#spectrophobias

[furysburn]

Luke Survives AU description notes:

Hair is more dishwater brown than blonde & he lets it grow longer, curling around his ears and the back of his neck. Ironically, looks even more like his dad. (He hates it but it's fine or whatever)

Eye that was golden is now a lighter blue than the other but otherwise unaffected.

The place where he stabbed himself is scarred with gold ribbing (like stretch marks) around it. The lines go up his shoulder and along his ribs.

Post-Kronos he struggles a lot with his body since for most of his life it was survival mode, revenge mode, and ultimately a tool for Kronos that would die. Some latent Thalia influence sees him get several piercings & tattoos in the years after.

Shoots up a couple more inches, remains pretty lanky. Tries to live.

[swamprisen]

@spectrophobias.

SATURDAY NIGHTS AT THE BLACK GATE — lively and loud. Patrons packed onto stools, shoulders brushing shoulders. A stray shoulder nudges into Mari, a man in his late fifties. He apologizes before returning to his conversation. Conversations. Overlapping && rowdy. They flood Mari's ears, drowning the thoughts that swim around in her mind. Pairing it with the whiskey in her glass, it's silence. It's solace. A welcome reprieve after the fucking week she's had. The stool sits empty next to her. Once upon a time, someone would have occupied that stool. There'd be warmth on the leather, worn && frayed. Now it's just empty. Those deep green eyes stare at the emptiness, the hole left behind. For a moment, her chest tightens. The feeling is shaken off, tucked away in some deep place behind her ribs. Lifting her glass, she takes a long drink as her gaze wanders back to watch the hustle of the bodies in the bar.

[stygicniron]

nico....... nico................ i finally came up with a nickname for you, are you ready..........

nico dark'ness dementia raven way.

please don't ever call me that

[marblewon]

i'm so used to doing this myself. (U ALREADY KNOWWW)

the words make sae-byeok's hands still momentarily, followed by a brief glance upward to find ji-yeong's gaze even if she doesn't end up holding it — instead, dark eyes quickly return to the task at hand.

ji-yeong's fingers look better now than they did a few days ago, when the two of them were shoved unceremoniously from a limo some forty-five billion won richer. relief at surviving the games was quickly washed away when faced with the tide of wounds, both physical and mental, they suffered while in that place. the skin had been sliced to ribbons in the final game, her hands slipping on rain-soaked, blood-soaked knives. sae-byeok is relieved to see wounds scarring over without any sign of infection as she carefully removes the old bandages.

words stall out in her throat as she cleans ji-yeong's hands, wiping them gently. i know, sae-byeok wants to say, me too. or maybe even, you have me now. but her jaw remains stiff, immovable, with no indication that the things she wants to say will dislodge it any time soon.

she finishes wrapping ji-yeong's hands up in silence before rising from her crouched position, pressing a kiss to ji-yeong's temple with clumsy affection.

"i'll change them again after dinner." it feels like the right thing for her to say, that ji-yeong might be able to understand the depths of how sae-byeok feels from something as seemingly simple as a promise. promises which, for sae-byeok, are rarely made but always kept. "i'll be outside if you need me."

[madefate]

i want you to run, okay? run and don't look back. (thalia for annabeth 💖) / @spectrophobias

Everything happens all at once - the snarling and baying of hellhounds cuts through the night air, the shrieking of furies and the crash of steel on steel and Annabeth is momentarily flashbombed by a strike of lightning that pierces through the clouds and down to earth not that far from them. Thalia? A storm? Something else? Thalia, where is Thalia -

A hand clamps around her arm and pulls her back with the speed and force of a car crash but Annabeth is narrowly dragged back from the jaws of a hellhound that's broken away from the pack. She stares, wide eyed, shaking, as the thing's teeth gleam in the darkness and it salivates - salivates looking at her. Instinctively, Annabeth kicks backward at the hand that has her in a move that Luke taught her long ago - but it is Luke - she recognizes his oof and her throat and eyes burn as she stops immediately and grabs him too.

❝ We need Thalia ! We need to find Thalia ! ❞

They're so close - Grover said it was just up this way. Grover is supposed to know everything, so why is this all happening right here on the hill just below Camp ?? Luke only grunts in response, and she realizes that another hound is stalking towards them from his direction. Annabeth fumbles at her belt loop and takes out his dagger, clamping her hand around the hilt because she is not going to let herself shake. Luke and Thalia and Grover need her.

When she slashes out, she rarely hits anything of value - just the hide of one of the dogs a few times - and she nearly loses her footing scrambling backwards up the hill. More arms catch her - lightning illuminates the side of Grover's face, and she's just about to shout at him when the hound in front of them goes down and there, finally, is Thalia's face. Flecked with blood, harshly contrasted in the lightning, but so close she can almost touch it.

And Annabeth almost does, but then all she hears is I want you to run, okay ? Run and don't look back.

❝ What - no ! We can beat them, like the Cyclops ! Thalia - ❞

Thalia looks up at someone behind her. Annabeth gets to her feet, reaches out the hand without the dagger - lightning rips between them sending her startling back and illuminating Thalia in a godly, resplendent, terrifying cascade of blue and white sparks, and Grover's hand is clamped on her arm, pulling her away.

Annabeth hears screaming, but doesn't realize it's her own, ❝ Thalia !!! ❞ until her throat rubs raw and her crying turns into croaking and all she sees is the fury's blade and Thalia's blade, and then the descent to the dark grass below -

❝ THALIA - ! ❞

// accepting !

[cxrpe-nxctum]

@spectrophobias new thread!

mags knew that today would be hard for annie. the little progress they’ve made in the last six months was about to go out the window as she was forced to be paraded around panem for the victory tour. but, she was determined to be there for her, just as determined as she was to build her confidence before the games. it was a painful experience, but not one to be faced alone. that was one of the reasons why she spent the night in the guest bedroom. the other reason is what made her wake up even earlier in the morning than usual, before the sun rose.

in a few hours, the house was going to be flooded with stylists and media, and things needed to be presentable. no one blamed annie for being unable to clean, considering it was an accomplishment to even get her to get out of bed, but that’s what mags was for. and just as the sunlight came shining through the windows, she got to work making the new victor a breakfast in bed with all of her favorites.

to no surprise, annie was already awake as mags carried the tray of food and carefully placed it on the nightstand. it looked like she hardly slept at all, and a concerned frown came to her face. sitting on the bed next to her, mags reached down and squeezed her hand and held up a pinky, reminding her of their promise: that they were a team, and she would be there for her to the end. 

[titanslayer]

@spectrophobias​ / thalia said:   " you're my person. "

     the thought of being tethered to anything, anyone, has always felt wrong to jason — his earliest memories are of a foster family trying, and failing miserably, to rename him in attempt to plant him into new roman life better.  he remembers rejecting any such plan, any effort, anything, that took away from his existence as jason grace.  the grace had been so important to him all his life — a connection to something important.  

that something was thalia.  he knows that now.  he knows that all the heartache in his most poignant childhood memories was a simple lack of his person, his home.  being claimed by jupiter had nothing on being claimed again by the first person to care about him beyond what he could do for them; by the first person to know him as jason, and love for him as nothing more than jason.  

when she speaks, jason leans a little heavier against her side, his head coming to rest against hers, comfortable and warm and safe in this quiet cabin that finally did not feel like a cage.  all those years she suffered alone, all the pain and stress and guilt she must have felt for everything that wasn’t her fault or responsibility — it didn’t bear thinking about.  but those are years she deserves back in kindness and care.  he would find some way of making the rest of their time together comforting, safe, happy.  he would, because —

“ you’re my person, too. ”

[stoiicist]

spectrophobias asked: ❝ you were always worth fighting for. you still are. ❞ (from hylla >8) )

“then actually fight, damn it.”

reyna turns, finally, to face her sister after perhaps too much time spent staring out the window at one of the corner fields on the outskirts of camp. but reyna had needed to, needed the time to take some of the teeth out of her words, lest they come barking out like they’re trying to find something to sink into.

she doesn’t understand how hylla can just stand there, the icy fortress that she is, while the furnace heart of a wounded girl rages in reyna’s own chest. she is looking for something recognizable in her sister, a crack in the calm and collected façade, and she finds it. reyna always finds it. 

still, she’s looking for more. to know that her sister isn’t buried too far to ever come back.

“i see how much you like to pretend that none of this matters to you, that everything you’ve ever felt is something that can just be shoved away instead.” the bite still finds its way into her words. reyna means for it to, but she also doesn’t. “fight that and let yourself feel it.”

maybe reyna feels like a bit of a hypocrite, considering she’s swallowed down more emotions than breaths she’s taken in the last five years. but to her own credit, at least reyna feels them like acid on her insides rather than pretend they’re not even there.

“—or keep running away, like you always do. but i don’t run away from the things i’m scared of anymore, hylla. i don’t run and hide from the things that hurt me.”

warning: may lead to emotional harm