#zagreus; coo

[happyk44]

Hermes yammering on and on about his chthonic work while taking care of baby Dionysus, and fun "uncle" Thanatos tagging in when his coworker ("hey bestie!" "we are not besties") got a lot of crap going on, showing Dionysus bones and ghosts and how to drag Hypnos to a softer sleeping area when he passes out in a bush full of thorns again, and then a billion years later Zagreus pops out of the ground and Dionysus latches onto that underworld energy he doesn't really remember because he was a mortal baby at the time but totally vibes with nonetheless and boom. Besties

(and then a couple years later, Dionysus accidentally cuts Zagreus' dick off in a chaotic stupor, but it's chill because who really needs one)

[solace-seekers]

kitten update!!!

vet said it had a bite on its arm that’s infected and it’s very very swollen so they can’t tell if anything’s broken in the lower part of its leg, but the upper parts are confirmed fine

he’s a boy!! (the vet said he had “tiny little testicles”)

hes very tiny, under two pounds

and perhaps most of all, he is a determined little baby that does Not like to be contained (when he’s not asleep ofc)

here’s the name in progress rascal <3

[trippygalaxy]

Zagreus' Nicknames For You!

First x reader thing I'm making for Hades, and I wanted to do something small to get comfortable with this new fandom sooo nicknames headcanon it is! I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Zagreus x GN! Reader Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! (sorry for spelling errors!), suggestive language? its not meant to be--, Word count: 500+

Little Minx

A nickname said with mirth in his voice and a playful glare that holds nothing but love.

You, among with many others in the House, like to teasingly poke at the Prince's buttons with playful jabs and taunting comments. But you are one of the few that holds no true malice behind your words and makes a point to check in on him to see if these comments bother him.

He greatly appreciates your concerns and semi constant check ins, it makes him feel seen in a way he hasn't yet really experienced--

But he wouldn't call you his little minx if you weren't a little gremlin! Oh no no, you are by far the most mischievous soul he'll ever meet!! Your quick witted quips, your sly smirks and knowing looks as you press each of his buttons (with love, of course!), all of these factors are what got him to coin your title!

Zagreus may roll his eyes and send some playful jabs back, but he loves having a partner that can match his energy!! And he can't help but find it so cute when you snark him in that mirthful tone of yours!

Jewel

A nickname cooed into your hair, a wide smile clear in his loving tone. A nickname that comes bursting from his chest as he sees your darling form.

You shine brighter than any gem embedded in his fathers rings, the light that bounces off of you only adds to the breathtaking form of yours. You, to Zagreus, are one of the most beautiful jewels he had the honor to lay his eyes upon.

To the Prince, you are the most precious thing he has ever found!

Maybe thats the romantic in him, but he truly believes that you are worth every coin under the sun and ever uncut gem beneath the surface. He may doubt how someone as brilliant as you could ever stand next to someone as dull as him, but he is quick to push those worries aside when he sees the way you smile at him.

The man, as soon as he rises from the Styx, will look for you in the halls of the house, and you can bet that if he catches a glimpse of you he will be hurrying to your side and calling for you without a hint of shame in his tone.

He loves his Jewel, and he'll try to voice it ever chance he gets!

Nectar

A nickname whispered into the nape of your neck, batted breaths fanning across your collarbone as he clings to you.

Oh this boy...When he isn't trying to 'escape' the labyrinth that is the Underworld (or..dying), he is in your arms and is making himself right at home in your warm embrace!!

You've gained the nickname from...well...You hold a sweetness to you unlike anything he's ever experienced in the Underworld! He would gladly drown in you if it meant he could experience you again and again.

This nickname isnt as widely known, like Jewel, and nor is it used so sparingly like Minx! The nickname is used for the few quiet moments you two share together, its said with so much tenderness -as if you'd shatter like a glass bottle if Zagreus spoke it in any other way- you melt every time he says it.

These quiet moments tend to be with you two laying down, legs tangled with the others and embracing eachothers warmth and love.

Taglist: @birb-boyo @tomsishere @faroreskiss (Uhh...thats it i think?)

[yandere--stuck]

i know you didn't respond to my previous ask with ideas yet (and i wanna say pls no pressure!! i'm sure you must get a lot of asks!!) but man. especially after ur last post i was wondering if i could share some gore writing i wrote for bill? totally fine if not, have a nice day! (also, sorry he keeps possessing you </3 get well soon! :P) - that one anon who wrote zagreus gore a while ago

Just wanna say, first of all, so glad you're still around, anon!!! You're such a great writer and I'm still a huge fan of what you sent in to me! Hope you're doing well c:

And secondly 👀 Hopefully this will be a preview to a longer thing I plan to write

Warning for gore/suggestive stuff under the cut teehee :3

I can totally imagine Bill chaining the object of his affection down. On your knees, each wrist strapped in glowing blue metal cuffs above your head. All vulnerable and all for him.

Your flesh is so pretty and soft. He wants to drink you in completely. The only thing to ever dare grace his vision. But, what he's really interested in is what lies underneath.

The human body is hilarious! You know, if you really wanted to protect yourself from danger, your kind should have evolved some sort of exoskeleton to protect such a vulnerable spot from attacks. Oh, well! All the easier for him to slash into.

His eye crinkles with delight as you writhe against your restraints in agony. Tears pool from your eyes and screams rip from your throat. You make such beautiful noises for him, this has to be in his top five favorites!

He just watches for a while. Watches the blood pool out of your stomach, stares into the inside of your stomach. His hands itch. All those squishy little organs to play with…

You hang your head, breath coming out in stutters. Drool drips from your mouth, mind too fogged with pain to care.

Bill laughs when you flinch away from him, your eyes suddenly wide as the demon move closer. You thrash in a feeble attempt to get away, body taught and mind in a frenzied panic as he reaches in-

Bill coos at you when your entire body locks up. Your mouth wide open in a frozen scream as he plunges his hands inside your guts. He digs around, grasping and rubbing your inside for what he's looking for…

Aha!

He grips your intestines and pulls, your insides quickly becoming your outsides. You should be dead. You'd rather be dead than in such agony, but you know he'd never ever let you.

With reverence, Bill strokes and rubs and caresses your intestines, taking in the sounds of your suffering with glee. One day, you'll get used to the pain. And then, after that, he knows you'll start to like it. He can't wait for the day that you ask him to do this to you, for you to beg him for it. He can't wait for you to understand that this is how he shows his love.

Slowly, he lifts an intestinal rope to his eye. He forms his eyelids into lips to press a gentle kiss to it. From within his eye, a monstrous tongue comes put to lap at the blood that had been smeared onto his lids.

“Told you I loved you from the inside-out," he quipped. 

[kore-pythia-hayashi]

Will Daphnis meet Aelia? How would the encounter go?

From the creator of the character, - yes.

They met by chance, in the park where Daphnis walked with Kore as a child. He understood everything as you saw the eyes of a baby sitting in a stroller, similar to his and charmingly twinkling - her hair was still light and soft, waving in cute curls, the features of her tiny face had only changed a little and looked like those of her new father. Daphnis didn't want to think about the fact that she belonged to Apollo again.

The girl saw him and smiled and cooed enthusiastically. She looked exactly the same as when she was a child. Daphnis's heart ached. Young man leading her stroller, beautiful with kind sea-green eyes and more mature than Daphnis was, drew attention to Daphnis and smiled. His smile was similar to hers.

He adjusted the thin, sun-proof hat on her small head and smiled amiably at Daphnis: are you all right?

Daphnis was able to take his eyes off his daughter and tried to smile at him: No, it's okay, it's just that your little girl is very nice and nice... love and take care of her, she will grow up to be a great person.

The young man relaxed a little and smiled at him more openly and sincerely, most likely, he was afraid that Daphnis would turn out to be a monster: we know, love and care about her, she is our little miracle.

They talked for another 5 minutes about trivial things and went their separate ways. Now her name was Aelia, an ironic and cruel joke of fate. That day he bought a bottle of good wine and made a libation in honor of Zagreus, the god of rebirth. He was just glad to know that his daughter was happy now. Even if he lost her forever.

[persephoneflowerpetals]

It would be cute if Zeus and/or Poseidon walked in on Hades having a heartwarming moment with one of his kids and they are happy that their little brother actually has a heart and he feels embarrassed when they catch him being on all fatherly.

OMG I THINK OF THIS ALL THE TIME SKSHKDHDJD

I headcanon that Hades usually talks to his kids normally when they’re babies kinda like he’s having a conversation with them, but when nobody’s around he’s constantly cooing at them and doing silly baby talk to them because, dang it, he just loves his kids so much and they’re so adorable! Lol!

But seriously, Zeus or Poseidon walking in on him being all fatherly and cute with his kids would be so funny and adorable! Like, it’s very evident that Hades is crazy about his wife and loves his children with his entire being, but actually seeing him go all soft for his little ones is just so cute, but also jarring since he’s like, this big intimidating god of the underworld lol. Also, if Pain and Panic ever catch him doing that by accident he either threatens them or uses his powers on them and basically makes them swear to never talk about it lol

Hades: Who’s my little Prince of the Underworld, huh? Is that you? Yes it is! You’re my little princey-wincey! Yes you are! You’re my little guy! *starts cooing and baby talking while tickling Zagreus who is laughing and giggling*

Zeus: *walks into Zagreus’ nursery* Oh and by the way, Hades. I-

Hades: *freezes and acts like nothing happened*

Zeus: Awww! How cute!? Bonding with your son!

Hades: *frowns* I was just changing his diaper, but if you wanna call that “bonding” then sure, yeah, we were bonding. *picks up Zagreus and holds him*

Zeus: Any time you spend with your kids at that age is bonding, brother! *pats Hades on the back* It was pretty cute though! Who knew you were such a softie! Ha ha!

Hades: *points at Zeus* Hey! I am not soft or cute! Okay? Dark and menacing? Sure. Devilishly handsome? Absolutely, but soft and cute? No way.

Zeus: *chuckles and shakes his head* If you say so, Hades.

[baejax-the-great]

WIP Wednesday

Here's a bit of the Agua Caliente I wrote yesterday:

After reading and rereading the rules regarding businesses and pets, Achilles sets up Socks and family in his office where he can keep an eye on them. When the kittens are a bit older, they can probably be in the front and get socialized, but for now, his office is as good a spot as any. This has resulted in a parade of employees and close friends of employees poking their heads in to coo at the kittens. One friend in particular has given Achilles pause and not a small amount of misplaced guilt.

Thanatos apparently loves cats. He also apparently loves Zagreus, because Achilles caught them exchanging a quick kiss outside. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions immediately, and he considered quietly changing all their shifts so that Zagreus and Megaera no longer work together on the assumption that they broke up, but Megaera would tell him if she had an issue with working with her ex. Except on her next shift with Zagreus, it seemed clear they are not exes at all.

Achilles feels sick.

Zagreus isn’t married, he doesn’t have kids, his father seems to already be an asshole prior to this situation, but Achilles can’t help but see his own mistakes being repeated in front of him. He likes Megaera, and he has no interest in being the person who tells her that she is being cheated on. He should encourage Zagreus to come clean before he makes a bigger mess of both their lives.

Achilles shuts the door to his office and locks it. This is why he didn’t want to know anything about his employees’ love lives. The less he knows about them the better. He puts on headphones and turns on his music loud enough to drown out that tireless little voice in his head telling him there would be a simple way for him to stop caring about all of this and he can find that solution at the nearest convenience store.

Yes, he thinks bitterly, I can give myself entirely new problems.

[cosmicallybound]

@empyreous said, “You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.” (from zag~) fantasy starters || accepting

surprise colored the goddess's face as delicate fingers cupped the younger's face, smushing his cheeks together as she cooed. lush lips curled into a soft smirk as she swiped a thumb over the godling's cheek before pulling away. it wasn't often she could visit the underworld, but she cherished it nonetheless. " oh, my little godling, what a flirt you are. but you are correct. there is a reason why my name is so feared among mortals. even your uncle zeus avoids me whenever he can. 'twould seem i am able to bring even gods to their knees. " a teasing wink was tossed zagreus's way as she indulged in the ambrosia offered.

[friendball-irl]

(please pretend it has not been 1.5 hours since the last ask.)

[The anon nods and approaches Zag slowly, reaching out to pat Zag.]

...Hello, Zag. It's been a long time since you've last felt the kindness and love of others, hasn't it? I understand. I'm sorry. I hope you can feel it again soon. I hope you can sense a little bit of mine? I hope you can be happy.

[Once they're done, the anon gives a small polite bow to Gray and his Pokémon.] I'll come back if I can think of more stuff to bring. Or to say. If you need anything, just say the word. I'd come help, though someone with a name would probably get here first. I care about you, Gray. We all do.

[Zagreus leans into the touch, cooing softly, one of the first sounds he's made since meeting Gray. Gray himself smiles softly at it.]

...thank you. We both needed that.

...and thank you for caring.

[brokenmagxc]

what familial familiarity draws upon the other's words ?? curled betwixt softened expression and yearning eyes. phanes finds his lips twitching ; he knows the midnight mother speaks of him from time to time, for he hears her soft voice in the darkness when she does. the same way orpheus blesses him with song when he whispers telling legends to the bard and watches, intently, as the mortal persuades action under his hand. the soul of nyx was as earthy and grounding as it was ethereal. the night reached far and wide and caressed every corner of the universe, reassuring every shadow that darkness will come in the absent of light. and the light was always absent here where he was stuffed into a box and shoved so far behind the reaches of existence that no one talked of him now. just the inspiring singer, the loving mother, and the intrigued lord of the unpredictable.

death talked of him once before, and he heard that too. the eager coo of a tiny child. he missed the feeling of creation laid from freshly born idea, blooming from the carcass of thought and arising as action. he had been a mother once. a father. an inventor. a maker. he missed that dearly, and perhaps that showed in the way golden eyes twinkled like the stars of nyx, from the abyss, gleaming in content as the other bowed. a child—he wished he was still able to hold his own ( hold the universes in his grasp, caress existence as it was, in all its chaos and darkness, in life and death and love and war, in pride and bashfulness — he wished he could hold the light in his hands again and hug it as if it was the only thing keeping him alive, for it was ).

but thus, in this darkness. he was nobody, and he was nothing.

inevitable. fates gaze upon him in pity. chaos sighs, for he is being dramatic, and he brushes off the gust that blows against deep brunette strands of hair ( wood and dirt, clay and moss and soil ). chaos can hold themselves with restraint — he can be afforded this much. and it was unfair for the gape to hold family by the hand when while he could only watch in silence. he would never tear them from their child, the loving night sky. the abyss can wait for him to be satiated before he returns to his preordained prison.

phanes nods. he holds his gilded eyes upon the paleness of the other's face, steps closer still, where mundane shoes tap against the translucent floor and echo in their silence. he is observing their countenance ; he was not allowed the sight that chaos held, and so he had never laid eyes on the young incarnation. not since they had whispered his name in reverent awe as but a tiny thought in mother night's hands.

“ i am not allowed to speak to your fated one, for he does not know me. and i cannot expose myself to those who do not already know. ” head tilts. pale skin glistens under the golden glow of his own eyes, tongue swiping at a crimson lip, where the unmistakable shine of a universe touches at the black void hidden at the throat. “ your loving mother told you about me a few times. she is a gentle thing. i owe her much for keeping my name company when all else had forgotten. ”

hands clasp in front of him. “ i tell the silly musician to speak of me sometimes, between the gifted songs of change, the catalyst's lyre between skilled hands. he has since been — distracted, as you could — probably hear. ” the words awkwardly escape him. is he trying to make a joke ?? it is unclear.

the primordial dawdles in the abyss. his steps circle the younger being, if only because he wishes to move. the space around him follows in all its obedience. “ zagreus is a bright young one. i hope to meet him one day— ” the remainder disappears from him, unspoken but lingering between them: ‘ but i fear the fates will never let me. ’ there is a quiet yearning of his own, silent and lost ( but nothing is lost in this realm, just misplaced, removed from utterance so it could not be harnessed to full potential ). perhaps, beyond enigmatic intrigue, the deity seems — lonely.

a hum. phanes nods and stills in front of death, regarding them in a gentle stare. there, in the glimmer, appeared something melancholic beyond such divine opulence and unexpected selfless care. “ did you, perhaps, wish to speak to your family instead ?? ”

“I KNOW TO WHERE I HAVE ARRIVED.” they have been seeking this place for many millennia. mother night told many a' story of her unusual parent, curled up beside the twins and running her gentle fingers through their snowy hair. the elusive chaos felt more like a fairytale creature than an existing being. and phanes - well, nyx spoke rarely more of him; the force that hatched from the cosmic egg, the bringer of light and inevitabilities, an entity impossibly intertwined with chaos. a parent, no, but a creator? undoubtedly. as much as young thanatos pressed, eager to learn everything his mother could tell him about the primordial entities, his hunger for knowledge could never be satisfied. what should the fates have planned for them now that thanatos’ lover carries the shell phanes once emerges from? and though death stands tall and proud, there is a childlike eagerness that dances in his honeyed gaze. “it is the realm of my grandparent.”

they are not entirely without manners. mother nyx raised her favored children well. thanatos offers a slight bow to the elder deity. “i thank you for gracing me with your presence, master phanes.” he stands upright again. the realm chaos and phanes inhabit is far more fantastical than thanatos’ young mind could imagine. phanes alone is incredible. “it is an honor to carry out your wills.” his expression turns inquisitive, a slight shift in his stony countenance. “if i may ask. why do you appear before me? my … paramour has frequented your realm, yet he speaks only of chaos.”

[elysium-collective]

there is a squirrel exploring the vents well more accurately a human appearing about 12 with a fluffy tail, fluffy ears and buck teeth Gus isn't really sure why they choose this form as moving through the vents would be easier in squirrel form this thought however is interrupted by her falling out of the vents (from squirrel-osha)

Zagreus jumps back, their opossum friend scurrying behind a box and making defense noises at Gus. Neither he nor his friend know how the squirrel-person ended up in the vents but he doesn’t feel particularly inclined to question it yet. He quickly hides the snacks he’s holding behind his back, then his eyebrows shoot up and he asks “How did you get in there?”

[yandere--stuck]

AaaaaAAA I was so happy to see you already had a gore fic for Bill in the works! I have reread it like. 5 times. Your writing scratches my gore itch perfectly, and I just adore fics the intestinal stuff especially <33 and his mentions of your heart also… the romance!! I was inspired by what you wrote, I hope you enjoy it once again :D! (also im doing great, hope ur doing well too :D!!) - zagreus gore anon

Notes for anyone else: This contains gore!! So much gore!! Body horror— It’s Bill’s love language!! (intestinal trauma, mouth trauma, eye trauma…. Honestly ‘you’ here are violated in like every way possible.) No sexual content, but it’s suggestive to me. Bill Cipher is a Weirdo.

---------

You never quite get used to the pain. You wish you did.

In your memories, the sensation is dulled. You know it was painful, you know it was one of the most horrible sensations of your life, but the full extent of it… You can’t remember. Your brain must be protecting you from it. Every act of Bill’s love would constitute life-long trauma for anyone else, yet you live through another session of it day by day. No. Scratch that. They wouldn’t be alive to recall it. They wouldn’t make it half as far as you. For you, no such easy, simple fate can ever be attainable. The weirdness of his new world has conquered Death itself.

Bill had cradled his intestines in your arms, laughing as they helplessly twitched and writhed against his body, cooing at them as you howled in pain. “Aww, are you excited to see papa?” He’d said, and only the strangeness of it had kept you from repressing it. He talked to your guts as if they were puppies, as if blood smeared across his bricks were innocent licks against his skin instead. Another time, he’d wrapped your guts around his triangular body, and called it the ‘world’s most intimate hug’ as he whispered sweet nothings about how much he looooves you, and also the health of your gut bacteria. Somehow, he always outdoes himself.

Bill had dug even deeper, crumbling your ribs to smithereens in his hands, and held your still-beating heart in his palms as an object of reverence. “All mine, all mine…” He’d muttered to himself, his pupil momentarily expanding to a large, inky abyss. The pain had been so intense that you’d slipped into shock. A bad habit of yours, as Bill called it, would be your tendency to slip into memories of the past to escape the present. When you should be focusing on him.

That time, he’d jolted you back to reality by fire-hot pain slashing through your heart. All the time, it continued pumping, spurting blood in Bill’s direction with every pump. His powers were the only thing keeping you alive. When, once, blood sprayed right into his eye and he was forced to take a break, you smiled for just a moment. A lopsided, crooked grin. He’d used a mirror to show you his handiwork. In the outer flesh of your heart, he’d burned a little triangle. He’d already healed the skin. The lighter pink scarring stood out against the rest of your heart. Marked forever. Though he’s usually so talkative, at that moment, he’d been quiet for just a few seconds.

Then, he’d laughed, breaking all tension. “Wow, it sure smells like barbecue in here!”

On another occasion, he had hummed a little tune to himself, comically large saw in hand, as he cut off your limbs one by one. You could never forget the sound as the teeth sawed through your bones, bit by bit. Tearing through muscle. The clunk of your arm hitting the floor. Your leg. Rinse and repeat. You swore you could still feel your arms and legs, once you lost enough blood and your vision went hazy. Bill had hugged you against his smaller form. (He could change his body’s size, technically. But he always preferred appearing just as he was to you.)

“Without all those gangly, long limbs of yours, we can really cuddle now!” The next day, all of your limbs had regrown.

He’d cradled your face with one hand, and kept your mouth open with his other wrist. You could see nothing except for that giant eye of his as he pried your teeth out of your mouth, one by one. The taste of blood filled your mouth. He’d tug and tug and tug, not nearly using enough strength, and being entirely aware of it, until finally yanking it out once and for all. (Until it regrew, that is.) Under your gaze, he took your teeth one by one, drilled a little hole in them and strung them together on a necklace.

“Hmmmm,” he’d hummed to himself, a long, drawn-out noise. “I feel like it’s missing something. What do you think?” Before you could answer, not that you had any desire to, he snapped his fingers. “Oh! I know! For a sign of our undying love for each other, it’s a little plain with just teeth!”

In the next moment, Bill had taken out one of your eyes. You cannot comprehend how such a, relatively, small part of your face could hurt so unimaginably much. You wanted him to drape his guts all over himself again. You’re sure a point-blank gunshot to the head would’ve hurt less. Been less discomforting. His fingers had shrunk into paper-thin appendages and slipped past your eyeball, digging and cutting away at the nerves behind it. You cried tears of blood. If there was anything in your stomach, you might have thrown up.

Then, all at once, pain had blossomed into pure, mind-numbing pleasure. Compared to the pain, this is what you would like to forget the most. You’d gurgled out a moan through the spit gathered at the back of your throat. Your limbs had twitched helplessly against your restraints. When your optic nerve finally snapped, you’d whined as Bill took your eye out, exclaiming “Pop!” as he did so. For just a moment, he’d juggled your detached eyeballs in his hands, having left you panting.

“Yes, now this’ll make a good centerpiece!”

Pain had become just pain once again as soon as his touch left you. There is nothing good about a gaping, throbbing hole left in your face. You whine, sniffle softly, to get his attention. You hardly ever speak out loud anymore. Bill can read your every thought and is aware of your every idea. When speaking takes up more energy than it saves, why should you? In that moment, you had lacked the energy to think about it, your body desperately trying to recover itself.

Right now, you wonder why he’d make it feel good. Why, this one time. You don’t immediately get a response. Bill just laughs and laughs and laughs, running his fingers across the teeth of his necklace, poking the eyeball in the very middle. In your eye-socket, an exact replica of it has re-formed itself.

“You’re so funny! Why do you think I did anything at all? That was all you, baby!” His pupil transforms into a heart. It’s a blink-or-you-miss it transformation, and as soon as it happened, you think you’ve made it up. “I told you that you’d come around to it! Maybe we can even share in a little bit of pain next time, huh?”

You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since, both his words and how mind-numbingly good it had felt. Maybe he’d simply lied to you, maybe it’d all been his doing. That would be the best outcome, right?… With time, you know Bill will ‘show you his love’ again— He always does. But this time, you await it with fear, largely fear, but with a little anticipation, too. There’s no need to tell him. He already knows.

ANON I AM BARKING LIKE A DOG!!!!!!!! BARKBARKBARKBARK THIS IS AMAZING!!!!! God, your descriptive voice is so good, it's so vivid!!!! Bill tricking reader into thinking they like it and them believing it...... Yummy yummy corruption in my tummy <3

Thank you so much for this, I can only hope what I write holds a candle to this!!! You never disappoint raaghh.

Bill draping your guts around as the world's most intimate hug. GOD. Also it's so fashionable! Gut scarf, teeth and eyeball necklace, literally wearing pants of your body to shoe his love and claim of you. Aaaa I'm kicking my feet!!

Thank you so much again holy smokes

[beepen]

It popped in my head for just a second: Thanatos with a baby. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.

———————————————

“Maybe—maybe Nyx? Can fix this? She can fix anything.” Zagreus wracks his brain for all the times he had gone to Nyx for something. His escape, Orpheus’ and Achilles’ contracts, and so much more when he was just a child. “Yes,” he nods, mostly to himself despite having another body—er, two, in the room with him. “Nyx will know what to do. She’ll help us find who the child belongs to, and—“

Thanatos is too quiet, and Zagreus whips around to talk directly to him, but blanks the moment he lays eyes on the mournful god.

And we can return him, is on the tip of his tongue, ready to slip, but. He can’t. He can’t, because Than isn’t paying attention to him, anyway. He can’t, because how can Zagreus say such a thing about a child now cradled safely in Death’s arms, also ignoring Zagreus, eyes wide and curious and so similar to Than’s except for the brightness lingering behind the golden color, where Than’s has long since dulled. The child—the baby; he coos and struggles to coordinate his arms in the way he wants to, waving them in jerky movements and spreading and closing his fingers.

He’s reaching, Zagreus realizes. He reaches for Thanatos despite already curled so close to the god’s chest. That doesn’t stop Than from straining his neck forward, lifting the child just so, and pulling him impossibly closer, until the child is pawing at Than’s face. Zagreus watches with a fluttering heart as Thanatos, Death Incarnate, mournful and relentless in his work, melts into a pair of tiny mortal hands.

[the-eighth-article]

Zagreus stared, and let out soft purr like noise, sinking to his knees and cupping Harrison’s face, forcing eye contact.

He cooed. Placing a kiss against his nose.

“I never said she was only my daughter. I was simply saying well..the doctor raised her. Not you. Much like you raised Vera and well..it’s complicated.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue, he then ran his thumb across Harrison’s now bloodied cheek. And promptly stuck his thumb into his mouth.

He chuckled dryly, swallowing.

“It’s quite easy to get you angry isn’t it? Quite easy to make you think I’m poor little Thee too..how long have you been married again? I mean…come on. What kind of husband doesn’t recognize his lovers personality..? Then again maybe I’m just a great actor..ah pity. Helena’s gone isn’t she? You’re alone. With me. A terrible husband. And a terrible god. Don’t we make the duo?”

He scowls as he drags the Doctor by the hand to their bedroom, slamming the door shut once they'd reached it, and pushing him to sit on the bed.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

He begins pacing, hands behind his back, eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses.

"First you up and disappear leaving all of us to panic and think you'd died, and now this! Is this because I couldn't fucking tell that it wasn't you for six months? Is that it? I already hate myself enough for it, Doctor, I wish every second of every day that I could change that, but there's nothing I can do-"

He continues pacing, losing himself in thought for a moment, his footsteps falling in time with the drums, a very rare things nowadays, proof that he was extremely agitated.

The Doctor refused to look at him. And scooted further against the bed. His nose scrunched up.

He avoided eye contact, hugging his knees as he listened to Harrison, lip twitching in distaste. He didn’t understand. At all. He had no fucking clue.

“I didn’t..I didn’t mean to disappear, first of all. I FORGOT. I didn’t mean to make everyone think I was dead, fucksake. I forgot. Zagreus was the only one there and-“

He choked on his own words, sputtering, and wiping at his eyes in frustration.

“It’s not your fault. How can I be around you knowing I couldn’t tell you sooner? Couldn’t save you? I hate this body. Because all it does is forget. And it’s a fucking NEST for a god made up of anti time I-“

He swallowed. Scooting further away until his back hit the bed frame.

“It’s not because of that. No.”

[rottingkiss]

GORE   /   HORROR   PROMPT   MEME -     send   🩸 for a randomly generated gory prompt OR pick a number for a prompt

@virusvexxed​ said: 055 /  lovesick. with zag & his auntie because he's been using her boon too long

My, oh, my! The other gods and goddesses have bickered at her RELENTLESSLY during this particular run-through of the Underworld that the little one is drudging through. Ever since Zagreus was BLESSED with her ounce of power, he’s gone just a tad off the DEEP end. He won’t accept anyone else’s boon; not until his search for his ONE (or two!) he wishes to call his is accomplished. One certainly cannot hurry a relationship, but how he is trying! The pink-haired deity cannot understand what could POSSIBLY be so awful about it all. Love IS the most powerful emotion of it all, and the boy truly needs it if he is to escape his stick-in-the-mud of a father. 

Well, not until she saw it with her own heart-shaped pupils, that is. 

❝You’re lovesick, dearest.❞    

That much is evident. When she steps off of Charon’s unpleasant boat, she is immediately greeted with the ghastly sight of mangled corpses of who she assumes were once residents of this realm. Each one of them with their chests torn OPEN, too! Tapping her barefoot against one body, she leans forward to see that the chest cavity is EMPTY of organs. Did her nephew decide to rip their hearts out and crush it? Perhaps even eat them as an act of revenge? Aphrodite has only done that on OCCASSION when rejected oh so wrongfully.  Understandable reaction! Too many of them is so bad for digestion, though! She really ought to lend a hand before he escapes her sights. 

The goddess flips locks of long hair over her shoulder and approaches the blood-stained Zagreus  with little caution, taking him into her arms so he can rest that weary head of his against her ample bosom. She pets the top of his head over and over again to soothe him, coos falling from glossy lips.

❝Oh, you’re in just an awful situation, aren’t you? It’s not because of my boon, but your suitors are BLIND. You’re doing the right thing. . .never take rejection lying down! You may be accustomed to swift deaths, but by your hand you ought to deliver it just the same! Here. . .allow me to assist you further along. Who is it that you’re yearning for now?❞    

[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.