Shadow And Bone Masterlist

shadow and bone masterlist

aleksander kirigan (the darkling)

kaz brekker

i love you: the first time kaz ever tells (y/n) that he loves her.

“together?” “always.”:  (y/n) is badly injured and kaz finds himself reminiscing on their past together.

angel of death: (y/n) excels at murder and kaz needs someone just like that on his crew.

three taps:  kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

matthias helvar

@aroseinvelaris you have to read this.

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

"Hi, my name's Nico!"

pairing: platonic!nico di angelo x older sister reader

summary: you found your pugsley addams

warnings: brief mention of injury, grieving a family member

category: one-shot but not really

a/n: this is probably awful but do i need to fulfil my big sister urge to protect our beloved nico? yes. yes i do. i got this idea listening to Here With Me by d4vd, if you want something to listen while reading <3

“Hi, my name is Nico!”

Tousled dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a toothless grin, and a squeaky voice. Strangely, he doesn’t cower at your eyes, sizing him up. Either he doesn’t care or he’s clueless to your judgment. You're sure it’s the latter. 

How could this tiny boy, with too much life in his eyes, and too much excitement in his voice be a child of Hades? Considering your father’s exciting track record with children, this wasn’t what you were expecting when Chiron mentioned you had a brother moving in soon.

He’s just so… lively. 

The blinding daylight outside poured through your agape curtains and it surrounded his small frame like a giant halo. 

The sight was violent.

It gave you a headache. 

“What’s your name?” He waits antsy for your answer and you debate on even giving him one. 

Father told you he didn’t have any living children besides you. Considering the boy in front of you, it was a lie, or he had forgotten about him. Either way, you plan on arguing about it later. 

How dare he give you a roommate. Let alone a roommate barely in the double digits. This boy could have a tantrum today, and you didn’t sign up for babysitting.

“My side.” Your fingers point to the left of the cabin which is furnished with a bed, shelves, a desk, and a nightstand you got shipped to camp. “Your side.” 

Lazily, you point to the right. The lone bunk bed that initially occupied the space is tucked there, ready for the roommate you never thought would arrive. 

After three years, you had debated on getting rid of it, maybe donating it to the Hermes cabin. Gods know they need it but you guess keeping it was the right choice. 

“Inside voice only. No laughing, no whining, no groaning, no screaming, and especially, no crying.” 

The boy’s face falters into a slight frown. Your unblinking, emotionless face had settled into his awareness. For the first time since he’s arrived, he looks down at his feet. “Okay.” 

Your vision follows his movements as the boy retreats to his side of the room. His suitcase drags across the floor, making a wretched sound and it shoots irritation straight into your chest. 

Harsh words threaten to spill from your lips but they get caught at the back of your throat.

At least he’s compliant, you consider. Better bubbly and compliant than bubbly and stubborn. 

★・・・・・・★

“Psst.”

Did you imagine it? The sound was so faint and quick, you weren’t sure if it even happened. 

Voices in passing weren’t foreign to you. The occasional energy likes to linger around. 

If it was that, you refused to spare a single movement to signal you heard anything at all. A bothersome ghost wasn’t really in your plans tonight. 

There wasn’t a twitch in your face or a pause in your breathing that gave you away. And as you do every night, you remain laid on your back, hands lightly folded and rested in the middle of your stomach. 

“PSST.” 

Great. 

The second time was filled with so much urgency you couldn’t conclude it as a trick of the ear. Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. And it wasn’t from the possibility that when opening your eyes, you may find an entity looming over you. Honestly, you wished that’s what you were expecting. At least then, you’d be more interested. 

But no, you knew the sound came from no one other than the pest who sleeps across the room. Even now, you are fully aware of his small presence beside your bed. 

You had to give him credit. At no point did you hear him approach.

A silent stride just like yours? Maybe you actually are related. 

“What?”

Nico tenses up, his hand flings back to his side. He was just questioning if you were even alive, judging from your barely rising chest. Not sure what to do after your lack of response, he thought giving you a little poke would get a reaction but from your tone just now, he was glad he didn’t get to test that out. “T-the statue…” Nico didn’t dare look over, gaze set on your blank face. “What about it?” “It blinked.” 

Nico rubs his sweaty palms on his pajama pants, feeling the looming presence of Hades's statue. 

The past few nights, while lying in his bed, he kept returning to the same conclusion. He couldn’t be the only one who thought sleeping in a room with a giant statue was kinda creepy. 

Sure, it was just stone, but at times, it felt like it was looking at him. He thought he was just imagining it at first. Bianca did say he had a habit of spooking himself out but it didn’t stop him from sleeping with the sheets over his head. 

Tonight, however, amongst the deliriousness of waking up, he made the mistake of looking over. His vision was hazy, but he was sure of what he saw. The statue had blinked. Clean and quick as if it was supposed to do that. It was more than he’s ever seen you blink, and he’s been with you for almost a week. 

“It does that sometimes.”  

“What?” Nico’s voice was laced with so much emotion you could imagine what face he was making. Behind your eyelids, you envisioned the scared face Mr. D made you identify recently in therapy. It was so comedic to you, you almost smiled. 

“Go back to sleep.” A whine immediately leaves Nico’s lips, and your hand moves up, arm bent at the elbow, your pointer finger in the air. “No whining.” “But—” “Still whining,” you point out, and Nico remains quiet for a moment. Taking consideration of his silent movements earlier, you assumed he retreated to bed, but as he cleared his throat, you wished you could roll your eyes with them closed. 

“I’m scared.”  

“And what do you want me to do about that?” 

“I don’t know. When I’m scared, my sister—” 

“I’m not your sister.” 

Nico frowns but remains in his spot unmoving. As the seconds passed, your awareness of his presence started to irk you.

“Ugh.” 

The tired glare on your face makes Nico cower, and you sling your legs to the side. Another sigh leaves you and you march over to his side of the room. He waits as you rip the fitted sheet from the top bunk and throw it over the statue. 

“There. Happy? He can’t stare at you if he can’t see you.” 

“Now it just looks like a ghost,” Nico shifts, fear still on his face.

There’s a smack as your palm meets your forehead. A child of Hades scared of a ghost? You were about to tell him to get used to it but before you can nag him an idea graces your mind. 

Quickly, you walk over to your desk, hands searching for a black marker. Once in your grasp, you drag a chair to the stone and stand on it. 

Two circles for the eyes and one smiling open mouth. 

Moving away to see your drawings, you decide it was a refreshing sight compared to the usually stoic face of the god. 

“Better?” you ask, tone still bored as you cap the marker.

Nico’s eyes light up, a smile growing wide on his face. Who would be scared of a happy ghost? He nods brightly, and you make your way down, eyes rolling at the entire situation. “Go to sleep,” you command, and Nico nods, more willing than he was a few minutes ago. As you both return to the covers, the boy glances across the room one more time. “Good night,” he calls, and you stare at him for a moment. 

He always says it despite you never saying it back. Under your gaze, he waits expectantly, but it never returns. Just as every night, you lie down without a word. 

★・・・・・・★

Capture the flag isn’t your cup of tea. 

In the summers, you never participated. The bright sun, the humidity, it all made you want to claw your skin off. 

Usually, you get out of it but Mr. D pointed out there was no reason not to participate since most of what you hate about it isn’t a problem this time of year. One comment from him and Chiron takes it upon himself to ensure you attend. 

You hated it. 

Forced to strategize with Thalia and Percy, you are reminded the weather wasn’t the only thing you despised. It was dealing with everyone else too.

"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You take defense."

"Oh." Percy hesitated. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"

"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you've had more

practice at defense. What do you think, Y/n?” 

Your gaze flickers between the two waiting expectantly for your opinion. 

The tension between them has been something else since they’ve come back from retrieving Nico and losing Annabeth in the process. It’s not like there wasn’t any tension before but right now, you can smell the power struggle and it stinks. 

“I don’t care. Argue amongst yourselves.” 

With that, you turn on your heels, looking for the boy who surprisingly isn’t standing behind you like a shadow. Your eyes search the crowd for a few seconds until you spot what looks like a pile of floating armor next to the Stoll’s. 

A small sigh leaves your lips. Whoever gave him that definitely is setting him up and judging by the poorly contained laughs of the Stoll’s, you can guess who’s rooting for Nico’s downfall. 

The boy, painfully unaware of this, just beams at you, too excited for the game ahead. Lazily, you make your way towards him and immediately, he’s bouncing happily, his mouth ready to bombard you with questions. 

Your palm rises before he could and he freezes, obeying your silent command. “You need to tighten that.” 

He looks down at himself, his helmet swinging down into his eyes and he struggles to pull it away. “Which part?” 

“All of it,” you snap. The sadness that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t have affected you but you straightened up, closing your eyes to recollect yourself. “We’ll get you better armor afterward.” 

Nico nods, gaze softening as you adjust the straps of his armor. You tug on them as much as you can, jerking the boy left to right with the movement. 

Once every strap couldn’t be tightened anymore, you step back to take a look. It didn’t do much but at least his plate is snug against his chest.

“Okay kid, stay out of the way and be careful with that thing.” Nico looks down at his sword, which is probably too heavy for him. “We need to get you another weapon too. Gods, who did your orientation?” 

Nico points over at the Stoll’s who are occupied with other campers. Sending a glare in their direction you huff, “Of course.” 

"Heroes!" Chiron calls, swiftly getting everyone’s attention. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

“Do I get magic items!?” Nico screeches causing you to cringe. Whipping your gaze in his direction, he cowers sheepishly, his eyes filled with hesitant apology.  “No. Remember what I said. Stay—” “Stay out of the way and be careful with my sword.” Nico finishes your sentence and he smiles at the evident distaste in your expression. 

Your eyes flicker along his frame. “And don’t get hurt.” 

★・・・・・・★

Nico, to no one’s surprise, got hurt. 

Honestly, you couldn’t be upset at him, it’s not his fault he got caught in a spell cast. 

A certain Circe camper did a fine job at missing her every target, leaving Nico standing in the outfield like a giant bullseye. The force alone sent him back a few feet and he slid across the field like a rag doll for a few more feet afterward.

As he lay there limp in shock, you genuinely thought he died. Before you could wield the ground to swallow up his attacker, he groaned and stumbled back on his feet. 

Lucky for her, disappointing for you. You haven’t gotten around to doing that trick in a while. 

“Well, you definitely have blunt force trauma injuries, everywhere,” Fletcher says, removing his hands from Nico’s abdomen. The boy reclined in the cot flinches at the bruises already forming along his ribs. 

It looked pretty bad. So much so that you decided it would be cruel to tell him to stop crying.

“But you don’t have internal bleeding in your lungs so at least you won’t drown in your own life source.” 

Despite the smile Fletcher flashes at Nico, it doesn’t affect the look of horror on his face. 

“Nothing Ambrosia and Nectar can’t fix. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Fletcher helps the small boy sit up in the cot. He passes him a small cup of Nectar and orders him to drink up while he gets what he needs for the sling Nico’s arm will be in for a little bit. 

A sniffle leaves the boy as he observes the drink he’s left with. “What does it taste like?” “It depends on the person,” you sit back in your chair. “Usually tastes like something nostalgic, a favorite food or drink. You won’t know until you try it.” 

Nico nods, hesitantly taking a sip. As the flavors settle on his tongue, his eyes progressively widen. Next thing you know, he’s swallowing it like he hasn’t had a meal in days. 

“It tastes like the almond cookies they had at the Lotus Casino!” 

You nod in response, having some memory of Nico telling you about the Casino he and his sister lived at for a while. He’s told you plenty about it, you just weren’t listening most of the time. 

“I liked those the most because it reminded me of the cookies my mom would buy us.” 

Nico looks down at the cup, his smile faltering by the second. There’s a shadow clouding over his orbs and you quirk an eyebrow. The sadness overtaking his features looked strange. Sure you’ve seen him upset but you knew enough to recognize this expression as anguish. 

“What is it?” Your words came out more monotone than you intended. Shifting in your seat, you wondered why you even asked. Vulnerability wasn’t really something you sought after. It puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I was just wondering if Bianca would taste the same thing… but she never ate the cookies with me.” 

A hum leaves your lips. You don’t know much about that sister of his but you knew two things: first, you were here while he was hurt and she wasn’t. Second, her absence made Nico upset. 

“I understand.” Your vision is set on the small window beside you. Set on the fields of campers ahead, you ignore Nico’s burning stare. “I don’t like the taste of my nectar or ambrosia.” “Why?” “The flavors remind me too much of things I want to forget. Your sister probably didn’t eat those cookies for the same reason. It’s too much. Too many things tied to the things you like the most.” 

Nico’s silent, staring at the paper cup in his hands as if he was searching for something. 

“Nico, there’s one thing you need to know.” He averts his gaze over to you. “You’ll make friends, you’ll have lovers, you’ll have family but at the end of the day, the only person you truly have is yourself.” 

The boy shifts in his place, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t let people steal parts of yourself from you. They’re going to disappoint you, expect it, and don’t be sad about it.” 

Silence followed somber and stuffy silence. For once, you were glad Fletcher returned in all of his child of Apollo gleam. He was better at cheering Nico up than you were, that’s for sure. 

★・・・・・・★

“What do you mean ‘He’s gone?’” Percy slowly retreats from your advances. Twice already, he’s stared at the glowing eyes of a child of Hades and the second time was even more intimidating. 

“He just disappeared,” Percy stutters out. “It looked like shadows took him, and then he was gone.” 

Schist. You didn’t even know the little rat could shadow travel. By now, he could be anywhere. You’ve been on him about training, but he still had that childish clumsiness to him. His chances of survival would be out of pure luck. 

A groan leaves your lips, knowing you’d have to go find him. If it were anyone else, you would have let them be, but this unfamiliar urgency in your chest wouldn’t allow it. You had to find and drag him back by his ear if you had to. 

Your eyes roll at the son of Poseidon, and you turn on your heels without a word. So much drama because of that sister of his. 

Rushing down the stairs of the pavilion, you conjure the shadows to form a portal that’ll lead you straight into the forest. 

Di Angelo, you better be alive when I find you. 

★・・・・・・★

How does a 10-year-old with short legs get so much distance? 

After hours of searching and instigating some fights with monsters, he was nowhere to be found. Concluding that, maybe, hopefully, he found his way out of the forest, you have to settle with waiting for him to return. If he returns.

Tired legs take you up the porch steps and you shrug off your coat the moment you step through the door. As the warmth graces your chilled skin, a floorboard creaks.

“Nico?” 

“Y/n?” Your name comes out of his mouth like a desperate plea as he reveals himself out of the shadows. With rosy, tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes, Nico bolts in your direction, and for a moment, you think he’s going to attack you. 

It would be a bold move. Though, with his speed, he could get a good hit but he ended up doing something much worse. 

He hugged you. 

His small frame flings into you, short arms grasping your waist as if his life depended on it. 

“Percy broke his promise,” he cries, hot tears running down his cheeks and dampening your shirt. “Bianca,” he shutters. “He told me she died.” His frame shivers harder, the action almost too violent for his frame. You weren’t sure how but his grip tightened, “What am I going to do?” Get over it. 

The hostile thought was a knee-jerk reaction. Your mouth was about to relay the message but you stopped yourself, the words getting caught in your throat. 

The logical answer didn’t feel right. Why didn’t it feel right? 

Suddenly you’re aware of the sunken feeling in your chest. Its foreign nature made it hard to distinguish whether it hurt or if it was discomfort. 

This is odd.

Nico cries and cries, and by now, the clothing of your shirt is sticking damp to your skin. The longer you stood there, stuck on what to say next, you felt an urgency as if your response was timed. 

Rarely were you lost for words. Actually, you can’t recall a time when you have but right now you stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water. “You stay here,” you say abruptly. Nico pulls away, eyes glistening in the ray of moonlight seeping into the room. He’s so small. 

Not that he’s not small on any other day. His narrow shoulders droop and turn into themselves from the weight of the news. He looked fragile, searching for something other than his grief and he’s searching for it in you. 

It wasn’t often someone came to confide in you. Your advice was always too abrasive, and cold, and never did you have the urge to give something different. 

That’s what made this moment so strange. As Nico waits expectantly, you can’t find it in yourself to disregard him. 

“You stay here,” you repeat, the words delivered before your brain could process them.“And you train, and make friends, and find your own way around life.” Nico frowns, sleeve wiping his nose. Amongst his sadness, something flickers in his eyes. “Stay here with you?” With you. 

You couldn’t begin to decipher what that question made you feel. Forget the question, its delivery was hopeful and that surprised you the most. 

The feelings were almost overwhelming and before it completely flooded your senses, you shoved it to the side.

“Who else?” You clear your throat in an effort to get yourself together. “Is there anyone else who lives here besides me? Does the statue count too?” The question was genuine but something about it made Nico crack a smile.

“Anyways, you’ll see her again.” You shrug, stepping out of his loose embrace. 

“I will?” “We’re the children of the dead. We can just find her.” Find her so I can kill her again.

Nico sniffles, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Stop crying,” you blurt out, and the boy blinks, face pink. “Crying doesn’t fix anything,” is all you say before returning to your side of the room. 

Nico swallows, trying to suppress the tears. 

You were right. Crying doesn’t fix anything but even though it was true, his emotions were all too much for him. Sniffling softly and wiping his face with his sleeve, he retreats to bed. “Good night,” he says, voice quivering. 

Nico crawls into the covers, the fatigue hitting him the moment he rests against the spring mattress. Unexpecting, he wraps himself up, eyes shut tight in hopes he’ll be asleep soon. “Good night.” 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow. He finds some strength to lift his head just enough for you to be in his line of vision. Blinking in surprise, he swears he saw a smile on your face. It wasn’t teasing, or happy. It was comforting, as slight as it was. It wasn’t much but to Nico, it made him feel like he’d be okay. 

Without another word, you slid into your covers and went to sleep. 

★・・・・・・★

“Where’s the brat?” With crossed arms and a look of determination, you stood authoritatively at the double doors of your father’s dining room. 

The god sits at the very end of the grand table, skeleton butlers wait on either end of the room to serve him. On the polished mahogany wood, the bulbs of the many crystal chandeliers lined up across the ceiling reflect like ornaments. As Hades wipes the sides of his lips with a cloth napkin, the side of his mouth quirks as he catches Nico peeking behind your back like a child behind a mother’s skirt.

Since when have you been maternal? 

“I’m sorry, who?” Your father asks with fake confusion. The smile on his face already gave you a headache. You weren’t here to play games, you meant business. 

“You know who.”

Hades clears his throat and his eyes flicker over to Nico. Quickly, the small boy retreats nervously, eyes set on your back. “I don’t know where your sister is, boy.” 

“I don’t believe you,” you cut in. Nico wasn’t going to speak, the boy practically shivering in his father’s presence. Even as he refrains from confrontation, he’s in awe at your comfort towards the god. 

“There’s dead people in and out of this place. You think I would know?” Hades asks and a hum leaves your lips.

“I would think you’d at least keep track of your kids but if you’re going to be this useless to me, I’ll find her myself.” 

“Wait.” 

You halt turning on your heels and raise an eyebrow. There was a moment of disbelief, your father helping and not making everything so difficult for you, for once? You wonder who could have possibly granted this miracle. 

“She’s somewhere down here,” Hades says and you wish your expression could get straighter. “Wow, I would have never figured that out. Thanks.” Grabbing Nico’s sleeve, you begin dragging him out of the room. 

“She’s not in the meadows, I checked. I don’t think her life has been judged either but Charon said he rowed her in. I can feel she’s close.” 

You sigh. Finding her is proving to be more of a challenge than you thought. By now, you would think she’d be judged and categorized wherever the judges saw fit. However, from the dead ends, you’ve stumbled upon so far, you consider that she doesn’t want to be found. As annoying as it is, the chance to prove you can find her was enough to get you to keep going, “Noted,” you mumble, already deciding where you will look next. “Close the door on your way out!” “No.”

★・・・・・・★

“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder. 

“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence. 

“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek. 

Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading. 

“Help me!” He was saying without a word. 

The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister. “I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground. “Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tarturus. Last chance.” 

Atrius wails at your threat, the sound was so hysteric you almost missed his confession. “She’s hiding in Lady Persephone’s garden, amongst the pomegranate trees!” 

Nico flinches when you whip around. Already he was unsettled by your interrogation methods but nothing prepared him for your face.

You were smiling. Your eyes looked lit up. 

Not gracing him a look, you walked right past him. From his surprise, his brain never gave his body the signal to move. Instead, he averts his attention to a distraught Atrius whose more than relieved he finally got you out of his bones. 

Right as he’s about to look away, Nico jumps in his skin as the skeleton looks right at him once again. It was only then did he find the courage to move. Walking backward, he smiles sheepishly. “Um… thank you,” Nico’s tone is apologetic. Across the courtyard laid Atrius’s leg and the boy takes a step in that direction but is halted by the sound of his name. “You’re coming or not?” You ask him, foot tapping with impatience. 

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nico forgets about retrieving the guard's limb. “Sorry about your leg!” He shouts behind him, hoping the apology was soothing enough as he joins your side. 

The young boy stares at the back of your sneakers as you make your way through the underworld. Already he’s seen some things that spooked him out too much. This was like walking through a horror maze for him. 

For you though, he notices you’re more comfortable around here than you did at camp. Your usually confident stride had purpose and authority. He wonders if he’ll ever walk through here the same way you do one day. A part of him hopes he does.

“Alright.” Nico halts, almost bumping right into you as you stop in your tracks. “We walk through here silently. Watch where you’re stepping, if you crush one of Persephone’s plants, I can’t help you.” 

The boy’s face contorted with fear. “What do you mean you can’t help me?” He couldn’t decipher the look you flashed in his direction but it sent your message well enough. Don’t step on one of her flowers and you won’t find out. 

Nico’s small nod is enough to get you moving. With silent and slow steps, you walk along the paved pathway toward the cluster of trees in the back. 

It hadn’t settled into Nico’s awareness that his sister was hiding. You could tell. He was still hopeful and excited to see her and you can imagine if he knew, he wouldn’t be happy about it. 

You’re not happy about it, that’s for sure. What even was her problem? If there was anything Nico deserved, it was to see her before she gets sent to the meadows or decides to reincarnate. 

Once you approach the trees, you shuffle through them. You’re thankful Nico’s naturally taken the role of your shadow because he mimics your sneaking, staying out of sight with you. 

He probably thinks your caution is due to Persephone arriving at any minute. You feel this strange tightness in your chest, he really has no idea you’re trying to sneak up on his sister so she doesn’t have the chance to run.

Right as the thought passes, you catch sight of something moving in the trees. Locks of brown hair wisp through them and the pulse in your neck picks up. It seems you’re not going to avoid a chase. 

Nico barely had time to catch up as you bolt through a straight diagonal through the trees. You admire her audacity to try and get away. The smile that stretches across your face is from amusement alone. 

As Bianca makes a sharp right, you gather the shadows at the tree's stumps and will them to consume your body. Nico blinks and suddenly you’re gone. His quick steps come to a stop as he looks around, trying to catch any sight of you. Then he hears a cry of pain and he moves fast in that direction. 

The only thing on his mind was the possibility you got hurt. Even if you were in your father’s territory, were there still monsters that could attack you? Even worse, what if you stepped on Lady Persephone’s plants? If you can’t help him in the scenario he did, what was he gonna do? 

His pace quickens as he hears another cry and finally, he bursts through a wall of vines. 

Still clouded by his concern, his brain barely processes what he stumbled upon. There you were, fingers grasping tight at his sister’s ear. Bianca groans and struggles in your pinching grasp and you look up at Nico with a gleam, like a fisherman who just got his catch of the day. “Got her.” 

“Nico?”

Bianca freezes at the sight of her brother. There’s a silence that follows and you’re surprised Nico didn’t immediately bombard her with questions. 

The girl straightens up once you let go of her and as your arm returns to your side, you catch the tears brimming Nico’s waterline.

Yeah, this is when you clock out. Your work here is done. 

“I’ll… wait for you over there,” you point through the trees and at the meadow of flowers that wasn’t too far. It’s enough distance to be an earshot away. 

Nico nods, his eyes unmoving from his sister. 

Once you’ve shadow traveled to your spot, you didn’t dare look in their direction. With your eyes planted on the flowers, you wait for Nico to return. 

The boy didn’t take too long which left you lost for words. He didn’t look happy when he met you in the garden. His eyes held a feeling a part of you understood. 

“I want to go home.” He frowns. 

Home. You didn’t even consider camp a home and you’ve been there for three years. 

“Okay.” Your voice was right above a whisper. 

Whatever happened back there was the end for him, the last time he would see her. Knowing how that felt, you waited. Just a moment, maybe two. If Nico had any reservations or second thoughts, you gave him time. When nothing came, you hoped whatever happened, he’ll find peace in it. 

The shadow gathered slowly, first at your feet then at your legs and soon the two of you were traveling through blurred shadows and harsh winds.

★・・・・・・★

“Who did this?” You weren’t sure if the streaks of water on Nico’s face were from his eyes or the toilet water soaked in his hair. 

The boy sniffles, cheeks and nose flushed from his embarrassment. After the incident, he rushed back to the Hades Cabin to wallow in self-pity but his assumption you wouldn’t be there was wrong. He didn’t want to admit what happened, scared he would disappoint you for clearly losing this battle.

His mouth opens to answer but nothing comes out. He considers lying but as you raise an eyebrow, he grows too anxious to come up with one. 

“Nico,” you say his name firmly and the frown on his face deepens. “It was Clarisse and her siblings, they-” he gurgles out through his watery whines and you sigh. “They…, I-” 

“Breathe.” You kneel to his height and take a deep breath, waiting for him to follow. He does, his chest filling with air and he releases it shakily. 

“They surrounded me in the bathroom and Clarisse shoved my face in the toilet.” 

His lip quivers as he recalls the memory. Nico’s eyes flicker across your hardening features and you rise from your spot. “Go clean up,” you demand, already heading to the door. 

“What are you gonna do?” “I’m going to fix it.” 

★・・・・・・★

Gravel crunches under your shoes, without a single weapon you persist into the camp’s arena. Clangs of swords and grunts could be heard from outside of the entrance and as you made your way through the doors, there were the Ares’s campers sweating and panting from their already hard day of training. 

Clarisse stands there authoritatively, the swing of the grand door grabbing her attention and the snug look on her face had set off a slight rage in your chest. 

You were ready to wipe it off. If only she knew what she had coming. “Did Nico tell on us?” One of her brothers asks mockingly, your presence already known to the entire group. They stood, waiting for a fight as they make no effort to sheath their swords. 

A smile almost graces your lips before you could even execute your plan.

“His big sister is fighting his battles for him.” They laugh and joke at your brother’s expense and something snaps in your mind. 

The ground suddenly sinks into itself, and Clarisse and her siblings stumble to the side in confusion. Before they realized what was happening, there was no chance to run. 

A sinkhole, perfectly round and deep enough to trap them forms right under their feet. They roll and drop to the bottom, coughing at the gravel waterfall surrounding them. 

You hear their shouts and complaints and you make your way to the edge. Looking down at them, you ignore their demands to be let out.

“No one messes with my little brother.” 

As if on cue, there’s a screech in the distance and it immediately fills their expressions with dread. A lopsided smirk appears on your lips and soon the shadows of massive wings appear overhead. 

You whisper a demand to attack in ancient greek and the harpies swoop down with a call like a battle cry. There’s a collective panic of your victims and a laugh leaves you, watching as they spear their swords in the air at every charge towards them. 

Calmly leaving the chaos you’ve caused behind, you find an audience. Unaware of their bewildered expressions, not because of the scene but at the joyful smile on your face, you hoped you’ve sent a message.

Be nice my brother or else.

masterlists

We begin in the waking world, which humanity insists on calling the "real world". As if your dreams have no effect upon the choices you make. You mortals go about your works, your loves, your wars, as if your waking lives are all that matter. But there is another life which awaits you when you close your eyes, and enter my realm. For I am the King of Dreams, and Nightmares.

Dream of the Endless in The Sandman (2022-)

@usergif 1 year celebration: shuffle challenge day 3: free choice | overlay | character/person profile

[ID in alt text]

Fanfiction writers watching the slow trickle of Views or Likes on their fics just waiting and hoping for a comment or reblog.

Always grateful for Likes, even more thankful for Reblogs, but Comments (even hidden in tags) can turbo charge and power a writer through even the worst of blocks. Or at the very least turn a mundane day into a fantastic one.

Best case: When I see someone "Like" my fic and then immediately get notified that they've become a "Follower" (Wait, has that even happened?), I'm gonna be just like, "Screw sleep--I'm staying up to write more for this New Bestie Whom I Haven't Even Met."

Dear Readers, please don't underestimate how valuable your comments are to writers. Even if it seems trite or generic, or took you 3 seconds to write or has 1 typo for every 10 words. It is always appreciated and could be the reason someone sits down to complete 1,000 words that day. With little effort, you can become a starving (literally or figuratively) artist's muse.

Klaus Mikaelson- Chaotic Evil

This is so cute and fluffy.

wanda maximoff x black!male!reader.

reader gets badly hurt during a mission and wanda nurtures him back to help. to show how grateful he is, he finds all of her favorite skovian snacks and/or stuffed plushies. just total fluff and soft smut if wanted.

𝐀 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘛𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘖𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦”

Inspo: Etta James - A Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Black!Male!reader

Summary: Dancing around feelings would only last until Sunday, the start of a new week...

Warnings: none (very tiny bit of angst) because this shit is adorable

Words: 2822

“How’s he been doing?” Natasha’s voice gently pulled Wanda from her thoughts. Blinking rapidly and turning her gaze to the rose-coloured-haired woman. Finding the enchanting assassin to already be watching her with an inquisitive look in her eye. This was something Wanda should be used to since she confessed to a few unannounced feelings she felt toward a specific man. “Been up since he got back from the mission?”

Wanda tilted her head slightly, eyes looking toward the ceiling. Fingertips gently danced along the exterior of her glass filled with a wine that had appeared in the kitchen one day. “He’s stubborn. Doesn’t like the help even when I could knock him over with a tiny press of my finger to his stomach,” Wanda explained, lips slowly curving into a tiny smile. “But his physical therapy has been going well. His skin has been healing slowly, so he’s still very sensitive to the touch.”

When you came back from your mission with Steve, Wanda had been by your side the moment you the Quinjet landed on the helipad. She remembers the sight of your uniform charred with the fabric of your sleeves burnt, revealing your skin that had been caught in some type of fire or explosion. And then she remembered you holding a charming smile when she met your tired gaze. But that had been swiftly followed by you collapsing and Wanda using her powers to stop your fall.

Natasha hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “When he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. he was a pain in the ass. But now, dare I say, he’s slightly easier to work with,” she said. “But with you nursing him back to health, I am sure he’ll soften up some more. Even if it’s just with you.”

“Speaking of Y/n-” Wanda pulled back the sleeve of her denim jacket, looking down at her watch. “-I need to grab him really quick.”

“The rest of the team will be spending out at the Jackpot by the time you get back,” Natasha told her. “So, if you want to come out after you bring him back, then swing by.”

“I don’t think I can,” Wanda sighed, grabbing her keys from one of the drawers. “Y/n’s has to eat, take his painkillers, and then try to sleep. All those steps involve my help which I am fine to do.”

When she heard a quiet snicker, she looked up and found Natasha hiding her lips behind her glass. Making her crack a smile, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you giggling about?”

Still taking a sip, Natasha hummed with a wave of her hand. “It just seems like you two are together already from the way you talk,” she pointed out. “It’s adorable how much you care about him. Like you two are an old married couple.”

Wanda felt the heat from her body rise and nestle in her face. In the weeks of Wanda helping nurse you back to health, there had been some form of trust and care felt from both sides. Which made Wanda only want to get you back to the best state she could. If that meant driving you around, making you food, using her powers to help you go to sleep when your burns became irritated by the bed, she did it all for you. And maybe that was just her being naive and allowing her feelings to become apparent in her acts of kindness.

“Ok, I’m going to go now. Have a good night with the team, Nat.” Wanda quickly rushed out of the kitchen, hoping to avoid and run away from the older woman’s statement.

But Natasha sat there, a smirk etched on her lips as she shook her head. “Love birds.”

Arriving at the physical therapy that you’d been going to for about two months, Wanda stood in the lobby of the physical therapy office. Through the double doors, she could see you talking to a nurse helping you recover from your injuries. In the mission, you’d suffered a broken light leg with extreme 4-degree burns that left you bedridden for weeks before you started taking things slow with your movements. Wanda had been there for every step you took, holding your hands and helping you move through your room until you eventually were given crutches to move on your own.

But with also being able to see you, she could hear your thoughts, and theft undoubtedly put a smile on her face. Able to listen in on the pure boredom running through your head and how you just wanted to be gone and back at the tower drinking some coffee and watching a movie. Yet, on the surface, you wore an interested look on your face that could get by the nurse who was likely explaining your exercises on Tuesday. But you could care less. You just wanted to enjoy your Sunday.

When you were finally let go by the nurse, you hobbled your way over with a deadpan. Able to see the amused look on Wanda’s face through the glass. Entering the lobby, you glared. “Not one word, Maximoff.”

“But you look adorable when you’re grouchy,” she teased, earning a groan from you. She opened the front door, allowing you to go first before she followed. “When we get back, you can just enjoy whatever TV show you’re going to watch. I’ll make you some coffee.”

God, tonight is going to be amazing

“Just remember that you owe me after this.” Wanda looked at you, finding you inhaled deeply, exhaling heavily.

“Get out of my head, Wanda,” you muttered. “Don’t need you poking around at the stuff that you shouldn’t.”

Since you met her in that old base that housed Klaue and Ultron, she had poked her way into your thoughts. Made memories rise to the surface and remind you of the darkness that clouded it. That was the last and only time you would ever allow her to do such a thing. But now, her being a part of the team and taking care of you, your leniency with her use had wavered. If it meant putting your mind at ease before you slept, then you allowed it. If she wanted to poke around and hear your sarcastic comments when Tony went on rambling about one of his projects, you allowed it since it made her laugh. But to access memories and put you in a state where you had trouble seeing the differences between history and the present, you would never allow it.

“New nurse,” Wanda pointed out, hearing you hum in acknowledgement. “Cassandra couldn’t come in today?”

Opening the passenger door, you sighed. “Yeah, she had some business to take care of today,” you explained. “Her apprentice took care of me today. Not a terrible girl, just was way too thorough than I’d like.”

Slipping into the seat, Wanda leaned down and smirked. “You don’t like anything that doesn’t appeal to your moral compass.” And before you could protest, she shut the door on your face. Silencing you as you exhaled heavily and leaned back in the seat. Glancing over when Wanda got inside, not waiting to pull out of the parking lot and make her way toward the Avengers tower.

The two of you sat in silence for the majority of the ride. That familiar comfort falling over the two of you that needn’t be accompanied by any conversation. It was the beauty of the relationship you two had. There wasn’t any need for words when the presence of one another was enough to relax. And even when you got to the tower, the two of you didn’t speak. Just standing by one another in the elevator till the doors open with the two of you stepping out into the lounge.

Truthfully, Natasha wasn’t exactly entirely wrong in her statement earlier. Wanda was beginning to see the relationship you and she had as something natural. Something that didn’t need to be made official when your guys’ words and actions spoke more than a title connecting the two of you could. For you, even when you were a belligerent fool, you still showed your care and love toward the witch. Because every day when you woke up to the sound of her soothing voice, you felt like there was something to get up to. Like there was something calling and urging you to get started with your day.

Exiting the elevator, you followed Wanda toward the kitchen. “The rest of the team went out to drink. So, you won’t have to deal with any of them for the majority of the night.” Wanda tossed the keys onto the island, moving toward the coffee machine. “I can make you a cup of coffee if you want to go get changed into something more comfortable.”

Wanda looked back at you, seeing you lean your crutches against the island and carefully begin to move through the kitchen. No word was spoken with your actions of grabbing ingredients. And when you came by her side, you placed your hand on her lower back, smiling. “I’m going to need you to scoot over, darling.”

The nickname struck an anvil in Wanda’s heart, the sparks of a burning metal resting on her cheeks She quickly stepped away and allowed you to grab the bottle of red wine she and Natasha had been drinking hours ago. You grabbed two glasses and began to pour. “You can sit and relax,” you told her. “I’m going to make you dinner.”

She wanted to protest and use her powers to sit you down, but she knew what that would result in. Likely you ignore her for the rest of the night or an argument starts over her actions. Either or, she didn’t want to deal with that, and the offer was too good to let down. Especially with her curiosity brewing with the wonder of what scheme you were brewing.

So, she took the glass you extended to her and sat on the island. Legs crossed as you moved with an elegance only a chef could have. Yet, she often needed to remind herself that all her cooking techniques had been from you. Because before you became gifted or cursed with the super soldier serum, you were chef down in the streets of New York. If she remembers correctly, you worked in Hell's Kitchen right next door to where one of your lawyer friends worked.

It often became hard for her to think of you ever being anything else besides a hero. On the battlefield, you were a brutal human being. In the way, you disposed of the opposition or in your moral compass and what you believed was right. So, seeing you cut up these carrots with speed and precision was new every time she sees it.

Glancing up from the cutting board, you met Wanda’s gaze. Her hands zeroed in on your hands, lips slightly parted, and a layered look in her eyes of something you could identify. Making you smirk, clearing your throat. The sound made her blink rapidly, looking up at you inquiringly. “It amazes me that I don’t need powers to understand what you are thinking, Wanda.”

“It’s not like that,” she defended, biting her bottom lip. “It’s just hard to think that you used to do this. After seeing the things you’ve done in the field-”

“I did those things to keep the team and world safe,” you interjected softly, dumping the carrots into the pot of boiling water. “Everything I will do has a reason to it. So, although I understand what you are trying to say, it doesn’t mean I have forgotten what makes me human.”

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, head slightly tilting as she stares at you. “I think even when I’ve seen you kill people you were human, Y/n.” Her words make you falter for a moment, a moment too long that it allowed her to see that her words indeed had an effect on you.

Pursing your lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat and looked back at her. “Thanks, love.”

From there, a blanket of silence rested over the both of you in that comforting and warm way from before. Wanda watched you cook and you soaked up the warm feeling in your chest from being her center of attention. And somewhere in that time, she left to get out of some clothes. Coming back in some shorts with one of your shirts that hid said shorts. It was an adorable sight that you could get used to if things played well in your favour.

But she continued to watch you scoop the food from inside the pot and pour it into the bowls. Grabbing a spoon, and placing it in the bowl, you walked toward the girl and handed it to her. “Thank you.” She smiled, taking hold of the spoon and diving into the dish. It was a soup with some meat broth involved in it. And the smell was so familiar it was hard for Wanda to not feel a warm sense of contentment. And when she placed the hot liquid between her lips, her eyes flickered shut. A deep hum emitted from the depths of her chest as she placed the bowl down.

You had watched and couldn’t shake the smile from your lips. “It’s Borscht,” you stated, gaining the girl’s attention. You shrugged, “I thought you deserved something close to home instead of some random dish we Americans have. And I know you don’t like talking about Sokovia, but I feel like you deserve the little things that remind you of home because we all deserve that right.”

Wanda chewed on the inside of her cheek, the stinging sensation behind her eyes making her blink rapidly. Leaning her face into one of her hands, hiding her features from your curious gaze. And you were left in silence before she finally sat up, sniffling and revealing her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” she wept, trying to smile, but the emotions are overwhelming. Causing her face to twist and turn in many expressions of pain and happiness. “Thank you, Y/n.”

The least she expected was to feel your arms coil around her and pull her close. A hand comes to the back of her head and pulls her into your chest. She didn’t hesitate to melt into your body, hands falling to your waist as she cried in your chest.

Although the vulnerability wasn’t new to both of you, this sure was. You hadn’t seen her cry in months since Pietro passed away and Sokovia was destroyed. It’d been months since then and you felt like you might’ve unintentionally brought back some bad memories with the good ones.

Except, when she pulled away from your chest, looking up at you with those teary eyes, you felt like your thoughts had been answered. And when her hands held your face, you felt all worries wash away. Especially when she pressed her lips to yours, replacing the coldness of fear with the warmth of love. Making you seek it deeper, pressing your lips firmer against hers and leaning into her slightly.

The kiss was brief, but it was fulfilling for what it was. Breaking apart only a breath away with your foreheads resting against one another. Wanda licked her lips, letting out a shaky exhale, tips of her fingers gently caressing your jaw and cheek. “I love you.”

You couldn’t help the smile to break out on your lips. “And I love you too.” You pressed a kiss to her lips, to which she reciprocated and sat in this close embrace for a few moments. At least until you jutted your thumb over your shoulder. “So, I may have also had Cassandra grab me some Sokovia candy today.”

That made her eyes widen as you motioned toward one of the cupboards. “I snuck them in when you went to get changed–Which I want to add, you look adorable in my shirts.” You smiled when the girl stared at the colour packaging of the candy. Her lips parted in an open smile, looking up at you with a chuckle.

“I thought you said she didn’t work today?” Wanda reminded.

A soft laugh fell from your lips. “Wanda, will all those powers, you still can’t tell if I am telling the truth or not,” you said. “I convinced her to give her mentor a chance to get experience whilst she did me a favour. Who wouldn’t help out an Avenger to win over the girl of his dreams.”

Wanda felt those imaginary strings pull at the corner of her lips, forming a large smile. “You are full of surprises, Y/n.” Pressing her lips against yours, standing to her feet, she hummed. “I love it.”