half-angel half-dead

1. tavi gevinson, 2. graveyard girl by m83, 3 + 7. aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz, 4. tumblr user @averagefairy, 5. eugene ionesco, 6. tumblr user @cowboyvamp

Undercover: ‘Anitomicouture’ Ribcage Leather Jacket (2013)

          tension wound up tight in his shoulders release as soon as she confirms that she isn't planning on questing.  fear has dug his way into his chest,  excavating his innards and replacing it with an all consuming void.  he cannot afford to lose anyone else.  people  —  the kind without divine blood in them  —  always talk about how they cannot imagine what it feels like to lose someone important to them.  all nico has done is lost.  he can imagine loss very well,  even after rebuilding everything from scratch.  he's seen andromeda's demise in his nightmares more times than he would admit to her face.     "     i won't step foot in there.     "     he holds out his pinky finger to seal the promise,  black polish chipping on the nail.     "     i swear on the styx.     "     a tug,  invisible,  and he's tied to the oath.     "     i'm done with quests,  andromeda.  i kind of just want to live.     "

she looks up from her phone, where she's considering hitting one of the few contacts and calling her dad, but the expected company has arrived. not a minute too soon. people never are. "hi." nice. easy greeting, always a win. she slips her phone into the tote bag that sits on the floor, leaning against the chair she sits in a somewhat precarious looking crisscross situation, "you were - are here to see me." it's not a question and circe stares nearly through nico rather than directly at him.

          circe doesn't seem surprised by his approach,  or even his mere existence.  nico frowns.  somehow,  things have become equally more complicated and much easier.  he tilts his head in acknowledgement,  strands of black hair falling in front of his face.     "     do you know why,  then  ?     "     he tugs lightly on stella's handle,  then they approach a empty chair to the left of circe,  leaving an empty one in the middle.  it's not an interrogation,  he has to remind himself.  a chat,  a conversation.  he only intends to learn more about what's happening.  he sinks into the chair despite how uncomfortable the hard plastic is,  as if it's made to dissuade use.     "     some people would think you're a hero for what you did for mrs. clark,  maybe even comment on how lucky she was that you were there.  you believe in luck  ?  coinicidences  ?     "

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