#can't die extremely powerful? magic is all around? other immortals?

[what-would-have-happened]

Fanfiction Masterlist Post!

Longfics first, then oneshots, split into fandoms; I’ll post everything I’ve written here that I think is worth sharing. If a fic’s got a main ship, I’ll put it in italics next to the summary, as well as any other note. All fic titles are links.

My Hero Academia Fanfics

Unicorn Tuesday: In which Himiko is adopted by the Iidas, Hitoshi is best friends with an amnesiac Dabi, Katsuki has magic powers, Shouto and Zuko bodyswap every Tuesday, and Denki is dEfInItELy nOT the UA traitor. Yes, this is an ATLA crossover.

in another life: In which Katsuki is quirkless (mostly), Izuku has an Erasure quirk (not really), Fumikage has One for All (halfway), Monoma is a Todoroki (he isn’t) and Tenya and Denki will have to fight for a happy ending. Iida/Kaminari

box: Enji and Rei are villains. Everything changes. Toga/Todoroki, Nejire/Tamaki

what would have happened: In which Bakugou and a Todoroki Nomu time travel, Touya runs away with his brothers and adopts Eri and Shinsou, multiple people are not quite villains (but not quite heroes either), Eraserhead has no idea what's going on, the LoV arrests an army, and Natsuo is the only person with any amount of common sense. Shigaraki/Natsuo

until it breaks: MHA actor AU.

six miles: Autopotency: a system, having complete knowledge and power over itself. Katsuki and Touya don’t have the knowledge, exactly, but they’re trying their best with what they have. For one, the power’s a terrible blessing; for the other, it’s a magnificent curse. Or: the disastrous life of bakugou k. (ft touya)

anachronism: Shirakumo can time travel, and so knows when he will die; isn't it odd, that Kurogiri's here? The Todorokis are immortal, and so can't stay dead; isn't it odd, that Touya's gone? Even in a world of quirks, there are anachronisms. This story's about a few of them. Ashido/Sero

hey, brother: There is no such person as Todoroki Shouto; instead, Natsuo has an extremely peculiar quirk. It’s kind of a problem for everyone. Jirou/Toga

Natsuo’s Foolproof Plan to Kidnap Shigaraki Tomura: You know the trope where Shigaraki kidnaps Natsuo to be the League’s medic? This is not that. Shigaraki/Natsuo

the krytos trap: In which Class 1A produces a soap opera. Todoroki/Midoriya

the rest of us just live here: DnD world fantasy AU centered around the Todoroki family. Fuyumi/Ryukuyu

after the end of the world: Modern AU where there are no quirks, villains, or heroes, but everyone plays soccer. There are also soulmates and dimension travel. Shigaraki/Natsuo

Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfics

falling stars, fading scars: Edward and Alphonse, of the year 1917, time travel to when Mustang was fifteen—1895. This has consequences, to say the least.

bother, I left my torch in narnia: It's been twenty years since Ed and Al were stranded on this side of the Gate. Now, with a World War brewing on the horizon, they live a mostly-quiet life in rural England with their friend Alfons. However, things start to get very confusing when Ed, Al, and Alfons take in some evacuee kids from London, and they discover a mysterious portal in Al's old armor...Ed just wants to get the Pevensies home safe, but it seems that Narnia has other plans. Featuring Lion Jesus, dimensional shenanigans, and an unexpected encounter with an old friend. Co-written with @fiddlysticks

the courtship of rebecca catalina: In which Jean Havoc finds a Philosopher's Stone, goes ghost hunting, fights a homunculus, impersonates the Flame Alchemist, prevents the apocalypse, attempts to parent the Elrics, and wins Rebecca's heart--not necessarily in that order. Jean Havoc/Rebecca Catalina

katana: In which Roy Mustang attempts to find the missing Katana Fleet, the Elrics sign up to find it too, a secret organization of Sith is stirring from the shadows, and some Jedi still remain. And Al definitely isn't hiding a big secret. Nope. Star Wars AU.

what doesn’t kill you: What with serial killers, government plots, homunculi, Philosopher's Stones and murderous emperors of Xing all causing trouble, Ed and Al find that getting their bodies back has become significantly harder--and hiding the fact that they lost them in the first place near impossible. But they'll manage it--they've got an entire galaxy counting on them, after all. Mei Chang/Alphonse Elric. Science Fiction AU.

five knives: In which Ed and Al are Ishvalan on their mother's side, immortal on their father's side, Mustang doesn't deserve this amount of Elric Rubbish, soulmarks exist only to cause pain, and the universe is nearly devoured by eldritch tentacles. Mei Chang/Alphonse Elric

we are more than we are (we are one): On a dark and stormy night, three things go terribly wrong. The first: that Ed and Al attempt human transmutation, and pay a toll for crossing the Gate. (I know, you knew that already) The second: that there is no suit of armour in the room. (I know, you've seen this one before) The third: that Winry is nearby, and intervenes. (two become one, become three)

everything is fricked (there are seven Edward Elrics): In which Alphonse gets his body back far earlier than in canon, the Stop-The-Amestris-Death-Circle team does their best, Scieska's conspiracy theories turn out to be true, and Mustang becomes increasingly uncertain of the number of Edward Elrics in the world.

the inevitable fourteenth: On your fourteenth birthday, you swap bodies with your soulmate. This is interesting, to say the least, for Alphonse and Mei. It's a downright disaster for Lust and Havoc. Mei Chang/Alphonse Elric, Lust/Jean Havoc (once I finish writing the second chapter at least)

Avatar: the Last Airbender

not this time: In which Zuko realizes what's wrong with the Fire Nation and becomes the Blue Spirit three years early, Sokka is probably not an earthbender, both boys cause incredible amounts of concern and confusion to their parental figures, soulmarks are a thing, Azula steals her brother's redemption arc, and Captain Rei did not sign up for this. Zuko/Sokka

Yep, just one ATLA fic lol

[acertainmoshke]

Happy WBW Moshke?

Can you tell me a bit more about Fae in Cold Iron? How common are they, what powers do they have, just what flavour of Fae are they?

It's very important to me that the Fae not be sexy magical elves, but have the air of mystery, lack of logic, and general danger that one gets from older legends or, say, @elsewhereuniversity. So Fae all look different than humans with no real pattern and no regard for genetics. They are generally humanoid but their skin can be different colors and textures, their eyes range from differently colored to blank and empty to full of stars, they may have horns or claws or fangs, numbers of appendages are negotiable, etc. Some of them have hollowed out backs full of plants. Some look almost human but just different enough to seem Wrong and dangerous but also painfully, enticingly beautiful.

That last bit is mostly glamour. Fae as a general rule twist the truth rather than lying, but it doesn't hurt to make yourself more attractive to gain trust and distract the target. It's also part of the image of beautiful and intimidating beings and they have a reputation to maintain.

Fae are made of dreams and nightmares and lore, so they can change. Most of them don't know this. They spend most of their time in their own realm (in which dream logic applies, twig forts seem like castles, clouds are made of cotton candy, and Things lurk behind every corner--it can drive an unprepared human mad).

Human children are prized, and it depends on the Fae how they are used once acquired. Some are mere servants who grow at a human rate but are status symbols because of the sacrifice and difficulty in obtaining one. But they've never known any other life and, honestly, they're more second-class citizens than slaves. They work hard and can't leave but have time to themselves and their own social structure, although the Land of Faerie is extremely dangerous to them. Other humans are treated more like adopted children or entertainment. It is not uncommon to freeze their aging based on what they are wanted for, and eternal human children with all their laughter and innocence are particularly popular.

Fae are not immortal, by the way. They just may as well be. As long as they live in their own realm, time bends and stretches and loops around and passes so differently that they might take a nap and have 100 years pass among humans. Fae that leave their own realm to live here have lifespans of anywhere from 300-2000 years, but they do age and die.

Which brings me to Wild Fae and changelings. It is the ancient rule that human children may not be stolen, only traded. This may be through deals or the trade of something so precious it needs no deal--their own children. Fae children are not common or it would become too crowded, but they do exist. It is usually the weaker ones that are given up in trade, so many of them die a natural death young and the human parents never know their child still lives. Sadly, most of the remaining ones are mistreated from the moment their parents realize that their own child is gone. They appear as human babies and the truly noticeable Fae traits don't begin until they are they reach 8-12 (this is true only among Fae children raised here, as their true appearance is masked with a complex glamour that wears off over time). But their behavior and needs are not quite human and others can tell they aren't right. Very few of these children live to be old enough to discover that their aging slows when they reach 15. Generally after that, they will age 1 year for every 2-5 that pass. Changelings that live longer than 500 years are unheard of even in the best of circumstances, what with all the iron exposure in our world. Adult changelings provide some proof that Fae can change their nature, if anyone were to look at the data: they tend to have more human motivations than is in the nature of other Fae and, more obviously, they can lie. One of Shakatra's main tricks is to order something and then convince the person they already paid for it.

Wild Fae are very different but there is a bit of overlap. These are Fae raised in their own realm who chose to move to ours. These are not the Fae that wander the woods tricking people, providing a night of passion with eternal debt or making impossible deals with desperate humans. Those tend to be more noble Fae with more freedom and power (the more magical power a Fae has, the more social power they have. This is a direct correlation because horrible things tend to happen to someone who tries to take more social power than they can fight to hold onto). Wild Fae may be after wealth or the kind of power they cannot get at home, but most of them live on the fringes, preying on vulnerable people and living in rough groups. Most of them were either banished for an offense or treated so poorly they would rather be anywhere else, because most of our world is poison to them for long periods. I need to figure out more of what they do with their time later, but I do know that sometimes they take in abandoned changelings, but they don't treat them kindly. Kris ran away from such a group when he was 7 because being alone was preferable.

Annnnnnd I just re-read your ask and realized I didn't answer either of the questions you actually asked. So: all Fae have some glamour ability, some Sight (not necessarily of the future, but of the truth of things), and a natural tendency towards trickery. Most have some other magical ability, but they vary widely, from fire/ice/other elements to plants to speaking with/controlling animals to making words/images become real to shapeshifting, and on and on. They follow no more logic than their appearances, but generally there is overlap between the weakest Fae magic and the abilities of the strongest human sorcerers. Shakatra, having honed their ability in a fight-to-survive kind of way, is strong for a changeling but that still puts them on par with the lowest of the 9 noble ranks. Changelings build up some immunity from direct iron contact, but the constant exposure keeps them relatively weak.

As for how many, it is literally impossible to say how many exist, but there are small clusters of Wild Fae in most human cities. Few people notice them and they tend to cause fairly minor mischief.

Oh, and of course Names have power. So every Fae has a true name--which tends to be long--and something they are called. Fae have a natural attachment to a single true name and do not need to change their moniker, but changelings and humans with common Fae interactions do because we are likely to get attached to something we are called for too long until it begins to describe us.

Thank you SO much for the chance to infodump about this!!

#moshke writes #writeblr #worldbuilding wednesday #Cold Iron

[echowilds]

y'know i just realized that 'characters whose internal magic system is fucked' is a bit of a theme for me

hanni

as aurene's champion they're always soaked in her magic. they aren't really branded but you can definitely tell they're a dragon champion based on their magical signature

as i mentioned before, they absorbed a part of balthazar's magic, which changed their own magic's signature more towards fire

but even before that they unconsciously started walking a very perilous line as they absorbed a lot of latent natural magic just by being the idiot who jumped at any weird magical stuff happening (and ate a good amount of it)

on more grim days they're just waiting to go up in a big explosion

but it's fine! they're working on a solution with taimi! everything is going great!! (sometimes they wonder what would've happened if they jumped in front of ankka's extractor instead of aurene)

they actually used to dabble in alchemy and elixirs but balthazar's magic messed it up entirely for them and most of what they brew now ends up as great explosives but isn't doing what it's actually supposed to do. at least the pact demolitionists are always happy about the results

leikkya

the experiments she was subjected to as a kid included her getting exposed to a low amount of magic continuously for years

while her body had gotten used to it over time, the abrupt cutoff after being freed messed her up again

i'm not entirely sure yet how i want the effects of that to go about but she might be a little addicted to magic. only a little though. it's fine

and two more peeps under the cut because this whole thing got so long

sade

while nowadays their weapons of choice are a disapproving frown, harsh words and noticable disappointment, they used to be an exeptional warrior

they're also old as fuck so when it comes to magic seem to have only improved, both in their control of it and the amount they can wield

but re: that being messed up

there were Things Happening and a sacrifice (though more borne out of a desperation not to die) that didn't work quite as planned and they got the whole magical essence of their closest friend a companion dumped into their own

which generally wouldn't be too big of a problem, but things can't be easy around here. the internal magical essences of the two aren't exactly compatible due to being of very different species and there still being a certain amount of intent left in the dead companion one's

they've had many years to get used to the dichtomy and figure out how to make it work for themselves but it can still flare up from time to time (and fire magic in the archives would be utterly disastrous)

it also seemingly came with immortality. joy. (it's actually just an extremely long lifespan and a.... let's call it failsafe against dying)

laerus

he's probably the least affected in his personal use of magic by the Events That Happened To Him To Make Him That Way out of all my characters but still

glossing over some stuff right now to keep this from devolving into a whole essay he has some souls attached to him (and is attached to them in turn but only emotionally)

there was a failed ritual and lies and betrayal by someone they all trusted and now laerus is the only one with a body, the voices of his allies in his head and some 'minor' temporal displacement

technically he's kind of a revenant now? but none of the other's were really all that powerful magically (and still aren't) and mostly it's made him really good at strategy, human royal ceremonial tasks and observation (spectral eyes that can see behind him are eternally useful). it's also distracting as hell

he's still mainly a necromancer, his soul and magic just have more people attached than what's common

it has made magic trickier for him since he needs to make sure he isn't drawing on the others' magic, but mixed into the usual necromancy green is some blue colour wise

#watch me drop a whole heaping of headcannons about magic in gw2 and then don't explain any of it #well more allude to it but whatever #i promise hanni's section sounds more bleak than it actually is #also i'm using essence here bc i can't think of a better word right now. think of it more like blood but weirder #gw2 #hanni melachondre #leikkya #sade cloudkeeper #laerus dragonfinder #yu's ocs #yu's commanders

[bells-of-black-sunday]

Vampires

Vampires just like werewolves have had conflict with humans for as long as recorded history and were one of the main groups targeted by the monster hunters guild in the past. Though they've seemed to blend in with society seamlessly as they're nocturnal state of being allows many stores to stay open 24/7, because they'll always have employees and clientele. Laws tend to be strict around what blood they can and can't consume to keep them safe from blood borne illness and also those they feed on safe.

Vampires also have a long standing inner not-so-secret society where they hold parties and masquerades, there's even vampires considered royalty within their courts. Though vampires themselves were created by God it is unknown if such a being intended for them to survive. They were created after God cursed all the first to sin to never be able to walk in his light again, this makes them heavily influenced by imagery and symbolism related to that God. Meaning yes: they can be killed by silver and cannot see their reflections in silver mirrors nor do they appear in old photographs just their clothing.

Though vampirism can be cured much like werewolves can, vampires have their own social taboos and cultures preventing clinics to become a vampire from being opened. Not that it stops teenagers from making bad decisions and damning their friends to never being able to walk in sunlight again, but they do their best to keep it regulated.

Vampires come in all shapes and sizes though the more weird they look typically the higher threat they are. They still make the guild nervous just due to their power and influence over humanity, but despite being labeled as threats those are mostly terms that have been grandfathered in and hold a lot of controversy much like the guilds name.

There are no categories for vampires they're just assigned threat levels by the guild to determine how close they have to keep an eye on them.

Threat one

Threat 1 vampires are typically newly sired vampires from threat 2 vampires and below and are the weakest of all vampires. At this point it’s purely an inconvenience, you can’t eat normal food without throwing it back up, you’re susceptible to blood born disease, you may be immortal, but you’ll die instantly in the sun. You may be able to turn other humans, but it is highly frowned upon by other vampires and the guild itself as it is susceptible to go wrong.

Every threat 1 vampire is a walking corpse essentially. Either have have no pulse or it’s barely there making it hard to maintain basic functions.

Threat 2

The most stereotypical a vampire you can get: These are vampires that are very much alive and immortal, they can last a few seconds in the sun and live. Though despite being alive most can’t have offspring and must turn humans to make other vampires. Their abilities aren’t potent, but can be detrimental to humans just maybe not beings like spiritual and natural born werewolves. They may not be able to eat human food or hide what they are, but it doesn’t really matter to most.

Threat 3

Threat 3 is typically the highest threat level you see, these may not be first born vampires, but they are closely related to them. These are the strongest vampires that aren’t the first vampires or those that have consumed other strong vampires to be on that level. The guild closely monitors these vampires to make sure if they know what they're doing and where they live in case something happens. Despite this, these vampires tend to be the high class of vampire society.

Their magic is extremely potent and they can last in the sunlight for a whole minute before dying, they can’t see their reflections and much like werewolves silver being a holy metal is severely damaging to them. 

Threat 4

Reserved purely for the strongest vampires mainly being what’s left of the first ones and big names like Dracula or Nosferatu.

#ooc #world building; monster

[thegroundsofbrooklyn]

heavily brainrotting a very very specific ship dynamic because it's stuck in my mind and GOD I LOVE IT

i am currently living for fantasy ships with the main character who's new to magic but extremely naturally powerful and their partner who's extremely calm and smooth right up until someone hurts the main character. and then all hell breaks loose

or alternatively:

- highly trained human assassin without magic

- extremely powerful several-hundred-year-old non-human magic person who is also a highly trained assassin

- non-human meets human. they fall in love

- human finds out non-human is magic. they fall even more in love

- they fight side by side. but someone hurts / kills the human. and the non-human goes fucking ballistic. but in a calm angry way yknow

- this non-human has lived for hundreds, if not thousands of years. they have learnt time and time again that all immortality means is watching the people you live die again and again and again. but they just couldn't help but fall in love. and now they pay the price.

i honestly have no idea what characters this could apply to it could literally be any fandom ever but. i got carried away writing a template map kind of thing so have some overly angsty writing. using pronouns that imply mlm because i'm extremely, extremely gay but feel free to sapphic-ify it. or straight-ify it tbh but idk why you would do that /lh

cw for (very quick) mentions of blood / knives

Evil Person tightens their grip around Human's throat, their knife digging deeper in, Human gasping in pain as blood wells around the sharp metal. Evil Person's eyes narrow.

'Just give up. You can't win ... give up or he dies.'

Non-Human looks more vulnerable than ever, pain overflowing in his eyes as he watches Human begin to lose consciousness. Human's eyes, half closed, meet Non-Human's. His mouth moves, and he whispers in a voice low enough that only Non-Human can make out:

'Remember ... remember what you promised me.'

Non-Human and Human sit on the peak of the hill, leaning against each other. They make a promise here, before they leave for their mission. Human turns to Non-Human and speaks, calmly and surely: 'If it's between me and the mission, you must choose the mission. My life isn't worth it in exchange for the thousands we're saving.'

Non-Human puts his hand on the side of Human's face. 'You can't ask me to do that-'

'It's my right. It's what I want ... promise me.'

'I-'

'Promise me. Please.'

'... I promise.'

Non-Human sees the pain they feel reflected back at them in Human's eyes. He remembers the promise. He remembers the soft-spoken words.

He looks at Human, and he hopes that this one look can say all the words that he wishes he had the time to get across properly. Human smiles at him.

Non-Human shifts his gaze to Evil Person, his voice piercing the heavy silence: 'No.'

He can't find the will to cry out as Evil Person's knife slides cleanly across Human's throat. Human instantly goes limp in his grip.

Non-Human does not scream. He does not cry. He does not feel sadness, or grief. He does not even feel angry. He feels nothing. Human was everything, and now Human is gone.

Evil Person's eyes widen as they are suddenly able to hear the quiet thrum of the magic in Non-Human's mind, accompanied by words spoken in a cold voice, the voice of a killer, of an assassin, of someone who has lost everything and blames the world.

'You will pay ...

'This world will pay.'

When Non-Human's eyes rise from Human's body, they glow with a fierce golden light.

#non human having funeral blues by w h auden energy but they channel that into the kind of calm anger that leads to burning the entire world #ufhdbdrnffnfnf i just love the idea of this dynamic so much #it's so cliché i knowwwwwww #but i just. god it's so dnfnfncnfndmd #i only started thinking about it because i'm rereading skulduggery pleasant #(i was obsessed with it as a 10 year old) #and obviously skulduggery and valkyrie are platonic besties #but the way skulduggery would murder the entire world for valkyrie #it just. it Got Me Thinking #anyways idk what to tag this uhh #au #yeah no that's all i can think of #i doubt people are reading this far though #if you have gotten this far. please send me asks about this i need to yell about it more #if you are reading this. you're a real one my friend. good evening (tips hat)

[ndnp-art-ct3]

Heaven and Hell

So, in the Area 990 universe, I don't really have it follow any pre-existing religion (that I know of)

I have something sort of like a heaven and a hell, but it's all very different to how many people believe it is.

(CW for death and after-death talk under the cut.)

There isn't really a "Heaven." When a living being dies, they go onto Mort's death train and go from that plane of existence to the next one, called the Afterplane. I don't have this place as fleshed out as I should, but I have a few vague disconnected ideas for it.

When you die, you sorta get frozen in time until Mort comes to you during a collection. He takes you into his train, along with everyone else who died since the last collection instance. The process taking everyone to the Afterplane takes a few months.

Angels, or guardian angels, are people who have died, but still want to check up on someone who's alive. It has to be someone they knew personally while they were alive, so like... Famous people don't have a gajillion guardian angels on them at once. You actually can be a guardian for multiple people, but you have to have had a close relationship with all of them to do so.

There are jobs you can take. These jobs are mainly various things helping Divina manage the Afterplane. You don't have take a job, but if you do, you get special privileges as a guardian angel. Essentially, you can do various things to help out whoever you're guarding.

Of course, there's lots of other things I gotta figure out, but those are a few ideas I have at the moment.

Hell is a lot more fleshed out, which like... Yeah, I have a shit ton of demon characters.

It's not where bad people get sent to be tortured, in fact nobody goes there after they die. Hell, it isn't a bad place at all. It's really just a place where demons come from.

Demons aren't inherently evil either. Some are bad, but they're really just people. People with lives, people who have businesses, people who both exit and enter Hell into the surface dimension, people you can be good friends with, who would stand by your side through thick and thin. You just gotta know 'em.

Demons come in all different sorts of shapes, sizes, colors, etc.

All demons are immortal. Well, they can pass if their body gets damaged enough. But when that happens, their consciousness sticks around and descends back into hell, where they become reconstructed. This usually takes a long time, so demons typically try not to die.

All demons have something called a Hellscape. This is essentially an area they can go to. All Hellscapes are stored in an infinite plane, so they can't run out of space. All demons basically have free housing just by being a demon.

Many demons have magic powers that they can use. It's not universal. Some demons are extremely powerful to the point of being reality benders (like Zlaxubuth the Powerful), while others have no magic demon powers at all (like Crimson Satcher). Most demons are in the middle, and they're usually specialized abilities, such as converting currency. (Many business-running demons have this.)

All demons can possess people. By phasing themselves into another person, they can do a demonic possession. Demons can possess other demons, but more powerful demons can stop less powerful demons from possessing them.

And uh... That's all I can think of for now.

#lore dump

[servingliesarchived]

i’ve recently realized that the way i view merlin in my head as he is normally is exactly the same vibe as ww.dits has. he’d fit right into that madness because having written and grown him for like seven and a half years now, he’s become a whole meme armada.

#𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 ; nerd central. #he is gonna walk in 15 min late with starbucks and sunglasses and a flowy shirt maybe what of it #can't die extremely powerful? magic is all around? other immortals? #absolute tomfoolery? #i mean seriously amazing #anyway. i've been at the office for an hour and no one's here yet STILL lmao #i'm waiting for ppl to get here so i feel motivated to work #hence why i'm here #i haven't written a lot but he's always being developed off screen anyway so

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 9

(Y/n)'s POV

It doesn't take me long to pack. I decide to leave the Minotaur horn in the cabin, which leaves me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me.

The camp store loans me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. The coins are as big as Girl Scout cookies and have images of various Greek Gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron had told us, but Olympins never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in for non-mortal transactions - whatever that might mean. He gives Annabeth, Percy, and me canteens of nectar and Ziploc bags full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It is god food, Chiron reminds us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it is lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally, Fun.

Annabeth is bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she tells me had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She is also bringing a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she gets bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I'm sure the knife is going to get us busted the first time we go through a metal detector.

Grover is wearing his fake feet and his pants to pass as a human. He wears a green rasta-style cap, because when it rains his curly hair flattened and you can just see the tips of his horns. Grover's bright orange backpack is full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket is a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knows two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto Number 12 and Hilary Duff's 'So Yesterday,' both of which sound pretty bad on reed pipes.

We wave good-bye to the other campers, take one last look at eh strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hike up the Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, the Daughter of Zeus.

Chiron is waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stands the surfer dude I'd seen when I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy is the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he's wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I can only see the extra eyes on his hands, face, and neck.

"This is Argus," Chiron tells me. "He'll drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I hear footsteps behind us.

Luke comes running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. "Hey!" he pants. "Glad I caught you."

Annabeth blushes, the way she always does when Luke is around.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke tells us. "And I thought . . . um, maybe you could use these."

He hands Percy a pair of sneakers, which look pretty normal.

Then, Luke says, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels. The shoes flap around on the ground until the wings fold up and disappear.

"Awesome!" Grover exclaims.

Luke smiles. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turns sad.

Annabeth stomps down the other side of the hill, after arguing with Percy, where a white SUV waits on the shoulder of the road. Argus follows, jingling his car kees.

Percy picks up the flying shoes and then looks up at Chiron. "I won't be able to use these, will I?"

Chiron shakes his head. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air...that would not be wise for you."

I nod, getting an idea, "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"

His eyes light up. "Me?"

Pretty soon, we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy is ready for launch.

"Maia!" Grover shouts. He gets off the ground, okay, but then falls over sideways so his backpack drags through the grass. The winged shoes keep bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron calls after him. "You just need practice."

"Aaaaa!" Grover goes flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawnmower, heading towards the can.

But before I can follow, Chiron catches my arm. "I should have trained you two better, Percy, (Y/n)," he says. "If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason - they all got more training."

"That's okay. I just -" I stop myself.

"What am I thinking?" Chiron cries. "I can't let the two of you get away without these." He pulls two pens out of his coat pocket and hands one to me and one to Percy.

Looking down at it, I see a teal-colored gel pen. Maybe cost thirty cents.

"Gee," Percy says. "Thanks."

"Percy, those are gifts from your father. I've been keeping them for years, not knowing you two were the ones I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You two are the ones."

Instinctively I take off the cap, and the pen grows longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I am holding a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a teal and silver leather-wrapped grip. This is the first weapon that feels balanced in my hand.

"That sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron tells Percy. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"Riptide," Percy translates.

"I have never seen anyone use that sword that I'm aware of," Chiron says, turning to me. "Yours is named Τυφώνας."

"Hurricane," I translate, surprised that the Ancient Greek came so easily to me.

"Use them only for emergencies," Chiron says, "and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but neither sword would hurt them in any case."

I look down at the wickedly sharp blade. "What do you mean it wouldn't harm mortals? How could it not?"

"Those swords are celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It's deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don't kill you first. But the blades will pass through morals like an illusion. They simply are not important for the blade to kill. And I should warn you two: as demigods, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable."

"Good to know," Percy says.

"Now recap the pens," Chiron says.

Percy and I touch the pen cap to the sword tips and instantly Riptide and Hurricane shrink to ballpoint pens again. I tuck it in my pocket, a little nervous because it's pretty easy to lose a pen.

"You can't," Chiron says.

"Can't what?" I ask, slightly confused.

"Lose the pens," he says. "They're enchanted. They'll always reappear in your pockets. Try it."

Warily, I throw the pen as far as I can down the hill and watch it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron tells us. "Now check your pocket."

Sure enough, the pen is there.

"Okay, that is extremely cool," I admit.

"But what if a mortal sees one of us pulling out a sword?" Percy asks.

Chiron smiles. "Mist is a powerful thing, Percy."

"Mist?" I ask.

"Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whatever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go fit things into their version of reality.

I put Hurricane back into my pocket.

For the first time, the quest feels real. I'm leaving Half-Blood Hill. I'm heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone - Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be no worse than sending up a flare. I have no weapon stronger than a sword to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead.

"Chiron . . ." Percy says. "When you say the gods are immortal . . . I mean, there was a time before them, right?"

"Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age."

"So what was it like...before the gods?"

Chiron purses his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually, the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born."

"But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So...even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" I ask, feeling rather uncertain.

Chiron gives me a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, (Y/n). The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny."

"Our destiny...assuming we know what that is," I say grimly.

"Relax," Chiron tells me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, the two of you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."

"Relax," I say. "I'm very relaxed."

When Percy and I get to the bottom of the hill, I look back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron is now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur."

Argus drives us out of the countryside and into western Long Island, It feels weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Grover sitting next to me, Percy on the other side of Grover, as if we were normal carpoolers. After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seems like a fantasy. I find myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parent's car, every billboard and shopping mall.

"So far so good," Percy tells Annabeth. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

She gives Percy an irritated loo. "It's bad luck to talk that way."

"Remind me again - why do you hate us so much?" Percy asks.

"I don't hate you two."

"Could've fooled me."

Annabeth folds her cap of invisibility. "Look...we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"Why?" Percy asks.

Annabeth sighs. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."

"They must really like olives," Percy comments, and I stifle a snort of laughter.

"Oh, forget it," Annabeth grumbles.

"Now, if she invented pizza - that I could understand," I add, in a slightly teasing tone.

"I said, forget it!" Annabeth says, hitting me lightly on the arm.

In the front seat, Argus smiles. He doesn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winks at me.

Traffic slows down in Queens. By the time we get into Manhattan, it is sunset and starting to rain.

Argus drops us at the greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from my mom and Gabe's apartment. Taped to a mailbox is a soggy flyer with mine and Percy's picture on it: Have you seen these children?

Percy rips it down before Annabeth and Grover can notice.

Argus unloads our bags, makes sure we get our bus tickets, then drives away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulls out of the parking lot.

I think about how close I am to the apartment. On a normal day, Mom would be home from the candy store by now. Smelly Gabe is probably up there right now, playing poker, not even missing her.

Grover shoulders his backpack. He gazes down the street in the direction I am looking. "You want to know why she married him, (Y/n)?"

I stare at him. "Were you reading my mind?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Just your emotions," Grover shrugs. "You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?"

I nod.

"Your mom married Gabe for you and Percy," Grover tells me. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. This guy has this aura . . . Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him o you, and you haven't been near him in a week."

"Thanks," Percy grimaces from Grover's other side. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better."

I soften, looking down a the ground. I'll see her again, I think. She isn't gone.

You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, the Oracle whispers in my mind. You will fail to save what matters most in the end.

The rain keeps coming down.

We get restless waiting for the bus and decide to play some Hacky Sack with one of Groer's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable at it. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. Percy wasn't too bad either, but I found that I wasn't that great at it.

The game ends when I toss the apple towards Grover and it gets too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappears - core, stem, and all.

Grover blushes. He tries to apologize, but Annabeth, Percy, and I are too busy cracking up.

Finally, the bus comes.

I am relieved when we finally get on board and find seats together in the back of the bus, Me and Annabeth in one row, and Percy and Grover across from us. The four of us stow our backpacks.

I glance over at Annabeth beside me, who keeps slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh.

As the last passengers get on, Annabeth claps her hand onto my knee. "Look!"

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She is wearing a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadows her face and she is carrying a big paisley purse. When she tilts her head up, her black eyes glitter.

I see Percy slump down in his seat.

Behind her comes two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise, they look exactly like Mrs. Dodds - same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dress. Triple demon grandmothers.

They sit in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle cross their legs over the walkway, making an X. It is casual enough, but it sends a clear message: Nobody leaves.

The bus pulls out of the station, and we head through the slick streets of Manhattan.

"She didn't stay dead long," Percy says, his voice quavering a little. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," Annabeth murmurs. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpers. "Di immortales!"

"It's okay," Annabeth says, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moans.

"A back exit?" she suggests.

There isn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we are on Ninth Avenue heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," I say. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminds me. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" Percy asks.

She thinks about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof . . . ?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus goes dark except for the running lights down teh aisle. It is eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

"I need to use the rest-room."

"So do I."

"So do I."

All three demons start coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," Annabeth says. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?" he says with disbelief.

"You're the one they want. You killed one of them. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But you guys -"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth says as she glances over at me. "You're a son of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"I can't just leave you," Percy says, looking desperately at me.

"Go," I say, frowning and Annabeth hands him the cap.

The old ladies are not old ladies anymore. Their faces are still the same - I guessed they couldn't get any uglier - but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws; their handbags had turned into fiery whips.

The Furies surround me, Grover, and Annabeth, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The other people on the bus are screaming, cowering in their seats. They see something, all right.

"He's not here!" Annabeth yells. "He's gone!"

The Furies raise their whips.

Annabeth draws her bronze knife. Grover grabs a tin can from his snack bag and prepares to throw it.

Word Count: 3222 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

[mrfandomgage]

Ralsei: Do you have any stories?

Me: yeah, a few. As my name may apply, most are to things I enjoy

Ralsei: Oh? Can y-

Susie: Hey, we're back!

Lancer: I'm here too!

Me: Do you wish to hear a story?

Susie: A story? Can it at least have blood?

Kris: Susie, not everything needs blood. What does your story have?

Me: Death, violence, blood

Kris: ...

Susie: Yeah!

Ralsei: uh, how bad is it?

Me: I probably can't describe it as well as normal, but it's of my favorite creation. I'll tell the origins, the original story, and revisions.

Lancer: ...

Me: yes Lancer?

Lancer: Can I have some popcorn?

Me: yes

*One popcorn break later*

Me: thanks for the microwave Jevil. Is everyone ready for the story?

All, plus Jevil: Yeah!

Me: The origin of Night Terror. Originally, she was only meant to be a Roleplay character. A character to be nothing but a puppet, for evil actions and tom foolery. However, she needed a backstory, and concept. I took from dreams and nightmares, and my little understanding of Freddy Krueger as a "Dream Demon" to kill in people's sleep.

Me: Her original story was bad. "Oh whoah is me. I've been killed to an uncountable number, and now I'm a being of pure vengeance that killed everyone in the world". So instead of dropping this character like others, I gave the ideas flesh and bone. Instead of being uncountable, it's uncounted and exaggerated. Instead of nonsense violence, I gave the violence flesh, abuse, to a point that'd break bones for one off action. Instead of being the sole reason her world died, it died around her as she got used to killing. I left the blood on her slit throat to let others know, she's already dead.

Susie: that sounds cool and all, but are you going to tell a story?

Kris, Whispering: Susie! Rude!

Me: No, I find that fair. Now one last stage to let you know her life being alive. Her true name is Frisk. She was a girl who was very, tired, in her world. I designed it to beat her down, just so she'd be willing to kill anything. Of course, it was hard for her, she was naturally a pacifist. She is a dream, a soul of positive energy. In a world of nightmares, they hated the energy she put off. Her own parents murdered her as a baby, but all they knew is that she put off less energy, when she woke up. So they devised to keep her energy low. They'd give her old hard as coal beds to keep her restless, if she was happy with a day, they'd shout at her for any tiny mistake or fault even when it wasn't hers. Those parents hated her favorite things, like vibrant yellows, and gave her only greys and traditional purples for special occasions, not that they wouldn't make those purple items irritable. Best of all for the parents, all they knew was that if they had really wanted to beat down their little girl til she bled on the carpet, not fully knowing they already have, she would be in misery for weeks. They never gave her bruises, she never had evidence when waking up again. She was bullied at school for sleeping at her desk, and when it got physical, it was something her parents could taunt her for. She had a friend, but he'd demean everything she said of herself. She tried to hang herself once, but when she woke up, all she could do was cry. One day, one the rare occasion she was forced to be out on the schoolyard, kids were talking of a legend. The kids taunted Frisk, stating what she believed herself. "Nobody wants you, you should climb into Mount Ebott, so you'll never return". That day, she confided in her friend, of her "nightmares" and the thought of Mount Ebott may ending her for good. Her friend tried to sew doubt into her mind of this plan, in the end, only making her cry, and giving her more reason to see to it that she could die. In the dead of night, she only took a flashlight and her purple clothes up with her to that mountain. She entered a cave and found a deep hole. She stepped to it, stood with her back facing the drop, and plunged herself into the underground. It took her a while, but she woke up. She woke up. She woke up. She was upset, but her friend was right. She met a giggling flower. "Ah, another human. You seem different, but does that matter? Have fun in your grave!" Frisk smiled at the thought of dying. She walked the tunnels and carved out cave to find a floor of spikes. She tried to drop herself onto them, only for them to retract from underneath her. While getting up, she notice that only sets of retracting spikes are sharp, while the ones that were out were as dull as rocks. She marched on, growing tired, and falling asleep in the halls. When she woke, she was in an old used bed, it was remarkable compared to home. Getting out of bed, she left the room, and tried to leave the house. Approaching the downstairs door, she caught flame. Her nerves screamed from end to end in torent pain, her lungs prayed for oxygen only taking in the smoke and ash of her own body, blood and flesh. She tried and tried and burned to ash, she finally found the monster burning her flesh, admitted she wished to leave. Learning that the monster didn't want her to leave. The monster ran to the exit with Frisk hot on their tail. Screaming and crying, the monster attacked her, I shouldn't have to say, but she had died multiple times. She became exhausted, and moved without thought, with her only thoughts to be to improve her movements, before falling to the cold. The snow was biting her senses, even though she just got some sleep, she was exhausted. As if she was walking for days. A loud snap reminded Frisk of her bones. She dropped to her knees in the freezing snow, and drops thinking something broken. In the first time in a while, the girl had a real friend. The friend talked to her, he convinced her that she was ok, and knew a place where she could rest... sorry, my throats getting dry

Susie: Awww... It was just a little interesting

Kris: could be better if you extended it

Me: I literally don't have enough text space or patience to do that yet. Trust me, I've wanted to make this story whole for a while.

Lancer: Can she at least be a little more happy? I mean, she is a dream and-

Me: no, she's constantly weakened by negative influences, mainly her own thoughts after what her parents did to her. Her only friendly relationship with other humans is still one that undermines her own thoughts and feelings. Her only dream, her only hope, is to not be useless.

Ralsei: it's good... but I have a question. Why was she born a dream?

Me: Dreams and Nightmares used to share a universe, and even though they started to hate eachother doesn't mean they didn't mix. After a rift of magic, the worlds split, and Dreams became a recessive trait to Nightmares and vice versa. It became extremely unlikely, but there's still a chance in one in a billion.

Kris: Why are monsters separated from humans?

Me: the amount of magical power to create that rift was only created by the power of monsters. Humans feared if war were to break, they too could be thrown into oblivion. Seven mages forfeited their souls to bind monsters and whoever entered. Monsters realized that they couldn't break the spell, due to the power of the seven souls, even with their collective power... can I please stop talking?

Jevil: How does she come back after dying?

Susie: When does she murder people?

Me: After blending her soul, Susie. She comes back because dreams were extremely persistent, practically a bunch of immortals. Nightmares knew this when they shared a universe, but as I said, they had a few generations and forgot. The only thing that can truly kill a dream is when they have no dream for themselves.

#undertale #ralsei deltarune #lancer deltarune #lancer #ralsei #deltarune jevil #jevil #susie deltarune #susie #kris #kris deltarune #night terror