#OOOOO HE SURE BLUSHIN

[gentledeaths-arc]

the prince lays comfortably with his head in thanatos' lap and he's looking up with adoration in his mismatched gaze. there's a terrible softness and a warm look on his face. "you look so pretty, than," he mumbles quietly, reaching to trace gentle death's jaw slowly. 💜

#CALLTHANPRETTY2021   /   @godbanes  :  ZAGREUS.

DEATH APPROACHES  .   —  it was cold in the house of hades. to say that something was so cold that it bothered lord death was a hyperbole in and of itself. naturally, upon first complaint, the prince zagreus had offered an alternative : to lay with him for just a moment, to be warmed by the prince’s touch in the downtime he had between this reaping and the next. soft eyes pleaded with him and a careful touch to his arm sealed the deal.

here they are, though, wrapped up in one-another in the bed commissioned from the house contractor, in quite the interesting pose. than sits upright, a book in one hand with the blankets of the bed pulled neatly across his body while the prince lays atop those blankets (but underneath a throw), head in thanatos’ lap and daze attached to the serious concentration that death was affording the text. intermittently, thanatos’ fingers have curled through zagreus’ hair, intertwining and releasing stygian locks in an attempt to pacify the prince’s rampant desire to want to shift and move. lulled into relaxation by the muffled sound of orpheus’ singing from the next room, they lay like this together for some time, enjoying the reprieve they were afforded.

it is hard being a member of the house, even now that things are changing for the better. the wars come one after the other, with famines every winter. the greeks get sick, or they are influenced by ares, or they are met with some other UNGRACEFUL END. when you are zagreus, you do not have to be cognizant of the happenings of the surface or the underworld to know that it is hard being a member. the crown sits heaviest atop his head, and in moments like this, thanatos wonders if his cold touch, his gentle touch ever helps with the burden he bears alone.

you look so pretty, than.

‘ i - what? ’   thanatos is pulled from his reading and his musing, book closing slowly and looking down at zagreus just as the prince trails his fingers across his jaw. it takes all of his willpower not to lean into his beloved’s touch, and he fails miserably, tilting his head against the other’s fingers so that he might kiss them, hold them in his own now that he was not holding the book. PRETTY. zagreus had just called him pretty. sure, he was an attractive entity : the greeks made him so. but underneath this body was a monster of disgusting proportion. he was, after all, born of the being that was born of chaos, and zagreus was familiar with the twisting proportions and winged appendages that than’s forebearer had. would he still call thanatos pretty, if he knew what thanatos looked like, TRULY ? 

the thought is not given much more mind, a black flush creeping up his throat just as it had a week ago. ‘ megaera told you, then ? ’ thanatos asks, embarrassed as he hides behind zagreus’s hand. his face disappears into the other’s palm, pressing it against his cheek while he disappears. sorry, death can’t come to the phone right now, will you take a message ?  ‘ i should have known the two of you would gang up on me when you saw how f-flustered i appear to be at that particular compliment. ’ 

swallowing his pride, he places a final kiss to zagreus’ palm, letting it go and opening the book once more. ‘ but . . . thank you, beloved. you’re beautiful, as well. but you don’t need me to tell you that. ’