#zagreus: shut up old man

[inthedarkofficial]

Homer, Hades 2: Sing, O Muse, of the saffron robed goddess, whose fair countenance was bathed in Selene’s light at the moment of her birth. Homer, Hades: The fire-stepping prince was lifted by Night from the cold ground, where his lord father had discarded him, outside Taco Bell.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Unbounded zine! I’m glad I don’t have to choose between “UST with ex” and “angsty bf” and can just have both.

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Megaera couldn’t stop Zagreus.

Not that it stopped her from trying. As he stepped into her arena once more, bruised and bloodied from his relentless journey through the underworld, she gripped her whip tightly and stepped into the center of the room. Despite herself, she had to admit there was something appealing about his bedraggled state, his torn clothes revealing just enough skin to entice.

“Zagreus,” she greeted firmly, pushing her feelings aside. Megaera was a professional in all the ways that mattered. There was a reason Lord Hades entrusted her with this position.

“Oh, it’s you again.”  Oblivious, Zagreus waved tiredly. His tunic shifted, revealing tanned skin and lean muscles, old scars and bloody bruises. The fight to her stadium must have been brutal, he looked more exhausted than normal. “Hiya, Meg.”

She should reprimand him for the nickname. It was utterly improper at work. Yet, pity or something like it stayed her tongue. Instead, she merely raised a brow and gestured at him. “Were the monsters that strong or are you just that weak?”

“Ouch. I see you haven’t lost your thorns.” Zagreus sighed, rolling back his shoulders. A particularly tantalizing string of bruises on his collarbone disappeared under his tunic as he stretched. It reminded her of another, steamier night when her teeth had left her mark. “Have you considered how tiring it is to get here?”

“You weren’t this beat-up last time.” Immediately, she clamped her jaw shut. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. Though it was true. It had only been weeks since he’d first made it to her post, but he had improved steadily throughout that time. Last time, he had barely a scratch when he’d knocked on her door.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll think you care.” Zagreus chuckled as he leaned against a pillar on the right side of the room. His legs wobbled and he slid down. “Say, Meg, can I have a moment to catch my breath? You wouldn’t want to beat a tired man, right? I doubt it’ll be any fun.”

She shouldn’t agree. Megaera took care of her work properly, keeping work and personal matters separate. Unlike her sisters, she always knew exactly where she was, who she was facing, and what she had to do.

“It wouldn’t be sporting. New weapon?” she asked, quietly sitting down next to him. Their shoulders bumped but she didn’t pull away. Maybe she was getting soft and sentimental with age. She’d have to beat it out later.

He closed his eyes, too tired to be surprised. It wouldn’t take much to send him back to the House of Hades, even a gentle tap would be enough. “Mmm. I can’t quite get the hang of it.”

“That’s surprising. Your only good trait is how fast you learn.” Megaera watched him from the corner of her eyes. She had known this profile for eons. One of these days, he’d actually make it to the top, and then what? Would he return? Would Lord Hades allow him to?

One of these days, he’d breeze through everything and the spot next to her would be empty.

“All thorns today, huh?” Zagreus chuckled. His shoulders relaxed and he was utterly unguarded. He shouldn’t trust her so much. “Did something happen?”

You. But that wasn’t a professional answer and this wasn’t a personal space. Megaera had never been one to talk about her feelings either way. She only knew how to dodge and pivot around such questions. “What’ll you do after you find your mother?”

“That…” Zagreus opened his eyes now, his voice faltering. He bit his lip as he considered her words. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I mean, I can’t even make it past my father yet.”

“Lord Hades is very strong,” Megaera agreed. There was a reason he was the ruler down here, a reason why the gods on Olympus didn’t dare even cross the threshold into this domain. Yet, even then, she was certain that Zagreus would beat him. Even if it was just once.

“Annoyingly so. I think he just likes beating me up.” Zagreus huffed, irritated. He crossed his arms and scowled like a petulant child. “He almost smiled last time.”

“Smiled?” Megaera couldn’t imagine it. Maybe back when Persephone had resided down here, though her memories of that time had faded long ago.

“I know.” Zagreus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up further. “Well, I’ve kept you waiting long enough, haven’t I?” He glanced at her, eyes crinkling slightly. “I don’t suppose you’d go easy on me, just this once?”

“Never,” she replied immediately.

“No hesitation. Thought so.” Zagreus laughed, though he didn’t sound put out. Slowly, he rose to his feet. “Then the hard way it is.”

It was impetuous. Megaera was many things, but she would never have called herself impulsive. Yet, before she could think about it, she abruptly grabbed his hand and yanked him back to the ground. His back hit the dirt and his head narrowly missed the pillar. There was probably a new bruise on him, one that would fade again once he died and returned to the house.

Zagreus groaned, rubbing his head. “What’s with the cheapshot?” he complained, wincing. When she didn’t answer, he turned his head and studied her. “Meg?”

Her nickname. One day, he’d disappear though those doors and she wouldn’t hear it again. One of these days, he might just not return.

Megaera was not a sentimental fool—that was Thanatos’s job—but she climbed on top of Zagreus, her fingers already shoving his tunic away. Not that there was much to move at this point, his clothing was like scraps barely held together. When he opened his mouth, she glared and barked, “Don’t ask.”

“Don’t ask—” Zagreus flinched as her cold fingers brushed his collarbone, as she slowly lowered her head, her long hair draping over his chest. Her breath warmed his skin and he shuddered. “Wait, what—here?”

“I said don’t.” For once, she wished he was like he used to be, back when he had been an idiotic, callous godling who’d just shut up when she told him to. She wouldn’t have missed that Zagreus. She kissed his neck, her teeth grazing his skin.

Mine, she didn’t say.

Stop, she didn’t beg.

The hickey was dark. If by the time he found his mother, if he was still searching for a reason to come back, she hoped he’d see it and remember just who was left behind.

-x-

Thanatos couldn’t make Zagreus stay.

He wasn’t enough. He had never been enough. Thanatos had known this for centuries now. They had been brothers once, were lovers now, and yet none of these bonds were strong enough to convince Zagreus to stay. None of these bonds were better than that with a mother Zagreus had never met.

Instead, here he was in Elysium once more, making his way to the surface as relentlessly as Zeus or Apollo chased women. For once, Zagreus looked in good shape, with minimal injuries. The monsters weren’t doing their jobs properly. Maybe this time he’d finally make it to the surface.

A dull ache spread at the thought, but Thanatos was used to that feeling. He glanced around the open area. For once, paradise was empty, filled only with shallow pools of healing water and benches to rest on. Nothing that required Thanatos’s special skills, nothing that he had to help with.

He should leave.

“Than!” Zagreus called out, his voice anchoring Thanatos as firmly as a hand. “Fancy bumping into you here.”

It irritated him just how much of a hold Zagreus had on him. Even the godling’s voice was like a chain, keeping Thanatos tethered. Megaera had always been better at keeping a distance. With a sigh, he turned around and faced his partner. “Zag.”

Zagreus wiped the sweat from his brow. He smirked cockily, his arrogance always appearing in the worst ways. It was unfortunately extremely appealing. “Came to help again?”

Part of him wanted to shatter the sheer confidence that lay in that question, in the way that Zagreus smiled at him, in the way his lover’s hands were already brushing his skin. But he was weak, he had always been weak to Zagreus, and the best he could muster was a cold, “Obviously not.”

Not buying it, Zagreus laughed and patted him on the back. “Sure, whatever you say mate. Still, I suppose we got lucky this time. There’s nothing here.”

“With how you’ve handled your weapons lately, I suppose you’ll need the break,” Thanatos scoffed, though he didn’t shrug away Zagreus’s hand. It burned him as deeply as a brand.

“First Meg, now you,” Zagreus grumbled, crossing his arms as he glared at Thanatos. His expression was more playful than frustrated. “Admit it, you both just like talking down to me.”

“Talking down?” Thanatos rolled his eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from continuing their little charade. “We are merely pointing out reality.”

“Right. Sure. I’m the one who has to fight my way up, unlike you two. And I’m barely even injured this time.” Zagreus gestured at his body, as thought that proved anything. Thanatos knew of the healing aid Zagreus received during his journey.

“Then I won’t have to carry your body down?” Thanatos asked lightly, faking nonchalance.

“It’s not like I plan to die.” Zagreus snorted. He bumped his shoulder against Thanatos’s and smirked. “Better you than Charon, though. His grip is always so cold.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or annoyed. “I could do without the extra work.”

“Again, it’s not like I want to die.” Zagreus sighed. Scratching his head, he scanned their surroundings. “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about that happening here. It’s been a while since I found a healing fountain.” He smirked. “Since there’s nothing to fight—”

Thanatos could read between the lines. He pulled his hood over his head. “I’ll leave.”

“What?” Zagreus lunged for his hand, stopping him in his tracks. Panicked, he blurted, “That’s not what I meant. I just thought we could take a breather here. Together.”

An odd, ticklish feeling coiled in his chest. Thanatos looked away. “Some of us have jobs, Zag.”

“You can still take a break. Charon can handle the load, and so can Her—” Zagreus paled and cut himself off.  Scratching his cheek, he weakly chuckled. “I mean, you have Charon. You can take shifts or something.”

Thanatos studied him. That was definitely not what he was about to say. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to push it. They had enough falling apart between them without exposing yet another secret. “We don’t have the exact same job.”

“Close enough.” Tugging his hand lightly, Zagreus guided him to a bench. “Come on. Just a few minutes.”

He should say no. As it was, he was backlogged, the expanding mortal world filled with more and more lost souls he had to ferry to Hades’ domain. Yet Zagreus’s hand was warm in his, his grip firm, his eyes beguiling.

Despite himself, he let his lover pull him onto the seat.

Despite himself, he stayed, their hands clasped, their feet skimming the fountain water. The cuts on Zagreus healed and his bruises faded. Thanatos smiled softly. That was better—he hated finding Zagreus injured.

Forcing a neutral expression, he gestured at Zagreus’s singed tunic. It was easy to tell what he’d gone through just by the burns and cuts in his clothing. “Lava again?”

“Asphodel is hot,” Zagreus defended himself. His shoulders hunched as he sulked. He trailed a toe through the water. “Sometimes it splashes. There should be guardrails down there.”

“Not everyone is as clumsy as you,” Thanatos chided, allowing himself to relax just a little. There was no one to witness this. There was nothing to fight. It had been too long since it had been just the two of them. He smirked, feeling slightly playful. “I’ve never had to pull anyone out of lava before.”

“That was one time and that was an accident.” Zagreus’s shoulder bump was less affectionate this time.

“That’s still one more time than anyone else.” Thanatos shook his head. “How’s the Hydra?”

Zagreus grimaced. “The usual. It’s not that bad, though the heads are a little too much. Still, I’d rather fight a dozen Hydras than have to deal with Theseus again. He’s so smug. And annoying. A smug and annoying bastard.”

Thanatos couldn’t resist the easy jab. “I could say that about someone else.”

Idly, Zagreus played with Thanatos’s hand. His fingers traced nonsensical patterns on his palm. “I’m not that bad. There are levels. He breaks the scale.”

“No…I suppose you are better than him.” They were falling into old patterns, old banter. It felt familiar. It felt safe. It felt like they were back in Nyx’s quarters, curled up together in bed. Thanatos had always felt most comfortable next to Zagreus, and however much their relationship had changed, that hadn’t.

“Oh, a rare compliment.” Zagreus’s touch grew more sensual and he smirked as Thanatos shuddered. He leaned closer, their eyes meeting. “And look, it didn’t kill you to give it.”

Thanatos couldn’t look away. “It could have killed you to get it.”

“Mmm, well, then you would just have to carry me home.” Zagreus merely leaned even closer, his breath ghosting Thanatos’s lips. His other hand cupped Thanatos’ cheek. “I was just thinking I wanted more alone time with you.”

Liar. If he really wanted that, he’d just stay put.

If he really felt that, he wouldn’t try to leave.

But Thanatos didn’t argue, didn’t do anything but close his eyes. Trapped in Zagreus’s embrace, he could only lean into his lover’s hand as they kissed. He couldn’t make Zagreus stay and he couldn’t leave with him. Wanting anything more than this moment was greedy, and that desire would only lead to heartbreak in the future.

In this moment, in this present, there was only this kiss, this touch, and Thanatos didn’t have the strength to leave.

-x-

Zagreus was afraid he would never want to leave.

It was easy to say otherwise. Especially in front of his father, with his deriding taunts and angry threats. Especially in front of Nyx, with her gentle guidance and constant worry. Whether it was hate or love, Zagreus knew how to put on a brave front. There was no reason to turn back.

It was much harder to say that lying in bed, entangled in Megaera and Thanatos. They surrounded him, their warmth enveloping him as they slept. There was an arm on his waist, another around his shoulders, and their legs were tangled like the Gordian knot. Someone’s breath tickled his shoulder. Hair brushed his ear. His hand was on something soft.

Like a butterfly under the glass, his lovers pinned him in place.

For all that he rebelled against his father, Zagreus didn’t mind the Underworld. He even liked it.

Which was a problem. Cocooned between his lovers’ bodies, Zagreus didn’t want to get off the bed. He didn’t want to go to the surface, he didn’t want to find his mother, he didn’t really want to do anything but lie here while Thanatos and Megaera clung to him. And for the two most standoffish people he’d ever met, they’d been clinging to him more and more these days, in the oddest of ways. Their kisses tasted of desperation, their voices trembled with untold regret, and an unknown fear burned bright in their eyes.

No, not unknown. He had the same fear when he looked in the mirror. Perhaps that was the worst part—there was nothing he could do or say to ease their worries. He couldn’t promise he’d return, he couldn’t swear to stop, and those were the only things that would reassure the pair.

Everything had changed the moment he learned the truth. And everything would change again when he found his mother. For better, for worse, only the Fates knew, but change it would. Even their feelings could change, though he didn’t like to think of that.

Zagreus huffed, blowing a stray bang away from his eyes. Megaera stirred slightly—she’d always been a light sleeper—before nestling into his arms once more. Thanatos snored softly, his expression entirely unguarded for once. For a moment, everything was peaceful.

He tightened his grip on them, burrowing deeper into their embrace. For a moment, he would pretend that it was before, that Nyx was still his mother, that he didn’t have a purpose, that he was just the clumsy son who couldn’t handle his father’s affairs.

That he didn’t have a reason to leave, and two more to stay.

Just for tonight, he would pretend that he only belonged here, to them.

[sangreprince]

The two of them hardly had time. Chronos, on the other-hand, had it in droves. And fittingly, he wasted none.

What apprehension was present faded as for her identity vanished as her voice graced his ears. The children of Hades had many differences between them, however none more pure existed than the reckless abandon of her brother. It manifested in an instant, a flash of movement not unlike her own. It saw fit to bring him close enough to throw his arms around her body. He was a head taller than she, his hair and features resembling their father whereas she was their mother's spitting image. His strength held her tightly, with the love of a brother who would not lose again what they had lost once before. That bleeding heart of his never shrank, after all the time in the world.

Zagreus did not hesitate to hold her, nor did falter in his embrace of his kin. Amidst the moment, his head lingering above her shoulder, did words once again find him. Surely as the dawn, the ceaseless tongue that could never be held speak once—

❝ Oh, shut up old man... Little sister... Melinoë... Blood and Darkness, Megara owes me a bottle of ambrosia. Look at you... I hope you gave that ticking bastard a welt. Or several... You don't wager I could kick the body, do you? For enrichment what with being a prisoner in my own home and whatnot. ❞

@sangreprince said: ❛ i don’t think we’ve met, i’m Zagreus. ❜ (melinoë) Just send me memes idk what this is from || Accepting

"I'm … Melinoë," she pauses when she takes him in and something inside her whispers that she's looking into something close to a mirror. Heterochromatic eyes and hellish feet say the most of it. Their features are shared and she recognizes them for more than just their individual presence. The picture she keeps as a promise to herself reflects this stranger's face perfectly. The face of a brother that she's never met … until now, apparently. Meeting family like this felt so strange knowing they were different people, built by different circumstances, sharing the same blood.

"… Your younger sister." She finally says, albeit awkwardly. "I don't suppose you meant for us to meet this way but I guess it can't be helped." Brother. The word is still strange on her tongue, something she's thought about in concept but hasn't quite let solidify within her mind yet. She's convinced herself that this was the family that she was fighting for but in reality she knew they were strangers. Strangers she wanted desperately to feel like anything but. Strangers not by choice but by the circumstances of Chronos. Even so, Headmistress has told her what she needed to know about her family in bits and pieces, but nothing in intricate detail, admittedly. Some secrets, it seemed, she was not permitted to, no matter how precious.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

[secret-engima]

In your LC Birbs verse, what would have happened if Ardyn had found Ozpin before Ramuh had intervened?

hgfgf forgive how long I’ve been perching on this ask but it’s just- has many possible answers and so I was hoarding it a little. Also I shall proceed to meet timeline for the sake of Prompto’s existence, just be aware XD.

-If Ardyn had found Ozpin before Ramuh had, he would have likely been in denial at first. He would have likely just been skulking around during a bout of restlessness, since as the Accursed sleep isn’t really an option very often, and found this isolated clone tank. Because the clone in that tank is dark skinned, at first he wouldn’t even have suspected the child was his. But then Ozpin, dimly sensing magic outside his tank and desperate to be free of this constant sedated haze, reaches out and Ardyn.

-Freezes.

-He knows that magic.

-He presses close to the tank, hands rising up to shakily touch the cold glass as the little one inside (probably only about half a year old in this AU? If that) stirs faintly. Gold eyes fight open to half-lidded cracks, and little fingers struggle through the haze of sedation to reach for Ardyn on an almost subconscious need-help-please-please. Ardyn feels his breath stutter as he looks at those gold, gold eyes and feels magic that burns slightly at his Scourge in a mix of LC-Oracle-Ardyn-Aera and feels the pieces collide.

-He yanks himself away from the tank and stalks away. It can’t be. It can’t be. The Scourge is toying with his mind again, making him see things, feel things.

-He mentally slaps at the magic that desperately reaches for him, and tells himself he feels no regret when it turns from hopeful-pleading to terrified and shrinks away.

-Ardyn tells himself he was imagining things for a month. Maybe two. Maybe far more than that, time is so hard for him to grasp. He tries to forget. But he can’t. He obsesses. The sight of the child in the tank haunts him whenever his eyelids shut, burns at him whenever he visits the lab after and catches a flicker of magic before it vanishes again.

-Finally, the need to know is too great. He returns and breaks into Besithia’s private office. He sorts through the papers about the MT project with growing frustration, yanks open locked drawers with raw strength of the desperate and paws through files of words that make little sense until he finds it.

-Project: Remnant stares back at him, a collection of photos of the tank child, of reports of various infant experiments that he cannot fully understand but sound like they would hurt (for doesn’t even the mildest strike of electricity hurt no matter how ultimately harmless it is?) and ... his origins. A project to clone the Accursed (to clone ARDYN) and while he doesn’t understand all the fancy words and self boasting littered in the reports, he understands the gist. That the initial clones all failed, daemonified within days. That Besithia had to eventually combine two extra strands of DNA in order to stabilize the child now in the tank. One of those strands was just a placeholder, a sample he had on hand that is at fault for the subject’s dark skin. The other strand-

-Tombs of the Oracles. The First Oracle.

-Aera.

-Aera-Aera-her-child-his-child-AERA’SCHILD

-Things get hazy. He remembers standing in Besithia’s quarters while the man writhed and screamed and paid for daring to desecrate Aera’s grave. He remembers setting ... a lot of things on fire, his armiger tearing open the walls as he raged.

-He remembers the crash of glass and black blood pouring from his arms before they healed as he pulled Aera’s drugged child free of the tank. The little one was so small, so alone, and somewhere with that thought in his head he thinks he snatched up another child on the way even though it was of Besithia’s blood, because there’s a screaming in his head that isn’t human but isn’t entirely the insanity of daemons insisting that hatchlings need playmates to grow up properly.

-He comes back to himself far away from the ruins of the laboratory, trekking through the wilderness with not one, but two children in his arms, one of them an infant barely a few months old. The other is his- is Aera’s- is their son. The infant is shivering and he takes a moment to securely wrap it in a spare coat (he didn’t intend to steal one of Besithia’s little MTs but he did and so this child is HIS now) before inspecting his blood child. The little boy is still drugged into sleep, unresponsive to Ardyn’s careful prodding, and Ardyn feels something inside him crack in pain as he inspects and realizes that the boy is no longer an infant, but a toddler. Perhaps two years old, bordering on three even.

-How long had he spent running away in denial while Aera’s child floated in that tank at Besithia’s mercy? Too long. Unforgivably long.

-“Oh my little one,” he breathes hoarsely, “Oh Aera. I abandoned our son. I would strike myself down were he not in need of me.”

-He carts both children through the wilds, slinking into the nearest town only to steal as many supplies as he can before flitting away again. The blond infant he’s stolen is not drugged and so wake up periodically. Ardyn had no real intention of getting attached, but his own son has reawakened things inside him, and the realization that this tiny infant is already well trained to not cry even when hungry or in discomfort makes his stomach churn and his armiger flicker briefly into being. He tries to distract himself from his worries over his sleeping son by fussing over the infant, making silly faces and cooing as he tends the infant who will be his own child’s playmate and little foster sibling. The little one needs a name.

-He will decide later. He must name Aera’s child first.

-He must ensure Aera’s child is alright first.

-The toddler finally wakes up on the second day of their travels, sluggish and confused. Ardyn feels precious, precious magic unfurl sleepily, tentatively little fingers of energy trying to pinpoint his new surroundings. Ardyn reaches back, eagerly, instinctively.

-The flinch from his son as gold eyes snap awake in fear, the way too-young magic all but recoils from him, hurts worse than Somnus’s blade through his heart all those centuries ago. The toddler in his arms gasps faintly, looking around, wide awake and confused-afraid. Ardyn shakes free of his shock and tries to hum a soothing note, but all it gets him is his child clumsily trying to raise his arms over his head like he expects a blow.

-Ardyn remembers that first meeting, that first sighting in the tank, the way magic had reached for him half asleep and needy and so vulnerable.

-He remembers how he had lashed out and slapped it away.

-It’s painfully, achingly, burningly clear that his son remembers it too, even though he shouldn’t, even though he should be too young to recall that horrible mistake, and Ardyn has to fight to breathe past the guilt screaming in his skull even louder than the Scourge. He can’t lose his mind, not yet, not again. He can’t lose his mind or run away or try fruitlessly to execute himself for the crime of hurting Aera’s child, because the little one (little ones, he hasn’t forgotten the burbling infant) need a caretaker and Ardyn is the only one (the only one who knows, who can be trusted, a magic child will suffer if given to non magical parents and he wouldn’t trust Somnus’s bloodline as far as he could throw Ifrit).

-He talks soothingly, mindlessly, trying to get the toddler in his arms to uncurl. He does eventually, looking around in fear-confusion, but his magic stays coiled tight inside him, and Ardyn’s tentative poke at it is met with another flinch and a wild-eyed gasp of terror.

...

-Ozpin wakes up and doesn’t know what’s going on or where he is. At first he reaches out, but the moment he brushes up against another, larger, magic, memories of Salem and half-formed impressions of this same magic striking him in anger that might be a dream or might be truth make him retreat and curl in on himself. He feels small, helpless, there is an eerie silence in his head where only faded memories lie instead of a new voice and a new host and he doesn’t understand.

-Talking draws him out of the haze of half-panic, but when large, dangerous magic pokes at his core again he recoils, expecting it to turn into fangs and the burning agony Salem was so very good at unleashing. It’s been so, so long since he felt any other magic than Salem’s or his own that he cannot stop himself from assuming pain will follow. That all magic not his own is intended for pain.

-The man holding him falters in his speech, like he’s in physical pain, and Ozpin uncurls again to peer at him. Is he injured? Who even is he?

-Ardyn, Ozpin learns as they travel. The man’s name is Ardyn, and Ozpin is in a toddler’s body that seems to belong to no one but him, there is another child, a blond infant who doesn’t look like he’s related to Ardyn or Ozpin but is with them anyway, who gurgles too-quiet in the way abused children do. Ozpin thinks, hazily, that this man might have rescued the pair of them from somewhere horrible. Or he might be at fault for that horrible place.

-Ardyn names the infant Prompto, and calls Ozpin “Zagreus” and Ozpin is too wary to tell him he already has a name. They’re traveling through the wilderness, one that Ozpin doesn’t know, and the moon above their heads is strange and unbroken.

-Ardyn has magic. Ozpin is too wary still to do more than flinch and hold painfully, obediently still whenever the man cautiously brushes it against Ozpin’s senses, even though he knows it hurts Ardyn to be rejected so, even though he knows he should be brave and reach out in return, because he doesn’t think this man has ever hurt him. Not yet at least. Not intentionally. The man is terrible at self care, so Ozpin thinks those repeated stretches of forgetting to feet him and Prompto are unintentional. Ozpin works up the nerve to keep track of time himself and repeatedly (hesitantly) tug on Ardyn’s coat when he thinks it’s time to feed Prompto and himself.

-Ardyn calls Ozpin his son. Ozpin has yet to figure out if that’s true or not. If he mingled magic, he’d be able to tell he thinks, because there is a strange new magic woven into his core, bolstering and healing his long-faded green and mingling into it with strands of blue and gold he can see behind his eyelids, but- he can’t.

-Every time he thinks of trying, all he can think of is Salem. And all the ways she killed him. All the times she forced their magics to mingle so he could feel her rage and hate and possessive, poisonous love as she carved him open and ended yet another lifetime.

-It doesn't help that Ardyn is ill. It’s not Grimm Darkness, he thinks after the first three panic attacks that trigger when he glimpses the man’s sickness. But it is very similar. Too similar. A part of Ozpin, his gold magic, itches to reach out and fix it, but after seen Ardyn look more Grimm than man when tearing apart the strange night monsters that sometimes hunt them, it’s all the self control he has not to grab Prompto and run into the wilderness. To let Ardyn pick them up and continue on their way. They will die without Ardyn, he knows that.

-It doesn’t make him any less afraid.

-It takes a long, long time to be able to fight down that fear even a little, to not stiffen in preparation for a strike when shaking hands pet his hair, to not duck his head and breath slow when Ardyn looks at him and speaks to him, trying to coax out a response that remains frozen silent on Ozpin’s tongue. He knows he’s acting poorly. But despite his infection, despite being so very hauntingly like Salem in some ways, Ardyn never loses his temper at either of them. He never turns violent or raises a hand against them, or withholds food or clothes or stuffed toys when Prompto misbehaves or Ozpin once again recoils from the touch of Ardyn’s magic.

-They’re wandering another continent entirely, and Prompto has already started babbling his first choppy words (Ze and Dyn respectively), by the time Ozpin works up the nerve to let his magic out into the air again. To probe at the air around them while Ardyn goes desperately, fragilely still and watches him without daring to reach out for fear of scaring Ozpin. It takes a lot of nerve, but he manages to brush his magic against Ardyn’s in gratitude-trust before retreating again, exhausted from pushing past so many lifetimes of Salem’s pain to do even that. He’ll try actually speaking aloud another day. Maybe.

-A few days later though, Ozpin hears two birds cawing hoarsely in the air and feels something familiar, and suddenly he’s racing away from Ardyn as fast as his tiny legs can carry him, chasing those birds in the sky and reaching for them with magic and need because that feels like-

-The birds plummet from the sky, and a moment later, two scraggly, wild eyed children with black hair and bright red eyes burst out of the underbrush to tackle him with gleeful cries.

-He’s found Raven and Qrow.

[shoezuki]

oooookayyy scrapped together thoughts of a Hades Modern Au here we go

world shit:

takes place in a massive city with some name or whatever. idfk. it big tho 

‘the underworld’ refers more to like. the criminal activities and things hades has a hand in. which is everything, from all businesses to the politics to the cops and everything. he stinks

most of the olympians don’t live in the city. some are influential people in bigger name areas. others are just like. kicking it somewhere 

most chthonic gods work for hades and live in/near to his own massive office/home, which is one of the biggest skyscrapers in the town

zagreus is always trying to leave town but either is thwarted before he goes too far down the highway or hades forces him to come back

Zagreus: 25, 5″5ft when wearing platformers. he’s somehow the cumulation of jock/rich boy/punk energies and really its a mystery how he pulls that off like. says eat the rich one second but also assumes an apple costs 10 bucks. he’s got the spirit tho 

Son of hades obviously. grew up in Hades’ ‘house’ (massive FUCKING skyscraper) completely raised by nyx. had vague memories of persephone when he was like 5 but didn’t think much of it until more recently. always knew nyx wasnt his birth mother, but only really knew persephone’s name and some information on her when snooping and finding things like marriage certificates that Hades hid away. 

Hades keeps control of him by providing for him, in a way. basically has control of all his money, which hades provides. He’s made it so zagreus can’t get his own job anywhere. either he’s rejected right at the door or fired. stopped once he realized a small business suddenly shut down after he got a job there. also can’t drive, have his own seperate bank account, all horrible shit.

The only thing he does have is that he has an appartment with hypnos thats grungy and small and really gross but its the only thing he feels to really ‘own’. 

Zag blows money constantly since it’s hades’ credit card. arrested a lot for vandalism, arson, public intoxication, trespassing, fighting, etc. he never stays more than a few days in jail, but his record has never been clean so when he attempts to hop on a bus or hitch a ride out of town, cops stop him and take him away. on the bright side one cop stuck to night patrol makes him some really good coffee.

Often gets into bar fights and skirmishes. more because he likes to fight than anything else. he once tried to make money off of underground fighting matches, but hades still caught onto that. he met Skelly through this. 

Hades: old as all fuck. nasty man. like 6″ft or whatever. He owns hotels, apartments, banks, and some factories for production of goods. high public opinion because he’s ‘charitable’ and dumps a lot of money to public infrastructures, police force, and particularly surveillance companies. This is more of a bribe than anything; first to know of the cops’ movements and has surveillance through practically the whole city. 

he sucks. persephone left him but they’re still considered legally married. No divorce has been issued, and hades has kept up the appearances that persephone still lives with him under the guise of a chronic health condition she has (multiple sclerosis) so she isn’t publicly seen. really she left his ass and owns a quiet unnoticed flower shop in a small town over.

Thanatos: 27, 5″11ft. Works within hades’ company, pretty high up too. manages finances, stocks, inventory, etc etc. basically has a handle on all money going in and out. tries to keep out of the less legal side of things but honestly he doesnt really have a choice in the matter. 

Extremely qualified for the position and honestly could probably do much better. went to some big name college far away for a long time. Studied business, accounting, economics for nearly 8 years. wanted to go into psychology, particularly developmental psychology, but forced himself to go into business.

He’s loyal to hades in a strange way. feels ‘indebted’ to him; for his job, providing his mother with a job, basically the reason they’re so well off. seems to think that he is the company’s head accountant less because of his own skill and because it was expected of him. undervalues himself.

He has only been back in town a year or so since leaving for college. part of his job is that he is forbidden from contacting or interacting with zagreus at all, with threats of losing his position from hades. Still, he tends to pull zag out of messes with cops or bar fights. zag doesn’t know how he keeps finding him or randomly appearing. 

unlike most other workers he doesn’t actually live in the ‘house’ and lives in a suite at another hades owned building. this makes it easier for zag to sneak into his suite and visit him at all kinds of weird hours.

him and zag have a more ‘new’ romance goin on. very tentative and unexplored and new. especially considering the circumstances they find themselves in. him and meg are great friends, in fact they are probably each other’s only friends. 

Megeara: 25, 6″3ft without her heels. Is the head of security in hades’ main office and has control over security services in other buildings too, although mainly stays in the house. also has the personally appointed position of keeping zag from leaving the house when he gets dragged back there. You can see how that goes.

Like than, feels indebted/sworn to her job, to a degree though. Will very much stop zagreus, only so that she can let him slide sometimes without suspicion or her job being threatened. Or if she just wants a good fight it depends on her mood.

was always interested in mixed martial arts. when they were teens she threatened zag to a fight. she ended up with a chipped tooth. later in life about when she started heavily piercing her ears she also got gold fang implants since the chipped tooth happened to be Right there. zag is weak to this. 

Never has left town or gone to college. she is the closest of the furies to nyx. both her sisters are in some field of the law enforcement, therefore acting as hades’ more personal ties into the police. She doesn’t get along with them, in fact feeling they’re way too involved in shady shit. but she converses and does what she’s asked of from hades. 

owns a motorcycle! doesn’t actually know how to drive a car, just her bike. takes care of it like it’s her baby. doesn’t let anyone else touch it, fix it up or handle it whatsoever. Hypos tried to hop on once and he ran every time he saw her for at least 3 months after that.

her and zag don’t exactly have a ‘name’ to their relationship. it’s somewhat on and off, between dating and friendship sometimes. Than is someone very close to her; the only person she can be seen outside of a work setting talking to. dusa is working up to that, though, as she’s been getting closer with her. 

[telltalebatman]

some assorted thoughts regarding the writing in hades (spoilers under the cut ig):

the good:

they use the word chthonic to refer to the underworld deities!

eurydice is pissed off at orpheus. my god, i love it. i’ve always kinda hated the character of orpheus for fucking up everything and i’m glad eurydice is allowed to be mad at him.

bouldy.

i actually like this take on the old story of hades and persephone in general. it’s good they maintained the “zeus is a piece of shit” aspect.

also this is more of a design thing, but i would like for nyx to top me, thank you very much.

the bad:

“kore’s father was a mortal” well in that case, neither her nor zagreus are gods.

thanatos. THIS is what you’ve all been yelling about? he looks like an eboy, has no personality, and runs around with a fucking. scythe. which only became a cultural symbol of death around the xvth century, give or take a few years. the point is, scythe was not associated with thanatos by the greeks, so this really makes a grand total of 0 sense.

the usage of daedalus instead of hephaestus is very : / tbh, like gee, i wonder why didn’t they include p much the only disabled god from the entire pantheon in the game.

again more of a design thing, but this iteration of hades is fucking hideous. he’s literally pig-nosed. obviously poseidon got all the sexy genes, but seriously? you are doing my man dirty, supergiant games.

i fucking WISH i could kill theseus once and for all. my god. make him shut up. please. im begging you.

[piprocrastinator]

Letting Go

I had to write a short story for my fiction class and I really liked the results so I’m posting it, though it’s not fanfiction. It’s original characters and stuff so I don’t think many people will care to read it, but I like it so here it is if you DO want to read :D 

Word count: 2,984

Zion slams the tray down on the counter, the glass muffin tray shudders from the impact. “That’s enough, I’m over this.”

“Sure.” Sebastian draws from behind the counter, not even looking up from the cafe latte he was making.

“I’m going to confront him and tell him that stalking is illegal.”

“It sure is.” The words dripping with sarcasm.

“Bas.” Zion huffs, “Your support would be nice.”

“You have my full support.” Sebastian sets the cup down at the end of the counter calling the costumers for their order before turning back to Zion. “But also you own and work at a cafe, a popular one. He’s just a regular customer. Not a stalker.”

Zion picks the tray up, strutting to the back, blowing a raspberry at Sebastian as he leaves.

“You’re a child.” Sebastian calls after him.

“No, You’re a child.” Zion glares at Sebastian through the curtains to the backroom.

“Great comeback.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, moving to get supplies from under the counter.

“No wonder you never find any ghost on your adventures. You scare them away with your sassy attitude.”

Sebastian peeked out from under the counter, expression completely unamused. “Spirits, not ghosts and I never said we don’t see them. I say they’re never worth mentioning.”

“That’s the same thing.”

Sebastian smirks, “Not true.”

“Yeah, well, ghosts don’t like children.”

Sebastian huffs, annoyed, grabbing a nearby newspaper to roll up for extra scare tactic. “Spirits.” He emphasized again, waving the rolled newspaper in front of Zion's face. “Why are we even discussing this?”

“Don’t you have an adventure tonight? You know the full moon and all?”

Sebastian leans against the counter, eyes focused on the costumers milling about in the store. “Yeah, full moon and all.” He says absently.

-----

Zion shakes the door, checking the lock, still mad that he didn’t confront his ‘stalker’ but the cafe had picked up so there hadn’t been time for it.

He growls as the keys drop from his hands before he swipes them off the ground. He stands up straight right as someone bumps into him, hard, and he can’t help but think of how this day can’t get any better. Groaning as he hits the wall, a sharp pain runs through his back.

Zion pushes off the wall, knocking into the guy behind him causing him to stumble. He turns around arm up ready to fight only to see the guy running in the opposite direction. He runs an agitated hand over his face before rubbing his back.

“Can’t get a break can I?” Zion asks rhetorically into the air.

Frown set deep on his lips as he starts his walk home, as he stands at the crosswalk, waiting for the flashing red light to turn green. He looks across the near-empty street, to see a tall man standing at the crosswalk on the opposite side. His stalker.

“Hey.” Zion shouts, the guy turns to stare at him. Zion without thinking rushes across the street, he can hear a few cars blowing their horn at him. The stalker watches, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Listen here-” Zion stared when he gets close enough. The stalker smirks before turning and walking away.

"Hey- Hey. Seriously. I was talking to you." Zion yells, chasing after. He follows him down a nearby alley. Then down another road, an alley, up the conjoined street, through an outdoor market that was closed for the night, around a fountain that seemed to spray mist through the air as they pasted and finally down another alley. This one was dark, quiet and damp, a lone sign flashes arrhythmically from its precariously hung position over a door at the end of the alley.  

Zion looks around, shivering from the change in temperature compared to right outside the alley. The guy stands in front of the door, hands still stuffed casually into his pockets, as if he was ready to wait all night for Zion to follow.

“Hey listen here you. You stalker-“

“Stalker?” He chuckles deep in his chest, amused smirk the only thing visible on his face, thanks to the flashing sign in the dark space.

“Yes, stalker. You keep following me.” Zion tried to muster up the confidence to yell and be assertive but it seemed to be leaving him quicker than he could catch it and his words come out sounding petulant instead. He can almost hear Sebastian’s voice in his head calling him a child and then he realizes that it was said, just out loud and not by Sebastian. The stalker shakes his head after the words, annoyed by Zion before continuing.

“Are you sure? You seem to have followed me.” He gestures to the alley surrounding them with a listless wave of his hand.

Zion looks around, he can hear the critters fretting around the garbage can off to the side. He had followed the stranger into this alley without a second thought. This strange alley that had an odd odor of bitter sulfur. Did that make him a stalker now, Zion thought. A snap draws Zion from his ponderings in time to see the door open, the loud creaking echoing through the alley. Zion watches the guy slip through the entrance and he reacted instinctively following after before the door shut.

The walls were a deep velvet red, the floor was cherry hardwood that created a soft clunk with every step of his boots. The hallway opens up to a room filled with cherry wood tables, covered in red felt, dim yellow lighting, and smoke filled the air. Zion recognized the gambling hall or at least he thought he did as he wandered further inside to the back of the room where a bar took up the back wall. He noted that no one acknowledged his presence as he slipped past, they all seemed engorged in their games

“Excuse me?” Zion taps gently on the counter.

The bartender turns to him, squinting before letting out a chuckle. “How’d you get in here?”

Zion brows furrow, arms crossed over his chest, just about fed up with people thinking he was a child. “I’m old enough to get in.”

“Sure you are,” The bartender reaches over the counter, ruffling his hair. “What’cha need?”

“Uh.” Zion looks around, hoping to see his stalker but his eyes were beginning to fog from all the smoke in the room. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“This stalker- ” Zion turns back to the bartender, bumping into legs. “-Sorry. Uh?”

“This is a counter, not a seat Zagreus.” The bartender glares at the man sitting on his counter, casually leaning back on one hand.

“What’s he doing here?” Zagreus says -ignoring the towel trying to shoo him off the counter- his hand once more listlessly motioning, this time towards Zion. He was beginning to wonder if this stranger guy used his energy for anything but stalking because all of his motions were so lazy.

"You brought him here.”

Zagreus glares at the bartender before swiping a beer from behind the counter. “Not my fault, Hades.” He sneers the name, before taking a chug of his drink.

“Fix it.” Hades says before walking further down the bar. Zion notices a familiar face a few seats down. He’s not sure who it is but it causes the itch of reignition in the back of his brain, he doesn’t have any time to think further on it when he hears Zagreus shifting beside him before pushing off the counter, landing with a soft thud on his feet, the smoke swirls around them from the quick movements

“Hey, wait.” Zion whines. “I’m not done talking to you yet.”

“You’re obviously not ready.” The snap echoes through the room, everything slows before stilling completely, the smoke thickening.

“Not ready for what?” Zion asks slowly, feeling stagnated as everything around him. Sebastian leans against the counter, chin in his palm, looking slightly annoyed. Sebastian, that’s why that face looked so familiar Zion thinks as Zagreus snaps again.

-----  

Zion slams the tray down on the counter. “He’s here, again.”

Sebastian sets the newspaper on the counter, tsking at the headline. “Man found dead in front of his business.”

“That’s sad and all. Sucks. But more importantly, stalker.” Zion motions with his hand towards the guy sitting at the table alone, sipping on a café latte. “Again, he is here and I am over it.”

“He’s just a regular.” Sebastian pushes off the counter and begins to clean it lazily.

“Stalking is illegal.”

“It sure it.” Sebastian drawls back.

“Your support would be nice.” Zion huffs out, tossing a muffin onto his tray with more force than necessary, the muffin tray shudders as he shoves the lid back on.

“You have my full support.” Zion sticks his tongue out and Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Such a child.”

“Hey, you’re going hunting with the gang tonight right? It’s a full moon.” Zion asks, looking over to Sebastian with interest in his eyes.

Sebastian glances over at Zion before looking over to the regular sitting in the corner. “No, not tonight, the spirit won’t let go of his human side to move on.”

“Sounds like your ghost is stuck. Just tell it to let go, why is it still trying to hold on?”

“Not ghost, spirit.” Sebastian reaches over the counter and flicks Zion's forehead, saying the word once more with emphasis. “Spirit. It’s not that simple. Letting go is harder than it sounds. Sometimes you can change the past so they try and hold on.”

“You can’t change the past, you just have to move on.” Zion says seriously. “Isn’t it more tormenting to hold on, you could be missing out on all the good stuff in your future.”

“Wow maybe you should come with us one night, you can sit down and have a heart to heart with the spirits and make them move on.”

“No, I don’t want to talk to spirits, it’s creepy. They could be like demons or grim reapers or something. No. thank. you.”

“It’s not at all creepy to wander around at night, following spirits in order to help them pass. It’s a fun hobby. Much like how you like to make coffee as a hobby, mine it helping sprits”

“You have such a weird hobby, Bas.” Zion snorts, grabbing a cookie and heading back out the tables.

Sebastian leans against the counter, watching Zion smile and  chat with the costumers, “You don’t even know the half of it Z.”

-----  

Zion locks the door, jiggling on the knob to make sure it was locked. He shoves the keys in his pocket when someone bumps into him, knocking him against the door, a sharp pain pierces through his back.

“Watch it.” The guy sneers as he stumbles past.

Zion waves off the offended tone, hand rubbing over his back as he shuffles down the street. He stops at the crosswalk, the light a solid red. He takes a deep breathe, in through his nose out through his mouth before a sharp pain shoots through his back causing him to double over with a groan.

“You ok?” Zion looks up, hand still gripping his side. He can’t make out the face but he recognizes it from somewhere.

“I know you,” Zion says as he slowly straightens up, the strangers' facial features becoming more clear. “You’re my stalker.”

He can hear the beep beep beep of the crosswalk sign as the lights change from green to red, a snap echoes through the air.

Everything becomes disoriented for a moment like his vision gave out only for him to blink it back into correct focus, a low ringing reverberates through his ears.

The dark velvet walls feel warmer than the red light of the sign at the crosswalk.

Zion blinks a few more times before squinting through the smoke in the room. He lets his fingers glide across the familiar velvet walls before he let his feet guide him to the back of the room. No one paid him any mind as he passed. Zion tapped the counter, this moment felt like a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, it was familiar but unplaceable.

“You again?” Hades hisses before whistling loudly as he waved someone over. Zion looks back as the sound of feathers fluttering breezes through the room, a familiar face stares back at him.

“Hey, it’s you.”

“Zag, I told you to fix this.” Hades angrily gesticulates at Zion as if he was an inconvenience. “doesn’t look like it’s fixed, does it?” He turns to ask another familiar face sitting at the bar.

Sebastian shrugs innocently at the question.

“I’ll fix it.” Zagreus rolls his shoulders, waving off Hades tone. A snap rings through Zion's ears. The smoke thickens in the room, swirling around Zagreus’s fingers.

Zion blinks as fingers move in front of his face before snapping once more.

---  

Zion yawns as he opens the door to his café. The sound of shuffling from the backroom causes a weird feeling to rumble up inside him. There shouldn’t be anybody else here yet.

“Hello?” He calls out, gripping his keys between his fingers, ready to attack.

Sebastian pushes through the backroom curtains, a shocked look on his face. “Z?” He breathes out.

“What are you doing here so early?” Zion retorts in a confused voice.

“Cleaning?” Sebastian stares at him, long and hard, searching for something. The stare quickly becomes uncomfortable in the silence.

“You never come in early to clean.” Zion response back slowly, the sound of people mumbling outside has him turning towards the entrance. A few people crowd the front, one of them pointing with a frown. “Why are there so many people out so early?” His voice feels hollow in his throat as he watches the people stare through the door.

“It’s almost noon.”

“What?” Zion whips his head around so quick his vision swims for a moment. He reaches his hand out on the table to stabilize himself but misses, fingers tips only brushing through the surface before stumbling a few steps. He manages a half shuffle to save his momentum enough to collecting himself allowing him to stand up straight again. He lets out a breath as he shakes his head, his thoughts felt murky. “What do you mean it’s noon?”

“What are you doing here Z?” Sebastian exasperates.

“I’m running my shop?” Zion says as he forces how vision to focus on Sebastian as a faint snap echoing in his ears.

Sebastian slings a paper onto the counter, it slips to the edge before stopping. The ends of the paper fluttering as a quiet snap rounds the room.

Zion steps forward, tentatively touching the sheets with shaky fingers. The front page read ‘Business owner stabbed in front of his door, left to die as thieves ransacked his café.’

“What does this mean?” Zion looks up, the café windows boarded now except for the entrance, chair flipped upside down on the few tables that were left. Broken pieces of wood and glass surrounding the wall as if hastily pushed out of the way. A thin layer of dust covering everything.

“It’s been long enough. I think it’s time.” Sebastian flicking his forehead when he sees the pout forming on his lips. “Such a child.” He says with the shake of his head.

The sound of feathers fluttering fills the room as the walls turn a dark velvet color.

“I’m not ready,” Zion whispers, the smoke thickening, swirling around his person.  The darkness of the cafe becomes a soft yellow glow.

“It’s time.” Zagreus appears before his eyes, hand lifted face level, middle finger and thumb pressed together. The defining sound of a snap echoing through the room.

----  

Sebastian leans against the counter, eyeing the young boy in the corner, Zion. Who had his legs pulled to his chest and café latte sitting on the table in front of him, slowly losing heat.

“I thought you wanted the job?” Zagreus questions, sipping on his beer. “It’s been more than enough time for you to move on.”

Zion nudges the café latte with a stiff finger to the handle of the cup, causing the liquid to slosh around before tipping out the cup, spilling onto the table.

Sebastian turns away to stares down at the café latte sitting in front of him, the side of the cup darkens from spilled coffee.

“It’s not your life anymore,” Hades hands glow as he pours the cocktail, a dim fire sets over the top of the drink. “and I’m tired of waiting.”

Zagreus flicks Sebastian's forehead. "Stop being a child and let it go."

Sebastian taps the cup, the liquid sloshing around inside tipping over the edge to leave a few dotes of stain on the newspaper sitting by it.

“That life no longer exists for you.” Zagreus continues with a tap to the coffee cup with the side of his beer bottle. The cup shutters before turning to dust on the table.

Sebastian looks over, Zion taps the cup in front of him with a frown, his cup also shudders before turning to dust on the table. Sebastian takes a deep breath before lifting his hand, middle finger and thumb pressed together.

“It’s time to let go.” Sebastian says as he looks down at the newspaper header, from deep-set on his lips before he drops his fingers.

‘Local business owner, Zion Sebastian, killed in front of café.’

The snap shudders the room. The letters of the heading shake gently before the paper dissolves completely into dust. Sebastian looks over to Zion just as he freezes in his chair. They lock eyes for a moment before Zion turns to dust in his chair

The room continues to shudder as Sebastian looks over to Zagreus who is smiling at him. He reaches over to flick Sebastian's forehead.

[undxsclosxd-desxres]

👶

SEND ‘👶’ FOR A GLIMPSE OF MY MUSES PARENTING.

Blackheart was so much happy, he couldn’t even put any word for it. Together with his queen Brea he got ten beautiful kids - plus the little accident with his son-in-law* Wallow. 

And his children were powerful, any of them - even the first two ones, who are just half-demons in the end. One thing Blackheart loved to do was train his kids, so they could learn their powers. 

[ - *You wonder how this works? It’s some sort of demon thing, involving a ritual and … blood. But enjoy the preparation for one of these training nights below the cut! Just cut for post lenght :3 - ] 

It was one of these nights where he completely focused on this training. The only two who didn’t participate were his oldest daughters Alecto and Lilith.

“Daaad, I don’t wanna train. It’s so boring … you know I’m not that much strong i could wreak havoc like my siblings, so please, can you let me go? My best friend has invited me to her party, and I don’t wanna be late” Selene whined. But Blackheart shook his head. “You know that I don’t make any exceptions” he answered, “And don’t say anything about Alecto and Lilith, you know they’re old enough, and participate when they want” His daughter rolled her eyes. “But I’m 18 years old …” she said, pouty. “And yet you have enough to learn, And being stubborn doesn’t help you at all. Just a short test and you can leave”

Kuanos appeared from nowhere. “Let me guess, papa, Selene is annoyed again?” he just asked. “Shut up, Moonlight” his sibling returned. Blackheart raised a brow. “No quarrels here!”  he hissed. “Pfft” Selene just returned and sat down. “Would you hurry up, please?”

Blackheart looked at his daughter and wanted to say something, when suddenly a strong wind let the doors fly open. “Euros!” the demonic lord just yelled. He clearly hated it when his son did that. With a smile Euros landed and smiled at his father. “Sorry. For the door and for being late … but the girls in the gym loved me too much … and you know I like attention” His father chuckled. “I think with this body is it definitely not strange the human girls wanna kiss your feet”

The door opened another time and a siberian tiger appeared in the frame. “Ugh, Zee is boasting around again …” Selene groaned annoyed. Within a moment the tiger turned into the shape of a tall man, almost as strong looking as Euros. “Hello, father” he said with a smile and sat down. “Hello, Zagreus, how was your day?” Blackheart asked curious. “Nothing special … just chased some poachers in Russia … was pretty much fun to see them running like little sissies, when they see that they can’t kill the tiger … think they learned their lesson” The demonic lord nodded. “Good boy” he replied with a small chuckle. He loved it when his kids scared some humans off. 

After a moment strange shadows started to creep on the floor, stopping right in front of Blackheart. A few seconds later a young man emerged from them. “Nearos” the demon lord said with a smile, “Interested in a traning again?” Nearos nodded. “Mom and dad told me it’s better for me, so I finally learn to control all of my abilities” he answered. “Oh , look like the chaos is here again …” Selene chuckled, “What did you fuck up this time?” Nearos growled. “Nothing. They just decided it’s better for me, because father knows what’s best” he replied and huffed a bit.

“Hi dad!” a sweet voice came from behind. Blackheart chuckled again. “Megaira, lovely to see you here, my girl” he said and turned around, only to stroke her cheek and press a kiss on her forehead. 

The demonic lord looked around. “Are we complete?” Kuanos looked around. “No, Nyktelios and Charon are missing …” But Blackheart shook his head. “It’s okay. They’re on dates … and excused” he replied with a sweet smile on his lips. 

No matter what, Blackheart was proud of all his kids. “Okay, we should start”

[baejax-the-great]

get to know people better meme

I was tagged by @johaeryslavellan and I think @hanarinhightown (like a million years ago).

Favorite colour: It shifts around but jewel tones generally. Green or purple more often than not.

Favorite food: Korean dumpling soup. Forgive my attempted spelling here--dukk mandu guk. Honestly dumplings of all kind make me happy, but that soup has become my comfort food.

Song stuck in your head: Saint Simon by the Shins. This song used to be stuck in my head all. the. time. Haven’t thought about it years. La da dum dum.

Last thing you googled: “what do they call high school in England.” I learned that the term “high school” came from Scotland originally, which is just... very random. Like no, high school did not make its way south to England, where they call it ‘secondary school,’ something that confused my American brain because we split school into three sections, instead it crossed the ocean and became the dominant term in the US. As an American Scot (aka not really a Scot at all), uhh, yay? I guess?

Time: 8:55am

Dream Trip: Morocco. Turkey. Mongolia. I have a lot of dreams. Honestly I’d find something to be excited about for pretty much anywhere in the world.

Last book you read: I just finished “Where the Crawdads Sing,” which was terrible. Hilarious once you learn the author is an ecofascist accessory to murder, though.

Last book you enjoyed reading: I’m currently reading Lavinia by Ursula Le Guin and I’m loving it. (Note: now my most recently googled thing is how to spell her name.)

Last book you hated reading: I feel like I’ve become a hater in my old age. I tried to read “The Silence of the Girls” but it was really bad. I also didn’t enjoy “The Buried Giant” and I thought I was going to =/ 

Favourite thing to cook/bake: Onion flatbread. It’s delicious. It’s a little fancy. It makes me happy.

Favourite craft to do in your spare time: Is writing a craft? is pruning plants a craft?

Most niche dislike: Man, I so easily fall into being a hater. Here, recently I’ve gotten really into the houseplant reddit, and I can say I just don’t get the obsession with variegated monstera plants. Monstera are fun because they grow huge and provide greenery. The thai constellations and albo grow slowly, don’t get as big, and are just kinda ugly. I don’t get it. 

Opinion on circuses now and in history: I was in a circus back in college (thus the username, lol). As long as there aren’t animals involved, circuses are fun, creative, impressive, entertaining... Who doesn’t want to see the limits of human flexibility? A lot of circus arts also don’t necessarily have competitions attached to them like other sports do, which I think is great for creativity, cooperation, and community.

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what is the worst way you ever got lost: I do have a pretty good sense of direction. I’ve traveled solo a lot. The most lost I ever was probably was in Italy, where people were super unfriendly and signage was nil. But the most upset I got while traveling wasn’t because I was lost, but rather because my train was late. I was in a small city in China, and my train didn’t get in until around midnight. Everything shuts down in small cities around 10pm, and when I got to my hostel, they had locked the door. They had a sign out to call them, but nobody answered. I called repeatedly and then just broke down crying, like, ugly sobbing, certain I wasn’t going to have anywhere to sleep that night. I ended up sitting on the steps of a church because there was a streetlight overhead (and churches were like... not a common thing there, it was so weird) and pulling out my book, hoping to just chill until dawn. LUCKILY a local took pity on me and did some sort of magic to make the hostel people open up the door. They weren’t even asleep? They just weren’t answering their phone. So around 1am I got a bed.

tagging: @little-piece-of-tamlin @thiefylilelf @annalyia @userachilles @disaster-zagreus @juliafied @vimlos @togepies

Do it if it’s fun, ignore it if it’s not

[angstandhappiness]

BAH HAH, ACCURATE

OP's tags : #zagreus: shut up old man#I have been thinking of that loki taco bell post for DAYS since starting Hades 2 #also I can't stop thinking about how close Mel and Homer are#she realised her life had a narrator and decided to befriend them#meanwhile the same thing happened to Zag and he just decided it was On Sight

Homer, Hades 2: Sing, O Muse, of the saffron robed goddess, whose fair countenance was bathed in Selene’s light at the moment of her birth. Homer, Hades: The fire-stepping prince was lifted by Night from the cold ground, where his lord father had discarded him, outside Taco Bell.

[zeronamesleft]

Both Melinoë and Zagreus: When will you shut up old man

Homer, Hades 2: Sing, O Muse, of the saffron robed goddess, whose fair countenance was bathed in Selene’s light at the moment of her birth. Homer, Hades: The fire-stepping prince was lifted by Night from the cold ground, where his lord father had discarded him, outside Taco Bell.