#that her powers are not exactly limited in the underworld
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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 ; they are in the underworld but Persephone's powers are not limited here as they first thought it would be and which, to her, it is a big discovery and one that she wishes to share with @sapphiredhearts . “ Not quite— or at least i hope it might turn soon enough. ” The goddess says as she is guiding her husband by the hand towards a very specific location near the palace.
Persephone likes to roam the grounds around the palace to see and learn more about the world Hades lives in. She likes to see things for herself rather than just hearing what the god's court and subjects have to say about it. And to be honest, the goddess of spring likes to take long walks while she thinks about various matters, she did that all the time in the mortal world and didn't want to lose that freedom here — even if it means walking with the skeleton guards for her protection ( as if anyone would dare to do something against the now queen of the underworld ). But she doesn’t mind them now. In less than a few days, she has learned that the skeletons can be a good company and Persephone is a very talkative, extrovert goddess ; and soon they have learned to be like that around her too.
“ You are not going to believe what i’ve managed to do ! ” Finally arriving at her special location, Persephone points towards a big rose bush — its petal colors are black like the night. One would think how such a flower bloomed in the underworld and honestly, the goddess couldn’t think of a better explanation besides that she might be the one who did it ; which is why she has brought Hades here, maybe he can explain better what’s happening since it is his realm.
#okay so!! i thought it would be cute if they found out#that her powers are not exactly limited in the underworld#and that she can actually stay there with him because of it!!#and she starting to create the garden 🥹#sapphiredhearts#‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ asks / messages from the stars.#‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ic / goddess persephone.#‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ooc / queue.
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Hello, can you do a hilis inoaden (untouchable lady if you have read it) x hades or choosing someone else from ror? (I said hades because of similarity between Persephone and hilis)
The Goddess Demeter had two daughters running around her fertile lands, but everyone knew that the Goddess's favorite was Persephone.
However, what was known but ignored was that the power of the second girl exceeded even the 3 great Gods.
You died exactly 7 times, but time was ticking with you. Every death was a setback. In your first life, you gave your power to Persephone and died
You died in Ragnarok in your second life.
In his third life, Hades kidnapped Persephone and you died in battle.
It was your mother, Demeter, who killed you in your fourth life.
You died for Persephone in your fifth life.
But in your sixth life, this time you were the queen of the underworld. As soon as you were reunited with your lover after centuries of misery, Hades died in Ragnarok.
When you opened your eyes once again in your seventh life, you weren't the only one to return to the past. All this time, even after their deaths, you always believed in your mother Demeter, hoping that Persephone or your mother would come, even though you were happy when Hades kidnapped you.
The truth was always in front of her. No one denied it. You were always the one in denial.
Thus, the world around him, luxury, power, Gods and Goddesses all lost their meaning. You've been where you want to be, but you're not sure you want to.
They noticed. How could they not? You were more than just a puppet, you were the one who set the limits and the limitlessness of your powers.
But after all these turns, Hades was still there. He's always loved you so much, but you're not the one in the cage anymore. Hades liked it so much that he was so excited that he lost his mind.
Everything proceeded like your 6th life. Hades was the same as always. He was a king. Your king.
He never told you that he went back to the past with you. He watched that callous, vindictive woman you became. The truth of what kind of woman you really are is hidden in him.
The other thing he kept to himself was how much he always loved you between all those 6 flashbacks.
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What does it that makes silent hill is silent hill? I haven't personally played it but as much as I know there's many game inspired by it but still not get the point straight?
As for all I know it has:
1) manifestation of fear and/or guilt as monsters attacking them;
2) the universe its in has layers (real world, underworld, and something between?);
3) the foggy / dark surroundings that started off as engine limitation as first game was made was actually works so well as environmental horror (all the blood and rust is part of the history of said town)
Also does it matter if the horror changed the protag into monster too? Thanks 👍🏽
To preface this: The games in the series after Silent Hill 1-4 were made when Konami started to shit the bed, and were not made by Team Silent (who were ultimately disbanded). Konami let almost any western developer crank out a Silent Hill game for them after SH4. These games don’t fit in to the narrative because the devs just did whatever the fuck they wanted with it.
That being said, the backstory is super vague, but the Team Silent entries actually do get the point straight — it just depends on how much you wanna look for it in game lol.
Essentially the connecting thread that lets Silent Hill 1-4 exist in the same universe is the history of the town itself. To keep a long story short, the town exists on sacred ground that some sort of spirit/deity inhabited. The entity was considered benevolent, but slowly became corrupted over time due to the bad things that kept happening as more people came to reside in the area/cults were formed/etc. This kind of boils over when a cult member burns her daughter alive in an attempt to birth her cult’s god from pain and suffering. The corruption allows the town to more or less “call” people to it, and even begins to spread to nearby towns as well.
To address your points:
The monsters are not all fear and guilt. It depends on the person. Harry Mason (SH1 protag) literally didn’t do anything wrong, just pursues his adopted daughter Cheryl into the town. But because his daughter is part of Alessa’s soul, Harry ends up facing off against monsters shaped by Alessa’s fears and memories, not his own. Heather/Cheryl Mason (SH3 protag) is a reborn version of Alessa as well, so she shares a lot of Alessa’s monsters. However, Heather is also her own person with her own life experiences apart from Alessa, so a lot of her monsters represent her own fears — hence the very phallic appearance of a lot of them, the insane cancers, etc. James Sunderland (SH2 protag) has nothing to do with the cult, but he and his wife vacationed in Silent Hill and she adored the town. The town beckons him after her death using her, and his monsters reflect everything from her illness to his repressed sexuality. The only exception is pyramid head. He acts as James’ reflection to punish him for his actions, but resembles a portrait of a town executioner found in the historical society that seemed to weird James out. Similarly, Henry Townshend (SH4 protag) isn’t involved in the cult, and also hadn’t done anything wrong. But Walter Sullivan is tied to the cult and trying to kill Henry and the Otherworld/town’s power is slowly seeping into other, nearby places. So the monsters are symbolic to Walter, not Henry.
There’s layers and a dimensional shift of sorts occurring between versions of the town. You have the regular town, the Fog World where subconscious parts of the mind can manifest acting as the sort of ‘purgatory/transition state’ between the Normal town and the Otherworld, the (often, but not always) rusty and bloody Otherworld, and Nowhere, which is a unique part of the Otherworld that pertains to Alessa in particular.
Yes, the fog was originally used to combat the hardware limitations of the time and became iconic. But the blood and rust isn’t exactly a part of the history of the town or anything and may not be the universal experience. Other characters might see something totally different based off of their own issues/mental state/etc. Angela’s Otherworld, for example, is more fleshy, blatantly (and uncomfortably) sexual, and on fire from the little we get to see of it because of what she did and what she went through. Laura, on the other hand, can move through the town easily and doesn’t see anything bad because she’s a little kid who, at worst, might be overwhelmingly lonely and have that influencing what she experiences. Meanwhile, Heather sees things that are fiery and fleshy/sometimes even womb-like, James sees things that are fleshy and kind of rusty and rotted, and Henry frequently sees things like giant umbilical cords when he uses a portal to leave his apartment.
Ultimately, the experience a character has depends on who they are, what they’ve done, and/or what their connection to the area is.
There’s a lot more to it than this response covers tbh, but I hope this at least gives you a better idea of what’s going on lol.
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Dark Elf Chapter 5: Ensorcelled
Series: Dark Elf
Fandom: The Royal Romance
Pairings: Riley x Liam, maybe Riley x Drake
Word Count: 1,470
Rating: MA
Warnings for this chapter: Dark themes, mature themes
A/N: Hana, Maxwell, Drake, and Liam reflect on their feelings about the new woman in their lives.
My other stuff: Master List.
Hana Lee, the beautiful and quiet lady from Shanghai, made her way into the formal dining room on the arm of Rashad Faheem, one of her father’s business associates and a fixture at the Cordonian Royal Palace.
Her parents had sent her to Cordonia, her mother’s homeland, for the social season. Their objective was simple but clear. Find a husband. A suitable one.
One failed engagement behind her meant that her prospects were limited among her parent’s social circle. She hated her parents’ social circle. It was traditional, outdated, male-dominated, and suffocating.
She didn’t want a husband.
Ever.
Her eyes slid across the table to the woman by the side of the younger prince.
Riley Brooks was glowing as she laughed at something the king had said, her head tipped back, her laugh crystalline, her eyes sparkled with good humor, and her skin glowed with youth and good health. Lush, bistered locks cascaded down her back in riotous waves. The dress she was wearing was tight and revealing, putting her cleavage on full display as her chest heaved with laughter.
Hana’s eyes narrowed as Liam, shaking with laughter of his own, leaned his body toward Riley and covered her hand with his as his eyes lit upon her face.
Riley rewarded him with the briefest glance, but it was enough to suffuse the young man’s face with pleasure and anticipation.
Hana wondered about the nature of their personal relationship. She suppressed her annoyance as her own date pulled out a chair for her. She forced herself to give him a polite smile.
She must never let anyone suspect her true, most inner thoughts. She had her own objectives for being in Cordonia that had nothing to do with her parents’ mundane aspirations.
***
Maxwell Beaumont was concerned. He had summoned a demon and even though he had done it at the behest of his prince, the demon didn’t seem to care. She blamed him for trapping her and she blamed him for the enchanted cuff that suppressed most of her demonic powers.
It didn’t suppress the vampiric powers, something he was afraid Liam blamed him for, but honestly, how could he have known he was going to ensnare a demon that was part vampire? He’d never summoned one before. Demon summoning was frowned upon by the Sorcerer’s Guild and with good reason. It was unwise to draw the attention of a creature with almost unlimited powers. Especially creatures known to be cunning, ruthless, and fond of tormenting humans.
But her attention was focused on him now and he wasn’t sure he was going to survive it. His only solace was knowing that once the bargain they had struck was completed, he could banish her back to hell where she belonged.
Demons, like most creatures, could not travel between worlds at will and there were reasons that they had been shut off behind the dimensional doors between the mortal realm and the underworld. Reasons that were shrouded in antiquity, but he was absolutely certain that murdering humans was at the top of the list.
***
Drake watched the unspoken interactions from his spot near the door. To all outside observers, he was just Liam’s crown shield, his sworn sword. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. Being a spell breaker was exactly the same, except instead of stepping in front of a sword or a bullet, he would throw himself in front of a spell for him.
Not like it was any hardship. Shifters were naturally immune to most forms of magic. The same spell that would harm or even kill Liam would bounce harmlessly off of him. And he owed his very life to the prince. He had no idea what else he would even do with his life if not this.
He hadn’t seen another shifter since coming to live at the palace when he was still a small child. Liam had rescued him after his mother’s death and the royal family had provided food and shelter ever since. His loyalty to them was not in question.
And yet his eyes kept roaming back to the woman that made his blood heat. He’d never felt the same kind of draw to a human woman, and he had no experience with females of his own species so the effect she had on him was a new and intriguing development.
He understood why she was there, and he understood what she was, at least in theory.
He had received the same education Liam had and that included lessons with Rashad, the six-hundred-year-old elf that lived at the palace, sent there by Eleanor to teach Liam about the other half of his heritage.
They had been taught that demons were never to be trusted. They were too powerful and too unpredictable.
But she seemed so nice. She smelled like heaven and her touch was electric. The smile she gave him when she caught him staring sent unfamiliar sensations cascading through his body. His fingers twitched at his side as he remembered what her skin felt like.
It had to be a trick. There must be something he was missing. He would have to be very, very careful around her.
***
Liam watched the woman at his side as they finished their dinner. She gave the perfect appearance of being a noblewoman. Her manners were impeccable, her sense of humor was charming, and her intelligence was obvious. No one suspected she was anything other than human. Not even his father.
Constantine knew what Liam was of course. But even Helena believed him to be her own human child. Leo had no idea his younger brother was part elf. Oh, the common people had their theories, but the nobility ignored his dark hair and dark eyes that were in such sharp contrast to his alleged parents. His looks were chalked up to an Auvernese ancestor.
But the common people whispered. They whispered about the ethereal glow that sometimes surrounded him. They whispered about the crows that followed wherever he went. They whispered about magic and the joining of two royal lines, one human, one elven. They whispered that it was this alliance that had blessed Cordonia, allowing it to flourish even when neighboring countries struggled with drought or flooding, or poor crop yield. Cordonia never suffered. Elven magic infused their fields and apple orchards, and the royal coffers were never emptied no matter how extravagantly their king lived.
Elves of old had been worshiped in this region as gods and with good reason. Their magic could turn the tides of wars, famine, and pestilence. The sacred wood situated between the palace grounds and the Black Spire Mountains was home to a portal, a dimensional door. Part of the elven magic was the ability to cross such thresholds unimpeded. The fae had come and gone from Cordonia at will for as long as anyone could remember.
Liam Rys was not unsatisfied with his lot in life. Things could be a lot worse. He was a prince. He reaped all the benefits with little of the responsibilities. Born into two royal lines, he was heir to neither throne. He lived in a palace. He was wealthy. He was charming and handsome, and he always would be. He would never grow old, and sickness could not touch him. What more could he want?
Immortality for one. True immortality.
While he was immune to both age and disease, he could still be struck down by injury and that just wouldn’t do.
Which was why he had needed the demon. He just hadn’t expected the demon to look like her. His studies had led him to believe that demons were hideous creatures with horns and red skin. Instead, what Maxwell had caught in his summoning circle was a voluptuous, breathtaking woman.
Or at least she looked like a woman. She certainly felt like one. She certainly kissed like one.
The bargain they had struck insured she would help him complete the ceremony that would bestow immortality upon him. If he played his cards right, he would bed her before the next full moon because once the spell was accomplished, the dampening cuff would fall off her arm and then all bets were off. Maxwell would do his best to banish her back to hell and Riley would do her best to exact vengeance on him for summoning and binding her in the first place.
He supposed he should feel responsible for that, but he didn’t. The younger Lord Beaumont had been paid handsomely for his services. He had not been coerced into providing them. The consequences were his own issue to contend with. Liam wanted just two things, immortality, and god help him, he wanted to know what it felt like when she sank her fangs into his neck.
#trr au#the royal romance#the royal romance fanfic#trr#trr poly#dark elf#dark romance#liam rys#angelasscribbles#choices fic writers creations#cfwc fics of the week#drake walker#maxwell beaumont#hana lee#riley brooks#choices stories you play#trr fanfic#trr fandom#trr fanfiction#choices trr
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Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Jackson!Reader) - Chapter 12
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Here's a really, really long chapter, about 12K words! It wasn't planned either lmao, but I hope yall enjoy!
Love ya!
Leo keeps looking back. He half expects to see those nasty sun dragons toting a flying chariot with a screaming, magical sales woman throwing potions but nothing follows them.
Leo steers the dragon towards the southwest. Eventually, the smoke from the burning department store fades into the distance, but Leo doesn't relax until the suburbs of Chicago give way to snowy fields, and the sun begins to set.
"Good job, Festus," he pats the dragon's metal hide. "You did awesome."
The dragon shutters; gears popping and clicking in his neck.
Leo frowns, not liking the noises coming from the dragon. If the control disk is fading again – No, hopefully it's something minor. Something I can fix.
"I'll give you a tune-up next time we land," Leo promises. "You've earned some motor oil and Tabasco sauce."
Festus whirls his teeth, but even that sounds weak. He flies at a steady pace, his great wings angling to catch the wind, but he is carrying a heavy load. Two cages in his claws plus four people on his back — the more Leo thinks about it, the more worried he gets. Even metal dragons have limits.
"Leo." Piper pats his shoulder. "You feeling okay?"
"Yeah . . . not bad for a brainwashed zombie." He hopes he didn't look as embarrassed as he feels. "Thanks for saving us back there, beauty queen. If you hadn't talked me out of that spell —"
"Don't worry about it," Piper replies.
But Leo worries a lot. He feels terrible about how easily Medea had set him against his best friends.
What bothers him more is the news about his mom. Medea had seen the future down in the Underworld. That is how her patron, the woman in the black earthen robes, had come to the machine shop seven years ago to scare him, ruin his life. That's how his mother had died — because of something Leo might do someday. So in a weird way, even if his fire powers aren't to blame, Mom's death is still his fault.
When they'd left Medea in the exploding store, Leo had felt a little too good. He hopes she didn't make it out, and would go right back to the Fields of Punishment, where she belongs. Those feelings he isn't proud of either.
And if souls are coming back from the Underworld . . . is it possible Mom can be brought back?
He tries to put that aside. Medea may have been brought back to life, but she hadn't seemed quite human, with the hissing nails and the glowing head, and whatnot.
No, mom's passed on. Thinking like that is just gonna drive me nuts. Still, the thought keeps poking at Leo liken an echo of Medea's voice.
"We're going to have to put down soon," Leo warns his friends. "Couple more hours, maybe, to make sure Medea's not following us. I don't think Festus can fly much longer than that."
"Yeah," Piper agrees. "Coach Hedge probably wants to get out of his canary cage, too. Question is — where are we going?"
"The Bay Area," Leo guesses. His memories of the department store are fuzzy, but he seems to remember hearing that. "Didn't Medea say something about Oakland?"
Piper doesn't respond for so long, Leo wonders if he'd said something wrong.
"Piper's dad," Jason puts in. "Something's happened to your dad, right? He got lured into some kind of trap."
Piper lets out a shaky breath. "Look, Medea said you would both in the Bay Area. And besides . . . even if we went there, the Bay Area is huge! First we need to find Aeolus and drop off the storm spirits. Boreas said Aeolus was the only one who could tell us exactly where to go."
Leo grunts. "So how do we find Aeolus?"
Jason leans forward. "You mean you don't see it?" He points ahead of them, but Leo doesn't see anything except clouds and the lights of a few towns glowing in the dusk.
"What?" Leo asks.
"That . . . whatever it is," Jason said. "In the air."
Leo glances back. Piper looks just as confused as he is.
"Right," Leo says. "Could you be more specific on the 'whatever-it-is' part?"
"Like a vapor trail," Jason replies. "Except it's glowing. Really faint, but it's definitely there. We've been following it since Chicago, so I figured you saw it."
Leo shakes his head. "Maybe Festus can sense it. You think Aeolus made it?"
"Well, it's a magic trail in the wind," Jason says. "Aeolus is the wind god. I think he knows we've got prisoners for him. He's telling us where to fly."
"Or it's another trap," Piper replies.
Her tone worries (Y/n). She doesn't just sound nervous. She sounds broken with despair, like they'd already sealed their fate, and like it's her fault.
"Pipes, you all right?" he questions.
"Don't call me that."
"Okay, fine. You don't like any of the names I make up for you. But if your dad's in trouble and we can help —"
"You can't," she says, her voice getting shakier. "Look, I'm tired. If you don't mind . . ." She leans back against (Y/n) and closes her eyes.
All right, Leo thinks, pretty clear signal she didn't want to talk.
They fly in silence for a while. Festus seems to know where he is going. He keeps his course, gently curving toward the southwest and hopefully Aeolus's fortress. Another wind god to visit, a whole new flavor of crazy — Oh, boy, Leo can't wait.
He has way too much on his mind to sleep, but now that he is out of danger, his body has different ideas. His energy level is crashing. The monotonous beat of the dragon's wings make his eyes feel heavy. His head starts to nod.
"Catch a few Z's," Jason replies. "It's cool. Hand me the reins."
"Nah, I'm okay —"
"Leo," Jason replies, "you're not a machine. Besides, I'm the only one who can see the vapor trail. I'll make sure we stay on course."
Leo's eyes starts to close on their own. "All right. Maybe just . . ."
He doesn't finish the sentence before slumping forward against the dragon's warm neck.
. . .
Leo snaps awake to Jason, Piper, and (Y/n) screaming.
They spiral through the dark in a free fall, still on the dragon's back, but Festus's hide is cold. His ruby eyes are dim.
"Jason!" (Y/n) screams. "Take Piper and fly out of here!"
"What? What about you and Leo?"
"We need to lighten the load!" Leo yells. "I might be able to reboot Festus, but he's carrying too much weight!"
"What about you guys?" Piper cries. "If you can't reboot him —"
"We'll be fine," Leo replies. "Just follow me to the ground. Go!"
Jason grabs Piper around the waist. They both unbuckle their harnesses, and in a flash they are gone — shooting into the air.
"Now," Leo said. "Just you and me, Festus — and two heavy cages and (Y/n). You can do it, boy!"
Leo talks to the dragon while he works, falling at terminal velocity. He could see the city lights below him, getting closer and closer. He summons fire in his hand so he can see what he is doing, but the wind keeps extinguishing it. (Y/n) uncaps her pen, grabbing the blade with her hand, cutting into the flesh of her hand, but it keeps a steady light so Leo can see. He glances back, nodding gratefully at the light.
He pulls a wire that he thought connected the dragon's nerve center to its head, hoping for a little wake-up jolt.
Festus groans — metal creaking inside his neck. His eyes flicker weakly to life, and he spreads his wings. Their fall turns into a steep glide.
"Good!" Leo says. "Come on, big boy. Come on!"
They are still flying in way too hot, and the ground is too close. Leo needed a place to land — fast.
(Y/n) taps the tip of her pen, and the blade shrinks back down, and she grips the pen in her bleeding hand.
On the riverbanks, Leo spots a white mansion with a huge snowy lawn inside a tall brick perimeter fence – like some rich person's private compound, all of it blazing with light. A perfect landing field. He does his best to steer the dragon towards it and Festus seems to come back to life. We're gonna make this!
Then everything goes wrong. As they approach the lawn, spotlights along the fence fix on them, blinding Leo. He hears bursts like tracer fire, the sound of metal being cut to shreds – and BOOM!
. . .
When (Y/n) comes to her senses, Piper is leaning over her. (Y/n) is lying in snow, covered in mud, grease, and blood.
"Where –" (Y/n) rasps.
"Lie still," Piper's eyes flood with tears. "You guys rolled pretty hard when – when Festus –"
"Where is he?" Leo sits up, his head feeling like it is floating.
"Seriously, Leo," Jason says. "You could be hurt. You shouldn't –"
(Y/n) rolls onto her stomach, pushing herself up, and then her leg sags underneath her weight, and she collapses on her face in the mud.
"Hey, hey," Piper's tone is gentle. "I've got you. Jason, come help."
Two sets of hands pull (Y/n) to her feet, and her leg collapses under her, but Jason and Piper keep her supported.
"Go help Leo," (Y/n) glances at Jason. "Go."
Piper's arm wraps around (Y/n)'s waist, and then (Y/n) sees the wreckage.
Festus must have dropped the big canary cages, as he'd come over the fence, because they'd rolled in different directions and landed on their sides, perfectly undamaged.
The dragon had disintegrated. His limbs are scattered across the lawn. His tail hung on the fence. The main section of his body had plowed a trench twenty feet wide and fifty feet long across the mansion's yard before breaking apart. What remains of his hide is a charred, smoking pile of scraps. Only his neck and head are somewhat intact, resting across a row of frozen rosebushes like a pillow.
"No," Leo sobs. He runs to the dragon's head and stroked its snout. The dragon's eyes flicker weakly. Oil leaks out of his ear. "You can't go," Leo pleaded.
And (Y/n) gets sucked into a memory.
The Hephaestus cabin is out of Greek fire. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters are scrounging for arrows. Most of the demigods had already ingested so much ambrosia and nectar that they didn't dare take anymore.
Sixteen campers, fifteen Hunters, and half a dozen satyrs are left in fighting shape. The rest had taken refuge on Olympus. The Party Ponies try to form ranks, but they stagger and giggle and they all smell of root beer. The Texans are head-butting the Coloradoans; the Missouri branch is arguing with Illinois. The chances are pretty good the whole army would end up fighting each other, rather than the enemy.
Chiron trots up with Rachel on his back.
"Your girlfriend here has some useful insights, (Y/n)," he says.
Rachel blushes. "Just some things I saw in my head."
"A drakon," Chiron says. "A Lydian drakon, to be exact. The oldest and most dangerous kind."
(Y/n) stares at her. "How did you know that?"
"I'm not sure," Rachel admits. "But this drakon has a particular fate. It will be killed by a child of Ares."
Annabeth crosses her arms. "How can you possibly know that?"
"I just saw it. I can't explain."
"Well, let's hope you're wrong," Percy replies. "Because we're a little short on children of Ares . . ." A horrible thought occurs to Percy, and he curses in Ancient Greek.
"What?" Annabeth asks.
"The spy," Percy tells her. "Kronos said, 'We know they cannot beat this drakon.' The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn't with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can't kill."
Thalia scowls. "If I ever catch your spy, he's going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp —"
"I've already done it," Chiron replies. "Blackjack is on his way. But if Silena wasn't able to convince Clarisse, I doubt Blackjack will be able —"
A roar shakes the ground. It sounds very close.
"Rachel," (Y/n) says, "get inside the building. Please."
"I want to stay."
A shadow blots out the sun. Across the street, the drakon slithers down the side of a skyscraper. It roars, and a thousand windows shattered.
"On second thought," Rachel says in a small voice, "I'll be inside." Then she meets (Y/n)'s gaze. "Please be careful."
. . .
Clarisse's chariots circle the drakon. Lances break against the monster's skin. Skeletal horses breathe fire and whine. Two more chariots overturn, but the warriors simply leap to their feet, draw their swords, and go to work. They hack at chinks in the creature's scales. They dodge poison spray like they'd been training for this all their lives, which of course they had.
No one can say that the Ares campers aren't brave – Clarisse is right up front, stabbing her spear at the drakon's face, trying to put out its other eyes. But as (Y/n) watches, things start to go wrong. The drakon snaps up an Ares camper in a gulp, knocks aside another, and sprays poison on a third, who retreats in a panic, his armor melting.
"We have to help," Annabeth says.
She is right. (Y/n) and Percy had just been standing there frozen in amazement. Mrs. O'Leary tries to get up but yelps again. One of her paws is bleeding.
"Stay back, girl," (Y/n) tells her. "You've done enough already."
Annabeth, (Y/n), and Percy jump onto the monster's back and run toward its head, trying to draw its attention away from Clarisse.
Her cabinmates throw javelins, most of which break, but some lodge in the monster's teeth. It snaps its jaws together until its mouth is a mess of green blood, yellow foamy poison, and splintered weapons.
"You can do it!" (Y/n) encourages Clarisse. "A child of Ares is destined to kill it!"
Through her war helmet, (Y/n) can only see her eyes — but she can tell something was wrong. Her blue eyes shine with fear. Clarisse never looked like that. And she didn't have blue eyes.
"ARES!" she shouts in that strangely shrill voice. She levels her spear and charges the drakon.
"No," (Y/n) mutters. "WAIT!"
But the monster looks down at her – almost in contempt – and spits poison directly in her face.
She screamed and fell.
"Clarisse!" Annabeth jumps off the monster's back and runs to help, while the other Ares campers try to defend their fallen counselor. (Y/n) drives Tsunami between two of the creature's scales and manages to turn its attention on her.
(Y/n) gets thrown but she lands on her feet. "C'MON, you stupid worm! Look at me!"
For the next several minutes, all she sees are teeth. (Y/n) retreats and dodges poison, but she can't hurt the thing.
At the edge of her vision, (Y/n) sees a flying chariot land on Fifth Avenue.
Then someone runs toward them. A girl's voice, shaken with grief, cries, "NO! Curse you, WHY?"
(Y/n) dares to glance over, but what she sees makes no sense. Clarisse is lying on the ground where she'd fallen, her armor smoking with poison. Annabeth and the Ares campers are trying to unfasten her helmet. And kneeling next to them, her face blotchy with tears, is a girl in camp clothes. It's . . . Clarisse.
(Y/n)'s head spins. Why hadn't I noticed before. The girl in Clarise's armor is much thinner, not as tall. But why would someone pretend to be Clarisse?
(Y/n) is so stunned, the drakon almost snaps her in half. She dodges and the beast buries its head in a brick wall.
"WHY?" the real Clarisse demands, holding the other girl in her arms while the campers struggle to remove teh poison-corroded helmet.
Chris Rodriguez runs over from the flying chariot. He and Clarisse must've ridden it from camp, chasing the Ares campers, who'd mistakenly been following the other girl, thinking she was Clarisse. But it still makes no sense.
The drakon tugs its head from the brick wall and screams in rage.
"Look out!" Chris warns.
Instead of turning towards her, the drakon whirls toward the sound of Chris's voice. It bares its fangs at the group of demigods.
The real Clarisse looks up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate.
Percy had seen a look that intense only once before. Her father, Ares, had worn the same expression when Percy'd fought him in single combat.
"YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screams at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!"
She grabs her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charges the drakon.
(Y/n) tries to close the distance to help, but Clarisse is faster. She leaps aside as the monster struck, pulverizing the ground in front of her. Then she jumps onto the creature's head. As it rears up, she drives her electric spear into its good eye with so much force it shatters the shaft, releasing all of the magic weapon's power.
Electricity arcs across the creature's head, causing its whole body to shudder. Clarisse jumps free, rolling safely to the sidewalk as smoke boils from the drakon's mouth. The drakon's flesh dissolves, and it collapses into a hollow, scaly, tunnel of armor.
The rest of the demigods stare at Clarisse in awe. (Y/n) had never seen anyone take down such a huge monster single-handedly. But Clarisse doesn't seem to care. She runs back to the wounded girl who'd stolen her armor.
Finally, Annabeth manages to remove the girl's helmet. They all gather around: the Ares campers, Chris, Clarisse, Annabeth, Percy, and (Y/n). The battle rages along Fifth Avenue, but for that moment nothing exists but the small circle around the wounded girl.
Her features, once beautiful, are badly burned from poison. (Y/n) can tell that no amount of nectar or ambrosia would save her.
Something is about to happen. Rachel's words ring in (Y/n)'s ears. A trick that ends in death. Now I knew what she meant, and I knew who had led the Ares cabin into battle.
(Y/n) looks down at the dying face of Silena Beauregard.
"You're the best thing I ever fixed." Leo wails.
The dragon's head whirs its gears, as if he's purring. Jason, Piper, and (Y/n) stand next to Leo, but Leo keeps his eyes fixed on his dragon.
He remembers what Hephaestus had said: That isn't your fault, Leo. Nothing lasts forever, not even the best machines. His dad had been trying to warn him.
"It's not fair," he says. His dad had been trying to warn him. "It's not fair," he repeats.
The dragon clicks. Long creak. Two short clicks. Creak. Creak. Almost like a pattern . . . triggering an old memory in Leo's mind. Leo realizes Festus is trying to say something. He's using Morse code — just like Leo's mom had taught him years ago. Leo listens more intently, translating the clicks into letters: a simple message repeating over and over.
"Yeah," Leo said. "I understand. I will. I promise."
The dragon's eyes go dark. Festus is gone.
Leo cries. He isn't even embarrassed. His friends stand on either side, patting his shoulders, saying comforting things; but the buzzing in Leo's ears drowns out their words.
Finally Jason says, "I'm so sorry, man. What did you promise Festus?"
Leo sniffs. He opens the dragon's head panel, just to be sure, but the control disk is cracked and burned beyond repair.
"Something my dad told me," Leo replies. "Everything can be reused."
"Your dad talked to you?" Jason asks. "When was this?"
Leo doesn't answer. He works at the dragon's neck hinges until the head is detached. It weighs about a hundred pounds, but Leo manages to hold it in his arms. He looks up at the starry sky and says, "Take him back to the bunker, Dad. Please, until I can reuse him. I've never asked you for anything." The wind picks up, and the dragon's head floats out of Leo's arms like it weighs nothing. It flies into the sky and disappears.
Piper looks at him in amazement. "He answered you?"
"I had a dream," Leo manages. "Tell you later." He knows he owes his friends a better explanation, but Leo can barely speak. He feels like a broken machine himself – like someone had removed one little part of him, and now he'd never be complete. He might move, he might talk, he might keep going and do his job, but he'd always be off balance, never calibrated exactly right.
Still, he can't afford to break down completely. Otherwise, Festus had died for nothing. He has to finish this quest – for his friends, for his mom, for his dragon.
He looks around. The large white mansion glows in the center of the grounds. Tall brick walls with lights and security cameras surround the perimeter, but now Leo can see — or rather sense — just how well those walls are defended.
"Where are we?" he asks. "I mean, what city?"
"Omaha, Nebraska," Piper replies. "I saw a billboard as we flew in. But I don't know what this mansion is. We came in right behind you, but as you guys were landing, Leo, I swear it looked like — I don't know —"
"Lasers," Leo replies. He picks up a piece of dragon wreckage and throws it toward the top of the fence. Immediately a turret pops up from the brick wall and a beam of pure heat incinerated the bronze plating to ashes.
Jason whistles. "Some defense system. How are we even alive?"
"Festus," Leo says miserably. "He took the fire. The lasers sliced him to bits as he came in so they didn't focus on you. I led him into a death trap."
"You couldn't have known," Piper says. "He saved our lives again."
"But what now?" Jason asks. "The main gates are locked, and I'm guessing I can't fly us out of here without getting shot down."
Leo looks up the walkway at the big white mansion. "Since we can't go out, we'll have to go in."
. . .
The other three demigods would've died five times on the way to the front door if not for Leo.
First it's the motion-activated trapdoor on the sidewalk, then the lasers on the steps, then the nerve gas dispenser on the porch railing, the pressure-sensitive poison spikes in the welcome mat, and of course the exploding doorbell.
Leo deactivates all of them – almost like he could smell the traps, and he picks just the right tool out of his belt to disable them.
"You're amazing, man," Jason says.
Leo scowls as he examines the front door lock. ''Yeah, amazing," he said. "Can't fix a dragon right, but I'm amazing."
"Hey, that wasn't your —"
"Front door's already unlocked," Leo interrupts.
Piper stares at the door in disbelief. "It is? All those traps, and the door's unlocked?"
Leo turns the knob. The door swings open easily. He steps inside without hesitation.
Before Jason can follow, Piper catches his arm with her free hand. "He's going to need some time to get over Festus. Don't take it personally."
"Yeah," Jason replies. "Yeah, okay."
But still he feels terrible.
"Piper," he begins, "I know I was in a daze back in Chicago, but that stuff about your dad — if he's in trouble, I want to help. I don't care if it's a trap or not."
Her eyes are always different colors, but now they look shattered, as if she'd seen something she just couldn't cope with. "Jason, you don't know what you're saying. Please — don't make me feel worse. Come on. We should stick together."
She helps (Y/n) inside.
"Together," Jason says to himself. "Yeah, we're doing great with that."
. . .
Jason's first impression of the house: Dark.
From the echo of his footsteps, he can tell the entry hall is enormous, even bigger than Boreas's penthouse; but the only illumination comes from the yard lights outside. A faint glow peaks through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. The windows rise about ten feet tall, spaced between the walls are life-size metal statues. As Jason's eyes adjust, he sees sofas arranged in a U in the middle of the room, with a central coffee table and one large chair at the far end. A massive chandelier glints overhead. Along the back wall stands a row of closed doors.
"Where's the light switch?" His voice echoes alarmingly through the room.
"Don't see one," Leo replies.
"Fire?" Piper suggests.
Leo holds out his hand, but nothing happens. "It's not working."
"Your fire is out? Why?" Piper asks.
"Well, if I knew that —"
"Okay, okay," she says. "What do we do — explore?"
Leo shakes his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."
Jason's skin tingles. He hates being a demigod. Looking around, he doesn't see a comfortable room to hang out in. He imagines vicious storm spirits lurking in the curtains, dragons under the carpet, a chandelier made of lethal ice shards, ready to impale them.
"Leo's right," Jason says. "We're not separating again — not like in Detroit."
"Oh, thank you for reminding me of the Cyclopes." Piper's voice quavers. "I needed that."
"It's a few hours until dawn," Jason guesses. "Too cold to wait outside. Let's bring the cages in and make camp in this room. Wait for daylight; then we can decide what to do."
Nobody offers a better idea, so Piper helps (Y/n) settle on the floor, and they roll the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits.
(Y/n) rummages through her backpack to find a baggie of pastries like lemon barns. She breaks one in half, and nibbles off the corner.
Piper settles down next to (Y/n) against the wall.
"What does it taste like for you?" Piper asks.
"My mom's homemade blue chocolate chip cookies," (Y/n) replies, taking another bite of the pastry square.
"Blue?" Piper asks, taking a bite of a peanut butter Ritz cracker.
(Y/n) smiles slightly. "I'm pretty sure it was some sort of dig at my ex-stepfather." Piper tilts her head in curiosity. "He, was not a very nice dude. He was –" she pauses.
"Abusive?" Piper asks gently.
(Y/n) glances back over at Piper. "How'd –"
"I was trying to break you from Medea's spell," Piper glances down into her lap, not wanting to meet (Y/n)'s gaze. "I raised my hand, and you flinched, like you'd been hit before."
(Y/n) sighs, taking another bite from the ambrosia, feeling the godly food starting to repair her leg. Then she nods. "My mom was only ever with him to protect me," she says.
"How?"
"I'm pretty sure it was the smell," (Y/n) fiddles with Tsunami, who'd appeared back in her pocket. "Perc and I didn't call him Smelly Gabe for nothing. Mom explained it was because he was incredibly mortal, that he could, like, mask our smell." Piper just sits and listens, and (Y/n) doesn't know if anyone had ever listened to her like Piper was listening to her now – just letting her talk without interrupting. "What're you doing?" she asks, bewildered.
"I'm listening," Piper replies. "Go on," she smiles slightly.
That's nice, (Y/n) thinks, grinning at Piper. "Apparently, we demigods smell. Like really bad." Piper laughs. "Especially us Big Three kids, it's worse. My friend Grover says we smell like –" she falters.
"The sea," Piper finishes, and (Y/n) nods. And then she yawns, leaning her head against the wall. "You must be tired," Piper says. "Did you even sleep in the sewer last night?" (Y/n) glances over at Piper, and smiles sheepishly. "Sleep, oh my gods," Piper says with exasperation, though she looks amused. "Come on, now," she pats her lap, and (Y/n) lies down, resting her head in Piper's lap.
The top boulder is twenty feet tall, and really hard to climb, so the flag is clearly visible, like the rules said it had to be, and it didn't matter that the guards weren't allowed to stand within ten yards of it.
Percy sets Nico on guard duty with Beckendorf and the Stoll brothers, figuring he'd be safely out of the way.
"We'll send out a decoy to the left," Thalia tells the team. "Selina, you lead that."
"Got it!"
"Take Laurel and Jason. They're good runners. Make a wide arc around the Hunters, attract as many as you can. I'll take the main raiding party around to the right and catch them by surprise." She glances at (Y/n), who had been leaning on her shield, looking bored. Catching Thalia's look however, she nods.
"I got you," (Y/n) nods.
Thalia looks at Percy. "Anything to add, Percy?"
"Urn, yeah. Keep sharp on defense. We've got four guards, two scouts. That's not much for a big forest. I'll be roving. Yell if you need help."
"And don't leave your post!" Thalia says.
"Unless you see a golden opportunity," Percy adds.
Thalia scowls. "Just don't leave your post."
"Right, unless —" Percy says, and (Y/n) laughs.
"Percy!" Thalia touches his arm and shocks Percy. "Sorry," Thalia says, though she doesn't sound particularly sorry. "Now, is everybody clear?"
Everybody nods. We break into our smaller groups. The horn sounds, and the game begins.
. . .
Percy is two feet from the water when Zoe bolts across to her own side, slamming into him for good measure. The Hunters cheer as both sides converge on the creek. Chiron appears out of the woods, looking grim. He has the Stoll brothers on his back, and it looks as if both of them had taken some nasty whacks to the head. Connor Stoll has two arrows sticking out of his helmet like antennae.
"The Hunters win!" Chiron announces without pleasure. Then he mutters, "For the fifty-sixth time in a row."
"Perseus Jackson!" Thalia yells, storming toward me. She smells like rotten eggs, and she is so mad that blue sparks flicker on her armor. Everybody cringes and backs up because of Aegis. It takes all his willpower not to cower. "What in the name of the gods were you THINKING?" she bellows.
Percy balls his fists. "I got the flag, Thalia!" He shakes it in her face. "I saw a chance and I took it!"
"WE WERE AT THEIR BASE!" Thalia yells. "But the flag was gone. If you hadn't butted in, we would've won."
"You had too many on you!"
"So it's my fault we lost!"
"I didn't say that."
"Argh!" Thalia shoves Percy, and a shock goes through his body that blows him backward ten feet into the water. Some of the campers gasp. A couple of the Hunters stifle laughs.
"Sorry!" Thalia says, turning pale. "I didn't mean to—"
Anger roars in my ears. A wave erupts from the creek, blasting into Thalia's face and dousing her from head to toe.
Percy stands up. "Yeah. I didn't mean to, either."
Thalia is breathing heavily.
"Enough!" Chiron orders.
But Thalia holds out her spear. "You want some, Seaweed Brain?"
"Bring it on, Pinecone Face!"
Percy raises Riptide, but before he can even defend himself, Thalia yells, and a blast of lightning comes down from the sky, hits her spear like a lightning rod, and slams into his chest.
Percy suits down hard, and (Y/n) runs over to him, jumping over the rocks and into the riverbed. There is a burning smell; and (Y/n) has a feeling it's Percy's clothes.
"Thalia!" Chiron says. "That is enough!"
(Y/n) helps Percy to his feet and the Son of Poseidon wills the entire creek to rise. It swirls up, hundreds of gallons of water in a massive icy funnel cloud.
"Percy!" Chiron pleads.
. . .
"Ahhhggggggh!"
(Y/n) leaps to his feet, thankfully her leg had completely healed overnight. She isn't sure what is more jarring — the full sunlight that now bathes the room, or the screaming satyr.
"Coach is awake," Leo says, which was kind of unnecessary. Gleeson Hedge is capering around on his furry hindquarters, swinging his club and yelling, "Die!" as he smashes the tea set, whacks the sofas, and charges at the throne.
"Coach!" Jason yells.
Hedge turns, breathing hard. His eyes are so wild, Jason is afraid he might attack. The satyr is still wearing his orange polo shirt and his coach's whistle, but his horns are clearly visible above his curly hair, and his beefy hindquarters are definitely all goat. Could you call a goat beefy? Jason puts the thought aside.
"You're the new kid," Hedge says, lowering his club. "Jason." He looks at Leo, then Piper, who'd apparently also just woken up. Her hair looks like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster.
"Valdez, McLean, Jackson" the coach says. "What's going on? We were at the Grand Canyon. The anemoi thuellai were attacking and —" He zeroes in on the storm spirit cage, and his eyes go back to DEFCON 1. "Die!"
"Whoa, Coach!" Leo steps in his path, which (Y/n) thinks is pretty brave, even though Hedge was six inches shorter. "It's okay. They're locked up. We just sprang you from the other cage."
"Cage? Cage? What's going on? Just because I'm a satyr doesn't mean I can't have you doing plank push-ups, Valdez!"
Jason clears his throat. "Coach — Gleeson — urn, whatever you want us to call you. You saved us at the Grand Canyon. You were totally brave."
"Of course I was!"
"The extraction team came and took us to Camp Half-Blood. We thought we'd lost you. Then we got word the storm spirits had taken you back to their — um, operator, Medea."
"That witch! Wait — that's impossible. She's mortal. She's dead."
"Yeah, well," Leo says, "somehow she got not dead anymore."
Hedge nods, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"
"Urn." Piper gets to her feet, holding out her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Glee — can I still call you Coach Hedge? Gleeson seems wrong. We're on a quest for something else. We kind of found you by accident."
"Oh." The coach's spirits seem to deflate, but only for a second. Then his eyes light up again. "But there are no accidents! Not on quests. This was meant to happen! So, this is the witch's lair, eh? Why is everything gold?"
"Gold?" Jason looks around. From the way Leo, (Y/n), and Piper catch their breath, he guesses they hadn't noticed the throne either.
The room is full of gold — the statues, the tea set Hedge had smashed, the chair that is definitely a throne. Even the curtains — which seems to have opened by themselves at daybreak — appear to be woven of gold fiber.
"Nice," Leo says. "No wonder they got so much security."
"This isn't —" Piper stammers. "This isn't Medea's place, Coach. It's some rich person's mansion in Omaha. We got away from Medea and crash-landed here."
"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Hedge insists. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"
Before Jason can decide if he wants to explain or just shove Coach Hedge back into his cage, a door opens at the far end of the room.
A pudgy man in a white bathrobe steps out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He has a white beard and one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. He freezes when he sees them, and the toothbrush falls out of his mouth.
He glances into the room behind him and calls, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room."
Coach Hedge does the obvious thing. He raises his club and shouts, "Die!"
It takes all four of them to hold back the satyr. "Whoa, Coach!" Jason sats. "Bring it down a few notches." A younger man charges into the room. Jason guesses he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He is dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that says Cornhuskers, and he holds a sword that looks like it can husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms are covered in scars – not unlike (Y/n)'s – and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.
Lit immediately zeroes in on Jason like he is the biggest threat, and stalks toward him, swinging his sword overhead.
"Hold on!" Piper steps forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine." Lit stops in his tracks, but he still looks wary. It doesn't help that Hedge is screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"
"Coach," Jason pleads, "they may be friendly. Besides, we're trespassing in their house."
"Thank you!" says the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"
"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper says. "Coach, you first."
Hedge clenches his jaw. "Just one thwack?"
"No," Piper says.
"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."
"No!" Piper insists.
"Meh." Coach Hedge lowers his club.
Piper gives Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile. Even with her hair messed up and wearing two-day-old clothes, she looks extremely cute, and (Y/n) feels a little jealous she is giving Lit that smile.
Lit huffs and sheaths his sword. "You speak well, girl — fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."
"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."
The old man in the bathrobe sighs, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."
Lit frowns. "Your Majesty—"
"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man says. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He does his best to smile, though it looks a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."
"Midas? Impossible," says Coach Hedge. "He died."
They are sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclines on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Jason keeps worrying the old guy would forget and uncross his legs. Hopefully he's wearing golden boxers under there.
Lit stands behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and flexing his muscular arms just to be annoying. (Y/n) wonders if she looked that ripped holding a sword. Sadly, she doubts it.
Piper sits forward. "What our satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be — sorry — dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."
"Interesting." The king gazes out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looks like a cluster of children's blocks — way too clean and small for a regular city.
"You know," the king says, "I think I was a bit dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"
"A very long dream, Your Majesty."
"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."
"But how?" Piper asks. "You didn't happen to have a . . . patron?"
Midas hesitates, but there is a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"
"We could kill them again," Hedge suggests.
"Coach, not helping," Jason says. "Why don't you go outside and stand guard?"
Leo coughs. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."
"Oh, yes," the king replies. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!" He fishes a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and presses a few buttons — a pass code, Jason guesses.
"There," Midas says. "Safe to go out now."
Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me . . ." He winks at Jason meaningfully. Then he points at himself, points two fingers at their hosts, and slices a finger across his throat. Very subtle sign language. "Yeah, thanks," Jason says.
After the satyr leaves, Piper tries another diplomatic smile. "So . . . you don't know how you got here?"
"Oh, well, yes. Sort of," the king replies. He frowns at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."
"The oracle," Lit said.
"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugs. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit — it's short for Lityerses, by the way — horrible name, but his mother insisted — Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."
"Oh." Piper tries to sound enthusiastic. "How nice."
Lit's smile is more of a cruel sneer. (Y/n) is now one hundred percent sure he didn't like this guy, and Jason is starting to regret sending Hedge outside.
"So," Jason says. "All this gold —"
The king's eyes light up. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!"
Jason looks at the brochures on the coffee table. The title says GOLD: Invest for Eternity. "Urn, you sell gold?"
"No, no," the king says. "I make it. In uncertain times like these, gold is the wisest investment, don't you think? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value!"
Leo frowns. "I've seen that commercial."
"Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators!" the king says. "I assure you, I can beat any price fora serious investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."
"But..." Piper shakes her head in confusion. "Your Majesty, you gave up the golden touch, didn't you?"
The king looks astonished. "Gave it up?"
"Yeah," Piper says. "You got it from some god —''
"Dionysus," the king agrees. "I'd rescued one of his satyrs, and in return, the god granted me one wish. I chose the golden touch."
"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper remembers. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."
"Repented!" King Midas looks at Lit incredulously. "You see, son? You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl, did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"
"Well, I guess not. They just said you learned how to reverse it with running water, and you brought your daughter back to life."
"That's all true. Sometimes I still have to reverse my touch. There's no running water in the house because I don't want accidents" — he gestures to his statues — "but we chose to live next to a river just in case. Occasionally, I'll forget and pat Lit on the back —"
Lit retreats a few steps. "I hate that."
"I told you I was sorry, son. At any rate, gold is wonderful. Why would I give it up?"
"Well..." Piper looks truly lost now. "Isn't that the point of the story? That you learned your lesson?"
Midas laughs. "My dear, may I see your backpack for a moment? Toss it here."
Piper hesitates, but she isn't eager to offend the king. She dumps everything out of the pack and tosses it to Midas. As soon as he caught it, the pack turns to gold, like frost spreading across the fabric. It still looks flexible and soft, but definitely gold. The king tosses it back.
"As you see, I can still turn anything to gold," Midas says. "That pack is magic now, as well. Go ahead — put your little storm spirit enemies in there."
"Seriously?" Leo is suddenly interested. He takes the bag from Piper and holds it up to the cage. As soon as he unzips the backpack, the winds stir and howl in protest. The cage bars shudder . The door of the prison flies open and the winds get vacuumed straight into the pack. Leo zips it shut and grins. "Gotta admit. That's cool."
"You see?" Midas says. "My golden touch a curse ? Please. I didn't learn any lesson, and life isn't a story, girl. Honestly, my daughter Zoe was much more pleasant as a gold statue."
"She talked a lot," Lit offers.
"Exactly! And so I turned her back to gold." Midas points. There in the corner is a golden statue of a girl with a shocked expression, as if she were thinking, Dad!
"That's horrible!" Piper says.
"Nonsense. She doesn't mind. Besides, if I'd learned my lesson, would I have gotten these?"
Midas pulls off his oversize sleeping cap, and Jason doesn't know whether to laugh or get sick. Midas has long fuzzy gray ears sticking up from his white hair — like Bugs Bunny's, but they aren't rabbit ears. They are donkey ears.
"Oh, wow," Leo says. "I didn't need to see that."
"Terrible, isn't it?" Midas sighs. "A few years after the golden touch incident, I judged a music contest between Apollo and Pan, and I declared Pan the winner. Apollo, sore loser, said I must have the ears of an ass, and voila. This was my reward for being truthful. I tried to keep them a secret. Only my barber knew, but he couldn't help blabbing." Midas pointed out another golden statue — a bald man in a toga, holding a pair of shears. "That's him. He won't be telling anyone's secrets again." The king smiles, and suddenly, he doesn't strike Jason as a harmless old man in a bathrobe. His eyes have a merry glow to the – the look of a madman who knows he's mad, accepted his madness, and enjoyed it. "Yes, gold has many uses. I think that must be why I was brought back, eh Lit? To bankroll our patron."
Lit nods. "That and my good sword arm."
Jason glances at his friends. Suddenly the air in the room seems much colder.
"So you do have a patron," Jason says. "You work for the giants."
King Midas waves his hand dismissively. "Well, I don't care for giants myself, of course. But even supernatural armies need to get paid. I do owe my patron a great debt. I tried to explain that to the last group that came through, but they were very unfriendly. Wouldn't cooperate at all."
Jason slips his hand into his pocket and grabs his gold coin. "The last group?"
"Hunters," Lit snarls. "Blasted girls from Artemis."
Jason feels a spark of electricity — a literal spark — travel down his spine. He catches a whiff of electrical fire like he'd just melted some of the springs in the sofa.
His sister had been here.
"When?" he demands. "What happened?"
Lit shrugs. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail, heading west. Missing demigod — I don't recall."
Percy Jackson – (Y/n)'s missing brother, Jason thinks. Annabeth had mentioned the Hunters were looking for him. And in Jason's dream of the burned-out house in the redwoods, he'd heard enemy wolves baying. Hera had called them her keepers. It has to be connected somehow.
Midas scratches his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalls. "They absolutely refused to be turned into gold. Much of the security system outside I installed to keep that sort of thing from happening again, you know. I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."
Jason stands warily and glances at his friends. They got the message.
"Well," Piper says, managing a smile. "It's been a great visit. Welcome back to life. Thanks for the gold bag."
"Oh, but you can't leave!" Midas replies. "I know you're not serious investors, but that's all right! I have to rebuild my collection."
Lit is smiling cruelly. The king rises, and Leo, (Y/n), and Piper move away from him.
"Don't worry," the king assures them. "You don't have to be turned to gold. I give all my guests a choice — join my collection, or die at the hands of Lityerses. Really, it's good either way."
Piper tries to use her charmspeak. "Your Majesty, you can't —"
Quicker than any old man should've been able to move, Midas lashes out and grabs her wrist.
"No!" Jason yells.
Gold frost spreads over Piper, and, in a heartbeat, she is a glittering statue. Leo tries to summon fire, but he'd forgotten his power wasn't working. Midas touches his hand, and Leo transforms into solid metal. (Y/n) stands, stunned, and can't move, and Midas touches her shoulder, and gold spreads across her body.
Jason is so horrified he can't move. His friends – just gone. And he'd been unable to stop it.
Midas smiles apologetically. "Gold trumps fire, I'm afraid." He waves around him at all the gold curtains and furniture. "In this room, my power dampens all others: fire . . . even charmspeak. Which leaves me only one more trophy to collect."
"Hedge!" Jason yells. "Need help in here!"
For once, the satyr doesn't charge in. Jason wonders if the lasers had gotten him, or if he is sitting at the bottom of a trap pit.
Midas chuckles. "No goat to the rescue? Sad. But don't worry, my boy. It's really not painful. Lit can tell you."
Jason fixes on an idea. "I choose combat. You said I could choose to fight Lit instead."
Midas looks mildly disappointed, but he shrugs. "I said you could die fighting Lit. But of course, if you wish."
The king backs away, and Lit raises his sword.
"I'm going to enjoy this," Lit grins. "I am the Reaper of Men!"
"Come on, Cornhusker." Jason summons his own weapon. This time it comes up as a javelin, and Jason is glad for the extra length.
"Oh, gold weapon!" Midas says. "Very nice."
Lit charges.
. . .
Piper wakes up cold and shivering.
She has the worst dream about an old guy with donkey ears chasing her around and shouting, You're it!
"Oh, god." Her teeth chatter. "He turned me to gold!"
"You're okay now." (Y/n) leans over and tucks a warm blanket around her, but she still feels as cold as a Boread.
She blinks, trying to figure out where they are. Next to her, a campfire blazed, turning the air sharp with smoke.
Firelight flickers against rock walls. They are in a shallow cave, but it doesn't offer much protection. Outside, the wind howls. Snow blows sideways. It could've been day or night. The storm makes it too dark to tell.
"L-L-Leo?" Piper manages, her teeth chattering.
"Present and un-gold-ified." Leo is also wrapped in blankets. He doesn't look great, but better than Piper feels. "I got the precious metal treatment too," he says. "But I came out of it faster. Dunno why. We had to dunk you in the river to get you back completely. Tried to dry you off, but . . . it's really, really cold."
"You've got hypothermia," (Y/n) tells Piper. "We risked as much nectar as we could. Coach Hedge did a little nature magic —"
"Sports medicine." The coach's ugly face looms over her. "Kind of a hobby of mine. Your breath might smell like wild mushrooms and Gatorade for a few days, but it'll pass. You probably won't die. Probably."
"Thanks," Piper says weakly. "How did you beat Midas?"
Jason tells her the story, putting most of it down to luck.
The coach snorts. "Kid's being modest. You should've seen him. Hi-yah! Slice! Boom with the lightning!"
"Coach, you didn't even see it," Jason replies, rolling his eyes. "You were outside eating the lawn."
But the satyr is just warming up. "Then I came in with my club, and we dominated that room. Afterward, I told him, 'Kid, I'm proud of you! If you could just work on your upper body strength —'"
"Coach," said Jason.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up, please."
"Sure." The coach sits down at the fire and starts chewing his cudgel.
(Y/n) put her hand on Piper's forehead and checks her temperature. "Leo, can you stoke the fire?"
"On it." Leo summons a baseball-sized clump of flames and lobs it into the campfire.
"Do I look that bad?" Piper shivers.
"Nah," (Y/n) replies.
"You're a terrible liar," Piper says. "Where are we?"
"Pikes Peak," Jason replies. "Colorado."
"But that's, what – five hundred miles from Omaha?" Piper's eyes widen slightly.
"Something like that," Jason agrees. "I harnessed the storm spirits to bring us this far. They didn't like that – went a little faster than I wanted, almost crashed us into the mountainside before I could get them back in the bag. I'm not going to be trying that again."
"Why are we here though?" Piper asks.
Leo sniffs. "That's what I asked him."
Jason glances into the storm as if watching for something. "That glittery wind trail we saw yesterday? It was still in the sky, though it had faded a lot. I followed it until I couldn't see it anymore. Then — honestly I'm not sure. I just felt like this was the right place to stop."
"'Course it is." Coach Hedge spits out some cudgel splinters. "Aeolus's floating palace should be anchored above us, right at the peak. This is one of his favorite spots to dock."
"Maybe that was it." Jason knits his eyebrows. "I don't know. Something else, too . . ."
"The Hunters were heading west," Piper remembers. "Do you think they're around here?"
Jason rubs his forearm as if the tattoos are bothering him. "I don't see how anyone could survive on the mountain right now. The storm's pretty bad. It's already the evening before the solstice, but we didn't have much choice except to wait out the storm here. We had to give you some time to rest before we tried moving." He doesn't need to convince her. The wind howling outside the cave scares her, and she can't stop shivering.
"Jace," (Y/n) says, and Jason looks up to meet her sea-green gaze. "I've known Thalia and the Hunters for years. I promise you, that they'll be fine." Then she sees Piper shivering beside her. "We have to get you warm." She holds out her arms a little awkwardly. "Uh, you mind if I . . ."
"I suppose." Piper tries to sound nonchalant, though her stomach erupts with butterflies. She puts her arms around her and holds her. They scoot closer to the fire; Coach Hedge chews on his club and spits splinters into the fire.
Leo breaks out some cooking supplies and starts frying burger patties on an iron skillet. "So, guys, long as you're cuddled up for story time . . . something I've been meaning to tell you. On the way to Omaha, I had this dream. Kinda hard to understand with the static and the Wheel of Fortune breaking in —"
"Wheel of Fortune?" Piper assumes Leo is kidding, but when he looks up from his burgers, his expression was deadly serious.
"The thing is," Leo says, "my dad Hephaestus talked to me."
Leo tells them about his dream. In the firelight, with the wind howling, the story is even creepier. Piper can imagine the static-filled voice of the god warning about giants who were the sons of Tartarus, and about Leo losing some friends along the way. And she had noticed the quick looks exchanged between Leo, Jason, and (Y/n). Wonder what that's about.
Piper tries to concentrate on something good: (Y/n)'s arms around her, the warmth slowly spreading into her body, but she is terrified. "I don't understand. If demigods and gods have to work together to kill the giants, why would the gods stay silent? If they need us —"
"Ha," says Coach Hedge. "The gods hate needing humans. They like to be needed by humans, but not the other way around. Things will have to get a whole lot worse before Zeus admits he made a mistake closing Olympus."
"Coach," Piper says, "that was almost an intelligent comment." (Y/n) laughs.
Hedge huffs. "What? I'm intelligent! I'm not surprised you cupcakes haven't heard about the Giant War. The gods don't like to talk about it. Bad PR to admit you needed mortals to help beat an enemy. That's just embarrassing."
"There's more, though," Jason adds. "When I dreamed about Hera in her cage, she said Zeus was acting unusually paranoid. And Hera — she said she went to those ruins because a voice had been speaking in her head. What if someone's influencing the gods, like Medea influenced us?"
Piper shudders. She'd had a similar thought — that some force they couldn't see was manipulating things behind the scenes, helping the giants. Maybe the same force is keeping Enceladus informed about our movements, and had even knocked their dragon out of the sky over Detroit. Perhaps Leo's sleeping Dirt Woman, or another servant of hers . . .
Leo sets hamburger buns on the skillet to toast. "Yeah, Hephaestus said something similar, like Zeus was acting weirder than usual. But what bothered me was the stuff my dad didn't say. Like a couple of times he was talking about the demigods, and how he had so many kids and all. I don't know. He acted like getting the greatest demigods together was going to be almost impossible — like Hera was trying, but it was a really stupid thing to do, and there was some secret Hephaestus wasn't supposed to tell me."
(Y/n) shifts. Piper can feel the tension in her arms. "Didn't you mention something about Chiron acting the same way when you were meeting him in the Big House?" (Y/n) asks. "
Jason nods "He mentioned a sacred oath not to discuss — something. Coach, you know anything about that?"
"Nah. I'm just a satyr. They don't tell us the juicy stuff. Especially an old —" He stops himself.
"An old guy like you?" Piper asks. "But you're not that old, are you?"
"Hundred and six," the coach mutters.
Leo coughs. "Say what?"
"Don't catch your panties on fire, Valdez. That's just fifty-three in human years. Still, yeah, I made some enemies on the Council of Cloven Elders. I've been a protector a longtime. But they started saying I was getting unpredictable. Too violent. Can you imagine?"
"Why don't you talk to Grover?" (Y/n) asks the satyr.
The Coach lets out a grunt, and then mutters something along the lines of "– don't like askin' for help." Then the Coach scowls. "Yeah, then finally we get a good war going with the Titans, and do they put me on the front lines? No! They send me as far away as possible — the Canadian frontier, can you believe it? Then after the war, they put me out to pasture. The Wilderness School. Bah! Like I'm too old to be helpful just because I like playing offense. All those flower-pickers on the Council — talking about nature."
"I thought satyrs liked nature," Piper ventures.
"Shoot, I love nature," Hedge replies. "Nature means big things killing and eating little things! And when you're a — you know — vertically challenged satyr like me, you get in good shape, you carry a big stick, and you don't take nothing from no one! That's nature." Hedge snorts indignantly. "Flower-pickers. Anyway, I hope you got something vegetarian cooking, Valdez. I don't do flesh."
"Yeah, Coach. Don't eat your cudgel. I got some tofu patties here. Piper's a vegetarian too. I'll throw them on in a second."
The smell of frying burgers filled the air. Piper usually hates the smell of cooking meat, but her stomach rumbles like it wanted to mutiny.
I'm losing it, she thinks. Think broccoli. Carrots. Lentils.
Her stomach isn't the only thing rebelling. Lying by the fire, with (Y/n) holding her, Piper's conscience feels like a hot bullet slowly working its way toward her heart. All the guilt she'd been holding in for the last week, since the giant Enceladus had first sent her a dream, is about to kill her.
Her friends wanted to help her. Jason even said he'd walk into a trap to save her dad. And Piper had shut them out.
For all she knows, she'd already doomed her father when she attacked Medea.
She chokes back a sob. Maybe she'd done the right thing in Chicago by saving her friends, but she'd only delayed her problem. She can never betray her friends, but the tiniest part of her is desperate enough to think, What if I did?
She tries to imagine what her dad would say. Hey, Dad, if you were ever chained up by a cannibal giant and I had to betray a couple of friends to save you, what should I do?
Funny, that had never come up when they did Any Three Questions. Her dad would never take the question seriously, of course. He'd probably tell her one of Grandpa Tom's old stories — something with glowing hedgehogs and talking birds—and then laugh about it as if the advice was silly.
Piper wishes she remembers her grandpa better. Sometimes she dreams about that little two-room house in Oklahoma. She wonders what it would've been like to grow up there.
Her dad would think that was nuts. He'd had spent his whole life running away from that place, distancing himself from the rez, playing any role except Native American. He'd always told Piper how lucky she was to grow up rich and well cared-for, in a nice house in California.
She'd learned to be vaguely uncomfortable about her ancestry — like Dad's old pictures from the eighties, when he had feathered hair and crazy clothes. Can you believe I ever looked like that? he'd say. Being Cherokee was the same way for him — something funny and mildly embarrassing.
But what else were they? Dad didn't seem to know. Maybe that's why he was always so unhappy, changing roles.
Maybe that's why Piper started stealing things, looking for something her dad couldn't give her.
Leo puts the tofu patties on the skillet. The wind keeps raging.
Gradually, Piper starts to feel warmer. She stops shivering and settles against (Y/n)'s chest. Leo hands out the food, and (Y/n) takes a tofu patty, more to make Piper more comfortable; Piper doesn't want to move, talk, or do anything to disrupt the moment. But she has to.
We need to talk." She sits up so she can face (Y/n). "I don't want to hide anything from you guys anymore."
They look at her with their mouths full of burger. Too late to change my mind now.
"Three nights before the Grand Canyon trip," she begins, "I had a dream vision — a giant, telling me my father had been taken hostage. He told me I had to cooperate, or my dad would be killed."
The flames crackles.
Finally Jason says, "Enceladus? You mentioned that name before."
Coach Hedge whistles. "Big giant. Breathes fire. Not somebody I'd want barbecuing my daddy goat."
(Y/n) gives him a shut up look. "Piper, go on. What happened?"
"I — I tried to reach my dad, but all I got was his personal assistant, and she told me not to worry."
"Jane?" Leo remembers. "Didn't Medea say something about controlling her?"
Piper nods. "To get my dad back, I had to sabotage this quest. I didn't realize it would be the four of us. Then after we started the quest, Enceladus sent me another warning: He told me he wanted you three dead. He wants me to lead you to a mountain. I don't know exactly which one, but it's in the Bay Area — I could see the Golden Gate Bridge from the summit. I have to be there by noon on the solstice, tomorrow. An exchange."
She can't meet her friends' eyes. She waits for them to yell at her, or turn their backs, or kick her out into the snowstorm.
Instead, (Y/n) scoots next to her and puts her arm around her again, "Gods, Piper. I'm so sorry."
Leo nods, "No kidding. You've been carrying this around for a week?"
"Piper, we could help you," Jason adds.
She glares at each of them. "Why don't you yell at me or something? I was ordered to kill you."
"Aww, come on," Jason says. "You've saved all three of us on this quest."
"You don't get it!" Piper argues. "I've probably just killed my dad, telling you this."
"I doubt it." Coach Hedge belches. He is eating his tofu burger folded inside the paper plate, chewing it all like a taco. "Giant hasn't gotten what he wants yet, so he still needs your dad for leverage. He'll wait until the deadline passes, see if you show up. He wants you to divert the quest to this mountain, right?"
Piper nods uncertainly.
"So that means Hera is being kept somewhere else," Hedge reasons. "And she has to be saved by the same day. So you have to choose — rescue your dad, or rescue Hera. If you go after Hera, then Enceladus takes care of your dad. Besides, Enceladus would never let you go even if you cooperated. You're obviously one of the seven in the Great Prophecy."
One of the seven. She'd talked about this before with Jason, (Y/n), and Leo, and she supposes it must be true, but she still has trouble believing it. She doesn't feel that important. She is just a stupid child of Aphrodite. How can I be worth deceiving and killing?
"So we have no choice," she replies miserably. "We have to save Hera, or the giant king gets unleashed. That's our quest. The world depends on it. And Enceladus seems to have ways of watching me. He isn't stupid. He'll know if we change course and go the wrong way. He'll kill my dad."
"He's not going to kill your dad," Leo says. "We'll save him."
"We don't have time!" Piper cries. "Besides, it's a trap."
We're your friends, beauty queen," Leo said. "We're not going to let your dad die. We just gotta figure out a plan."
Coach Hedge grumbles. "Would help if we knew where this mountain was. Maybe Aeolus can tell you that. The Bay Area has a bad reputation for demigods. Old home of the Titans, Mount Othrys, sits over Mount Tam, where Atlas holds up the sky. I hope that's not the mountain you saw."
Piper tries to remember the vista in her dreams. "I don't think so. This was inland."
Jason frowns at the fire, like he is trying to remember something.
"Bad reputation . . . that doesn't seem right. The Bay Area . . ."
"You think you've been there?" Piper asks the son of Zeus.
"I. . . He looks like he is almost on the edge of a breakthrough. Then the anguish comes back into his eyes. "I don't know. Hedge, what happened to Mount Othrys?"
Hedge takes another bite of paper and burger. "Well, Kronos built a new palace there last summer. Big nasty place, was going to be the headquarters for his new kingdom and all. Weren't any battles there, though. Kronos marched on Manhattan, tried to take Olympus. If I remember right, he left some other Titans in charge of his palace, but after Kronos got defeated in Manhattan, the whole palace just crumbled on its own."
"No," Jason says suddenly.
Everyone looks at him.
"What do you mean, 'No'?" Leo questions.
"That's not what happened. I—" He tenses, looking toward the cave entrance. "Did you hear that?"
For a second, nothing. Then Piper hears it: howls piercing the night.
Word Count: 11828 words
#piper mclean x reader#piper mclean x fem reader#piper mclean x female reader#the lost hero#the son of neptune#the heroes of olympus#the blood of olympus#the house of hades#the mark of athena#annabeth chase x reader#annabeth chase x sister reader#percy jackson x sister reader
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: ̗̀➛ ⚝ Ꞌꞌ : Яₑdₑₘₚₜᵢₒₙ
━━ ; THE PPROLOGUE
━━ WARNINGS ; swearing, interpolations of hell / heaven, kinda shit, so is the pacing but that's only BC I had a very limited time 🖤
Sitting at your desk you typed away at the laptop you were provided for so you could do your job. While it was boring to be the devil's personal secretary you did manage to get all the juicy details a normal devil or a high ranking demon could only dream of knowing and also, since SATAN was having extreme trouble with his relationships - or better known as sulking because he doesn't have a boyfriend - you were given the responsibilities of attending all of his meetings, and those meetings included meeting GOD, yes that same entity that billions devoted their lives for.
When you first started this job you honestly didnt expect any of the things that did happen to you. For one you were given your own rank within the demon society, leading the hierarchy to go like this : ADAM & EVE - the original sinners, the rulers of the underworld, feared and loved by all the miserable and dammed souls of hell, notably Eve has much more power and status over Adam, since after all it was her who took the bite from the apple, once they died due to their new morality they were sent to a place under the the land they lived on, quickly they claimed it as their own and swore for revenge against god. SATAN & DAMIEN - the son and grandson of the original sinners, though adam and eve have the most power they are barely ever seen, if not they are NEVER seen thus leading satan (their son) to take over the place, but due to his lack of responsibility and want for a relationship he created Damien though he also sucked at the job causing the need for you. [ NAME ] - yes you get your own little rank? aren't you lucky? though you dont have much power and your rank is barely even acknowledged by other demons its still there, making you much much more important than other demons. DEMONS - demons are low ranking, most of them barely even have any powers and they are forced to work, though not as much as devils do. Many demons are rich and boast about it. DEVILS - devils are the lowest of the low, no devil has any powers, they are forced to labour and never catch a break.
You were honestly so happy you had your own rank, it meant that you were something, not an ordinary sinner or hell-born like all the rest. Though now, you couldnt focus on that, instead you tired to type away- trying to plan another meeting with the royal family of the southern rings to discuss their want for more land. Key word "tried", your attention was drawn to a blinding light that shown through your office, a small white letter with a golden wax stamp of angel wings, leading you to immediately register that it was indeed from heaven. You left your email half-way done, crimson red hands holding the letter. You scoffed, heaven was so under-developed, they practically all refused to develop heaven and introduce technology, wonder what this remind you of. Opening your letters, your jet black eyes scanned over it's contents
' DEAR SATAN'S REPROSENTITIVE
Our god wishes to speak to your sinner self, you must arrive at 7:33am exactly for the two of you to speak.
If you arrive late, as your kind tend to do, you will not be let into heaven
Kind regards, THE SAINTS FROM ABOVE `
You rolled your eyes at the language used by the angels, while they loved to preach about how wonderful they are, they hated anything that wasnt them, degrading them silently as to not fall from grace if god hears them. Though after some thinking, you rose a brow- what did god want to talk to you about? All of your meetings with it was completed and done exactly on schedule ( as you tended to have a hate for showing up late ) , werent they? Perhaps it just wanted to have a normal chat with you, the two of you have done that previously as it had gained a 'fondness' of you - its words, not yours - and enjoyed your presence. Deciding to just stop thinking about it you looked at the time, ' 7:30 ' , great you had three minutes.
Standing up you fixed your outfit (which consisted of an overly large beige turtle neck and a long lack skirt that clung to your fiery red skin) and made your way up to heaven via the Latin based spell that you memorized just for these occasions " Peto ut anima mea, licet peccatis mortalibus infecta, ad portas terrae sanctorum perducatur, deus caelorum ingrediendi coelorum potestatem mihi concessit. "
Within seconds you were at the golden gates of heaven, two faceless angels guarding it, wearing normal ancient roman like armor, glass spears in their stiff hands, silver rings acting as helmets . Upon noticing your arrival, though not having faces you knew they scowled and yet still they let you in. It didnt take long for you to find the palace of god, entering it you were greeted with the figure of it. God wasn't a large white man, with a long beard and white robes, God wasnt a reptilian monster who was the same height of a ten year old. God was a voice, a feelings, a thought, it wasnt physical but for the sake of it's subjects it forced itself to have a physical form one that consisted of a tall lanky person ( no one could tell if it was a male or female thus leading people to refer to it as well . . . 'it' ) with long white hair that stretched out like branches that belonged to a tree, long lanky limps and most noticeably it had no face, only a body.
" my friend " it refered to you making you bow out of respect, though many sinners hated god as they thought it was the reason for all the angel's bitchy attitudes it had no control over what it's 'children' did. God always referred to saints as ' my children ' and sinners as ' My lost followers ' hell it even refers to adam and eve, satan and Damien as ' My opposites ' but he always called you ' my friend ' it made you wonder.
" Yes, holy monarch ? " you raised you head, making 'eye contact' with it. " My friend, due to your respect for me and all angels, your sinless actions towards everyone. I have granted you the gift of redemption " it spoke gently yet firmly, not caring to call you out on your shock at the words that felt its mouth " what ?! " you yelped, wondering if this was some type of trick " You heard me, friend, i'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself and join me withing the heavenly walls of peace. The question is, will you take this chance ? " you answered it's quetion with a breathy 'yes' still quite shocked with it's random and sudden proposal " That is most wondeful, my friend. Though you cannot simply be granted redemption just for your acts here, you must prove yourself even more to me. " " How, holy monarch ? " " I will send you to a mortal town, by the name of south park. You are to go there and preform acts of purity " it stated calmly " But. " of course there was a but " You must. MUST. " it's voice boomed, showing how serious it gotten " Follow two rules, understand? " " Yes . . . " " One, you are not to tell anyone what you are or speak in your tounge, their mortal brains will not be able to handle such information and will be forced to end their own lives " though the rule sounded extremally over dramaticated you nodded " and Two, you are not to fall in love with any mortal. Breaking these two rules will never grant you a place in heaven. You will be chained to hell forever. Am i clear? " You nodded, those rules were simple. Simple enough for you to follow and never break, while you were a 'demon' from hell you liked to think you were different from Adam and Eve, they broke god's rule, you will not.
" I will grant you the knowledge of mortals and send you to their land " God's boney hand reached out to you, once making contact with your forehead you felt a rush of adrenaline fill you, your impish body not being able to handle the contact from a god fell onto the cold, damp cloudy ground, everything going black.
" do not disappoint me. my child "
An extremely strange and new hotness engulfed the town of south park as the earth's crust burst opened, the screams of the damned filled the town's silent atmosphere and a figure of a girl landed on the ground, the snow crunched under her weight, the moonlight shown on her face making her look almost angelic if anyone was there to see her, though due to nights reign over south park no one was there to see how she rose up groggily, looking around.
TAG LIST ; @ky-uwu @mishstuff
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She Works For The Devil
Chapter 5
Kaylee Holmes, timid and sweet is studying accounting at NYU. To everyone around her, her life is simple, working towards her degree and living a perfect life in the city of New York. But what they don’t know is the dark secret she carries. Working for one of the most powerful men in New York, secretly involved in the Mafia underworld and forced to serve the man himself is not something you tell everyone when you first meet them. However, her life soon changes when she meets young and friendly Peter Parker, just transferred to NYU, and wonders what her life would be like if she could live it out like she tells everyone.
Warnings: Manipulation, Dominant male figures, Slavery, BDSM, Dominance, Submission, Mental abuse, Sexual themes, Dark Bucky Barnes, Possessiveness, Jealousy,
Kaylee sighed heavily as she entered her apartment, throwing her bag on the floor and her keys into the small dish on the side. She was exhausted. Bucky liked to be rough with her, he liked to show his power over her, and the whips and chains did exactly that. Her body tingled from the whip he used, her skin a pinker shade than normal. The cuffs she had on her wrists hadn’t left marks, but she felt an odd sensation as if they were still there. She was ready to hit her warm cosy bed. She was surprised Bucky didn’t ask her to stay the night after their rough kinky session, but she wasn’t complaining. Sometimes it was nice to have her own space, her little room of freedom as she liked to call it.
At Bucky's it was all Yes Sir and constantly being on edge around the guys and doing what they wanted, taking orders like a slave would. Here, she had no one to tell her what to do, to boss her about. She felt she was in charge of herself. It was nearly nine, and Kaylee needed a shower. Part of her was telling her not to bother and perhaps if she got up early enough in the morning, she could have one then but then she’d have to blow dry her hair and style it and that would take too long so she opted to just having her shower now and to stop being lazy.
She dragged herself to the small bathroom, switching on the heater and letting the water steam up. Slipping out of her clothes, she caught herself in the mirror and took a breath in. There were subtle marks from the whip, her skin blotchy and tender. She had endured worse though. Violet had learned over the years that pain could be pleasurable, not only to her but to Bucky. He had this way of being so dominant, so good with the implements he held in those big strong hands he used to kill and slaughter and spank with on a daily basis. He had this effect on Kaylee that she knew no one else could have. Why… because he knew her inside and out and she only knew him.
He was the only person to give her pleasure, to make her feel things that sent her shaking and screaming. He was the match that set her on fire, her body responding beautifully to his cues. It confused and made her mind boggle the affect he had on her. Kaylee slipped into the steaming shower, the water burning her instantly, but she stayed under it, letting it overtake her. She felt like she had been drugged, the water clouding her mind as she stood there, letting it soak her. But a shower could be the most dangerous thing for her mind, letting it trail off into over thinking.
Bucky was all she had. Her friends were limited, and her time was precious to him. She could only rely on him. Perhaps that’s why she let him do the things he does to her, because she doesn’t know any better, because she thinks he’s looking out for her. Because he cares for her. Her body and will belongs to him, to serve him. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go and so she gives herself to him, allowing him to take full control.
If she ever tried to fight back, she knows what will happen. There’s no point. It will only make things worse for her. Her life isn’t normal and will never be normal. But Violet had come to accept that, and she had lived like this since she had. But now things were changing. Peter. He’s a breath of fresh air, someone to pull her from that mind manipulation she had been in all these years. She hadn’t interacted with a guy like this since she met Bucky, and it was new to her. New in a sense that she was interacting back. She had distanced herself from guys for so long, she didn’t even imagine a relationship with one except for Bucky.
Peter was a good guy. Innocent, caring, friendly, funny. A part of Violet thought he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve her. she was only going to hurt him, whether that be herself or Bucky. But something in her wanted more from him. The giddiness she got when she met up with him, keeping it a secret from Bucky and knowing she was treading on bad territory. Peter was a good friend and Violet didn’t want to give that up.
A sudden splash of cold water hit her and pulled her from her trance, realising the hot water was running out. She quickly washed her hair and body, running the razor quickly over some areas before stepping out into the cold air and hugging a huge towel around her. Everything in her apartment was paid by Bucky. He was easy going if she needed something like a kettle or a new oven. He cared for her and wasn’t going to let her live in squalor. She was grateful for everything he had done for her, paying her college fees, buying her a car, paying for her apartment. She guessed her service and time was paying him back.
She pulled on her cosy pyjama’s letting her hair dry naturally and applying some moisturiser to her flushed face. She was completely exhausted and was ready to hit her bed. Just as she moved off her desk to fall face first in the cosy covers, her phone buzzed, and she glared at it.
Did you get those accounts finished
Fuck!
Kaylee groaned to herself, rubbing her eyes as she realised, she needed to finish off the accounts for this month. Bucky wanted them and they had to be done and she certainly wasn’t in the mood for the consequences.
“Why me” she murmured to herself, ripping out the planner and folder from her bag, slamming them on the desk with a slap and turning the desk light on. It was going to be one long night.
Violet could barely keep her eyes open as she drove to school that day, gripping the wheel tightly and feeling her eyes droop now and then. Perhaps life would be easier if she just let herself fall asleep at the wheel and let it take its own path. No more studying, no more accounts, no more mob bosses telling you what to do. Life would be easy. But knowing Kaylee, somehow that wouldn’t go her way. It was Friday and it was clear the students had that Friday feeling. The usual frat boys were throwing beer cans around, slugging them down in seconds while being harassed by Mrs Long, the English professor.
She somehow managed to part her car in her sleep deprived state and make her way to campus but not before hearing her name being shouted across the parking lot.
“Kaylee” she turned and saw Peter running, a little giggle escaping at the goofy run, his bag shaking all over the place and rustling as he got nearer.
“Morning” he said, slightly out of breath, his hair all messy now and lips parted.
“Morning” she said a little sleepy.
“You okay, you look tired?” he said with concern as he walked beside her.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I just had a late-night last night”.
“Ohhh out partying, was it?” he grinned, and she chuckled.
“I wish, no I was studying”.
“Jesus, all you do is study?” he joked, and Kaylee couldn’t argue with him. Although what Kaylee’s idea of studying was actually working for one of the most dangerous men in New York.
“I know but I really want to pass this year and I guess I don’t want to take any chances” she shrugged.
“Nah I get that, besides when you get to third year it’s not that fun anymore, the partying, all the freshers coming in and getting wasted until the next morning, kind of makes you feel sick” Peter said, his head low down. Kaylee didn’t know the feeling. She hadn’t been out much, considering her time was spent with Bucky. His jealousy would mean she wouldn’t get to experience the young party life everyone else did when they entered college.
“Yeah, I guess you grow older as well and leave the life behind” the conversation was turning a little philosophical and Peter’s chirpy attitude changed the subject.
“So, what are you doing this weekend, I found this amazing pizza place and…” he laughed nervously, shaking his shoulder a little with his hands buried deep in his pockets.
“Well, if you want, we could go there” he offered and Kaylee stopped her in tracks, turning to face him.
What was she going to say? She felt bad having to let him down but there was no way she could make it.
“Oh… I would love to but…” the look on Peter’s face said it all and he nodded, shrugging it off.
“You have a boyfriend… I should have known; I mean a pretty girl like you doesn’t just not have a boyfriend”.
“No, no, no it’s not that… I don’t have a boyfriend… I just…”.
Quick Kaylee, think!
“I have this job that I do for extra money and the hours are crazy” she wasn’t lying. Her job certainly was crazy, but she didn’t do it for the money. A binding contract was more the reason.
“Oh, what kind of job” Kaylee bit her lip hard, thinking quickly of something that would mean she has no time to socialise. She couldn’t turn around and say she works for Bucky Barnes, the mob boss of New York. She wondered if Peter even knew who he was.
“I um… I look after old people like caring for them and stuff and I have to go make sure they are okay in the evenings, make them dinner, get them into bed that sort of thing” she smiled although it was forced on her face. She was praying he would buy the ridiculous excuse.
“Oh, I see. I get it, don’t worry?”.
“If I could go I would” and then a spark ignited in her and before Kaylee had the chance to realise what she was saying, the words had already left her mouth.
“How about Monday?” she asked sweetly, and Peter’s eyes lit up, his grin widening.
“Yeah, that sounds great” he said with excitement.
“Cool, Monday it is” Kaylee couldn’t help the little smile on her face appearing, her cheeks flushing pink. Was it the fact she had made a date with someone other than Bucky or that she was going out to dinner with Peter, the complete opposite to a man like Bucky. Either way she didn’t know, and she was going to find out.
The day seemed to drag, and Kaylee kept staring at the ticking clock, watching the minutes fade away. The bags under her eyes didn’t seem to go away at all and she looked tried as ever. Her brain had stopped working two hours ago and the recap lecture went over her head. If she wasn’t listening within the first five minutes, she certainly wasn’t going to learn anything. Finally, her professor let the class go, an uproar of chairs and bags being tossed over shoulders and booming steps down the stairs to flood out into the campus grounds. For these youngsters they were most likely hitting the town, short mini shirts and heels, bouncy hair and drinking till one AM. For Kaylee, it was heading to the mansion owned by a mob boss and spending the weekend at his e very service.
The drive was hectic, but she didn’t have a time schedule to be there. There were times where she’d return home and he was still out, probably committing murder or dealing heaps of cocaine to a supplier. Kaylee didn’t take much interest in the details of his crimes and frankly she didn’t want to know. The less she knew the better. Besides, she wasn’t a mob criminal, she was a young accountant living her life under the watchful eye of her boss and owner.
Kaylee pulled into the driveway, parking her car next to the flashy BMW’s and Audi’s. Hers looked so out of place. Maybe she could ask Bucky for a new one. She wondered if he would give her one. You never could tell with Bucky how he was going to react or respond. He was a man who at times showed little emotion, no empathy for those around him, no remorse for the things he did. He was a cold-hearted killer. And yet at other times, he showed this sweetness to Kaylee, like you would with any prized possession and could switch to a sadistic dominant figure who gets hard on being in control and having power over someone. You could write a book about this guy, a biography if you will. The many faces of Bucky Barnes. A new car was the least of Kaylee’s concerns.
She stepped up the small stairs to the front door, pushing it open and stepping into the grand house. It always amazed her how they left the door open for just anyone to walk in, not that anyone would just walk into a mob boss house. They probably felt they didn’t need to lock the door. No robber or intruder would want to step foot inside this place and pick the insides of every draw and cupboard. They’d get their head blown off if they even tried.
As she shut the door, Kaylee heard shouting coming from the living room, the obvious sound of Steve's voice. She didn’t want to trek in there, but she needed to find Bucky. Most likely he was in his office but if he wasn’t here, she’d wait for him upstairs, away from the asshole’s downstairs. As she predicted Steve was on the couch, legs lazily resting on the coffee table in front like it wasn’t the most expensive thing. His suit was slightly ruffled, tie lazily thrown to the floor and shirt open at the top and of course, a beer in his hand. Three empty bottles were on the table already and this was his fourth, but he didn’t seem drunk.
His eyes immediately looked to Kaylee as she walked in, a smirk appearing on his lips like a cocky bastard, and he gave a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Hey kid” he called, and Kaylee held back the urge to smash one of those beer bottles and stab him in the chest or stab him in the face so he couldn’t smile anymore.
“Do you know where Bucky is?” she asked softly, keeping her tone light to not engage too much with him but to get her answer quickly.
“He’s in his office” he took a huge gulp pf his beer, returning to the screen and Kaylee spun around as soon as she had the answer, trotting down the hallway and away from that prick. How Bucky could work with a guy like him and have him as his second in command she didn’t know but to be fair, Bucky was no better than him. At least at times he could be decent to others.
Kaylee reached his office, swallowing hard and knocking softly on the door, hearing his faint voice command her in. The door squeaked slightly as she entered the warm office, the after smell of smoke, aftershave and whiskey combining into one, a toxic mix. There he was, in all his glory, leaning on the edge of his desk, one leg higher than the other for support. She hated to admit he looked gorgeous. Dressed in an all-black suit, this time a black turtleneck underneath his double-breasted jacket and tight-fitting trousers, he looked every bit of a mob boss. His beard had grown over the time she saw him, his cheekbones still slicing through that fine hair across his jawline. His hair was slightly longer as well, a few pieces falling in front of his face whilst the rest was brushed back with what looked like his fingers. It’s funny how much a person changes over time. The darkness of his suit added that rich look to him, the power just falling into his hands. Kaylee felt a tingle to her thighs, and she pressed them sharply together as she fully walked in the office.
His eyes looked up, catching hers and his smirk growing. He looked to be reading some papers, what they were she didn’t know and didn’t want to know but his attention was easily diverted to her now. He dropped the papers onto the desk, letting them hit the wood with a slap and rested his hands in his lap, his head slightly turned up as if he was radiating power just a few feet away. The door shut gently behind her, leaving them in the silence surrounding them.
“Hi” he greeted, his voice husky and powerful.
“Hello Sir” Kaylee replied timidly, sucking in her bottom lip to wet it from its dry state. She tiptoed over to him, catching his scent of expensive cologne and freshly washed skin. The mere mention of the word Sir on her lips made him smirk harder and he shuffled on the desk, placing his leg down by staying just on the edge.
“I brought those accounts you wanted” she reached into her bag, pulling out the accounts she spent all night on and handed them with a spark of happiness, considering she was up all night doing them, she wanted to be somewhat proud. He took them gently, his ring catching the light and almost blinding her as he flicked through them, eyes careful on every number and detail.
“Good girl, I was hoping you’d get them finished. Our taxes are due, and we wouldn’t want to get in trouble with that would we?” he asked softly, his voice above a whisper and Kaylee laughed softly under her breath.
“No, we wouldn’t” it’s funny, a mob paying their taxes, this is the sort of thing they wouldn’t do. But it meant not catching the attention of the IRS or police which Bucky didn’t need. Bucky dropped the account on top of his papers and turned his full attention back to Kaylee, taking a deep breath.
“Come here” he whispered, ordering her over and without a second thought she obeyed. It was default to her now, obeying his every command, order, wish. Even if she wanted to defy, she couldn’t. She stepped closer to him, his hand reaching out for hers and giving her a little tug, so she was pressed between his legs as he sat fully on the desk, still towering over her like he usually does. His hands were warm, soft as if nothing touched them. His eyes inspected her closely, those blue orbs dark and inviting at the same time, long dark lashes shadowing them. His warm toned skin looked healthy and fresh compared to her sickly tired look.
“You look tired” he said, concern in the corner of his voice. Half of him was concerned, the other curious as to why she was tired. Something that she wasn’t telling him. Possession started to fire up in him, but her gentle voice simmered it down before it got too hot.
“I am… I might have had a late night… with those accounts” she confessed. His smirk turned to a smile, his head shaking a little and he sighed softly, his hand reaching up and brushing her hair behind her ears, his thumb slowly grazing her cheeks in a sweet moment, trailing it down to her chin to take a firm but tender hold.
“What am I going to do with you?” he whispered, his fingers curling up and around her jaw to pull her forwards, lips pressing hers in a tender kiss, slow and deep. He kissed three or four times, each one moving higher above her lips and sucking just a little extra bit more. Kaylee let the moan roll over her tongue, falling into his hold, his power, his energy. Kaylee fell deeper into his lap, feeling his cock underneath the tightness of his pants growing harder. She took a hearty breath, eyes slightly closed as Bucky ran his hands up her back, fingers latching into the strands of blonde hair and pulled her head back, exposing the tight skin on her neck.
“Mmm” she groaned, unable to move from her entrapment. She found herself gripping onto his thighs for support, the position she was in a little straining on her body. His warm breath tickled over her face, those eyes of his looking at every little detail on her face.
“Sir” she murmured, and he grinned.
“What?” he teased, and Kaylee couldn’t get the words out. All she did was moan and her body tingled from the little contact he had with her except his hands in her hair. Finally, he let her up, kissing her sharply, his beard scratching her face as he moaned softly. it was simple acts like these that turned Bucky on just as much as he would having Kaylee bound and at his mercy in the bedroom. His hand laid on the back of her neck, keeping her still and in his focus.
“Um… did anything come in the mail Sir” she asked, spiking his attention and he furrowed his brows, shaking his head.
“I don’t think so, I checked yesterday nothing has come in” he shrugged, and Kaylee frowned a little.
“Oh okay” she murmured.
“I’m sure it will come soon, maybe your brother is busy” he said, and Kaylee nodded. it wasn’t like her to not receive a letter. She got one every month. It usually came around the end of the month and it was nearly February. She didn’t want to stress about it too much, it was a touchy subject between the two of them and she didn’t want to bring it up any further.
“Maybe… is there anything you would like me to do for you Sir” she asked in her most polite voice. Bucky took a deep breath, eyeing her up and down, sucking in his cheek and pressing the tip of his tongue into his cheek.
“I want you to go upstairs, take a nice shower, and be ready for me” he whispered, his voice vibrating through as he laid his instructions clear, and they could only mean one thing.
“Yes” she whispered which earned her a grip on her chin, his thumb digging into crook.
“Yes what?” he ordered with a serious tone; his voice still light.
“Yes Sir” she corrected herself, her eyes entranced by his and his reassuring smile gave her the signal to go.
Chapter 6
Hey sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated, I'm trying to keep these chapters long and it just takes a little while not to mention the writers block I frequently get hahah. I hope you like this chapter, what do you think will happen next, let me know in the comments
@cjand10 @pattiemac1 @sebastiansluts
#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan smut#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes smut#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes
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alright, finally found some spare time to write about my favorite girl. let's talk about selina in the batman 2022 & what's driving her attraction to everyone's favorite emotionally repressed asshole vigilante.
under a cut, because this is going to get long - apologies in advance!
selina kyle is incredibly perceptive. this is an innate ability of hers, as well as a learned one. taking people/situations at face value can and will get you killed on the streets, to say nothing of the consequences that kind of naivety can bring when you're delicately navigating the criminal underworld the way that she is.
when she first meets Batman, she knows him by reputation only. he's a vigilante with a taste for vengeance - and while his biggest claim to fame is putting away a serial killer, he spends most of his nights pounding street level thugs into the concrete and throwing them in jail. selina, a street level drug dealer, is definitely aware of this fact and responds appropriately when confronted with him in person for the first time. she's startled, wary, then curious...and lastly, defiant, when he just stands there and continues to stare at her. she doesn't know what his deal is, and when it becomes clear that he's there looking into annika, she's less concerned about figuring it out and more worried about what exactly he's planning to do.
which isn't to say she isn't attracted to him - she's not as obviously affected as he is, but the pull is there.
their first contact in the mayor's mansion reveals quite a bit about him to selina. his unwillingness to hurt her, his surprising protective streak, and his unexpectedly naive assumptions about her motives. he's not the unfeeling monster he's painted himself as - and selina, who knows a thing or two about using disguise and theatre/performance as a means of survival, recognizes his damage as being similar to her own.
let's talk about the performance that is Batman. bruce is Batman is bruce, but he is not yet at a point where he has self-actualized and reconciled the two halves of his identity. this is important, because selina has yet to meet him as bruce; all she knows is the Batman.
the Batman has total control of his environment, he's highly logical and unaffected by emotion, he's powerful and authoritative, a dominating presence that strikes fear wherever he goes. (this is how bruce wants to be seen, and he's been successful thus far) selina is into that! like, I cannot stress how much she is into that, even as she enjoys poking fun at him for his stoicism. but she also can tell that it's a constructed persona, and the glimpses of the man beneath are intriguing to her.
there's also the outfit which, um...it's fetish gear. let's all be honest with ourselves, it's fetish gear. do not @ me with 'tactical this' and 'military that' because it is literally kink. shout out to zoë for confirming that selina thinks his entire getup is dead sexy and is part of why she's into him in the first place. freaky recognizes freaky, is what I'm saying lmao. his big bad bat persona is the perfect complement to her coquettish sex kitten.
so while selina is into the batsuit and the dark avenger thing bruce has going on, she's also curious about and drawn to the man inside of it. he's a dick towards her, no doubt about it, but it's never really /about/ her, it's about his own issues. selina knows this. she cuts him a lot of slack, but she also isn't afraid to stand up to him and cut him off when he oversteps her boundaries.
he's positioned himself as someone who's cleaning up Gotham's filth, looking out for the little guy, punishing evil...yet he's not really doing any of that effectively when they meet due to his tunnel vision methods. when she calls him out on his naive and limited worldview, she's trying to help him, to make him better.
& yes, part of why she falls so quick is due to how lonely she is. her affinity for strays says it all. is she perhaps a little too eager to trust him and throw her lot in with a virtual stranger, one she has never seen the face of? maybe. do bruce and selina have a history of falling in love at first sight and being each other's only exception when it comes to the walls they put up to keep others away? they sure do!
to steal from my fave @cityhalloween, selina wants batman to prove he's the man she thinks he is. a protector. the kind of man who uses his power and influence for good. the complete opposite of the men she's been surrounded by her entire life. is it a little unhealthy that she's more attracted to his potential than anything? a little bit, yeah, but who cares.
selina and bruce are very, very different; but inside they are one and the same. two broken kids playing animal dress up to distract from the pain, single-minded and solitary, coming to life in the dark where they feel free to be themselves. it's all about the recognition of the other, seeing parts of yourself in the beloved and loving them when you can't love yourself.
it's a genuine and pure connection. the relationship itself is um...not quite functional, as they both have a lot of character development to go through before they're fully realized versions of themselves, but the love is real and true.
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@fullybeautifultheorist replied to your post “@fullybeautifultheorist replied to your post...”:
Let's not forget that he forcefully impregnated Phoebe in season 4. I know this is an unpopular idea but I see him complicit with the Source because we saw him being in control the moment Phoebe damped him. Moreover we saw him stalking Phoebe and trying to manipulate her to use dark magic in 4.22. For me all this proves he didn't really love Phoebe. And her having a thing for him after season 4 doesn't make sense.
Ironically, I was literally just thinking about how that was technically rape via deception, which is obviously never addressed. Honestly, Phoebe doesn’t ever really find out that he intentionally messed with her birth control, so she doesn’t even know. Even if Phoebe had found out though, it was like 2002 so the odds aren’t great that they’d have really treated it like rape tbh.
I will say, I honestly don’t know what I think how complicit he was or wasn’t with the Source yet. While I’ve rewatched basically the last quarter of season four, I want to rewatch the full arc to decide. It doesn’t really help that I kinda feel like the show was just making stuff up by the episode during the last quarter though (I’m looking at Womb Raider specifically).
4x22 and on though, Cole’s actions are a hundred percent on him. In 4x22, I understand why he would want her to save him and I know a lot of fans are pissed that she doesn’t try to, but I feel like it’s understandable why she doesn’t. Even ignoring that she is giving up her powers for most of that episode and the Angel of Destiny outright acknowledges that the sisters have a limited timeframe, my thing is.
How exactly was she supposed to save Cole from the Demonic Wasteland? He tries to push her towards the Grimoire, which is obviously evil magic but uh. My guy, she also. can’t use it. Not even won’t, which would be valid, but good beings can’t touch the Grimoire. She rejected evil (and helped kill the Source even), lost the Source-infused demon baby, and is firmly back as a Charmed One. She physically cannot touch it anymore, unless she goes evil again which she clearly illustrates that she isn’t on board with.
And without the Grimoire, is it even possible for her to save him? Besides the Heavens and the Underworld, which are vastly different cases, the sisters never really intentionally move between planes anyway and there are multiple episodes with the conflict being that they got stuck on a different plane. Wait, this is a completely different tangent, sorry, railing it back in.
When Cole comes back in season five, I think that the writers keep flip-flopping between her still loving him and her hating him. Like I said, they really just. Flat out write him as a domestic abuser in the season five premiere and then just go psych, actually Phoebe’s reaction to him isn’t bc he’s abusive, she just still loves him 🤪. (Which would have been understandable if they weren’t using her still loving him to kind of. gloss over the abusive behavior bit.) I just. Ugh, Cole’s writing is such a mess.
#fullybeautifultheorist#abi speaks#honestly i am pretty sure that i went off on a whole ass tangent here but like. cole's writing is a disaster#but lbr even in season three he was never actually the man phoebe thought he was but i have a post about THAT actually
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okay, because for some stupid reason, text posts now have a character limit, so i had no choice but to break up my explanation post of cora's involvement in book 6 into two parts, so...here's part two of the story! once again, heavy spoilers for book 6 under read more!
once learning what happened and finding the rest of the group after pummeling through charons (using her unique magic onto them, albeit very reluctantly due to how much she despises it), cora is shocked. idia and ortho are doing all of this? why? no time to think, not when the group has to go down and need cora's assistance, given she's the only person who knows around this place.
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cora ends up teamed with azul and riddle - basically meaning she has to deal with their constant squabbling and she's already way too much over the edge from the prior argument with idia to begin with. she's a lot snarkier and prone to snapping at the two if need be, even going as far as to threaten them. when cora ourania is truly angry, you do not mess with her. this is something azul notices and points out when riddle keeps nagging him to go correct her behavior at once, given he knows her a little better from their time together at club meetings. it's true she is abrasive and snarky, as well as have a rude streak, but she's NEVER snapped this badly at anyone..something is awry, but cora doesn't want to share what exactly is it that caused this much anger.
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it's only after defeating the fire titan the second time, while the trio rest in the second hangar, that cora finally relents and tells them what happened prior to all of this. it's not like she has much to lose, that's her thought process, so might as well outright say it. those same thoughts from before are coming back, again, which only irritates her. this doesn't make sense - cora WANTED to get out! she SHOULD be relieved to have finally told idia off but here she is, second guessing herself! hell, she's even here, trying to get down as quickly as possible to stop the brothers! why?! WHY DOES SHE EVEN BOTHER?! she doesn't understand...but she can't find the answer, not when they're close to the deepest part of tartarus. they're each given a chariot, which cora takes charge of much to azul and riddle's surprise - when DID she learn to drive one of these things, after all? - but they rush further in.
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the three have a showdown against idia - who has overblotted, much to cora's horror (again with the bothering) - and a phantom form of ortho. having exerted some of their power after blasting the two with a thunder spear (sans from riddle, who overexerted and passed out - even had the effect the underworld had on the living people), they had no choice but to retrieve. cora, however...she had a different idea in head. if she could somehow get up on the phantom without either of them noticing...she could sneak in attacks from behind! with that in mind, cora leaves azul to take riddle back as she suddenly jumps out and latches onto ortho's back, disregarding the protests. like hell she'd let them pass by this easily.
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following the battle against leona and jamil, in which the two came out victorious, they shoot the second blaze of thunder spear on the brothers. unbeknownst to all of them, cora - who was still latched onto ortho's back - put her own magic into the spear but as a result from the sparks the spear caused, some of them slashed right through her face, ripping off few gashes, and even hit her in the right eye which permanently damaged it. now in great pain , with blood gushing down her cheeks, jaw, chin and her eye fully bloodshot, cora still manages to hold on as the brothers keep pushing up.
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during this time, hurting badly and barely hanging on, cora begins to overhear the conversation the brothers are having. this is when she begins remembering the long forgotten memories of her childhood - which she blocked off...remembering their times when they were still young and full of hope...remembering they were all friends. idia and cora, especially...they were close friends. now she realizes why she kept second guessing...it's because she never meant those words. all this time, between their bickering and strained relationship, the two still cared for one another...and yet, she hurt him. she ruined their friendship...she left him, all alone. those thoughts, alone, makes cora freeze in shock but chuckle internally - this could've all been cleared out from the beginning...they were really a bunch of idiots, after all.
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it was during the final showdown against vil's group, when the third strike makes the final hit, that cora suddenly jumps out of nowhere to unleash her remaining strength to said hit. she's the one who jumps down to cut the cords off idia and push him away, she's the one who grabs grim and tosses him back to safety...and she's the one who falls alongside phantom ortho...falling to her eventual death.
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she saved idia, saved everyone...she did her duty, as an ourania...but, at the cost of her own life...well, that would be the case, if she didn't wake up in a state of limbo and saw ortho...the real ortho. the two talk a bit, with cora reminiscing of the horrible things she's said and done to idia, her closest friend...showing regret, for the first time, in now being unable to apologize and move on, as her own person. this is when the real ortho talks sense to her, telling her she isn't stupid for wanting to be her own person, that she IS needed and has suffered enough...she saved idia, so ortho will save her, in return, by mustering whatever strength he has left to bring her out of the underworld. cora protests, saying he should be the one to go back, not waste it on some bitch who never bothered to look after anyone, but ortho assures he will be fine, that he has a backup plan (that being the memory chip stuck in grim's mouth)...reminding her that her and idia are his heroes.
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cora is speechless until she finally relents, offhandedly remarking that ortho has a pretty shit taste in heroes. she's still got some kick to her...and sure, she now realizes there's a lot of work to be done, that she and idia need to have long talks, but it'll be okay...after all, she's got a second chance to live - and who said dying in the underworld won't give you an eye opening experience? with that, she allows ortho to take her out of the underworld to reunite with her body, uttering: see you soon...or-chan.
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much to everyone's shock, cora's soul does reunite with her body with ortho's one final assistance, and she is brought back to life. though the scars and blind eye are still there, and will be there until the day she does finally join the underworld, she gets to live. of course, she passes out before questions could even be asked and the group rush back home for medical assistances - vil has turned old, riddle's hair turned white and cora just came back from the dead. they do return and she's immediately taken away to a hospital. she's in a week long coma before slowly coming to, wrapped up in bandages and lying in a hospital room. cora remains there for a full month until finally being able to return to school, where everyone welcomes her...and that is a sign that a new chapter of her life has finally begun.
#⟪ character study. ⟫ unlocking friendship level 9000.#book 6 spoilers#long post /#WIPES A BIG SWEAT OFF MY BROW....SHEEEEESH DUDE IM FINALLY DONE.#i hate that i had to separate this into two parts LMAO
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As promised: let's talk Hades, and how acts of abuse can create toxic environments for everyone around them, and also how people react to those environments--and to them being disrupted.
(For reference, I have just kicked Theseus's ass for the first time, it was exactly as satisfying as it was intended to be, and then I got predictably slaughtered a couple of chambers into Styx. Spoilers for everything through that point, but please no spoilers in reblogs/comments for anything after that!) Also, TW for a whole lot of discussion of abuse, particularly verbal and emotional abuse, and abusive familyworkplace dynamics.
Okay, so. To start out with, Hades is an abusive parent. He engages in innumerable acts of verbal and emotional abuse towards his son, because yep, that's what you call it when a parent constantly berates and belittles their kid for every perceived failure, including the ones the parent themselves could have prevented. Sometimes especially the ones the parent could have prevented. Zagreus failed at his office clerk job because Hades refused to teach him how to do it and then blamed him for not already knowing how. Cerberus tore up the lounge because Hades, who was actually there, chose not to stop him. Hades created, possibly deliberately, and then took full advantage of every opportunity he saw to insult and demean his kid, and the clerk job flashback shows us that he was doing so even before the escape attempts started. I'm pretty sure we're all on the same page here, but: yep, that all constitutes abuse, even if they're gods. Even if Hades has reasons for Being Like That. Even if you think Zagreus seems okay and unharmed by it (which: repeatedly throwing yourself into a gauntlet of violence that inevitably ends in your own pain and death because you're so desperate to escape home, not actually an indicator of someone who's okay). We all good on that?
Cool. Because I'm not really here to talk about how Hades' abuse directly impacts Zagreus right now (although there's for sure an essay in that too). I'm thinking about how it impacts everybody else.
Hades isn't as obviously unreasonable with anybody else in his kingdom the way he is with his kid. When we see him lecture somebody else, it's usually for an actual failure to do their job: Hypnos for literally falling asleep on the job and not doing anything that was assigned to him, Megaera for letting us past her so many time, Orpheus for being a court bard who refuses to sing. His attitude is super confrontational and unpleasant, but on the surface it doesn't necessarily look as fucked-up. Thing is, though, whether any individual act of aggression towards an employee/family member is justified or not (I would generally argue 'not', because aggression towards employees/family members is, y'know, not justifiable)--it's not about the individual acts. It's about the entire cultivated atmosphere of toxicity and abuse.
One of the very first things Meg ever says to us is, "I'd rather be on your bad side than his." Up until that point, we've got no reason to believe Meg has any history whatsoever of fucking up at her job. In fact, we've got plenty of reason to believe she's good at it. She's fiercely proud of it, she's frequently Employee Of The [Time Period], and we've apparently never even met her sisters because she handles her shit herself. But she's still scared of Hades. Dusa, who is an anxious wreck at all times because oh god what if she gets fired what if she gets fired what if she gets fired, in spite of apparently being absolutely exemplary at her job, is scared of Hades. Every single shade in the Hall is clearly terrified of Hades, and it's not because of what he's done to each of them. It's what they've seen him do to other people.
Which is how toxic environments work, whether they're work environments or families. The Court of Hades is of course both, always, with the bonus hell layer of you can't quit even if you DIE. An abuser in authority doesn't have to target you in order to make you feel scared, cowed, and desperate to please them. Humans (and gods who are basically extra-powerful humans) are good at learning by example. The residents of the Court get the picture.
So this Court is a minefield--and everyone except Zagreus is very good at tiptoeing around mines. We see it in Meg, so desperate to do her job well. We see that Hypnos very clearly does not give a shit about anything, but he still makes sure to have a list of excuses ready if/when Hades ever confronts him about failure to do his job, just in case. We see it when Achilles tells us that my ability to help you is constrained by the authority your father gives me, or whatever the line was sixty runs ago when he couldn't let me into locked chambers. The system, such as it is, works, and if Nyx talks to Hades as little as possible, if Thanatos avoids the Court entirely, if Achilles treads very carefully and knows how to keep his head down--well that's just the system, right? That's just how things are.
Even Zagreus seems to have had a role in that system as the court fuckup. He's the kid who didn't have a real job or purpose. He could take the focus of Hades' generalized, day-to-day ire off of everyone else, without triggering some of the more direct and violent ire because the work he was doing didn't really matter (a LOT of Hades' rage-triggers seem to be related to job performance, which means that the people with real jobs are of course the most at risk). And he could do so "safely" (big emphasis on the quotation marks there) because he alone of the court is Hades' actual kid, who's Prince of the Underworld no matter how much he fucks up. If one of Nyx's other kids gets something really really wrong, she might be able to protect them from some consequences, but Hades doesn't have any layer of supposed parental affection holding him back from getting violently furious about it. Zagreus gets a nice bedroom and the abuse is limited to words rather than divine power, and Hades is a dick to everyone but he only occasionally condemns people to eternities of torture, and only for good reasons like refusing to sing when your job is to be court bard, so it's fine, everybody's fine, everything's totally fine, right?
Except it's not fine when everybody is so clearly worried about anything going wrong. And it's especially not fine for Zagreus, who's the person to finally say no. He's leaving, for his own sake, because he deserves better and he's finally convinced he can have it. And that turns the whole system into disarray.
I am endlessly fascinated by the ways this game portrays different characters reacting to this upheaval in their carefully-mapped minefield. It's different for authority figures and peers and servants, different based on how people are positioned in the house under Hades' rule, and it's so spot-on and I love it.
Nyx, for instance, is absolutely calm about the whole thing, because Nyx has power. Hades can't hurt her. Hades can't even really do much against her children, not when Hypnos and Thanatos are gods in their own right. Yes, Hades rules the kingdom, but Nyx owns the land, and she gives no shits about his rages. And it's interesting, too, to see the lines she doesn't draw. The deal seems to be that Hades doesn't fuck with her, and doesn't outright threaten her kids (because Hypnos is bad at his job, demonstrably so, and Hades hasn't ruined him yet), and she doesn't interfere with the way he treats the people around him. She gives Zagreus advice and support and the mirror, but she also doesn't take a direct stand against Hades. He can't hurt her, but he could make life...difficult. She's protected, her position in the minefield is more of a safe viewing platform than slogging through the middle of it, but the mines are still there.
And then we have Achilles, who is one of my favorite characters in the whole game because of how he reacts to this whole situation. Achilles, like Nyx, is so supportive. Every single time you see him he has something encouraging to say. He gives us his Codex, secretly finds us weapons, trained us for years, clearly wants us to succeed. And still he's limited, not necessarily out of fear for himself (though he has to be scared for himself, he knows what Hades does to people who anger him), but out of concern that if he gives Zagreus too much help in one way, he won't be able to provide help at all later. He's still so careful.
Achilles and Nyx are so fucking important to this story because they're the only authority figures Zagreus really has in his life except for his father, and they are so supportive. They're what keep this story from being a nightmare of psychological horror and depression. They can't stop the pressure from Hades and this life in his house being miserable for Zag, but they can give us hope, remind us that Zagreus is still loved. And they have such an incredibly important role when it comes to guilt, which is one of the biggest ways toxic systems maintain themselves.
If Zagreus leaves, what happens to everybody else? Who takes Hades' wrath then? Who becomes court scapegoat if he's not there, and also, who gets punished for his escape? These questions matter, and we see him worry about it! He asks Nyx and Achilles both, is it going to be okay that you're helping me, are you going to be alright, will my father hurt you for this? And they are both so firm about telling him no. No, I will be fine. See, here's the list of reasons about why I'm going to be fine, why my position in this minefield is secure. They make a point of telling us that it's fine, that we do not need to hold ourself back from getting out of this abusive situation for their sake. That is instrumental in Zagreus's ability to keep making these escape attempts without feeling too guilty and worried and selfish to go on. (Another thing that's actually really important in setting up that dynamic--we see that Hades cares about Cerberus, even if he's using him as a pawn against us, and Cerberus seems to be the one figure in court who Hades doesn't get mad at. The dog isn't at risk, and that is really essential in keeping the story from getting too grim.) These people who we care about refuse to let themselves be held hostage to secure our good behavior.
It's also really useful for raising the stakes later in the story--we see Hades arguing with Nyx once or twice, and we see Zagreus feeling guilty about it, but it's also a sign that we're making enough progress to piss him off. After I finally made it out of Elysium on my last run, I came home to find him furious with Achilles in a way that actually makes me nervous, because Achilles does not have nearly as much security in his position as he says he does. (Achilles is such a good teacher/authority figure, because he knows goddamn well what Hades could do to him, and still refuses to let fear for his own situation stop him from helping the abused kid under his care escape his. And no, not everybody has the capacity to do that, but it matters so much coming from the guy who helped raise us. It matters so much. I do not even have the words for how much.)
It's also no mistake that many of the people we find supporting us along our journey are either the people with the most power in their immediate environment, or the least. Sisyphus helps us because what more could they do to me than this? Orpheus is a little wild around the eyes and somewhat disconnected from reality, and he wishes us the best because someone should get what they want and also he no longer gives a single fuck what happens to him. Eurydice has her own cozy little corner of Asphodel, as safe from Hades' rage as anybody anywhere in his realm because she's tucked in such an out-of-the-way middle place she's outside his notice. Dusa is so scared of everything anyway that, crush aside, she isn't any more threatened by us escaping than she is just by her everyday life here. Charon is unfathomable and unstoppable; Skelly literally exists to be a punching bag, and yet he also seems basically immune to pain, no matter what we do to him. There's no threat from Hades there.
So the people most at risk when I flip the world on its ear are the ones who have so much standing that they have something to lose, but not enough to protect them from losing it. Which of course brings us to Than and Meg--who are, of course, the two people who also seem by far the most upset by my attempts to leave.
As authority figures, Nyx and Achilles are constantly reinforcing the message that it's Hades' fault, not ours, if they or anybody else get caught in the crossfire of his wrath. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and it's not my guilt to bear. From Megaera and Thanatos, we get the opposite message--I am fucking with things, I am hurting people, and I need to stop. Zagreus isn't just abandoning them, as a friend or brother or lover or all of the above they're Greek gods who even knows. He's betraying them. They were in this together, as friends or lovers or whatever, but now Zagreus is sending earthquakes through the minefield they both still have to stand in. He is about to capsize this boat in the middle of a thunderstorm, he is fucking with the system, and they're the ones who are going to get most hurt.
I'm so curious how this is going to work for Than, who out of everyone we meet holds the closest role to Nyx's in terms of being sheltered from Hades' wrath. He's the guy who gets to leave, after all, even though he always has to come back. I've seen the least of him out of anybody so far because it took forever for me to get to Elysium, but two things really stand out and I'm so interested to see where they go. One, he really genuinely does care about Zagreus. He wants us safe, he wants us unhurt, the accessory he gives us only grants its bonus if we clear a room without taking injury, he keeps showing up to help. And two, he wants us to give up and go back and recognize how good we had it. Which is SO fucking interesting, considering how miserable Zagreus so clearly was, and how legitimate his reasons for being miserable were.
It makes me wonder so much about Than's standards for comparison. Does he know something we don't about what's waiting for us on the surface, something that might theoretically hurt Zagreus even more than staying down below? Has his life, which apparently allows him more freedom than anybody else in the Court, sucked horribly in ways we haven't seen, and that's why he spends so little time there in the first place? Either of those things is plausible, both of those things are plausible, and yet either one leads to this sense of patronizing, because he refuses to simply tell us. If something terrible is awaiting us, don't give us vague warnings, tell us what it is and let us decide for ourself! If you're fucking jealous because we might get out entirely and you're still stuck coming back here, say so. If you're worried about your mom--and he does bring her up, how could Zagreus turn his back on her like that, does seem to worry for her--then let's have an actual conversation about how many times she has insisted I do this and also how much I love her.
And, right, it's clear that a lot of Thanatos being upset is simply, you were going to leave me without even saying goodbye, you want to leave ME, which is understandable! But, like, he is demonstrably the one god who gets to visit the surface. He's the one person we actually COULD expect to see again. And he is absolutely also upset because there's an Order To Things, and we're fucking it up. We used to be his careless callow reckless friend who could talk back to Hades and get away with it, and now we're not, and everything is changing and we might leave him altogether, and we might leave him alone in that court without us, and he hates it.
Is it a short-sighted, selfish fear on his part? Yes, absolutely. Even if he's not scared of Hades on his own behalf, he is still frightened by what happens if we upset this system--and maybe it's the sanctity of a much bigger system than the Underworld that he's worried about! Maybe it's the whole divine and cosmic order. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect is enabling the abuse Zagreus has been dealing with for however-long he's been alive. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect OUGHT to be overturned, or at least shaken up. But this is what toxic systems DO. They convince the people within them that they have to be maintained, that a broken system that hurts the people within it is far better than no system at all, that changing the world is too scary and too dangerous. And Thanatos wants his whatever-Zagreus-is-to-him to be there, because he loves him and also because that's how the world works, and those things are all tangled up in one another, and that is how relationships are in a messed-up family like this so therefore I love it.
And Meg. Meg, the best for last, my dear, beautiful, furious, bitter, scared angry tired girl. I adore her. I am absolutely never going to date her, because the thing Zagreus needs most in his life hurts her, more directly than anybody else in the story, and that sucks, and it's not Zag's fault but they still shouldn't be together. Meg has taken more injury from this situation than anyone, quite literally as well as metaphorically, and it's not her fault any more than it's ours, but oh boy it has made her lash out and it's awful and it's perfect.
Meg's place in the Court of Hades is unique because she's not dead, not a mortal, not anything other than a god--but she's also not family. Nyx is not her mother. She's very much part of this system, she and her two sisters belong to Hades-the-realm and therefore also Hades-the-king, she can't leave, but she also doesn't have that protection of Nyx watching out for her in the same way. She's not royalty. She and her sisters (if you ask Hesiod instead of Virgil, which seems to be the interpretation the game's going with here) sprang from the blood of maimed Uranus at the same time as Aphrodite, but fuck knows Aphrodite isn't claiming them as siblings. And she can't be fired, exactly, but she sure can be demoted, and she sure can be made miserable in her job. Meg is vulnerable in a way very few people in Hades' employ are. She's a lot harder to do away with than any one random shade, but she's also a lot harder to miss blending in with a crowd.
What's more, she's the one person in this whole mess who is specifically tasked with stopping us from leaving. Hypnos isn't ordered to put us to sleep and keep us in our room. Thanatos can't be compelled or punished if he doesn't hunt us down. Achilles isn't told to lock us up and keep the keys. Meg is the one stationed at the doorway to Tartarus to keep us in. Meg is the one who gets in trouble when we leave. Meg (who Hades knows goddamn well Zagreus cares for, or cared for, who he absolutely knows we used to date) is the one who has to fight us again and again and again. And she's the one who keeps dying.
Again, it's this incredibly fucked-up guilt/hostage situation deliberately designed to keep people from fleeing abusive situations. Meg's insistence on fighting us now puts Zagreus in the position of having to hurt her himself again and again. Now suddenly we're the ones sticking a sword in our ex-girlfriend. Now suddenly someone can point to our desire to leave, to flee, to escape, and say, how selfish. How cruel. How terrible of us to want to go, when we're even willing to hurt the people we love to do it.
Except, right: Hades is the one who demands Meg stand there and stop us. Hades is the one who puts both of us in that position. Meg is also in an abusive situation, and she's willing to hurt us to protect herself. "I'd rather be on your bad side than your father's." It's easy to blame her at the start for being complicit, for being a tool of our father's abuse, for being on his side. It gets harder as the game goes on. I've killed her so many times. There's no way for her to beat me. She knows at this point that she can't beat me. She still fights, every single time, still throws herself upon that spike, not because she thinks she has any chance of stopping me but because she is so damn scared of what will happen if she doesn't try.
In fact, Meg's the one person we have actually seen face consequences for our actions so far, instead of just facing the threat of them. Her sisters are here. Her sisters, who she clearly does not want here, who are wild and violent and who she does not want in her life or anywhere near her, let alone near the job she takes so much pride in. She gets to deal with them now. (Hades doesn't have to deal with them. They're still not allowed in his court. But Meg does.) She gets stabbed, and bludgeoned, and shot, and lightning-struck, and poisoned, and every other thing we do to her. Thanatos doesn't. Nyx and Achilles and Hypnos don't. Bug Meg? Oh yes. Meg pays.
And yes, ok, she is complicit in this system. Everybody is complicit in this system. Zagreus who's trying to escape on his own behalf instead of overthrowing his father for the sake of everyone he'd otherwise be leaving behind is complicit in this system. Pointing fingers and pulling strings of who's more at fault? and who do we blame for this? is exactly how this sort of system perpetuates itself. Your sister always talked back at the dinner table and put everyone in an even worse and more violent mood. Your coworker refuses to work more than forty hours a week so now you have to take overtime to pick up their slack. You're enabling your dad by asking your sister to shut up, you're enabling your employer by working as hard as you do so you don't get fired, everyone's at fault, everyone's to blame, everyone is--
It's not everyone. It's Hades. It's Hades at the root of everything, and probably something big and institutional and fucked-up even beyond him. But even if everyone down in this Underworld does have to be trapped here forever, even if he's trapped here forever, Hades is neither challenging the system that put them here nor trying to make that fate better for anyone else stuck with him. He's just created an entire kingdom of backbiting and misery and people who can either go along with his whims or suffer the consequences.
At this point in the game, Meg is so fucking tired. Every time we run into her in the lounge, hunched over a table, the venom in her voice when she tells us "Do I look like I have anything to say to you?" is so bitter and so exhausted. There was a system, and she knew her place in the system, and it was a system divinely ordered by the gods themselves, and sure it was cruel but that's the literal will of the universe as far as she knows it. She had a role, and her role was vengeance and punishment and violence against those who'd committed the most egregious of sins in life, and there was a point to it, she was the divine deterrent to convince people not to do those things, and that was just, and that was right. The GODS THEMSELVES said so. How do you argue with that? You can't possibly argue with that!
And Zagreus is arguing with that. In trying to leave, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that nothing in the Underworld ever gets to leave it. In disobeying his father to do so, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that what the gods say is LAW. He's breaking everything.
And of course he's not trying to do any of that. He's not trying to destabilize the system at all. He's just trying to get himself out of it, to a place where he feels like he belongs and maybe a parent who's slightly nicer to him than this one. But toxic systems like this one break when the people within them have access to another option. When the kids find a way to actually leave, and not answer the phone, and not come home for holidays, and not deal with it any more. When the employees have the economic freedom to quit. When opportunities granted by education, money, social support, etc etc etc, show up and give people a choice. Even if the option is only ever for Zagreus--he's demonstrating that an option exists. Which is, of course, the one thing the system cannot ever allow.
I really like this game.
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Graveyard Siblings (5)
[Masterlink]
(PART 1) (PART 4)
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Mari and Cass sometimes switch their suits as they have the same body type. Cass would sometimes go out in full Hellbat gear and give the appearance that Hellbat is out more often than she actually is.
So Orphan/Black Bat also sometimes uses guns.
This also helps with concealing secret identities. Maria was rescued by Hellbat from Joker’s Henchmen. (Vicki Vale was getting sus of the new Wayne and Hellbat.)
Unfortunately since Hellbat rarely comes out and she had already made all of her appearance for the month and it wasn’t a busy weekend, the public had come to the conclusion that Hellbat has a crush on the newest Wayne.
Basically everyone thought that Mari has a crush on herself. Which led to some teasing and escalated to Mari announcing that Jason had a crush on Red Hood on live TV.
It didn’t help that a video of Red Hood and Jason re-enacting Romeo and Juliet with Jason on his apartment balcony and Red Hood on the roof was posted on the internet a few days later. (Thank you, Trixx and Tim’s awesome video editing skills)
Sadly, it was taken down 24 hours later. (Tim and the others have multiple copies of it, on the cloud or hardware, hidden around in the manor and their respective safehouses in the US.)
Some people kidnapped Jason to hopefully gain leverage over the Red Hood and to their dismay and nightmares for years to come, Hellbat came instead.
One lucky and incredibly brave reporter asked why she was there instead of her brother.
Mari being a little shit, “Red Hood may be a tough and scary guy but when it comes to his feelings, my brother is a chicken.”
Pictures of Jason tackling Hellbat somehow never made it into any papers.
The criminal underworld hasn’t taken a hint and Jason has been kidnapped a few more times.
Other times Jason was kidnapped:
Robin: Red Hood made a fool of himself in front of Todd recently and he doesn’t dare to show his face.
Spoiler: He was taking too damn long checking his hair even though I told him that no one was going to see it under his helmet and he was so offended that he is currently sulking in the bathroom.
Red Robin: Red Hood can’t think straight when he is around Jason. I mean have you seen the dude.
Arsenal*during a rare visit to Gotham*: Red Hood owes me one now.
Dick finally ends it by going out as Red Hood and rescuing Jason. Gotham is happy that Redson (Red Hood x Jason) ship has finally sailed.
-------
Kate, Babs, Cass, Steph and Mari were out on Mari’s first girls’ night since her move to the manor.
This is set a little after she came back from Paris with Jason.
They watched rom-com movies, did hair and nails, gossip about the superhero community and bitch and vent to each other.
Marinette off-handedly mentioned the crazy shits she had done during her stint as Ladybug. It started with asking about the T-rex in the Batcave and she mentions jumping into the mouth of a live one before.
Everyone in the room was shocked and after a few more questions, it was obvious that she was very reckless and self-sacrificing. Yep, she was going to fit into this crazy family just fine.
And Holy Shit. There is so much trauma packed into this kid. She needs lots of therapy.
Babs finally decided that they all needed to get out and have some fun. All in their respective suits and they went out.
Joined by Harley, Ivy and Selina.
Plagg came along because I want Plagg to meet Selina.
It was a chaotic night and it was a miracle that Bruce didn’t find out about what the girls did.
-------
Batman and Red Hood were on patrol together when Selina jumped in front of them.
“Hello, Boys”
“What do you want, Catwoman?”
“I want to meet my new prodigy, Kitty Noire.”
Cue Marinette jumping down from her hiding spot, transformed with the Black Cat Miraculous. “Hiya.”
Red Hood carries her like a potato sack and points his gun at the other two.
“Nope, she’s my sister and I called dibs. I adopted her. She’s off limits.”
“Legally, she’s mine.” Batman coughed out.
“I did it first. Emotionally. She’s my emotional support sister. You have plenty kids already, B and Selina, get your own.”
“Hey, I am still here and can hear you.”- Maria
-------
Alya was worried for Lila. She had been acting weirdly for the past month.
She looked very out of sorts. Her clothes weren’t in order and her hair was in disarray. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes looked wild. Lila didn’t look like herself at all.
She jumped at any sound and flinched at really sudden movements.
Alya tried to find out what was wrong with Lila and received vague answers.
One time Lila said that Marinette is to blame.
Alya reaches the somewhat right conclusion that Marinette was haunting Lila and hurting her because Lila used to come to school with bruises and claims that Marinette did it.
Alya goes to Marinette’s grave to desecrate it. (Yeah, go anger the ghost that is haunting someone.)
Unfortunately, the moment she tries to do something, the sky turns dark, clouds appear and the wind begins whipping. A Lightning strike near her and there was a cloaked figure beside her with a scythe.
All Alya saw from the figure was the blood-red lips in a very sharp grin and glowing blue eyes, raising the scythe high before she ran away. The scythe swiped the air where her head once was.
Alya didn’t get far before she tripped and blacked out.
When she woke up, she found herself in the hospital with no idea how she got there.
She was told that somebody found her with a concussion in the park and took her to the hospital.
------
The next one on Mari’s hit list was Natalie.
She wasn’t as involved in the whole thing like Lila, Adrien or Gabriel but she still did it anyways.
Her punishment is a little mild compared to the others and was more of a warning to Gabriel.
Natalie woke up in the middle of the night to see a not-so-dead Ladybug sitting on her vanity chair with the moonlight from the windows illuminating her body and her neck. Her suit was torn exactly like the day of that battle with blood dripping down her arms and from her open wounds. The shadows kept her face hidden but glowing blue eyes stared at her.
Natalie was scared at first. But she regained her normal cool composure.
“I assume you are here to extract your revenge for aiding in your unfortunate demise. But before you kill me, I regret my part in my entire thing and I apologize for everything I have done against you even though I knew it was wrong.”
“At least you show remorse over what you have done. Visiting my grave when even my parents didn’t and leaving flowers. I love those purple hyacinths by the way. Did you know that they mean sorry in the language of the flowers?”
“Why are you stalling my death? Just kill me already.”
“Madam Sancouer. You just played a minor role in my downfall compared to what Adrien and Lila Rossi did to me. And you showed more guilt over your actions than they ever did and Adrien claimed to have loved me. And like I have told the Bats, Death is too swift of a punishment.”
“Who are the bats?”
“None of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself.”
“Lila sees the ghosts of her past and they haunt her. Adrien is in a living nightmare and has no control over his actions and is despised by everyone. What are you going to do to me?”
“Well, since you show some guilt over your actions, let me tell you a little secret. I am not dead. Not really. I mean I did die. But there was a spell in the grimoire that revived me. It took a few days to work.”
Marinette changed to her normal form. It was a little jarring to see an older Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting on her vanity chair like it was a throne. The Ladybug suit and the wounds were gone. She looked a little familiar.
“Why are you telling me this? What was the point?” Natalie faltered as she wondered why the girl looked familiar. Marinette moved closer and her face was fully illuminated by the moonlight.
“I intend to take everything by which I mean everything from Gabriel Agreste for what he did.”
“M. Agreste just wanted his wife back. You just gave him your Miraculous, you would still have everything.”
“What difference would it make? Sure I had friends and family before but they turned out to be disappointing. I might have become a famous designer like I dreamed of and can't achieve because I died. Besides, he never said about wanting his wife to come back in his tedious monologues. For all we knew back then, he wanted them for world domination. He showed that he would end the world for them. For kwamis’ sake, he nearly started World War III, just for a pair of earring and a ring. He was willing to kill me to have her back. No wait, he did that too. If he actually read the translated grimoire or asked the Guardian or at least someone with magic for help instead or maybe used his head and made some who can heal as his champion using the Butterfly, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Face it, Mme Sancour, your boss is a power-hungry and very controlling maniac who is also thankfully an idiot.”
“But- he- he just-. You are just a child, what do you know? M. Agreste knew what he was doing.”
“A child who had a normal life up until he tried to ruin it with his idiotic schemes and hiring Lila to do it. A child who had to fight a war on her own.”
“I am sorry you had to go through that but I doubt you and your little revenge rampage is going to solve anything.”
Ghostly Chains wrapped around Natalie’s body, squeezing tight like it was squeezing the life out of her.
“I was all for sparing you, you know. If you had actually listened to my side of the story, you would have spared from my ‘little revenge rampage’. This is going to be a little painful. Sorry about that.” In a tone that was definitely not sorry.
Pain coursed through Natalie’s body. Her skin crawled and itched as pitch back feathers grew out of it. Her bones turned to dust and reformed.
Where Natalie Sancour once was, there was a raven.
An omen of death and destruction for one Gabriel Agreste.
Marinette leaned down towards the raven. Natalie tried to peck her eye out but Marinette held the beak in a firm grip.
“Ah. ah ah. Luckily for you this is temporary. Mostly. Every night, you will assume this shape and each night the longer you will stay in this form. Slowly counting down the days until Gabriel’s downfall. Since you love helping him so much, you are going to help him know how long he has to live. The night you are a raven from sunset to sunrise, that sunrise starts the day Gabriel Agreste will be utterly destroyed.”
She released the beak and headed towards the window.
"Send him my regards."
With that, she was gone.
(Part 6)
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Time Can Heal (But This Won’t) Chapter Three: Bloodstains
You’ve been a lone demigoddess, daughter of Hecate, ever since your home of Hellas sank beneath the waves centuries ago. You loved the Darkling until he crossed you and you fled the Little Palace. Now you’re disguised as a mere cartographer. Can you face him again, knowing what he’s done?
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There was no way around it, no way to avoid it. Like it or not, you would be returning to the only place you’ve ever truly called home since you left behind the sinking shores of Hellas, past a people who would never rise again. You had seen Os Alta built, walked the newly constructed halls of the Grand and Little Palaces with the Darkling before you knew enough to run from him. This is where you’ll be going- not to a new future, but a chance to drown in all the memories you’ve tried so hard to forget.
However, you’ll have to survive the journey to Os Alta first. You’re not here as an esteemed guest or prisoner, you’re here as a double, a lure. Someone who can be killed so that Alina Starkov walks out alive. You know this as well as your ice-eyed Darkling who rides next to you, who thinks nothing of you but that you share a name with a woman he thought he could manipulate. That is all.
So you force your gaze away from the Darkling and back towards your hands, which grip the reins of your offered steed. You mentally catalogue the scant few weapons you had on you before you were dragged along after Alina- two knives, a medium length dagger, and the small pistol all First Army soldiers were forced to have on them. You’ve never particularly cared for guns, though- they’re dirty, loud things, nothing compared to the damage you could wreak with a syllable from your tongue. Then again, if it came down to it, you’d rather have a pistol in your palm then risk using your magic in front of the Darkling. In the end, you’re here to stay hidden, not reveal yourself in the most dramatic way possible.
That being said, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. You’ve learned long ago to listen to the voices that whisper past your ear, speaking of dangers lurking in the woods and ill-intentioned beings who wait for women who walk alone. Some are remnants of past protection spells, and others are shades from the Underworld who’d managed to conjure up some corporeal strength and warn you of an attack. You are the last living Hellenid to walk the earth, and so they feel duty-bound to protect you. Through you, your people live on, and so even the dead watch your back.
So when the voices come, you listen. Your eyes flicker shut for just a second as you listen, past the thump of your heart and the pattern of horse hooves on the dusty ground. The carriage rolls noisily some distance in front of you, and then you hear it stop. Around the bend, you hear the disgruntled mutterings of the guards even though they’re too far for a human ear to pick up. A tree has fallen down, blocking the path. You know it’s a trap even before the shots ring out.
You hear the choked screams of men falling with arrows through their throats and eyes and begin to panic. They’ve come for Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner who could damn the Fjerdans to a lifetime under Ravka’s watchful eye. They’ve come to kill her. You sense the Darkling rearing his horse beside you, and his stallion picks up into a canter. You don’t have to say a word, just listen to his commands to his men. There are more men attempting to circle behind you and pick you off, you can distract them and the remaining attackers trying to get into the carriage.
A Heartrender turns to you, gesturing for his fellow Grisha to follow you. “Come, Alina! We have to get you to safety!” This command is far too loud for any self-respecting Second Army soldier to ever utter, but to the Fjerdans, it is nothing out of the ordinary. Ravka already swears by its legions of witches, why shouldn’t the ice-haired drüskelle believe themselves above the pathetically obvious Grisha? They follow you without a second thought.
You wait a minute, listening to the sound of boots crashing through the forest floor after you, then jump down from your horse in one swift motion. Your knives appear in your hands and you sprint towards your attackers, knocking them down again and again. You slam the hilt of one knife into a Fjerdan’s nose, and you can hear the bone shatter as if it was your own. Light flashes off of the Grisha steel blades as you slash and stab, drawing blood without taking a break.
A small part of your mind gleefully notices the way the Fjerdans are running towards you now, drawn towards the sunlight reflected by your knives. They think you the Sun Summoner now, all because of metal polished to a shine. And why shouldn’t they? You have enough power to tear this continent in half, to let the sun pierce the planet’s very core. Why shouldn’t you be feared? Why shouldn’t you be the Sun Summoner yourself?
The man in front of you cries out, and you come back to your senses. Your eyes follow your knife, twisting in his windpipe, and you withdraw it hastily. You wipe the scarlet blood on the grass before turning to fight another Fjerdan attacker, but none come forward. You realize that they’re all dead, either by your hand or by the Heartrenders. Although, you notice with a sickening twist, most are killed by you. You’re supposed to be a shy First Army soldier, and you’re not exactly playing your part quite right.
Across a clearing, you see the Darkling helping Alina to her feet. She looks stunned, most likely due to the body of a Fjerdan lying at her toes. It’s been sliced perfectly in half- so he’s used the Cut. No wonder she looks as if the world has just been exposed for being woven from nightmares. She glances over at you and blanches even further. Shame twists in your gut as you realize your hands are covered in blood, none of it yours. You were borne of a race of warriors, fighting has been in your history for as long as Hellas has stood. To Alina Starkov, however, this is a massacre like she’s never seen before. You carefully sheath your knives again once you’re sure there’s no blood left on them.
You stare at the bodies, forcing your eyes to remember every last detail. May your gods or their Saints watch over them, wherever they may go. You don’t have enough coins to place under their tongues as per the Hellan tradition, although even if you did you couldn’t risk drawing the Darkling’s attention with such a specific ritual. Instead, you burn their faces into your mind. Memories and legacies were how your people retained their power, and being forgotten was a large part of how they crumbled away. At last you can remember these men.
A voice sounds from in front of you, and you look up hastily. “Do not pity them. They attacked the Sun Summoner, your friend.” The Darkling stands before you, something strange in his eyes. You’ve seen this look before, a few centuries ago. You had been careful to hide the true extent of your magic from him, perhaps knowing even then that he would want nothing more from you then the power you could give him.
In that long ago instant, you had let go, allowing your spells to run wild as stallions through the air. You were attacked, yes, but you had used it as an excuse for true bloodshed. It had been so long since you had truly tested your limits, always making sure to hide what you truly were, even from the other Grisha. You wanted to see what you could do, just this once. Even then, you were just scratching the surface, but the wash of inky emerald over the scene threatened to drown out the world. Bodies dropped, trees were stripped of bark, entire buildings crumbled despite the strongest of foundations.
The few other Grisha present looked at you with true horror, but not the Darkling. No, he looked at you as he does now, with a sort of hunger that could consume entire countries and never be filled. He saw no girl or lover, he saw a weapon. He saw you standing before him, pulling a blade from your chest and offering him the hilt. He’d take it, not caring (or even relishing) your blood still dripping from the blade. The things he could do with you were unimaginable even in your worst nightmares, and it would never be enough. The worst part is that you thought you might go along with it, that you’d be willing to watch the end of the world with him.
This is how the Darkling looks at you now, a weapon ready for the taking. You remember hastily that he’s likely expecting something of you, so you duck your chin and do your best to summon up the modesty expected by the likes of Y/N Stassov, mapmaker and nothing more. “It’s just, well, a lot of death.” The Darkling inclines his head. “Maybe. Where did you learn to fight like that?” You don’t like this line of questioning, where it could lead. “The First Army. Sir.”
The Darkling’s lips quirk at the last minute honorific. “I’ve seen no First Army mapmaker who could take out a dozen Fjerdans with a pair of knives. Maybe I should send some of my soldiers to learn from your generals.” You panic, sure he’s testing you, then realize that he’s joking. Ridiculous. You force a smile. “I think they’re probably fine with their heartrending and all that.” The two of you have begun walking back to the horses now. The Darkling mounts his steed, then looks back at you. “Maybe so.” When he takes off, you’re not sure which scares you most- him figuring out who you are, or the idea that he would not look for you at all.
The Darkling calls for the party to take a respite that night, waiting until the moon shines low in the sky for everyone to tie up their horses and rest in a long-abandoned barn. Alina runs over to you as soon as she gets off of her mount, flinging her arms around you in gratitude. You can tell from the hammering of her heart whenever she looks at the Darkling that she hasn’t forgotten his use of the Cut, and probably won’t for a while.
“Saints, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t do this alone.” You can sense the eyes of the Darkling and the other Grisha on your back, and you know what’s expected of you. To them, you are no more than an otkazat’sya mapmaker, someone utterly unworthy of their Sun Summoner’s company. They’ll leave you to make your way back to Kribirsk when Alina is safe at the Little Palace, and they no doubt expect you to make her path easier.
So, you smile, smoothing back an errant piece of her hair into place. “That’s a lie, and we both know that. If you can punch an irritating officer or survive the Fold, you can ride a horse to Os Alta. Promise.” Alina rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.” You raise an eyebrow. “It totally is. Believe me. Now come on, chasing after you all day is exhausting. I intend to go to sleep right now.” Alina grins. “That sounds good to me.”
Despite your weary eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep at all. Alina sleeps next to you, the few Grisha lookouts stand unmoving at their posts. Eventually, you get sick of tossing and turning and staring up through the rotting beams through the barn roof. You stand, making your way quietly out of the barn. If the sentries see you, they do not stop you. Evidently, they trust you enough to let you walk around, or they view you as useless enough to not stop you from trying to run. Either works for you.
You don’t go far, just outside of the doors lying at odd angles on their hinges. You take a seat on a rusting metal bench, leaning back against the faded paint of the barn walls. You stare up at the sky, eyes tracing the constellations. Somewhere up in the night, there were once heroes and monsters, prideful queens and stubborn kings whose stories were famous enough to warrant them a place amongst the stars. You’ve been looking for them for a while, though, and know that the skies are empty of all souls who were once cast up there. It’s just another reminder that you are well and truly alone. The last remainder of a long dead culture.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” You startle, turning to see the Darkling walking out of the barn beside you. You manage to cover up your surprise with an apology. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d woken anybody.” The Darkling shrugs. “You didn’t. I was already awake.” This feels somewhat surreal- here you sit, a false face and a fake history as a farmer turned soldier. Here stands the Darkling, looking just the same as always. It makes no sense, though- why would he keep seeking you out? Why would the general of the Second Army keep looking for an otkazat’sya soldier? He must know you, somehow. There’s no other explanation for it.
The Darkling clears his throat. “Thank you for speaking to Alina. I appreciate your words.” You dismiss the gratitude with a lift of your shoulder. “She’s my friend. I couldn’t exactly make her feel worse, could I?” The Darkling turns to look at you now, familiar quartz eyes seeming to tear you in two. “You could. You could have refused to play along with the role of double, you could have refused to fight by her side, you could have done your best to turn her away from us. You did none of that.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I could have resisted a team of the most skilled Grisha in all of Ravka? I intend to keep my life.” Something almost like a smile appears on the Darkling’s lips. You’ve seen this look before, in sunset afternoons and deepest nights. It’s so familiar that it seems to cut at you like a knife. You almost want to call out to him now- know me, please. Remember me. If you look close enough, you will see the woman you pretended to love. We could pretend again, if we wanted to.
You silent the murmurings, and he speaks again. “All the same, it was appreciated.” You turn back towards the sky, partly to take in the sight of the night sky again and partially to hide the smile giddily appearing on your own face. How is that after all this time, all these hurts, he still has this effect on you? “Well, I want her to have some good memories after this. I’ll be shipped back to Kribirsk, I don’t really want to leave on bad terms.”
The Darkling remains silent for so long that you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, opened up too much. A simple mapmaker would never confide in a centuries-old Shadow Summoner, he must suspect something. Surely, hopefully, he does. But instead, he turns to you, a softness present in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It rounds the edges of his quartz gaze, making it easier to fall hard and fast. “You aren’t going to leave for Kribirsk. You’re staying in Os Alta.”
You stare at him, night sky forgotten. “What? But I’m no Sun Summoner.” The Darkling laughs quietly in the night. “No, but few of us are. I have a personal guard, the oprichniki. I would like you to begin training with them once we arrive.” The sentence is phrased so casually that it almost floats by you completely undetected. The monumental weight of the words, however, is enough to shake you whole. The oprichniki are not Grisha, so you would fit in, but they are the Darkling’s special guards. Only the toughest and bravest of fighters are selected, certainly not a mapmaker who’s best skill is pretending to be a Sun Summoner.
You tell him as much, so stunned by this that you forget to hold your tongue. When you remember who you are and who you’re doing your best to pretend you’re not, you wish you had remained silent. For some reason, however, the Darkling doesn’t seem taken aback by this momentary lapse. Instead, it just makes his lips twitch even more. He is most certainly hiding a smile. “I saw you fight, Miss Stassov. If you can do that without any of our training at all, I’d say you’re a good candidate.”
You lean back against the barn wall. “Oprichnik. Me.” You whistle quietly, letting the sound echo in the night air like the call of a dove. The Darkling inclines his head. “You are free to turn the offer down at any point-” his smile grows at your raised eyebrow- “Although it is not an offer I take lightly. You have potential. Besides, keeping you in Os Alta will be a support for Miss Starkov.”
You furrow your brow. “I thought you would want to separate her from her old life, not keep having ties to it.” It’s what the Darkling would do when you knew him. He would have cut out another mapmaker without a second thought. The Darkling considers this. “Perhaps. But if she feels too alone, she may draw in on herself and feel unwilling to use her power at all. You have your merits, Miss Stassov. Perhaps more than you see yourself.”
You barely hear him when he goes back inside the barn. He has always had this ability to disguise his footsteps, letting the shadows cloak him in sound as well as in sight. For once, it doesn’t trouble you. Instead, you’re troubled by the future ahead of you. If you were an oprichnik, a guard loyal only to him, there would be even more chance of the Darkling finding out that you were Hecari, the woman he’d loved and who had run from him, feigning death rather than stay by his side and fear his knife.
Being near him, though, it makes you think back to every moment you’d shared. Could it be possible that you had misheard? Would the man you know, the man drenched by moonlight who makes offers of joining the ranks of the oprichniki to mapmakers he’s barely met, truly want you dead? The answer is yes, you know that. But your heart whispers differently, telling you that you could be wrong on this. You’ve always trusted your whispers, the ghosts of the past. The only problem is that these aren’t Hellenid spirits now, they’re your own. Longings for what might have been, what you left behind.
In the end, you retreat back inside the barn. When you sleep, you dream of a quartz-eyed boy, dark-haired and smiling before he thought to use you.
series tag list: fave @underc0vercryptid, @hotleaf-juice, @aleksanderwh0r3, @kaqua, @nemesis729, @imma-too-many-fandoms
#the darkling#the darkling imagines#the darkling x reader#the darkling oneshot#the darkling series#aleksander morozova#aleksander morozova imagines#aleksander morozova x reader#aleksander morozova oneshot#aleksander morozova series#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagines#shadow and bone oneshot#shadow and bone series#grishaverse#grishaverse imagines#grishaverse oneshot#grishaverse series#sab#sab imagines#sab oneshot#sab series#general kirigan#general kirigan imagines#general kirigan x reader#general kirigan oneshot#general kirigan series
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Stubborn Romance
A little piece of domestic joy for the Demon Bull family.
Red Son is trying to sort through his own feelings and chooses to seek help from a only constant married couple in his life.
Enjoy the latest addition to my Vanishing Shadow Au.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
It was a peaceful night. The latest of many ever since the Demon Bull King had been released from the strange energy.
Red Son had been analyzing the frequency, trying to pinpoint exactly what that power was. So far the results confused him. The more he searched the more the readings looked like a living entity.
Princess Iron Fan was busy trying to convince her stubborn husband he needed to rest. The battle with Wukong’s successor had been far more damaging than they let on. With the power straining his body, mind, and soul, he was in no condition to fight. Their personal healer stated that he was to limit himself to minimal physical activities for at least ten days.
Princess Iron Fan had decreed that all their projects for conquering and expanding their territory be put on hold until they returned to their full strength.
Unfortunately, this left Red Son with far too much time of his hands. He mind kept circling back to Macaque’s words. He was of age to begin courting a mate or at least start looking for a potential partner. He couldn’t simply say he had a crush on the Monkie Kid. The roof wouldn’t survive.
Maybe there was a way to develop a truce, after all his father once considered Wukong a brother. Perhaps he could arrange something similar. But to do that he would need to get closer to the boy without alerting his family to his plans.
And that is how he found himself standing before his parents in his father’s personal study.
“Father, if I may ask, how did you court mother?”
Instead of looking annoyed, DBK surprised his son by gaining a fond expression. “Hm, hm. I was wondering when you were going to ask. Finally, found a potential mate?” He asked, with a smug look.
His mother wore a strange expression of joy and irritation.
“Not exactly. But you’ve never told me how you two met or how you courted her.” Red Son corrected. It wouldn't do to lead them on a mystery they could never be allowed to solve.
Princess Iron Fan settled herself on her throne-like chair. “Well, our courtship was a tad unusual for the time period. Now there is so much going on, no one cares who asks who or which gender kidnaps which.” Then again it never really mattered back then either. Strength was the rule of the land, if you couldn’t defend your own what good were you as a ruler. But at the time, it was expected for the man to kidnap the woman.
The family’s matriarch summon a fresh pot of tea, as a servant poured she began reminiscing on her origins. “It all started when your father chose to test his strength against my father’s army. I was but a humble human, a daughter to small-time royalty, not meant for much.”
Seeing her cup had been poured and a tray of appropriate snacks had been arranged, she dismissed every servant in the room. Wisely, they ran as though the gatekeepers of the underworld were after their souls.
“When your father trampled soldier after soldier most turned away in hatred or disgust, but me…” Princess Iron Fan shuddered as the blood splatter filled her mind followed by the agonized cries of the weak. “I couldn’t get enough. There was such passion, such strength. Far beyond anything that pitiful court had ever provided me.”
Red Son could only stare, he’d never seen his mother in such a state.
“Little did I know he had caught sight of me.”
Hearing his cue, the demonic bull happily took the reigns. “She was unlike any being I’d ever witnessed. Gods and demons alike paled to her beauty. Just from the mere glance I was permitted, I saw someone who possessed the cunning and strength to become so much more.” In his youth, he encountered many beings who claimed the title of beautiful, but until he laid eyes on that goddess he never knew the meaning of the word.
“He sent me the most ridiculous letters. The poetry was so bad.” She laughed at the mere memory of them.
“I told you it wasn’t my strong suit.” He joked, not at all ashamed of his past ineptitude. Look where it got him.
“Doesn’t change the fact each one was horrible, but I think that made me appreciate them even more.” She took his hand, gently laying her cheek against his palm. “The language was raw and powerful, nothing like the clean and precise work from my other suitors. All others simply wanted my hand for heirs or increase their status, but he was different. I wrote him back and with each letter, we grew ever closer. Every day I received a letter without fail. It showed his dedication, but most of all it proved he wanted to know me. It was a whole new world.”
“But it wasn’t enough. I needed to meet her in person, to hear her voice, to see the power dance in her eyes. But that worthless king refused to submit, even though most of his army lay dead at my feet. One would have thought he would be bowing to his daughter, knowing she was the only reason I had bothered being so gentle.” He would never have been able to forgive himself had he inadvertently harmed his love by unleashing his full power. It would have demolished the barrier between them, but there was a strong chance it would have destroyed the palace itself.
Princess Iron Fan took a delicate sip, lips curved in a wicked smirk. “I organized a small distraction that allowed your father the opportunity to bypass the wards and seals protecting the palace. Once he was inside, I altered them to ensure the inhabitants had become my prisoners, including your father.”
He chuckled remembering how he walked in only to be restrained, forced to kneel before the one who had effortlessly captured his heart. A quick look around proved he was far from her only captive. “She had heard of a few of the more common demon traditions and decided to make them her own. It was breathtaking.” How could he be mad at one who put so much effort into proving herself the perfect mate?
“The palace became our first fortress. In a matter of days, we were wed and we got to know each other properly.” Princess Iron Fan leaned in close, wind calmly circling her form.
“She granted me the highest honor by casting aside her humanity to become a demon. She agreed to walk by my side for all eternity, no matter what trials lay before us.” The massive demon locked eyes with his princess and queen of his heart. “ Truly the greatest victory I had ever known.”
With that, the two fell silent, lost in their memories and feelings towards each other.
Seeing that the conversation was over, Red Son gave an awkward cough as he slowly back-peddled towards the door. “Thank you...I think I have an engine running...somewhere, that’s not here.” Closing the door behind him, he quickly conjured a vortex of flame.
In the depths of his personal workshop, Red Son emerged just done.
Staring at his personal projects, half-finished blueprints, and fits of whimsy he could only collapse on the first chair he could find. ‘So I inherited my mother’s love for powerful dorks.’
“Terrific.”
#lego monkie kid au#Vanishing Shadow Au#red son#princess iron fan#demon bull king#iron bull#spicynoodleshipping#Ironbullshipping#embarassing parents
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Majokko Lily
I am fascinated by magical girl terminology and the evolution thereof. After all, the words and phrases we use to describe the facets of this genre had to come from somewhere. Sometimes these origins are unambiguous. For example, the now-defunct Magical Girl Project blog made a series of posts in 2015 examining the history of magical girl transformations, and an early step in that process was coining a bunch of terms for the different types of transformation.
Other times, magical girl word origins aren't so clear cut. Some of these terms have been in use for decades and I can only hazard a guess at how long they've been around based on when they start showing up in completed productions. The term magical girl itself is a pretty direct translation of the Japanese mahou shoujo (literally magic girl), and the first anime to use mahou shoujo in its' title was Mahou Shoujo Lalabel, which began airing in 1980.
Then there's what magical girls were called before that, which doesn't seem to be as solidified. Asahi Sonorama put out a compilation record featuring the protagonists of Toei's first eight magical girl anime, and this record referred to them as mahoutsukai heroines. Mahoutsukai literally means magic user, so it's interesting that Limit and Honey were included in this despite using advanced science and technology. Even as far back as the 70s, magic was not a prerequisite for being a magical girl.
At any rate, a far more common name for this type of character was majokko. Majo is Japanese for witch, while ko has a number of meanings, one of which is girl, and it can be used as a diminutive suffix. As such, majokko can be translated as witch girl or little witch. Like with mahoutsukai heroine above, it's interesting that few of these characters were technically witches, though I suppose that's a matter of semantics. Again, I haven't found an in-depth explanation of where this term came from, so all I have to go on is productions that use it. 1974's Majokko Megu-chan was the first anime to put the word majokko in the title, and for a while I though it may have coined the term. But it turns out, there is a manga that dubbed its' protagonist a majokko about six years prior.
Majokko Lily is a 1968 manga by Kiyoshi Takenaka. An ordinary girl named Deko-chan is given a peculiar-looking doll for her birthday, but it turns out Lily is no doll. She's a witch from the underworld who has come to our world to make mischief. She sets herself up to pose as Deko's younger sister and when the two touch noses, Deko is able to use magic as well.
This set-up has some similarities to later magical girl works, especially Majokko Tickle (which, for context, was created ten years later); however, Lily's character design and power set strike me as quite unique. The above page explains Lily's various magical abilities, and while I don't know nearly enough Japanese to translate it in its' entirety, there are some powers listed on it that I haven't seen in any other magical girl series before or since.
Majokko Lily was published in Shogaku Sannensei, and unfortunately it has been quite difficult to track down exactly when that publication was. As near as I can tell, the debut chapter was printed in the April 1968 issue, given that it was the oldest issue to show Lily on the cover. While I don't have an exact chapter count, a single tankobon volume was released by Mushi Productions as the 6th volume of their Best Comic series on March 25, 1972.
But wait there's more! This manga would receive a direct sequel titled Oshikake Majokko Lily (Oshikake I think in this context would mean uninvited visitor but please correct me if I'm wrong) which ran in Shogaku Sannensei until the March 1972 issue. How the sequel differs from the original, I'm not sure. The tankobon release by Mushi Productions only covered the original series, meaning this sequel has never been printed outside of its' original magazine run. As well, even that one volume has never been reprinted, which has kept awareness of the manga quite low, even in comparison to other titles I've covered here.
Majokko Lily was created by Kiyoshi Takenaka, not to be confused with Kiyoko Takenaka, the latter of whom did the third manga of Bewitched. It is interesting that both created a small handful of obscure shoujo manga around the same time, and I have seen some speculation that they may have been either related or one person using a pseudonym, but as far as I know there's never been any confirmation of this. Personally, my money is on weird coincidence.
Although I can't say this with 100% certainty, Majokko Lily appears to be the first series to use the word majokko in its' title. I doubt Takenaka invented the word, but from there it would show up in the titles of a number of other magical girl stories. This includes early magical girl anime such as Majokko Megu-chan, Majokko Tickle, and Majokko Club, as well as some more recent anime like Majokko Shimai no Yoyo to Nene, not to mention manga that should be showing up on this blog as we get into the 80s and 90s, including Majokko Carnival, Majokko Tenshi, and Majokko Vivian.
Not all of these protagonists are witches in the technical sense, but referring to them as majokko highlights their commonalities to a potential audience. It associates these different works with one another, emphasizing that they're a part of the same genre, and allowing that genre to develop a core viewer base. Even now, the same thing is done with different terms, and it's incredible to look back at how far we've come.
#my posts#long post#Majokko Lily#魔女っ子リリー#Oshikake Majokko Lily#おしかけ魔女っ子リリー#Kiyoshi Takenaka#竹中きよし#Shogaku Sannensei#60s#shoujo#It was A Time™ trying to find specific details about this manga#so apologies for how wishy-washy some of the details sound and how incomplete certain sections are.#Also#literally the same morning I posted about not having any 70s manga in my timeline#I found three!
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