[Theyād been to a few pubs whilst staying in London, more so to take advantage of the legal drinking age that at the time permitted them to drink. Theyād all been similar to this. The wood of the tables perpetually tacky from the liquid itād absorbed over time, from the hands of too drunk patrons and their slightly overfilled pint glasses. It smelt the same here too - mildly hoppy, mostly sweaty. But the bustle of conversation and the clinking of glass on, well everything, was synonymous with relaxation that came from a drink and the company of a good friend.Ā
Both of which Clayton had.Ā
Everyone here, for the most part, was in good spirit. It made his stomach feel warm and his head less heavy. He turned slightly, went to sip from the drink that heād already downed half of, before pausing to ask a question.] You see her over there, you know with the pony tail? Do you think she knows heās only laughing because heās hoping he wont be sleeping alone tonight? [He wiggled his brow, took that sip before setting his glass down on the table.] I love people watching, there was this coffee shop near me that had a great outside seating area. I used go literally just to watch people walk past, created little lives for them in my head. You ever do that?
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Hello, fellow Zeki shipmates! With the newest vkm chapter right around the corner, those of us from officialzekiweek thought it would be great to end the year off with our event in addition to celebrating the new chapter. As most of you know, Zeki Week is a dedicated week of which we celebrate our beloved pairing, Zero and Yuuki. We hope to spread the cheer and season's greetings before the new year. Thank you so much to all of those that supported this blog! Happy Holidays!
Rules: You can choose one theme or mix them together, just be creative and have fun! :) You can contribute by making edits in any type of media such as gifs, graphics, fanart, fanfics, cosplays, fanvids, playlists, etc. (Click the link for more info)
Themes:
Day 1: Natural Connection/Irreplaceable Partners
Day 2: Misunderstandings/Deep Dark Forest
Day 3: Opposites Attract/Sun and Moon
Day 4: Childhood Memories
Day 5: Naughty or Nice
Day 6: Seasonās Greetings Cheer
Day 7: Anything You Want
Make sure to tag under #Zeki Week so everyone can see!
The night wasnāt particularly young, with the moon already high in the sky as Jax walked along one of the roads of New Rome. His movements made almost no sound, a by-product of years of training to move lightly despite his stature paired with his godly grandmotherās influence of being a night-walker. He hadnāt planned to be awake at this time, but a rather mouthy hedgehog had been determined to hold its loverās quarrel just outside his window, waking him from his attempt to sleep. And though the Karavadra children were taught from a young age to go against their natural nocturnal clockā the curse still remained that once Jax was awake during the night, he was awake.Ā
So heād willingly relieved one of the Legionnaires that had been tasked with patrolling to make sure no Greeks were breaking their curfew. After all, he figured someone should get to sleep this night. Nashira had been helping as she flew the sky above, keeping an eye out for any Greek that my be breaking the new laws of the bill. She called out to him, her information sounding in his head. āThereās one walking just down the road. Coming our way.ā At her words, Jax stepped back into the shadows, though it was more as if the darkness had come alive to cling to him, eager to be one with someone whoās heritage was linked so strongly to the night, and he was soon indescribable from his surroundings. He wanted to see exactly who it was breaking curfew before approaching.Ā
Annabeth hadnāt necessarily been looking for the man that had appeared in her dreams and acted as Percy, but she hadnāt been not looking for him either. So when she spotted him across from a breakfast shop, she didnāt hesitate in calling out to him.Ā āHey! Hannibal guy!ā She didnāt have anything else to call him but the name of the elephant he had ridden at the scene of the fire. But as she moved closer to him, her face grew tighter, brows drawing together to make the expression that Leo Valdez had deemed the face that had made him consider blondes now all too scary. Having her dreams invaded on wasnāt something she was particularly happy about, as she considered her privacy to be a very valuable thing.Ā
It had been a while since her sleep schedule had been this particularly and entirely out of whack. It was most likely that she hadnāt been this way since her initial arrival at camp around nine years ago. As sheād made new friends, it had been easier to find the motivation to wake with the rest of the world. And being with Alabaster had only made it even easier. But now that her relationship had crumbled, and she had less friends in New Athens...sheād slipped back into old habits. So here she was in New Athens at nearly 3:30 AM, going through a general training regimen sheād developed for herself.
Nighttime was when she was at her best, and had the full range of her abilities. So as she thrust and swung at dummies with her sword, her movements were often punctuated with large bursts of lightning and rolls of thunder. It didnāt escape her notice that someone had wandered towards her practice session. Hopefully it wouldnāt be someone dumb enough to get too close and catch a stray lightning bolt, but if they did get closer than she likedā she could always send a little spark their way. Her workout was coming to a cooldown, and as she shot off her last enormous lightning bolt, the dummy before her splintered.Ā āWatch out!ā she called out to the stranger, before sending a strong wind in front of them to carry the shooting wood pieces away from them.Ā āAlright, thatās it. Showās over. Iām done.ā
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It was dark. Though it wasnāt the simple darkness of night that seemed to cast itself over the young blonde kneeling on the ground. It was complete and utter pitch black that covered every surface, an inky shade so obscure that it was almost difficult to tell if there were shadows within the shadows, moving as if the murky and velvety depths of it might actually hid something sinister. They always started this way. The nightmares that had plagued her since her and Percyās escape from Tartarus.
At one point sheād gotten to a place where they had been happening with less frequency, but now the stress of a potential mole in their midst and the consequences of their actions had the nightmares coming more often once more. If she was being truthful, her and nighttime terrors had always had a somewhat close relationship, ever since sheād been a little girl and the spiders had come at night to bite at her in retribution for Athenaās curse on Arachne. Even now, Annabeth could feel the minuscule legs of hundreds of spiders crawling over her skin, though the darkness surrounding her didnāt permit her to see them. Instantly she began to shiver and shudder as chills wracked her. Defeating Arachne had done little to curb her phobia of spiders, and she could already feel the panic rising in her throat as she tried to brush the black arachnids away frantically.
The recent Senate House fire has brought back some not so fun memories for Annabeth. Thankfully Z is there to...help?
tw: traumatic flashbacks
It was dark. Though it wasnāt the simple darkness of night that seemed to cast itself over the young blonde kneeling on the ground. It was complete and utter pitch black that covered every surface, an inky shade so obscure that it was almost difficult to tell if there were shadows within the shadows, moving as if the murky and velvety depths of it might actually hide something sinister. They always started this way. The nightmares that had plagued AnnabethĀ since her and Percyās escape from Tartarus. At one point sheād gotten to a place where they had been happening with less frequency, but after having witnessed the burning of the Senate building...it seemed that the heat of the fire and yelling demigods had awoken her memories of Tartarus.
If she was being truthful, her and nighttime terrors had always had a somewhat close relationship, ever since sheād been a little girl and the spiders had come at night to bite at her in retribution for Athenaās curse on Arachne. Even now, Annabeth could feel the minuscule legs of hundreds of spiders crawling over her skin, though the darkness surrounding her didnāt permit her to see them. Instantly she began to shiver and shudder as chills wracked her. Defeating Arachne had done little to curb her phobia of spiders, and she could already feel the panic rising in her throat as she tried to brush the black arachnids away frantically.
Remaining conscious for long periods of time always had a fatal flaw. In Zās case, that flaw manifested as terrible naps that drew him away from any tasks he was hoping to accomplish. He had known such a thing was coming, much like the elderly claimed to know when the heavens would part for storms. Z had always blamed it on his power, but recently began to assume it was because of his fatherās domain and his attuning to it. For preparations, he turned his bed into a nest of pillows and blankets, poured himself a nice cup of tea, and cleaned his face to avoid getting anything on his precious linens. It took less than a few seconds after his head landed on a pillow before his consciousness was being pulled away from his body.Ā Z preferred to dream walk instead of having any of his own, desperate to avoid the demons of his past manifesting themselves behind his eyelids. He had to be careful with whom he chose in his new environment. There were so many traumatic experiences from the demigods and legacies alike. Faces of monsters and men, gods and horrors plagued them in ways he would rather die than stand against. There had been so much that happened behind the veil of mist, curtains that Z was thankful never drew back while he was attending the play known as Life
Typically, Zās form took on a resemblance to his father. Bright white wings sprouted from his back and allowed him to navigate through minds like the true demigod he was, but in recent times, he found it best to take on the form of a raven. Being absolutely angelic was effective in NYC because it was a virtue to be blessed by him at night, but that was different here. The amount of post-traumatic stress would probably make his flying form an easily recognizable farce, or worseā¦a target. His eyes, which almost always took on the color of bubblegum, were swallowed by his pupils as he settled on a nightmare in progress. They allowed him to see through anything, which in this case meant watching as a girl was attacked by spiders. The names Annabeth, Arachne, and Tartarus whispered to him, enticing him to stay. Memories were enthralling that way; and, he was too weak to refuse.
āGet off me!ā She called out to no avail. Annabeth should have known better than to try such silly tactics of yelling them away. If anything, it only seemed to make the spiders crawl over her more avidly, the incessant tapping of their infinite legs already chipping away at her stability. With a panicked choke, she shut her eyes tight, as if it would help anything. But it was rather useless when she had already only been cloaked in darkness, and her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to physically hold herself together.Ā It was rather amazing, how it took only moments for a remarkably strong woman to began to crumble. In the waking world she was known for her wit and bravery, but in the darknessā when she was aloneā¦there was a secret that leaked out of her. She was only strong in front of others. Ever since she could remember, sheād been looked to for guidance and confidence. But when there was no one to look to her, only herselfā it was infinitely harder to don the mask of indifference and sureness that she wore when conscious.
But suddenly she rose from the ground, hands balled into fists as if by some miracle sheād managed to find her strength. With another yell she stomped her foot to the ground. āI said, leave!ā And just like that the spiders were gone. There was a split moment of relief before a realization came to her. There was a sound emitting from the darkness, a sort ofā¦cracking? It was soon joined by Arachneās familiar cackle, and suddenly the floor beneath the foot she had stomped began to fissure, a bright and glowing orange that erupted until there was no floor left. And Annabeth was left to fall through the crumbling floor. The strangest thing was the smudge of white she noticed above her. A single white bird floating above her gave her the smallest sense of peace as the wind rushed past her, and she feel for what felt like eternities. It was out of place. but not entirely unwelcome. But it wasnāt to last as she slammed into the floor. Rising once more from the ground, she gasped as pain erupted over her every inch of skin. The familiar toxic air of Tartarus was quickly filling her lungs, and as coughs violently shook her it was back to the ground she went. At least their was light now, though it was more of a constant throbbing red that the true light of the sun. As her lungs continued to try and expel the poisonous air, she could see the enormous blisters that had formed over her skin. When sheād actually been in Tartarus, there had been Percy to heal them away. But now she was utterly alone.
Closer inspection from his dream-awarded night vision showed the spiders as more apparition than reality. It as almost like watching the girl being haunted by hundreds of miniature ghosts, all in the form of spiders. Their bodies were wispy and thin, cruel in texture and in appearance. All in all, he wondered what wouldāve happened had she gotten a true look at the creatures torturing her. Ordinary spiders were already the cause of one of the most common fears; smoky spider ghosts were like an excessive amount of terror.Ā By some stroke of confidence, she had managed to muster up enough energy to get up. The spiders followed the motion like they were programmed to, but scattered away from the frightened girl when demanded they leave. He only had but a moment to revel in her strength before she was sent plummeting through the floor. Z dove down after her.
His form had shifted with the light, taking on the coloring of a dove rather than a raven as he fought a further transformation. Let it be known that he almost reached out to save her, trauma be damned. He was thankful he thought better of it as he landed on a floating platform, head cocked to the side as he landed on a platform he manipulated into existence.Ā The air filled with a miasma that he was immune to as it was but a memory of Annabethās. In the wake of any toxicity, Zās eyes flashed through memories of pure agony. Of all the things the other demigods he watched had been through, Annabeth took the proverbial cake made of pure, unadulterated shit. She had been trapped for what she felt like were eons. There was a boy beside her: Percy Jackson. He took care of her as she did him, but was nowhere to be found in the present dream. She was alone and it was taking its toll on her.
The blisters only kept coming as Annabethās eyes squeezed shut, as if she could block out the pain somehow. But it was to no avail. Just when it felt as it she would be consumed by the agony, a voice came from the distance. It was a voice sheād recognize anywhere. Percy. He was here somewhere. And as his tones washed over her it was as if the healing waves heād summoned during their time in Tartarus were driving the blisters away. But it was only a brief moment of relief.Ā For a single moment he was there. Standing right in front of her with that dorky smile that sheād first found infuriating when they were young, but was now the thing that was a direct line to her happiness. āPercy,ā she spoke out in alleviation. If Percy was hereā if they were togetherā she knew it would be okay. But in the next instant his form flickered from existence, as if he was a badly tuned TV channel. āNo, Percy!ā And just like that her personal hell was back. It was the same as it had been when the arai had attacked them. There was the deep feeling that he was near, and yet she couldnāt see nor hear him. āPercy?!ā He was here. She knew he was. He had to be. People didnāt just disappear into thin air. And there was that unmistakable sense that he was near. But it was no use. Just as when Percy had been invisible to her due to Calypsoās curse so was he now. āPercyā please,ā she choked out.
There was something deliciously enticing about nightmares, especially those driven by trauma. His powers of memory diving were strongest in times of his targetsā distress as the avenues for subconscious travel were wide open. What Annabeth went through allowed him to see how the arachnaphobia had affected her throughout her life. Z saw the way the nights were filled with their attacks, and they would disappear by sunlight, leaving her floundering to explain the cobwebs to her stepmother. According to her own studies, Annabeth knew that spiders were particularly cruel to children of Athena. Now, Z had that information to store away as she went through the second phase of her nightmare.Ā Once his meddling had finished, he focused then on the apparition of Percy. What did he mean to her?
He was like a tether, strong and unwavering when she needed it most. She was the anchor for others, but there werenāt any for her until he came around. Z understood then why sheād called out for him and why the apparition of him came and went. There was a bond there that heād heard about through whispers, but seeing it play out was somehow even moreā¦Greek Tragedy. How fitting.Ā Z had let it play out for longer than he shouldāve. Fingering through her memories just seemed way too exciting to pass up, but he noticed that at this rate, she had the potential to trap herself here in this Hell. His avian body dispersed entirely without a single blip, and he manifested a spectral hand resembling Percyās that was held out of a large white portal. āTake my hand,ā he said in Percyās voice, fingers splayed out open for her to grasp.
As Percyās hand appeared in front of her and his voice rang out, it was as if the heavens themselves had opened up, but infinitely better. It was like the first gasping breath one would draw after nearly drowning, breaking the surface with a crack. Without hesitation Annabeth reached out towards the hand. This was Percy. There was seldom a time she would question going with him, especially in a situation such as this. Ā As her hand found his it was as if her entire body sighed a breath of relief. Things were going to be okay. Percy was the best anchor she could have ever asked for.Ā Using his hand to help her stand, a newfound peace had come over here. She could be strong for Percy. It was easier than simply being strong for herself. āThank you,ā she breathed out. Her blisters were still burning and present, and she knew further dangers loomed in the dark, but it seemed that. for now, Percy had calmed the louder monsters of her nightmare. She still couldnāt see the rest of him, but she could guess that the glowing circle he was within was some sort of portal or the like, and she prepared to be rid of this literal nightmare.
The hand that quickly embraced his had a sick comfort to it. Somewhere deep down, Z was battling with the true implications of personifying someone so deeply close to Annabeth without living vicariously through the entity he was embodying. He was manipulating someone into believing he was a person of major interest to them. Regardless of if it were for the sole purpose of helping the person through something as traumatic as what she was going through currently, there was a definite breach of trust and a boundary he was crossing with pointed intention. Still, there was something fun about getting a chance to shapeshift within another's subconscious. As she pulled on his hand to stand, Z took the time to alter the rest of his form to resemble Percy's as he pulled her into his arms. "I've got you," he said softly, hands roaming over her arms to heal the blisters. "You have to wake up, Annabeth...Wake up!"
Under Percy's touch, Annabeth was instantly relaxed, and though she was still under stress, a good amount of it was washed away just as he had rid her of the blisters that had peppered her skin. The beginnings of a smile was very nearly beginning to make their way across her lips, and she tried to catch one of Percy's hands in her own. "I knew you wouldn't leave me behind, Seaweed Brain." Perhaps it was just the veil of the dream confusing her, but there was the smallest sliver of her that still felt as if something was off. Was Percy different somehow? He looked and sounded to be exactly how she knew him. But she didn't have time to ponder it before he was demanding she wake up. Wake up? Was she not awake? But as his words continued she couldn't help but feel herself being pulled out of the nightmare. As the dream began to bleed away into the waking world, she looked once more to Percy, but the strangest thing happened. For a moment, he wasn't Percy. There was another in his place, someone she vaguley remembered seeing atop Hannibal in the fire from the night before, and the only words Annabeth managed to say before she woke entirely were. "What the hades? Who are you?"
Thereās nothing atypical about tonight at first glance. The entire block seems to pulsate with the bass-heavy music emanatingĀ from the club. Thereās only so much sound-proofing can do when pitted against soul-reverberating rhythm. Thereās still a line outside, despite the late hour. Hopefuls pacing with fingers crossed to make it in before the party is over.Ā
Inside the venue is packed body to body. Drinks in hand donāt stay full for long. Voices lost on deaf ears; faces mixing and melding together from the intoxicating mix of alcohol,Ā drugs, and euphoria. Itās a stereotypical scene for a Saturday night. That is...until a demon joins the mix.
The ladies room is nearly always full in clubs like this. Girls either peeing, puking or powdering their noses. Some crying to others about seeing so and so with so and so, this ex with that. Calling dibs and negotiations on whoās going home with whom. A large group makes their exit back into the fray, leaving a lone girl at the sink, staring at her reflection in the massive mirror with bleary eyes. Sheās too drunk to stay much longer and too drunk to care. She tries to mop up the running makeup under her eyes but movement in the reflection distracts her.
Thereās a man walking toward her. If you could call him that; a man. Heās a guy, like any other sheād see in a place like this. Tattered light-washĀ jeans, a black hoodie, wild bleached hair, and sunglasses. She canāt tell where heās looking with those dark shades covering his eyes and her eyes linger on his fat bottom lip for a bit too long before turning around.Ā āThis is the ladiesĀ room, asshole. You canāt be in here!ā she decrees, placing a hand on her hip for emphasis on her words and potentially the appeal of her tight dress-clad body.
But the only thing sheās successfully scolded is the tampon dispenser on the wall behind her. There is no man or guy or whatever he is. She whips her head around to the mirror again, confused and unwillingĀ to believe her eyes had betrayed her. She gasps, scream lodged in her throat. Heās right there. Right in front of her eyes but notĀ beside her. Sheās frozen, terrified and in complete disbelief when he proceeds to reach through the mirror.
He rests a hand on the mirrorās frame and kicks one leg up and then the other, stepping out of the massive piece of glass as if it were a window, not a mirror and hopping off the counter in a series of swift movements. He turns to regard her and then his own reflection, now seemingly normal as could be. He pulls off his shades, revealing black feline-shaped eyes and dark brows that rise, mocking the disbelief and shock still contorting her features.
āYour mother hasnāt taught you itās impolite to stare?ā he drawls, amusement licking at the corner of his lips. Humans are much too fun to play with. He turns to leave, catching the door as itās pushed open by the next throng of girls. He receives their looks of surprise that border on disapproval and intrigue, pushing their opinions toward the latter with an artfully mischievous smirk.Ā āHey, that girl at the sink is seriously fucked up. Someone should probably call her a cab,ā Zicovian lies, forked-tongue-in-cheek and disappears into the crowd as suddenly as heād arrived.