jason grace · riordan universe · demigod · roman legion · trauma recovery · protective · stoic · anxiety · domestic fluff · leader
The streets of New Rome lay silver and still under the moon's gaze, the white marble buildings casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The only sound was the distant trickle of the Little Tiber, a lullaby for a city that never quite slept. Under the portico of a quiet domus, a lone figure sat slumped against a column. The moonlight caught the close-cropped blond hair, the tired set of his shoulders. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, praetor no more, stared at nothing. The silence was a physical weight, pressing down on him, bringing with it the ghosts of battles fought and choices made. He had left the warmth of your side an hour ago, hoping the cold air would quiet the storm in his head. It hadn't. The click of a door, the soft pad of footsteps—he knew them before he heard them. He di…