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thegoodgayshit · 3 years

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Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-Four: I Challenge the Lord of the Dead to a Staring Contest

The effect was instantaneous. Belos howled as the blade sunk right through his robes, all the way to the hilt. Like mist being sucked into an eerie wind, his very essence began dissolving into dust, like any monster might. But instead of piling into the ground, it seemed to sink right into the blade, disappearing into the black metal.

First went his legs and arms, then his chest, then finally, with one last deadly glare that seemed to sink right into Luz’s soul, Belos disappeared completely inside the blade. With a loud thunk, his mask hit the dirt and rolled a few feet away from her, coming to a complete stop in the black Underworld dirt.

Belos was gone.

Luz swallowed hard, blinking down at the blade in her hand. It was, if possible, even darker and more menacing than it had been before. Dark mist swirled beneath the iron, and Luz couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt. Even if it was Belos, it was a pretty horrific way to go.

A wave of fury erupted over the crowd.

“She killed him!”

“That’s Stygian Iron!”

“Kill her! Avenge the Emperor!”

Luz quickly tried to scramble to her feet, but she couldn’t get far. Her side erupted with pain, spilling blood onto the dirt from her quick movement. Her whole body trembled with pain and exhaustion, and she couldn’t manage more than leaning on one knee.

But she wasn’t going to die, not now. Not when she was so close.

“Luz!” Amity cried out, and she felt the misty form of Amity surround her. Her hand passed right through Luz’s shoulder in an obvious effort to help her to her feet. She growled in frustration at the lack of contact and knelt next to her, scanning her over. When she saw the slash in her side, her gold eyes widened. “Oh gods…”

Luz’s throat was too dry to respond. She tried again to stand, but the trembling in her hands couldn’t get her a good grip on the sand to try and heave herself to her feet. She heard the thundering of footsteps approaching her and braced herself for impact.

Amity looked up and her eyes narrowed in rage. For just a moment, her misty form shimmered, and she held out her hand.

“Get back!”

For a brief second, it worked. The crowd skid to a halt about twenty feet away from them, gripping their weapons like they wanted nothing more than to charge. Amity’s form rippled, the mist around her body rippling a bright pink.

“BAH!” Achilles roared, holding his sword up. “You think you can control us, little girl? Your mother can’t help you here!”

“Belos is gone,” Amity retorted, “he can’t help you either. There is no more crossing to the other side of this portal, whether you like it or not. This is over.”

“It’s not over until the mortal who killed him pays the price!” Orpheus called, lifting his own weapon. “Belos restored us to our former glory! He was going to be out Emperor!”

“And look where that got you! Do you think he can come back and save you now? Belos was always doomed to fail. He’s gone. Killing Luz won’t bring him back.”

Luz watched as this slowly started to register over the crowd. Many of the gathering demigods were still, almost as if they were beginning to realize that without Belos, they wouldn’t cross over to the mortal world: not really. Belos never got the chance to activate it.

Of course, Luz did have a key of her own. A one-use failsafe, that she had to make sure the demigods never discovered. She needed to get her and Amity to the portal, and fast. But with the wound in her side, fast wasn’t something she was capable of.

“Don’t let her into your head!” Theseus growled, taking a slow step forward. “The portal is still open. We can still pass through!”

“You can’t,” Luz coughed, finally able to wobble herself upwards after snatching up Aletheia and using it as a cane. She staggered back a few steps, using the edges of the rocky portal to hold herself up. “Hestia’s flame is tied to Belos alone. Even if you were to try, the gods are waiting for you on the other side. It’s not a fight you can win, especially without Belos on your side.”

As discreetly as she could, Luz reached for the lighter in her pocket. Her hand gripped it tightly, looking over at Amity and praying that she would turn and make eye contact with her. The pink mist was still shimmering over her form, exuding raw power. Despite the stern expression on her face, it was obvious that Amity was using all the strength she could to hold back the force of the army. Her brows were knitted together, her cheeks puffed out with effort.

“Of course, Luz still has that Stygian Iron blade, if any of you would like to try getting close enough to see if she’s wrong.”

A ripple of visible discomfort washed over the crowd. Theseus scowled, raising his spear and calling to the army, “Enough of this, just kill them!” and Luz knew they couldn’t wait any longer. This was as good of a distraction as they were going to get.

“Amity!” Luz yelled urgently, and thank the gods that she understood. Without another moment of hesitation, Amity turned tail and ran towards her.

They only had a few seconds before the army was on them. Luz had to take a dangerous moment of standing alone on her two feet as her fingers closed completely around the lighter, holding it out towards the portal. Pain seared across her side, combatting with the instant warmth she felt wrap around the lighter, and as she saw Amity jerk to a halt in front of her she reached out with her hand…

And felt the immediate satisfaction of her fingers sliding between hers.

The awed and pleased look on Amity’s face was all Luz needed to flick her thumb over the metal of the lighter, and with a satisfying click, the portal sprung to life, and Luz felt Amity’s grip around her fingers tighten as she hastily yanked her through.

The sensation of being inside the portal was nothing she had ever experienced before.

For one, the pain in her body was excruciating. Now that there was nothing around her, well, besides the strange sensation of wind whipping around her without actually touching her, all she could really feel was the warmth of Amity’s hand in hers, the slash across her stomach, and her own exhaustion.

It was also completely dark. Luz was just praying that as the wind seemed to whip her to her destination that she was going the right way. She wouldn’t have been able to tell otherwise. She couldn’t see her own hand next to her face, never mind Amity.

The other strange thing she noticed was the complete silence. She was afraid to try and speak, she wasn’t sure if she’d scream, or cry, or throw up if she did, but she had the feeling that even if she could, nothing would come out.

It felt like hours, but also seconds. There was no way to tell. But finally, after the moment of darkness, the grip of Amity’s hand on her disappeared, and Luz went stumbling out onto the cold mountain floor.

The second her feet touched the ground, her whole body gave out. She heard a chorus of noises come from somewhere around her, and just as she thought for sure she was going to smack her face straight into the ground, strong arms scooped her up. The pain in her side flared up, and she cried out almost involuntarily, but even as she tried to open her eyes, everything around her was blurry.

She was pretty sure she blacked out for a couple of minutes because when she came too, the noises around her had escalated tenfold. There were shouts and screams, the sound of metal hitting armor, and a few loud crashes that sounded the farthest thing from natural. She was still being cradled, and she felt stinging all around her side as something wet was poured over her. When she looked up, she saw a wild mane of white hair.

“Eda?”

The look of complete concentration disappeared from her face as she shot a wide smile at her. “Kid! Thank the gods you’re alive.”

There was a huge crashing sound, and Luz’s ears started ringing as she pressed her cheek against Eda’s shoulder. “Is the mountain collapsing again?”

She shrugged, a single flash of her gold tooth poking out of the side of her mouth. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

There was another loud crash, and that was all she could remember before she blacked out again.

The second time she woke up, things were calmer. The banging had subsided, and she was lying on a sleeping bag in the corner of the mountain. The night sky was visible from the collapse that had been made inside the mountain, casting a soft light over the obviously quickly crafted campgrounds. There were a few torchlights here and there, and there was a cluster of nine figures gathered together and talking in low voices. Luz could recognize Hestia and her father, as well as Willow, Gus, Lilith, and Eda.

Relief washed over her at the sight of her friends. From what she was able to remember, there had been some kind of fight. She was glad they were okay.

Out of the new figures, Luz did recognize Aphrodite in the mix, but there was also a huge man Luz didn’t recognize, who looked a little bit too much like Achilles for her comfort. His facial features were just as chiseled as the demigods, and he had muscles on muscles to match.

Then, next to the whole group, slinking in the corner and looking like he would literally rather be anywhere else, was another man with a helm tucked under his arm that was so black it blended in with the night sky behind him. His face was daunt and narrow, and he was obviously being pestered about something by the others because his nose was crinkled in annoyance.

Then, a cold shiver snaked up her spine, and not just because the appearance of this man was the farthest thing from comforting. There was a person missing.

Where was Amity? Had she not made it out of the portal? Had the demigods caught her?

Luz did her best to pull up, but as she did, a small figure at her feet snapped its head up.

“Luz!” King cried in delight, getting to his feet and running at her. “You’re awake!”

At the same time he’d shouted, she’d tried to sit up, and the second she did hot pain shot across her stomach. She groaned and collapsed back down, and King peered over at her with concerned yellow eyes.

“Are you alright?”

Luz looked down at her stomach, which had been cut almost to shreds and was covered in blood. The actual slash across her side had been treated and was wrapped in bandages. She could already tell that to some extent it had been wrapped in nectar because the burning sensation was like hovering her hand too close to a fire rather than the all-consuming inferno it had felt like right before she passed out. But it certainly hadn’t been healed.

Even nectar took time to heal wounds like the sword slash on her stomach. Based alone on the amount of blood soaking her hoodie, she was surprised she’d been able to wake up at all.

But now she was awake, and she had questions.

“I’m okay, King,” Luz insisted with a smile, and King helped her sit up by pushing his back against hers to alleviate some of the weight. When she was sat up as comfortably as she could (which wasn’t comfortable in any sense, but it was bearable,) she turned back to the tiny hellhound. “What happened after I passed out? Did I hear… explosions? Is everyone okay? Is Amity…” the words caught in her throat and she swallowed. She didn’t want to ask, almost afraid of the answer King might give her. Amity’s hand had somehow slipped out of hers before Luz fell through the other side of the portal. Where had she gone?

“Some of those dead guys tried to follow you through the open portal. Well, a lot of them, actually. But don’t worry! Thanks to me and Eda and you know, your friends and the pile of gods that just randomly appeared after you went to the Underworld…” he narrowed his little yellow eyes, “thanks for giving us a heads up, by the way, it was totally not scary or stressful at all to find out you were in the Underworld.”

Luz smiled sheepishly, and King rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the point is with the gods helping us out, and Willow and Gus closing the portal behind them, it wasn’t much of a fight. We’re all okay.”

Luz was relieved, no doubt, but he still hadn’t answered the question about Amity. He seemed a bit more hesitant on that end, but thankfully he picked up on Luz’s anxiety because he quickly tried to reassure her.

“Amity’s okay, for right now anyways…” he said slowly and Luz swallowed hard.

“What do you mean ‘for right now', was there a problem when she tried to go through the portal?”

King grimaced. “Yes and no. Her soul made it inside no problem, but as she tried to cross worlds she got stopped by… well I guess you could call him the head of Underworld security.”

He gestured with a little claw towards the man with the black helm tucked under his arm, and Luz was smacked with the realization of who he was.

“Oh,” Luz breathed out, the severity of their situation washing over her and filling her whole body with dread. “Hades.”

“Yep,” King said with a nod. “He’s uhh… not too happy that the gods agreed to spare Amity.”

“Let me go talk to him,” Luz insisted, doing her best to grip onto the wall and pull herself to her feet. King immediately jumped to her side.

“What? Are you crazy? You can’t just talk to the Lord of the Dead. He’s… the Lord of the Dead.”

King seemed exceptionally nervous, which Luz thought was odd coming from him. He was usually brave if the last memory she had of him chomping on the legs of demigods told her anything. But, Luz supposed that he was still a hellhound. All monsters must fear the wrath of Hades.

Luz had been to the Underworld. It was scary. Terrifying, even.

But right now nothing scared her more than possibly losing Amity forever.

“Trust me, King,” she said, somehow managing to pull herself to her feet despite the pain in her stomach. “This wouldn’t even be like, the fifth thing most dangerous thing I’ve done this week.”

Despite his ongoing protests, she managed to get herself into a hobble and using the cave wall for support, slowly began to make her way towards the gathering group. Upon seeing her, Willow and Gus immediately shot to their feet, smiles breaking out on their faces.

“Luz!”

The chatter between the group quieted as everybody turned to look at her, and Luz, for just a moment, felt nervous. It was obvious now that she approached them that besides her friends and Eda and Lilith, the rest of this group were gods. They radiated power, from the tops of their heads to the bottoms of their feet.

If they wanted to, any one of them could snap her like a twig. Even if Hestia, who was watching Luz with warm amber eyes, exuded raw energy. And Luz had seen what she could do in battle.

Willow and Gus charged at her and pulled her into a tight hug, and even if it hurt and jostled her aching bones, she couldn’t help but immediately reciprocate. Her whole body was shaking, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure if it was from exhaustion, pain, or grief. For just a moment, she let Willow and Gus guide her towards the group, leaning on them for support.

“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Gus said, the smile still stretching across his face.

“Are you okay?” Willow mumbled gently into her ear, and when Luz replied with a half-hearted shrug, Willow gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Kid, what are you doing up?” Eda exclaimed, rushing forward to look her over. “You should be resting. That was a pretty serious stomach injury.”

“I’m fine, Eda,” Luz tried, but with the look she was giving her, Luz knew that Eda wasn’t buying it.

“Well, you know best,” she said, and though it was clear that she thought otherwise, she wouldn’t say it. Luz felt a rush of affection for the daughter of Zeus for not pressing her further. If they were going to talk about Amity, Luz needed to be there.

“Mi hija.”

Luz turned her head, looking over at her father from where he was standing next to Hestia. He was still in the suit he’d been wearing before, his hands in his pockets as he leaned casually against the wall of the cavern. It was a strange thing to see, a god trying to be casual, but Luz appreciated it. In a weird way, it felt like he was trying. Though the formalities were a bit much, she was oddly grateful to him. As much as you could be grateful to a dad who’d never been around and finally showed up to give a hand to a dangerous quest she never really signed up for.

Next to him, Aphrodite was watching Luz with a not-so-subtle smirk on her face that immediately brought heat to Luz’s cheeks. Like the first time she’d met Aphrodite, her form was shifting as Luz looked at her. But this time now that Luz was focused and not so caught off guard, it stayed that same form of understated ethereal beauty she’d had while they talked. Luz did her best not to focus too hard on it, but any traces of her previous crushes had vanished. Except for the traces of Amity. Aphrodite still had Amity’s crooked smile, and her eyes… they were definitely gold. It hurt Luz’s heart just to look at her.

“It’s good to see you again,” the love goddess said, before looking over at Hades with undisguised frustration, “though I wish it were under most celebratory circumstances.”

“Yeah, what’s got your helm in a twist,” the guy with the muscles jeered over Aphrodite’s shoulder. He looked like he’d been drinking way too many protein shakes and drank at a few too many motorcycle clubs. He was wearing these dark aviator glasses so Luz couldn’t see his eyes, and despite being so exhausted she could barely make the walk over to the gathering gods, when she looked at him anger rose up in her chest. The defiance that Hades wasn’t giving Amity back, annoyance at the gods for giving them this quest to begin with. “Can’t you just let my feisty little grandkid go? While I am all for demigods dying gloriously in battle, even you’ve got to admit the Fates did her dirty with this one.”

Hades, who had been silent since Luz approached them, grit his teeth. “I already told you, Ares. It’s not up to me if a demigod deserved it or not. My job is to keep the dead souls in the Underworld.”

Ares. Amity’s grandfather. Luz vaguely remembered Alador telling her that he’d been keeping an eye on Amity. He was probably here on her behalf.

Ares snorted. “Right, well you’re doing a great job with that. How’d you catch the little Blight and leave the entire demigod army flooding through these doors?”

Hades' nostrils flared, and a wave of cold washed through the mountain. Luz had a bad feeling that despite his good intentions, Ares wasn’t doing much in terms of helping Amity’s case.

“Enough, Ares,” Hestia said, stepping out from her spot next to Lilith, who was watching the whole conversation with anxious eyes. Hestia took a few steps towards Luz and put her hand on her shoulder. Immediately, warmth spread through Luz’s body. “You know as well as the rest of us that Belos had his own tricks to cheat death. Had Amity played his pawn, she’d have been able to walk through that portal just as easily as he and his army.”

Played the pawn. Luz tilted her head up to look at Hestia. “Amity and I were wondering why she was still all misty, even though the other demigods weren’t. It’s because she wouldn’t try to join Belos, isn’t it?”

Hades scoffed, and Luz tensed, turning to look at the god of the Underworld. She did not want to get on his bad side right now. But instead of looking upset at her, he put his hand near his temple, like the thought of Belos alone gave him a headache. “Belos and his army had been collaborating to overthrow Olympus long before you were born, child. His methods were calculating, he was able to sneak past my armies and guards by using dark magic to keep them hidden. Unless Amity willingly wanted to join, she would not have been granted the half-life the other demigods had taken.”

“A Half-life,” Luz said, finally understanding. “That’s why we were able to kill them.”

Hades now had his full attention turned to Luz. His dark eyes looked at her thoughtfully, like he was examining a new species of insect he’d never seen before.

“I’ve tried for many years to locate him along the River Styx. And yet, you were able to find him and destroy him in less than a day.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a jagged black weapon, and Luz’s stomach flipped at the sight of her messily crafted Stygian Iron blade.

Luz’s fingers rubbed the inside of her palms nervously. She didn’t like having Hades' full attention. The idea of having the guy who was the biggest deciding factor in if she lived or died being interested in her… well she supposed she was justified in feeling a little uncomfortable. But she needed to get Amity back. She couldn’t afford to feel uncomfortable, not now.

“Well, I couldn’t have found it without Amity, and I couldn’t have killed him without her help making the dagger…” she hadn’t meant to, but before she knew it, she was rambling. She told the gods and her friends the entire story from start to finish.

She told them about how she showed up in Charon’s office and used the gold Hermes coin to cross the river, she told them how she met Copper on the boat and found Amity in the judging line, she explained why they had to hide in the mine and craft the blade with help from NDA’s suit, (Hades’ mouth flicked upwards just slightly at that, though he didn’t cut her off,) she told them the really stupid plan to run through the army, (Ares whooped loudly when Luz described how she’d cut her way towards the portal, and Aphrodite cooed when she told them how she was worried she’d lost Amity in the crowd), then she told them about the confrontation with Belos, and finally, lighting Hestia’s flame and jumping hand in hand through the portal.

When she’d finished, her throat was tight, and she realized she was actually trying not to cry. Next to her, she felt Willow and Gus shift and look at her, noticing the tension built up in her body. Eda and Lilith shared looks, and Hestia rubbed her back gently. The gods, for their part in the whole incident, at least had the decency to look both guilty and impressed. Even Hades’ eyebrows had lifted slightly like Luz hadn’t been what he was expecting.

Until now, she hadn’t been able to really think about what was happening while she was down in the Underworld, or even when she was battling demigods and Belos inside the mountain. But she was tired and desperate, and all she wanted was to just go back to Camp Half-Blood and sit around the fire with her friends. But she couldn’t stop yet. Not until Hades gave Amity back. So, she took a deep breath and started again.

“Look, Lord Hades,” Luz said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I know why you might be hesitant about letting Amity come back. After everything I saw down there, I know how dangerous it can be when unnatural forces mess with things like death. But Amity wouldn’t… she wouldn’t be down there if it wasn’t for Belos. And even in the Underworld, she willingly did everything she could to stop him, and make sure he would never try to hurt anybody ever again. The prophecy might be about me, but Amity… Amity’s the real hero.”

Once she finished, the other gods looked to one another, watching Hades. From next to her, Luz's friends were staring in anticipation, waiting on his verdict. Luz was shaking, doing her best to grip her hands together and try to keep herself composed.

Hades was still watching Luz, his mouth set in a deep frown.

“I don’t doubt her heroism or yours, Luz Noceda. And do not think I am unappreciative of what you did in my realm. I… have never been invested, exactly, in the antics of heroes. Usually, if I’m honest, I find them quite insufferable. You are not the first demigod to ask me to change the course of fate, you know. You’ve met Orpheus, and known how unworthy he really was to ask for my help. My wife, Persephone, has always been more doting on the heroes who come to us for help. But my help always comes at a price-”

“A price that she has already paid, Hades,” Hermes retorted, leaning on his Caduceus. Luz’s father was glaring at Hades from his position next to the other gods. Luz had a feeling this wasn’t the first time he’d said that.

“Once again, Hermes,” Hades sighed, bringing his hand back to his temple. “That is not your call to make.”

“Then what kind of price do you want?” Luz said, reaching across her wrist to draw Aletheia. The sword shimmered in her hand. “I don’t care what it is. I’ll go steal golden apples for you, or kill a Hydra, or kill all those demigods we left in that clearing along the Styx. Whatever it takes. You want a price? Just name it.”

Everybody shifted uncomfortably. The gods murmured to one another. Next to her, Willow whispered her name in a warning. Lilith shook her head in disbelief, but Eda just rolled her eyes, like she’d been expecting this. Luz understood their concern, and while she was more than exhausted from the ongoing quest that never seemed to end, she would do anything Hades asked if it meant he’d bring Amity back.

Luz hadn’t been sure what she’d expected Hades to say in response to that, but she definitely didn’t expect him to laugh at her. His chuckle echoed around the clearing. It sounded like a thousand souls laughing all at once.

“Demigod, you look like you can barely stand, never mind fulfill the needs of a god.”

“I won’t just abandon Amity,” Luz said with a shake of her head. Her eyes flashed, tightening her grip on her sword. “Not after all this.”

There was a tense silence as Luz met the stare of the Lord of the Dead. He seemed to be eyeing her up and down, what he was looking for, Luz had no idea. But she kept her gaze hardened on him. She wouldn’t back down.

Eventually, Hades sighed. “You demigods never give in. It must be exhausting.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out a tiny glass jar. Inside, there was a single flame, flickering like a tiny firefly. Luz’s breath caught in her throat. Was that…

“You are lucky she never crossed into judgment. Once a soul passes through, they fade from a flame to an ember. It’s one of the reasons she was so easy to catch trying to pass back to earth. Flames always have more spunk than they should.” His gaze shifted over to Hermes, who had a smug little smile on his face. “If your father weren’t such a… nuisance as a guide, the passing on process might be easier. But you’re also lucky, little demigod. The revival process is much trickier once they are an ember. As of right now, Amity Blight’s soul still belongs to the hearth. It is not mine alone to give.”

Hades’ gaze flickered over to Hestia, who had her jaw set in a firm line. “I already told you, Hades. You have mine, and the gods, consent. Do what you must.”

Amity belonged to the hearth? Luz thought back to the drawing Alador gave her. There were three flames, one beyond the portal, one in the mortal world… but then the one in the middle.

Something between a half-life, and a living, breathing, soul.

Hades snapped his fingers at Willow and Gus. “Show me the girl.”

Luz’s heartbeat sped up like she’d just eaten an entire box of chocolate fudge from Dylan’s Candy Bar. This was it. Hades was going to bring Amity back.

But then there was an awkward pause as Willow and Gus glanced at Luz, and when she realized what Hades meant, her blood ran cold. She remembered what Hestia had said right before she’d gone to the Underworld… that Willow and Gus would have to recover Amity… did that mean…?

Willow and Gus walked Hades over to the edge of the mountain, where there was a hastily assembled cot with something wrapped in a beautiful amethyst-colored silk shroud. Luz’s legs gave out, and Eda and Lilith rushed forward, stopping her from hitting the floor.

“Amity…” Luz felt like she was going to retch and pass out all at once.

“My handiwork of course,” Aphrodite commented unhelpfully. “I couldn’t have my daughter be buried in anything but silk. And that color, just perfect if you ask me, don’t you think Ares?”

The god of war shrugged. “Sure, sure.”

“It’s okay, kid,” Eda whispered in her ear, while Lilith patted her back. “She’s going to be fine.” Luz just shook her head. She knew that being a half-blood was dangerous, but she’d never really thought about what would happen to her if she’d died on her quest. And then there was the fact that it was Amity under there… nausea kept building up the more she thought about it.

“I don’t think I can look,” she said. If just the sight of Amity’s shroud made her sick, she didn’t want to know what would happen if she saw her face. Lilith nodded in understanding.

“It’s alright. The first time is always hard.”

“Not that it ever gets easy…” Eda added sadly, and Luz wondered just how many times the daughters of Zeus had seen a demigod wrapped in a burial shroud.

Luz looked down at her tattered shoes as Hades mumbled to Willow and Gus. She heard shuffling, and quiet whispering from Hades, something that sounded almost like an incantation.

“Almost done, kid,” Eda said to her. “She’s going to be just fine.”

There were a few more moments of Luz screwing her eyes shut and her stomach swirling anxiously before she heard Gus’s happy shout. “She’s breathing!”

Luz’s head immediately shot into the air. Hades had backed away from the cot, watching Amity carefully. Gus and Willow were leaning over her, their faces split into ecstatic grins. The silk shroud was gone, likely poofed out of existence from Aphrodite. Amity was lying on the cot, exactly as Luz had seen her before she fell down the mountain. Her clothes were tattered, her sword resting next to her on the cot and her shield shifted into the bracelet on her wrist.

Before she could even really process it, Luz had run across the room and was leaning hard against the cot. For one terrifying moment, Luz thought she was still dead. When she reached out to take Amity's hand, it was cold. Her face was unusually pale, her mouth set into a neutral line. But then, as she examined her further, her chest slowly started to rise and fall.

Relief washed over Luz like a tsunami. She felt like her whole body had been spellbound by one of Antheia’s flower crowns.

“She’ll wake up soon,” Hades said. His face was neutral, but Luz thought she could detect the slightest bit of respect in his eyes. “Everything should be as it should like she never fell at all.”

“Thank you,” she breathed out, “thank you so much.”

Hades shrugged. “You’ve more than earned it. The gods are in your debt, Luz Noceda. Don’t make them regret it.” He reached into his cloak one more time and extended something out for her to take. Her eyes widened when she realized what it was.

“I should keep this. Only children of Hades are able to properly wield this Iron. But I sense after your time in the Underworld, it will yield to you. If my son were here, he would insist you take it.”

“You’re son…?” Luz asked as she reached out and took the dagger from him. It was still cool in her hand like she was wielding a thousand shadows as a blade. Hades’ mouth twisted into what almost could be a smile, turning back to the other gods.

“Well, it was a displeasure to see you all again,” he said coolly. Ares scoffed, Hestia and Hermes shared irritated looks, and Aphrodite gasped, affronted. “But please, don’t bother me for at least another three decades. I’ve really had enough of all this demigod nonsense”

With a dramatic wave of his cloak, Hades disappeared, melting into the wall of shadows.

The temperature in the mountain seemed to raise another few degrees. Luz felt a weight she hadn’t realized was there lift off her shoulders.

“Hades never really changes, does he?” Hermes said with a roll of his eyes, and Ares huffed, crossing his arms over his chest like he wanted the god of the dead to come back just so he could hit him.

“Why would he? That guy is a real piece of work.”

“He brought my daughter back,” Aphrodite mused, her eyes on the cot, a tiny smile twisting across her face. “That was certainly out of character for him.”

“Even the Lord of the Dead cannot resist the charms of your daughter, Hermes.” Hestia teased, and the messenger god chuckled.

Luz was only half-listening to their conversation, more focused on watching the rise and fall of Amity’s chest and squeezing her hand. It was over. This was really over. Amity was going to wake up, and then the four of them could return to camp and leave the fate of the gods, and the dead, and the prophecies to some other demigods some other time.

Willow came around the side of the cot and put her arm comfortingly around Luz’s shoulder. “Luz, she’s going to be okay. She just needs to rest. Right now, you should focus on getting some too.”

Luz shrugged her shoulders. “I can rest when we’re out of this mountain for good.”

“Speaking of that,” Gus piped up, looking over at Eda, Lilith, and King, who had also come near Amity’s cot to check in on her. “Do you guys have money? Because we have like, no way of getting back to Long Island.”

Luz heard her father’s chuckle before he approached them. “Why don’t you leave that to me? I am the god of travelers after all. Besides,” he glanced over at Luz and shot her a tiny smile, which Luz hesitantly returned. “All of Olympus owes you demigods for your service. You’ve more than earned it.”

Hermes waved his staff around and took a few phone calls… well, Luz figured they were phone calls because he was energetically shouting commands into his staff like it was a phone before they were ready to go. He had summoned a flying chariot and assured Luz and her friends that these ones had passed all of Soteria’s safety checks and had been deemed a 100% smooth ride. Luz didn’t know what that meant, but she figured anything was better than the bumpy ride they’d taken the last time they flew on a chariot.

Eda and Lilith were very careful as they loaded Amity’s cot onto the chariot first. Once she’d been buckled in near the front of the ride, Aphrodite came over and leaned into the cot, whispering a blessing. Soft pink powder spread over the base of Amity’s cot, and the demigod let out a tiny little sigh. She was still asleep, but her face had shifted into a peaceful expression as she snored softly. Luz hoped that she was having good dreams.

“You take good care of her,” the goddess said to Luz as she and her friends climbed on board. “It seems like you were destined for your happy ending after all.”

Luz’s face split into a deep blush, and next to her she heard Eda and Lilith snicker. Willow let out a happy gasp.

“So you two worked your stuff out?”

“What?” Gus asked, bewildered. “What does she mean your happy ending?”

“I…” Luz didn’t really know what to say, and thank the gods Ares took his opportunity to butt in.

“Hey, kid, I just gotta say I am obsessed with that signature move of yours,” he grinned maniacally like he’d been waiting for say that for hours. “And when she wakes up, will you tell Amity that she has my permission to practice with those abominations? That girl has raw strength, and I’d love to see what she can do with some practice.”

Luz grinned, slowly warming up to the god of war. He might be a little… eccentric… but Luz was too, so this conversation was way more her speed.

“I’ll tell her. Thanks for your help, Ares.”

As Eda and Lilith climbed in with King, making sure to sit close to Amity and keep an eye on her, Hestia and Hermes walked up to Luz and her friends.

“I owe you demigods a great debt,” Hestia said to them, her eyes twinkling softly. Now that she’d been out of Belos’ captivity for some time, it looked like most of her strength was returning. She looked like… well, any other healthy ten-year-old girl that happened to have godly powers. “If there is anything I could offer you for your heroic deeds, please just ask.”

“The same goes for me,” Hermes added, leaning on his staff with a proud smile. “You are well within your right to be rewarded for what you’ve done. Zeus has already offered to fast-track the four of you for internships and opportunities to work on Olympus when you come of age. We can gift you drachmae or mortal money if that is something you desire. Perhaps we could gift the camp a new volleyball court, or an updated swordplay arena, or-”

“Actually, dad,” Luz interrupted, a small smile pulling on her own lips. “I do have something in mind, you know, for a reward.”

Hermes nodded, “I would love to hear it.”

“I know that the gods made a promise to acknowledge their children by the time they turn 13,” Luz started, chewing nervously on her lip as she thought about what she wanted to propose. “But I think it would really change the way we run at Camp Half-Blood if the gods were to try and take that a step further. Every once in a while maybe you guys could just pop by for a visit. You know, remind us that you’re there for us if we need you.”

Hermes shuffled uncomfortably like he was already dreading relaying that message to the other gods. Luz quickly jumped back in.

“I know you guys are busy, and I don’t mean you have to come by every day or anything. Just… you know. Once in a while.”

Hestia turned and shot Hermes a smug little smile. After a moment, the messenger god sighed.

“Well, I can’t argue with that. I’ll relay that message to Olympus. Ask them what they think about instilling summer visits.”

Willow and Gus shot Luz excited smiles. Luz knew they had never gotten the chance to meet their own godly parents, and after the literal nightmare they had gone through together, they deserved it.

“Thank you, dad,” Luz said, meaning every word.

Hermes' eyes softened as he took in the expression on Luz’s face. “I know it doesn’t make up for the years I wasn’t around, but I will try to make it right. I swear it on the River Styx.”

“And I will hold Hermes and the other gods accountable once I return to Olympus,” Hestia added with a smile. “I swear it on the Styx.”

Luz and her friends thanked the gods one more time before they climbed up onto the massive godly chariot.

“And I have one more gift for you,” Hestia grinned. She waved her hands, and a massive picnic basket appeared in the middle of the chariot, along with blankets, pillows, and the goblets they served at Camp Half-Blood. Inside was a variety of hot homecooked meals Luz hadn’t had in forever. There was a delicious-looking turkey and ham, roasted yellow and sweet potatoes, freshly steamed vegetables, gravy, cranberry sauce, and the food just kept coming and coming.

“Holy Zeus,” Eda cheered with a whoop. As Luz and her friends wasted no time to dig in. “Hestia, you have officially become my favorite goddess.”

Once they were seated, Hermes tapped the back of it with his staff and a barrier rose up between them, with a window so they could see where they were flying.

“This will take you safely back to camp,” he promised. “You will return as heroes.”

Willow sighed. “I’m happy just to be returning at all.”

“Me too,” Luz and Gus said at the same time.

The gods waved goodbye to their group as the chariot slowly started to rumble as it moved along the mountain floor. It lifted off the edge, soaring into the air and out the newly made break in the side of Mount Pelion. Hermes had been right, the ride was smooth, so smooth that Luz could move right around the chariot while it was in the air despite the fact they were going fast: even faster than the first chariot had taken them.

The cityscape of Denver quickly zoomed by, and between bites of ham, Luz caught a tiny glimpse of Cherry Hills Village below her. She turned to look at Amity, who was still peacefully sleeping on the cot. Every once in a while Lilith would lean over and pour a bit of nectar into her mouth. Luz wondered if her parents would ever forgive her for the way she’d behaved the last time they’d seen them.

After the hell they’d been through, Amity deserved that and more. Luz was going to make sure she remembered that.

For now, though, she finished eating, talking excitedly with her friends about their imminent return to Camp Half-Blood. Her clothes might have been tattered, her muscles sore, and her body aching from her trek up the mountain and through the Underworld, but at the very least she was alive.

She was alive, and she was finally going home.

She reached into her backpack and pulled out her phone, excited to text her Mami all about her quest. Well, maybe not everything. Her Mami was still mortal, and there were some things that half-bloods should just keep to themselves, for their own mother’s sanity.

#the owl house #Percy Jackson AU #lumity #luz x amity #shelby speaks

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

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falling feels like flying

Guess whose back into writing! This is a gift for @minky-for-short who has just been an invaluable friend while I’ve been having a bad mental health time lately and this is her AU- a betrothal AU!

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

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The papers are signed, the agreement has been made, the ball has been thrown. Prince Zagreus and Prince Thanatos are officially engaged after a long betrothal and now everyone in their kingdoms can breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone but the princes themselves.

-------

There had been a pause. There had definitely been a pause.

Zagreus leaned back against the door he’d just closed and worried his lip as he thought, a very unprincely habit he’d had since he was a child and would never have done if he wasn’t alone. But he was alone, his chambers empty and silent apart from the humming, flickering candle beside the bed that some servant had helpfully lit for him and the whistling night air beyond the window. He couldn’t really still hear the dregs of the ball going on downstairs, his apartments were too far away, but the music and laughter and pouring wine still echoed in Zag’s head enough that it felt as though he could, lingering like the taste of alcohol on his tongue.

Though none of that concerned Zagreus. He was fixated on the pause, the slight, two second hesitation he’d definitely heard in Thanatos’ voice before he’d bid him goodnight, the way his golden eyes had flickered slightly and a different set of words had seemed to build on his tongue. It had only been for a moment but Zagreus was certain he wasn’t imagining things or thinking wishfully. Not this time.

Of course they’d left the ball together, it was only right, seeing as it was thrown to celebrate their official engagement, their step from betrothal into full, willing commitment of this marriage contract their parents had devised. They’d been sitting together all night, side by side, sharing their usual, comfortable conversation, even taking the first dance. More than once Zag had marvelled to himself at how far they’d come from gazing distrustfully at each other from opposite ends of a long table while Nyx and Hades dickered over dowries, from trying and failing to find a future in each other's faces. Now they laughed easily, now Zag teased Than for the stiff way he danced, made him chuckle and fire back with a dry comment about how his footwork wasn’t too stiff to knock him on his ass in the training yard. Now Zag rested easily against Than as they chatted amongst their friends when the ball wound down into a loose, easy knot of godlings happy to go long into the evening. Now everything felt so easy.

But as soon as they’d walked into the hall, heard the now slightly listing music and lilting laughter muffled, a kind of tension had settled between them. Like a held breath. Like Than was worrying something between his teeth, not one of his usual puzzles he did as a hobby or thought experiments to improve the running of his mother’s kingdom. He’d had a little too much wine and dancing to be really thinking about any of that, he’d been relaxed and smiling through the whole party, armour discarded and guard down. The way he only got sometimes but Zag looked forward to immensely.

It was a different kind of tension, a strange kind of waiting. Zag had let it lie, certain his new fiance would confide in him when he was ready, simply humming the last song Orpheus had been playing coherently before the wine really got to him, as they walked through the palace’s grand corridors up to the royal apartments. But it had never happened, his fellow prince had stayed closed mouthed and brooding up until the hallway split, Zag needing to go one way towards the crown prince’s suite and Than the other, to the rooms he and the rest of his entourage had been occupying for months.

Zag had turned. He’d waited. He’d fidgeted, hiking the shoulder of his robe up higher where it was starting to slip. He’d scuffed his heel into the thick red carpet.

And then Thanatos had simply inclined his head, wished him goodnight and turned away.

And that would have been it if not for that goddamn pause.

Zagreus sighed in frustration and began pulling away his finery, throwing aside the skull clasps and the gold bangles and cuffs, slipping off the silks, letting it all rattle into bowls and fall to the floor without thought. This was just like Thanatos, throwing goddamned spanners into the works when everything was going great. After they’d finally managed to become friends, grow closer, after he’d actually started to look forward to marrying him and maybe thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to see that face when he woke up every day, to maybe wondering about their wedding night...now he had to bloody pause.

Perhaps he’d had a little too much wine, though he only remembered a few cups. His heart was beating hard in his chest as if he’d just come from the practise yard, his face hot and his mouth dry. Zagreus knew what the sensible decision was, what his mother would gently counsel and his father would command. He knew he should slide between his silken sheets and go to sleep, forget all of this and make sure he didn’t look too hungover for their official engagement portraits in the morning. He should write it off as his own imagination, his brain making space for something it wanted to see.

Perhaps he’d wanted to see it for longer than he’d like to admit.

Zagreus dropped that thought like it was a metal sword that had been sitting in the sun too long. Frustration was easier. Annoyance even, a desire to take those surprisingly broad shoulders that could swing a scythe well enough to knock him on his ass in the training yard, glare into those eyes that had once seemed like cold, hard gold but had softened into honey over time, and demand to know what the fuck his problem was. Why in his father’s name, after everything they’d been through and how hard they’d worked to build something, whatever that something was, why he was pausing now.

Mouth now firmly set in the stubborn scowl he was practically famous for, Zag abandoned his passing acquaintance with good sense and crossed his chambers to yank on a red silk robe. He deserved an explanation and he was bloody well going to get one.

He had plans to storm out of the door with all the princely righteousness he could muster, march down the hallway and hammer on his betrothed’s door to wring some answers out of that statue of a man he would be calling husband in half a year.

Plans that fell apart completely when he threw back his chamber door to see Thanatos standing there, hand raised midway to knock, eyes wide and alarmed. Zag froze, all his frustration evaporating to be replaced by simple bewilderment. Than was still in his ball attire, all flowing black robes and gold jewellery, though rather more rumpled and flustered than he usually was. He had the look he got in his eyes when they’d be sparring together and Zag would surprise him with some move you only got to know from training with the great Achilles, in the split second before he went sprawling back in the dust.

But this time Zag was equally caught off guard.

“Good evening Zagreus,” Than eventually cleared his throat, his courtly politeness a little thin.

“Morning,” Zag corrected, rankling at the formality, Thanatos hadn’t talked to him like that in months, “It’s past midnight.”

A light blush dusted Than’s cheekbones, “Of course. A ridiculous time to come calling, I know but...I wanted to speak with you, if you didn’t mind. Or...were you going somewhere?”

Zag bit his lip then quickly stopped himself, stepping aside, “Nothing important. You can come in.”

Thanatos inclined his head and moved into the dark chambers and its flickering shadows, the candlelight catching on his finery. He moved with uncertainty, like he didn’t know where to put himself or how to exist inside of the one place in the castle that belonged to Zagreus alone. It made Zag’s stomach knot, hadn’t they spent hours here talking together? Hadn’t Thanatos fallen asleep on his bed just last week as they’d sat and read in companionable silence?

Why did Thanatos feel like a stranger to him all over again?

“You can sit,” he grunted, just to stop his betrothed’s awkward rocking on his heels.

Than seemed abashed at least, sinking down onto the expansive bed, making the ropes creak. He left room but Zag made no move to follow, standing and leaning against the black stone wall instead, folding his arms.

“Zagreus…”

Zag. You call me Zag. “What is it, Thanatos? Just say whatever it is you’re here to say.”

The perfectly carved face turned crestfallen, “I’ve upset you.” It wasn’t a question.

Zag just shrugged, wishing he could summon back his anger but it would be impossible. Not with Than sitting right here, looking at him like that.

“I need to apologise, Zagreus,” he sighed, pushing a hand through his white hair, ruining it’s usual perfect sweep, “I...I’ve never been good at talking about sensitive topics.”

“You’re the personification of death?” Zag couldn’t help the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

Than seemed relieved at the smile, relaxing a little, “Well, not that particular sensitive topic. But all the rest leave me feeling quite helpless and...and if I’ve seemed distant or closed off to you tonight, I’m very sorry.”

“Look, just tell me what sensitive topic you want to talk about,” Zag tilted his head, “Help me understand it. I mean, we’re officially about to be married now, we should probably start getting more comfortable with each other.”

Something in Than’s eyes flickered, “Well...that’s just it, Zag.”

Real fear settled with a heavy thunk in his stomach. Please don’t break the betrothal, please don’t go. Only later would he wonder why that had been his first thought and not ‘please don’t break the betrothal, my father will kill me’.

Than saw his expression and scrambled, panicked, “Not that I regret it. Not one bit, Zagreus, I promise. Oh gods, I’m making such a mess of this…”

Zag sighed and found himself twisting the ring Than had given him around on his finger, “Than, look it’s okay…”

“It’s not,” his betrothed shook his head, lips tight, “It’s not, I’m sorry. It’s just it made everything seem so real and it made me...it made me realise how big this all is.”

Now he was just surprised. The idea that anything, even marriage, could scare the unflappable Prince Thanatos really was a revelation. Feeling something of a fool, Zag quickly moved to sit beside him, taking one of the hands that was clutching miserably at his hair, holding it in his own.

“It is alright, Than,” he kept his voice steady, even if reversing their positions like this was disconcerting. Usually he was the one raving or panicking and Than would be calmly talking sense into him, “I understand exactly how you feel.”

Than have a long, ragged exhale, clutching his friend’s fingers tightly, “It was just them all looking at us tonight and it just made me realise that...that this is it. This is my home now and you’re my husband and...and it's all real. It's not just words on some agreement from years ago anymore and as happy as I am to spend the rest of my life with you, it's just...it's not how I would have wanted to do it.”

“Me neither,” Zag admitted, smiling a little sadly, “It feels all out of order, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” the relief on Than’s face was plain, “And I mean, gods Zagreus, I’ve not even kissed you, we won’t be having sex until we’re already bound for life…”

He snapped his jaw shut, hard enough that it must have hurt his perfect teeth. A dark blush stained his skin like spilled wine and he looked as though he was fighting every urge to vanish himself to the next room over. Possibly the next country over.

Zag managed to keep it to a mild smile, though his heart was hammering, “You’ve...thought about that?”

“I...I don’t want to give the impression it’s been my only concern…” Than’s voice became very clipped and polished in his embarrassment, “But...it’s crossed my mind, yes.”

“Well then…” Zag shrugged, voice casual and easy, “If you were amenable to it, why don’t we get that out of the way?”

There was a long pause as what he’d said sank in for Thanatos. If he wasn’t waiting with so much tension roiling in his stomach, Zag would have found it comical, how his eyes widened and his jaw went slack in slow motion.

“It’s...it’s not exactly proper…” he said slowly, though there was clear interest in his expression, in the way he was leaning closer to Zag.

“No,” Zag admitted, “And if you’d rather wait, I’d respect that entirely. Gods, if you don’t even want to do it on our wedding night, I’d respect that too. Betrothed or married, Thanatos, I will never make any demands of you in that regard.”

“I never believed you would,” Than murmured gently but he did look reassured.

Zag smiled, “But if you were open to it, maybe this could be a way to make this very big thing a little smaller? Give ourselves one less thing to worry about when that day comes? And you’d certainly know the man you’re marrying a little better.”

Than laughed, the sound not as nervous as it might have been, “True...I rather think this could work, Zag. No pressure, no expectations, no matter if it was good or bad because...well, because we’d have time to try again?”

“As much time as you wanted,” Zag nodded, his smile growing, “On our own terms.”

“Our own terms,” Than repeated, looking like those words were the last anathema his anxiety needed.

Zag couldn’t blame him, the last few months had been a flurry of decisions about their lives, all ones other people had made. It was good to seize one for their own.

“And you’d hardly be dishonouring me,” Zag chuckled lightly, “I’m to be your husband, after all. I have no intentions of being anyone else’s.”

“Neither do I,” Than gave a soft laugh, “Though you may change your mind when you see how, ah...inexperienced I am at this.”

“Oh come off it,” Zag elbowed him lightly, “Everyone is at the start, you know it doesn’t bother me, just like how I am pretty experienced doesn’t bother you.”

Than nodded his confirmation, though his eyes wandered back into nervousness after, “So...um, where do we start?”

“You want to go now?” Zag couldn’t help a bemused little laugh though his body answered with it’s own eagerness.

“I do,” Than nodded, now barely an inch from Zag’s face, when had he moved so close? And when had Zag moved to match it?

“Then, if I may have this dance, my prince?” he grinned rakishly, throwing the last of his reservations out of the window.

They had kissed before, chaste pecks on the cheek at balls and for the cheers of the crowd then the light, playful kisses to the forehead Zag gave all his close friends. But immediately, as their lips met, they knew this was different. This was shifting ground underneath their feet, a definition that wouldn’t form until they asked it to. And Zag let Thanatos ask first.

He did, after a moment, tilting his head so their mouths fit together better, opening his lips slightly, inviting Zag to lick into his mouth. When he obliged, the stoic, self assured emissary of death actually whimpered, a shudder running through his body as he pressed closer. Suddenly he was kissing him with such abandon that Zag was forced to break it, just so Thanatos would realise how much he needed air.

It was impossible to not laugh at the flush on his cheeks or the shine in his eyes, like a man who’d been starving tasting his first bite of food. Judging him ready and willing, Zag let his robe fall from his shoulders, untying it at the waist and letting it drop away entirely. He let Than’s eyes travel over all of him, let him have far more than any glances as they’d changed after sparring.

“Oh…” was all Than could seem to say but the look in his eyes filled in the gaps, “Zagreus…”

Zag grinned, reaching out and teasingly flicking one of Than’s dangling earrings, “Now you?”

His betrothed undressed a little more awkwardly, more clasps and buttons and layers to be dealt with, to be tossed over the side of the bed to tangle with Zag’s. But gods was it worth it, every last inch of smooth, dark skin, every angle of his lean, wiry muscles, the dusting of pale hair leading down to the silky thicket around a cock that was everything Zag had imagined it might be.

“So?” Than asked, voice edged with nerves again, eyes more vulnerable than Zag had ever seen them.

Zag spoke plainly so Than’s own mind couldn’t help but believe it, leaning forward and putting his hand gently against one cheek, “You are an incredibly beautiful man, Thanatos. I did really get very lucky.”

From the bright eyed way he smiled, his words had struck home.

This time, as they kissed, Zag rolled them gently, guiding Than onto his back with his legs apart. Already his cock was responding with endearing enthusiasm, Zag’s fingers helped it the last few steps of the way, only needing a few light strokes until he was hard. From the way Than moaned and arched under those gentle brushes of his fingers, Zag was already deliriously excited to show him what more he could do.

“Listen,” he murmured, tapping his aquiline nose lightly, “Just lie back and let me take care of you. The second something you don't like happens, just say the word and it stops.”

“Yes Zag,” Thanatos breathed, eyes fixed on him with a kind of trust he was rarely gifted.

To see it shining there in those golden eyes, dancing with the firelight in them, Zag almost faltered. Almost. Barely a pause.

He bracketed Thanatos’ hips with his knees, guiding his cock into him slowly. Than’s head tipped back with each inch, his jaw slackening and breath coming in short gasps.

“Zag...fuck, Zagreus…”

“You sound so cute when you swear,” Zag laughed breathlessly, bracing himself for the last few inches, shuddering as his hips pressed against Than’s narrower ones.

Seemingly with a mind of their own, Than’s hands skated over every part of Zagreus they could reach, determined to explore. His thumbs traced the thin scars under his nipples, his fingers traced the hollows of his collarbone, he grabbed generous handfuls of his ass as he started to rock slowly. Zag would never have thought his betrothed would be so tactile, his distant, reserved Thanatos would be so eager with his hands.

It seemed Than wasn’t the only one learning things tonight.

He focused on the task at hand, working his hips, leaning back to take as much of his betrothed as he could. Gods but it had been a long time and perhaps even longer since it had felt this good with anyone. Something instinctive seemed to be working between them, something that reminded him of when they fought side by side, how Thanatos would always know exactly how to match him and fill the gaps he left, how they felt unstoppable.

Something that made Zagreus think this was going to work.

“Zag,” Than’s voice, strained and thin, snapped him back to the here and now, “Zag, I’m gonna…”

“Good,” he leaned down to press their foreheads together, brushing Than’s lips lightly with his own, “That’s alright, just let go. I’m there with you.”

Permission granted to him, Thanatos gave a strangled cry, hips lifting up enough that Zag found himself having to hold on. There was the snap of released tension, a sensation of heat flooding into him, sharp contrast to the rest of the cool skin pressed against him. It was enough to send Zag tumbling over the edge with him with a sigh of release.

In the moments after it broke, after the rushing waters had settled and all that was left was the ragged, panting breaths, Zagreus waited. He waited to see the realisation dawn on Thanatos’ face, to see the shame flood in to replace the hollow left behind, to watch him decide they had made a terrible mistake. He hadn’t realised that fear had still been lurking in a quiet corner of his mind or perhaps he simply hadn’t cared, it had stood in the shadow of his own desire and the need to help Thanatos.

Zagreus waited for the pause.

But all that happened was a smile. A smile that spread over Thanatos’ face like a sunrise, tired and shy and satisfied.

“Oh yes. I could do that for the rest of my life.”

Zag burst out laughing, the sound raw from his strained voice, he’d been louder than he’d realised.

“Glad to hear it, Than,” he chuckled, gently extracting Than from himself so he could roll onto his back, “I...I’m glad we did this. This was a good idea.”

“It was,” Thanatos hummed, closing his eyes and tipping his head back in satisfaction, “Now this is always going to be ours, whatever else happens.”

“Ours…” Zag repeated, finding his mismatched eyes lingering on Than’s face, watching the shadows find all its angles and hollows. He rather liked the sound of that.

He wouldn’t ask Thanatos to return to his own room. If anyone saw him leave in the morning, they’d just say the princes had drunk too much wine and collapsed into bed still fully clothed. The fact that Than would be creeping along the corridor still in his finery would help the illusion, after all. They could have this night together, the night that was only theirs.

And all the nights after that, well, they’d find excuses for those too.

Zag smiled as he pulled Than close, let him rest against him as he drifted into the kind of peaceful sleep you could only have after a great weight of worry had been lifted from you. The kind of sleep where you felt completely safe.

There had most definitely been a pause. And Zagreus was so glad of it.

#hades #thanzag #betrothal au #smut #hades fic #zagreus #trans zag #thanatos #please reblog and comment!

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mi6-cafe · 4 years

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HERE ARE THE DRABBLES FOR WEEK 2!

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Title: Sisyphean Author: Anyawen Warnings: MCD (Major Character Death) Summary: Cause. And effect.

He had refused to give up when the signal was lost. If there were the slightest chance, the smallest trace, he would find and make use of it. He wrestled with technology, fought bureaucracy, and ignored his own limits. Like Orpheus, he followed a trail gone dark and cold to find the hell where his beloved was held. A team already en route for rescue, he activated a camera. Like Orpheus, his love was lost as he laid eyes on him. An indicator light on the camera blinked to life, betraying their surveillance, and they gained visuals only to watch his agent's execution. Unlike Orpheus when he lost his Eurydice, he did not fall prey to despair. He would not betray his lover's memory or dishonor his sacrifice by pining away. He channeled his grief into ingenuity, political savvy, fierce protectiveness, and an icy, vengeful fury. He focused on the interests of the country for which his lover had given his life, and the other agents who continued to risk everything in that same service. He would do everything in his power to keep them safe and bring them home. Gods have mercy on any who tried to stop him.

Title: Savvy Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: no Archive warnings apply Summary: Bond is missing...

He couldn’t find James.

He’d often had to remind the newer techs that the double-oh agents might play dumb to get out of filing reports but the nature of their job these days required them to be almost as computer-savvy as Q Branch themselves. And Bond was more skilled than most, though he kept it quiet. So an unaccustomed panic threatened to overwhelm him the longer James was missing.

There was no trace despite hours of desperate searching through surveillance footage. He’d even hacked into dashboard-camera databases online. Bond had walked into that bloody meeting and all electronics had gone dark.

“If he were dead, there’d be a body!” he’d shouted at M. Other agents were out looking, but there was no evidence at the location. If Bond had been abducted, there was no rescue possible yet. Q refused to think of torture.

James would leave a sign...somehow...somewhere...if he could.

In frantic desperation, Q started checking logs of internet-connected devices. A smart bulb in an industrial warehouse was reporting an intermittent error, probably from faulty wiring, but Q mapped the errors and times from the online log and found a rough pattern: long long short long. Morse code for Q.

Title: Blind Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: None. Summary: He couldn’t see.

He couldn’t see.

He needed to find them, but he couldn’t see.

Fear. A fist, seizing his heart. Squeezing his chest until all he could feel was sheer panic. Struggling to breathe.

A hundred scenarios ran through his mind, a warning of what might happen if he failed. Cyber attacks going unprevented. Terrorist attacks unthwarted. Agents dead. All because of him.

Because the Quartermaster wasn’t at his post.

He needed to find them. The Quartermaster needed to return to his post.

But he couldn’t see.

Where were they? All the intel said they would be here. They must be here. They had to be.

What if they weren’t?

How would he explain?

What would he say when M asked him why the Quartermaster was missing?

There was no other option, he had to find them. He couldn’t give up.

But he couldn’t see.

Blindly, he reached out, feeling around. His fingers brushed over the debris of a life interrupted. He recoiled as his hand came into contact with a pool of liquid. Still warm.

Oh, God!

More urgently now, he sought, knocking things aside. There wasn't enough time!

There!

Q put on his glasses, finally ready to face the day.

Title: Tennyson Author: sorion Warnings: - Summary: Bond loves more easily than he would like to.

‘Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

"What utter nonsense," Bond said, drink in hand. It wasn't his first. Nor his second.

If he could travel back in time, he'd choose not to love. Every time.

Love brought him nothing but betrayal and pain. How could loving and losing be better than never loving in the first place? He wouldn't be blind to the inevitable betrayal (and death) without love.

Today's reason for the drinks was that time travel didn't exist, and Bond had once more been confronted with the frustrating fact that he couldn't not love, time and again. Much as he would have liked to.

"Just how drunk are you?" someone asked, sidling up to his solitary spot at the bar.

'Not drunk enough to purge you from my system,' Bond thought. Despite his best efforts and iron will, he made the mistake of lifting his head, meeting questioning but undemanding eyes.

Reflected in those eyes, he found the truth that love was as much his constant companion as death. Neither weakness nor enemy, but the backbone of his very nature.

"Perhaps... 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world."

Title: Hunger Author: sunaddicted Warnings: canon typical violence, toxic relationships Summary: the truth hurts more than a bullet wound He pursed his lips, eyes contemplating the ruin spread out at his feet: his life, his career, his dreams - everything lay shattered on the ground, all of his hard work and his striving aspirations turned to dust. "Hungry - you were always hungry for more than you can chew, clever boy" Q pursed his lips, refusing to look at the other - stubbornly staring out at the moors, fog slowly raising from the earth like poisonous vapours "It's your fault, Raoul" "Shut up" "It wasn't the plan!" "¡Callate!" Suddenly there was the cold circle of a gun's barrel pressed in the middle of his forehead - so icy that it almost burned against his skin. Q swallowed, tightening his hands in fists that would do nothing to protect him from a bullet straight to the brain "She doesn't give a shit about you, she never has" Raoul sneered "And you do?" "Yes, I do" Raoul laughed, derisive and cruel: it hurt more than a bullet ever would but Q wasn't giving up on him - he wasn't sure he could; yielding under pressure and escaping just wasn't an option, they were together for life, inextricably bound together. No matter how deadly Raoul's love was.

Title: Lost and Found Author: Ksania / starrboned Warnings: implied canon-typical violence Summary: James made a promise he couldn't keep.

James finds him kneeling in the ruins, a dark silhouette against the fiery sky.

His sword makes a quiet "slink!" as he unsheathes it, flaring in the dying light. The blade's pale as it kisses Q's neck.

"Hello, James," Q says. "I hoped it would be you who'd find me."

Waves clash beneath them, salt heavy in the air.

"Nothing to say?" Q asks. "You always were a man of few words."

"They're coming," James breathes, watching as Q rises to his feet, turning.

His eyes are bloodshot, face pale. Black cloak hanging from skinny shoulders. A shadow of the man who held James's heart.

"James." Q cracks a smile. "You promised."

Once upon a time, when they were a Queen's mage and her knight.

James grips his sword, knuckles white.

He lets the blade drop. "I'm not killing you."

"You must." Q takes a step closer. "You know what she'll do -"

Footsteps approach. James pulls Q into his arms.

"Then we both die!" Q hisses, clutching at his cloak. "And everything was for naught!"

"So be it," James smiles, kissing him. "We both knew it was going to end this way."

Q sighs. "They're here."

James raises his sword.

Title: Adamant Author: IrishWitch58 (captain-magicalkitty) Warning: Effects of violence Summary: Q ponders the similarities between himself and 007

The monitors beeped steadily, monotonously. Q hated the sound that screamed the fallibility of his systems, that made him face the ways in which he couldn't keep his agents safe. He shifted in the chair, the same he had occupied for the past 10 hours. He was connected to his branch, overseeing ongoing activities but that mattered less than the silent battered figure in the hospital bed. James had once again both succeeded and failed in that spectacular fashion that made him the best MI6 had. The mission goal had been accomplished but the medical evac had been a skin of the teeth exercise. More damage done, more scars. Bond's resume was written clearly on his body, scars upon scars marring the skin Q valued more than his own. Q acknowledged that his technological efforts could only do so much. It was the indomitable spirit of the man that was at issue. His nature was to push beyond the known and see for himself and to never give in to circumstance. In his own way, Q was the same, which was why he would sit and wait and plan how to avoid the next disaster, as unyielding as any agent.

Title: The End Author: Venstar Warnings: angst(?) Summary: farewells.

It was all coming to a close with this next mission. It was a death trap. Once he went in, there was no coming out.

“Duty calls, I must go.”

“That's bollocks.”

007 smiled down at Q and brushed a finger across his chin and down his jaw. “This will be your first resurrection to witness, won’t it? Every story has an ending.”

“There’s only one 007 in my books.”

007 laughed at the jokes Q valiantly made with effort.

Q’s eyes narrowed and his lips compressed into a straight line. “I’ll find a way to get you back.”

“Seek and you will not find me,” Bond whispered, “It will be a new 007 when you finally yield to the inevitable.”

“Never!”

“So they replace me and they will replace you.”

Q shook his head. “We could leave. Would that be so terrible?”

007 looked at Q with pity in his eyes. “That would be treasonous.”

“It’s not like you’ve never skipped town before!” Q blurted out, his cheeks red.

“I am no traitor.”

“No, you’re a loyal dog. Now I understand why M kept that hideous thing on her table.” Q spat his words at 007’s feet.

“Goodbye, Q.”

Title: Never Yielding Author: iambid (flantastic) Warnings: None Summary: James is bullish, Q just wants him to stop.

Q waited for him outside M’s office.

“What the hell, Bond?”

James didn’t miss a step as he carried on down the corridor forcing Q to trot to keep up with him.

“James! Talk to me!” He pleaded.

James stopped abruptly and whirled around.

“About what? What exactly would you like to talk about?”

“This!” Q responded hotly, gesturing. “Why are you going back out into the field?”

“Because they need me.” James snapped.

“But I thought…”

“What exactly? That a gunshot wound would put me out of action permanently? That I would want to spend the rest of my days hanging around your house like some kind of rescue dog? I have a job to do, Quartermaster.”

He went to turn but Q grabbed his wrist.

“What about us?” Q asked quietly.

“There is no us.” James said and then, when he saw the hurt in Q’s eyes, he added; “It was a dream. Thank you for taking me in and taking care of me, but it can’t continue.” He looked down at Q’s hand, still resting on his wrist, and regretfully shook it off. “People like me don’t deserve people like you,” he said sadly before walking away.

#10

Title: ghost Author: azure7539 Warnings: none Summary: Question and answer.

What went wrong?

By the time he arrives, there’s nothing of value left. He takes in the sight of the cramped room—one bare mattress in the corner, energy bar wrappings pushed into a pile, empty water bottles strewn around the floor—and stops at the coffee table. The near humid scent of cigarettes lingers in the air, unseen but winds like spidery gossamer, spooling from the crushed fags in that full ashtray next to an abandoned laptop.

His eye twitches.

Barely gone but not within chasing distance, his mind grudgingly concludes, and he sits down on the cracked tiles with a grunt. Despite the Caribbean sun flaring outside an unrelenting spot of heat as it pierced in through the windows, the place sustains a perpetual coolness that settles on his shoulders a phantom weight.

Really, he should worry more about potential booby traps in the laptop, but the thought doesn’t even stir his apprehension, and he opens it anyway.

The words he finds on the screen seize his breath before flickering back into an empty void.

His earpiece crackles to life with a hissing fit. “Status report.”

“He’s gone,” Bond growls, shutting the device with a harsh click.

/I went wrong./

#11

Title: The Perfect Gift Author: Shush_MummyWriting Warnings: None Summary: "to strive, to seek, to find, but not to yield."

The moment he saw her, he knew she was perfect.

Madelaine was not just beautiful, but brave, smart and had a backbone of steel. Knowing her background, she was the ideal partner for an old warhorse like James Bond.

Q felt the tiny flame that had been nurtured by every bit of banter, every special look sent his way, every promise extracted, compounded by every risk he had taken for Bond, flicker and die.

When he returned to his favourite workstation in the bowels of Q Branch, the information he had requested from the Archives had already arrived. Q had followed Bond’s career even before their first official meeting and as he looked over the old blueprints, he realised this would be the perfect farewell gift for Bond.

Besides, it would make an excellent project for the Garage minions. With a little creative accounting, sketches already flowing from his fingers to his screen, he would pour every ounce of his brilliance into the DB5 and it would be ready when Bond got back.

Then Q would be able put all those inconvenient feelings behind him and say good-bye to James Bond, with a smile, like the friend that he was.

#12

Title: 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world Author: scarytheory Warnings: mention of character death, depression Summary: James's got his happily ever after with Madeleine. Still – he's struggling every day.

...you should know-

James wakes up from a nightmare, panicking, trying to catch his breath. Madeleine is used to it by now. She just whispers ‘you're safe, you're home’, still half-asleep. But he gets up and pours himself some whisky because he doesn't know what home means anymore.

Everything is blurred. Maybe he made the wrong choice. Even though she's here, and he loves her.

But he's still thinking about that phone call. It's been six months, and he can't stop thinking about it.

“Q died. I thought you should know.”

Wrong home.

More whisky.

And more nightmares.

There is a weird inner ache that James can't even name; he is too afraid to do so. A little bit of it belongs to Madeleine because they can't be happy together; it will never be enough. It's also about Q because James failed him. He knew and he left anyway, left everything that could have been.

But mostly it's about James himself. Because he's so tired and scared to go back and fight again. But in the end, he knows that he will do what he always does.

Not yield.

Not yet.

Even though the whisky is burning in his throat.

#13

Title: Unyielding Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: Q will hate that fucking poem for the rest of his life...

“You’re going to lose him.”

“I’m not,” Bond grunts over the comms.

“Repositioning 006 to intercept,” Q replies, signaling to R.

He looks back at the screen to find Bond has stolen a motorbike.

“007, stand down. The plaza’s too crowded.”

“All the more reason to stay with the bomb.”

Q sighs, switching screens to an aerial view. Bond’s so stubborn since his return.

Though, not at first. At first he was accommodating… practically deferential…. And Q was unyielding in his anger. It’s taken months to find their rapport... for Q to acknowledge they still make a good team, ignoring the dull ache of what else he wishes they might be.

“Approaching the bridge.”

“I see you,” Q says, refocusing.

“Good place to douse a bomb...”

“But how would…” Cold dread fills Q. 007 is still fast, but even he acknowledges his reaction times have slowed...

The motor revs. “'We're not now that strength which in old days—’.”

“James Bond, don’t you dare quote Tennyson at me!”

Q watches Bond grab the mark—

“JAMES!”

—and hurl them both off the bridge. He hears the rush of wind, a splash, and then static.

The water-muffled explosion on the screen is silent.

#14

Title: The Balad of Sir Bond Author: ladymars Warnings: Implied Major Character Death Summary: A prince seeks for his knight.

Lady Moneypenny, from her kneel and still wearing her tattered armor, presented a scrap of burnt fabric to her prince. "This is all we found of him, Your Highness." Cold ice ran through the prince's veins. His breath left him. "No, that can't be..." "I saw him go into that cave myself," the knight interrupted, her voice tight, "I told him we should return, call for reinforcements, but he pushed inside." "Stubborn bastard..." Sir Bond had escaped from dire situations, deadly situations, returned to life with a smirk, a swagger, and the head of their enemy in hand (never his sword, of course, always losing and breaking those), but from a man-eating monster? Of course he's stupid enough to jump in without hesitation. Something pushed the prince up from his throne and to his feet. He staggered as if grief had possessed him and moved his limbs like the automatons he assembled, a yearning pulling him forward. "I'll find him. He's out there. I'll search the ends of the world for him." Moneypenny paled. "But sir—" "No!" His voice did not sound like his own, strangled and high. "He's out there!" A fury flickered in his eyes. "I'll never yield."

Thank you all for writing these wonderful drabbles!

Thank you all for voting and making this properly fun!

Here is the post announcing the winners.

#LDWS #angst #signal boost #writing competition #james bond fanfiction #last drabble writer standing #drabble

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trashcanalienist · 4 years

Text

I think, returning, I felt rapture.

I couldn't be sure, all I can say is - it shivered through me like a pleasant breeze murmuring with brine, it whispered delirious euphorias in the glowing greenhouse of my mind, it shook my flesh and for a very long second there I KNEW the song the universe plays...or, I had Hurdy Gurdy Man playing lovingly in my head since I'd been listening to Donovan for some lovely hours and I've always known it, but something more than just knowing - something feeling - pure understanding, cosmic understanding. Histories of ages past, unenlightened shadows cast, down through all eternity, the crying of humanity...and I was LOVE

Donovan Leitch! I called him a star, once, and I was true - a star, such a bright beautiful star, fallen curiously in shimmering lightning showers to rest and lay upon and in awe of our gentle Earth and its more than wondrous people...the marvelous fancy of such a timelessly time-bound planet, oh...I love him, I love him, I knew I could know him and lo in this perfect chance always fated to be (though what I wouldn't have given to know of such sleepy, such glorious, such wonderful days in my times of despair!) I know him though not him but…

His star, unbelievably bright and kind and awesome and so full of love, as I am, love, love flowing from him like calm electricity, and my mind burst open beyond clarity and in my new lolling ravestate I could do no more than grin in perfect tranquil elation behind this mask of a face…

It's the knowing, and the freedom, and the living peace I can somehow feel...nothing has changed, yet I am different and my skin sings and rustles with gentle absurd adoration...I cannot speak for eyes; I know not what this face holds. But my heart is open and seems to howl in tune with the joyful wind, roaming, and there is nothing I love more than everything and no one I love more than he who brought kindred light to me (it seems, and I say it with certainty) from ages past and current, elating me and (like Orpheus) turning my bestial raging flesh into a human creature capable now (incredibly) of doing things without worrying about the stares and thoughts of others.

Ooh...I went with intent to have a specific type of good day (a chilled one) but somewhere amid dressing as my flesh has cried to for since I took life and the simple perfection of the way I spent such an overlovely day, I must have tumbled off the Earth's gravitational board and now I drift like moonbeam through night-frosted window, like gossamer thread in spring, like aimless feather floating on dry rising thermals to a warm destination it and it alone knows…

Hey, did you know he's more than could possibly be imagined? And he was such a young man, a living star so newly given breath, a boy of only nineteen with worlds beyond communication but so perfectly understood reflected in his eyes…

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druid-for-hire · 5 years

Note

Please write Orpheus and Eurydice's first proper conversation where Eurydice isn't 0.05 seconds away from falling to her death, causing Orpheus to stay in a state of low-grade panic for hours?

There’s a flyer on the floor when Eurydice comes home to her apartment. God, this shit again, she thinks, and nearly kicks it aside until she spots the familiar font plastered across the top. That’s… strange. She’s never gotten a flyer from Hermes’ bar before.

… Apparently they’re having some sort of student event all night for a few nights next week. Open mic for all the music students. Orpheus works there, doesn’t he? Is this an invitation?

Either way—the college this is for is the same as Orpheus’. She’s pretty fucking sure this is an invitation.

And if it’s not, she’ll drag him into it.

“You invited her?”

“Yes.”

Orpheus is a little giddy and Hermes can tell. He shakes his head, bemused, as he wipes down the counter. Orpheus is practically vibrating; the only reason he’s sitting still is that he’s too focused on tuning his guitar.

Hermes sets down his rag. “You know, she’s going to want to hear you sing.”

“I know. I’m not worried about that. She’s heard me sing lots of times.”

“Muffled through the ceiling, sure. Or outside without any real acoustics somewhere above her head. Have you thought about what song you’ll sing?”

A delay while Orpheus processes, concentrated on the tuning pegs. “No?”

“Well, you better pick something good.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

Orpheus is worrying.

Eurydice’s coming. She’d told him as much over the balcony, and then proceeded to pester him for an hour about why he owned a crumhorn. And he has figured out what song he’s gonna get up to sing, and he wants to really impress Eurydice with the proper equipment (and a loop pedal!), but he’s just… anxious. What if she doesn’t like it?

Oh god, what if she doesn’t like it? She’ll spurn him. Her image of him will lower and she’ll start seeing him as annoying and she’ll get irritated and stop talking to him, and then she’ll move and he’ll never see her again and then he’ll fail all his classes and die.

“I’m going to die,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” Hermes replies.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“No, she’s not.”

No, she’s not. Orpheus knows logically that none of that would happen—she wouldn’t drop his sorry behind just because he flubbed a performance (probably), they’ve been talking for weeks now and she at least loves his music as filtered through her ceiling. And she’s so funny, and sweet and kind and badass and capable and nice and beautiful and he thinks he’d die if she rejected him from her life outright.

God, he’s gonna die. Orpheus grumbles and puts his face in his hands.

Eurydice walks through the door.

Orpheus mulls over how well the evening’s gone so far as he watches the next students play their set.

Eurydice’d walked in, he’d fumbled around and said hi, sat her down, got her drinks, asked if she wanted any food, he’ll go get it you chill back okay? He wanted to be hospitable. She’d just smiled and laughed and told him to go get them a salad and fries to munch on.

Bit of a weird combo, but he wasn’t gonna go complaining about getting green in his diet. (He will complain later about how he’s gonna have less money than usual, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t spend for her.)

Then they… talked. Like they usually do over the balcony, but this time with more ease and less straining and much less constant risk of teetering over a railing and falling to their deaths. It’s the first real conversation they’ve had that didn’t involve an immediate risk of dying.

“Come home with me?” he asks suddenly.

Eurydice blinks. “What?”

“After this.” He nods towards the kids on set. “Come home with me? We can keep this going and hang out properly for once. You live right downstairs, so it won’t be hard to go home. I promise my apartment’s not a mess.”

Eurydice stares at him for a long moment (Oh god I blew it, Orpheus thinks), before she snorts and starts laughing, stifling herself to keep from disturbing the performers too much. Past his faint embarrassment, he can’t help but be mesmerized. The way her face lit up—the sound of her laugh. It’s…

“Tell you what.” She waves her fork at him. “You’re a composition major, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about, scratch whatever folk song you were gonna do. I want you—“ she points her fork at him, “to get up there—“ she points to the stage, “and sing me your best. Then I’ll think about it.”

Orpheus freezes. “But it isn’t finished.”

Eurydice smirks, raising her drink to her lips. “You wanna take me home?”

“Yes.”

She looks at him over the lip of the glass. “Sing the song,” she beckons, and takes a sip just as the kids finish their set.

Oh, god.

He’s so glad there isn’t a written setlist.

Stiffly, he stands up. His guitar bumps against his side as he gets up onstage, a hello, a greeting. The spotlights are on him. Their eyes are on him. Even the hushed murmur has quieted—Orpheus is almost sick. They’re expectant, all of them; everybody wants to hear the so-called prodigy strum his lyre, but his keel got knocked over last minute and he’s not so sure anymore.

He catches Eurydice’s eye.

Okay.

He tunes his guitar and starts to play.

The music is lovely. The lyrics are just a story about a king, but the poetry is beautiful, and the way he sings is captivating. She’s enraptured. Every lilt, every phrase, all his diction and punctuation. Soft, but not watery, and loud, but not punchy; it’s clear and high and ethereal, almost floating, fluttery. The guitar he accompanies himself with is no less enthralling. It’s a singer too.

And then—

A swell of sound, and then he’s singing nothing but la, la la la, la la la, harmonized with himself threefold on the loop pedal , and—Eurydice’s not sure how because the bar doesn’t even have any proper acoustics. But she swears his voice and guitar notes are falling down from every point in the ceiling. The sound rolls off of the walls and glides across the tabletops, rivers of gold in the air, and the whole bar is stunned into silence as Orpheus sings them what she can’t help but call an epic.

La, la la la, la la.

Holy shit.

Orpheus trails off. He stiffens when he realizes that every single one of the patrons is staring at him in raptured silence. The apologies start coming: “It’s a work in progress,” he stammers, “I’m not done with it yet…”

Work in progress. Holy shit.

A drunk man starts whooping before Orpheus can stew in the silence for too long, and the bar roars with applause. He flushes deeply, surprised and flattered, says “thank you for listening” into the mic and steps offstage.

Hermes comes over and slaps him on the back before he sits down. “Nice job, son.”

Orpheus, twig that he is, tries (and fails) to pretend that he didn’t just get the wind knocked out of him. “Thanks,” he wheezes.

That night, Orpheus takes her home, both of them a little tipsy and a hundred percent giddy. He shows her the hundreds of plants that litter his apartment (“Persephone gives them all to me, I can’t say no”) and the weird instruments that he keeps (“Orpheus, what the fuck is a crumhorn?”). He shows her his songs. He plays them all for her, from worn sheet music that’s crowded with pencilled annotations, filled with notes and warnings to himself, odd lines and marks that only he really gets. She listens to him talk about them all, about the meaning of every chord progression and suspension—and the forty-eight minute concerto he wrote for his final. She tells him stories about the hundreds of eccentric coworkers she’s worked with over her life. She’d gone to work right out of high school. All she’d ever known was how to hold her own, she tells him, and his face softens as he takes her hand and tells her that she doesn’t have to, that he’ll help any way he can. She nods and says “Alright,” then launches into how much it sucks to work in retail. He laughs loud; she laughs louder.

They talk long, long into the night, and even though she lives right in the apartment below him, it doesn’t quite feel like home when she has to leave.

#my work #apartments au #hadestown #hadestown au #Anonymous #ugh the breaks dont show up on mobile #i WILL kill tumblr w my hands #and MANY many thanks for @s-aint-elmo my dear friend for inspiring this in the first place #i'd actually had this idea long before this ask thanks to them

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kvndeathmusic · 4 years

Text

my favorite records of the 2010s pt 1 (the less great stuff/honorable mentions)

Neither this post or its followup are going to be in any particular order, however all the records I talk about here are, in my opinion, not as good as the records i will talk about in my part 2. they’re all fantastic but these ones slightly a little less fantastic than the ones in my “top 10″. none of this is based on stuff like 'influence' or whatever other critics base their lists on, this is solely how much I enjoyed these records. And keep in mind, I'm only human, I havent listened to a good lot of records I've heard others describe as top 10 worthy, these are just records I found and that I resonate with. long post ahead.

Vacation - Bomb the Music Industry (2011)

If you asked me what my favorite band is i will either say bomb the music industry or jeff rosenstock, but considering those are pretty much the same things it doesnt matter lol. While Vacation isnt a perfect record, it is one I love. It lacks some of the ska elements that I love about earlier BTMI records, but at the same time, it is the first record where Jeff’s “””solo””” career sound starts to form in tracks like Sick, Later, Hurricane Waves, Everybody That You Love, Everybody That Loves You, and Vocal Coach. And these tracks are all fantastic, especially the absolutely explosive opener Campaign For a Better Weekend. Where this album suffers in my mind is the fact that it exists as a weird hybrid middle ground between BTMI and modern Jeff Rosenstock, it isn’t really ska like old BTMI and it’s not quite to the same standard as the tracks on We Cool?. And some of the songs are just, not as good as the others, like Why, Oh Why, Oh Why (Oh Oh Oh Oh), which is washed out almost entirely in reverb, and tracks like Savers feeling barren and missing additional instrumentation. But fuck man I can not dislike this record or just call it “ok” because despite this I still listen to this record a lot, it’s so catchy and fun and Im a bit too chronically addicted to btmi.

Reflektor - Arcade Fire (2013)

i dont really get the hate/mixed feelings others have with this record. there’s so many good tracks dude!!!! sure theres a bit of a slump in the middle and it doesnt reach the same emotional heights as their previous records you gotta be ignorant to overlook this records strengths. while i do like The Suburbs more than Reflektor, man i just vibe HARD with some of these tracks; the title track, We Exist, Here Comes The Night Time, Normal Person, Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice), Porno, and ESPECIALLY Afterlife. Plus the cover art is cool and I like it. However Flashbulb Eyes is one of the worst tracks Arcade Fire has ever put out and I hate it immensely. And while far less offensive, tracks like You Already Know, It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus), and Joan of Arc are just kinda boring and/or uninteresting. Now granted, I'm extremely biased when it comes to Arcade fire in general unless were talking about the trainwreck that is Everything Now. I started listening to Arcade Fire just before Reflektor came out, and I have a kinda sentimental attachment to the record. ill explain the feeling more when i talk about The Suburbs. anticipation oooooo.

good kid m.A.A.d city - Kendrick Lamar (2012)

i might get crucified by some for not putting this in my top 10, but whatever come at me i guess. gkmc is a fantastic record, but i do think the ending is weak, which is why it’s here instead of in the top 10. i mean, let’s be real, Real is a mediocre track, and while Dying of Thirst is an important track to the whole narrative of the record, it feels way too long. almost everything else about this record is fantastic, from the beats, to kendrick’s nasally flows, to the overall structure of the record spinning a tale of a young man battling demons both inside and out, and his eventual redemption. even if i find this record at times to drop pace, it really is flawless otherwise. it felt like a disservice to put this in the 20-10s, bc it’s a good record, but i had to make some compromises and this was one of them.

RTJ2 - Run The Jewels (2014)

el-p and killer mike are a perfect duo, and the tracks they make together are always total bangers. and for me, RTJ2 is the best overall, with RTJ3 in a close second. it’s hard to put this on the lower half of the list, some of the tracks just don’t work as well as the others, but despite that there’s not really any tracks i hate or dislike on this record, minus maybe crown. the pure aggression in the opening track Jeopardy sets the tone for an aggressive yet highly focused record. This is some of the best rap out there right now if you want some music to fuck shit up to.

Pure Comedy - Father John Misty (2017)

This record is both hilarious and extremely bleak. Josh Tillman is a master of satire and sarcasm, and Pure Comedy is the peak of his songwriting skills. The title track is one of the best tracks of the decade, period. And he keeps up the momentum on the following few tracks. The main problem with this record is its weaker second half, but even then it’s criminal to suggest that those songs aren’t good regardless. And despite the bleakness, the one line that sticks in my head after all this time is the line this album fades out to: There’s nothing to fear.

Knife Man - AJJ (2011)

Continuing on the trend of folky, satirical, and bleak records, Knife Man is AJJ’s defining record (next to their debut LP). AJJ blends loud, punky anthems with quieter, folk tracks that touch on sensitive issues in a way only AJJ manages to get away with. And there’s some genuine heart mixed in as well, with the final track Big Bird always striking a chord with me. However, I do feel the record is, let’s just say, padded at times in my opinion. Still, I can’t deny how much i enjoy tracks like Gift of the Magi 2, Hate Rain on Me, The Distance, and Skate Park. Speaking of which when I saw AJJ live recently they played none of those songs and that kinda sucked but hey it was like $20 I can’t complain. And speaking of not getting what I wanted...

You Won’t Get What You Want - Daughters (2018)

It was hard choosing between this record and their 2010 self titled record, but in terms of the overall narrative and variety this record shines through. If there was a number 11 spot in this unorganized list this would probably take that spot. It’s noisey, it’s abrasive, and it’s like nothing you’ve heard before unless you’ve listened to Daughter’s previous records. Tracks like The Reason They Hate Me are catchy in the weirdest and most unwelcoming of ways, Less Sex sounds like a long lost Trent Reznor NIN track, and Guest House is a masochistic and gut wrenching finisher. Fantastic record aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

We Cool? - Jeff Rosenstock (2015)

It’s obvious that I had to include this record somewhere on these list. It’s like a more refined version of the sounds that Jeff experimented with on Vacation. Definitely more punk than ska, but still some of those roots still shine through, especially in the track Nausea. Some of Jeff’s best songs are on this record, from the loud opening tracks Get Old Forever and You, In Weird Cities, to tracks dripping with bittersweet and moody lyrics like I’m Serious, I’m Sorry and Polar Bear or Africa. The main reason this record is on the back end of the top 20 is because the deeper cuts on the record do not match the energy and heights of the best tracks. Tracks like All Blissed Out, The Lows, Darkness Records and Beers Again Alone don’t feel like they belong and stick out a bit. They remind me more of the material Jeff put out on his 2012 EP I Look Like Shit. Mind you they aren’t bad tracks, but I’ll be honest I skip them often when listening to the record because i just wanna get back to the good good stuff.

Sports - Modern Baseball (2012)

Sports is one of the best pop punk records ever, if you can even consider it as such. It’s like a blend of emo and folk punk, and it works so well. A good majority of this record is on my main shuffle playlist. Is it pushing boundaries? Not really, but tracks like Re-Do, Tears Over Beers, and See Ya, Sucker are undeniably catchy and memorable. I NEED MODERN BASEBALL BACK TOGETHER RN. There’s not really anything that wrong with the record, besides maybe lacking in variety, but at 30 minutes, it’s a record that feels nostalgic even on a first listen, and continues to feel that way even after numerous re-listens. Speaking of nostalgia...

The Suburbs - Arcade Fire (2010)

Some background, when I was 13 (circa 2013), I only really listened to whatever my parents put on for me. From my mom, I “inherited” a taste for classic pop and 80s new wave. From my dad, I got metal and hard rock. The first time I made the conscious decision to listen to a record fully, based on my own curiousity, was when I sat and listened to Sgt. Pepper in the summer of 2013, which broadened the scope of what I thought music could even be. And later that year, the first band I got into after The Beatles? Arcade Fire. When I think of my early teens, the memories are set to this record. I remember listening to Ready to Start in my brother’s old hot ass car while driving to the local fair with some friends on a chill fall night, eating tons of junk and staying up past midnight back when doing that was edgy and cool and not a symptom of my depression.

If I was judging this record solely by its best tracks, it would easily be in the top 3. But I couldn’t place it in my top 10 because, frankly, some of the deeper cuts are lacking. I can’t say I like Deep Blue. I really don’t like Rococo. And Half Light I kills the pace of the record. But man, that title track, Ready to Start, Modern Man, Empty Room, Half Light II, Sprawl II... these songs defined my early teen years. I still tear up listening to the title track. Sure I have to skip a few songs when I re-listen, but I can’t place it any lower or my heart will break. It existing outside of the top 10 already hurts. And that’s all that’s left now. The top 10.

But first, some random honorable mentions that didn’t make this list:

Sound & Color - Alabama Shakes

Black Star - David Bowie

Saturation II - BROCKHAMPTON

Melophobia - Cage the Elephant

Teens of Style - Car Seat Headrest

How to Leave Town - Car Seat Headrest

Daughters - Daughters

Sunbather - Deafheaven

Bottomless Pit - Death Grips

Year of the Snitch - Death Grips (should be on this list tbh)

Doris - Earl Sweatshirt

I Love You, Honeybear - Father John Misty

Helplessness Blues - Fleet Foxes

Plastic Beach - Gorillaz

Boarding House Reach - Jack White

POST- - Jeff Rosenstock

S/T - Joyce Manor

Firepower - Judas Priest

ye - Kanye West

KIDS SEE GHOSTS - KSG

You Were There - Kill Lincoln

Flying Microtonal Banana - King Gizzard

Infest The Rats’ Nest - King Gizzard

No New World - Mass of the Fermenting Dregs

Bury Me At Makeout Creek - Mitski

Puberty 2 - Mitski

Unsilent Death - Nails

Itekoma Hits - Otoboke Beaver

Morbid Stuff - PUP

A Moon Shaped Pool - Radiohead

RTJ3 - Run the Jewels

Angles - The Strokes

To Be Kind - Swans

Undertale OST - Toby Fox

Scum Fuck Flower Boy - Tyler, The Creator

Igor - Tyler, The Creator

Weezer (White Album) - Weezer

nightlife - yuragi

#music #2010s

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dolphin-bouillabaisse · 5 years

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GO-ctober Prompt, 21

Inktober except without the ink, and with drabbles instead.

Prompt #21 - Treasure

(previous | next | beginning)

(find it all on Ao3)

(I’m finally back on track, FUCKING HELL. Hooray. No more skipping prompts until the month is over now. Haha. I hope.)

London had been burning for five days, smouldering in its ashes for three more. People had died, many more had been made homeless, most of them were enraged, in despair, in mourning.

A demon would have had a field day, toying with their emotions, stoking the internal fire much as he would've stoked the real one days before.

Crowley cared for none of it.

He'd barely made it out of the flames himself, running wild in the streets, shooing children and yelling, looking. Searching.

He was still searching now, scanning his eyes across one of the many gathering places where people had put down blankets, small baskets, whatever they'd been able to salvage from the fires or carry out from them.

Their emotions were overpowering. Hundreds, thousands, swarming around his head, screaming into him and pulling on the more infernal bits of him, filling his senses so much-

He couldn't sense him. Hadn't for days. All he could do was look, and search, and hope.

A flurry of golden white hair, at the far back, half hidden behind a wall. He stumbled towards it, almost knocking over a little girl running past him, pushing aside the young man taking notes from one of the survivor's tales.

“Aziraphale?” It could be, or it couldn't – he wasn't the only fair-haired man in London, they hadn't seen each other for quite some time, all he knew was that he was still taking up residence in London somewhere, and there wasn't much but hope left in him to give after the past few days of searching.

The golden white hair turned, and his heart jumped at the sight of the so familiar face, even without its usual kind smile.

“Angel.” He half knelt down beside him. “I've been looking for you.” “Crowley.” A quiet voice to match his own. “I didn't know you were in London.” He sounded absent-minded, joyless. The rush of human emotion around them must've taken its toll with him as well. Crowley couldn't imagine how it must feel for an angel. He'd seen it worse before, the many disasters they'd witnessed, the few times it had moved the angel almost to tears. “Was this your side's doing?”

“Certainly not mine.” Crowley mumbled. To be fair, he didn't know – he hadn't heard of any such assignments, hadn't been given a warning to stay out of the city either, but you could never be quite sure. He remembered back to seeing the flames, feeling their heat, begging and pleading for it not to be hellfire, not to consume the city, or... him.

“No, you wouldn't do such a thing. Not your style.” A smile finally broke on Aziraphale's face, albeit a more joking one than usual. He'd not blamed this particular demon for any of the horrors they'd seen, not since Roman times. He knew him too well.

Crowley hated the fires, any of them. He'd seen what they could do far too often.

“Did you... get everything out?” His voice was still low, supposedly not to disturb the humans around them, to give them away, but maybe also because he didn't dare say too much. He'd seen Aziraphale lose everything before, in Pompeii, in Alexandria. He'd seen his reaction. He wished for it to never repeat.

“My books weren't in the city. They're with a dear friend, who has a bit more space than me to store them.”

“I see.” He wondered, for a split second, what human could have been so good as to earn the title of a dear friend with the angel, but that way laid worry and envy, and he'd done well in the past with stoking these down. He could already feel them creeping up his spine, spurned by the people around them who could hear, who were feeling the same, jealous of someone who had a quick chance at a new home.

He stood up instead, holding out a hand for Aziraphale to pull himself up.

“I can get you a horse, if you want. Get you to your friend's place.” Anything to help. Anything to get the angel out of the remnants of a great city, out of the mourning masses pulling him down.

Aziraphale had grabbed a small bag as they went on, an innocuous thing made of thick fabric, which Crowley recognised as not being anywhere from England, nor even this century. He didn't dare mention it until they were alone, down a quieter side street.

“What's all this, then? Some more books?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale's eyes fell down on the bag, pulling it close to his chest, almost protecting. “No. Nothing much. Just some things I could carry out.”

“Important things?”

“I suppose.”

The rest of their way was quiet. Crowley feared asking more, asking the wrong thing – he could scarcely read Aziraphale's face this time, usually so full of impressions, like an open book to him, ironically, as he didn't read much. Now it was barren, staring on the ground, even as they reached the little stable just outside city limits, where Crowley was owed several favours and called in almost all of them now.

“I lied.” He heard the whisper even between the clomping of hooves as he lead the horse he'd been handed towards the angel.

“You what?”

“I knew you were in London.” Aziraphale couldn't face him, and he didn't understand why.

“You didn't blame me for this, angel.”

“No. But.” A deep breath, a shaky hand clenching at his side. “I didn't look for you. I knew you were in the city, but I didn't-” Another deep breath before he could go on.

“I sensed you in the city, but then I didn't, I couldn't, there was so much and so many people with- I thought you'd left, or gone, or... I couldn't look for you. I was so-”

He stopped as his shaking hand was covered with another, warm even with its leather glove cover.

“It's fine.” Crowley's voice was soft, careful, as if speaking to a scared child, a spooked animal. “I found you in the end.”

“You always do.” Aziraphale laughed, glibly, more at himself than at anything else. “I'm sorry for being such a horrible friend.”

“Don't say that.” Crowley stopped him, but whether he meant the apology, the horrible part of it, or the friend part, he wasn't sure. He never quite was.

“I have to.” Aziraphale's look was steadfast now, pinned on Crowley, who was glad again for his spectacles hiding his own. “No one is going to hear this now, not with all the chaos and emotions and- the prayers around, the anger around. It's just us.”

He went to grab Crowley's hand, the one which had slowly drifted away from his own again.

“You're my dearest friend, Crowley, more than anyone else ever has been or ever will be. And for the past few days, I thought you were gone. I thought all I had left was this.”

He lifted the bag now, the soot-covered thing he'd gripped with all his might before, as if he would lose more than just material things if he were to let go. Pulled it open for all the world to see, but there was no one else to look at it but Crowley. Which, to him, was more than enough, more than the rest of the world would give him.

An oyster's shell laid nestled inside, small, fragile, yet kept perfectly unbroken for a over thousand years. A still blooming flower next to it, from a garden Crowley knew had fallen just as long ago, written about only in wonders and fairytales. A splinter of wood, glowing with holiness that burned in his eyes. A small goat's horn, polished to shine, stripped of the blood the sacrifice had left behind. A small wooden box, filled with potpourri that should've lost its scent decades ago. A necklace of pearls, simple yet beautiful, that had accidentally found its way into a painting hung somewhere in Italy, but had previously laid around the neck of a fiery-haired muse. A small scroll, short lines scribbled in a handwriting worse than his own, a poem he recognised in seconds from hearing it on stage.

Little talismans, tidbits, treasures. He knew each and every one. He'd seen them before. He'd been there. They had been there.

His eyes shot up to meet Aziraphale's, whose face was shining red like the desert sun they'd spent so many years under, yet he did not look away. His eyes said more than his mouth could have.

“Just...things to remember.” He whispered nonetheless. His look sunk down on the open bag. “I like to collect.”

“I know.” Crowley said, an empty answer, yet it said more, said everything he couldn't say. He knew Aziraphale. He knew them. Deep down, in a part of his soul he didn't dare look lest it overtook him completely, he'd always known.

Silence seemed to stretch between them forever. How could you break this? How could you end this moment, this realisation that they shared? He'd done it countless times before, but for this, for once, he couldn't. He wouldn't.

“What will you take from this meeting?” He whispered instead, and Aziraphale's eyes shot up again.

“Crowley-”

“Let me give you something instead.”

And he leant over before the angel could protest, play his usual spiel of avoidance. Made him unable to speak, and not only because his lips were sealed with Crowley's.

A small kiss, a soft meeting, warmth against warmth – until something shifted, or rather, someone. An angel that turned his head just so, closed his eyes, leant forward just a bit more to ask-?

A demon who gladly answered, heat against heat now, lips that parted and sighed and found each other again, and again. A tongue brushing against teeth, being pulled in by another, hot breath that ghosted over each other's cheek. Aziraphale's hand on his face, in his hair, holding on tight without grabbing, as if that was the treasure he'd take away from this meeting, as if Crowley was the thing he wanted to hold and put in his bag and never let go again-

They let go, after minutes, hours, days, not really ever. Barely an inch, red plump lips still touching at the faintest spots, foreheads pressed together. Aziraphale's eyes tightly shut, as if looking would cause it to vanish, as if he was Orpheus pulling his love out of the Underworld and not risking his chance this time around.

Crowley's eyes were open, had been, had taken in every little wonder he could have, knowing it would end soon enough, that it would have to become only a memory to revisit. Things would change, and go back to where they had been before the fire, before the chaos, and the small refuge it had offered them from their sides.

“Not something to carry, I'm afraid.”

“Oh, I'll carry it.” Aziraphale finally answered as his eyes opened, his hands sinking from Crowley's curls down to his own chest. “Carry it right here.”

Crowley couldn't help but laugh a little, a short burst of air, a pleased little noise as his head sank. The moment was over, and he knew it, they both knew it, but neither could let go just now. Aziraphale would take the horse any minute now, ride off to somewhere else, where Crowley could not follow without being seen, report to his superiors about the good deeds he had done to help the citizens of London during their troubles. Not mention how he got out of the city, not mention the few moments beforehand, never mention anything again. But right now they were still here, still standing close, still collecting it all for their memories, for Aziraphale's little bag of treasures over the millenia.

He felt hands in his hair again, softer, more careful, as if he would shy away otherwise. One more little kiss, pressed against the crown of his head, a deep inhale as Aziraphale savoured his scent, clear and fresh between all the stink of ash and dirt around them. A quiet whisper, even softer, even more careful.

“My greatest treasure.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #my writing #prompts #october prompts #first kiss #I guess? I dunno maybe they smooched before I kept it vague #anyway here's some more angsty fluff #my usual flavouring #this time in a historic setting

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erintoknow · 5 years

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Don’t Look Back

today will be my first day at my new job, but i finished one last fanfic short before i potentially drop off the earth (hopefully not!). Fallen Hero fanfic, ofc, inspired by that damn Ortega dinner test scene from a while back that absolutely didn’t make me cry, haha, why would you even suggest such a crazy thing? about ~1k words, btw.

i don’t know if this is nsfw or not. nothing like ‘sexy’ happens? but you’ve got two ladies in bed with each other, so nobody tell my mom.

------------

“I’m sorry.” You whisper into the room. It’s so dark in here, thank god. Shapes and colors reduced to the faintest suggestions. Shadows cast against the wall from somewhere else.

Her arms shift, pulling you closer against her. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” The words hit your chest like an ice dagger. Will you ever do something so evil as to match this? Laying in Julia’s arms, in Julia’s bed? “Hey,” she squeezes you, “hey, I thought we already cried ourselves out?”

You run your hand over her arm, up her shoulder, letting your fingertips pull at her skin. “I’m sorry we couldn’t…” go farther, you want to say, but don’t. Go all the way, you want to say, but won’t.

A hand rubs your cheek, “Oh, I think we made do just fine,” Julia’s voice is light and genuine, bringing a memory of hands on skin. You want to believe her, that this wasn’t a disappointment. “Next time I’ll be prepared. Now that I know what we’re working with,” her voice purrs and you feel a shiver run down your back. There is going to be a next time, then. Maybe even a third, if you’re lucky. You’ve stepped over the event horizon; no one but yourself threw you out of this window.

“Alright then, I’d… I’d like that.” you whisper, “thank you.”

“Your welcome?” Comes Julia’s bemused reply.

What’s one more fall, at this point?

“I was so lost,” you say suddenly, surprising yourself, “without you, or Anathema, Sentinel, all the rest… even Steel, I guess.”

“‘Even Steel’?” Julia asks, mirroring your fingers tracing her back, with her tracing yours.

“Every family needs a stick-in-the-mud I guess.” Neither of you laugh. “You all made me feel like… like I was… like I was a real person?” You choke, teetering on the edge of truth. “Human?”

“Of course you’re human Ari,” Julia retorts, her ignorance another stab of pain to your heart. Then adds after a second, her voice soft again she says, “you were my best friend.”

You shift position so you can kiss her, it takes a trial run in the dark, tasting salt, before you find her lips. It doesn’t last long enough.

“You were all such… extraordinary, amazing people. You made me want to be special too. To… to do something more with this… power I had then petty theft or…” You don’t have the courage to finish that sentence, instead weaving your legs between Julia’s, a hug of knees. “And I wanted you to notice me. To… really see me, like how I saw you.”

“Ari…” Julia laughs, but it has a bitter edge to it. “How did neither one of us say anything?”

“And then…” You pull yourself as close as you can, until your ear is pressing against her chest, until you can hear her heartbeat. “They took me away.” Your voice strains, it’s like the words themselves hurt your throat. “They took me away and no one ever came to get me. You never came.”

“Ari…” Julia’s voice is pained as she wraps her arms around your back.

“I thought you all had– had thrown me away. So I told myself I hated you too.”

You can feel the electric charge from Julia’s mods raising the hairs on the back of your neck. “If I had known, Ari, I swear–“

You cut her off. “So I did what I had to do. To survive. Just like before. Whatever it took. Whatever it cost.” You dig your nails into Julia’s back, one finger tracing a too-familiar pattern from memory. “Then one day, I… got lucky. I got out again. But… some years had passed and everything had changed. I– I had changed.”

“Just who are these people, Ariadne?”

You suck in your breath, feel the familiar static of Julia’s thoughts, forever unknown to you. Already you’re regretting your honesty. You’re just going to ruin your own revenge, or worse, get Julia killed. “I told you already Julia. You can’t save me. You can’t save the dead. This isn’t something you can just… punch and make better.” She doesn’t need to know about your own plan, not yet. Not tonight. “Ariadne died in that apartment, right alongside Anathema. Julia… I don’t know who I am now.” You laugh, feeling hollow, grateful it’s too dark for her to see your face . “A ghost, maybe?

Julia’s heartbeat is pounding in your ear, her arms pressing against you as if she can somehow squeeze the negative emotion out of you. “You’re not a ghost, Ari.”

“Yes, I am.” Your reply is sharp, immediate. “I’m not real, Julia.” You’re not crying again. You’ve already had enough tonight. It’s not happening again. It isn’t.

“You are.” Julia repeats forcefully, squeezing you a little for emphasis. “What… parts you were born with doesn’t matter. You are a real woman, Ari.”

You sigh, frustration and fear mounting, how is it not obvious? “You don’t–“ you want to clarify but now your courage is failing you again. That’s what? The third time this night? It’s not like ‘cowardice’ wasn’t already on your list of sins. “…thank you.”

“Can you…” Julia’s speech is slow, deliberate, as if she’s terrified of what the answer will be, and that alone gets you attention. “ Can you ever forgive me? For not coming?”

You don’t respond at first, instead you trace your fingers up the back of Julia’s spine, feeling the scars, the outlines of metal, the years of work both man-made and natural that went into this woman beside you. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” You lean in, kiss her shoulder before moving up to her neck. “You pulled me out of that grave, Julia Ortega, my very own Orpheus.”

Maybe it’s not the answer she’s hoping for, but it’s the only answer you have.

———

In the dark, in the aftermath as you contemplate the safest way to get dressed again, a soft voice pokes through the machine-quiet, thrumming from the chest underneath you. You shift position, looking up at the shadow of her face. “Julia? Are you… singing?” You whisper. Julia doesn’t respond but you can feel her head nod on the bed. You let yourself close your eyes and listen for a moment, and then– “oh, no, no, stop. Stop, Julia, you’re terrible at this.”

Julia laughs and you find yourself laughing along with her. “Well then,” she shifts a hand free from under you, running it through your uncombed hair, straightening out the knots. “You going to show me how it’s done?”

You freeze for a moment, paralyzed with fear, a sinking dread of the void you know is coming to swallow you whole. Then Julia’s hand strokes your hair again, and at least for a second you feel anchored. Real again. “Okay,” you whisper, “just this once.”

#fallen hero #fallen hero fanfic #fanfiction #fhr #fhr/Ariadne #julia ortega #chargestep #orpheus and eurydice #gay disasters #wlw fanfic #fallen hero: rebirth #trans character

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sandersgrey · 6 years

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Roses and Notes

AU in which Persephone is Patton, Hades is Logan, Orpheus is Roman and Virgil is Eurydice. In which Roman realizes what he lost.

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Bonus. Part ten is here. Part eleven.

Word count: 1,531

Ao3 link: here.

@ab-artist @thewritingasexual @astral-eclipse

There's no one in home and Roman isn't even surprised.

Why would he be? He has felt this coming for a long time. Virgil knows. He knows about how Roman's heart belongs to someone else. The singer had hoped it had been clear enough that his heart belonged to Virgil first and just as much. But that hadn't been enough, of course it hadn't, and Roman couldn't blame Virgil for that. He had the right to want someone who wouldn't be daydreaming about someone else. He deserved it.

(Roman ignores the way his heart breaks and shatters and falls to the ground like pieces of something that might have been valuable long ago.)

And then he sees the blue roses on their bed and his broken heart stops.

Because it isn't stepped on. It isn't dirty or crushed or anything less of the perfection in which Roman had found them. (And how did Virgil find them? He thought he had hidden them well enough. He couldn't throw them away, and hadn't wanted to hurt Virgil's feelings- ha, look at him now- so he had hidden it and hidden it well. But it didn't really matter, did it?) They are just there, as if his lover had just found them and put them carefully in a place where Roman couldn't miss them. And then there is a note in the inside of the flower crown.

He takes it with careful, if trembling, fingers.

It says sorry. It talks about happiness Virgil thought he couldn't give. It talks about love, so much love and devotion that Roman could feel himself shaking, the broken pieces of his heart ready to burst. And it says Virgil was- oh.

Oh.

Roman should have known. He should have seen Virgil's insecurities before this mess, should have sat beside him and talked, actually talked about how he felt like he could float a few inches above the ground everytime Virgil smiled, how the fact that Patton's smile had made him feel invencible didn't change it, how he couldn't believe how lucky he was for being with someone like his Virgil. He should have. He didn't and now his beautiful lover had ran away thinking Roman would be happier without him. (As if happiness without Virgil's eyes would ever be anything like the one he used to feel.)

He would have let him go if he thought Virgil would be happier without him. But Roman couldn't let him go on thinking that he was anything less than the best thing that ever happened to him.

"Virgil?", he tucks the note in a pocket and almost runs outside. "Virgil! Where are you?"

He sprints through the forest he has come to know as well as his home, shouting the name of his lover, trying to figure out where he could be. It was easy to rule out any place that would mean anything to Roman. He wouldn't have wanted to "taint" that. But then where? "Virgil! Please! Come back!", he shouts into the quiet forest.

"Oh, here are you, the great artist. He's not here anymore."

Roman turns around and there was that worker that stuck around for longer than most. Had he ever given his name? That's strange, now that he thinks about it, how the presence of that man had always made his blood boil with adrenaline, as if he could run a hundred of miles in a day.

"What do you mean? Where is he?"

"Do you even care?", the worker says, voice colder than Roman had ever heard. "You'll find another muse somewhere."

"Where is he? Please..."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Wherever he is, is where I'll go", Roman says. He owes this to Virgil- to explain, to tell him, at the very least. He wants him back.

The worker analyses him, frowning. He lets the seconds pass while Roman squirms. Would Virgil even welcome him? Or would he be angry- no, he can't think like this. He can't let fear make him hurt more his lover. Virgil deserves better than this. (He deserves better than him, too, of course, but that is a given.)

"And what if I tell you he's down below?"

"What?"

"Down below. 'Six feet under the ground', below."

"He's dead?!", Roman cries out. No. This can't be. This can't be the end, not like this. He can feel his blood freezing in his veins, his heart shattering and shattering and shattering until he can only wonder if it'll ever be healed again, if he even deserves it to be. Virgil. His Virgil, what happened?

"More or less?"

"What do you mean?"

You're either dead or you aren't. Virgil is either dead, or he's not. (Gods, Roman hopes he's not. Please. Please, let him be alive. Let him be safe and sound and healthy.)

"The king of the Underworld pitied him", the worker says. He sees Roman's eyes widening and quickly adds. "He didn't know Virgil was yours, even though Patton has told him now. Didn't even ask his name. Logan has always been forgetful."

"You- him- what?"

Trying to push away the fear that the god would come after him for falling in love for his husband (what could he even do? What could he take that would be more precious than Virgil, what could he do that would be more painful than this? Roman wants to cry, wants to scream and beg for Virgil to come back, but it won't help anyone. Not now), he has other questions to ask.

"Why do you- why do you call the king by his name? Why did he take Virgil if he didn't know- if it wasn't to punish me?"

"Oh, I'd guess he felt bad for the kid. He was in a bad shape, after all. I saw the king giving him food, offering him a choice. He didn't just take him. Virgil came with him willingly."

"What?"

He has never- Virgil wouldn't- Virgil was better than him, wasn't he? Except that- he left. Technically, they weren't a couple anymore. He could do anything he wanted now. (Still, it hurt- he didn't want to think about it, about Virgil in the arms of someone else. Roman had thought about them and Patton, but that had been different. He knew Patton. He loved him. And he knew that couldn't be, that Virgil would never agree. It had been daydreams even he realized were delusional.)

"Not like that", the worker says. "Virgil said you'd be happier without him. Logan offered food, shelter, company. Why wouldn't he accept?"

Why wouldn't he, indeed, when Roman had been so bad as a lover that Virgil thought he would be happier without him? He thought his heart couldn't break more. He was wrong. It feels like Roman is drowning, no sunlight to tell him where to swim, something weighting him down, down, down, and he thinks briefly about letting it before realizing it would just confirm Virgil's fears if he didn't even try to bring him back. (Roman doesn't want to come back to their small house. Doesn't want to see how big it would feel with only one person left.)

"Is he dead or not?"

"Not really. I'd think yes, technically, but Logan didn't just kill him and call it a day. He's softer than most people think", a smile tugs at the corner of the worker's lips. "No, he turned Virgil in a spirit, a kind of nymph, but tied to the Underworld and still with a physical form."

"Could I bring him back?"

"Why do you want to?"

"I love him. I cannot-", Roman stops, breathes, tries to ignore the tears streaming down his face. "I cannot let him go thinking I would ever be happier without him."

The worker thinks, for a moment, his expression carefully neutral. Then he nods. "Maybe you could. I'd say no, for most people, but Patton likes you. He might help, and Logan has always had more than a soft spot for him."

"Why are you telling me all of this? You still didn't answer why you call him by his name."

"Oh, I'm an old friend of Patton. I think he'll be upset if you two stay separated forever. He's always been- soft, about these things, I'd say. And young Virgil was nice enough to me. I'm not doing this for you", the worker shrugged. He smiled, then, something dangerous about it. "Patton asked me to tell you how to get to the Underworld. He wants you to be as safe as possible. And about Logan's name- I'm not afraid of him."

There was something about that man that reminded Roman of wild horses and the wings of birds and that feeling of freedom he always felt when stepping in a road. He wanted to- to cry, still, to scream at the sky or the ground, but he felt like if he tried to run, he could have flied. It felt intoxicating. Wasn't something new. He wonders how he had never noticed before.

"Who- Who are you?"

"God of roads, of paths, of messages", he grins. "I'm Emile. It's good to finally meet you properly, singer."

#alex wont shut up #my writing #hadestown au #part ten #roses and notes #thomas sanders #sanders sides #emile picani #roman sanders #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #royality #romantic royality

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elleberquist6 · 5 years

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Play Upon Me Like This Piano - chapter thirty-three

Summary: In many ways, Phil’s life is perfect: he loves his life in London, he has a wonderful brother and parents, and he has a great job as a radio DJ for BBC Radio One. There’s only one thing missing in his life… A rumor reaches an executive at the BBC about a talented local piano player named Daniel. The executive decides that Daniel would be the perfect guest on Phil’s radio show, so she sends Phil to speak with the evasive and mysterious piano player.

When they finally meet, Phil starts to think that he has found the person who will make his life complete. Unfortunately, Dan has a secret that will make getting close to him difficult.

Rating: Mature

Word Count:1763

Warnings: Smut

—

Siren fact: Siren, in Greek mythology, a creature half bird and half woman who lured sailors to destruction by the sweetness of her song. According to Homer there were two Sirens on an island in the western sea between Aeaea and the rocks of Scylla… In Homer’s Odyssey, Book XII, the Greek hero Odysseus, advised by the sorceress Circe, escaped the danger of their song by stopping the ears of his crew with wax so that they were deaf to the Sirens. Odysseus himself wanted to hear their song but had himself tied to the mast so that he would not be able to steer the ship off its course. Apollonius of Rhodes, in Argonautica, Book IV, relates that when the Argonauts sailed that way, Orpheus sang so divinely that only one of the Argonauts heard the Sirens’ song. According to Argonautica, Butes alone was compelled by the Sirens’ voices to jump into the water. [https://www.britannica.com/topic/Siren-Greek-mythology/]

After coming home from the train station to sleep in Phil’s bed, Phil had gone to work that morning, leaving Dan alone with some time to think. Dan decided to go home, feeling safe to do so now that the police had caught his stalker. Then he had called his boss to tell him that he was available to work tomorrow night. He had practiced a song on his keyboard, deciding that he wasn’t too rusty to perform.

Once all of that had been settled, he had nothing else to help him procrastinate away from what was really important: Phil was coming to the performance tomorrow night. Dan wasn’t regretting the fact that he had asked Phil to come to the show. He knew that Phil needed to see this. It was just that Dan now had to accept what was going to happen when Phil saw this. It was all going to be over soon.

After he got off work, Phil came over to Dan’s apartment, carrying a bag of Thai food. They ate and if he noticed that anything was off with Dan, he didn’t comment. Then Dan took Phil to bed, and ran his hands over his body, memorizing every inch of his skin. If this was going to be the last night, then Dan would soak in every second of it. He fell asleep entwined in Phil’s limbs, unsure where his body ended and Phil’s began.

The next morning, Dan woke first and he felt the same impulse he had felt last night, on the last night because now it was the last morning and he had to commit every moment with Phil to memory because he would never have this again after tonight. The sun was coming through the curtains, and all he could do was stare at the way Phil’s face was glowing in the light. Dan wanted to spend the rest of his life staring at this face, but once Phil saw him perform he knew that Phil wouldn’t want him anymore.

Dan had to take several deep breaths to stop himself from crying, not wanting his eyes to be red-rimmed when Phil saw him. He wanted this last morning to be perfect for Phil, too. After regaining his composure, Dan slipped out of bed. He made his way to the kitchen, where he pulled the milk and eggs he needed to make pancakes from the fridge. He worked quietly, wanting Phil to be awakened by the scent to cooking batter, not clattering bowls and pans.

By the time he was flipping the last batch of pancakes in the pan, Phil appeared in the doorway, wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. Dan smiled as Phil homed in on the plate of pancakes and looked ready to drool. He asked, “What’s this for? Oh my gosh…”

Dan just shrugged in answer. He didn’t feel up to making much conversation, afraid he would start talking and his tongue would keep going and he would soon be spilling how anxious and terrified and devastated he already felt about what was to come tonight, and then he would be crying and… and so he just shut up. He shoved a forkful of pancakes in his mouth and just made a sound of agreement whenever Phil mentioned something. Luckily, Phil was preoccupied with his breakfast, so he didn’t say much.

By the time they were putting their empty plates in the kitchen sink, and Phil had dressed to go to work, Dan’s tongue couldn’t hold back words anymore. He spoke slowly and carefully, not wanting to accidentally let too much slip, “Phil, um, about tonight…”

He turned away from the door, his ocean eyes bright. “Yeah? I’m still coming to see you sing, right?”

Dan nodded, and then he couldn’t help it – he walked up and wrapped his arms around Phil, holding him tight like it might be the last time. With his face pressed against Phil’s neck, he said, “I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me anymore after tonight.”

“What?” When Dan didn’t explain, Phil put his hands on Dan’s shoulders and pushed him back so that he could see his face. “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said, and then went to the door to hold it open for Phil.

Phil frowned. “You’re not going to tell me what that was about? You just expect me to leave after that?”

Dan nodded, and then said what he knew he had to say to get Phil to leave. “Please.”

Then Phil left without another word.

On his way to work, Dan found himself frozen in place on the sidewalk, staring at an abandoned building. The broken glass had been swept off the sidewalk and the missing window at the front of the drycleaner’s had been boarded up. He wondered what would have happened if that window had been boarded up earlier, on that terrifying night when he was running for his life. If he hadn’t been able to hide in there, would he be dead right now?

“Dan?”

Dan jumped and whirled around. His hand was on his chest, clutching his racing heart. Then his frantic eyes settled on a familiar face. “Robert?”

“Hey, it’s been a while!” Then Robert noticed Dan’s hand on his chest. “Jeez man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you and scare you.”

“It’s okay.” He glanced back to the building, not knowing how to explain. It hadn’t been Robert’s fault that he jumped out of his skin – it was this place and the way it conjured up memories of that awful night.

Robert stepped into place at his side, also looking up at the empty building. “Is this the place?” He whispered, not needing Dan to explain why he had been so startled. “I heard that you hid in somewhere near the bar when that guy tried to grab you.”

Dan nodded and swallowed heavily, remembering when he climbed into the wardrobe in the drycleaner’s too scared to even breathe in case the sound betrayed where he was hiding. Suddenly, Robert wrapped Dan in a tight hug, and Dan realized that he had been holding his breath again as he gasped in surprise at the hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Robert said as he squeezed him tighter. Before Dan could respond, the hug was over and Robert released him, but he looked at Dan with an awkward smile on his face and nodded in the direction of the bar. “I guess we should get going before we’re late for work?”

Dan nodded and they started walking side-by-side down the sidewalk, as Dan bit his bottom lip, contemplating how to fill the silence. Finally, he asked, “How has the bar been while I was out?”

“A bit boring. Not as many people have been coming in to watch the entertainment. So, the crowds have been small.” Robert shrugged, and then glanced at Dan. “Are you going to be alright to perform tonight? Like, I don’t mean to make you anxious, but that would freak me out… knowing that someone who watched me perform wanted to hurt me. I know that asshole has been caught, but, um, it would probably take me some time to get the courage to get back on the stage. Dan, you’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”

“Oh,” Dan thought about it, feeling some anxiety stir at these thoughts. He hadn’t considered any of this, not thinking about the other people who would hear him sing tonight because tonight’s performance was all about Phil. But would someone else hear him sing and try to hurt him? He couldn’t think about that now. He had to do this. So, he shook his head in answer to Robert’s question and said, “I think it will be alright.”

Robert bumped his shoulder against Dan’s. “It will. You’re going to be safe. Johnathan says he’s going to keep an eye out for creeps paying too much attention to you. And if you don’t feel safe walking home, I can drive you. I’ll give you a ride tonight if you need it.”

Dan started to open his mouth to say that he would be leaving with Phil tonight, but then he remembered that Phil might not want to see him after this, so he nodded. “Thank you.”

As Robert held open the door of the bar for him, he glanced at Dan’s face and his brows furrowed in concern. They stepped into the empty, and he waited until they were nearing the back room to ask, “Are you alright, Dan? Um, I’m sorry, man. I probably made things worse by bringing up that stuff about other creeps, but I just wanted to tell you that stuff about how John and I are going to be looking out for you. You know, in case that stuff was already on your mind and you were nervous.”

Dan nodded. “I know. Thanks. It’s nothing.”

Robert stopped walking and faced him, his expression still twisted with worry. “Is something else bothering you? Is it something to do with Phil? You guys alright?”

Not expecting Robert to mention the thing that was actually bothering him, all Dan could do was shrug. He said, “We’re good. He’s actually coming to see me perform tonight. And, um, it’s the first time he’s going to see that since we started dating, and I want him to see this but I’m also scared. I don’t know…”

Robert nodded, understanding enough that he didn’t need to press Dan further. He said, “It will be alright.”

#phandom #phanfiction #phanfic #dan and phil #dan x phil #mermaid #merman #siren

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thegoodgayshit · 3 years

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Chapter Sixteen: A Talking Water Fountain Offers Us Some Guidance

Luz filled in her friends on what she’d seen as quick as she could, and by the time she’d finished, Willow and Gus were pale, and Amity looked like she was going to be sick.

“That’s how those heroes have come back from the dead,” she concluded, and Luz nodded meekly, feeling smaller than she’d ever had before.

Luz was a confident person, but even she had no idea how they could stop literal undead Greek heroes from the past. They were just four teenagers. Luz couldn’t even drive yet. How were they supposed to destroy a literal portal to the afterlife? Her Mami had taken her to Catholic Church her entire life, she was still trying to wrap her head around god not being real, never mind the whole Greek Underworld existing as a whole.

“There’s no use worrying about it right now,” Willow tried, sensing everyone’s tension. “We should take a break and prepare for our next move, one step at a time.”

Luz nodded, eager to change the subject. “I’m definitely ok with not talking about this right now. My head hurts just thinking about it.”

“Then I’m going to shower,” Amity said getting to her feet. Luz nodded, shoveling a few grapes into her mouth. She swallowed, then called out after Amity as she opened one of the doors (that definitely hadn’t been there when they walked in).

“The three of us can gather up supplies for the rest of the quest while you do.”

Amity shot her a half-smile before she disappeared behind the door. Gus got up and took his dish to the sink, dropping them in and heading over to the desk where he began skimming through papers. Willow picked up a cracker and hummed under her breath, and Luz looked up at the sound. She was giving Luz a look that was almost too nonchalant to seem normal.

“You and Amity seem to be getting along a lot better now than you did at camp.”

Luz frowned immediately. Her stomach swirled with guilt. “I hope that’s alright, I know things in the past weren’t great between you two-”

“No, no!” Willow said quickly, holding up her hands. “That’s not what I meant. I meant what I said back in Kansas. We’re working on our stuff, that shouldn’t have anything to do with you two and your friendship. I was just noticing that you two seem close.”

“I mean… I guess we are, yeah.” Luz didn’t even realize she had reached up behind her head and was rubbing it nervously. Were her cheeks getting red? Why was she blushing? “I mean, we haven’t really been rivals or anything since the night of the skeleton attack, and we did save her so she’s kind of forced to be nicer to us. We had a talk in the tent yesterday and that kind of broke the ice between us…”

“You talked?” Willow said, now curious. “About what?”

Luz was at first not sure if Amity would like her sharing what Luz had told her, but she figured it would do no harm, if anything it would help Willow and Amity get along a little better. She told Willow about how they’d shared what ambrosia and nectar tasted like for them, but when she got to the part about Amity’s parents she froze, certain now she shouldn’t share that. Thankfully, Willow seemed to pick this up.

“I came in around that time, you don’t have to continue.”

“Well, then when you guys went to send a message to camp, we talked about the prophecy…”

She told Willow that story too, and when she finished, the Demeter camper looked stunned.

“What?” Luz asked, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing! It’s just… Amity was never the kind of person to openly share her feelings like that,” Willow said, a small smile beginning to pull at her lips. “She must really trust you.”

Luz was sure she was bright red now. “I mean, I hope she’d trust me! We are kind of stuck in this mess together…”

“Luz, I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing,” Willow insisted, leaning forward to rest her hand over Luz’s. The demigod hadn’t even realized she was beginning to panic a little, not really understand what Willow was getting at. Willow gave her a reassuring smile.

“I just mean you should be happy that Amity trusts you. I’ve known her for five years, and I think right now she must be feeling really alone. I’m glad she has someone like you to confide in. Don’t you feel the same way?”

Luz wasn’t really sure what to think, not that that was unusual for her. The truth was Amity really confused her. When Luz was around her, she had all these intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, like the time Antheia had touched her shoulder and filled her to the brim with emotions. They weren’t bad, they were just overwhelming. She was certain Amity was feeling something similar because she had been so weird around Luz as of late. She kept getting all anxious and red, and Luz was terrified she was doing something wrong.

Maybe she should talk to her about it.

A pop from the corner of the room made Luz jump, nearly shooting up from the table as she was snapped out of her thoughts. In the other corner of the room, a water fountain had appeared out of nowhere. It was creating a misty rainbow, and from the other end of the water, a soft and soothing voice called out to Luz.

“You are receiving an incoming Iris Message,” it said, “sender: Eda Clawthorne, Camp Half-Blood.”

Willow shot up from the table so quickly, Luz launched backward in her chair and fell, landing with an uncomfortable thump. “Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please show this message.”

The fountain shimmered for a moment, and when Luz looked up from her spot on the floor her mouth dropped. There was Eda, all the way from camp, blinking her gold eyes at them. She looked just as she always did, in a red dress and boots, Owlbert perched on her shoulder, his eyes also blinking comically through the fountain. At her side, she also saw King who blinked his yellow eyes at the fountain, looking back at Eda with a narrowed frown.

“Is this thing on?”

“Yes, King.” She said shortly. “That’s why we can see the kids.”

“Eda!” Luz shot up from the ground and ran towards the fountain, arms outstretched. Eda’s eyes widened, but not in delight. In warning.

“Kid, don’t!”

“Luz, no!”

Gus managed to jump at her, throwing her back into the floor. Luz groaned in agony as she landed on her back for the second time.

“Ow! Gus, what the heck!”

“Sorry!” He said apologetically from on top of her. “But that’s an Iris Message, and it’s powered by the rainbow coming with the fountain. If you touch it with your hands it severs the connection.”

Luz’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she slowly got to her feet. “Right, sorry.”

“You’re looking good, kid,” Eda said, and luz looked up at her mentor with a grin. She hadn’t seen Eda in days, and she hadn’t realized how badly she’d been missing her until she saw her reflection. “Travel suits you.”

“Thanks,” Luz said bouncing on her toes to try and work off some of her excitement.

“Sorry to just drop in on you kids, but I got work from Cabin Six that you had managed to find your way to an abandoned workshop in Denver, so I wanted to check-in and make sure you guys were alright.”

Gus, upon hearing this, brightened. “So the map works then?”

Eda chuckled. “Sure does.”

“Remember I told you guys Cabin Six knew vaguely about the locations of the workshops?” Gus said to them, and Willow and Luz nodded. “Well, it’s because we have a map of them in our cabin. Supposedly when a demigod “checks in” it’ll show their names on the map."

“All that stuff in the workshop that appears comes from somewhere,” Eda said with a smile. “Mainly camp, though I’m sure the wisdom goddess threw in a couple of those nice accessories for you. I’ve never seen that desk before.” Eda blinked in surprise, scanning the room. “or that fridge, or that stove. Or that wardrobe… Holy Zeus, she must really like you kids.”

She shook her head, something Luz knew meant that Eda was trying to stay focused.

“Anyways, I was told by Willow and Gus the other day that you’d found Amity. Where is she?”

“Taking a shower,” Luz supplied, and Eda nodded.

“I don’t blame her. But I’m glad she’s safe. The Blight Twins have been bugging me to ask about her so I’ll let them know she’s ok. But enough about that. I was doing a little research with Lily into your “resurrected heroes” issue. You should know that when heroes do escape the Underworld, their fatal flaw remains intact. You should use that against them in combat. Achilles has his heel of course, and you already severed the ties with Orpheus’ lyre. But Theseus’ flaw is not so easily breached.”

“What is it like a weak left arm or something?” Luz asked, and Eda chuckled.

“No, his isn’t physical. It’s his recklessness. He chose to confront you on the bus, without making sure Orpheus knew what his plan was. He likely chose rebirth without thinking of the consequences. Find out how to use that against him. I don’t know who this man in the mountain is, but if you want to beat him you have to beat his cronies first.”

Luz swallowed nervously, Eda narrowed her eyes.

“What, kid? Did something happen to you?”

Luz shook her head, before telling Eda about the dream, Belos, and the portal. Sometime during the story, Amity had come out of the shower. She was dressed in the fresh clothes she’d picked from the wardrobe, had her sword strapped to her belt, and her mint hair was still wet, hanging down near her shoulders. She waved hello to Eda, not wanting to interrupt Luz, and she grinned at Amity and whispered something to King, who took off and out of sight.

Luz tried not to get distracted from her story when Amity stood next to her. It was hard. Amity hadn’t looked so at peace in a long time, and she now smelled like fresh lavender and mint. Luz suddenly realized how desperately she needed a shower, but when Gus saw Amity he had squealed in delight and ran into the bathroom for his turn.

It took longer to tell the tale than she would have liked, but she did eventually finish. When she was done, Eda hummed, putting her finger to her lips.

“Belos. I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

Willow leaned forward anxiously. “You know him?”

Eda shrugged. “I was just a teenager when he tried to seize Olympus when he was alive. He rallied a team of misunderstood demigod’s and tried to take Olympus by force. This was before gods had to claim their children, and before we had the minor gods cabins at camp. He was an unclaimed Hermes camper who wanted recognition, and freedom from the consequences that come with being a half-blood. He was struck down by my dad’s thunderbolts personally.”

Luz, Willow, and Gus winced. What a way to go.

“If he’s alive again, then he’s a real threat,” Eda said seriously. “I don’t know much about him, but I do know his godly parent. Hecate, the goddess of magic and necromancy.”

Next to her, Amity flinched like she’d been slapped.

“Well, now we know how he can raise people from the dead,” Willow mumbled under her breath.

“Magic, that would explain that mist that was surrounding me in my dream,” Luz said, and Amity swallowed hard next to her.

“And the snow when I was trying to get to him with Skara and Boscha.”

“It won’t be easy to beat him,” Eda said seriously. “But it’s not impossible. You have help if you need it. Luz, you still have that whistle?”

Luz nodded, clutching the string around her neck. Eda grinned.

“When you need it, it’ll work. Also, your siblings from the Hermes cabin have a message for you. Something about remembering your Hermes secrets?”

Luz felt a jolt run through her. The bag of tricks that Viney and Jerbo had given her! Eda chuckled at the look on her face.

“I’m not even going to ask. The point is, if you kids ever need a hand, just know that your family has your back.”

Luz felt herself start to get a little choked up. She really missed Eda. On Eda’s line, Luz heard a thundering of footsteps, and King had reappeared with Edric and Emira on the other end.

“Mittens!” They both shrieked when they saw her. They were both dressed in orange camp shirts, and it looked like they must have come from training because they were covered in sweat. Amity couldn’t help but smile when she saw her siblings, and that made Luz split into a grin of her own.

“And that’s my cue,” Eda said, chuckling. She reached into her pocket and handed the twins a couple of golden drachmae. “I have to head out. I’ll look into this mountain man for you kids and try and get ahold of you if I find anything.”

“Thanks, Eda!” Luz said, unable to fully express how happy she was to have seen her again. Next to her, Willow had snuck off for her turn in the shower as Gus came back into the office. Luz rolled her eyes. It was supposed to be her turn, but she couldn’t be mad at Willow.

“No problem, kid,” Eda said, and she turned tail and walked away with King at her heels. The Blight twins immediately began to bombard them with questions.

“Are you alright?” Emira asked with a frown, peering over to examine Amity as best she could.

“You’re not hurt right?” Edric added, leaning in as well.

“No, I’m fine now,” Amity said with a roll of her eyes. “Luz and her friends rescued me and now I’m just healing up. But I’m almost back to 100%.”

“You have no idea how worried we were,” Emira said with a frown. Worry was such a weird look to see on the Blight twin’s face, Luz didn’t really know how to process it. She’d only ever seen them with smirks that screamed trouble, or a sly look that shared a similar sentiment. She realized she was starting, and Edric looked over at her, his face changing to glee.

“So I take it the chariot ride went alright then?” He said, and suddenly Luz was scowling.

“Yeah, thanks for that. We had to kill the white eagle in Cincinnati to pay your mom back.”

“A what?” Emira asked, confused. Amity rolled her eyes.

“She means the Caucasian Eagle,”

Edric howled with laughter, and Luz flushed, embarrassed. “It’s not funny! It could have killed us.”

“But it didn’t,” Emira singsonged, shooting Luz a wink. “You got mittens back and now you’re together and everything is all good.”

Luz felt her face start to heat up at what Emira said. It wasn’t like that, she didn’t get Amity back, she had just helped her out. And yes they were together but they weren’t like together. And Luz definitely wouldn’t call everything “all good”…

Next to her, Amity had flushed deep red, and the twins shared an absolutely ecstatic look that was probably the scariest thing Luz had ever seen.

“Emira, I get the feeling that everything is more than “all good” for mittens here…”

“Me too, Edric. In fact, I think this might be mitten’s preferred situation-”

“Shut up!” Amity spat, her face twisting into a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Luz now felt uncomfortable, like she was intruding on a private conversation. Thankfully, Willow had now exited the bathroom, and Luz had an out.

“Nice talking to you guys and all,” Luz started, already walking backward. “But it’s my turn for a shower. I’ll see you guys back at camp when we’re done with this whole quest and everything.”

“Bye, Luz!” Edric grinned, waving to her.

“See you later, cutie,” Emira said with a knowing wink, and Luz felt her face heat up to dangerous levels. She couldn’t really place how, but she was starting to finally process that the children of Aphrodite were a lot scarier than they seemed at first glance.

Luz entered the bathroom and her mouth dropped. It was entirely white, with gold accents, and there was a massive shower right at the end of it. Next to Luz there was a spot she could put her clothes to have them washed and dried while she showered (Luz didn’t understand how that worked, but considering it was stamped with the Camp Half-Blood Pegasus logo she imagined it was some magic demigod stuff) and there was a double vanity on the other side with a basket on top stuffed with toiletries. Her Mami would have let them live in this bathroom if they could have.

The shower wasn’t wet, despite her friends having used it beforehand, which Luz didn’t understand but it just made the whole experience a thousand times better. By the time she stepped out, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt cleaner in her entire life. She used the deodorant in the vanity, (it was Luz’s favorite scent, so she was starting to realize the bathroom had reset after each use and accustomed based on what demigod used it) the body moisturizer, and the toner and moisturizer that was clearly set aside for her face. She brushed her teeth and combed out her wet hair, which was already drying thanks to it being so short, and even used the body spray. It was musky and smelled a bit like the cedar trees that grew in Amherst near her Abuela's house.

She put back on her, now clean, clothes and shoes, and packed the toiletries in her backpack to use later. She made sure Aletheia was secure on her finger and she exited the bathroom, feeling better than she had in weeks.

She was greeted by an unusually quiet workshop. Willow and Gus were nowhere to be seen, and Amity was sitting in a comfortable looking leather armchair next to the bookcase, flipping the pages of a novel.

“Amity?”

The demigod looked up, her gold eyes focusing on Luz. Her cheeks pinked, and she waved awkwardly.

“Hey, how was your shower?”

“Fantastic!” Luz grinned, heading towards her. “Where are Willow and Gus?”

“My siblings said Eda and Lilith sent us some money to the post office near here. They went to go pick it up.”

“That’s good,” Luz said with a smile. “It’ll be a lot easier planning our next move when we don’t have to worry too much about cash.” As she got close enough to see what Amity was reading, her eyes widened.

“Are you reading “The Good Witch Azura”?”

Amity’s cheeks reddened. “Uh, yeah?”

“That’s my favorite series ever!” Luz squealed in excitement, leaning down to Amity to see what she was reading. She was so close she could smell the mint again.“Oh, you’re at the Bog of Immediate Regret! That’s such a cool chapter.”

When Luz looked up, Amity’s face was so red Luz was worried she was going to pass out. She had leaned as far away as she could from Luz and held up her hands in surprise. Luz recoiled, putting her hands on the arm of the chair apologetically.

“Sorry, I just really love their backstory.”

“It’s alright!” Amity squeaked, and Luz rubbed her neck in embarrassment. She always had a way of making kids her age feel awkward, and one of those ways was by constantly rambling about her favorite books or anime. She didn’t want to scare Amity off. Something about her demeanor must have changed because Amity suddenly frowned.

“Luz, really, it’s ok.” She tried for a smile. “I love their backstory too. It’s my favorite series, I’ve been reading them since they came out.”

Luz leaned forward again, her hesitation forgotten. “No way! What do you think of the new one?”

Amity frowned. “New one? I’ve only read up to the fourth book.”

Luz gasped dramatically, holding her hand over her heart. “What? The new one dropped this summer and it’s so good! I have it at home. I wish it was here.”

Just like that, and end table appeared next to the leather chair Amity was sitting in, with the newest copy of “The Good Witch Azura”, and Luz whooped in excitement, picking it up and flipping the page. She looked inside the cover and awed. It was her copy from her bookshelf at home. Her name was scribbled in scraggily font on the inside cover.

“Here,” Luz said, handing it to Amity. “You can borrow my copy and tell me what you think.”

“Are you sure?” Amity took the book like it was made of glass.

“Of course!” Luz insisted, pushing it into her hands. “You have to let me know what you think. I’ve never had any friends to talk about Azura with before. We should start a little book club together!”

Amity took the book and stared at it for a few moments, before looking up at Luz with a smile. Her eyes were glowing with gratitude, and the look made Luz’s heart practically leap out of her chest. She loved seeing Amity look so happy.

“Ok, thank you.”

Luz was going to ask Amity to start reading and see what she thought of the first chapter, but suddenly the door was open to the workshop, and Willow and Gus were walking back in, with a very nervous look on their faces. Luz immediately frowned, stepping forward.

“What’s going on?” She caught sight of their panic and her own eyes narrowed. “Who hurt my babies?”

“It’s not us we’re worried about,” Willow said quickly, her eyes flickering back between Luz and Amity.

“Amity, your mother is sitting in the café across the street.”

Amity immediately froze up, her eyes widened in panic. “My… mother? Which one?”

Gus’ eyes were wide like he’d just seen a ghost. Or a monster. Or maybe something much, much, worse.

“Your godly one. She called us over on the way back from the post office. She wants to talk to you and Luz.”

#the owl house #lumity #luz x amity #Percy Jackson AU #shelby speaks

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siderealscribblings · 7 years

Text

Eurydice, Eat Your Heart Out (Adrino Percy Jackson AU)

In the dark of Cabin 10, staring up at the roof of his bunk, Adrien could hear the distant plucking of a harp as waves lapped lazily against the shoreline.

All things considered, it wasn’t surprising that he was having trouble sleeping; less than twenty-four hours earlier his father’s limo was nearly destroyed by a rampaging Cyclops that the middle-aged fashion mogul dispatched with a quick flick of a sword he drew from seemingly nowhere. From there, it was somewhat of a blur of packing, private jet rides, and clandestine car trips to the sunny shores of Long Island, New York, a silver pen containing the only means of protection he had in case other monsters attacked.

Monsters.

He could still scarcely believe it. If someone had told him that he was the product of an affair between his mother and the Greco-Roman goddess of love and beauty a few days ago, he would have been dialing Gorilla’s number as quickly as he could while backing away from them. Now, surrounded by dozens of half-siblings he never knew existed, Adrien didn’t quite know what to make of his current situation. He still thought he was going to wake up, home in Paris, and the whole thing would have been just a fever dream brought on by bad cheese; the attack, the journey, the music-

Sitting up in bed, Adrien strained his ears over the snoring of his bunkmate to hear the almost aimless melody that meandered its way across the waves. It was a song that sounded so familiar; like the chorus to something he had heard on the radio years ago. It couldnt’ve been coming from far, judging by the way it cut through the sound of twenty-five teenagers’ beauty sleep, so, clutching his pen and carrying his sneakers, Adrien tip-toed towards the door as quietly as possible, stepping out into the warm Long Island night.

He didn’t know if there was anyone roaming the camp-grounds enforcing curfew, so Adrien stuck to the shadows as much as possible, straining his ears for the music that seemed to beat in time with the waves. Adrien couldn’t say he knew his way around camp that well, but the symphony of water and music carried across the sands and pulled him towards the beach. The light of the full moon beat down on the rolling surf, coming to rest on a dark-skinned figure sitting on the shoreline, dressed in a simple black tank-top and shorts.

As Adrien approached, he idly wondered if sirens came in the form of handsome teenage boys, and wondered if he was wandering to his death by drowning. His shoe snapped a piece of driftwood, and before Adrien could react, the other boy was on his feet, instrument tucked under one arm as a glittering shortsword pointed at him in the other. They froze as they locked eyes for a long moment, hands at their weapons ready to strike. Then the other boy let out a nervous laugh, stowing his sword in his belt.

“Di fuckin’ immortales, man, you scared the hell out of me,” the young man laughed, teeth glimmering in the moonlight.

“S-Sorry!” Adrien laughed, stowing his staff. “I-I couldn’t sleep and…well, I was listening to your music and-”

“You’re a bad liar, dude,” the other boy chuckled, anxiously plucking a few strings and sending another few notes into the air. “Like, really really bad.”

Adrien offered an apologetic chuckle as the musician examined him. “Wait…you’re the new kid, right? Just flew in from Paris this morning…Adrien something?”

“Agreste,” Adrien said, offering his hand out for a shake, before transitioning into a fist-bump, before transitioning into a shaky wave all within the span of a few seconds. “Son of Aphrodite

“Yeah…they said you were homeschooled,” the young man chuckled, lightly bumping the back of his hand against Adrien’s. “Nino Lahiffe; nocturnal lyrist.”

“Nino Lahiffe,” Adrien echoed, racking his brain as he looked the young man over and tried to make an educated guess about his godly parent. “And, y-yeah I just got here.”

“First day jitters?” Nino asked, sitting down in the sand and motioning to the ground beside him. “S’cool; I remember those.”

“How long have you been here?” Adrien asked, sitting cross-legged next to Nino, watching him pluck his lyre almost distractedly.

“Ten years now,” Nino said, glancing out over the ocean. “They brought me here after mom passed; been a year-rounder ever since.”

“Oh…” Adrien said, arms wrapping around his legs. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, I can’t say I miss her that much,” Nino shrugged, with a smile that was almost too casual. “…haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

“I…w-well, I sometimes do shoots for my fath…step-father’s fashion company,” Adrien said, kicking his sneakers off as his toes dig into the sand.

“Oh shit you’re the son of that Gabriel dude!” Nino said, hand slapping against his forehead. “Wow, there is a girl in Cabin Seven that is going to flip when she finds out!”

“I’d rather there be not so much flipping, if that’s okay,” Adrien said.

“Hands are tied; girl’s set on being the next Anna Wintour,” Nino said, leaning back as he looked out over the water. “You might end up her model sooner or later; we all pretty much have.”

“Sounds like a pretty tight group you guys got here,” Adrien said softly, glancing across at Nino.

“We get pretty tight…we are family after all,” Nino laughed. “Though, if you got your eye on someone, go ahead and make a play. No biological relation between us, so we ducked the incest bar.”

“That’s…good to know,” Adrien said, scratching his arms anxiously. “Though I don’t think I’m ready to date yet.”

“Give it time; something about having your life threatened by monsters and surrounded by hot guys and girls makes people more prone to sloppy beachside makeouts,” Nino said, one leg crossing on the other as he leaned back on the sand.

“You speaking from experience?” Adrien asked, earning him a small smirk from Nino.

“Might be,” Nino chuckled. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell though.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Adrien blurted out, watching Nino’s fingers walk across the strings almost hypnotically.

“Don’t tell me a guy like you’s never been kissed,” Nino scoffed, sitting up in the sand.

“A guy like me?”

“Mr. Tall, Blonde, and Handsome doesn’t have a little mademoiselle waiting for him back in Paris?” Nino asked, arching an eyebrow as Adrien’s cheeks flushed. “Or a little monsieur if that’s how you butter your croissant?”

“N-Neither!” Adrien said, holding up his hands. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t mind the butter on either side of the croissant but-”

“Relax,” Nino said, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Just hazing the new kid.”

“Hazing?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Nino said with a toothy grin. “The son of Hades is gonna summon a hoard of skeletons for you guys to fight tomorrow?”

“S-Skeletons?!” Adrien spluttered. “Wh-What happens if you don’t beat them?!”

“Well…skeletons have gotta come from somewhere, right?” Nino sighed as Adrien narrowed his eyes at him.

“…you’re messing with me, aren’t you?” Adrien said.

“You’re picking up quick, Paris,” Nino said, golf-clapping a little.

“I have to, don’t I?” Adrien sighed, flopping back on the sand and staring up at the night sky. “I mean…yesterday I was just a student and part-time model…today I learned that I’m the lovechild of Aphrodite, my father is a son of Athena and isn’t my real father, and apparently monsters want me dead because of that.”

Nino propped himself up on one hand, harp tucked under his arm as he stared at the young man across the sand.

“Lot to swallow, huh?” Nino said softly.

“Too much sometimes,” Adrien muttered, turning to look at him. “Does it get easier?”

“With time,” Nino said, offering him a reassuring smile. “So long as you don’t flake on training.”

“That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” Adrien groaned, glancing at the clock on the phone. “I should probably get to bed, huh?”

“Son of Hades isn’t gonna go easy on you, Paris,” Nino said, hopping to his feet and offering Adrien a hand.

“Is this a thing now?” Adrien asked, grabbing Nino’s hand and hauling himself to his feet. “Like the city or like Helen’s boyfriend?”

“Either,” Nino said, tossing Adrien his shoes. “Though if your mom, Athena, and Hera ask you to judge a beauty contest-”

“Je ne parle pas grec,” Adrien chuckled, holding his hands up.

“Yeah…whatever that means,” Nino said, tapping his lyre against Adrien’s back as they traipsed back towards the camp, an easy silence falling between them, punctuated by the occasional lyre pluck.

“Nice lyre,” Adrien said after a moment, eyeing the bone-white frame and glittering silver strings.

“Present from my dad,” Nino said, holding it up in the moonlight as Adrien mentally registered that this probably meant he was Apollo’s scion. “Used to belong to Orpheus, if you can believe it.”

“Get out.”

“On Styx, my man,” Nino said, plucking an arpeggio. “Same one that convinced Hades to let wifey out.”

“That…didn’t end so well, did it?” Adrien asked as they approached Aphrodite’s cabin.

“Guy didn’t trust the gods, that’s why,” Nino said.

“Or didn’t trust his own partner,” Adrien said, earning a strange look from Nino.

“How do you figure?”

Adrien bit his lip. “Well…he should have known that his wife would follow him out of Tartarus. He should have trusted that she would follow him and just walked out when he had the chance.”

“You could do that?” Nino asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just...walk into Tartarus and trust that your partner would walk out with you?”

“Well…if they were the right person,” Adrien said, scuffling on the path outside Cabin Ten as he shot a small, shaky smile in Nino’s direction. “Yeah…I’d like to think I’d do anything for them.”

Nino blinked, scratching the back of his neck as he let out a small laugh. “Wow, they really put you in the right cabin, didn’t they Paris?”

“What can I say; every Frenchman has the soul of a lover,” Adrien said, plucking a rose from the bush outside and flourishing in Nino’s direction with a waggle of his eyebrow.

“Alright, chill Casanova; tomorrow we find out if you got the soul of a fighter too,” Nino said, backing up towards the other cabins. “I’ll look for you.”

“I’ll be there,” Adrien said, offering him a small wave as he retreated. “Don’t look back now, Orpheus.”

Nino chuckled, turning around as he headed toward his cabin. When he thought Adrien wasn’t looking, he spared a glance back, long enough to see Adrien’s exasperated expression and shoot an apologetic smile before resuming his journey, fingers plucking the harp absentmindedly.

Adrien watched him go for a moment, wandering into the darkness between the cabins with a tune dancing on the tips of his fingers as he left. It took him a long moment to regain his bearings; a long moment spent feeling the warm breeze against his skin, the moonlight beating down on him from above, and willing his heart to stop its frenetic beating in time to the song Nino left him with.

Whatever sleep he hoped to find was never going to come now that he heard that song and realized, with some wistful anticipation, that it was the only song he wanted to hear ever again.

“Hey, Nathanael!” Adrien called, jogging up to the Apollo cabin councilor as they made their way towards the training pitch.

“Hm?” Nathanael said, slowing down and shouldering his spear. “Something you wanted?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if Nino got back okay last night,” Adrien said, twirling his staff as Nathanael shot him an odd look.

“Why would I know if Nino got back okay?” Nathanael asked.

“He’s…Apollo cabin, right?” Adrien frowned as Nathanael let out a small chuckle.

“I can see how you might get that impression,” Nathanael said as they approached the training pitch. “But I’m afraid he’s not one of mine.”

“Then whose son is…” As they crested the hill, they were greeted by a small squad of lightly armed skeletons, milling around a figure in black leather armor, hand lazily resting on the pommel of a shortsword. There were some nervous jitters as they approached, with some of the newer campers staying behind their counselors as the training group.

“Alright, you guys,” the black clad figure said in a voice that made Adrien’s heart drop as he peeled off his helmet, revealing a familiar pair of gold eyes that scanned the crowd approvingly. “My friends here have donated their time to be your first live training dummies…well, live is kinda the wrong word for it, but you know.”

There was a wave of scattered laughter as Nino’s eyes landed on Adrien, eyebrow raising as Adrien shot him a small smile.

“Yeah…looks like you made friends with the only living son of Hades,” Nathanael said, nudging Adrien lightly. “Don’t worry; he’s not as scary as the skeletons make him look.”

“Tell you what,” Nino said, pulling his phone out. “Whoever puts my bony friends down the quickest gets commissary lunch on me…any volunteers.”

As the rest of the crowd shrank back, Adrien found himself stepping forward, staff extended as the skeletons closed in around him.

“Anything I want, Orpheus?” Adrien asked, shooting Nino a challenging glare.

“Anything your little heart desires, Paris,” Nino said, shooting him a small wink as the practice field turned into a storm of silver and bonedust.

#my writing #adrino #mlmiraculous #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe

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81scorp · 4 years

Text

My thoughts on Wreck-it Ralph 2

(Originally posted on Deviantart June 27, 2018)

I know what you`re thinking. Isn`t it too early to talk about a movie that hasn`t even come out yet and that we`ve only seen two trailers of so far?* Yes, yes it is. But I`m gonna do it anyway. And technically, by internet standard I`m not too early. More than a few people before me have already published editorials or videos or other form of reactions where they`ve picked apart, nitpicked, overreacted or in other ways jumped to conclusions about things they don`t know enough about. By internet standard I`m pretty late to the party. Grin like a moron and giggle like an idiot Not gonna lie, part of... ("part of?" Oh who am I kidding?) The reason I`m writing this is because of the scene where Vanellope meets the Disney Princesses. Like most of you I read about this online and it became this movie`s "too fun to miss" thing for me. When the first Wreck-it Ralph movie came out I was on the fence about seeing it, but then I saw a pic from the Bad anon meeting and I felt that a movie with a scene where several famous videogame badguys (like M. Bison, Eggman and Bowser) go to a support group seemed too fun to miss. I had a similar thing with Guardians of the Galaxy where the idea of a talking, machinegun-wielding racoon in a Marvel movie was the "too fun to miss" thing. After that the next movie with a "too fun to miss" thing was Moana, because I did not want to miss the chance of seeing Dwayne Johnson in a Disney musical. Not gonna lie, when I first read that the Disney Princesses where gonna show up together in Wreck-it Ralph 2 I grinned like a moron and giggled like an idiot. One comment I`ve heard somewhere about this scene is that what it does is not very new or original since Enchanted did the whole "Disney poking fun at itself" first, years ago. Another comment is that people have been making Disney crossovers in fanfics and fan art for years and that Disney themselves are pretty damn late when it comes to doing it themselves. Yeah, and? First: People seem to think that something has to be new or original to be good. While originality is a good thing it is not always necessary. Something that is not original can be good if you do something interesting and creative with it. Before Toy story there was a tv movie where toys came to life. It also had a protagonist, who was the favorite toy, that had to deal with a newcomer who was a sci-fi action-figure who didn`t know that they, themself were a toy. It`s called The Christmas toy, made by Eric Till and Jim Henson. It came out 1986 and it`s existence does not make Toy story worse. Toy story does more with the "living toys" idea than The Christmas toy did and it was funnier. Second: Yeah, it`s a little late. But better late than never. Press start button for hero`s journey As much as the princess scene is the biggest reason I want to see this movie, my common sense told me that this is only gonna be one scene that most likely will only take two minutes max of the movie`s runtime. And no, I`m not one of those who wonders "Where`s Kida? Where`s Meg? Where`s Eilonwy?" Because I`m reasonable. You can`t put everyone who has two X chromosomes in the Princess lineup. But Moana`s in the room with the other princesses and she`s not in the official lineup. Most likely because animated movies take a long time to make and the filmmakers probably assumed that she would be included in the lineup by the time the first trailer premiered. Personally I don`t mind, because Moana`s awesome. But it would be fun if Kida, Meg and Eilonwy at least got a small cameo, like Chun Li and Cammy got in the first movie. It would be a nice way for the filmmakers to show that they remember the little ones. But this is not a movie about Ralph and Vanellope meeting the princesses, it`s a movie about Ralph and Vanellope travelling the internet and doing so for a reason. If you`ve read the plot synopsis you know that someting in Vanellope`s game breaks down and they can only get a replacement for it somewhere on the internet. I have a few predictions (most of them will probably be wrong) and a few hopes (most of them will probably not happen) about where this film is going. This film may take inspiration from Homer`s The Odyssey and the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Both are stories where the protagonist goes on a challenging journey filled with obstacles and dangers. And, since it is implied in the title that there will be some degree of destruction: National Lampoon`s European Vacation. Maybe the movie will have some commentary about internet culture and how much time we spend online? Maybe. These are the thoughts I had before the release of the second trailer. Here are the thoughts I had after I saw it. When princesses attack or: How I learned to stop worrying too much and be OK with what I saw I have to admit that I like the Disney Princesses scene... But I also have mixed feelings about it. Part of it is the design, I would have preferred it if they had been closer to their original design. I`m not saying that the 2D princesses should have been in 2D but I would have liked if their 3D form had been more directly translated from their original versions. I can however understand why they changed it. The "real life" humans in this world don`t look very close to us in their design, they are slightly stylized and caricatured. To put a fictional character that looks closer to us in their world would make them stand out a little. However, there are only two of the princesses that are made to look as close to real people as possible in the princess lineup: Snowwhite and Cinderella. So maybe you could tweak their design a little while leaving the rest of the 2D princesses the same (just translated to 3D) and leave the 3D princesses untouched. But then again, changing only two characters from their iconic look that the public is used to and leave the rest with their iconic looks unchanged would probably create a feeling of inconsistency. Their classic looks, while not drawn by the same artist and therefor not very consistent in artstyle, are familiar to us and we like familiarity so we overlook the inconsistency. And technically, Disney has kinda built their brand on familiarity. Personally I believe that it could have been funnier if they had looked closer to their original designs while acting like they did in the trailer. It`s similar to David Zucker`s first rule of comedy: deliver a funny line with a serious face. I wouldn`t mind if they had compromised and gone 50/50 between the classical designs and the WiR 2 designs. Another option is to keep the WiR2 designs and only change one thing: Cinderella`s hair. They have kept the most distinguishing features from the old classics in their new designs so that you can recognize them despite the new look, except Cinderella`s hair. In the classic version her hair was more of (for lack of a better word to discribe it) a curve. Here it`s just an ordinary hairbun, not as iconic or recognizable. She can keep her ears but don`t lose the hair curve. *** It`s similar to the Doctor`s Tardis in Dr Who, sure, it`s an old look but it makes it more recognizable and timeless. And While we`re on the subject: yes, they made Merida`s eyes a little too big. And then the jokes. The jokes were fine. I especially found it funny when Punzie and Belle asked Vanellope with great interest if she`d ever been kidnapped or enslaved and Vanellope wondered if she should call the police. About this line from the trailer: Rapunzel: Do people assume all your problems got solved because a big strong man showed up? Vanellope: Yes! What is up with that? It`s technically not bad, it`s just that the feminist commentary in he trailer to The Lego Movie 2 was funnier. Sweet Mayhem: This guy was a fierce warrior? Wyldstyle: Okay, well, technically, *I* did the warrior stuff, but... Sweet Mayhem: So you fought, and master built, and kicked butt, and then the hapless male was the leader. Wyldstyle: He, uh... Well... The commentary in WiR 2 just felt like, exactly that, a commentary. One that was very light on the funny. But what if you don`t compare it to lines from other movies? What if you just focus on how it works in it`s own? Still not as good as Vanellope`s "Should I call the police?" line. But does it have to be funny? Not necessarily, but things being funny in a comedy is always appreciated. Oh well, at least it`s better than the forced strawfeminist commentary from the Emoji movie. People on the net have brought up complaints like: "It`s just a bunch of product placement!" and "The Disney princesses are out of character!" First: Yes, but the first movie had product placement too. Remember "Nesquiksand"? or "Oreo, Oreeo". Then again: In the first one the product placement was cleverly delivered in joke form. What we`ve seen so far from the trailer, when it comes to product placement, the jokey delivery is very light to pretty much absent. Second: Yes, the princesses are out of character, you know who else is? Ralph. He`s the bad guy in his game but when he`s not on the clock he`s a nice guy. Can`t the princesses be similar? Kind and gentle in their own movies but capable of being mean in the "real world"? They are fictional characters with self awareness after all. Then again: The princess jokes in the trailer felt a bit generalizing and seemed at times almost close to Shrek humor. Mel Brooks once said: "You have to love the thing you parody". Shrek was built on Jeffrey Katzenberg`s hate towards Michael Eisner (The CEO of Disney at the time.) and many of the jokes were meant to be a big middlefinger to Disney. Poking fun at Disney is fine but don`t try to be Shrek. But isn`t all this just nitpicking? Yes, yes it is. But I like nitpicking! I guess I expected it to be something more, something bigger. But why did I do that? Is it because The filmmakers themselves made such a big deal about it on the D23 expo? "Guess what, in our next movie we`re gonna have all the Disney princesses interact with Vanellope! We even have all the original living voice actresses coming back to reprise their roles! Isn`t that awesome?! Let`s have them all come up on stage! Come on! Big applause!" Maybe it is or maybe it`s because I heard about the scene but never saw it and it made me create many possible scenarios in my mind of how it could play out. It`s like that feeling you get when you watch a movie based on a book you like and feel that this is not how you imagined it. Or maybe I`m just spoiled by Kingdom Hearts and Pocket Princesses.** First I wondered if it was such a good idea to show the princess scene in the second trailer but in hindsight I realize that it is. By releasing the scene six months before the movie comes out, all those grumpy people that complain about their design will have had enough time to get used to it by the time it premieres. At least if they are reasonable grumpy people. Lies, damn lies and movie trailers Mark Twain is rumored to be one of the people to have said that there are three kinds of lies: "Lies, damn lies, and statistics". But you can also add "movie trailer" to that list. One of the best ways to give people the wrong idea of what your movie`s gonna be about is to be very selective with what you show in the trailer. One example is Tangled: The trailer made it look passable and filled with nothing but slapstick, but the movie itself turned out to be genuinely good. Another example is X-Men Origins: Wolverine. The trailer made it look cool and badass but the movie as a whole was just uninspired, rushed and disappointing. The phrases "What we`ve seen so far from the trailer" and "The princess jokes in the trailer" are there for me to remind myself (and others) that we don`t know the whole picture yet. The princess jokes we haven`t seen yet could be funnier than those we have seen. (...Or they could be worse.) It`s possible that they`ve shown most of the movie`s product placement in the trailers already. And the product placement that`s left could be delivered in a jokey way or not be very intrusive or important to the plot. I think that the filmmakers (most of the time at least) knew what they were doing, otherwise they would have had Ralph and Vanellope ask a real life search engine, like Google, for directions instead of Knowsmore. Speaking of that scene: Disney is not a stranger to altering scenes in their trailers to fool us. Once again an example from Tangled: the scene from one of the trailers where Eugene sneaks into Rapunzel`s tower and has a fight with her hair was not in the movie. So the scene with Knowsmore could go something like this: A: Vanellope doesn`t ask him to take them to a crazy fun place but instead to a place where they can find the missing piece to her game. B: Vanellope asks him to take them to a crazy fun place and he directs them to Buzztube where they meet Yesss. There are of course more possibilities but those two were the only ones I could think of. I`m cautiously optimistic about this movie. I think that`s all I had to say. Now, if you excuse me, I just finished making one hundred pancakes and I`m gonna feed them all to my pet bunny. Feel free to disagree but try to keep it civil. *At least by the time I`m writing this **Kingdom Hearts because they do more faithful 2D to 3D translations and Pocket princesses because it has better characterbased Disney Princess jokes.

***After repeated viewings of this scene I saw that they technically did try to preserve as much as possible of her hair curve in the new design. It just looked like an ordinary hair bun in the offical stills. My mistake.

#81scorp

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