Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12887517.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      American_Horror_Story:_Murder_House, Percy_Jackson_and_the_Olympians_&
      Related_Fandoms_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Nico_di_Angelo/Tate_Langdon, Hades/Persephone_(Percy_Jackson)
  Character:
      Nico_di_Angelo, Tate_Langdon, Persephone_(Percy_Jackson), Bianca_di
      Angelo, Percy_Jackson, Jason_Grace, Will_Solace, Violet_Harmon
  Additional Tags:
      Depression, Cutting, Unhealthy_Coping_Mechanisms, Unhealthy
      Relationships, Emotional_Manipulation, Nico’s_really_sad, Tate’s_really
      fucked_up, Light_Dom/sub, Submissive_Nico, Death, Violence, Alternate
      Universe_-_Percy_Jackson_Fusion, No_Demigods, Ghosts, Anal_Sex, kinda
      happy_ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-02 Words: 1473
****** Nico’s Murder House ******
by NormalApplepieLife
Summary
     (Literally nobody probably wants this crossover but me, but there’s
     not enough slash fiction in the AHS universe so fuck it- I’ll make my
     own)
     Nico’s life ended the same moment his sister’s did; the only
     difference being that he was forced to keep breathing. Moved way
     across the country by his neglectful parents who would trade his life
     for his sister’s in a heartbeat, he’s truly alone for the first time
     in his life.
     Except... he’s not really alone. His new house is full of murdered
     ghosts, cursed to haunt the place for all eternity. And Tate? Well, a
     ghost has no fucking right to look so drop dead gorgeous.
     Fuck off, he lives with dead people. He’s allowed to make puns.
Notes
     Hey, don’t know if anyone will literally ever read this but if you do
     read my weird ass crossover lemme know what you think? I’ve been
     obsessed with AHS slash but the pickings are slim so I guess I’ll
     fill it up by myself.
     Enjoy me amusing myself.
Nico sighed as he cranked his music up louder, resting his head against the
cool, misty window, watching the dreary town race by. He was trying to drown
out the deafening silence in the car and he refused to turn his head to the
left, the space where Bi- where she used to always sit was achingly empty. It
was just Nico now. On his own... his dark eyes glanced to the front seat but
snapped back to the window at what he saw.
His father’s stern face was set into a permanent scowl, only putting up a calm
and content mask when he had a client. But Nico saw the ruined man behind it.
He’d lost his perfect child, his pride and joy, the one he’d bonded with and
who was actually going to do something with her life. Nico knew Hades wished it
would have been him on the accident. Nico knew he was the disappointment.
He was just the loser. The overactive, annoyingly eager kid who tagged along
with his incredibly kind and patient older sister and her friends. Friends who
Nico now realized were never actually his friends at all, depending on the zero
calls he’d received since the funeral.
...But that Nico was the one from Before. Before the world had snuffed out his
sister’s vibrant light. Now he was the sad, angry kid who only wore black and
never smiled. Huh, guess him and dad finally had something in common.
Persephone, his step-mother, on the other hand, wanted to pretend like nothing
was wrong. She was so deep in denial and suppression that it almost surprised
Nico. She’d spent over half the trip chattering on about how this move was
going to be great and how they’d gotten such a good deal on the house and how
there was so much she could do around town and on.. and on... until she’d
finally run out of energy and deflated like an old balloon, spending the last
few hours in complete silence. Persephone and B- Her, used to be quite close.
They’d bonded immediately when Hades remarried, when Nico was only two years
old, so Nico knew how much the woman was hurting inside. People showed their
pain in such different ways...
He just knew that nobody was hurt more than he was. She -Bianca, use her
fucking name Nico, she deserves that- had been his best friend, the only one in
the world who gave more than one shit about him. Sure, his parents fed him,
asked how he was every now and again, but that was the extent of it. Bianca had
practically raised him, becoming a mother figure to him at a young age when
their own had died and their father had taken to the bottle.
Nico squeezes his eyes shut as a few tears escaped. No more thinking about
that, it hurt too much. He noticed the car slowing to a stop and he hastily
wiped his cheeks and tugged his sleeves lower before helping his parents unload
the car, barely a word passing between them.
The Nico from before would have hated the house he was being forced to move
into. It would have actually looked pretty nice if it wasn’t for the dark aura
that seemed to seep out of the place. Veins clung to the sides and windows, as
if holding the house in a vice, and it was slightly withered by age. At first
glance, it looked like an old house that just needed some work, but once you
looked harder it gave you shivers down your neck. The Nico from now found it
oddly comforting and appropriate.
It just felt right to move to somewhere that fit the mood the family had
adopted. Without his sister, life was dull and dark and lonely and so very
painful. The house seemed to be a physical representation of these feelings.
“Nico.” The boy snapped his head to his father, was was coming down the stairs.
“I put your boxes in the room at the end of the hall. We’ll start unpacking
down here.” And with that Hades just kept walking by him without so much as a
look.
Nico recognizes a dismissal when he heard one. It’s how it had been for months
now. “Oh Nico, isn’t it your bedtime?” “Son, don’t you have some homework to
do?” The boy was used to not wanting to be looked at. He knew he resembled his
birth mother more than B had, knew that was why his father grimaced when he
looked at him sometimes, but now neither his father nor his step-mother could
even stand to glance at him.
He was to blame for all of this, after all. He could barely look at himself in
the mirror without cringing in disgust. Murderer.
Obeying his father, Nico slowly walked up the creaky stairs and to his room. To
his surprise, it looked nice too. In fact, the inside of the house wasn’t too
bad at all if you could ignore that persistent feeling of dread. He haphazardly
unpacked his shit, throwing clothes into drawers in crumpled balls and tossing
his sheets on his bed without really looking. The only thing he places with
care was the thing he treasured most in this world. On the bedside table he
gently placed a picture frame with a laughing version of himself and a smiling
Bianca rolling her eyes into the camera in amused affection. His heart
clenched. Other pictures in his bag included a dark haired boy with sea-green
eyes tussling his hair while Nico’s cheeks flames bright red and one from
Bianca’s birthday party with all of their (her) friends under blankets,
watching movies and messing with each other. Percy and Annabeth cuddling,
Bianca being tickled by red headed Rachel, Jason hiding behind a pillow while
Piper and Leo assaulted him with popcorn bullets, and Nico himself at the edge,
slightly away from everyone but laughing at the action. So happy in the moment,
but unaware that he was lingering, a nuisance, Bianca’s little brother who just
wouldn’t leave them alone.
Nico kept those pictures in the bag and tucked them into the back of the
closet.
Out of everyone, he was most certain that Jason would have called. But no. That
had been too much to hope for.
Collapsing onto the messy bed, he stared at Bianca’s happy face, so unaware
that in just two months time after the camera clicked she would die a horrible,
tragic death and rob her little brother of his desire to live.
Nico cried himself to sleep, as he had every night for the past month.
—————————————-
The sad boy slept fitfully that night, thrashing and moaning, drifting in and
out of nightmares. He could have sworn at one point that he saw a flash of
blonde at the foot of his bed but chalked it up to a weird dream. He screamed
himself awake, but as usual, nobody came to check on him. Instead, he tiredly
changed out of the sweat-soaked clothes and scowled at the mirror before
letting his knife run a few times over his wrist.
His new appearance was dreadful. He knew that, but couldn’t find it in him to
care. No appetite lead to him becoming unhealthily skinny, nightly nightmares
were the cause of the deep purple bags under his eyes that contrasted harshly
with his oddly pale but olive-skinned tone and he’d let his black hair grow
into a wild, untamed mess, with his bangs falling messily into his eyes. He
could just hear Bianca screaming at him to take better care of himself. She’d
always bugged him to eat three healthy meals a day and drug him to the gym and
park with her at least twice a weak.
But she was gone. And so was his ability to put effort into caring about
himself. He could just imagine how much her heart would break if she saw his
wrists. But again, she would never be able to because she was dead. Dead
because of her little brother.
He dug the knife in a little deeper and blankly watched the red deep out of the
self inflicted wound. All of a sudden the hair on the back of his neck stood on
end and he glanced around uneasily, feeling eyes on his. But a sweep of the
room and a look out the window confirmed he was alone. Shaking his head at his
own paranoia, Nico sloppily bandaged his wrist and tugged on a black hoodie,
but went to lay in bed with a book, resigned to wait until Persephone knocked
to let him know breakfast was ready. One he never ate, but was forced to sit at
in uncomfortable silence.
It was going to be another exhausting day.
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