed her.

sometimes it scared ellie. the way clarisse herself used to scare her. the quiet was unusual. it was uncomfortable and everyone knew it. even percy. she had seen them talking once. just clarisse and percy on the front steps of the big house, sitting across from each other, the toes of their sneakers touching.

annabeth had been jealous until silena had given her a harsh look. ellie wasn’t sure if she liked annabeth or not, but she knew one thing. whatever had happened in the labyrinth, it had brought percy and clarisse closer together, and percy and annabeth further apart.

&

the next time she noticed something about clarisse was right before the battle of manhattan. the girl was stubborn - piggishly so, but ellie had never thought the girl was stupid.

clarisse was smart. anyone who knew her, knew that. she wasn’t an athena kid obviously, but she was notorious for knowing everything about war - the major battles, the plans, the vocabulary. all of it.

why she would defer out of the war over something as stupid as a chariot was beyond ellie but she knew something else about clarisse. the daughter of ares would never admit it, but she cared about people and most importantly, she cared about percy.

so with the little strength she could muster, ellie found herself standing outside the ares cabin. she knocked on the door and waited three seconds.

“clarisse?” she called. no answer. “i know you’re in there.”

again, nothing. if ellie was smarter, she would have given up. but just as clarisse was stubborn, so was ellie.

“fine.” she grumbled, crossing her arms over chest plate. “we need you. there i said it. we need our fiercest warriors, and you know damn well you are one. i don’t care if you are mad at the apollo cabin, i don’t care if you hate me. but we need you, percy needs you. he might die today clarisse. do you want his blood on your hands?”

the door swung open. clarisse poked her head out. “eat shit twerp.” ellie rolled her eyes. “guees the big bad war god’s daughter isn’t worth shit.” she responded.

clarisse’s dark brown eyes met ellie’s hazel ones. ellie raised an eyebrow. before she could say anything else, chris rodriguez came bounding up the steps of the ares cabin. he looked sheepish as he smiled at ellie. clarisse opened the door further. ellie could see several of her brothers either rolling their eyes or smirking.

“hi.” chris said. “you gonna let me in?” ellie huffed, her ponytail swinging. “yeah clarisse? you gonna let him in?”

the unsaid question of, are you going to back out rang through the air. clarisse glared at both of them. she turned on her shoulder and spoke to one fo her brothers. “get my spear alex. i’ve gotta kick some titans ass.”

chris raised an eyebrow and clarisse rolled her eyes before grabbing his face and kissing him, long and hard. her chapstick left a slight pink tint to his lips - chapstick ellie knew she had stolen from silena during one of their many sleepovers.

“we gotta go rodriguez.” she said and chris nodded, kissing her again before placing a hand on her shoulder. “i’m on your side.” he said and clarisse nodded. “i’m on yours.”

ellie sucked in a breath. clarisse looked at her. “let’s go haynes.”

ellie nodded numbly. this was it. she was actually entering war now.

&

silena’s funeral had been a somber affair. there had been no eulogy, no fanfare. just a burial shroud burned, and the aphrodite cabin - what was left of it mourning together as drew lead the prayer. clarisse and percy were there as well, and everyone was wearing black. ellie had worn silena’s favourite yellow sundress over a black turtleneck. she did her hair in two pigtails, just the way silena did.

drew had helped her, but drew wasn’t silena. drew hadn’t been the one to hug her when she cried, or been the only one other than the athena kids to willingly listen to ellie explain whatever new physics fact she learned.

drew was cold. drew was a bitch. drew had thrown away silena’s sundress and told ellie she looked stupid wearing it to “a fucking goddamn funeral.” drew was mourning just like ellie.

it made ellie wonder if this is how it would be forever. drew and the rest of their siblings resenting her for being the sister to survive, resenting each other.

when the prayer ended, ellie choked back tears. clarisse made her way through the crowd. “hey twerp.” she said, her voice gravelly, like she was also holding back tears.

ellie looked at her. clarisse’s eyeshadow and eyeliner were smudged. she still had several cuts on her face from the battle, as well as a black eye that she had attempted to cover up - shittily.

silena had been the one to teach clarisse about makeup ellie thought numbly. “your mascara is running.” she said out loud. clarisse looked at her for a second before chuckling. the chuckle became a giggle and the giggle became a laugh. a full blown belly laugh like someone had said something funny.

it was insane. they were at her older sister’s funeral and clarisse was laughing. but there was something so absurd about it all, about clarisse wearing makeup, about ellie wearing her dead older sister’s dress and drew being such a cunt that ellie couldn’t help but laugh as well.

and once she began she couldn’t stop. and once she finished laughing, she was sobbing, openly and harshly.

because what the fuck. her older sister was dead. silena was dead and she wasn’t coming back and maybe ellie was a certified genius but she was also a little girl. she was 14 years old and all she wanted was her big sister.

she fell to the ground, tears streaming down her face, and before she knew it, clarisse had her arms around her. “it’ll be okay ells.” she said. “you’ll be okay. we’ll be okay.”

she said it repeatedly, like she was trying to believe it as well. and for the first time in nearly three years, ellie thought of the first time clarisse had intrigued her.

how the older girl had seemed so scary at the time. she wondered what previous ellie would think of all this. it hurt to think about.

but the hurt was also something else she realized as she buried her face in clarisse’s shoulder. it was passion, passion for her sister, for healing and love. love for her family, for her camp.

love and grief. the weirdest fucking combination. but hey, maybe there was something to it.

#oc; ellie haynes #percy jackson oc #heroes of olympus oc #*mine #brotp; clarellie (sisters by choice) #clarisse la rue #clarisse x silena #clarisse x chris #clarisse & percy #demigod ocs #demigodsocs

[alittlebitgoofy]

late night calls (taywhora)

The finale just aired, Tayce just finished filming the reaction and A'whora has been having a little party on her own. She's been drinking and talking to Tayce is the only way to ignore the longing in her heart. 

ao3 link

“Tayce,” A’whora whined down the phone, moving closer to it in a futile attempt to feel closer to her roommate. “I miss you.” She added quietly, huffing at Tayce’s laugh coming down the line.

“I’ve been gone for less than a day, you hound.” She’d left to film the finale reaction, the first time she wasn’t watching at home with A’whora as it aired. It felt weird not having her there but the feeling of excitement that filled the air as she, Bimini, Lawrence, and Ellie watched it together was enough to keep her mind off it.

A’whora hadn’t been as fortunate. Just the sound of her voice was enough to tell Tayce she was drunk, without even seeing her face she knew her roommate would be sprawled out on her bed, head shoved in her pillows thinking too hard about things and missing her best friend on the big night.

She heard movement, A’whora hummed in acknowledgement before the call abruptly ended and a facetime call rang out from the phone. She wasn’t in the most presentable state, still in drag from the morning, but A’whora had seen her in worse states. This wasn’t the worst she could look.

Her face lit up the screen when Tayce accepted the call, grinning widely at the sight of her friend.

“Tayce! You’re still in drag?”

“You called me just as I got back to the room, of course I am.” Tayce shook her head with a laugh, concealing the way her heart squeezed at the pout forming on A’whora’s face.

She was also in full drag, amusingly wasted and looking way messier than she’d ever admit to. Her eyes looked messed up as if she’d been rubbing them, she seemed to have thrown her lashes off at some point, natural eyelashes small in comparison to her usual look. Her lipstick was a bit smudged around the edges, like she’d been eating or just not paying attention.

“You’re actually a mess, what have you been up to apart from missing me?”

“Mcdonalds sent us some food, I got into drag because I had to shoot some photos and yeah,” A’whora cocked her head to the side at the question, tapping at her chin in what should have been an exaggerated way to signal she was thinking but was all too genuine in her intoxicated state.

“No alcohol? Girl, we both know you’re gone just admit it.”

“Maybe I had a little to drink, who’s to know?” A’whora snickered, her dimples showing through her smile in a way that melted Tayce just a little.

“Me, because you look a mess and you’re sat here at night in full drag when you could have taken it off by now.” Tayce looked at her blankly before erupting into laughter that led to an overdramatic huff and pout from her roommate. “You hound! Don’t mock me!”

“Oh, you hound! Don’t make fun of me!” Tayce pitched her voice up, whining in imitation. A’whora pouted more, her head falling into her arms with another whine.

“Don’t be mean, I miss you,” A’whora spoke quietly, looking at Tayce while tearing up. That explained the eye smudging. She sniffled slightly, rubbing at her eyes to keep the tears away. “When will you be back? We need to celebrate together.” She added, eyes pleading at Tayce to stay serious for just one minute. To let her vulnerability be okay and let out the softness she reserved for their most private moments.

“I’m leaving at one, so around four or five depending on traffic. I’ll grab some alcohol on the way back, and maybe some percy pigs? We could do with some snacks.” Tayce mused, smiling softly as A’whora giggled in delight at the idea, quickly moving from her sudden sadness.

They stayed talking for all too long, Tayce’s body screamed at her for staying in drag for so long but she couldn’t pull herself away from the giddy drunken giggles from the softie on the other end of the phone. She watched A’whora clumsily attempting to make getting out of drag sexy, pouting when the only response she got was a laugh.

“Don’t you think I’m sexy?” She whined petulantly, huffing as Tayce only laughed harder.

“Right now? You’re all sweaty from being in drag too long and stumbling around trying to get your outfit off. Not quite the sexy show you think it is, babe.”

“You thought I was when I was sweaty from you fucking me, what’s the difference now?”

Tayce stared at her blankly, hand over her mouth in genuine shock. She tried to stammer out a response as A’whora grinned deviously, taking pride in breaking her.

“George,” Tayce warned, voice devoid of its usual humour to the point A’whora felt a shiver travel its way down her spine.

“Why can’t you talk to me like that when you’re here? All stern and domineering. It’s hot.” A’whora took a complete 180, voice familiarly low, telling everything she needed to know. Tayce knew what she was looking for but she wasn’t about to do that. Not when she was drunk, half in drag, and still stumbling around attempting to get her outfit off.

“Maybe I can, but save it for when we’re in person? You’re sure giving me a lot of ammunition tonight it’d be a shame if I didn’t get to use it.” Tayce spoke cooly, barely containing her racing heart at the comment. A’whora would have seen through it had she not been so drunk, it was the only time she was thankful for her current state.

They’d ended the call not long after, A’whora finally managing to get out of everything as Tayce did the same. It felt oddly domestic, the two of them doing it together despite being hours apart. Tayce resolved to do that when they were busy later in the year. She didn’t know how being so far from one of her closest friends would go, they would do shows together sure but it would be different. They’d be tired and on the road and with Lawrence and Bimini. The Scottish queen wouldn’t let anything slide if she saw it and Tayce didn’t have the energy to deal with the cries of “sexual tension” every day.

A’whora was gone, George sleepily stood in her place. He bid Tayce a goodnight, murmuring something about wanting to stay on the call until he fell asleep. It confused Tayce how he managed to be so openly loving. He never hesitated to bear his full emotions to Tayce. They were yin and yang, one so open and one so private. But they complemented each other so well. Their energies merged in a way Tayce knew was once in a lifetime. He’d struggle to verbalise it but it was like they were soulmates. So easily intertwined that they were permanents in each other’s lives shortly after getting to know each other.

“Goodnight Tayce, see you tomorrow.” A sleepy murmur came from the other end of the line, followed a few minutes later by soft snores. Tayce hung up the call with a warm feeling in his chest.

He stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room, spreading out in a way that reminded him of the comments about how he slept from the interview a few days ago. Every part of him was so deeply intertwined with him, a year ago the thought would have shaken Tayce to his core but it felt like nothing new now. There was still a lot to unpack and communicate in their relationship but it could wait.

That was for future Tayce to deal with. For now, he tried to sleep thinking of the giddy smile that would be on George’s face as he came through the door, snacks and drinks in hand ready for their celebration. Together.

#taywhora #tayce x a'whora #tayce #a'whora #rpdr fanfiction #can't believe i wrote canon compliant omfg #i like it a lot tho

[carewyncromwell]

Now that the Statue Curse has been broken, how's Olivia doing? Did she get freed? How was her reunion with Jacob and Duncan? What's the first thing she's gonna do after being unstonified? Is she gonna help take down R or is she sworn off Vaults because of her trauma? What's her reaction to finding out Duncan died and Jacob was trapped? Since she's still like 15, does this affect the way she and Jacob and Duncan interact because they're both older? How does she like Carey and co?

Heh, well, I admit, I don’t love how Jam City’s written everything to do with the Sunken Vault, so I feel like I’d probably rewrite a lot of it, depending on how year 6 ends. At this rate, I’m just tempted to make the Good!Rakepick AU my canon and be done with it. If I could just finish it already... >>;

To answer your questions in the event of the Statue Curse being broken and Olivia being freed, though...one thing I will say is that I’d want the Statue Curse being broken to basically be at the end of the story. If we have to deal with the remnants of R, fine, but I’d want the Cursed Vaults and their “treasure” to be completely dealt with. Not going into spoilers about how I want the Cetus to be defeated in that AU (for those of you who are still waiting for the finale -- I’m so sorrryyyyyyy DX), this is how I’d see things --

Upon waking up, Olivia was definitely very shaken when she first saw Jacob again, looking a good four years older than she’d last seen him. Duncan being a ghost was even more of a shock, but finding out exactly how much time had really passed was the most devastating. Olivia, who Duncan and Jacob had always known as this very unassuming, level-headed person, burst full-on into tears, screaming in grief and horror, and had trouble letting anyone get near her. Like Jacob and Duncan, her tragic fate played off of her own worst fear -- Jacob’s fear of tight spaces and being unable to move was reflected in being trapped in a Portrait, Duncan’s fear of being insignificant was reflected in dying young before he’d really accomplished anything, and Olivia’s fear of being irrelevant was reflected in her being “left behind” by all of her classmates and even her own younger siblings, who’d all outgrown her. Jacob, who’s never been as empathetic and nurturing as his sister Carewyn, had no idea how to comfort Olivia, and so all he could do was grab her and forcefully squeeze her in his shaking arms until she stopped crying, apologizing over and over through his own flood of tears. Duncan, since he couldn’t touch Olivia that well at all, merely hovered over the two, resting his cold, translucent hands just over their heads. 

Because of the defeat of R and Duncan both playing a role in ending the threat of the Cursed Vaults once and for all and in having people who would mourn him when he was gone (Jacob, Olivia, and Carewyn), Duncan was finally able to pass on and rest in peace. Jacob burst into tears, devastated at the thought of losing Duncan all over again, and his boy best friend used all of the focus he could to become just corporeal enough to bring a hand up to Jacob’s face and kiss him on the lips before disappearing. With a bittersweet smirk, he instructed Olivia, Jacob, and Carewyn to “take their dear sweet time in joining him, or else!” Carewyn and Olivia hugged the sobbing, shaking Jacob for almost a half-hour after Duncan vanished, both crying silently themselves. 

Olivia’s return to her family was rocky. Her parents, who had never stopped grieving her absence, were just grateful to have her back, but Olivia’s younger siblings -- now all significantly older than her and in some cases even having started families of their own -- couldn’t help but resent her for her risky behavior with the Vaults having put their family through so much heartache and trouble. Plus, since they were Muggles and she was the only magical child in the family, there’d already been a tension point of her being the “special” sibling in contrast to the others, and her return only brought that back in full-force. Olivia’s family relationship never really recovered, even if her parents still clearly loved her, and once Olivia came of age, she moved out and sort of fell out of touch with her siblings all together. 

After going through a lot of therapy over the summer, Olivia returns to Hogwarts for her sixth year, one year under Jacob’s sister Carewyn, who of course is in her seventh year and Hogwarts’s new Head Girl. She ends up making good friends with Carewyn’s Ravenclaw friends Badeea Ali and Talbott Winger, as well as fellow Prefect and family black sheep Percy Weasley. Andre also helps poor Olivia a bit with her outdated 70′s fashion sense, because GIRL, we’ve started a new decade, get with the times. Olivia also stays in constant written contact with Jacob, who remains her best friend for the rest of their lives. Fortunately, even if she is still 16 and Jacob’s now 20, Olivia’s always been rather emotionally mature for her age and Jacob’s always been rather immature for his, so they’re still relatively like peers despite the age difference (not unlike how Carewyn and Bill are, actually!), and as the years go on, that age gap isn’t as significant. Olivia fortunately doesn’t have to deal with the Vaults anymore, and she most certainly doesn’t want to deal with either them or R ever again. Her trauma of being locked in the Statue Vault for so long makes it so she has just as little interest in cursebreaking for the rest of her life as Carewyn has, and even less interest in jumping into danger or fighting Dark wizards. Olivia also becomes rather fond of Carewyn, seeing her like a little sister even though Carey’s techically now a year older than her -- Carewyn herself, seeing a lot of similarities between Olivia and her mother Lane, grows to care for Olivia quite a bit too and keeps correspondence with her post-Hogwarts.

Olivia starts her seventh year the year Harry Potter starts his first, after having been chosen as Head Girl. She was one of the first students who sensed there was something “off” about the newly returned Professor Quirrell and discussed it with Snape, who she could tell was also suspicious, and Dumbledore, who rather predictably gave a lukewarm reaction to her concerns despite his own suspicions. When Hermione first came back up from the third floor corridor with the injured Ron to get help, she actually ran into Olivia first, who had taken on night patrol as Head Girl upon catching wind that Dumbledore had left Hogwarts on business. (Hey, after dealing with the Cursed Vaults and R, this girl had more than enough reason to think something bad might happen the instant Dumbledore wasn’t around.) Olivia rushed Hermione and Ron to the Hospital Wing while Hermione anxiously told her everything, only for the two to run into Dumbledore, who’d just returned to the school. Hermione tried to babble everything to Dumbledore too, including her misguided thought that Snape was behind it all, but Olivia had quickly put two-and-two together that it was Quirrell instead and calmly but firmly talked over Hermione, telling Dumbledore very shortly that “Potter has gone off alone to protect the Stone” so that the Headmaster could quickly rush to Harry’s aid. Olivia then brought Ron to the Hospital Wing and escorted Hermione back up to Gryffindor Tower, counseling the poor, terrified girl as best she could on their way back upstairs. Dumbledore later followed up with Hermione and Olivia after Harry was safe, and Olivia sent a letter along to Carewyn about the incident, since she knew Carewyn’s best friend was Ron’s eldest brother.

#ask me #olivia green #hphm #hogwarts mystery #jacob cromwell #jacob #carewyn cromwell #duncan ashe #albus dumbledore #severus snape #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #quirinus quirrell #badeea ali #talbott winger #percy weasley

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Writer's Month 2020

Day 31: There was only one bed

I made it! This is the last story for the month. I'm glad I tried the challenge.

This one is long. It's something I've been playing around with for a while. There's a teeny bit of romantic action between the two dudes. ❤️❤️❤️

I should add that the Iggy anecdotes are things that I've read in bio books, or things he's said in interviews.

Forgot to say earlier: thanks @ledbythreads for the sanity check on this. 😁❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They faced each other on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. They were both naked and hot after what had just transpired with Alice, and as neither of them was especially modest, neither of them thought much about it.

"Did you see how Alice made her way to the bathroom? Could barely walk!" Iggy laughed his unnerving cackle. "I've never seen a groupie look so ecstatic when we walked back here. Like she'd just won the fucking lottery."

"Not so loud, Ig! This isn't the bloody locker room." Robert's admonition came in a harsh whisper. "But I am proud of my work. Always am." Robert swept his damp curls out of his face and a beamed with a big Cheshire grin.

"She should be proud of her work, too… Would've sucked my soul out, if I had one to spare." Iggy rolled his eyes backward and opened his mouth wide in an exaggerated dramatization of his climax moments before. "Thanks for inviting me back here with her. Real nice of you to share."

Robert laughed at Iggy's joking, rubber face, but the hilarity faded when he noticed how genuine Iggy's gratitude was, and how intently he was paying attention to Robert all of a sudden. There was still amusement in Iggy's eyes, but Robert swore he saw flirtation in the pouty set of Iggy's lips. He realized he found it hard to take his eyes off the devilish little dynamo at the other side of the bed. That bastard always knew how to court attention, Robert thought, having read about Stooges shows and hearing wild word-of-mouth stories from groupies he and Iggy had in common. Guerrilla tactics, on and off the stage. A pint-sized, silver-haired man-child with a heart full of napalm.

Alice emerged from the bathroom after washing up and threw on her dress. She crawled between Robert and Iggy to kiss them both before leaving to fetch her best friend Fran from the party in Bonzo's room.

Robert lay on his back with his hands behind his head. If Fran was anything like Alice, a breather was in order before round two.

Robert sighed and glanced at Iggy, who was reclining on his side. "How does it feel to be in the big leagues? Raw Power is one hell of a record, mate." After all of Robert's chattering that night about the success of Houses of the Holy, he instantly regretted how arrogant his comment must've sounded to Iggy, who had been making music for roughly as long as Led Zeppelin had been. "Sorry," Robert interjected. "What I, uh, mean to say, Ig--"

"No, I get it, Percy." Iggy saw how much the nickname irked Robert when Bonzo spoke it and decided to twist the knife in Robert a bit.

Iggy had no poker face to speak of. Robert could see the American's thoughts slowly formulating through the movement of his big, blue cartoon eyes. Barely controlled rage pivoting to wily thoughtfulness with whiplash speed. Iggy seemed very lucid tonight, which surprised Robert, who had heard horror stories about Iggy's junkie tendencies through the grapevine. He was getting a sense that an alert Iggy was the truly dangerous Iggy.

Robert didn't know whether he would be scorched by what Iggy was going to say, or if he would be impressed by Iggy stopping himself from leveling a vicious retort. Iggy was not unlike Maureen, Robert thought--petite and fiery. And cute. Iggy's energy was vaguely familiar. The thought surprised Robert but also made him smile.

"We had to get dropped before we could perform the fucking album more than once, but yeah, we are getting bigger audiences now, thanks to Bowie's aura around the project. But we've always had a tight, rabid group of fans who really get it. The money isn't much, since the label tossed us out on our asses, but there are a few more people in the audience to catch me."

"You're a lunatic, with that stage diving." Robert caught himself breathing a sigh of relief. Iggy was reflective. Not in the mood to spar verbally.

"What? Too afraid to bust up your pretty face, Perce?"

Robert inhaled with irritation. His face flushed. He couldn't pinpoint why Iggy was getting under his skin. He'd been treated worse by the press. Much worse.

"I just don't have it in me," Robert finally said. "Plus, I'm bigger than you, and I think I could hurt someone. Or, I might come back to the stage naked, once all the birds get their hands on me."

"You'd love it. Admit it, man."

"Maybe I would, Iggy… But I'll leave you to it."

In the silent pause, Iggy swept his gaze over Robert's face again. Iggy admired the masculine set of Robert's jawline, at odds with his feline eyes and the curlicued cloud of his hair. Robert was more attractive than The Stooges' cutest roadies, and Iggy adored his roadies. Robert was a finely sculpted man who seduced everyone with very subtle androgyny. Robert's pretty hippie god look was a far cry from Iggy's battle-scarred demon persona of eyeliner and dark lips. Nevertheless, Iggy reveled in all the boys and girls wanting him. He loved blurring the lines of the expected. It was his ace, shoving people off kilter with his performance. If he straddled a man's lap and sang in his face, or kissed an unexpecting girl in the audience, all eyes would be on him. Hate or love his performance, they would be telling all their friends about it. It never failed.

By the way Robert looked at him, Iggy knew that even Robert found him to be an intriguing novelty. He smirked at the larger man, who smiled at Iggy quizzically.

Iggy wondered if Robert knew what he was doing with his look. But Robert was a god to his fans and had nothing to explain or prove to anyone.

Iggy couldn't lie to himself; he wasn't on that level. He was the sideshow for a loud, primitive band that always performed at the brink of chaos. He would be the scrappy little underdog until the day he died. Nothing came easy. He had to do the dirty work to get what he wanted.

Iggy watched Robert's chest rise and fall with his breath and imagined that it felt just as solid as Iggy's own musculature. Robert was a total package, just like Iggy had heard. Beautiful inside as much as outside. Iggy remembered the dreamy look in Sable's eyes when he saw her on the street and mentioned he'd be coming to the Riot House, as they called it. She'd asked Iggy to say hi to Robert for her. She was on to the next thing, only had eyes for Johnny Thunders these days.

Iggy started to wonder if Robert was someone he wanted, if Robert himself might be interested in exploring that kind of connection. Iggy was not turned off by the idea, no matter how much he protested about any hint of interest in men to anyone who'd listen. But he knew he'd have to be the one to make it happen with Robert. And that was always something he wrestled with.

David and Lou had no qualms about men, but Iggy hadn't truly shaken free from Midwestern ethics. It was like the time Iggy lived with Leee. It was two boys who grew up far from the coasts of America who couldn't act on their feelings, even when Iggy's robe was open and his large cock was on display. Leee was into boys, but as much as Iggy tried to entice him, nothing ever came of it. Iggy couldn't bring himself to go for Leee. Neither man ever spoke about it. Iggy had been paralyzed by his thoughts. Lee? Maybe he just wasn't sure if Iggy was sure. Iggy had broken free from society in many ways, but not this one. He sighed in frustration.

Robert noticed that Iggy's mood had shifted again, that he was lost in his thoughts, and not happy thoughts, it seemed. For all of Iggy's maniacal bravado, Robert realized that his fellow front man wasn't a savage to the core. It put Iggy in a new light in Robert's eyes.

Not that it made Robert think Iggy was delicate or weak. The ripples and etchings of wiry muscles on Iggy's body proved how strong he was, as did how he had clawed his way to a new record deal after his band had been left for dead a few years before.

Robert and Iggy weren't friends, having just met that night, but they sat by the balcony in the Hyatt suite and had a nice, long conversation over drinks, joints, and stories of the stage.

Iggy, Robert was pleased to find out, had more layers than the press ever attributed to him. Iggy was as well read as Robert and had even broader music taste than his British counterpart. It was refreshing for Robert to have a lively artistic conversation with someone who wasn't Jimmy.

Something was shifting between Robert and Iggy. Robert kind of hoped that Alice and Fran would be delayed for a while, even though he was unsure of how he wanted to fill that time with Iggy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ig."

"Oh…" Iggy swallowed and blinked his eyes. He'd been caught. What the hell, he thought.

"Uh, Robert …"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever… Done anything with a guy?"

"Haven't had the pleasure, Iggy. You?"

"Closest I've come, I told this creep he could lick my stomach when he asked to suck my dick. And some boys in San Francisco? They, uh, have a fan club for me. Met with them a few times. Touchy-feely motherfuckers. I don't go to sleep around them."

Iggy seemed somewhat ashamed. Robert could understand. Jonesy was convinced that Robert was too provincial, too old fashioned to accept or even acknowledge the male attention he garnered. Maybe the Midlands and Midwest weren't all that different, Robert mused. Iggy may have had more exposure to men who wanted him, but he seemed just as uncomfortable with that kind of attention.

But Robert guessed Iggy, too, was willing to bend the rules a little tonight. Good company and good drugs would do that to anyone.

Both men were lost in their thoughts. The silence was painful. It had become a game of chicken.

"Aw, fuck this." Iggy broke first. He scooted closer to Robert, rested a hand on the larger man's shoulder, and pressed his lips to Robert's. For a few tense seconds it was like both notoriously sexy men forgot how to kiss. Iggy additionally feared getting tossed from the bed by Robert. But then, everything clicked. It was like the first number of an electrifying concert. Both men knew the rush that came from singing the first few bars of a song, the sweet release of all the nervous energy that built while the band played the intro, and the passion that must be doled out with the first notes to hook the audience's attention for the night. Their kiss was exactly the same.

Robert nestled a hand on Iggy's back. Iggy's tongue was exquisitely adventurous. But not aggressive. It was the exact opposite of Iggy's stage persona: tender and unhurried. It was as good as any groupie Robert had ever encountered. Robert got the feeling that Iggy had a surprising number of facets that most would never see. Robert felt honored to get a true glimpse of the man.

Iggy glided his hand into Robert's curls. The American was enjoying himself. He realized it was no big deal after all. He briefly thought of telling David afterward, to see the surprise and envy on his face. Robert. Fucking. Plant! But Iggy would never tell a soul, out of respect for Robert and this moment. And he knew Robert wouldn't breathe a word of it, either.

Robert caressed Iggy's back, causing the smaller man to purr contentedly. The taste of Robert's tongue was the taste of freedom that he'd always craved.

The door opened, and Alice and Fran barged in. Iggy and Robert continued kissing. They'd surprised themselves by not jerking away from each other.

"Oh, my God, that's so hot!" The men heard a new voice. Fran. "They couldn't even wait for us!"

The two women took the scene as their cue and climbed on the bed, choosing a man to play with, separating the embrace.

Robert winked at Iggy, and Iggy nodded his head in response. It was fun while it lasted.

#robert plant #Iggy pop #classic rock #writersmonth2020

[ginny-chase-shadeslayer]

Sleeping at Last - Saturn

I think it was a few months ago in calc class when I first came up with this, but it’s the corona house arrest that’s finally making me post it. 

Stay safe everyone, and have some more Percy angst.

Find it on FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13517771/1/Sleeping-at-Last

“I’d give anything to hear, you say it one more time, that the universe was made, just to be seen by my eyes”

________________________________________________________________

He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the darkness reminded him of that pit and the pain of having to live through it. Sometimes Annabeth’s presence next to him helped, but tonight, she wasn’t with him. The sad truth was that as much as they helped each other heal their wounds, they also reminded each other of what they had been through. For the better part of eight days now, Percy was faced with the heartbreaking pain of choosing between seeing her and either being comforted or being triggered into a panic attack.

As much as he loved her, it hurt to be around her. He was being unfair he knew, expecting her to be the same as before, when he himself was only a shell of a man. But watching Annabeth shiver or snip and snarl at everything, only pushed him deeper still.

The argument that had resulted from that was vicious, and had left more than just the participants shaken.

Sitting up after an unsuccessful attempt at sleeping, he got out of bed and reached for Riptide. The weight of his loyal blade grounded him, pulling him towards the arenas.

…

THWACK!

There rolled the head, cleanly sliced off from the body.

Another strike. There were the disemboweled guts of a straw man.

It wasn’t enough. No matter how much he stabbed and slashed, it never helped abate the darkness. Riptide would cut through the clouds for a second, a shining streak of bronze. But then they would gather back faster than before.

It wasn’t long until Percy was panting, harder than he should have been. Taking shorter breaths than he should have been.

He tried blinking back the images. But the arena began to transform. He attacked a dummy viciously, face screwing up in determination, trying to fight back, but in vain.

Akhlys was laughing. Annabeth was crying his name. Bob was yelling for him, while Damasen tried to pull his sword out of the dragon’s mouth.

And Percy? He was on the floor. Staring at them from behind an impenetrable curtain. It took him some time to realize he was under water. He was looking at them from the bottom of a lake. He pounded the surface, trying desperately to break free. Even under water, he could taste the sulphurous air on his tongue as it burned his mouth, along with something more metallic. Every breath he took his poisoned his lungs, as if the water itself had turned into acid.

He heard Akhlys whispering as if she were next to him, “You killed me using your father’s powers. Here. See if they protect you now.”

His lungs began to fill. He was drowning. No, he couldn’t drown, he was the son of Poseidon. He choked and sputtered. But that only made it worse.

In front of him, Annabeth had gone blind again, and was desperately trying to call out to him through horrible coughing fits. She had her back turned to Damasen, and through his fading view, Percy saw Damasen yank his sword out from the Dragon and raise it against Annabeth.

Percy fought like a demon against the water then. He tried to control his breathing, but the water wouldn’t let go of him. He had to get to Annabeth. He had to. He swung his sword left and right, trying to fight the element that had protected him all his life. His eyes streamed, and he cried his voice hoarse. He swung his sword with all his might against the water –

CLANG!

His sword hit metal. But he couldn’t see where it came from.

The scene in front of him stilled. Annabeth had her face away from him, and Damasen still had his sword raised, so he hadn’t stabbed her yet.

A low voice from somewhere near him said, “Percy, snap out of it. It’s not real”

Slowly, the mist from his eyes cleared, and he realized he was on his haunches. His throat was raw. Riptide was still gripped under his white knuckles, as if the blade could cure his visions.

“Get up.” She ordered him. She didn’t hold out a hand, so Percy braced himself against the ground and heaved himself to a standing position. He regarded her cautiously, still trying to figure out if she was real or not.

“Do you still have the energy to fight? Because we need those dummies for practice tomorrow.”

Percy was weak, he needed a good night’s rest. His face still stung under the tear tracks. He wiped his nose, and glimpsed a streak of red on the blue of his shirt.

He nodded.

Clarisse raised her sword and swung at him.

Percy parried the strike, and his senses sharpened. He experimentally stabbed at her stomach. She easily dodged that, and returned with a blow of her own.

Slowly, they picked up the pace. Percy went from autopilot to actually focusing on the fight. He noticed that in the time he had been missing, Clarisse had gotten better at the sword. Or he had gotten worse.

He also noticed that Clarisse wasn’t really trying to fight him exactly. It was more like…leading him somewhere. He saw some mistakes in his technique that she could have taken advantage of, but she still let him move to the next position without taking the chance. Almost as if she were listening to him, to what his sword had to say, to what his tired body had to say. He had never heard of swordplay that was meant to be caring, and least of all, he didn’t expect Clarisse to know it.

He let his body go, slowly, but surely. Getting into the flow of their blades. They picked up the pace further, but that only calmed him more. This was sword fighting, it was something he knew. He was in control. In that moment, he was a blur of bronze, pouring his frustrations out into his weapon.

And Clarisse let him. In that moment, he had never felt so rested.

But when the deadly dance took him towards the armoury, a draught of wind transported the smell of gun powder, and with it, Sulphur. His eyes darted to the torchlight bouncing off her sword, flickering against the beams and columns, creating shadows that hadn’t been there a second before.

This time, there was nothing he could do. His mental shields had been down, and he had been too focused on Clarisse to notice the signs. The visions were brutal, as they were every time he thought he had finally evaded them.

He crumpled.

…

He found himself near the stairs of the arena, sitting up with his back propped against a pillar. He didn’t remember what he had seen this time, and he definitely didn’t remember losing consciousness.

“It’s going to take some time”

He was surprised to see Clarisse still there. She was sitting on the stairs next to him.

“What?”

“Your blackouts, your hallucinations. It’s going to take some time to get better.”

He stayed silent. Not ready to talk yet. Not ready to accept that he was not getting better, despite Chiron’s healing and Grover’s magic.

As if reading his mind, “Chiron’s ambrosia only works temporarily, and only on the physical pain you feel. Unfortunately, the Greeks either never thought about healing the head, or they never lived long enough to experience PTSD.”

“How do you know so much about this?” he asked, curious.

He had never expected Clarisse of all people to be sympathetic to trauma, especially not like the one he was experiencing. But if he was being honest with himself, he was grateful for her presence. Her familiar scowl surprisingly reminded him of life before Tartarus, and it comforted him. And he didn’t think he was ready to be alone just yet.

Clarisse just sighed. “Ares is the god of war, right? You want to go conquer a land, fight a battle, you make sacrifices to Ares and hope he favors you enough to let you win. At least that’s only how the Greek civilization chose to see Ares, and it stuck.”

She paused.

“But over the years, Ares has come to represent all battles, all wars.”

She looked at him knowingly, “including internal ones.”

They were quiet after that, watching the sun rise over the Long Island Sound. ‘It makes sense’, thought Percy. Although he berated himself for letting his guard down, he had to admit that dueling with her had felt good. Better than he had felt in a long time.

Finally, he asked, “that sword fighting technique, where’d you learn that?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t have to learn anything, punk. I’m a daughter of Ares, sword fighting techniques are instinct to me.”

He smiled lightly and conceded. Understood.

The dew on the strawberry fields glittered in the morning light. The Apollo cabin, naturally the first to wake up, began to stir, while the dryads in the forest softly greeted the earliest songbirds. Watching the life below him, he felt like he should have had some poetic internal dialogue about permanence and the transience of life. Or at least some epiphany prompted by the sun’s rays through the clouds.

But in that moment, he simply reveled in the fact that there were beautiful things still left in the world, outside his head. Like the tugging of his heart at the sight of a familiar blonde head that emerged from the cabins below, and the warmth of a friendship, reaching out from the person seated next to him.

________________________________________________________________

“How rare and beautiful it is, that we exist”

The title of this fic is from the song Saturn, by artist Sleeping at Last. They’re amazing you guys should go check it out if you haven’t already! 

Also, I haven’t personally dealt with PTSD, but I know that different people deal with / experience it in different ways. Nothing I’ve written here is meant to be harmful in any way.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy #clarisse #annabeth #this is only my second post don't kill me #sleeping at last #saturn #fanfiction

[kadmeread]

Not Over Yet - Chapter 2: Explanations

Chapter 2: Explanations 

I was shaken out of my reverie by a knock on the door. After opening it, I saw the girl who had brought me here standing there. 

“Hello,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Samirah, you can call me Sam, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Taking her hand I said “Hi, I’m Jason Grace. I take it your my Valkyrie.” She looked surprised at my guess so I presumed I was correct and that she was indeed my Valkyrie, whatever that was.

“How much do you know?” she asked.

“Not much,” I admitted. “Magnus gave me a rundown on my hallmates and told me the basics. I must admit I didn’t expect to end up here.” She glanced down at my tattoo, reminding me of Magnus’ reaction to it earlier. I moved my hand to cover it subconsciously.

“You deserve to be here Jason, I am proud to be your Valkyrie.” She told me as we continued on towards what I guessed was the dining hall. I nodded uncomfortably, wondering how much she knew.

As we walked Sam told me various other facts about Valhalla. I made sure to try and memorise them as I had found it better to always be prepared. I never knew how Percy could stand it, not knowing anything until someone told him about it. I would say it was a Roman thing except Annabeth is the same way, and she’s about as un-Roman as you can get. 

Sam was looking impressed by my comments. “You’re taking this well,” she said. 

“Yeah, well, with the way my life has been going recently, the fact that the Norse gods exist and I’m in Valhalla isn’t actually all that surprising.”

She looked like she was about to question me on that, when we reached the dining hall and I wouldn’t have heard her anyway.

The dining hall was impressive, it reminded me of Olympus. Except it didn’t have Annabeth’s architectural flare. “Wow,” I murmured.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “It doesn’t ever really get old. There’s our table over there.” She pointed to a table with two other people already sitting there. “Good thing we’re not the only ones.” She muttered as we sat down. I wanted to ask about that but she obviously didn’t intend for me to hear it, so I decided not to pry.

“So…” I started awkwardly, “Magnus mentioned something earlier about me getting the hall to myself soon? Are they all going away somewhere or something?”

Her expression darkened, “Or something,” She repeated. “You see we have to stop my father from launching Naflgar and starting Ragnorak.”

I had a million questions going through my head after that, but I decided to start with a simple one. “Your father?”

She nodded, “My father. Loki.”

Before I could work out what to ask next, the doors opened with a boom and hundreds of warriors streamed in. I was very grateful that we had entered earlier and avoided the rush. I saw Magnus wave at me as he came in with whom I presumed to be the rest of our hallmates.

A girl came around and gave me some meat and what I guessed to be mead from the smell. Sam saw me looking around and got my attention. 

“Eat now,” She recommended. “After we get to watch you die gloriously.”

The idea of reliving my death slowed my appetite a bit, I don’t think anyone would be all too keen on that idea. Yet I did still look forward to it, if I was lucky I would find out what happened to my friends, find out if they survived.

As the meal ended my anticipation and anxiety only grew, warring for the place of pride in my stomach. First we watched the other guy die heroically, gun in hand, saving two strangers, and heard he was destined to fight well during Ragnarok. Then it was my turn. It felt odd seeing it happen again. I watched as Apollo stabbed himself and I blew Meg out the side. The others in the hall were silent, they hadn’t been for the other guy, so I distantly felt that was odd, but didn’t pay much attention to it, I was too busy watching what was happening. I saw myself take arrow wounds, I hadn’t even noticed that I got shot. I winced as I turned to Apollo, I knew what was coming, I reminded him of his promise and then I saw Caligula stab me in the back. I heard Piper’s scream of grief, and knew that even if we weren’t together she still loved me. We were a team, her and I. The last thing I saw before the video faded away, was Tempest running across the water, my friends on his back. I smiled, relieved to know that my death hadn’t been in vain, and that they had all gotten out of there safely.

There was silence for a moment before the hall exploded into whispers. If I tried to listen, I could hear them saying things like “Thor”, and “powers”. I figured they probably thought me to be a son of Thor. Suddenly they all stopped talking. On a throne that had been empty before except for two large ravens (which had been watching me throughout, they gave me the creeps) appeared a huge figure of a man. What I first noticed about him was that he only had one eye. Then I noticed that the murmurs had started up again, this time with “Odin” and “Allfather” interspersed with the ones about me.

“It is good to see you again my friends.” He boomed, looking around at us all. “But unfortunately I come to you in dire times. Sitting before you is a warrior, who we will have need of before long. I sent Samirah to get him, before he left to places not under my jurisdiction, for a reason. I hope you will forgive me.” He looked directly at me as he said this. “That reason being, the Pontifex Maximus may save us all. And so I humbly ask, you Jason Grace, if you will help us on this quest, or will you depart to be judged worthy of Elysium, as my counterpart has informed me you would’ve been placed. Without your help, I have foreseen that Ragnarok will come. And so, son of Jupiter, will you help us stop Ragnarok?”

The hall was silent except for the whispers of the warriors, that was becoming a common reaction for anything to do with me. I sighed, considering. I had just died helping out with a save the world quest, I would have liked to have a break. But I knew what my answer would be, what any demigod’s answer would be. “Yes,” I said. “I will help.” As cheers rang around the hall, I had an inkling that I had agreed to something bigger than what I had originally thought.

The next time I looked up I notice Magnus leading who I guessed were to be my new questmates over. As he introduced us, he eyed me oddly when I didn’t appear to be paying attention, I wanted to ask but I knew then wasn’t the time. I asked a different question instead. “So when do we set off?”

“We’re setting sail in the morning, unless something else goes wrong.” The guy who I now knew was T.J replied, looking accusingly at Magnus.

“Hey!” Magnus protested, “I actually got some good advice from Percy today!”

“Yeah,” Alex chimed in smugly. “He didn’t die today.”

While Magnus continued complaining about their lack of belief in him, I suddenly felt dizzy. Percy...Percy and Annabeth had been in Boston this weekend, helping her cousin, I think, prepare for some sort of cruise. I hadn’t gotten the full details because of the communication block and the Apollo situation, but Apollo had told us that, along with the information about Percy’s baby sister. Magnus must be Annabeth’s cousin, that was why he looked vaguely familiar. That would also explain the odd looks he was giving me, he knew. It sounded like Alex probably knew too.

Having realized this, I wasn’t surprised when Magnus and Alex dawdled after everyone had gone back to their rooms. 

“Come on in.” I told them, leading them into my rooms. They followed me in awkwardly. I could tell they had no idea how to broach the subject at hand. 

“So...do Percy and Annabeth know yet?” I asked. They obviously hadn’t worked out that I had worked out that they knew. 

“I don’t think so,” Magnus replied. “They’ve been down here for the weekend, meaning they’ve been even more out of touch with the situation then in New York. They’ll probably find out when they get back. In fact I should probably…” 

He trailed off as Alex interrupted him impatiently, “So where are you in this mess?”

“Me? I’m Roman, son of Jupiter. I was on the quest to Greece with Percy and Annabeth.”

Magnus nodded, “Annabeth mentioned you. You were the one swapped with Percy, right?”

“Yup that was me. So...who exactly knows what?”

Magnus thought it over quickly before replying, “So Alex and I are the only ones who have actually met Percy and Annabeth. Although Sam knows of them and the existence of your pantheons. The others had no idea you even existed, and quite possibly still don’t.”

I thought it over, “I’ll tell the rest of our quest group once we’ve set off, is there anyone else other than our hallmates?”

Magnus looked startled, “Oh, right. My friends Blitz and Hearth, along with Sam as you know. Blitz is a dwarf, very fashionable. Hearth is an elf, he does magic, and he’s deaf.”

I nodded and relaxed from where I had been standing stiffly near the door. “Thanks for letting me know.”

They nodded and then left me to it. I decided to try and get some sleep, who knew when I was going to get some.

Unfortunately, even though I was dead, my demigod dreams didn’t appear to have stopped. While not as bad as Percy’s, (from what I heard he had the worst dreams) they were still fully capable of ruining any sleep I tried to have. First I saw flashes of what must’ve been happening in California, I saw Piper grieving. Apollo speaking prophecies in chains, Piper killing Medea, Leo flying in one Festus, and then hugging Piper as she cried. Meg and Apollo boarding a plane, a coffin sitting in the plane, which I knew with a chill of certainty held my dead body. 

Then the scenes slowed down and changed again, I was on what I guessed to be a Viking ship, made of what looked to be people’s finger and toenails. The ship was surrounded by ice, I saw mummified human bodies and giants which thankfully looked very different from those I had fought before.

“Oh look,” said a cheerful voice behind me, I jumped, turning to see who was speaking. “It’s Odin’s secret weapon. Not so secret now, are you boy?” 

The guy’s face was horrific, burned and scarred. As I studied him, he continued, his face softening. “Here’s a warning for you little demigod. Don’t get in my way, you may have defeated giants. But I can promise you this, I am like nothing you have ever faced before. You will not be able to escape me. Run, little son of Jupiter, and you may just survive the storm to come. This isn’t your Pantheon, little Pontifex Maximus, and if you continue on this path of interference,” 

His face darkened, and it struck me that he was quite mad. That didn’t reassure me, I was killed by a madman after all. “I can promise you this, you will never see your friends again.” I could sense someone shaking me, as the dream receded I could hear the guy laughing. “Welcome to the end, little boy, your father may be king, but I was born to destroy kings.” As the dream faded away, he met my horrified gaze, “Enjoy your afterlife.” His laughter followed me as I woke up.

A.N So that was the next chapter! I should probably explain the timeline to you guys. So I have The Hidden Oracle happening at the same time as the Sword of Summer, leading Hammer of Thor to be about the same time as The Dark Prophecy. I have placed Jason’s death in The Burning Maze, at about the same time as Percy and Annabeth leaving Boston in the Ship of the Dead, thus they haven’t heard yet of Jason’s death and that Nico can’t find him in the Underworld. Once they do, Annabeth will obviously try and contact Magnus, but due to him being on a quest, she won’t be able to until after they get back. I hope that makes sense. 

Please let me know any ideas, errors etc. 

Thanks Kadme.

#magnus chase and the gods of asgard #not over yet #trials of apollo #jason grace #jason lives (sort of) #magnus chase #chapter 2 #explanations

[maevesathenians]

curses ･ﾟ✧ | pjo

[ percabeth au : calypso’s curse still has its side effects even after tartarus. annabeth’s blinded unexpectedly and percy is there to comfort her ]

i saw this idea on instagram but i really wanted to make a one shot of it cause it hurt me a lot to even think about :( and forgive me im still getting use to this app. and my writing sucks but i like writing anyway.

-

Tartarus.

The word itself causes Annabeth’s whole world to crash down. It isn’t just the fear of rememberence when it comes to its horrors, it’s fearing she’d be back down there again and that being back home wasn’t even real. Ever since coming back from tartarus, Percy and her have grown undeniably close. It isn’t like she hasn’t been this close to him before, it just feels different this time. Like, without him, she’d feel every single sting or penetration the Underworld had to offer her and she would just end up .... drowning.

Percy was like her, too. Fearful, traumatized, needy for someone’s presence. He, in all seriousness, never felt so much heartache whenever Annabeth wasn’t around. He didn’t feel right, he felt empty. It caused him panic and caused him to overthink about everything. He, himself, has changed. He isn’t the same playful, persistent, strong guy everyone told him we was anymore. He was serious, in his head a lot. He couldn’t fix what damaged him in the first place, so why try anyway? It’s true when people say ‘it’ll all come back to bite you in the ass’. When leaving tartarus, he didn’t look back once. He thought he escaped the impossible, him AND Annabeth together. But things just don’t stay gone. Not Annabeth’s curse, anyway.

It was dinner, the dining pavilion was buzzing as hurds of demigods entered to get there food. When it came to breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it was the hardest to separate the two demigods. Annabeth’s half brother, Malcom, would gently grab Annabeth’s hand and lead her to the Athena table where her half-siblings gathered to greet her. She would shake her head, pouting as she got farther away from Percy, but she didn’t shout or pull away. Percy would only stare as she sat down with a tray already in front of her. He didn’t like eating without her, or doing anything without her, but he understood. The son of Apollo, Will, was recommended to guide Percy to his table where no one awaited his arrival.

Dinner was quiet, the buzzing slowly dying as soon as the two demigods entered the room. He didn’t like the fact that so many people talked and assumed, but what could he do?

Annabeth felt flustered the first couple of minutes surrounded by her half-siblings, them passing around food and attempting to make her smile even just a bit. She felt guilty, horrible for having to stay guarded even surrounded by family. She couldn’t help it. The next couple of minutes went by and Annabeth began to feel her eyes drooping. Only, it wasn’t possible considering the amount of sleep she’s gotten the past three days. The drooping sensation got worse, her vision becoming blurry and blurry each second she tried to blink away the tiredness. Each time she blinked, she’d only see black. She’d see nothing.

“No. N-No, why can’t I see?” Annabeth whispered, her anxiety growing more and more. She rubbed her eyes harshly, feeling as if her eyes were about to fall out her sockets. She rubbed and blinked rapidly, only the pitch black abyss in her eyes wouldn’t go away. She began to hyperventilate, her lungs closing up as she gasped her air. She was in panic.

“Annabeth? ANNABETH? oh my gods, SOMEONE COME QUICK!” Malcom screamed, the worry and panic evident as he took a lungful of air to shout out more cries for help. Annabeth couldn’t see, just like she couldn’t see nothing but darkness down in the Underworld. That’s when everything made sense. It was never gone, her torment wasn’t ever gonna go away. Not now. She screamed bloody murder, her heart racing as he felt hands grab onto her. She tried to shove them off, but there was too many.

“SHE CAN’T BREATHE! SOMEONE HELP!”

“WHAT’S HAPPENING?”

“PLEASE, SOMEONE COME QUICK!”

Annabeth cried out, tears pouring down her cheeks. She needed Percy. Someone get her Percy.

In a flash, she felt warm hands cup her cheeks. she held onto them for dear life, praying it was her Seaweed Brain.

“What’s wrong with her? Is she okay?”

“Percy, what is this?” The questions kept coming, shouts of confusion and worry thrown left and right. Percy couldn’t bother to listen to them, instead focusing on the most important.

“Annabeth? Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s Percy, okay? You’re okay. Tell me what happened.” He asked as gently as he could, reassuring her he was there with her. She gasped for air, her breathing hard and heavy. He placed her hand on his chest, the beating of his heartbeat soothing her. Her cries continued as she attempted to talk, “P-Percy, I-I can’t s-see. I can’t s-see. Why can’t I s-see?” she cried, the salty tears running down profusely.

“ She can’t see? What does she mean?”

“What in Hades? Percy, what does she mean?”

Percy ignored them, immediately gripping Annabeth in a tight hug. She buried her head into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut. She grabbed a fistful of his tee and shook violently. Percy whispered softly, “Shh, shh ... relax. Breathe, Annabeth, breathe. We’re fine. We’re out, I promise you.”

A sob ripped from her chest as she prayed to every god listening to her weep to get rid of this horrible curse. She wrapped her arms around Percy’s waist and squeezed. Percy’s heart constricted at the sight of her. He wishes more than anything to get rid of her pain, to take her suffering and transfer it to him. He should have taken that bullet, it was his curse. He kissed her head, then her temple, and finally her eyelids.

Chiron decided to send the two demigods down to the infirmary, to check on Annabeth and give Percy some piece of mind. He never let her out of his sight, either gripping her hand or wrapping his arms protectively around her shoulders. Annabeth was still shaken up by the time her vision came back. She felt helpless and embarrassed for causing a scene, but she’s not afraid to admit she was terrified. Losing her sight was a sickening feeling down in tartarus and up here, too. She couldn’t imagine how terrifying it must be to not see in battle, to not see the people you care for. Annabeth looked up at her boyfriend, his eyes shut and his face relaxed. He had Annabeth in his arms, his back against the headboard. She laid her head on his chest with her back pressed against him. She laid comfortably in his arms, wishing she’d forever stay in the moment without any interruptions. Curse or not, she’ll never be the same. Percy and her, will never be same.

But she has him and he has her. That’s all they need.

#annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth pjo #percabeth #rick riordan #heroes of olympus #jasongrace #pipermclean #leovaldez #athena #poseidon #fandom #fanfic #calypso #hoo

[chicagocityfclanspromoblog]

Emmanuel Flores → Alfonso Herrera → Coyote

→ Basic Information

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Born or Made: Made

Birthday: October 1st

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Religion: Catholic

Like Emmanuel? Consider taking him in our Nimble Giveaway Event! We will be waiving applications para samples, personalities and histories requirements for all canon nimbles. Just send in the first and last name of the nimble(s) you would like to the main.

→ His Personality

Emmanuel has a strong need for control. He cares about what people know about him, how he presents himself, his apartment and his reputation. He built his outward persona from the ground up and knows the value of a good reputation and controlling the narrative. He has a strong and inviting personality that draws people in and gets them to listen. It’s one of his strengths as an anchor and interviewer. Emmanuel is well spoken and has studied all the greats to develop his own personal reporting and interview style. While he is very graceful and eloquent in most situations, when left unchecked or angered Emmanuel can be domineering. He can hold a room captive until he gets his way. And when he doesn’t, or something slides out of his control he can become vindictive and aggressive towards the situation.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Television Broadcast Anchor

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Looking neat and Anderson Cooper

Two Dislikes: Manipulative headlines and Taco Bell

Two Fears: His family being changed and

Two Hobbies: Going to the gym and Writing poetry

Three Positive Traits: Eloquent, Enigmatic, Courageous

Three Negative Traits: Vindictive, Domineering, Controlling

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Maria Flores (Mother): Maria was Emmanuel’s major support system in the beginning of his childhood. She did everything she could so he could have a good childhood. Their relationship was bad when he first came out to her, and it took her getting sick to come around and realize what she was missing without him. Emmanuel took charge with his mother’s illness and was there at every chemo, radiation and doctor’s appointments. They are now incredibly strong and Maria comes over every weekend to catch up with her children and play with her granddaughter.

Luis Gomez (Step-Father): Luis is the father that Robert never was. Though he came into his life too late to be there for him as a child, Luis showed up at nearly every debate team match and stood cheering at both graduations.

Robert Hall (Father): Robert was never in Emmanuel’s life and Emmanuel doesn’t truly consider him to be his father.

Sibling Names:

Ignacio Flores (Brother): Ignacio and Emmanuel have always had a challenging relationship. Ignacio thinks Emmanuel is the reason Robert left, not wanting the responsibility of another mouth to feed. Emmanuel tried to connect over years, but just gave up eventually. The two continue to be tense around one another, but are good enough where Nacio will come around for dinner on weekends.

Juana Gomez (Step-Sister): Emmanuel and Juana were the closest growing up. Only a year apart in school, he kept an eye on her and tried to protect her the best he could. She works in Milwaukee now, as a county clerk, but tries to make it out once a month for the weekend.

Alejandro Gomez (Half-Brother): Alejandro was everyone’s favorite sibling growing up. He was adorable, and had an infectious laugh that broke up most of the fights in the Flores-Gomez household. He’s just now finishing up his Bachelor’s degree in Film and Emmanuel is trying to score him a job at the news station.

Children Names:

Luisa Moreno (Daughter): Emmanuel and Mariela are attempting to raise Luisa together and give her as normal of a life as possible. She is going into first grade this year, and Emmanuel worries what she might hear about her father in school.

Romantic Connections:

Mariela Moreno (Ex-girlfriend): Emmanuel was trying desperately not to be gay for a long time. He joked around, found a pretty girl and tried to imagine his life as that forever. Eventually he broke down and told Mariela. She was understandably shaken and the first few years of Luisa’s life were tense. They had a very honest conversation, both admitting fault, and have come together as friends to try and raise Luisa with a healthy family dynamic.

Platonic Connections:

Jesus Herrara (Best Friend): Jesus has been his best friend since he can remember. They met as kindergarteners and never split up. He was the person Mano was most concerned about finding out about his sexuality, but Jesus barely batted an eye. The only tension came when Jesus asked Mari out on a date. Emmanuel had a hard time briefly, but is now glad he has someone he trusts so much in Mariela and Luisa’s life.

Milton Rod Jackman (Good Friend): Rod is Emmanuel’s investigator. They work together on larger interest pieces, and though he’s a hard-ass, he is incredibly loyal and has been a sense of normalcy for Emmanuel through everything. He’s been a great resource with regards to parenting and has helped Mano avoid bigger mistakes.

Simon Brodeur (Camera man): Emmanuel takes Simon along as his camera man most often, just to get him out of his head. It’s been a few months since his mate died and he just hasn’t been right since. Emmanuel feels for him and tries to cheer him up when he can.

Breha Kaur (Reporter): Breha moved to his show recently and has begun working with himself and Rod on stories. He doesn’t know her as well as the others and wonders if she is a part of that fox group. She is always friendly to him, which he reciprocates though. He thinks she’s a good writer, and would consider getting to know her better.

Ryan Cleirigh (New Acquaintance): Emmanuel approached Ryan about doing a podcast with him. He’s not sure exactly what he’d want to address, but feels he needs to be able to have a platform free of the McCormick empire to do it.

Vincent Kane (Resource): Vincent has been a major resource when it comes to reporting on Supernatural news. He is the most communicative of the Human Shifters and cares about getting the story right and accurate.

Maxine Vanes (Former Resource): Max used to be an excellent resource for any rat information he needed, but he is well aware of the stigma that the rats hold and doesn’t know if trying his luck with Max would destroy that avenue for his show.

Hostile Connections:

Tim Boaz (Hates): Emmanuel always thought of Tim as a good guy with a bad brother, but it was Tim’s name in the byline on the article. Emmanuel hates liars and finds Tim somehow more despicable than his brother.

Lee Boaz (Hates): Lee has always hated him, but he didn’t expect him to go as low as he has with this piece. He never trusted him before and now he wants him out of the pack, or dead.

Percy McCormick (Angry with): He feels that Percy did nothing to help him and has done nothing to discipline the twins. They are causing havoc everywhere and destroying relationships with other packs. He is well aware that he is one of many unhappy with the current nimble Alpha.

Austin Semler (Distrusts): He and Austin had a good relationship before he was outed. Though there are no direct ties to him, the Twins can’t capture a good photo in daylight, let alone at night and in hiding. He thinks Austin had something to do with it, but hasn’t launched any accusations yet.

Pets:

“Sunny” Sunset Shimmer (Kitten): He bought Luisa a kitten for her birthday and she unfortunately named her after a My Little Pony character, and he’s taken to calling her Sunny for short.  

→ History

Emmanuel was born in Chicago to Maria Flores. Though a newly single mom of two, Maria worked herself to the bone caring for her sons. She’d work multiple jobs day and night, but still poured as much as she could into her boys. Despite this fact, one thing imprinted on Emmanuel’s memory is how she was always collected. He never remembered seeing her messy or just throw something on. She used to tell him the only thing you can control in life is yourself. She could control how she felt in her nice clothes and tidy hair, and how she looked to the world. A few years later, Maria found Luis, a nice man with a daughter of his own. He was a perfect match for Maria and they wound up getting married quickly. Emmanuel, Ignacio, and Maria all moved into the Gomez household the summer of his 6th grade year and marked only the beginning of changes.

He began noticing differences in himself and the other guys in his friend group. He wasn’t girl crazy and felt lost as everyone he knew began transitioning from puberty. His feelings for other men grew, but Emmanuel desperately tried to force himself straight. He dated girls, trying to push away the thoughts that he may feel anything different than the rest of his friends. He finished high school and began college for broadcasting. Along the way he found Mariela who was smart and kind and beautiful. He thought that she’d make a good wife and partner, even if there was no attraction to her. She fell pregnant and had Luisa the next year. Emmanuel tried to put his personal feelings aside and focus on being a good father to Luisa. Then he and Mariela began fighting and he found himself telling her the truth. She wanted nothing to do with him and kicked him out. She swore that he used her and was a fraud. After that came out Emmanuel knew he needed to tell the others in his family while trying to mend his relationship with Mariela.

When Emmanuel finally told his mother, he’d never seen her look so disappointed in him. Luis tried to say something but Mano just wanted to run away. He poured himself into his news segment writing and began subbing in for various hosts at the station before scoring a midnight talk show. It was pitched as a dual lingual talk show with an emphasis on the different neighborhoods of Chicago. Almost no one watched, but he was finally able to get on camera. It was at this time that Emmanel found out his mother was sick from Juana. When he saw her the next week, she looked ravaged by the disease and they both started crying and apologizing. He felt like he had to make up whatever lost time he could and offered to drive her wherever she needed to go. He found out that she’d taken to watching his television show late at night and the bond between them began to heal.

Walking home one morning after his show, Emmanuel felt eyes following him. He was strong and thought he could take anyone that might come at him but wasn’t expecting a coyote to appear. Emmanuel attempted to scare it away with a few yells, but it skulked closer to him, leaping and biting him when it got the chance. He kicked the coyote away from him and went to the hospital to get it cleaned and a tetanus shot The next day Percy McCormick, CEO of McCormick productions arrived at his door and explained what he called “a terrible accident”. He continued to go on about what he was and that his whole life would change. In this spiel, he also offered him a job. Emmanuel had a rough transition into being a coyote. He didn’t like listening to those who attempted to teach him how to shift and felt a lot of anger towards the nimbles. It wasn’t  until Mariela reached out and wanted to make it work that Emmanuel felt hope again. He has found contentment in his coyote form within the last 5 years that he never imagined he’d have.

→ The Present

Emmanuel has been receiving some negativity since he was outed to the greater public by a gossip rag co-written by the Boaz twins. They didn’t get much of a punishment from Percy, and Mano has been dealing with the fall out from both the human and supernatural community. He has been thrust into the spotlight by the station, seemingly as a diversity token, and is finding his reporting and journalism in general being dismissed in favor of his sexuality. He began to isolate himself from the nimbles after that particular betrayal of trust, and has started a habit of hunting foxes and leaving them on the twins door.

To push past the stigma his outing caused, Emmanuel has been working on a series of pieces for the station, highlighting the real lives of some of the most difficult jobs in the city. He has been shadowing various occupations showcasing “Heroes of Chicago” for the news station.

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Alfonso Herrera (Emmanuel Flores) [1][2][3][4]

#alfonso herrera #Supernatural RP #BIO RP #Animal Shifter RP

[onesandzcros]

unthinkable

   Things changed. That was what Percy had learned, the hardest lesson of all.

   He’d graduated Hogwarts after working incredibly hard to get the results that he’d wanted. He’d been Head Boy (not the first one in the family to do it, but still), and he’d at last accepted that his love of books was out of place in a family whose passions involved the outdoors or a broom in various shades. It was a sense of resignation that had prompted the acceptance, necessity rather than preference, but it meant that he stopped trying to hold back on it when he finally got what he wanted. The job at the Ministry. It was everything he’d spent years striving towards, to finally be respected and have a choice in how he was viewed.

   The Department of International Magical Cooperation. It was the first step on the Ministry’s political ladder, and Percy was going to fight his way up. It meant that he did everything he could to adjust his clothes, his manner, adhered to the rules and their structure ever more strictly as he learned more about them. The law was the law was the law.

   It didn’t matter that he was teased relentlessly when he asked for quiet to concentrate at home, or that Mr Crouch forgot his name so regularly that it was humiliating. Percy was going to make something of himself. Having the ambition to climb the political ladder inside the Ministry’s walls didn’t have to mean some sort of evil. It could mean distinction, a way to make more of himself, a way to help his family. He’d seen the inside of their Gringotts vault far too hollow on too many occasions.

   One day, he’d told himself. One day, it would be different. He wouldn’t hear the familiar we’ll manage. They’d never wanted for food, the first priority, and the roof stayed stable over their heads, but they’d never all had a new set of robes at once, and there had been nights where Percy knew his parents had sat and planned every Knut and where it would be spent. He was going to work hard, and people were going to notice the name of Weasley and respect it again. They were going to look at his family and see them for who they were, not what they made.

   A lot could spin plans like his around without warning. The Quidditch World Cup, where Percy had come away with a bloodied nose and a red face on hearing the name Weatherby. The Triwizard Tournament, supposed to be a grand success, something he’d known about from the beginning, turned to disaster which quickly turned to blame. He was the ideal scapegoat. You should have noticed Mr Crouch was acting strangely and informed a superior, Weasley. Your head’s on the block, so I suggest you don’t put another toe out of line. We’ll be watching you. It had been a severe warning and had left him deeply shaken, not only that he hadn’t noticed something was wrong, but that everything he’d worked for could be taken away, just like that.

   Then the promotion came through. Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic himself. Percy was beside himself, because it was a lifeline where he’d firmly believed that he’d proven himself despite what happened during the tournament.

   The conversation with his parents proved that they thought something very different, and it had stung badly. It was the final straw, and that meant that Percy exploded and said the unforgivable. That he’d spent years struggling against his father’s lack of ambition and lousy reputation, against the disadvantages of having no money. Of mending robes in secret and studying from every book in the library that he could get his hands on because he couldn’t get the peace to study at home. How they’d never given him any credit for what he was capable of because someone else had done it first. He was tired of being the one who didn’t fit in, the expendable child. 

   They’d chosen to go down with Dumbledore. He wasn’t going to be taken down with them when the truth was proven.

   Things could change a lot in a couple of years.

   Percy had moved out. He’d paid for a flat in London for a month or two, before he realised that it would quickly deplete whatever poor excuse for savings he was managing to scrape together. His wage had improved, but not enough to afford somewhere on his own for long. He’d regretted the harsh words the moment he said them, but years of building to this point made him refuse to go back and admit defeat. That was when a solution had been offered to him by an old friend, who he’d been close to at Hogwarts but lost touch with since they left. Boarding school friendships didn’t always sustain over the separation caused by the real world, not when they didn’t see one another every day. He’d had to learn that too, but maybe this one was different.

   Oliver. Oliver Wood. Signed by Puddlemere United and if possible, even more Quidditch obsessed than the brothers and sister he no longer acknowledged. He hadn’t told Oliver why he wanted to move out. It wasn’t exactly a deception, but he hadn’t been straightforward about it either, because saying his family were followers of Dumbledore could mean something very different later than it did now.

   He wished he’d known better, because Oliver had blown up at him the minute that he found out the real reason he needed a place to go, triggered by a haughty remark about wanting better for himself than riding on Albus Dumbledore’s doomed coattails. If he hadn’t already known he’d done something terrible in leaving his family, that was salt in the wound, but Percy was too proud to admit it might have been a mistake. By then it was too late for a change of housing arrangements, because Percy was paying half of the rent and Oliver wasn’t in the first team yet, so he needed the other person there as much as Percy had needed a place to live.

   Even if in public Percy ignored his family, something done with a streak of guilt that only made him angrier on the inside, in private it wasn’t even a matter up for discussion. He’d been in sorted into Gryffindor, but now? He knew himself to be a coward. Whatever ugly emotions Percy felt, he didn’t share them any more.

   Not even if lonely was the foremost among them. He and Oliver barely talked after that.

   Then Oliver’s pattern changed. Even if they didn’t talk beyond the bare minimum necessary, there was a steadiness to the other’s rhythms that Percy had come to consciously rely upon. He went to practice, he went to the pub (or out, at least, Percy assumed). He didn’t often bring people back, and the only time he was loud was when he was working through Quidditch stuff.

   It didn’t stay that way. Percy would find Oliver asleep on the sofa in the living room when he came down in the morning, unshaven and still dressed. He came back at odd hours of the night and woke Percy up, leaving him aggravated. But it wasn’t until Percy saw the first bruise on Oliver’s face that he thought that something was amiss.

   He said nothing. So long as he said nothing, he didn’t have to care. He didn’t have to carry another feeling of guilt around in his guts like acid, because Percy Weasley wasn’t responsible for his flatmate’s welfare. He had his ambition, and he was alone.

   Except that unwittingly, Percy did care. He cared about what was happening, about watching the bright light that had once been in Oliver starting to dim, about the shadows beginning to appear beneath his eyes. He had his suspicions, he wasn’t an idiot, but if he asked the question and Oliver confirmed, it would be over and he’d have to turn him over to the Ministry, tell them his suspicions. He didn’t want to.

   So he did what he could. Blankets over an asleep form on the couch. Medicines surreptitiously restocked in the cabinet. Meals cooked (his mum had taught him, another painful pang that struck every time he so much as used a pan) and leftovers put in boxes without a word. And every now and then, when he could get away with it, a healing spell, done far too gently for it to mean anything but concern.

   Eventually, Oliver had confronted him on it. Of course he had. Oliver had never ran away from anything in his life. Percy had met his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re doing, and I can’t know,” he’d emphasised. “I don’t want to know. Understand?”

   Because Oliver Wood was looking suspiciously like a member of the Order of the Phoenix instead of only being an extremely gifted Quidditch player, and Percy Weasley wanted to keep his boundaries in place. He’d sacrificed his relationship with his family to ambition. He wasn’t going to be proven wrong, because that would mean it had all been for nothing.

   Except that he was wrong. Over and over again. And he finally had to acknowledge it.

   If Percy had done another thing that was unthinkable and begun to fall in love with Oliver while he was at it, no one needed to know that either.

   A few years could be a lifetime lived. Now the world was at war, and nothing would ever be the same.

#( unthinkable ). #( self para ).

[goonlalagoon]

Above all things || PJO/HoO

An Octavian-centric AU where things when the Argo II arrived in New Rome went a little differently.

Or: What if New Rome never burned?

On first meeting him, Annabeth Chase hated Percy Jackson purely on principle, because his godly father and her godly mother were at odds due to an argument that had taken place thousands of years before. By the end of their first quest, she had decided that she didn't care. Percy was not "the son of Posiedon". He was just "Seaweed Brain" - a little daft, but kind, sarcastic, headstrong and loyal. He was her friend, and she no longer cared whether they were supposed to hate one another.

Let us give Octavian the same chance.

He was raised in New Rome, augur before he was old enough to hold a sword, even by the standards of these teenage soldiers. He learnt of Roman history before he could write, stories of glory and honour. He learnt that the Greeks were not to be trusted: Romans should beware the Graecus. Octavian grew from child to teen with New Rome in his heart. Anything that threatened this legacy to which he was born was not to be tolerated. He heard rumours of the Greeks, saw demigods leave the Legion in search of something else, and woke from nightmares of an army swarming over the valley, razing everything to the ground.

When the army came, it was not the Greeks but the titans and their minions, tearing at the seams of his world. When Percy told them of the other camp, a bitter thought piped up in Octavian's mind: why didn't they help us? He had lost friends, bore scars both on his skin and in his mind and heart.

He was not the bravest, this distant child of Apollo, but he held Rome above all things, even his own safety. (In the world of the story we know, had Nico warned him of his robe, tangled in the ballista, yet told him it would save Rome, he would not have untangled it.)

The entrails did not declare Percy unsafe, unsuited, but the portents echoed in Octavian's mind as for the Graecus and son of Poseidon. He was tempted to lie, but placed his faith in the gods, as he always had done. Octavian still murdered Gwen, uncaring. The entrails had whispered of the weakening hold of death. Such a thing could not be ignored, and much of Octavian's ability to be reasonable, to be compassionate, had been burned away in the Titan war. He had been the vehicle of too many quests, spoken the words at too many funerals, been the directions that sent too many to death or injury, to be able to bear empathy, so he shut it away.

He was  a Roman, and true Romans did not show pain, or sorrow. True Romans did not want to cry and beg for everything to end, to say they had had enough of war and monsters and the glory that came from wielding a sword, so Octavian never admitted that he did, even to himself. He steeled himself for death and dust, and kept his eyes on the golden glory of Rome as his guiding light, his destiny and his salvation.

This Octavian still hated Percy, still glared bitterly as the newcomer stole the praetorship he had always coveted. He had started to despise Percy because he seemed to be Graecus; he continued to do so because he was praetor and Octavian was not. This bitterness would never be lost, or changed, no matter the events that followed.

The eildon still possessed Leo, but in this world, Reyna went onto the Argo II as well as Octavian. Perhaps Piper did too, claiming she wanted to fetch something from her cabin to mask her unease, and Annabeth, perceptive as always and so catching Piper’s slight worry, tagged along. Between them, they realised when something went wrong. Octavian still shrilly screamed "treachery!" and bayed for blood, but Piper talked the eildon down and Reyna had spent years with Circe; she understands an enchantment when she sees it.

Leo spends the rest of their stay terrified of himself, in fear of the destruction he almost wrought. It still isn't a long stay, because they all agree they cannot risk it. Reyna and Annabeth still bond warily, children of goddesses with tactics and strategy as lifeblood, and Jason gets to show Piper around his other home. Frank and Leo's first interaction is still a little tense, still a little at odds, but Frank is not dealing with someone who just destroyed his home before his eyes, and they are less at each other's throats. It still takes time for them to warm to one another, because Hazel still looks at Leo and sees Sammy, and Leo looks at Hazel and sees someone strong and fierce and totally out of his league.

(Leo never believed he was good enough, so always fell for those he knew would never look at him. It was less painful, he thought. Frank didn’t understand that he was good enough, and worried.)

Octavian still screams for Graecus blood, but there is no support, with Reyna to explain. And he is shaken, but he had also seen Piper and Annabeth leap to stop Leo before even Reyna could move a muscle, heard the eildon speak and curse through the son of Hephaestus, watched Jason both restrain and comfort his friend when the spirit fled.

It is hard for even the most biased observer to believe the attack was intentional when they had heard Leo's panic when he regained control, listened to the mechanic’s frantic plans to make all weaponry need to be operated by two people at once. The augur was still unconvinced by the trustworthiness of the Greeks, but he didn't have the smoking ruins of New Rome and Camp Jupiter to condense his fears.

Reyna only had to deal with Octavian and a small handful of concerned Legionnaires, not an entire Legion out for blood. Percy was still shining in their minds as new praetor, untainted by betrayal; it had been decided they would sort out who remained praetor and who stepped down when - if - they returned. But they had explained to Reyna and the senate how to send Iris messages, and between them Percy and Jason had selected a deputy to aid the lone praetor in their absence. Octavian was bitter, but there were no half exiled praetors for him to usurp, and he was forced to content himself with the power of augur. He had no howling masses to force Reyna to listen, had no motivation beyond a background dislike and distrust.

He sat through mist conferences with cabin leaders, curious teenagers who had never dreamt there were others like them. They traded stories of the Titan war, cautiously. The Greeks hadn't the depth of existing bias against the Romans, but they were not fools. Octavian would have despised them if they were. Arguments were not uncommon, the rage of Athena driving a wedge between the two camps, the same refrain of why didn’t you know, why didn’t you help us, why didn’t you save our friends? echoing in everyone’s minds, but Reyna called for calm, along with Rachel and Grover, echoed by Malcolm, Will and most of the other cabin leaders. Clarisse just grunted, but then Clarisse liked to fight. But Clarisse - she would also laugh with you after pummeling you to the ground, over food and gulps of water, crowing at victory and daring you to challenge her again. Once, Reyna got into a friendly discussion with Malcolm and Clarisse about strategy and war game ideas, and if he closed his eyes Octavian could have been in the weekly centurion lunch meeting.

The Greeks sounded no different to the Romans, at times. They were all children, teenagers, too young for the trials they had faced, for the dangers they were preparing for. They were all children, teenagers, trading fashion tips and gossip, playing pranks and planning midnight feasts, too used to war and battles, used to taking their peace whenever it came by, no matter how brief. Perhaps their smiles were all the brighter for the darkness they were surrounded by.

When Annabeth sent a message to Reyna from the dark depths of Tartarus, the praetor still saddled her pegasus and flew to the aid of her friends and allies. Reyna was a commander; she understood the bigger picture. The safety of New Rome, of the world, was more important than being certain of her position as praetor when she returned, and it always would be. Reyna judged people by what they did, not by what was said about them. She applied the same to herself; she did not care if she was declared exile for crossing the mare nostrum, only that in doing so she saved her home, her family.

Octavian shouted and raged, perplexed, about helping those who had destroyed her first home, and she shook her head at him: “And he saved this one.” Percy had earned her forgiveness, or, at least, her acceptance of the past. She understood the choices a demigod must make on a quest all too well, and would not hold them against him, or by extension Annabeth - though it admittedly didn’t hurt that he had given her a very un-Roman apology.

(In another world, where Leo fired upon New Rome, Reyna would forgive him too, once the war was over and she had listened to the tale, greyhounds sniffing in search of deception. She may never like him, but she understood enchantment, possession, the things that a person could be driven to do by magical reins. These were not your actions. They were the actions of someone else. She also understood how you could stand in a group and yet be alone, though she never spoke of it.)

Octavian still took command once Reyna was gone, but could not get support to march on Camp Half blood. He readied the cohorts, planned for treachery, waiting for the Greeks to turn on the Legion. When they did, he swore they would be annihilated. Rome would never fall while he lived. When the messages came, there was no declaration of war, no false gifts, no spies or attacks. Instead he received a plea for help - from the seven, from Reyna, from the counselors at Camp Half-blood, and Lupa looked at him, the fires of Rome burning in her gaze, until he left for Temple hill. He sacrificed near a hundred toys that night, searching for any hint of danger, but returned with the dawn to order the Legion to prepare for battle.

If allying with Greeks was necessary for the safety of Rome, then Octavian would willingly be allied with his nightmares. (Senatus Populusque Romanus; Rome above all things.)

#Percy Jackson #PJO #HoO #PJO fanfic #I think I was trying to get to grips with Octavian as a character in some ways and decided to do it by writing a 'oh hey what if...'? #I mean he's still a cold bastard #but a younger version of him appears in a long fic i'm still working on and in that I've made him less so #my writing

[lucifersagents]

The Race Against Time Part 1

gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns

Title: The Race Against Time Part 1

Characters: Pride x Reader, LaSalle, Percy, Gibbs, Tony, McGee, Mitch (some asshole)

Word Count: 1,337

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This was a request by @flufy07 that I had to split up into two parts! You’ll get both parts today, so no worries! I hope you all enjoy this! <3

Part 2

It was an early morning and you were sitting at the kitchen table with Pride.  The two of you had already been together for a couple of years.  You liked the fact that you got to work with Pride, it gave you the chance to spend time together; even if it was at work.

You excused yourself from the table as your phone rang.  Usually Pride was the one who got the call about a dead body, not you.  However, that wasn’t the case.  You got a call from the state prison in Georgia.  A prisoner had escaped last night, one that you helped put away.  You remembered the way he swore his vengeance upon you.

You brushed it off.  He was in Georgia.  There was no way he would know where you were now.  You were now in New Orleans with Pride and your team.  That case was apart of your past.  Things were different now.

As the day progressed, you started to think that he could actually find you.  What if he knew where you were?  What if he had contacts on the outside that were watching you?  If they were, how long had they been watching you for?  Did they know where your apartment was?  You didn’t go there too often during the week, but you still had one.

“[Y/N],” Pride called, breaking you away from your thoughts.  His hand rested gently on the small of your back.  “Honey ya look as white as a ghost.  Are you okay?”

You looked around at the rest of your team, giving a curt nod.  “Yeah I’m fine,” you fibbed.  “I’m just not feeling well, that’s all.”

“Why don’t’cha go home and get some rest,” Pride suggested kindly.  “Ah’ll come by later to check on ya.”

You grabbed your keys and your bag, flashing Pride a small smile.  On your way home you couldn’t help but look around to if see someone was following you.  Even though you were sure that no one was, you still felt on edge.  

Later that night you jumped at the knock on your door.  You thought about telling Pride about the call you got today, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.  This wasn’t his problem, it was yours.  This was a part of your past you wanted to put it behind you without dragging anyone else into it.

A few days later you were getting ready for work at your apartment.  You only spent a few days in your apartment a week, if that.  You were waiting for Pride to ask you to move in.  You were willing to wait for him to ask.

As you grabbed your keys and your phone off of your nightstand you heard a thud in your apartment.  You grabbed the gun from your nightstand drawer, slowly walking towards the living room.  You held your gun in the air as you walked into the living room.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been in the same room [Y/N],” a familiar voice spoke.  “I trust that they delivered the message to you.”

You spun around on your heels.  As soon as you faced him, a bat collided with your gut, making you drop your gun and stumble backwards.  You landed on your coffee table, breaking the glass vase that was full of flowers.

“How the hell did you find me Mitch,” you asked, getting to your feet.  “You’ve been in prison.”

“True,” Mitch smirked, twirling the bat in his hand.  “I’ve got connections.  People willing to do things for me.”  Mitch’s smirk grew wider as he looked at your arm.  “Looks like you’ve cut your arm [Y/N].  You’ve always been a little messy.  Like the time we first met.   You got blood all over the floor.  At least it’s not my floor this time”

As Mitch swung his bat to hit you, you grabbed the end of the bat.  You pushed the handle of the bat into his face.  He stumbled into the wall behind him.  Before you could reach your gun, Mitch hit you with his bat, knocking you out cold.

“Homerun,” Mitch muttered, wiping the blood away from his lip.

Pride stepped into the squad room.  He noticed you weren’t here yet.  It wasn’t like you to be late, not without calling first.  Everyone knew you were having an off week, but he didn’t think you would let it intervene with your work.  He thought you would have came to him first.

“Has anyone heard from [Y/N],” Pride asked, walking over to his desk.  He grabbed the gun from his filing cabinet and his keys from his desk.  

“Not a word,” LaSalle replied.  “She’s been actin’ weird all week.  [Y/N] almost jumped outta her skin when I tried to talk to her after work last night.  She kept inisistin’ that everythin’ was fine.”

“That girl has been on edge,” Percy chimed in, folding her arms across her chest.  “Either she needs a chill pill, or something’s wrong Pride.”

“Ah’m gonna go see what [Y/N] is up to,” Pride decided.  “Lemme know if somethin’ comes up.”  Pride hopped in his vehicle, starting up the engine.  As he left for your apartment, he hoped that you were okay.  He hated to admit it, but Percy and LaSalle were right; you weren’t yourself lately.

The agent pulled to a stop outside of your apartment, quickly making his way inside of the building.  As he neared your apartment, he noticed small dots on the carpeting in the hallway.  The pace of his feet picked up as he spotted your door.  It was wide open.

“No,” Pride breathed, taking his gun out of its holster.  The second he stepped foot in your apartment, his heart seemed to stop.  The vase that held the flowers he had given you just a few days ago was on the floor.  There was blood on the wall, and the carpet as well.  There was a hint of an indent in the wall; one that was too big to be yours.

He dug his phone out of his pocket dialing LaSalle’s number.  “Chris, bring Percy and Sebastian to [Y/N]’s apartment.  We’ve got a problem,” Pride ordered, his voice low and somewhat shaken.

“On our way King,” LaSalle replied.

Pride looked around,  noticing how many of your things were broken.  It looked like a tornado had gone through your apartment.  He wondered what exactly happened here.  He should have came to you instead of waiting for you to come to him.  Now you were out there and most likely injured, if not dead.  He hoped you were alive.  It was now a race against time to find you.  He was going to need help.  Luckily, he knew who to call.

“Boss are you sure we should be going down to New Orleans,” DiNozzo asked, putting his bag in the trunk.  “There’s not much evidence.  How are we supposed to find Special Agent [Y/L/N].”

“We’re going to help Tony.”  McGee set his bag next to Tony’s.  He got into the backseat of the car.

“Her name is [Y/N], DiNozzo,” Gibbs mumbled, closing the trunk.  “Now get in the car before I bring someone else.”

“This story is all over the news Gibbs,” Tony noted, sliding into the passenger seat.  “It’s not good if we want [Y/N] to be alive if we find her.  How many women did he murder before she put him in prison anyway?”

“Ten,” Gibbs replied flatly.  “We’re going to help Pride make sure that number doesn’t become eleven.  If he didn’t need our help he wouldn’t have contacted the director.”

“I heard that this guy uses a baseball bat.  At least that’s what the news outlets are saying.”  Tony glanced over at Gibbs, who was giving him a death glare.  “Right, sorry boss.”

Gibbs put the car in drive.  If Pride needed his help, he would damn well help him.  He knew how special you were to Pride.

#Dwayne pride x reader #dwayne pride angst #Dwayne Pride one shot #dwayne pride imagine #ncis nola x reader #ncis nola reader insert #Dwayne Pride reader insert #ncis nola angst #ncis nola one shot #ncis nola imagine #Dwayne Pride fanfic #Dwayne Pride fanfiction #Dwayne pride fic #ncis nola fic #ncis nola fanfic #ncis nola fanfiction #LaSalle x reader #Percy x reader

[chicagocityofclans]

Emmanuel Flores → Alfonso Herrera → Coyote

→ Basic Information

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Born or Made: Made

Birthday: October 1st

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Religion: Catholic

→ His Personality Emmanuel has a strong need for control. He cares about what people know about him, how he presents himself, his apartment and his reputation. He built his outward persona from the ground up and knows the value of a good reputation and controlling the narrative. He has a strong and inviting personality that draws people in and gets them to listen. It’s one of his strengths as an anchor and interviewer. Emmanuel is well spoken and has studied all the greats to develop his own personal reporting and interview style. While he is very graceful and eloquent in most situations, when left unchecked or angered Emmanuel can be domineering. He can hold a room captive until he gets his way. And when he doesn’t, or something slides out of his control he can become vindictive and aggressive towards the situation.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Television Broadcast Anchor

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Looking neat and Anderson Cooper

Two Dislikes: Manipulative headlines and Taco Bell

Two Fears: His family being changed and

Two Hobbies: Going to the gym and Writing poetry

Three Positive Traits: Eloquent, Enigmatic, Courageous

Three Negative Traits: Vindictive, Domineering, Controlling

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Maria Flores (Mother): Maria was Emmanuel’s major support system in the beginning of his childhood. She did everything she could so he could have a good childhood. Their relationship was bad when he first came out to her, and it took her getting sick to come around and realize what she was missing without him. Emmanuel took charge with his mother’s illness and was there at every chemo, radiation and doctor’s appointments. They are now incredibly strong and Maria comes over every weekend to catch up with her children and play with her granddaughter.

Luis Gomez (Step-Father): Luis is the father that Robert never was. Though he came into his life too late to be there for him as a child, Luis showed up at nearly every debate team match and stood cheering at both graduations.

Robert Hall (Father): Robert was never in Emmanuel’s life and Emmanuel doesn’t truly consider him to be his father.

Sibling Names:

Ignacio Flores (Brother): Ignacio and Emmanuel have always had a challenging relationship. Ignacio thinks Emmanuel is the reason Robert left, not wanting the responsibility of another mouth to feed. Emmanuel tried to connect over years, but just gave up eventually. The two continue to be tense around one another, but are good enough where Nacio will come around for dinner on weekends.

Juana Gomez (Step-Sister): Emmanuel and Juana were the closest growing up. Only a year apart in school, he kept an eye on her and tried to protect her the best he could. She works in Milwaukee now, as a county clerk, but tries to make it out once a month for the weekend.

Alejandro Gomez (Half-Brother): Alejandro was everyone’s favorite sibling growing up. He was adorable, and had an infectious laugh that broke up most of the fights in the Flores-Gomez household. He’s just now finishing up his Bachelor’s degree in Film and Emmanuel is trying to score him a job at the news station.

Children Names:

Luisa Moreno (Daughter): Emmanuel and Mariela are attempting to raise Luisa together and give her as normal of a life as possible. She is going into first grade this year, and Emmanuel worries what she might hear about her father in school.

Romantic Connections:

Mariela Moreno (Ex-girlfriend): Emmanuel was trying desperately not to be gay for a long time. He joked around, found a pretty girl and tried to imagine his life as that forever. Eventually he broke down and told Mariela. She was understandably shaken and the first few years of Luisa’s life were tense. They had a very honest conversation, both admitting fault, and have come together as friends to try and raise Luisa with a healthy family dynamic.

Platonic Connections:

Jesus Herrara (Best Friend): Jesus has been his best friend since he can remember. They met as kindergarteners and never split up. He was the person Mano was most concerned about finding out about his sexuality, but Jesus barely batted an eye. The only tension came when Jesus asked Mari out on a date. Emmanuel had a hard time briefly, but is now glad he has someone he trusts so much in Mariela and Luisa’s life.

Milton Rod Jackman (Good Friend): Rod is Emmanuel’s investigator. They work together on larger interest pieces, and though he’s a hard-ass, he is incredibly loyal and has been a sense of normalcy for Emmanuel through everything. He’s been a great resource with regards to parenting and has helped Mano avoid bigger mistakes.

Simon Brodeur (Camera man): Emmanuel takes Simon along as his camera man most often, just to get him out of his head. It’s been a few months since his mate died and he just hasn’t been right since. Emmanuel feels for him and tries to cheer him up when he can.

Breha Kaur (Reporter): Breha moved to his show recently and has begun working with himself and Rod on stories. He doesn’t know her as well as the others and wonders if she is a part of that fox group. She is always friendly to him, which he reciprocates though. He thinks she’s a good writer, and would consider getting to know her better.

Ryan Cleirigh (New Acquaintance): Emmanuel approached Ryan about doing a podcast with him. He’s not sure exactly what he’d want to address, but feels he needs to be able to have a platform free of the McCormick empire to do it.

Vincent Kane (Resource): Vincent has been a major resource when it comes to reporting on Supernatural news. He is the most communicative of the Human Shifters and cares about getting the story right and accurate.

Maxine Vanes (Former Resource): Max used to be an excellent resource for any rat information he needed, but he is well aware of the stigma that the rats hold and doesn’t know if trying his luck with Max would destroy that avenue for his show.

Hostile Connections:

Tim Boaz (Hates): Emmanuel always thought of Tim as a good guy with a bad brother, but it was Tim’s name in the byline on the article. Emmanuel hates liars and finds Tim somehow more despicable than his brother.

Lee Boaz (Hates): Lee has always hated him, but he didn’t expect him to go as low as he has with this piece. He never trusted him before and now he wants him out of the pack, or dead.

Percy McCormick (Angry with): He feels that Percy did nothing to help him and has done nothing to discipline the twins. They are causing havoc everywhere and destroying relationships with other packs. He is well aware that he is one of many unhappy with the current nimble Alpha.

Austin Semler (Distrusts): He and Austin had a good relationship before he was outed. Though there are no direct ties to him, the Twins can’t capture a good photo in daylight, let alone at night and in hiding. He thinks Austin had something to do with it, but hasn’t launched any accusations yet.

Pets:

“Sunny” Sunset Shimmer (Kitten): He bought Luisa a kitten for her birthday and she unfortunately named her after a My Little Pony character, and he’s taken to calling her Sunny for short.  

→ History Emmanuel was born in Chicago to Maria Flores. Though a newly single mom of two, Maria worked herself to the bone caring for her sons. She’d work multiple jobs day and night, but still poured as much as she could into her boys. Despite this fact, one thing imprinted on Emmanuel’s memory is how she was always collected. He never remembered seeing her messy or just throw something on. She used to tell him the only thing you can control in life is yourself. She could control how she felt in her nice clothes and tidy hair, and how she looked to the world. A few years later, Maria found Luis, a nice man with a daughter of his own. He was a perfect match for Maria and they wound up getting married quickly. Emmanuel, Ignacio, and Maria all moved into the Gomez household the summer of his 6th grade year and marked only the beginning of changes.

He began noticing differences in himself and the other guys in his friend group. He wasn't girl crazy and felt lost as everyone he knew began transitioning from puberty. His feelings for other men grew, but Emmanuel desperately tried to force himself straight. He dated girls, trying to push away the thoughts that he may feel anything different than the rest of his friends. He finished high school and began college for broadcasting. Along the way he found Mariela who was smart and kind and beautiful. He thought that she’d make a good wife and partner, even if there was no attraction to her. She fell pregnant and had Luisa the next year. Emmanuel tried to put his personal feelings aside and focus on being a good father to Luisa. Then he and Mariela began fighting and he found himself telling her the truth. She wanted nothing to do with him and kicked him out. She swore that he used her and was a fraud. After that came out Emmanuel knew he needed to tell the others in his family while trying to mend his relationship with Mariela.

When Emmanuel finally told his mother, he’d never seen her look so disappointed in him. Luis tried to say something but Mano just wanted to run away. He poured himself into his news segment writing and began subbing in for various hosts at the station before scoring a midnight talk show. It was pitched as a dual lingual talk show with an emphasis on the different neighborhoods of Chicago. Almost no one watched, but he was finally able to get on camera. It was at this time that Emmanel found out his mother was sick from Juana. When he saw her the next week, she looked ravaged by the disease and they both started crying and apologizing. He felt like he had to make up whatever lost time he could and offered to drive her wherever she needed to go. He found out that she’d taken to watching his television show late at night and the bond between them began to heal.

Walking home one morning after his show, Emmanuel felt eyes following him. He was strong and thought he could take anyone that might come at him but wasn’t expecting a coyote to appear. Emmanuel attempted to scare it away with a few yells, but it skulked closer to him, leaping and biting him when it got the chance. He kicked the coyote away from him and went to the hospital to get it cleaned and a tetanus shot The next day Percy McCormick, CEO of McCormick productions arrived at his door and explained what he called “a terrible accident”. He continued to go on about what he was and that his whole life would change. In this spiel, he also offered him a job. Emmanuel had a rough transition into being a coyote. He didn’t like listening to those who attempted to teach him how to shift and felt a lot of anger towards the nimbles. It wasn’t  until Mariela reached out and wanted to make it work that Emmanuel felt hope again. He has found contentment in his coyote form within the last 5 years that he never imagined he’d have.

→ The Present Emmanuel has been receiving some negativity since he was outed to the greater public by a gossip rag co-written by the Boaz twins. They didn’t get much of a punishment from Percy, and Mano has been dealing with the fall out from both the human and supernatural community. He has been thrust into the spotlight by the station, seemingly as a diversity token, and is finding his reporting and journalism in general being dismissed in favor of his sexuality. He began to isolate himself from the nimbles after that particular betrayal of trust, and has started a habit of hunting foxes and leaving them on the twins door.

To push past the stigma his outing caused, Emmanuel has been working on a series of pieces for the station, highlighting the real lives of some of the most difficult jobs in the city. He has been shadowing various occupations showcasing “Heroes of Chicago” for the news station.

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Alfonso Herrera (Emmanuel Flores) [1][2][3][4]

#Emmanuel Flores #Mano Flores #OM #OMAS #OMN #OAS #Open

[chicagocityfclanspromoblog]

Emmanuel Flores → Alfonso Herrera → Coyote

→ Basic Information

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Born or Made: Made

Birthday: October 1st

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Religion: Catholic

Like Emmanuel? Consider taking him in our Nimble Giveaway Event! We will be waiving applications para samples, personalities and histories requirements for all canon nimbles. Just send in the first and last name of the nimble(s) you would like to the main.

→ His Personality Emmanuel has a strong need for control. He cares about what people know about him, how he presents himself, his apartment and his reputation. He built his outward persona from the ground up and knows the value of a good reputation and controlling the narrative. He has a strong and inviting personality that draws people in and gets them to listen. It’s one of his strengths as an anchor and interviewer. Emmanuel is well spoken and has studied all the greats to develop his own personal reporting and interview style. While he is very graceful and eloquent in most situations, when left unchecked or angered Emmanuel can be domineering. He can hold a room captive until he gets his way. And when he doesn’t, or something slides out of his control he can become vindictive and aggressive towards the situation.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Television Broadcast Anchor

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Looking neat and Anderson Cooper

Two Dislikes: Manipulative headlines and Taco Bell

Two Fears: His family being changed and

Two Hobbies: Going to the gym and Writing poetry

Three Positive Traits: Eloquent, Enigmatic, Courageous

Three Negative Traits: Vindictive, Domineering, Controlling

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Maria Flores (Mother): Maria was Emmanuel’s major support system in the beginning of his childhood. She did everything she could so he could have a good childhood. Their relationship was bad when he first came out to her, and it took her getting sick to come around and realize what she was missing without him. Emmanuel took charge with his mother’s illness and was there at every chemo, radiation and doctor’s appointments. They are now incredibly strong and Maria comes over every weekend to catch up with her children and play with her granddaughter.

Luis Gomez (Step-Father): Luis is the father that Robert never was. Though he came into his life too late to be there for him as a child, Luis showed up at nearly every debate team match and stood cheering at both graduations.

Robert Hall (Father): Robert was never in Emmanuel’s life and Emmanuel doesn’t truly consider him to be his father.

Sibling Names:

Ignacio Flores (Brother): Ignacio and Emmanuel have always had a challenging relationship. Ignacio thinks Emmanuel is the reason Robert left, not wanting the responsibility of another mouth to feed. Emmanuel tried to connect over years, but just gave up eventually. The two continue to be tense around one another, but are good enough where Nacio will come around for dinner on weekends.

Juana Gomez (Step-Sister): Emmanuel and Juana were the closest growing up. Only a year apart in school, he kept an eye on her and tried to protect her the best he could. She works in Milwaukee now, as a county clerk, but tries to make it out once a month for the weekend.

Alejandro Gomez (Half-Brother): Alejandro was everyone’s favorite sibling growing up. He was adorable, and had an infectious laugh that broke up most of the fights in the Flores-Gomez household. He’s just now finishing up his Bachelor’s degree in Film and Emmanuel is trying to score him a job at the news station.

Children Names:

Luisa Moreno (Daughter): Emmanuel and Mariela are attempting to raise Luisa together and give her as normal of a life as possible. She is going into first grade this year, and Emmanuel worries what she might hear about her father in school.

Romantic Connections:

Mariela Moreno (Ex-girlfriend): Emmanuel was trying desperately not to be gay for a long time. He joked around, found a pretty girl and tried to imagine his life as that forever. Eventually he broke down and told Mariela. She was understandably shaken and the first few years of Luisa’s life were tense. They had a very honest conversation, both admitting fault, and have come together as friends to try and raise Luisa with a healthy family dynamic.

Platonic Connections:

Jesus Herrara (Best Friend): Jesus has been his best friend since he can remember. They met as kindergarteners and never split up. He was the person Mano was most concerned about finding out about his sexuality, but Jesus barely batted an eye. The only tension came when Jesus asked Mari out on a date. Emmanuel had a hard time briefly, but is now glad he has someone he trusts so much in Mariela and Luisa’s life.

Milton Rod Jackman (Good Friend): Rod is Emmanuel’s investigator. They work together on larger interest pieces, and though he’s a hard-ass, he is incredibly loyal and has been a sense of normalcy for Emmanuel through everything. He’s been a great resource with regards to parenting and has helped Mano avoid bigger mistakes.

Simon Brodeur (Camera man): Emmanuel takes Simon along as his camera man most often, just to get him out of his head. It’s been a few months since his mate died and he just hasn’t been right since. Emmanuel feels for him and tries to cheer him up when he can.

Breha Kaur (Reporter): Breha moved to his show recently and has begun working with himself and Rod on stories. He doesn’t know her as well as the others and wonders if she is a part of that fox group. She is always friendly to him, which he reciprocates though. He thinks she’s a good writer, and would consider getting to know her better.

Ryan Cleirigh (New Acquaintance): Emmanuel approached Ryan about doing a podcast with him. He’s not sure exactly what he’d want to address, but feels he needs to be able to have a platform free of the McCormick empire to do it.

Vincent Kane (Resource): Vincent has been a major resource when it comes to reporting on Supernatural news. He is the most communicative of the Human Shifters and cares about getting the story right and accurate.

Maxine Vanes (Former Resource): Max used to be an excellent resource for any rat information he needed, but he is well aware of the stigma that the rats hold and doesn’t know if trying his luck with Max would destroy that avenue for his show.

Hostile Connections:

Tim Boaz (Hates): Emmanuel always thought of Tim as a good guy with a bad brother, but it was Tim’s name in the byline on the article. Emmanuel hates liars and finds Tim somehow more despicable than his brother.

Lee Boaz (Hates): Lee has always hated him, but he didn’t expect him to go as low as he has with this piece. He never trusted him before and now he wants him out of the pack, or dead.

Percy McCormick (Angry with): He feels that Percy did nothing to help him and has done nothing to discipline the twins. They are causing havoc everywhere and destroying relationships with other packs. He is well aware that he is one of many unhappy with the current nimble Alpha.

Austin Semler (Distrusts): He and Austin had a good relationship before he was outed. Though there are no direct ties to him, the Twins can’t capture a good photo in daylight, let alone at night and in hiding. He thinks Austin had something to do with it, but hasn’t launched any accusations yet.

Pets:

“Sunny” Sunset Shimmer (Kitten): He bought Luisa a kitten for her birthday and she unfortunately named her after a My Little Pony character, and he’s taken to calling her Sunny for short.  

→ History Emmanuel was born in Chicago to Maria Flores. Though a newly single mom of two, Maria worked herself to the bone caring for her sons. She’d work multiple jobs day and night, but still poured as much as she could into her boys. Despite this fact, one thing imprinted on Emmanuel’s memory is how she was always collected. He never remembered seeing her messy or just throw something on. She used to tell him the only thing you can control in life is yourself. She could control how she felt in her nice clothes and tidy hair, and how she looked to the world. A few years later, Maria found Luis, a nice man with a daughter of his own. He was a perfect match for Maria and they wound up getting married quickly. Emmanuel, Ignacio, and Maria all moved into the Gomez household the summer of his 6th grade year and marked only the beginning of changes.

He began noticing differences in himself and the other guys in his friend group. He wasn’t girl crazy and felt lost as everyone he knew began transitioning from puberty. His feelings for other men grew, but Emmanuel desperately tried to force himself straight. He dated girls, trying to push away the thoughts that he may feel anything different than the rest of his friends. He finished high school and began college for broadcasting. Along the way he found Mariela who was smart and kind and beautiful. He thought that she’d make a good wife and partner, even if there was no attraction to her. She fell pregnant and had Luisa the next year. Emmanuel tried to put his personal feelings aside and focus on being a good father to Luisa. Then he and Mariela began fighting and he found himself telling her the truth. She wanted nothing to do with him and kicked him out. She swore that he used her and was a fraud. After that came out Emmanuel knew he needed to tell the others in his family while trying to mend his relationship with Mariela.

When Emmanuel finally told his mother, he’d never seen her look so disappointed in him. Luis tried to say something but Mano just wanted to run away. He poured himself into his news segment writing and began subbing in for various hosts at the station before scoring a midnight talk show. It was pitched as a dual lingual talk show with an emphasis on the different neighborhoods of Chicago. Almost no one watched, but he was finally able to get on camera. It was at this time that Emmanel found out his mother was sick from Juana. When he saw her the next week, she looked ravaged by the disease and they both started crying and apologizing. He felt like he had to make up whatever lost time he could and offered to drive her wherever she needed to go. He found out that she’d taken to watching his television show late at night and the bond between them began to heal.

Walking home one morning after his show, Emmanuel felt eyes following him. He was strong and thought he could take anyone that might come at him but wasn’t expecting a coyote to appear. Emmanuel attempted to scare it away with a few yells, but it skulked closer to him, leaping and biting him when it got the chance. He kicked the coyote away from him and went to the hospital to get it cleaned and a tetanus shot The next day Percy McCormick, CEO of McCormick productions arrived at his door and explained what he called “a terrible accident”. He continued to go on about what he was and that his whole life would change. In this spiel, he also offered him a job. Emmanuel had a rough transition into being a coyote. He didn’t like listening to those who attempted to teach him how to shift and felt a lot of anger towards the nimbles. It wasn’t  until Mariela reached out and wanted to make it work that Emmanuel felt hope again. He has found contentment in his coyote form within the last 5 years that he never imagined he’d have.

→ The Present Emmanuel has been receiving some negativity since he was outed to the greater public by a gossip rag co-written by the Boaz twins. They didn’t get much of a punishment from Percy, and Mano has been dealing with the fall out from both the human and supernatural community. He has been thrust into the spotlight by the station, seemingly as a diversity token, and is finding his reporting and journalism in general being dismissed in favor of his sexuality. He began to isolate himself from the nimbles after that particular betrayal of trust, and has started a habit of hunting foxes and leaving them on the twins door.

To push past the stigma his outing caused, Emmanuel has been working on a series of pieces for the station, highlighting the real lives of some of the most difficult jobs in the city. He has been shadowing various occupations showcasing “Heroes of Chicago” for the news station.

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Alfonso Herrera (Emmanuel Flores) [1][2][3][4]

#alfonso herrera #supernatural rp #city rp #New rp