Summary: there's a reason hurricanes are named after people. thalia grace is blowing kronos away. [thalia x kronos]
warning; this is dark. so yeah . . . kinda wanted to show y'all the not-happy side of valentines day.
i. you want to destroy all of her silver innocence
"there's a demon in your heart of hearts
hiding true colors made you fall apart
in the mirror you're a work of art
but this is real life, real life"
~oh wonder, dazzle~
When you win she's the first person you go find; you will take her, batter her and bruise her, make her yours. Luke Castellan is gone but you remember his memories—remember the girl who cared for him, who didn't give up on him even with the darkness, even with you taking over him. You've been looking for ages for a girl who would care about you, and you've found her. You will make her yours.
It's only bits and pieces that you can feel, remnants of old memories. How she helped him, talked to him when he was afraid. How she never really gave up on him, how she believed until that moment on Mount Othrys. You want someone who will do that to you, who won't be scared of your countenance.
She's a hunter, a hunter of Artemis, that little granddaughter of yours. Technically, she's your granddaughter too—you don't care about technicalities.
Hunters of Artemis are innocent, all silver glows and silver bows . . .
You grab her the minute you see her and kiss her.
The silver disappears.
You smile.
ii. she tears all of your beliefs apart
"cause when our demons come
dancing in the shadows
to a game that can't be won"
~halsey, empty gold~
She's fierce.
You thought that she would give into you . . . thought that after seeing his face on you that she would give in. She doesn't, though. You drag her away after freezing her in time and destroying her kin while she watches in disbelief.
She doesn't start to grieve until you've rolled her into your throne, placed her into the one beside it. You don't know what to expect; maybe she'll be happy, maybe she'll grieve.
She jumps at you.
She punches you, slaps you, rakes her nails all over you and you don't protest. You stand there and you watch her, watch her unleash that dark potential and you smile. You let yourself soak in her madness, let it envelop you.
And then you wait out her storm until she runs out of fuel, until she lies motionless on the floor, bloodied and broken.
You're winning.
iii. you think that she wants you to shatter
"if you can't wake up from the nightmare . . .
. . . maybe you're not asleep"
~anonymous~
You know that she does.
Weeks later she's calmer, more refined. She doesn't fight.
But she doesn't listen, either.
No matter how much you try to talk to her she won't listen. She is steadfast in her ideology that you are evil, steadfast that you are hell-bent on destroying everything she loves. She's right, of course. You've destroyed most of her family, destroyed the boy she loved. And you will continue to destroy, continue to break everyone she cares about—until she starts caring about you.
Maybe after that, you can stop destroying people. You will do anything to keep her as yours.
You will do anything to make her yours.
You have been doing everything.
You've been romantic, giving her black flowers and black jewelry and other black things—things she throws away without a second glance.
You've been hard (maybe she is fond of the evil ones), asking her and then commanding her to listen to you. It does not change her at all.
And then you almost give up. You leave her alone—no talking, no romance.
The first time she ever looks at you with something not akin to hate in her eyes is when she sees you helping one of your opponents off the floor after you almost break him.
You think that you can work with that.
iv. it's only a matter of time before you let her rule with you
"and like the moon
she had a side of her
so dark that even the stars couldn't shine upon it"
~abigail.j, via instagram~
"Here's the deal," she murmurs into your ear, breath leaving a warm track of moisture across your head. You shiver. She catches it.
"I'm listening," your voice comes out barely a whisper. You can't think anymore, can't comprehend anything anymore—
"You let my friends go. I'll do anything you want."
You look at her, into her, and you know that she'll abide by her promise. And so your choice is easy—
(it doesn't matter if you let the pretty blonde princess and the daring sea spawn and the goat back into the real world. you've won already.)
"Fine," you say.
She stands there expectantly and your rake your eyes over her whole figure, knowing exactly what you want to do first—
"Sit on the throne," you whisper.
(and she'll do it, she'll more than do it)
But she doesn't move.
"Why?" the question is simple. You know the answer, but you don't want to tell her. You want to show her.
"You'll see," you say.
And then she walks up to your black black black throne and she sits down and you can tell that she can see.
"Don't you see now?" you ask (ice cold voice but inside you're melting).
"Yeah . . ." she is looking with wonder around her, and you know that she can see it now, the world that you see . . .
"Don't you understand now?"
"It's just you, isn't it?"
"It always has been. I am everything."
She reaches out and grasps your hand, still stuck in that wonder.
"Show me."
v. she is brilliant and she breaks you into pieces
"i am not looking to escape my darkness.
i am learning to love myself there."
~Rune Lazuli~
"You get me now, don't you?"
She looks at you and it's minutes, hours before she finally replies.
"I will never understand you."
And before you can reply, you're lost in her again when she weaves webs with her words.
"But that's okay."
You look at her, all wild freedom and confined beauty and you smile.
And then you kiss her.
She doesn't do anything. Just stands there, a stone column. You would pull away—you know your should—but she's not pushing you away and she just feels so good and you don't want to let her go ever. You'll freeze time for ages just to capture this one moment.
"Why did you do that?" she asks when you finally pull away.
"Because I wanted to."
"I didn't before," she tells you.
"Do you know?"
"Maybe a little bit," her feet scuffle in the dark.
You do it again and she does it back and you have absolutely no regrets.
"the devil asked me how i knew
my way around the halls of hell
i told him i did not need a map
for the darkness i knew so well"
~t.m.t~
as you can see, written for babypandabear for the 2017 valentines day fic exchange! you said that this would be interesting, so here you go :)
ugh, note before publishing — so this was written in the valentine's mind frame . . . i just stupidly decided to forget the fact. so kronos is killing everybody on valentine's day. creepy? i hope so.
sorry this isn't fluff. i'm just not in a fluffy mind frame right now . . . anyways, hope you like it!
-Dee
