#implcde

ㅤhe woke to silence—actual, honest quiet. no screams. no alarms. no coppery scent of blood, or that sharp tang of fear and sweat in the air, choking you. just stillness. dare he say, peace: the familiar woolly texture of an old shirt percy had left behind, smooth against his neck. weird. this felt beyond realistic. was he having one of those prophetic dreams demigods were cursed with? hah, good one. surely the monsters gnawing at the edges of the world would show up any second now. the gods did love a cruel punchline. håkan rolled over with a groan, bracing for the stiff chill of a camp cot—but the sheets were warm, the bed big and deeply rumpled. it felt too soft. he frowned, confused, and buried his face in a pillow, considering the possibility of staying unconscious forever. green eyes fluttered open once he recognised in the sheets that unmistakable perfume he had come to adore, however: the spray of crashing waves, mixed a bit with mischief and… coffee? oh, if this was a hallucination, he’d personally swear revenge against pasithea: hypnos and his wife could burn.

ㅤdragging himself out of bed like some beast reluctantly summoned from hibernation, håkan followed the artificial beep of a coffeemaker and the faint clink of ceramic. stumbling forward into the kitchen, the one blessed by hephaestus tugged under his shirt, as if it was suddenly too hot despite its lack of sleeves. his mechanical leg hissed as a calloused hand over wild locks that wouldn’t be tamed without a good shower. he stilled. / and there was @implcde. by the counter, hoodie two sizes too big—emblazoned with racing cars and neon-green flames that screamed gas station clearance sale. his dark hair gleamed in the early light, haloed absurdly by daylight’s first rays. ‘morning, sunshine,’ the figure of his dreams-reality welcomed. håkan narrowed his eyes against the glow. then he saw that smirk of his he fell for, the dimples. he groaned. dammit. sunshine, indeed.

ㅤbut the aroma of coffee tickled his senses, wicked and promising. håkan zeroed in on the steaming beverage waiting for him, a dark roast in a newly-bought mug stamped with a cartoon-looking shrimp and the words don’t krill my vibe. he looked from the cup to the son of the ocean, who was waiting for him with those inviting plump lips, curling at the edges as if they were guarding a sharp-witted comment under an alluring grin.  / without a word, håkan reached out, gently cupping his chin, eyes scanning those bright pools of blue like a question: are you real or are you another one of my yearnful fantasies?   / and then, he drank from his lips, because that is how he knew him.   / not rushed or precise: just a lazy, drowsy press of mouths that moved slowly and tenderly, turning a little with each shared breath. warmth bloomed through his chest as the scent of caffeine curled between their skins, making teeth a bit too hungry on the edges, if only for a few seconds before håkan needed to sigh. his thumb brushed the curve of percy’s hip. this was his favourite kind of kiss, the one that didn’t ask for anything. it simply said: we’re here. / i love you. / and somehow, it’s not even noon.

ㅤ“morning.” he mumbled, voice still rough like gravel, and maybe percy would never know how much of a miracle it was for håkan to smile so openly in the mornings. he took a sip from his pure black drink, revelling in its bitter taste and letting it ground him to reality further. he leaned in again, nuzzling his face against percy’s cheek, shoulders relaxing when still-growing beard scratched and brushed warm skin. this was / is real. “thank you for the coffee, love.”

ㅤbreath left his lungs like something stolen when håkan’s back hit the dirt, hard enough to hurt. his enemy-not-quite-enemy was on him a second later, straddling him as surf breaking on rock, one knee pressing deep into his stomach and one bronze sword angled against håkan’s throat like a cruel kiss—or the promise of one. salt-sweat dripped from percy’s jaw, landing warm against håkan’s lip, and for a long, dangerous second, håkan forgot the fight entirely. / he knew better, of course, well of wisdom be damned. he understood, remembered, the weight prophecies brought, the names of monsters and their victims, and the putrid smell of smoke if his mission failed. but here—pinned beneath @implcde’s weight, bruised and burning, with those storm-bright eyes above him and that infuriating grin that tempted him like a dare—here felt like a good place to end. if ragnarök cried for him, it could wait. a little longer. he’d let the world crack open around him if it meant staying here just a little longer. jörmungandr wasn’t that hungry, was he?

ㅤbesides, percy’s left-handed grip was shaky on his wrists, pinning him like some beautiful executioner who’d forgotten which side he was on. and to that, the chosen by odin licked blood from the corner of his mouth, smiling sharply, teeth red, defiant, foolish, alive. “eight to twelve,” håkan murmured, soft like a secret, too aware of how easily he could lean up, close that inch of breath between them. “you’re not catching up fast enough, perseus.”

ATSUSHI DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN SHE TEXTED. he'd been so deep into the research files on his computer screen that the hum of his phone against the wooden desk jolted him in alarm. not for long, of course, because the tiger had the sound of her chosen ringtone memorized the same way he had the sound of her heartbeat. ( don't get lunch today! blinked at him through the white light haze, and he tilts his head, stomach growling like he hadn't even realized he was hungry until now. ) he responds with quick, clumsy fingers and a fond smile on his face before the lock screen clicks back into blackness, sat neatly on the corner of his desk once more.

not twenty minutes have passed, and he smells her before he sees or hears her. she smells like the faint lather of her rose bar soap and the air of his favorite bakery downtown. and atsushi twirls in his swivel chair to face the door, eyes big and boyish with pending excitement, because she smells like his favorite bakery. and when she finally walks in, it's like the sun walked in with her, because the room undeniably gets brighter.

ㅤㅤ𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦ㅤ|ㅤ@implcdeㅤ| ㅤaccepting!

as we've discussed for our pjo verse, i can see håkan being the 'mother hen' of the camp. he is the one that people come to when they need to make extra sure their equipment is safe and that it will last or when they need sharper swords, he cooks, helps the healers, he's always there. percy probably has not only pieces of armour designed by håkan, but probably even special tools and gears as well. having said that, håkan rarely (if ever) leaves the camp. he says it's to take care of everyone and protect people his own way, but... when he was younger, the one time he tried adventuring too far, things got ugly. he lost his mother, gobber and his leg the one time he tried adventuring. he is terrified of his own incompetence causing anyone else to get hurt, and he knows he's not a good fighter or, well, runner, for that matter. so whenever percy visits and shares things about the outside world, he would be so happy. all this to say: percy is probably why he starts getting out of the camp more often. håkan would want to accompany him in his adventures and look for ways that he can protect him, too.

after losing his leg, håkan avoids entering big bodies of water, like lakes or oceans. the surface makes his prosthetic hard to move, not to mention the risk of rust, which can cause him pain. he gets nervous over the fact that he can more easily drown, too. but once they're closer/already dating, i can see håkan being the one to have the initiative to ask percy to hold his hand as they enter the ocean! he would want to be a part of his world, too. percy would probably be focused on ensuring everything's okay, but over time, håkan would only have eyes for him. he loves those pretty green-blue eyes and how fitting percy looks in the waves. he might feel so comfortable that he will take the opportunity to steal a kiss from percy when he last expects it. from that point on, he starts liking the sea again.

when it comes to games, races or anything else, percy is the most competitive amongst the two of them. he doesn't know it (or at least, håkan hopes he doesn't), but håkan will constantly let percy win just to witness him smiling and puffing his chest in pride. when percy is being a bit too obnoxious though, håkan will get serious and will beat him for the sole purpose of shushing him.