#Strike Thanatos

[olligane]

i've been slowly working on a Hades Soul Eater AU and they're eating my mind. Than is a Death Scythe for obvious reasons that I could not ignore. Zag can shift between any of his aspects. Thanatos was probably always a weapon, but Zagreus definitely didn't find out he was a weapon until he and Than were already working together.

Lord Death is actually Hades and Nyx trapped in a city together for the good of the world and Barely Tolerating it. They miss their wife tales.

if you like this, please consider interacting with my [concluded] poll about what keychains i should make! any feedback is appreciated as always, and i take doodle requests for any fandom in my carrd or from previous art on my blog!

[echo-stimmingrose]

It's 1 in the morning and for whatever reason I am imagining the servants of Hades (i.e. Charon, the Furies, ect) unionizing.

[retrocgads]

UK 1987

[cthoniian]

“ it feels like i can’t breathe i— ” // for thanatos!

         she   proclaims   a   lack   of   breath,    and   for   a   moment   fear   strikes   the   immortal   deaths   heart.    he   is   at   her   side,    fingers   brushing   her   heaving   chest.    her   soul   does   not   come   to   his   touch,    he   cannot   see   the   tendrils   of   the   river   reaching   for   her.       this   is   not   something   that   she   cannot   overcome.    gently,   so   gently   his   hand   rests   against   her   sternum   -   leaning   closer   so   that   his   lips   just   brush   the   top   of   her   silver   hair. 

        guiding   her   hand   to   his   chest,    where   -   though   an   immortal   being   born   of   chaos   itself,    a   heart   beats   and   lungs   fill   with   air.    he   adjusts   that   breath   to   the   approximation   of   a   human's   needs.    and   murmurs   against   her   temple   as   his   lips   rest   there   --

         ‘    follow   my   breath.    feel   my   heart.    you   are   here.    and   there   will   be   none   who   can   harm   you.    ’ 

     the   dreams   she   was   experiencing   he   cannot   follow   her   to,    he   cannot   save   her   from   the   things   that   plague   her   mind   in   sleep.    that   is   the   realm   of   his   younger   brother,   and   one   he   does   not   meddle   in.    but   her   spirit   is   still   strong,    though   afraid.    and   he   has   never   seen   her   look   quite   so   young.    a   woman   who   never   truly   got   to   be   a   child.    how   many   lives   he's   seen   as   he   ushered   someone   from   this   life   to   the   next,   guided   them   to   the   river,   to   charon.

     but   death   has   touched   this   life   too   often.    a   mother.   a   father.   two   brothers.   a   son.   a   husband.    deaths   alone   enough   to   wage   war   on   such   a   spirit,    but   even   now   she   wages   her   own   battles   against   loyalties   and   betrayers.    but   she   rules   –   she   rules   and   protects.    

             ‘    i’m   right   here   –   just   take   a   breath…   ' 

answered prompt for @kaerinio // from thanatos.

[godseeker-yharim]

Christ on a BIKE The Final Dawn doesn't mess around.

[cripplemagics]

dynamic tags

(if you would like one please reply to this post so i can make one!)

feat. @mooneternyl @danceapocalyyptic @arcaneprophesied (multiple times lmao) @luposcainus @cxmemeetmymonsters

[forgeofthenine]

PLEASE spare crumbs for more Hypnos headcanons? 🥺 Both N/SFW?

I'm not taking requests at the moment but I can't help but love my man Hypnos, hopefully you enjoy this small smattering of headcanons anon as it is just pure brainrot.

CW: NSFW under the cut, sleepy sex, possibly but not really exhibitionism

Hypnos SFW and NSFW headcanons

SFW

There really is no sweeter boyfriend than Hypnos, no one even comes close

Despite how lazy he might seem, spending most of his time sleeping and all, he actually pays plenty of attention with anything that pertains to you

It's almost funny watching the way he perks up and peeks from behind his eye mask as soon as your name is mentioned

His affection doesn't stop his corny jokes, however

Expect some sort of comment every time you see him

Now you're dating some of them even have a more flirtatious undertone, though that's mostly kept in private

I do feel like Hypnos would love for you to meet his family, he has so many family members and all of them are dear to him

He especially likes if you end up being close to his Mother

Hypnos is very fond of physical attention too, any time he can be touching you he will

Definitely drags you on top of him to nap, just wraps you up against him all snuggly in his blanket cloak thing

NSFW

I feel like Hypnos is just as sweet in bed as he is out of it

He definitely has a bit of a variable libido, he goes through phases where he needs a little encouragement and others where he can't keep his hands off you

Thanatos has definitely chastised his brother for getting too handy with you on public

When he gets you in private, all bets are off

Huge fan of clothed sex and it's almost entirely because of his laziness

Hypnos is more than happy to half undress you and bend you over his bed when the mood strikes him

Also, the king of sweet morning sex

All tired and sleepy, bleary eyes as hands roam just a little too far

Before you know it, You're pressed tight to his chest as he thrusts into you slowly and whispers praises against your hair

He loves feeling you close against him, even if he might not be able to meet your eyes

Just the way you feel so so soft against his fingers, so real

Hypnos loves holding your hands while making love, I don't take criticism about this

[rose-warlock]

So....I didn't wanna be that person but

Six Hundred Strike ending with Ody beating Poseidon makes....Alot more sense then anime Logic.

A) The Using The Weapon of a God against them!

Each God has several Specific symbols and of course weapons. Odysseus can't cast or channel God power but a Trident is a Trident! 🔱 You can use it like a Spear! A weapon most Greeks are trained in along with Swords.

B) The Gods Getting Beaten or Tricked by Humans happens...like a lot.....

-That Time Aries was trapped in a Jar

-That Time Tantalus Made the Gods eat his Kid in meat dish

-That Time Thanatos was Chained and locked in a box!

Like there's no Shortage of clever Greeks catching The Gods Lacking in Myths, Can't kill them never....but put them in tough positions. 3-5 Business Days Ngl!

Soooo Odysseus...Using Aeolus Windbag (God Item #1) Holding Posideons Storm (God Item #2) and using the speed of the combined energies to Knock him down (Reminder Poseidon has also been After him for like 10 years too). Then Stab him with his own Personal Trident (God Item #3) Several times...is Iconically The ABSOLUTE MOST! A Greek had to do to best a God... Proportional when you think about it being one of the Big 3.

[And That's Not assuming the Souls of the Departed channel through Odysseus]

[just-french-me-up]

For the kiss prompts, Dreamling and joy, happiness, or adrenaline?

@just-j-really said : I meant joy, /habit/ or adrenaline lol. Should've just used the numbers.

How about I give you joy AND adrenaline? I can't get Olympics AUs out of my skull so here it comes! This is 100% inspired by Manon Apithy-Brunet's victory and what came afterwards! Also Death is called Thana in this, cause I couldn't have her go around named Death, so Thana, because Thanatos and all that

"And we're back with James Anderson at the Grand Palais, where the men's foil final is about to begin."

"Indeed, Anne. Team GB's chance to snatch the first gold medal of its history in men's foil fencing! The stakes are high at the Grand Palais tonight, but Team GB can count on Morpheus Endless after the stellar performances he gave us earlier today."

"It's going to be one for the ages!"

"It sure is!"

**

11-13

Hob had lost any semblance of control over his nerves ten touches ago, his legs bouncing up and down relentlessly while his eyes burnt holes into the piste below. Two touches. Two touches to strike gold. He could do it. He was so close.

The South Korean fencer on the other side of the piste wouldn't go without a fight, though. Morpheus was faster, but his opponent was taller, more imposing, covering more ground. Every touch scored was given right back, filling the Grand Palais with the deafening roar of the audience. It is too loud, Hob kept telling himself. He hates it when it's loud. It was everything, the lights, the sounds, the screams... God the overstimulation going on under that mask, he could not even fathom.

Morpheus lunged forward, aiming at the South Korean's flank. Hob felt his breath catch in his throat.

12-13

The room exploded again, members of the audience standing up, waving flags and signs. Hob buried his head in his head.

"God, I can't even watch."

"He's going to be alright," Thana told him, her hand braced against his knee.

Before Hob could look up, cheers erupted again, louder still. Thana's fingers tensed around his knee.

"Fuck! Who scored?"

"He's almost there! He's going to make it! Hob, he's going to make it!"

12-14

One more. One more to the title of Olympic fucking Champion. Hob hadn't even noticed he'd stood from his seat, his heart beating in his ears. He could not even hear the crowd. All he could focus on were the lights. Red or green. Red. It had to be red. Please let it be red. The South Korean came at Morpheus, lunging forward. Morpheus parried, lunged, fleche at the ready.

The red light blinked, sending the Grand Palais into a frenzy. It happened all so quickly, Morpheus yanking off his mask, his face glowing both with pride and relief, erupting in a disbelieving chuckle as the audience chanted his name, Thana's arms squeezing Hob tight, her voice saying words he could not make out under the uproar surrounding them. He did it! He fucking did it!

He didn't know at what point his entire body had decided to move, but Hob found himself rushing down the stairs leading to the pistes. Security met him at the bottom, preventing him from going any further.

"I'm his husband!" he kept saying, oblivious to the fact he and the man standing in his way probably didn't speak the same language. "I'm his husband! I'm―"

In a desperate attempt at communication, he waved his athlete badge under the man's nose. That seemed to do the trick, as the security guard stepped aside, leaving Hob free range to run up to the piste.

His chest could have burst from pride seeing Morpheus there, victorious, facing the crowd, sweat dripping from his brow, years of effort and sacrifice leading him to that very moment. Morpheus Endless, gold medalist, Olympic Champion.

As their eyes met, something in Morpheus seemed to give, all the pressure escaping his body as he fell to his knees, letting go of his foil to wrap his arms around Hob, the strength in them gone as the crowd and cameras, everything other than them, vanished.

"You did it," Hob took his face in his hands, ecstatic. "You did it, duck! You did it!"

Morpheus could barely speak, going from uncontrollable laughter to choked sobs. He pressed his forehead to Hob's before kissing him hard, salt, exhaustion and gold in his tongue. Hob leant into him, his hand combing the back of his hair, bringing them closer. The cameras probably got an eyeful, but who cared. Gold medalist was a once every four years kind of title.

And he couldn't wait for Morpheus to kiss him in front of the whole world again in 2028.

Send me a kissing prompt?

[rowanisawriter]

Thanatos smells it before he sees it, the blood, the iron scent of it filling the air between them. He feels his feet hit the ground as he leans in for a closer look. Blood, red and thick and bright, droplets of it pooling to the surface of Zagreus’s palm, reflecting the embers that rise from the laurels in his hair. Something strikes Thanatos then, in his chest, an uneven feeling. If he didn’t know better, he would call it fear.

from reaching

thank you, beloved ana @littlewitchbee for this gorgeous art and for indulging me while i rant about hades near constantly 🩶

[idyllcy]

你还爱我吗? 我还爱你。

word count: 5.3k || Banner art by pimientosdulces

warnings: hurt no comfort

summary: death, you can not escape, yet Thanatos prays you will

No one escapes death. No one cheats death. and no one never meets death more than necessary.

Most of the people around you fall again and again, death incarnate a long-familiar face to you as you watch him claim your family, leaving you all alone. You know the reason, your family worships someone long-fallen, someone that would result in the rage of Olympus up above. You have no feelings, tending to the temple as one after the other falls, until there is no one left but you. You find that the benefit is that you will never age. Forever alone in the small temple your family built, only death capable of claiming you. You have not cheated death. Death has cheated the underworld, perhaps. You find no reason to be treated as such.

Your sister is next, and as you sit next to her bed, eyes closed, humming a final song to her, listening to the way her breath slowed and her heart faded. When she passes, you continue sitting there, waiting for an old presence to return next to you.

"Fair maiden."

"Death." You nod. "Am I next?"

"I do not know. I am simply assigned people. I do not choose them." He nods at you as you let go of your sister's hand, eyes stuck on her body as Thanatos returns her to the dead, placing her into Charon's boat. "Do you have her fare?"

You rummage through your pockets, handing him the obon prepared for your sister.

"You are the final one. Is there a reason the gods wish for you all to be eradicated?"

"We are traitors." You smile, lips curled upwards as Thanatos stares down at you, unfamiliar warmth crawling up the back of his neck at your visage. Death does not fold nor wait for anyone. Death does not pardon the living. Death claims who it needs to with the embrace of eternity, soul laid to rest in the Underworld as the living continue.

Yet, he never brings you back when you are requested of by Hades.

"Do you wish to live?"

"It does not matter to me. The servants have died, and there is nothing left for me in this world. You are the only one who can come to claim me."

"Do you miss your family?" Thanatos notes the next assignment of his.

"It does not matter anymore."

"I will see you when it is your time."

Thanatos recalls the first time he had met you. When the ones on Olympus wished for the eradication of a family of Chronos worshippers, your father was claimed first — as once you claim the head of the family, the rest will crumble ever so quickly. Your father passed through the strike of lighting, a clear warning to stop what was happening in your abode, yet no one batted an eye. You had stayed by your father's side as his firstborn, the man bearing no sons, and you had looked at him — something that should not have been possible for a person of the realm of the living.

"This is his obol." You had mentioned. "May he be placed where he is deemed fit."

Thanatos had not talked to you — your age far too young for you to understand just what was happening, and he had left as quickly as he had arrived. It is not as though he had never seen a child by the body of the dead, but the sight of you alone was unnerving. Perhaps it is just a cruel thing of fate. It was cruel that someone as fair as you would be visited so many times by he.

The next, it is your mother. Once again, it had been you, and you had handed him the obol that was to be placed with the dead. You are in mourning clothes, still, and you hold the hand of your mother, even as her body is cold. Thanatos can not trace the grief that wracks your soul and body. You are weighed down by something, and perhaps, it is something that will kill you some day. Perhaps the weight of death has long become something you have grown used to, only in the people you tend to in the temple and not the people of your own home. Perhaps you know that committing a treason will get you nowhere.

"You can see me." He speaks this time, but he does not respond to you when you ask him if he knows why.

Your mother's body is passed along the River Styx, and you return to tending to the Temple of Time. Thanatos knows the end will arrive for you soon, but considering the ages of every worshipper there was in the temple, you would not change all that much the next couple times he meets you. You are blessed to stay forever young, cursed to meet death at the hands of all the Olympians. Your family is blessed to stay in their youth, but cursed to be unable to escape death. Thanatos will be meeting you many more times in the future, and he finds that perhaps he has no chance or right to complain. If you are not complaining, then how could he?

"My sister." You hand him the obol, nodding as he takes the first of your sisters.

"Do you mourn?"

"What is there to mourn when you are in the wrong?" You hum. "May they be blessed with their stay in Asphodel."

Thanatos finds that you do not age after that. Time is on your side, a titan long forgotten and locked away by the people, a world in which you would be struck down by the heavens as result of such. Yet, you continue tending to the temple, perhaps wishing that you would keep your youth, rosy complexion, and dazzling lashes, skin healthy and unblemished, forever in your youth as a result of such. Perhaps you have sold your soul to become the way you are. Perhaps, he is no better than mortals who wage wars to destroy each other over beauty. Perhaps, if it ever would come to it, Thanatos would have his hands stained with far more than what Ares could ever dream of being stained with — all over you.

Your aunt is claimed next, and at that point, the worshippers have learned to stop visiting the temple. He does not recall if he had ever seen your aunt in the temple when he passed by to claim your parents, but he does not think too much of it. You had been the only one to ever be by the dead, perhaps as an offering to calm Thanatos at the sight of you — or, perhaps you were simply placed there because you had been the fairest of your sisters. Perhaps it was meant to please Thanatos, and it would have been a lie for him to say it did not.

"My aunt has no children." You hand him the fare, fingers brushing his palm, bowing gently as he takes her.

His gaze lingers on you for longer than acceptable, and he leaves once more.

You do not learn. Your family does not learn, and before long, it is your uncle, your sister, your cousin, your elders. By the final time that Thanatos arrives, it is one of your final two sisters.

Thanatos has long grown used to the sight of you, youth on your skin, apple of your cheeks, from your hair to your feet, Thanatos could have imagined you with a close of his eyes, perhaps heart-racing at the thought of you. He has fallen for you, just through your knowing of death. Perhaps, he will never be loved back, death far too cold for the average person — perhaps his skin would freeze yours over, and you would be cursed with the grasp of death, and the thought was far more fearful than he would have believed it to be.

Yet, he arrives to bring one of your final sisters to the dead, holding his palm out for the obol in your hand, and he stares at your hair, the way you do not bat an eye at death himself, and it ruins his mind with thoughts of perhaps letting you live forever. Perhaps, your age will never catch up with you, and you would become someone he hides from the House of Hades — someone that he would adore to no end and let live for eternity. Though, not that he has the choice.

"You do not learn." He blinks at you.

"No, I do not." You smile, staring death in the eyes as your youngest sister peeks from the door, watching you speak to the air. "Death, I do not wish for my sister to bury me. If they request one of our souls, do assure me that the youngest will live to see Elysium."

"I can not make such exceptions."

"It was worth the attempt." He takes your sister, body reaped as you watch her disappear.

"Adelphḗ, who are you talking to?"

"I told you not to come inside." You turn around to shield her eyes, Thanatos's gaze lingering on the small of your back as your sister peeks past your fingers to stare at death himself. She can not see him. Only you are the exception.

"Who is next?"

"I do not know."

"I can not hear him." She mumbles. "Perhaps you possess the blessing of Hades himself."

"No. There is no such thing." You hum. "Shall we go?"

"And leave death alone?"

"He is gone." You turn to stare at him again, and he nods.

"Until my assignment brings my return."

"Will you be next?"

"No." You promise. "I will not let anyone force you to bury your sister alive."

"Then I am next?"

"You will find mother and father before I do." You hum. "Though, I can not promise it will happen."

"You have buried us all. Must you bury me too?"

"I can not protect you against the gods." You close your eyes. "You may refrain from your duties tonight. Perhaps they will be less angered if you do so."

Your servants are the ones taken next. No matter how far they ventured from the temple, had they worked for your family, they are returned to death. You send them their fare to the underworld, and Thanatos learns to visit you for the fare instead of returning to the body eventually. The servants do not have the fare for the underworld, and you, their ever-loving master, do. So, you pay their obol, coins in your hand as Thanatos arrives at your place, resting in the corner of the room until your sister has left and it is you alone.

"Another one?" There is a sense of exhaustion that wracks deep in your soul that only Thanatos can feel.

"I can not go against it, fair maiden." He takes the obol from you, and you take note of the coldness of his skin.

"May I pay in advance?"

"You may not."

"Very well." You hum. "There are four left. If I am not in our home at the time, please pull open the drawer to take the obol."

"Do you not worry that death will cheat you?"

"What is there for death to cheat me of?"

Thanatos finds that you are right. When he is free of assignments, he lingers around your abode, watching your youngest sister learn to cook from you, noting down the way you ignored his presence no matter how close he was to you. He is respectful, yet he watches, eyes glued to the way your fingers have grown rougher from the housework, smile on your face, still, as your sister asks you to help her out. The indomitable human spirit exists, he finds. It is the same as the warrior who fights after a limb is hacked off on the battlefield, and the mother who uses the last of her dying energy to nurse her child. You do not waver even with the death of your family, responsibility long shrouded on your shoulders and no longer something you pay attention to.

"Rest well, Agape." You brush her hair to the side, making sure the young one is rested before you get up to return to your own quarters.

"She is next." Thanatos tells you.

"It is decided?"

"You must be the one to kill her." Thanatos hums. "Will you?"

"No." You laugh. "Once she is gone, I may return to my family as well."

Thanatos stares at you, watching as you lean against the wall, moon pale against your skin as you laugh. Perhaps in a sense of desperation, but the white coat of the moon is enough for him to quietly pray that you would become someone of his sort. Perhaps, you would gain the eternity that so many mortals longed for — that you would become a god as Heracles had. Yet, his thoughts are fleeting, for there was no way that Hades himself would grant death to leave you to stay in your youth for eternity.

"How are they?"

"They are in Asphodel."

"I know." You close your eyes, brows furrowed slightly as you calm yourself down. "Eternal damnation is slightly better when with family, no?"

"And if you do not end up in Asphodel?"

You raise a brow. "My bloodline and ancestry is cursed to Asphodel. What would make me different?"

"Death's favor?"

"That is preposterous." You laugh. "Though, I appreciate it, death."

"Thanatos. Refer to me by name, maiden."

You stare at him, shaking your head.

It would be rude.

Your sister passes just as quickly as the rest of your family, her body placed on the bed for death as Thanatos comes to collect the Obon.

"Death." You are much more stricken with a grief and exhaustion — of equal amounts with the men of age who had fought in wars and found that it was all in vain when they are sent to Asphodel. It is something disturbing, even to death, but he does not have the luxury to consider such when he claims each soul. He is not to be moved during his assignments, no matter how often he met you or others. You should not be special to him.

"Do you wish to live for eternity?"

"Of what use is it if I do not age?" You hum.

"Change the temple."

"I can not." You shake your head. "Death, I will be struck down by one more, one far more powerful than the rest."

"Time can not destroy you."

"Time can." You stare him in the eye. "Time can wither me or return me to the form I was before birth. It is terrifying... something far more horrific than death."

"Then die." He offers you his hand, and you stare at it.

"When my assignment is sent in, will you grant me a wish?"

"You long for a wish?"

"Perhaps I do." You smile coyly, and Thanatos wonders just if he was the one being kind or you were the one being cruel.

Perhaps you are simply taking advantage of him. So, when death returns to take you, you are gone. He follows your soul, and it remains forever stored in the Temple of Time, unable to track you down by flesh alone. You have cheated death. You are cruel, yet he finds that it does not matter. You did not long for something that others would have. Your human spirit was not indomitable, and it was nowhere near as strong as the men of war. You have lost all that chains you to the earth, so it would only be so long until you returned to retrieve your soul and return to the dead.

"You failed to retrieve the soul?"

"It is chained in the Temple of Time that you had wished for to be eradicated. I can not claim the soul without the body." Thanatos reports. "Let me retrieve the person."

"You can not do such a thing." Hades bellows. "If death chases a single individual, what will become of the others who need to pass?"

"Keres." Thanatos speaks.

"No." Hades turns him down. "Rather, I will send someone else."

It is proved to be futile when your soul is never retrieved, and Thanatos finds that you are gone.

"Let me do it." He argues again. "Moros can only do so much as the doom incarnate. To that soul, their doom is not death."

Hades lets Thanatos do the job, though begrudgingly. He has a couple of hours in between assignments to locate your body to retrieve you back to where you belong. You are not found for a long time, and he finds that at one point, the gods fade, their influence over the mortal realm dwindling as they do. Thanatos remains with the rest of the family, finding that there are others who deal with the dead alongside him in regions not limited to Greece. He will not find you, he believes. So, he jars your leftover soul, embedding it into his scythe, perhaps as a last attempt as a form of desperation to keep you close to him. He should not have fallen for you, yet he did, and it would have been the end of his life had it happened.

His companion, Zagreus takes notice the quickest.

"Thanatos, don't you believe... that you have changed? Who is this fair maiden? Perhaps I will find her at the surface."

"Don't say such nonsensical things, Zagreus. She is no longer in Greece."

"That is only what you believe, no? Surely she is out there."

"That is not possible."

"Oh, you wouldn't know until you get there yourself."

While searching for a satyr sack, Zagreus encounters a new chamber, blinking quickly as he enters, lack of rats and satyrs apparent as he continues walking through each door, the final one leading to a cloaked figure, lack of visible features, a gentle laugh on their lips as they blink at the godling. They take two steps back, a satyr sack in hand, stepping onto the red plate, and Zagreus follows suit, watching as they move Cerberus to the side for Zagreus to leave. It is a sight, the guardian of the underworld enjoying the smaller sack as Zagreus passes without issue.

"Lovely shade, who might you be?!" Zagreus calls, time short before Cerberus would remember that the prince isn't allowed to pass.

They do not answer, waving their hand at the prince instead.

The second time, Zagreus leaves them a bottle of nectar, a smile on his face as he thanks them, ruffling Cerberus' fur along the way, grinning.

"Shade, will you tell me your name?"

They shake their head, waving goodbye to the prince.

The shade is not present in the next handful of runs, and instead, only tens later does Zagreus find his way back through the gates of Charon's obol with no satyrs and rodents, standing before the hooded shade as they hand him the satyr sack this time, obol dropped in his hand as he nods. They would not be going with him this time, and perhaps, it was simply out of some sort of desperation.

"Dear shade, won't you tell me your name? Has death claimed you?"

The shade shakes its head, and Zagreus sighs.

"May this bottle of nectar keep you company." He hands it to the shade, bottle held as Zagreus runs off.

The prince of the underworld drops off bottles of nectar each time he runs into them, nectar turning to ambrosia before he starts bringing plush companions. He shows them the small mouse, death on it as the hooded figure reaches to brush the cheek of the plush, and Zagreus trusts that if they could talk, they would have called it cute. There is a sense of tenderness that only someone who knows would be able to feel for it. It is beautiful, Zagreus thinks. Perhaps Thanatos should know of them.

"There is this shade up by the Temple of Styx," Zagreus tries, introducing them to Thanatos slowly. "Are they claimed?"

"A shade? Or a real person?"

"I do not know." Zagreus hands him a bottle of ambrosia. "They do not speak."

"I do not see how that is of my concern." Thanatos raises a brow, accepting the drink.

"Call it reincarnation's instinct." Zagreus hums. "Or, call it a prince's fleeting thoughts."

Thanatos pays Zagreus no mind, sending the dead on their way to each region of the Underworld as instructed, too busy for such fleeting thoughts of the prince's words. Zagreus may have a point, but without a voice and characteristics, there is no way to determine whether or not it was truly you. Besides, with your soul chained to his scythe, there was no way you would have been able to enter the temple without notifying him in some way. Hades would have noted if the intruder had there been a disturbance. It is not death's job to clean up such things.

Yet, the prince does not stop, bottle after bottle handed to him, always nudging death to take a peek at the "dear shade," refusing to let Thanatos erase such a shade from his presence.

"Zagreus." Thanatos warns. "I will not do such a thing."

Zagreus shrugs. "It would not hurt, Thanatos."

Thanatos finds it childish.

Yet, Zagreus returns to the shade when he can, bottle of nectar replaced with Ambrosia as he laughs, grinning as the shade thanks him with their hands, words never coming out.

"Oh, dear shade, won't you tell me who you are?" He hums, smiling as the shade does not move its head, tracing gentle patterns on Zagreus' skin instead, letters spelling out gratitude and none else.

"Perhaps you are bound?"

The shade shakes its head, and Zagreus is sent on his way again.

Surely, the shade was who Thanatos was looking for.

"Than, I really think you should see them." Zagreus insists. "You must trust me."

"Zagreus, I have work to attend to."

"I know, but it is not so." Zagreus shakes his head. "During a break when you seek the soul that you have been for so long, visit the chamber of coins in the Temple of Styx."

Thanatos truly does not wish to, too focused on retrieving your soul, but he makes the time for his dear friend. He enters the temple and flutters through the walls and doors, staring at the shade as they move their head to listen to the sound of the air changing. Thanatos does not understand how the shade would be you, but he understands how Zagreus could have mistaken it to be so. After all, the prince had only heard about you, never to meet you. You are two different people in his mind, the shade holding your physique but not your body. It is a strange sight to behold.

"Shade." He speaks. "Are you lost?"

The shade does not answer, simply shaking its head instead.

"Do you not speak?"

They shake their head.

Death does not linger, choosing to leave quickly instead.

It is strange for a shade to be misplaced, but it would be a report from his end rather than a whole ordeal done by him to return the shade. The shade is not special enough for him to tend to, yet Zagreus insists that he continue to return to the shade, even if the shade does not return an answer to him. Zagreus insists that this is the shade, and that Thanatos must be the one to discover and recall that on his own. Yet, Thanatos refuses to accept the reality that you are perhaps the shade, stuck in a circle of denial as he returns again and again to the shade's silence to his questions, only a nod and shake of a head available to death himself.

Perhaps, he is longing for something that he can not have.

And as all things are, Thanatos grows increasingly agitated at the shade's lack of response to some questions, bottle tipping over as it spills and cracks all over the floor, stuck as he raises his voice at a shade that has done no wrong to him. He is stuck, pondering, wondering, longing and craving the feeling of your fingers against his palm when you handed him the obol, eyes wide in frustration at a shade that does not speak and chatter as the other shades do. He is cursed to be unable to see you again, and even if he does, he knows he can not delay the inevitable that he will have to kill you.

"TALK TO ME." Thanatos raises his voice, reaching for their hood, throwing it off as he stares down at you in horror, tears in his eyes at the lack of features. Your face does instinctually tilts up, but you can not see the face of the death that you have grown so used to. Instead, there is nothing. You lack a face, and Thanatos understands just why you had chosen to remain silent around him all the times before. It was not a choice. Your skin is unblemished and smooth, eyes and nose missing, as though you were a body lacking a soul — a blank canvas that would hurt someone to look at for too long.

"You are faceless. My fair maiden, you are faceless." He brushes his thumb over what would have been your cheek, eyes weary and soul tired as he rests his forehead onto where yours should have been. His fingers are cold against the lukewarm skin on your face, his soul weighed down by the reality he had chosen to ignore, tired and refusing to accept that the end of your tale would be here in the Temple of Styx. "Here, this belongs to you."

Thanatos returns your soul, your face returning, a smile on your face that Thanatos had engrained into his mind, burned into the depths of his memories, fearing that the years he reaped souls would catch up to him and erase all of your presence in his mind. Your visage is returned, complexion never changing, youth forever engrained in the gentleness of your skin. Your eyes open first, staring up at death as he is floating, exhausted smile on his face as you look up at him with a fondness that perhaps only you could have felt for something so many despised in the world.

"I am sorry, death." You smile sadly, heart sour in your chest as he stares at you. You reach for the bottles of nectar and ambrosia next to you, handing them to death himself as he grimaces. There is no happy ending fated for the two of you. Death can not love the living, as all things will pass through his hands, only to end up in the underworld in a place that he will not have the time to visit. It will kill him and eat him alive, hurting him until there was nothing left, and he would have become the cold and senseless death that so many people feared.

Yet, yet, yet, Thanatos wondered if you could be the one to save and help him. Perhaps, in your hands, death would be a little warmer, a blanket thrown over a child when they are young, the embrace of a parent that has long left the earth, or the tranquility that one would feel in a field of emptiness with just the night sky. Perhaps, with your hands in his, he could be a death that people learn to accept and not fear, and that he would become a symbol of a restful death, rather than as a sentence to eternal damnation. He longs to be what you have learned to see him as, but neither of you have a choice in the matter.

Death will be feared regardless of who it is accompanied by.

"Do not apologize." He whispers, staring at you as his hands freeze in place and he is unable to move. He wants to comfort you, but the touch of death will forever be cold no matter how warm and loving he wishes to come off as. You will only feel the piercing ice of death, not the warmth and sweetness of life that he so wanted you to feel. He can not be the comfort he longs to give you. He will hurt you more than heal, and your soul will break even with the gentlest of moments together. You will not live as long as you are by his side.

"I believe it is time for my soul to be reaped." You smile. "It was a pleasure being acquainted with death himself. If there is a next life, may I be someone immortal so that I would be able to hold death in my embrace, my skin warm against yours."

"Do not say that." Thanatos' grip tightens on his scythe, hands shaking as you look at him again.

"I am sorry, Thanatos." You smile sadly, eyes closed as he reaps your soul.

"No," He whispers gently, kneeling by your side as he holds your leftover body. "I am sorry, for even death himself can not bear to live without your beauty"

And you return to the Styx, eyes closed as Charon carries you off to be registered with Hypnos.

He stares at your face, and Thanatos sighs.

"I can not save her."

Charon response with a groan.

"Is that so? She will not get her body back."

A rumble.

"And what do you suppose I do?"

Charon lifts your body from the boat, handing you to Thanatos as he takes you, eyes glued to your empty chest as Thanatos understands.

"Really? Master Hades will not like that."

"Nhhhhhrg."

"If you insist."

Death has no chambers, as they are only a formality, yet Thanatos wonders if this was simply what the fates had wished for as he lays your body in his bed. You are peaceful, eyes closed, empty hole in your chest as he stares, regret wracking his body as he stares at you for as long as he can without growing nauseous. He should not have reaped you. He should have brought you to death and chained a sentence to his heart to let you live, to beg and kneel to stay beside you — yet he can not do so any longer. You are nothing more than dead now. Not even death himself can return you to life.

Your body is safe, and only your soul remains to be saved.

Thanatos leads your dead soul through Hypnos and then seals it away again into his scythe, waiting for the chance to return it to your dead body, waiting for the day you would be seen again, for a day that he would have the time.

And when he gets the chance, he returns your soul, fingers brushing your hair as he waits an eternity for you to wake back up, death a long thing of the past, as rumored that the cold death that gave a warm embrace was replaced by Hades himself, swift snap of fingers, brought in by the boatman, yet death nowhere in sight, longing for the warm fingers of the person he had found he could not live without. Death remains by her bedside, eyes closed for the eternity that his love would have her eyes closed, two resting side by side in a blessing of sleep by his brother.

And there is a rumor, that the swift death of the past is replaced by the slow death of doom and sleep, by the violent death of Keres, for the death that our ancestors felt is waiting for the return of his lover from himself. That his soul would lead her out of the eternity of darkness, and her eyes would open and he would cry, warmth of her fingertips on his skin as he closes his eyes to thank Olympus above.

But, until then, the doom of mankind is inevitable.

[urne-buriall]

one strange thing that happened when breaking up the work into day-of updates was that splitting chapters in two (or more) affected some of the deliberate purpose in why scenes were grouped together. this short update contains a fatalistic blowjob that is immediately related to the previous scene where Bobby broaches the subject of John's financial control over Dean

one of the insidious parts of abuse here is that Dean has no way out because at 18 he doesn't have his own bank account and virtually all his work is for his farm & household. this was introduced back when he had the Girl Scouts at the farm, and he hopes for cash instead of a cheque so that he might get to keep it. even when he picks up odd jobs to help others, it's limited because he's needed more at the farm. even in farming families, it's not unusual to pay your kids for chores (there are tax breaks available too when they are paid employees). and a supportive parent would want to encourage earning and saving money from your hard work, but for John it's more advantageous when he controls everything and Dean can't leave. confronted by this, Dean spirals and feels out of control and powerless and hopeless

which manifests in this moment, which you could read as soft and romantic but which to me is always bittersweet. because all Dean can see is the world falling apart around him and it's made him desperate not to miss out on this good thing while it lasts. yes he wants to give/have pleasure, but he also is afraid that if he doesn't take what he can now he'll never have it because he's doomed

when it comes to a literary motif, the concept of mortido, the death drive, has always fascinated me. a tendency towards self-destruction that may look like other things. while its opposite is libido, which is energy and life and sex, we can also use sex to try and feel something or to self-sabotage or to seek out control of when it seems to be slipping out of our grasp. sex is also the "little death", and in this moment eros and thanatos are two sides of the same coin. feeling helpless, this is one thing that Dean can make a choice about and take action that brings pleasure/reward. at the same time, he fully knows he could be hurting himself because it brings him closer to the thing he fears he'll lose

august 5, 1997

like it weren’t the whiskey what he were tryna savour

[bvckbiter]

sighs... TA the old guard au where the second titanomachy happened in ancient times and the demigods who survived the retributive post-war manhunt are cursed to never die by injury and sickness - up until a random unknown time when Thanatos is allowed to take them. basically they live as mortals (i.e. sleep, eat) and never know which fatal injury will be forever their last.

more tidbits about this au in my head:

the original core group was silena, chris, lee, lou ellen, al, and ethan. they dont know if there are any more of them out there, but in any case, they initially travelled together.

chris was the first one to strike out when he saw that the group was seriously considering reinstigating a third titanomachy; he was only loyal to luke and even then that began to fray when luke was getting too controlled by kronos; eventually reconnected with clarisse, who got promoted to being a minor god (or a constellation, idk just some lower form of immortality) after the war

silena left when she fell in love with a mortal (beckendorf), who coincidentally served in one of clarisse's temples. chrisse/charlena polycule U R REAL TO ME! but tragically, beckendorf died and now silena travels the world looking for his reincarnations. [whispers] chris and silena foils...

lee tried to keep the group together after that, but al was furious that the group had given up on revenge and took lou ellen with him

while they're facing off against an enemy magic user, lou ellen tanked a spell to buy al some time for the needed incantation, thinking that she was going to recover. spoiler: she did not, and they all felt it when she passed in al's arms. and that's how they discovered that any fatal injury could be their last, and they would never know when it wouldbe

ethan is the most do-good immortal among them, he's depressed as fuck but he will use what little energy he has towards helping demigod strays esp unclaimed kids towards a safe place. he's welcomed and remembered very fondly in rogue spaces

fast forward millennia later, the gods are no longer as involved with the mortal world - kind of like a silent era

if there is to be a fic about this two things would set the plot in progress: 1) luke's reincarnation suddenly starts recovering real quick from injuries, and 2) lee turns the gang in... to whom, i havent decided yet between a) a mortal pharma company, like in the movie, or b) some weakened deity that promises him he can end lee's life for some ulterior motive

[retrocgads]

UK 1987

[cthoniian]

she tells him she is unbreakable. the hesitation is not that he doubts that. he sees the strength that has tied her to this plane no matter how long she has suffered losses. but he sees something else. he sees the weariness, the wearing of her strength as allies become enemies and advisors offer poor wisdom.

he is not of this place, he cannot stay here to guide her. he cannot cast away her enemies. only when they fall can he come to her side to spirit away their souls to his brother, to catch them as they tumble from life to death. but she is his constant. as death is constant to so many, she is constant to him.

‘ i do not think you will shatter. but i see you — i see how tired you are of holding your spine stiff and straight. i see the shadows that flit through your thoughts unbidden as ghosts who hide in the dark. i hesitate because i do not know if my touch will ease these burdens or amplify. i do not know if death can shepherd peace and leave a soul living. ‘

pale digits flex at his side, a hand raising slowly to let a long silver braid twist around his fingers. thumb brushing down the length. a breath as he watched her, there is a peculiar intensity to his gaze. he is eternal, he has been here since the beginning, and he will be here at the end. but — he remains here, in the present, for her.

❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜ // thanatos & daenerys // @kaerinio

[simplegenius042]

OC/s as Greek Deitiey/s, Flower Aesthetics and "How Does My OC's Story End?" Quiz

Tagged by @raresbaby and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging Tagging @voidika @icecutioner @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink and @thesingularityseries + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Three OCs for each one of these, all coming from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters, An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. You can find the Quiz Here. Continue below the cut:

For the "OCs as Deities" I included OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts. Rule and stuff below:

bold = applies, italics = somewhat applies, strike = does not apply

ARCHIBALD THANATOS (THE UNTITLEDVERSE [THE OMNISCIENT RULE SAGA])

EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub (less so than his brother, Osmund Thanatos) • has a tattoo they regret (and he was born with it) • sex & love therapist for their friends (less so than his niece, Willow Thanatos) • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie• milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •

HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy (he's the current Head Patriarch in the House of Thanatos, he hates this shit) • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings •

PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles (as one of the few Old God Houses left, by process of circumstantial elimination he is, but he doesn't necessarily enjoy being involved in the politics itself) • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry •

NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony (key to being an (Old) God of Death) • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words •

HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions (appropriate for the current God of Death) • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes •

IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers •feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person •

PHILLIP (THE SILVER CHRONICLES AU [FAR CRY 5, FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie• milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •

HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown (more than the Voice does at least) • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings •

PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry •

NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t (he's a New God but yeah Phillip isn't as all-knowing and selfless as he should be) • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance (but ignores the fact he's ignorant himself) • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words •

HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions (appropriate for a New God) • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes •

IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers •feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person (in the wrong way possible)•

DISCORD, THE MAD KIN OF CARNAGE (AN OLD BALLAD OF CHANCE AND EMBER HEARTS TRILOGY)

EROS: • scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie• milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous •

HECATE: • prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings •

PAN: • enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry •

NEMESIS: • angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words •

HYPNOS: • very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs (these hugs kill) • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes •

IRIS: • life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers •feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura (quite the opposite actually) • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person •

For OCs as Flower Aesthetics I chose OCs from The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore. Rules and stuff below:

Rules: bold what applies to your oc. italics if somewhat applies.

MERCY OMAR-SEED (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY NEW DAWN] ❀ Daisy: Wears their heart on their sleeve. Soft voice. Minimalistic clothing. Laying in a field of tall grass. Walking barefoot. Puts other people’s happiness above their own.

✿ Bellflower: Very consistent friend. Happy face with sad eyes. Careful touches. Hiding a blush. Light giggles. Makes friends easily. Knows how to make you smile.

❀ Bleeding Heart: Hopeless romantic. Still laughs at dirty jokes (tries to hide it). Believes they can change the world. Caring looks. Dyed hair. Kisses on the cheek.

❀ Protea: Proud. Big gestures. African heritage. Blushes easily. Tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. Content where they are. Doesn’t love easily, but always deeply (nah loves easily and very deeply).

✿ Moonflower: Knowing smiles. Doesn’t open up easily (just like her mothers). Late night. Tired eyes. Soft skin. Not as innocent as they seem (having Azriel as an older sister doesn't really give a chance for this). Loose clothing.

✿ Sunflower: Big smiles. Always looking for the positive (desperately, especially for Silva). Lots of friends. Warm afternoons. Basking in the sun. Stares off into space a lot. Sitting in comfortable silence.

❀ Dandelion: Wishing for the impossible. Shooting stars. Light breezes through their hair. White clothing. Whispered secrets. Far off looks. Kind eyes.

RICO (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

❀ Daisy: Wears their heart on their sleeve. Soft voice. Minimalistic clothing. Laying in a field of tall grass. Walking barefoot.Puts other people’s happiness above their own.

✿ Bellflower: Very consistent friend (Johnny got lucky). Happy face with sad eyes. Careful touches. Hiding a blush. Light giggles. Makes friends easily. Knows how to make you smile.

❀ Bleeding Heart: Hopeless romantic. Still laughs at dirty jokes. Believes they can change the world. Caring looks. Dyed hair. Kisses on the cheek.

❀ Protea: Proud. Big gestures. African heritage. Blushes easily. Tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. Content where they are (who the fuck wants to be in Night City?). Doesn’t love easily, but always deeply (V and Sydney are his favorites and misses Johnny).

✿ Moonflower: Knowing smiles. Doesn’t open up easily. Late night. Tired eyes. Soft skin. Not as innocent as they seem. Loose clothing.

✿ Sunflower: Big smiles. Always looking for the positive. Lots of friends. Warm afternoons. Basking in the sun. Stares off into space a lot. Sitting in comfortable silence.

❀ Dandelion: Wishing for the impossible. Shooting stars. Light breezes through their hair. White clothing. Whispered secrets. Far off looks. Kind eyes.

FINIDY MONA (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT 2])

❀ Daisy: Wears their heart on their sleeve. Soft voice. Minimalistic clothing. Laying in a field of tall grass. Walking barefoot.Puts other people’s happiness above their own.

✿ Bellflower: Very consistent friend. Happy face with sad eyes. Careful touches. Hiding a blush. Light giggles. Makes friends easily. Knows how to make you smile.

❀ Bleeding Heart: Hopeless romantic. Still laughs at dirty jokes. Believes they can change the world. Caring looks. Dyed hair. Kisses on the cheek.

❀ Protea: Proud. Big gestures. African heritage. Blushes easily. Tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. Content where they are. Doesn’t love easily, but always deeply.

✿ Moonflower: Knowing smiles. Doesn’t open up easily. Late night. Tired eyes. Soft skin. Not as innocent as they seem. Loose clothing.

✿ Sunflower: Big smiles. Always looking for the positive. Lots of friends. Warm afternoons. Basking in the sun. Stares off into space a lot. Sitting in comfortable silence.

❀ Dandelion: Wishing for the impossible. Shooting stars. Light breezes through their hair. White clothing. Whispered secrets. Far off looks. Kind eyes.

Here are results for the "How does your OCs story end?" Quiz for OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters. Results below:

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

In The Perfect Storm and The Omniscient Rule sagas, sure (and even then those aren't at the end of his story), but other than those Joaquin's story doesn't end with betrayal, rather on a lighter note.

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY 5, FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

No. After everything Silva goes through, that'd be too cruel. I've got plenty of other characters for that. Closest thing this relates to Silva is "questions unanswered" and "desires unfulfilled"; Silva doesn't get satisfying answers after the Collapse and the tragedies she experienced prior, and she mourns the normalcy she only got to live for such a sparse time before tragedy, the Apostles, Eden's Gate, the Congregation and the Collapse denied her that chance. But she does get a rather good ending, a happiness she deserves.

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

Haoyu's fate in the last installment of Life, Despair & Monsters is left ambiguous and up for interpretation and never answered, just like everyone else who remained with them. However, Haoyu is not left alone in the dire situation they had no choice but to run in to, nor do they plead or cry, just accept whatever result comes next (though begrudgingly given Haoyu does just want to live).