#this sounds an awful lot like Styx

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 7 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7, PART 7 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

There are only 16 new chapters total in this update; with this, we are up to chapter 116 in book 7.

You should check out this livestream if you want a more part-by-part summarized translation of what's going on and/or if you want to hear the voices and watch the characters along with the commentary!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

As expected, we start off where we left off last update; Yuu, Grim, Silver, and Sebek have met up with the Shroud brothers. (Lilia is not with them.) According to Idia, they are still in a dream realm since Sebek is still in armor which he cannot bring back into reality. Ortho is present via a projection of some sort.

It's weird seeing Idia, Sebek, and Silver introducing themselves to one another in the main story and acting as though they've NEVER met before; they were all featured in Glorious Masquerade and interacted quite frequently. I'm aware that the main story and events don't share the same timeline, but it's still quite the jarring knowledge gap to witness.

ADFIHBADIYFBIOAFBEWQVUQOCAB SILVER AND SEBEK SUDDENLY CLOSE IN ON IDIA TO PROTECT HIM FROM SOMETHING THEY SENSE, HE CAN'T BREATHE... Waaaah, Idia... You're a princess squished between two pretty boy knights wwww

Idia and Ortho tell us that Malleus is expending a lot of energy to monitor Lilia in particular...? Ortho then goes on to explain that his "individuality" has become useful. Even though he cannot have a UM (okay, so confirmed that Ace is the last one to gain it shjdbahsdbasda), he is the only one capable of transferring his consciousness from one body to another. This is how he was able to reach out to Idia and the others!

Ortho tells them about his Cerberus Gear. We get a flashback of what he was up after getting suited up; he's flying over Sage's Island to collect information on Malleus's UM for STYX.

Thorns pierce through the clouds and Ortho battles them! STYX sends reinforcements (not personnel, but like technology/cannons?) to help Ortho. The thorns form a short of shield over Sage's Island, so he breaks through via a weak point. asdbhbaisdbals It's so unsettling to see the port looking so dark and depressing...

Ortho's mom reminds him he can only stay in there safely for 20 minutes. Aw, she cares so much about Or-kun 😭

It's going to take over several minutes (I think 17) just to analyze the complex nature of Malleus's magic and save it. While the analysis anchor does its job, Ortho has to protect it!

OH SHIT IT'S OB MALLEUS

ebfyvoFoaHhahaahahaHHhahaahah ORTHOS STARTS TALKING ABOUT A BUNCH OF TECH STUFF LIKE WIRELESS TO EXPLAIN TO MALLEUS HOW HE CHANGED BODIES, Malleus surprisingly understands???? I half expected him to combust on the spot from confusion... DBHLBSYOFOFYAAFIAFIL MALLEUS IS BEING DUNKED ON BY A CHILD, Ortho says that since magic is powered by imagination, Malleus cannot block Ortho's advances or force his new body under sleep since Malleus does not understand tech.

I can't believe him being shit with tech is actually relevant to the plot 💀

AEFHLBFBYFOVYFEQRUROQ OB MALLEUS PROCEEDS TO RESPOND WITH VIOLENCE, HE'S GOING TO DESTROY THE ANALYTICAL ANCHOR SO ORTHO DECIDES TO FIGHT BACK

RIP Or-kun, he could only resist for so long... his attacks have no effect in this domain where Malleus has complete control.

JUST 30 SECONDS BEFORE THE ANALYSIS ENDS, QUICK ORTHO STALL HIM BY SHIT TALKING MORE!!! I KNOW CHILDREN CAN BE SAVAGE, SO UNLEASH YOUR WRATH

HFBFYOAEOFYEEIAFL MALLEUS.?>??? ?? ? ?? ???? HE IMPLIED HE'S GOING TO KILL OFF ORTHO AND THEN GOES OFF (?) ON ONE OF HIS DOGGIE DRONES...

"Good night, little Shroud." You have to hear it for yourself, it sounds very ominous 💀 He really said he ain't above child murder, eh?

??? For a second Malleus froze and his shot missed? So Ortho decides on a strategic retreat with the second dog drone. NO MALLEUS ENDED 02 TOO, IT TOOK A BLOW FOR ORTHO WHILE HE RETRIEVES THE ANCHOR

We cut back to STYX, which is dedicating its resources to creating an opening in Malleus's barrier for Ortho to escape. He clears the barrier!!

Aaaaaaah, another cute moment for Shroud Mama! She and Shroud Papa collapse onto the floor in relief. He has sustained some damage, but his core is intact!

One line I really like from Malleus is him referring to Ortho and others as "uninvited guests" that he's going to chase off no matter what.

NOOOOO THEY CONFIRMED BOTH DOGGIE DRONES GOT MCMURDERED IN THERE OTL Never forgiving Malleus for this, fr (Shroud Mama says she can fix them though so we're all good!)

They tell Ortho "welcome back" and Ortho says "I'm back" 😭 AND THEY GROUP HUG

RUH-ROH

Shroud Papa says that Malleus's UM... reminds him of Grim's magic... WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN

STYX has support from Briar Valley, which should help with their analysis. However, the results so far are not looking good. According to Shroud Papa, the barrier is 99% impossible to destroy unless either Malleus dies OR Malleus chooses to lower the barrier himself.

It's not plausible for Mama to make enough Cerberus Gears for a whole army. Besides, if they they destroy the barrier, Shroud Mama theorizes that they may also accidentally destroy the consciousnesses of everyone on Sage's Island... so that's definitely not an option!

FJLDADBIAFSVYOFFEQFA ORTHOS UGGESTED TELLING MALLEUS "Your grandma is so sad" FROM OUTSIDE THE BARRIER TO CONVINCE HIM TO LOWER THE SHIELD........ . . . ....... . . .. .... .. . . . . .. . . ... . . LIKE IN THE OLD MOVIES

They're now looking into Idia's dream on a monitor? Ortho notices Idia's dorm room does not have Ortho's mainenance dock, so... um, he realizes that Idia must be dreaming about an alternate world where his little brother never passed.

Shroud Mama is going to try and "hack" into the dream spaces. AJAFSVOSvfvfefea SHE HAS A CUTE LITTLE GREMLIN GIGGLE??? She's very fired up because Malleus insulted mankind's best technology, saying it cannot stand up to his magic. (aslbhflasbifabfd THIS IS WHERE IDIA GETS IT FROM????????)

"It's rare to see Idia so happy." LDBHbiadib THIS BOY IS MAD DEPRESSED, LET HIM BE

"Isn't it time that everyone got tired of the dream world and want to return to reality?" No, Shroud Mama. I guarantee you that most TWST fans WANT to stay in Twisted Wonderland and don't want new content to stop coming out, this is our escapism :)

WAAAAAH ORTHO HE'S REPEATING THE LINE VIL TOLD HIM, THEY HAVE TO TRY BECAUSE NOT TRYING IS ALWAYS 0% BUT 0.001% HAS THE POSSIBILITY TO BECOME 100%

Shroud Papa warns Ortho that Idia may reject reality, and therefore "this" Ortho. He's concerned that this will put Ortho through a lot of emotional stress. Shroud Papa wants professionals (psychologists) to try and contact Idia instead of Ortho.

ADFILBAFIYAEGIYQEFBIAF ORTHO HAS SO MUCH FAITH IN HIS OLDER BROTHER, he says Idia would get hype about a cute robot boy trying to get in contact with him, this means he'll become a protagonist like in his light novels!

DNBHdsvyofwFTOwqihbyow8fS WE'RE GOING TO IDIA'S DREAM NOW, he pulled like 3 SSRs of his favorite character (of course he'd dream this, OF COURSE).

Video chat notif from Ortho???

OMG IT'S ROBOT ORTHO AND IDIA FREAKS OUT THINKING IT'S COSPLAY

Ortho reintroduces himself. "It's nice to meet you for the first time in 'this' world!" Idia starts to laugh and assumes it's Ortho's avatar for virtual chat, that kind of thing. Or maybe Ortho is talking about the plot of a new anime?

ILBFIBYADBFADBEFQFIPo; IDIA REPEATS THE EXACT LINES ORTHO SAID HE WOULD SAY, THAT HE'S THE CHOSEN ONE BEING CONTACTED BY A CUTE ROBOT BOY

Here's the breakdown... Idia gets a headache and finally realizes the truth. afhbBIfieeq;ofBHQEF;????? ?the DREMA ORTHO IS CALLING HIMAND TEELLING HIM THE REAL ORTHO IS A FAKE, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM (this is THE definition of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss).

DREAM!ORTHO TRIES TO PULL IDIA DEEPER INTO THE DREAM, TELLING HIM HE'S JUST SLEEPY FROM GAMING TOO MUCH SO GO BACK TO SLEEP

Oooh, interesting that RSA!Ortho still appears to be similar in body type to Robo!Ortho? I always assumed Ortho was small because Idia kept him "preserved" in the moment of death. Maybe the dream Ortho is just modelled after Robo!Ortho since that's what Idia's memories are familiar with.

Idia loops back around again to the start of his dream, where he is in ceremonial robes and Malleus approaches him. HERE COMES MALLEUS TO GASLIGHT HIS CLASSMATES AGAIN

adhfgyoafdodp THERE'S A LIGHT FROM THE SKY???? TSUMTSUMS???????? GOD?????? AND ANIME ON IDIA'S SIDE?????? OMG, here comes Ortho in his Cerberus Gear come to save the day! Idia recognizes STYX's emblem.

UH-OH, MALLEUSIS PISSED THAT ORTHO SURPRISED HIM TWICE"Stand down, you fools." MALEFICENT ENERGY IS OFF THE CHARTS

Idia recognizes Malleus as being in Overblot adhbafliafa AND THE SKY STARTS CRACKING because Ortho is not meant to exist in this dream. He basically goes against the canon www

Malleus teleports away (yeah, FUCK IDIA I guess) and leaves them to be swallowed by the abyss. Idia's being pulled into the darkness, and their mom's voice comes in warning Ortho to stay away before more damage occurs. Idia recognizes his mom's voice and remembers even more!!

Aw, Ortho promises to save his brother...

Idia is at the gates to the Underworld again? Phantom Ortho says Idia fell there and speaks to him kind of in a friendly manner. "It's too early for a reunion."

asfkjlnsUPBUADGPAGB IDIA IS SO CONFUSED, HE'S WONDERING WHY A PHANTOM IS CALLING HIM BIG BRO, HE STILL BELIEVES THAT HIS BROTHER GOES TO RSA AND THAT THIS IS A NIGHTMARE Idia is sooooo in denial...

Phantom Ortho reassures Idia that his death is not his fault, so please stop blaming himself... that Idia promised he would live without looking back, so he should look at the truth.

WHOOOOO HE REMEMBERS BOOK 6 FELLAS

AYO WE GOT IDIA CRYING AND IT'S ANIMATED, WE SEE THE TEARS ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEKS, WE WINNIN'

"I'm always being saved by my little brothers (YES PLURAL, WEH), I'm such a pathetic big brother."

Ah, so now Phantom Ortho calls himself "King of the Underworld" says Idia cannot leave since it's not a good example for the rest of the phantoms. It's going to be the boss!

OOOOOH IDIA'S HAIR GOES FULL DIFFERENT COLOR + new facial expression (we previously only saw the hair change color in his Dorm Uniform Groovy and his Suitor Suit Groovy).

IDIA CALLS HIS FAMILY CURSE A BLESSING, he gets more power in areas with lots of blot since there is more fuel for him to burn. HASDIYASODBASID IDIA OBS TO FIGHT PHANTOM ORTHO??????? IS THIS A PREVIEW FOR OVERBLOT CARDS OR SOMETHING

They have the same battle lines about how they will be "free"...

IDIA'S CRINGE ERA RETURNSSSSSSSS (he's making those cringe sound effects of blowing things up) and claims the title of "King of the Underworld" (the same title given to players who own 10 cards of a particular character).

afhbabilfbialfi IDIA LAUGHS SO HARD HE CHOKES

He finally uses his UM to open the gates and escape, telling Phantom!Ortho he cannot stay there. PHANTOM!ORTHO LOVINGLY WISHES HIS BROTHER SAFE TRAVELS, AW "The whole universe is waiting for you."

Idia tries to wake up and hears Dream!Ortho's voice??? BUT IDIA IS FULLY AWAKE NOW, HE KNOWS IT'S SUCH A DREAM He has finally accepted Ortho's death AND calls both the robot brother and the dead brother as his "brotherS"

Idia points out all the discrepancies in the dream... adfbilasdibalbiaflb I LOVE HOW EVERYONE KEEPS CALLING RSA A "SHINY" SCHOOL, Idia's all like, "No WAY is my little brother going to a school like that!"

THE DREAM ORTHO PANICS AND BEGS IDIA TO LISTEN TO HIM BADSBILADIAIDVFADIL IDIA TELLS THE DREAM ORTHO "Sorry, I don't like anyone other than anime/game characters calling me onii-chan!" IBRO, YOU'RE OUTTING YOURSELF LIEK THIS????????? ? ????? ????

He plots revenge on the person that would dare show him this disgusting dream, he's ready to FILE A COMPLAINT to them! (Watch out, Draconia, this otaku is coming for YOUR ASS) sayusdbyosfvayf What's with Malleus pissing off big bros with dead little bros...

Idia finally reunites in his dream with Robo!Ortho and apologizes for the hurtful things he said... Ortho talks about the adventures he has been on + explains what has been going on. Basically, they reconcile without a problem!

After all the summary, Idia first comments on how shocked he is that their mom hacked into his computer 🤡 Yeah, Idia... she saw everything... Ortho tells him it's okay, she didn't comment! BUT THAT MAKES IDIA EVEN MORE UPSET, "it's the worst thing for a male high school student!" It just might make him Overblot a THIRD time www

I can't believe THIS of all things is what makes Idia seek revenge on Malleus... (HE SAYS HE WANTS MALLEUS TO CRY AND BEG FOR FORGIVENESS)

Idia is really out here about to doxx Malleus huh 💀

I honestly was not expecting to cry this update (since I was thinking it would just be a flashback about how Ortho "woke up" Idia) but NOPE, I just guess every update now is going to elicit tears... I've always been highly invested in the Shroud brothers' storyline, so I'm really happy they touched on it again here and enhanced it by giving us more Shroud Mama and Papa, as well as Phantom!Ortho. It was sweet to see Idia recognize Phantom!Ortho as his brother too instead of completely renouncing him or "replacing" him with Robo!Ortho. ihbdiladqeofqbeafnasi The updates are making me like Idia more, but in the same way you'd like a character for being pathetic... Man made SO many dog chew toy nosies this time 😭

I did not expect Malleus to be so... pro-child murder/j He will stop at nothing to keep everyone under his thumb, and that's so awful. There was so much gaslighting in this part as well, even if Malleus is not directly doing it himself. The fact that his magic can just... do that on its own is... It sort of gives me the vibes of trying to enforce a toxic kind of positivity on everyone, which in of itself has its roots in his own insecurities and inability to cope with loss. He's projecting that onto everyone else, and that has very scary results as we see here.

There were a lot of memes pre-book 7 about how Malleus's inability to understand technology would come to bite him in the ass later, and all of those fans can now feel vindicated because WELL, IT CAME TRUE.

And last, but not least, I'm shocked at Idia's reason for wanting to fistfight Malleus 🤡 BRO'S MAD FR FR... WHAT MUST HIS MOM HAVE SEEN ON HIS COMPUTER TO MAKE HIM SO AGGRO... WAS IT LEWDS OR SOMETHING???????? ?? ? ??? ?????? ?? Glad that Idia is on our side now, this is an excellent place to leave off on for next time!!

#twisted wonderland #twst #Malleus Draconia #Idia Shroud #Diasomnia #Ortho Shroud #Yuu #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #Ignihyde #Maleficia Draconia #Maleficent #Grim #book 7 part 7 spoilers

[heya-but-better]

Dabihawks prompt

———————

The afterlife isn’t simply a blank white void that one people hoped it would be, no.

When you die, there’s a hand with black sin-tinted nails that reaches out to you. You only get to see the ghoulish purple scars that wrap like leather around it’s wrist, the metal glint of golden metal keeping healthy flesh and marred skin together.

The limb is almost floating, dismembered form the rest of it’s vessel, but it doesn’t take long to notice it comes from a shimmering split in reality.

The portal to the afterlife.

It waits patiently, palm up, until you take it. It pulls you through, and suddenly the ground under wobbles.

You’re on a boat, stumbling and falling into a chest shrouded in thin black cloth.

You look up to meet bursting blue eyes shadowed by black bangs.

The reaper tells you to sit down.

You learn his name is Dabi, though the little chit chat you manage with him on the boat. He stands and moves the paddle through the silver-black liquid of the river of Styx. Ghastly moans and wails echo across the fog around you.

Sometimes you see things in the water, things your mind can’t quite comprehend. You sail on the unfathomable infinity until Dabi steps forward on the boat and snaps his fingers. The sound is sharp, your dead gaze snaps in the direction.

Blue hellfire sprouts from his fingers, lighting a lantern. He raises it and you notice that for the first time, the scarred and dark flesh of his face, stabled together with the only color other than blue, is twisted into a grin.

You’re almost tempted to ask what’s going on, but you don’t. He splits the water with the oar until the boat bumps against wood. The fog clears enough as he swings the lantern around like the sloshing of the water around you to see an old wood dock.

“Up.” He commands, being the first to step up, clearing the gap and bringing the boat close enough so he can tie it to a post.

Numbly you follow, stepping up, taking the offered hand as support for the second time.

You and your company lapse into silence, walking, walking. You peek up at him, his eyes are trained forward, sparkling with something you can only explain as eager. He’s been struggling to keep his expression neutral ever since he picked up the lantern.

And soon, you realize why.

The fog clears almost all at once. Suddenly the dreary greys are replaced by beautiful marbles cream and gold. There’s a gate up ahead, red roses curing around the golden metal bars of it, the vines are as black as the death around you.

Dabi leads you quicker, strides spreading to approach the gate as fast as normal walking could get him. You look to his face again, it’s stoic again, but his eyes are still excited. It’s obvious he’s hiding this passion though.

And soon, the second you and the reaper step onto a white cobbled path, a blur of red falls from the sky.

It catches your breath in your throat, you step closer to Dabi in panic, eyes flickering nervously to gauge his reaction, but his mouth is barely quirked into a smile. It struggles against the urge to get bigger. His eyes shine with an awe you’ve never seen on a mortal human.

Blue is trained on the red as it spans out and blows dust and wind around, landing elegantly in front of you and the reaper.

You look forward, seeing the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen through the red feathers.

An angel with bloody wings straightens, smile relaxed and cheerful.

You ease, the friendly face… trained on Dabi.

It takes you a moment, again, a lot of things have suddenly changed. Noticing small details has been difficult ever since you’ve been overwhelmed with the fact you’ve died.

The angel and the reaper stare at each other with reflected adoration.

Dabi says nothing, but he bows his head to break the unspoken and unseen spell between them. It makes the angel break out into a laugh, one soft and loving. He understands the message though, because that warm golden gaze is swiveled to you.

“Welcome to the afterlife, little bird.” The angel waves his wing once and suddenly a golden staff is in his hand, he turns and starts walking towards the gate.

You glance to Dabi, he motions you forward mutely.

You go, nothing else to do but listen.

“My name is Keigo! It’s lovely to have you in my care.”

Your shoulders relax at his cheery tone, you trace the marks on his face with your eyes as he opens the gate with two taps of the staff, swinging it open for you to go inside.

“Follow the path, don’t stray from it, alright little bird?”

You manage to nod, not knowing what else to do in response to a voice so soft it sounded like honey.

Slowly, you step across the boarder, but you can’t help but look back as the gate closes behind you.

Those golden eyes aren’t on you anymore, they look back to the ferryman, Dabi.

Keigo grins softly, Dabi smiles back, he lowers his lantern and takes one step forward. For every stride, Keigo matches him until they stand in front of each other.

As that ghoulish hand that first welcomed you into the afterlife caresses the honey angel’s cheek, you realize this was never your story.

You watch the angel lean forward, heels raising so he stood on the tip of his toes, kissing behind the curtain of black bangs.

This was never your story. It could have been you or any other lost soul that had been guided by the reaper to have seen this.

The narrator didn’t matter, but the story remained the same.

The reaper of death and the guardian Angel of the gate were in love, and you just so happened to see a glimpse of it.

———————-

//bonus

———————-

Keigo felt the brush of a food against his territory, flying down from his perch to investigate.

The sight of a man dawning black robes and purple scars wet his eye, the gate keeper had to resist fluttering his wings in his free fall in favor of catching himself, snapping his wings open to glide and gently land in front of the ferryman.

Dabi—or Touya, only Keigo knew him by that name—lowered his lantern and met the angel’s eyes. Blue worshipped gold with a simple gaze and Keigo couldn’t resist the flutter of his feathers.

Keigo pried his eyes away from the man as to not fall into the temptation of kissing him, turning his attention to the passenger.

…or at least he tried.

“Dabi?” Keigo tilted his head, gold eyes glancing around the space. “Where’s the soul?”

A gentle hand reached out, pale knuckle guiding the guard’s chin to tilt upward.

“There is none.”

Touya’s voice was low, but soft. It reminded Keigo of the rumbling purr of a cat.

His wing twisted in confusion, he tried not to melt into the ghostly cold touch of the man he wanted so desperately to love. He new the feeling was mutual, but work made it impossible to fall into love.

So he ignored it, focusing on work.

“What?”

“There is none.” The ferryman repeated himself, taking a step forward, hand smoothing over the porcelain skin of Keigo’s neck. “I just wanted to see you.”

“…Touya..” Keigo’s expression melted as the hand on his skin moved back up to his face, but this time cupping his cheek. “You *know* that—“

“—we can’t.” Touya finished in a whisper, the shine in his azure depths saddening.

The angel commission would have their heads.

It didn’t stop the small touches, the soft caresses, the whispered words.

“But, I wanted to take you onto the river.”

Keigo felt his heart clench, the soft need of Touya’s expression already sealed his fate. There was no saying no to him.

“…fine.”

The ferryman of death smiled. They were rare, and the angel always couldn’t help but stare, burning it into his memory. They were rare but he *loved* them.

“I’ve only dreamed of having your company, my dove, I won’t disappoint you.”

——————

I definitely don’t already have like all the plot and the shit already written out in my head not at all none nope

Anyway this was inspired by a little doodle I made during my Greek mythology lecture lmfao

#bnha #mha #dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #mha dabi #todoroki touya #bnha hawks #hotwings #keigo tamaki #greek mythology #dabihawks prompt #bnha fic #mha hawks #theyre so silly #I just want dabi to kiss his hand before kidnapping Keigo to a paradise away from everything #grim reaper dabi #angel hawks

[tisthenightofthewitch]

Ghost’s Tobias Forge Talks Arena Rock, Jack the Ripper, and the Band’s Next Album

The frontman also known as Papa Emeritus IV always envisioned the band sounding like a "devil-worshipping Kansas"

Ghost are the rare band that formed in the past 15 years to graduate to arena headliners. In fact, the Swedish metal act is about to embark on its latest massive tour, playing North American arenas with support from Mastodon and Spiritbox.

The outing kicks off Friday (August 26th) in San Diego, and runs through a September 23rd show in Green Bay, Wisconsin, with tickets available via Ticketmaster. The new run follows up an early 2022 US tour that saw Ghost co-headlining with Volbeat, and playing their first shows since the COVID-19 pandemic shut down the concert industry.

Heavy Consequence caught up with Ghost mastermind Tobias Forge (aka Papa Emeritus IV) to discuss the band’s return to the road, their latest album, IMPERA (released in March of this year), and whether the wheels are already in motion for the the next LP.

While the appearance of Papa Emeritus IV and his masked ghouls is quite sinister, Forge unapologetically embraces an arena rock sound on IMPERA, calling to mind ’70s and ’80s acts like Kansas, Styx, and Boston, among others. As Forge tells us, the plan from early on was to sound like “a devil-worshipping Kansas.”

The band is in full promotion cycle for the new album, but Forge reveals to us that he already has a game plan for the next one, and that it will be “very different” from IMPERA.

What was it like playing your first shows in nearly two years at the beginning of 2022 following the concert industry shutdown due to the pandemic?

It didn’t take long to feel completely natural. Like a pirate, I have sea legs. This is what I do, this is what I’ve always wanted to do, this is what I’m built for. I’m used to feeling at home being out on the road and being transient and standing onstage. … We were really scratching our heads about, ‘Is this tour really going to happen? Are we able to even go through with this? Or are we going to stop a week from now, right in the middle, and just have to cancel everything and send the trucks home…because it was so uphill. Everything was all uphill and it felt like something like you weren’t really supposed to do in a way.

One thing that really aided this feeling of doing something right was seeing all the happy faces and also being told repeatedly that some of these people haven’t been outside for two years. Some of them have not come to a restaurant, have not been to a club, they have not been out. They had stayed inside for years and now all of a sudden, they came out for one show. Or some of them didn’t. I have friends who said, “I can’t go to the show because I don’t dare. I don’t have the guts to go to the show,” and some of them just said, “I’m not vaxxed, so I can’t come to the show.” But that’s fine too… we were just seeing a lot of people every night with smiles on their faces saying that they’re happy that they got out.

It’s fitting that Ghost are playing arenas now in North America and beyond, as the new album, IMPERA, very much has an arena rock vibe. Did the size of the venues that the band is now headlining have an impact on the music on IMPERA?

It did play a part, of course. I think any artist that experiences any size upgrade, if you will, if you go from playing 300 people clubs into a theater of 2,000, you will in some way or shape, you will take that into consideration of certain sonic elements. I don’t think that it means that you go from playing grindcore to playing singer-songwriter ballads. It just means that you might clear up a few things that you know, in a big boomy room, this will sound awful. But if you do half notes instead on that one, it’s going to sound more clear. Let’s try to find a good tempo for this song.

I think that I always try to compare this to having a relationship to another person. Unless you’re already on the course where the relationship is meant to torment one or the other, or both, you have a tendency to do what the other person likes and if you do what the other person likes, she or he will return good feelings to you. So you have a tendency to feel around and see where fingers can go and where it’s appreciated ,and if it’s not appreciated in one way but another way, you tend to go the other way. That’s what you do, that’s how you know how to consummate your affection. I think that bands and a crowd do a similar thing. But of course, you have to throw in a little bit of throwing around in there as well, to make it exciting. But that’s part of being an artist is just trying to find that balance all the time. And you have to do it all the time, never take it for granted, you still have to bring home the flowers … and you’re surprised with something unexpected and that’s how you do it with a crowd until the day that you don’t have a crowd anymore

As for that arena rock sound, on songs like “Kaisarion,” “Spillways,” “Watcher in the Sky,” and “Griftwood,” there seems to be a nod to ‘70s and ’80s acts like Styx, Kansas, Journey, Boston and Foreigner. Is it fair to say those bands are influences on Ghost, especially on IMPERA?

Absolutely, and they always have been. I remember early on when we were still promoting our music on MySpace and there was this [field] that you had to fill in, “What do you sound like?” For some time it actually said, “like a devil-worshipping Kansas.” My vision of what I wanted Ghost to sound like was going to be a ‘70s metal band or a band that didn’t know that they were a metal band that had never heard ’80s metal. But they were grown up enough to tune their guitars and sing well, as opposed to a punk band or a lo-fi garage rock band. So we were very inspired by AOR [album-oriented rock], I wanted it to be a Boston, Foreigner, sort of that band, but with darker ambiance. … It’s easy to make fun of the fact that AOR musicians are always grown-up men with a lot of hair on their chests and mustaches — they’re grown. Which is not as really as appealing as … black metal, which I find more cool. But I love [AOR] music — divorce rock, adult reoriented rock.

Can you talk about the overall theme of IMPERA, and how the song “Twenties” fits in within that theme?

The record is loosely based on the machinery of the empire and its sort of self-destruction mechanisms. And why they ultimately all sort of crumble, at least in one form or another … and part of that is because of the demigods. Usually, and almost always it’s because of someone who has that sort of attitude towards their followers. [The song] “Twenties” is about a demigod speaking with utmost disgust to his own followers, but still trying to trick his followers about them having something in common and a shared goal. So it’s a very deceitful song about trickery.

The album closes with “Respite on the Spitalfields.” Can you discuss that song and the decision to end the album with that track?

Visually, I chose to represent this idea of the empire by painting a picture of the Victorian industrial empire of the late 1800s, basically. Also because it’s visually interesting, there are other elements of it that resembles what we’re experiencing now, with industrialists and making people superfluous and a very dog-eat-dog soft of world. But you also have a ton of goth in there because you have Jack the Ripper and Dracula and it’s very pleasing if you’re doing what I’m working with. It’s a time period that gives a lot. I’m very fascinated with Jack the Ripper, as many are, and one aspect of his reign of terror is that it stretched farther than the “canonical five.” I’m pretty sure that he killed more people than that.

Also, the idea of a Jack the Ripper being out there obviously stretched way longer than he was active because people knew that he was never apprehended, so they didn’t know if he was gone or not. Somewhere he is lurking amongst us, probably. And can reappear at any time, so whatever security we might feeling now in the aftermath of his doings, they were never clear, they were never given a thumbs up. It just sort of stopped or didn’t happen again so there was that, that was what I was referring to the respite on the spitalfields — that it’s not really calm, it’s just a pause. That you don’t know when it’s going to end. There’s something growing, there’s a rot growing somewhere in the house but you don’t know if it’s gone or not, like cancer that you don’t know if it metastasized inside your body. It’s an elegy about that but leaving with the hope that the cancer can be eradicated and hopefully it’ll meet its demise and then we will all feel better. Even the ones that might not like it will eventually feel better.

It seems with Ghost that you always have the next album planned out far in advance. Is it fair to say that you have already mapped out the follow-up to IMPERA?

I have an album in my head right now that I think is going to be different from the one I just made. Both Prequelle and IMPERA were ideas that I had since six, seven years back. They were so different from each other in the sense that the “plague album,” as I call it, was about the little person’s annihilation on almost more of like a carnal or a God’s wrath point of view, whereas the “imperial record” was more of a structural demise of the mechanics of society. So they felt like two different things and the idea that I have for the next record is also a different thing from that. It’s just a way for me to compartmentalize the ideas of finding new ways to inspire me lyrically and conceptually.

At the end of the day, it’s just rock ’n’ roll records, 40 minutes of rock music, so it’s just a way to make it interesting for me to work with, and then as a result of that, luckily for a few times now, we’ve been able to put that together and compile it in a way that has a lot of our fans also finding it interesting to dive into. I think that it was just luck that we just happened to release it in a matter where it seems a little clairvoyant. But these are old subjects … everything’s cyclical, that’s the thing, everything just goes in circles so it’s not very hard to be clairvoyant, you can just look back on time and sort of alter it a little, draw on, or shave off a mustache and you have a future asshole who will do something similar to something else a hundred years ago, two hundred years ago, three hundred years ago. it’s always the same, it’s very repetitive.

Heavy Consequence

#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Papa IV #Papa Emeritus IV

[sunlight-in-venice]

Prayer on a Monday night

I shout at the skies: you gave me this disease, so why won’t you just take me out once and for all? I pray to you everyday and ask for the pain to go away, but it won’t. You gave me this disease, why couldn’t you just give me something else to make it disappear? Send a bus or a virus. A knife or a gun. A mass destruction weapon or a pill that actually works. God, just send me a man who’s brave enough to smother me with his feather pillow instead of watching me waste away in bed.

Someone once told me suicidal people are not allowed in heaven. So let me go now and, when I get to the pearly gates, deny me entrance like all the others defeated before me. I beg you to do your job and cast me away, I do not deserve to become an exception. I ask for gentleness instead of forgiveness. It’s not a matter of pride, that’s definitely not my sin. I just happened to have been totally and utterly unprepared. Nobody told me it was meant to be this hard to fight a war I never enlisted to. I shall accept my fate, no complaints and no defying. Put me on that boat through the Styx and I will not oppose your decision whatsoever. Just send me downstairs and accommodate me on the rightful cage, because I’m tired of roaming around through earth with no place to go.

I’ve thought a lot about my destination so that you don’t think this isn’t a thoughtful decision. I thought a lot about hell. I believe hell is very human and probably very full. But, also, hell is right here, inside of my head. Hell sounds like the habit of drowning yourself in pills so that you can wake up in the morning or go back to sleep at night. Hell is time and its refusal to heal. But hell is, too, timeless and eternal, because it’s a cycle that never ends. Sometimes I think hell is just a joke to scare me into keeping a life that I wish I didn’t have. Maybe hell is the escape. Maybe it’s just the place where I pay for the lack of love I have for life. Maybe it’s salvation or damnation, or even both at the same time. Maybe it’s emptiness. I hope it’s emptiness, because I’m already full of all these awful things that constantly crawl from my heart to my brain.

I’m content with my judgment, I just can’t wait. The elders say that’s the problem of my generation: impatience. Some scholars call it anxiety, but I truly don’t care for names anymore. I was born with the weight of a monster on my shoulders and maybe, just maybe, death can actually do us part. It’s like this big grizzly bear made out of shadows and osmium that mounts in my back like a little kid playing with its parents. It doesn’t matter where you are, but it matters what you’re carrying inside. I carry too much of something that’s not mine. I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to be like this. I didn’t ask to be saved.

#tw sui ideation #writing #personal #spilled ink #feelings #female writers #writers on tumblr #writblr #writeblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #poetry

[persephoneflowerpetals]

Here is some headcannon that is rift from Greek Mythology. Did you know that Poseidon made the horse to impress Demeter? Although funny enough he forgot about wooing her when he was awing over his creation. Seriously, it would have been fun if the series also emphasized that Poseidon had a thing for horses. Make Poseidon a brony.

Oh yeah, the horse from the other ask right?

LOL! I mean, low key, that does kinda sound like Poseidon lmao. He was sitting there bragging to Hades about his aquatic mammals in the River Styx episode and he seems to have a lot of sea animals (most likely pets) hanging around his home, so he’s definitely an animals lover and I can totally see him doing that lol!

GEJDHDJDH YES POSEIDON IS A BRONY LMAOOOO

#ask #anon ask #poseidon #demeter #greek mythology

[provider-of-pronoun-checks]

hello!

im back (2 days later but shh lol) and i have decided what names/pronouns id like to try :]

Ran (xai/boo/he), Stream (anarchy/bat/it), Read (it/its), Reed (no pronouns), And (&/&self) and Styx (grey/dusk/cloud)

i like both variations of Read/Reed and i just thought the &/&self pronouns would be funny with the name And (i jist thought of the name And and already have &/&self in my pronoun hoard lol)

-🦇

Welcome back!

It's Ran! I had a feeling xai would like the name I gave boo, but obviously I never know for sure! I hope this doesn't sound self centered, but I love his name and boo/boos pronouns. I think I shall yoink xais boo/boos if im honest, but boos name isn't for me I don't think. Anyway hope he doesn't mind the ramble?

Ayyy it's Stream! Anarchy is so cool, like bat is ridiculously cool. I hope it knows that! I love seeing anarchy show up, and bats always lots of fun to do checks for or even just to talk to it! Anarchy always has cool pronouns, and bats choice of names? I am in awe of how good it is at that.

Yooo! It's Read! It's back! I wonder if it's gotten enough sleep recently? I know when I last talked to it it hadn't slept for a while, so I hope it managed to sleep for a bit! It should get as much sleep as it can, and I'm sorry it can't get that much.

Reed!! Reeds back!!! Reed is so cool, did you know that Reed had a cat? I don't know what Reed's cat is named, but I'm sure Reed has a super cool cat!

Eyyy it's And! I love &s name and pronouns here, & was right the combination was very funny! Good on & for thinking of it, & always has amazing jokes, and & has really cool pronouns so this is a cool way to combine some of &s quality's!

It's Styx!! I love greys name, exept I think I know where dusk got it from sometime. Cloud is really cool, and grey has really cool ideas. Here's hoping that dusk knows how cool cloud is!

Anyway, I hope Styx has a great day and that grey makes sure that dusk takes care of cloudself!

#Zee is to lazy to tag #Pronoun check #🦇 anon

[mercurypyrite]

ok so i finished book 6 last night so this is a bit belated but whatever. longass masterpost of my thoughts on everything post 6-81 incoming

i felt awful for vil (3hrs of crying, he’s gotta be dehydrated) but it was lowkey kinda funny how malleus just popped up and was like “i’m in your debt (according to lilia) (pretty sure this was just for their own amusement?? idk man they’re fae) so i’ll help 👍” and just kinda poofed him back to normal.

i think this is the… third time we’ve seen him do smth like that? first at VDC, then during endless halloween night, and finally now. (though EHN came first canonically.) he seems to be making a habit of it. and that joyful squeal? love that. (vil’s normally so poised, though — goes to show how deeply book 6, and being rudely confronted by his fear of aging, rattled him)

=

leona: i’ve been fighting all night and i’m dead on my feet

ruggie & jack: sorry what. PLEASE elaborate

=

once i saw adeuce the only thought left in my head was “MY BOYS THEYRE HERE” i’m so glad they’re okay like damn. it feels like everyone’s been gone longer than 2 days lmao

=

“Human lives are as ethereal as silk thread on a spinning wheel — and just as easily cut short. But their fragility can be a boon. Interweaving and layering those threads creates the strong, resilient tapestry of their history. Such is the creature called man — neighbor to we creatures of the night.”

so so tempted to make part of this my blog quote but it sounds so pretentious. not like the current one isn’t i guess. also sleeping beauty ref goes brrr

=

ortho (lovingly) dragging idia is one of my new favorite things i think

“You don’t have any close friends who can keep you in line yet, and I don’t know if you ever will. Not to put too fine a point on it, but leaving you to your own devices is a terrible idea. So… I want to stay with you. Is that asking too much?”

“You’ve been my real brother for a long time now, Ortho.”

“Let’s go back to Night Raven College. You’ve got people waiting for you there.”

“…Yeah, I do, huh.”

LIKE GOD. THEM. i want to stay with you. you don’t have to act like my little brother but you’ve been my real brother for a while now. you don’t have close friends but you DO have people waiting for you. they won’t forget. (and then he ends up gaming with vdc gang and bantering with ortho around them, slowly coming out of his shell if only temporarily, and i’m so soft over that)

=

refurbished ramshackle was nice to see but… not really surprising, lol. looks directly at the guest room feature. twsten rlly likes doing things out of order huh.

=

also yuu spent “a few weeks” at pomefiore?? honorary heartslabyul student yuu is out, honorary pomefiore student yuu is in. they even got a uniform!!

jk they can coexist

(i will make them coexist. i love them both sm)

(i wanna see riddle and vil fighting over yuu /hj)

=

“I was called before parliament in the Land of Dawning. Bigwigs from STYX, the Department of Education, AND the Department of Magic all bombarded me with questions and glared daggers at me… ‘Why are so many consecutive overblots happening on your watch?! How do you explain this?!’

“That’s what I want to know! What have I done, except run this school as diligently as I could?! Night Raven College has resident counselors and medical mages appointed by the Department of Education as it is!

“Since the assembly saw no major issues with the school’s leadership, the inquiry came to a close… But I certainly didn’t expect one of our students to bring about an off-campus catastrophe even as we convened!”

crowley actually getting in legal trouble (or at least being threatened with legal trouble) actually surprised me a lot??? i’m so used to thinking stuff like this would more or less get covered up for plot convenience or wtv that it’s nice to see crowley get smacked with it. rip headmage

ALSO rip therapist yuu memes bc NRC HAS THERAPISTS (tho theyre not rlly dead bc. no one SEES the therapists. probably. stubborn kids.)

=

seeing ortho again = no thoughts left in my head redux, “BABY BOY” edition!! he looks so nice!! i love the lil buttons!! rlly i love all the details, looking like an NRC uniform while still being undeniably ortho

“‘I don’t get it’ is a perfect encapsulation of my current state!”

LOL. he’s not wrong though.

=

…of course crowley took a bribe. i dunno why i’m surprised to hear that.

though in vil’s words, “It’s hardly our place to interject if it’s a win-win for both parties, I suppose.”

crowley’s inquiry about grim’s health makes me side-eye him more strongly the more i think about it. yes i know why (grim attacked yuu, was more strongly affected by the blot, etc) but i’m still suspicious, i wanna know if there’s more to it.

“I’m truly glad that you — ah, that is, ALL of you — made it back to the school safe and sound.”

the way he added “all of you” made it seem to me like they were an afterthought compared to grim…

=

twst rlly put aaaall the fluff at the end huh. not like i’m complaining though!! it’s like a reward for getting through all the angst. idia’s gift is very him (lol) and idia and ortho playing video games with everyone is adorable

“We should probably make Idia play holding the controller backwards or something, though. He’s super good.”

“I see what you’re doing, Ortho. Trying to skate by without any handicaps for yourself, huh? YOU’RE the one who needs extra restrictions, like no items allowed.”

=

play for a crowd! is also up there on my list of favorite twistunes but i can’t play it while sleep deprived or my score goes down the toilet. ask me how i know. half the time normal mode is harder than hard mode.

also i haven’t said it anywhere yet but idia’s battle theme is a banger too. ignihyde osts killed it

=

and rook and vil’s discussion of ortho’s soul!! screams!!

“He — or rather, they — chose to try and boost their brother up from the depths below to the skies above. What do you call such love and affection, if not a soul?”

=

the “dream” sequence was so interesting!! yuu and mickey can’t see anything but each other. grim can’t see mickey either, and vice versa.

but. mickey could see silver. why was silver at ramshackle at night? a reasonable assumption is that silver went to ramshackle to find malleus, couldn’t, and left, but really…

why could mickey see silver at all?

i’ve heard (though i haven’t got a source for this unfortunately) that silver says — somewhere — that he’s seen yuu before, or that they look familiar, or something along those lines. i wanna know if this is connected to that. also, silver’s curse. that too. sleep/dreams vs reality etc.

=

and last but not least, lilia is dropping death flags left and right and malleus is Concerned. to be fair, so am i. what’s going on, dude?

(sidenote: damn it riddle’s hair went back to normal. i was hoping he’d just have white hair now 😭)

(also, eagerly awaiting the “gloomurai is idia and muscle red is lilia” reveal in book 7. yana pls.)

(i… may have gotten spoiled a bit. unintentionally. so now i know that in book 7, [REDACTED].)

#py liveblogs twst book 6 #twst #twst book 6 spoilers

[smoozie]

for the describe urself in anon- hair is shoulder length but i want it shorter by a tad and i like dying it blue or purple sometimes pink. i’m average-short (vertically challenged if u will) i like art and crafts and i can pick up most sports. i really like flirty and can be v romantic, i like turtle necks and roller coasters, i think that’s about it also i love paramore

Oooo you sound super cool!! I would date you

#hmmmm #I'm a little sus... #👀 #this sounds an awful lot like Styx #maybe it's not #sorry anon if ur not #anon #ask #ask game #dragonanswers

[annabethy]

skyscrapers dancing in the night

in which percy loves the sound of the night, but he loves annabeth even more,, percabeth

There’s something about nights in the city that Percy has grown to love.

It’s the whistle of the wind in the midst of a stormy night, and the slight creaking and groaning of the building as they shift upon the pillars. It used to scare Percy when he was little, and it took a lot to get over the fear that the building would come crumbling down.  It helped that his girlfriend was an architect, beautiful and brilliant when she’s doing something she loves. She makes the mundane feel otherworldly, and so there’s no missing when she first explains the reason skyscrapers dance in the night.

Percy remembers everything about it. Her eyes had lit up while she spoke. She had spoken fast, her words not enough to keep up with the excitement she felt. She used her hands a lot, too, and it had been so endearing, and—

His point is that he really likes the city now. He loves everything about it. Even the things that he hates.​ It reminds him that after everything they’ve been through, even at the young age of sixteen, there are worse places to be. If there’s anything better than being able to listen to the howling and chatter around him as he drifts off to sleep, safe and alive, he couldn’t think of it.

Not until now, anyway.

There is one thing better than nights in the city where he is reminded that he is still here. It’s having the person who helped him through it all right beside him.

Annabeth lays on top of him now, and he suspects that she’s nearly asleep. It’s innocent enough, the two of them just settled onto his mom’s couch beneath a few layers of blankets. It’s Annabeth’s doing, of course—she always prefers being covered in blankets—but Percy isn’t going to argue with that if it means she’s going to cuddle him like she is right now.

The windows of the apartment are open to their left, and wind blows in there, too. It’s the middle of summer, but being higher up ensures a bit of wind, and it tousles her hair the slightest bit, which he smooths down as gently as he can without risking waking her up.

Percy isn’t even sure what time it is. Sometime after midnight, he would guess, but they’d been watching movies the entire day, so time is nothing more than a word at that moment.

He’s in love with this, he thinks, being able to hold her in his arms while she sleeps. He debates waking her, but he doesn’t want to disturb the cinematic moment, so he lets her sleep a little bit longer before the guilt of letting her sleep on the couch takes over. He lets his fingers trace over her hair then, twisted into a braid by him earlier that day, while his thumb brushes over her cheek until she begins to stir.

“Hey, princess,” Percy says quietly, his palm cupping her cheek now. He catches the subtle twitch of her lips while she extends an arm in a stretch, eyes still closed. “Sleepy?”

Her eyes blink open now, and god, he’s so in love with her and the sleepy smile she gives before she nuzzles her face into his stomach. “Mh-hm.”

“Why don’t you go to bed?”

Annabeth doesn’t answer that, and he knows why. They’ve never actually shared a bed before; at least not on their own terms. Sure, they had slept by one another when they were younger, on one of their quests, but never under the same conditions they are in now.

“I can stay here,” he offers softly, looking at her in awe when she leans back into his palm. “You can take the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m perfectly fine here,” he promises.

“I know that, but...I want you with me.”

And that makes Percy nervous.

He genuinely does just want to be able to sleep in a proper bed with her and hold her in his arms as he pleases. It’s nothing more than that, at least not for right now, but it’s still a new level of intimacy for the two of them. They’ve been through so much, but this is also new, so he figures he’s perfectly justified in being at least a little bit nervous.

Annabeth slides off of his lap to stand in front of him and offer him a hand. When he looks her in the eyes, he sees everything that she means to him. He sees comfort, a best friend, and a home.

“Come on. Take my hand.”

It takes him back to when he’d seen her above him after bathing in the River Styx. His tie to the mortal world.

He takes her hand.

Together, they go back to his room. She swings their conjoined hands between them, lifting onto her toes to ask for a kiss, which he obliges with. He almost forgets how nervous he is until she’s sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him. He follows her move, pulling the comforter back so he can lay on his back, opening his arms moments later for her to crawl into. She settles in his arms again, resting her head over his heart, and he is lost to his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” Annabeth asks quietly, breaking the silence.

His hand is rubbing along her back while he thinks. “I’m not sure.”

“How much you love me?” she teases.

Percy laughs. “How’d you know?”

“I know you.”

“Better than anyone,” he agrees. “I don’t know. I’m just thinking about how much I love this.”

“Us?”

“Being here, together. I never thought I’d live to see this day, and now...I mean. I’m dating my best friend. It doesn’t get much better than this. I feel like I’m going to wake up and be back to where we were a year ago.”

Annabeth coos and her fingers trace shapes on his arm. “You don’t need to worry about waking up and everything disappearing. I’m here to stay.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m just nervous.”

“I can tell,” she jokes, pressing a hand over his heart. “This is just one of many nights spent together.”

“I look forward to it.”

They fall back into a silence for a few minutes before Percy decides he wants to tell her something.

“You know. When I was little, I used to be terrified of sleeping in buildings like these. They were so high up, and then they’d move whenever there was a storm. Do you know why I’m not scared anymore?”

“Why?”

“You told me that they made buildings like that. You were so excited to tell me about it, and I couldn’t possibly be scared of a skyscraper when it was something you loved so much. It seems silly, but it’s true.”

“It’s not silly,” she reassures. “I get it.”

“Every time I see a big building in New York, I think of you. It makes me feel safe. Ever since that day, I’ve loved listening to the sounds outside at night. I’d hear the shifting of the building, and I’d hear your voice.”

Annabeth smothers a smile into the skin of his arm.

“I used to think it couldn’t get better than that.”

“Does it get better?”

“It does when I’m here with you.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that, and neither does she. She just presses a soft kiss to his lips before snuggling into his side for the night. She drifts off to sleep at some point after that, but Percy is still awake as the stars above.

New York City, the place he has grown to love. It holds so many memories filled with fear, trouble, friendship, and love. It’s a beautiful song, and it only gets better when he has Annabeth Chase by his side.

And so Percy pulls Annabeth close and listens to the sounds of skyscrapers dancing in the night.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #my writing

[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 2 – The Man In The Rotting Suit

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5051

You get to go home early, which is nice. Now if only you could shake that guy from the graveyard. It doesn't help that no one else is able to even see him. There has to be some way to get rid of him, right?

Last Chapter | Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

Deep breaths. Inhale through the nose, and exhale through the mouth. You're fine. Just ignore the man grinning at you seated in your passenger seat. Everything was normal and fine. He's not really there.

"So, where to, babes?"

You sucked a long sharp breath and glanced over to the delusion. He definitely looked at home in a graveyard, with the patches of moss on pale skin and sporting a frayed suit coated in dirt and grime. The man flashed you another grin showing off sharp teeth that likely have never seen a toothbrush.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and ignored the apparition while you get your shitty car started. A few minutes later, the car clanged and sputtered awake. You shoot whatever was in your passenger seat a glare before pulling out of the small lot and headed home.

The man next to you groaned after you passed the first stoplight. You glanced over to him. He crossed his arms, and wore a frown on his face. The green color in his hair dulled from when he was in the store. His tone looked to be a more purple hue.

"Come on, babes, I know you can see and hear me!"

You stayed silent and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel while stopped at a red light. He was right—much to your vexation—you could perceive him. In more ideal circumstances you'd seek professional help from a doctor or therapist, but that costs money. So you're forced to bank on the hope that ignoring the delusion makes him disappear.

He huffed and pouted more. "You have no idea how long it's been since anyone could see me. I ain't leaving so soon."

You press your lips tighter into a line and kept your eyes on the road. His peculiar wording bounced around in your head for the next few stops. Soon that bled into playing the events of the funeral. He was there, bugging the mourners and going unnoticed.

"Fine. What are you?"

You catch the dimmer purple wash away from his hair and brighten to a vivid green.

"Aw babes, I knew you'd come around!"

"Please answer the question."

"Oh, and so polite! Alright sweets, since you asked so nicely; I am a ghost!"

You spared a glance over to him as you turned onto the dingy road leading to your apartment. The skeptic in you wanted to counter and say that wasn't possible, but you doubted voicing that would magically make your unwanted passenger disappear.

"Alright then, mister ghost, why are you following me?"

"Already told ya, you're the first breather able to see me in a long time."

"So, are you planning to haunt me? Make my life worse than it already is? Because so help me god I'll kick your ass straight to Hell if you try."

You parked your car and turned, giving him a pointed glare. His citrine eyes lit up as his grin stretched so large it threatened to split his face.

"Feisty! I like that in a breather."

You grumbled under your breath and looked around the parking lot. Your car was one of maybe four parked there. There weren't any milling tenets out, either. Nevertheless, you weren't keen on staying out in your car the entire day talking to a ghost.

"I'm going inside. If you want to follow me, then you're going to have to answer my questions. Got it?"

"Anything you want, babes."

You breathed out through your nose and unbuckled yourself. As you stepped out you caught sight of the ghost floating out the front of your car where he waited for you on the curb. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he rolled back, putting his weight on his heels. The ghost flashed you another grin, and you doubted any good could come from this.

No second guesses or weaseling out by that point. You told him to follow you as you made your way to the apartment. Up the flight of stairs and to the end of the hall, you were almost home free.

"Parker!"

The harsh rasp of a smoker shouted at you. Every fiber of your being tensed up, and you fought to put on a smile in front of the dragon. She marched up to you with narrow eyes locked on you.

"Hi Donna."

"Who the hell left your apartment yesterday? I swear if you're smuggling a roommate in there I'm going to raise your rent."

"That was my friend, Sam. They're moving and stopped by to say goodbye. Wait, how did you know Sam even visited? Didn't you go out last night?"

"I got complaints about you."

You keep your mouth shut for the moment. This was a conversation you preferred not to drag out. You simply nodded to her as you carefully thought over your next words.

"Sam only dropped by to say goodbye."

"And who is 'Cassie'?"

You tensed up to the point your muscles could turn to stone any minute. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and you struggled to keep up a friendly act.

"They're a co-worker."

Donna huffed at you, followed by a sneer showing off tobacco-stained teeth. She waved you off and turned, pulling out her smokes as she left. Donna uttered an insult your way before descending the stairs.

"Ain't she a delight."

You whipped your attention to the gravelly voice and found the specter with narrowed eyes pointed at the landing. His brow and nose scrunched up as he glared and you noted odd flecks of red in his hair.

You got your keys out and unlocked your door. "She's a bitch, but this apartment was the best I could afford. Easier to just grin and bear it."

"You know sweets, we could help one another with our problems." He said. You raise a brow at him before you stepped into the apartment. While he didn't exactly need you to, you stepped to the side and held the door open for him. "Babes, you are adorable. I'd give ya a big ol' 'thank you' kiss if I could."

"Please don't," you said, closing the door.

He let out a hardy laugh and then winked your way. You frowned and leaned against the wall with crossed arms. He scanned over the apartment while you studied him. The ghost's ragged appearance gave the impression that he recently crawled out of the grave. His pale skin grew bits of moss that blended into his hair. Dark rings circled his amber eyes. And a layer of rot and grime coated his odd frayed suit.

"Like what ya see, sweets?"

Heat rushed to your face, and you furrowed your brow at that. "You could use a bath."

"You breathers and bathing. What's even the point of it?"

"Health. It cleans away dead skin, and any diseases stuck on you, helps with sore muscles and aches, and can just help improve your mood overall."

"Shit. I didn't expect you to actually have an answer."

"Had one or two school wide lessons back in high school telling the kids that body spray was not a substitute for a shower."

He blinked at you. He shrugged a moment later and took a step closer, with his hands behind his back. "Anyway, back to my point. I think we can help each other out."

"How?"

"You and me could get rid of that awful hag! Decapitation, eaten alive by rats, electrocution, I'm open to suggestions!"

"Real casual with murder, huh? Yeah, no, not interested."

"Wait! Okay, it doesn't have to be murder. I could scare her so bad that she runs off and never comes back! We can workshop that later. But first I need you to say my name!"

"What would saying your name do to 'help'? And I don't know your name, you never said it."

The nameless ghost rolled his eyes and heaved out a sigh. Did the dead still need to breathe? That didn't seem right.

"Right now I can't affect much of anything. You saw how that guy walked right through me, right?"

You nodded.

"But if you say my name three times, I get my powers back and won't be stuck being invisible." There was a certain excitement in his tone when he said that. One that lit up his amber eyes with... something.

Your lips twitch downward as you mulled over his words. He said earlier you were the first person to see him in a long time. How long you couldn't be sure without asking, but truly any stretch of time sounded so lonely. However, you couldn't just let him have free range to do whatever he pleased. He already proposed murder as means of dealing with your landlady. This ghost could be impossibly destructive if unleashed.

"I don't know. How can I—"

A vicious yowl made you jump. It came from the other side of the wall.

"Shit!"

You rushed around the corner and opened the bathroom door. A white blur ran past you to the underside of the coffee table. Aqua colored eyes glared at you, only to shift focus in the ghost's direction.

You ignored that for the moment and instead turned your attention to the bathroom. The smell hit you first, the acrid scent of cat piss. You groaned as you looked over the state of the bathroom. The toilet paper shredded in tethers on the cheap linoleum, food and water bowls flipped with contents scattered, and a yellow puddle next to the litter box. Fantastic.

"Why was your cat locked in the bathroom?"

"I'm pet-sitting for a friend, and I can't have pets in the apartment," You said while you dug out the cleaning supplies from under the sink. "I'm keeping him mostly confined to the bathroom, so it's not obvious a cat's here for two weeks."

"Why are you pet-sitting if you can't have pets here?"

"Because my friend couldn't board their cat anywhere else. They promised me a couple hundred bucks to do it too, so I bit the bullet."

"If you're hard up for cash, I know an easier way to get it."

You glanced back at him with a raised brow but kept quiet to focus on cleaning. A minute later, once cleaned of Rigel's mess, you tossed the toilet paper in the bathroom trash and asked, "And what method would that be?"

"Just taking it! I won't get caught, babes, and even if I did, there's nothing a breather could do about it. Come on, all you gotta do is say my name three times in a row!"

You stay quiet for a minute as you washed your hands. You dried your hands and turned to face him, saying once more, "I don't know your name."

"Well, I can't say it."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I'm cursed. I can't say my own name."

"Is it... Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Sweets, that hurts. You really think my sexy self could be that little imp?"

"Well, other than taking more shots in the dark, how else would I figure out your name?"

"We could..." He trailed off, scratching the stubble on his chin. His face lit up a moment later as he said, "We could play a game or something so you can figure it out!"

His grin stretched wide as he wore an earnest hope on his features. It was rather sweet, strangely enough, and made the notion of turning him down seem harsh. You mulled over your decision. While you didn't want to say no, you weren't keen on agreeing either. If you said yes, he'd expect you to say his name afterwards.

"And if I figure out your name, then what? Setting you free doesn't seem like a smart idea."

He instantly deflated when he heard that. Smile gone, brows furrowed. Even the vibrancy of his green hair looked like it dulled to a blueish purple. He looked crushed, and knowing you caused it struck you with a bit of guilt. You couldn't blindly trust him, but you didn't want to see him so hurt.

"Look. We just met. How do I know I can trust you?"

"Cause we're BFFFFs Forever!"

"B-F-F—... You want to be friends?"

He nodded vigorously, with a glimmer of hope rekindled in his eyes. Your guts twisted into tighter and tighter knots the longer he gave you the lost puppy look. If he truly was alone and unseen for any stretch of time, then desperately wanting a friend made sense. And for whatever strange reason, you were the one able to see him.

"Okay. I'll make you a deal. We can be friends, but I won't free you until you've earned my trust. If I feel like I can trust you by the end of the month, then I'll say your name."

His grin reappeared, showing off sharp yellowed teeth. His hair also grew to a vibrant green. "Aw babes, you're the best! We are going to be great friends!"

You gave him a half smile, finding his excitement endearing if not a tad contagious. You finished up with cleaning the rest of the mess, and while doing so, you threw out a few more guesses of what his name might be. They were all wrong, but "Cthulhu" got a laugh out of him.

Once done with tidying the bathroom, you check on the furball under the shoddy coffee table. The devil cat hissed at you and swiped a clawed paw at you for daring to get so close. His eyes were thin slits and seemed to shift between yourself and somewhere behind you. You followed his gaze and landed on the ghost. You even asked him to move and the cat's gaze followed him.

"Huh. Looks like Rigel can see you."

"Rigel?"

"The fuzz-bucket of pure rage over here. His name is Rigel."

"Like the star in Orion?"

"Yeah, actually. The bright white star, that's why Sam named him that."

"Do you know any other stars in Orion?"

"Not off-hand. Why?"

"Eh... can't say."

You raised a brow at him. You wanted to find out the other stars in the constellation after he asked that—but with no internet access at the apartment or even a smartphone, you couldn't do that. All you owned was a cheap little prepaid flip phone straight out of the early aughts.

You shrugged it off and made a note to search that the next day on the store's computer. In the meantime, you sat down on the couch, kicking your shoes off to pull your feet up too. You didn't want to take the chance of that cat getting ballsy and going after you.

"So Mr. Whatsyourname, how am I going to figure out your name?"

He floated down to the other end of the couch and shrugged. You pressed your lips tight and hummed in thought as you worked out a means to find out his name.

"Well, playing twenty questions is getting us nowhere. Then again, throwing out random guesses isn't how you play that, but whatever. You can't spell it out, can you?"

"No, I suck at spelling it. And I can't, cause that would count as telling you it."

"Hmm, do you think you could use pictures to 'spell' it? Like using—a fly, a car, and a dog, to get the result of a flying carpet?"

"That might work, but I can't affect things, babes."

"But I can. Give me a sec, I'll get some paper." You rushed off to your bedroom and come back with a pencil and sketch pad. You took your seat back on the couch and turned to sit side by side with the ghost rather than facing him. "Alright, you tell me what shapes to draw."

You flipped to a blank page, skipping the older pages filled with various sketches and doodles. Once you got to a clean page, you held the book at an angel he could easily see.

The first thing he said to draw was a rectangle, a narrow one standing upright. Then a shorter and much thinner one at the top of the first. Followed by a third the same size as the second but connecting with it at an angle.

"Is that a juice box?"

"Nix the box."

"Juice?"

He nodded with a Cheshire grin. "Great! Now draw a circle on the front of the box."

You did so, as well as draw the six lines going out from the circle like he asked.

"Bug?"

"No, more specific. Draw lines on it in a 'T' shape."

You drew the segments on the bug, which gave it a distinct head and a line along its back. You look over the drawing and ask, "Is it a beetle?"

"Yes!"

"Beetle... juice?"

"Yes! You got it!"

You hum to yourself and look over the picture more. Such a strange name. Was that his name in life, too? Or did he get a new name upon death? Does everyone? Can you choose your name?

"I can see why your name's Art."

You shook out of your thoughts and jerked your head to the ghost—Beetlejuice—sitting beside you. You huffed a small laugh and closed the sketchbook.

"That's not my name."

"But that guy at the store—"

"I don't put my real name on my apron."

"Okay, Parker—"

"Not my name either."

"What? But that bitch called you Parker."

"I don't want people knowing my name. So, I don't give out my real name."

"Not even to your BFFFF Forever?"

"How about instead of telling you, you try to guess it? No hints either."

Beetlejuice groaned and whined at that, but you didn't budge. You instead gave him a sly smile of your own. He puffed out his cheeks and glared at you, and you did your best to not break into laughter. How was that disheveled ghost able to look so cute?

"Babes, tell me! You know my name now, I want to know yours."

"I had to play a game to figure out your name, only fair you have to do the same to learn mine."

"I'm cursed though. I can't say my name. Well, my middle name anyway."

You blinked and tilted your head as you processed his last comment. His middle name? How odd. You shrugged at him and said, "You can either try to figure out my name or maybe if I end up trusting you, I'll tell you. But for now, you don't need it."

"Then what the hell am I supposed to call you?"

"You've been doing just fine with nicknames like—babes, sweets, and breather."

"Fine. But I want to know your name at some point."

"When I'm more comfortable, it's a personal thing. What about you, though? Can I call you by a nickname?"

"Sure! You could use—sexy, or handsome, or hot stuff."

"Or none of those," you said, shaking your head. You did your best not to crack and laugh. "How about Beetle, or Bug? Simple and sweet."

"You think I'm sweet?" He asked with a purr that caused your face to burn.

"I think you're weird, and strange, but not the most terrible at least."

"I'll take it!"

There was that bright smile again. Wide and full of sharp teeth. This ghost was a very perplexing being. The more you saw his smile, the more your own lips curled into a smile of your own.

"Okay, so if you're going to hang around here, we should set up some ground rules and get other things squared away. Like—I don't want you going in my bedroom unless I invite you in and stay out of the bathroom too."

"Aw, that's no fun."

"Do you sleep or anything?"

"I can, but I don't need to. Same goes for food when I'm not stuck being invisible."

"Can you affect anything while you're like that? Lights? Electronics?"

"No. The air gets cold around me. Other than that, can't do much of anything while invisible."

You nodded with a small frown. That must be so boring—stuck watching the world go by, unable to affect anything or even seen by anyone. That experience didn't sound pleasant. As much as you wanted to keep a low profile, you couldn't bear to be that level of unnoticed.

"Well..." you said, getting your thoughts back on track, "If you don't need to sleep, what do you want to do while I'm asleep? You want me to set up a movie for you in the living room? Or I guess you could go snoop around the other apartments and see what everyone else is doing. Lord knows there's always someone awake in this place no matter the hour."

"You're giving me a free pass to spy on your neighbors?"

"You said you can't affect anything other than making it cold, so I don't see a problem. Hell maybe if you annoy enough people with cold spots Donna will have to deal with a bunch of complaints. Maybe she'll even waste money trying to fix things, that'd be fun."

"We are going to be such great friends."

You huffed out a small laugh. As strange as he was—and maybe a little too gung ho with murdering your landlady—Beetlejuice seemed like he would make for... interesting company.

You checked the time on your phone. Five in the afternoon. Only an hour left of your shift. Well, if you hadn't left early. You tossed your phone on the coffee table with a clatter. Your action earned a venomous hiss from Rigel.

"So, um, if you don't need to sleep but can, do you want me to set up the couch as a bed? I don't have anywhere else to set one up and if Donna thinks I have other people living here, she's going to be pissed."

"Good thing I'm dead."

You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes. "Well yeah, technically. Existing here then, which dead or alive; you do exist. And that would still piss off Donna."

He huffed and narrowed his eyes, but glanced away from you. "I know you said you want to trust me first, sweets, but I could do a helluva lot more than just annoy her with cold spots. Just give me a chance!"

"I don't know... I don't like her but I don't think that would be a good idea." You sat looking blankly at the couch cushions as you hummed in thought. Even if he had good intentions going in—or more accurately, intentions that benefited you—things could go wrong and land you in a worse spot. Good intentions paved the road to Hell, after all.

"Babes, please, I'm begging. Ya gotta let me do something! I can even hold back on hurting her if that's what you want! I'll just scare the shit out of her!"

You thought over the proposition, and it sounded enticing. You tapped a finger against your cheek as various scenarios of Donna, scared out of her mind, played out. "That does sound fun, maybe later—Wait! It's October!"

"It is? Huh. I thought it was still July."

"Wait what? How...?"

"When you've been around for over a millennium, you stop bothering to keep tabs on time."

"A millennium? That's, holy crap. Okay, I have questions, but first what I was originally saying; It's October. So that means at the end of the month is Halloween. So, what if, if things go well and I trust you by then we plan a big scare for this All Hallows' Eve?"

The ghost shot up, bouncing on the couch. The sudden movement freaked out Rigel enough for him to scurry off to another hiding spot. "Hell yes! Babes, you're the best!" This ghost vibrated with barely contained excitement and you could have sworn he was glowing green.

You held up your hand to hold in a laugh. Beetlejuice radiated a pure joy that was not only endearing but also infectious. While precious to see him so happy, you asked him to compose himself and sit. Incorporeal or not, it’s difficult to carry a conversation while a ghost jumped on the furniture.

He sank back and sat on the couch, though he chose the arm of the couch as his seat. He faced you, still sporting a grin and vibrant green hue, and you couldn't stop smiling at this happy dork. Wanting to keep your discussion going, you cleared your throat and picked things back up with a question.

"You said you've been around for a millennium. So does that mean you lived during the... eleventh century?"

"I was around then, but I've never been alive. I was born dead."

"Born dead? Do... you mean like a stillborn?"

"Not in the way you're thinking. I'm a demon straight from Hell."

"You're a demon-ghost? Ghost-demon?"

"Both, yeah. But enough about me, as great as I am. How'd a pretty little breather like you end up in this shitty apartment?"

You frown and grabbed at your sleeve, not wanting to look him in the eye anymore. "It's kinda complicated and I don't want to go into all of it. I'm just... scraping my life back together and this place is the best I can afford right now." You stayed quiet for a moment before looking back at the ghost. The vibrant joy on his features faded drastically. Guilt stung in your heart for dampening the mood and offered the best masking smile you could muster. You weren't sure it looked all that convincing.

Beetlejuice stayed quiet a moment longer before a smirk pulled at his lips. "Well, now you know who you can call if ya need help dealing with a few problems."

"The ghostbusters?" You asked and cracked a genuine smile.

"Pff. Them? Nah, babe, the ghost with the most! Just gotta say my name three times, spoken unbroken!"

The self proclaimed "ghost with the most" puffed out his chest in a bid to look impressive. It earned a soft chuckle out of you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

A low growl filled the room. Heat seared your cheeks as you wrapped an arm over your stomach. Lunch wasn't as filling as you had hoped. You sighed and stood with a stretch. If you didn't make dinner soon, you'll end up nauseous from hunger later.

Your new familiar spirit stayed put sitting on the arm of the couch. However, when you glanced back at him, his head turned around to face you. It unnerved you, and the longer you looked at him the worse the feeling got.

You shook it off as best you can and headed to the fridge, which hid behind a wall jutting out to separate the living room and kitchen. And right then doubled as a divider that blocked you from view of the couch.

Once you dug out the mixed vegetables from the freezer, you turned and caught sight of a large blur on your counter. You seized up, knees locking, and heard a loud laugh bellow out.

"Aw babes, you should've seen the look on your face."

Beetlejuice wiped away some tears, then snapped his fingers. You blinked a few times, unsure what to think of seeing your face on his body. He twisted his—your? features into an expression of shock before cackling. Your mouth hung open, but you couldn't find any words. So you just shook your head and carried on making dinner.

As you worked on getting your dinner prepared, you pick back up the conversation. You and Beetlejuice took turns asking questions to get to know one another. Beetlejuice opened by sharing about his banishment—no clear details, just stated the fact it happened. He also said he got a kick out of the spread of the bubonic plague through Europe.

You grabbed a bowl and poured in your steaming dinner. The savory flavoring of the noodles mixed with the thawed vegetables and wafted in the air. Once you turned the stove off, you sat back on the couch. In between bites, you divulged a few minor details about yourself, like how you've worked for Mr. Turner close to a year and a half, and your hope to one day work in a haunted house attraction. That topic piqued Beetlejuice's interest.

"So, you get to scare people. As a job?"

"Y-yeah. I've thought being a haunted house actor could be a lot of fun. But there's no acting job close enough willing to pay the rate I'd need to make it worth it. And it's seasonal. So it's gotta stay a dream job."

You ate your noodles and mixed vegetables, allowing the specter to take over the conversation and regale you with various stories. One of his stories got you to laugh so hard you ended up swallowing wrong. It took a minute of coughing and sputtering before you stopped choking on your food. You cleared your throat with a short groan and fought to stop laughing.

After you finished dinner, you checked the time. It wasn't too late, but with everything that happened, drowsiness gnawed at the edge of your mind. You tapped your fork against the rim of the bowl as you walked through the mental checklist of what you needed to do before bed. Beetlejuice asked what you were doing and frowned when you told him.

"You're going to bed already?"

"I have work tomorrow and you gave me a few good scares today. I'm getting tired."

He pouted, but you noticed he cracked a smile, hearing that he scared you. You rolled your eyes and got up to put your dish in the sink. When you returned, you pulled several movie cases and set them on the coffee table.

"Pick whichever one you want, I can put it on for you before I go to bed."

You give him a small smile and leave to get ready. A few minutes later, once in your pajamas with your teeth brushed and the cat wrangled back into the bathroom, Beetlejuice picked out a movie. You got it started and tidied up the couch for him.

"You don't have to clean on my account, babes. I don't mind the mess."

"I don't mind, you're my guest, and I want things to be nice." You said and gave him another smile. "G'night, Beetle. See ya in the morning."

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing

[breadoffoxy]

Blood and Darkness

Summary: You were Death and Jungkook was Life. Two sides of the same coin bonded through blood and darkness.

Written for the BTS Ghosite Marathon. Prompt: Theme: X-Inspired, x = Hades

Drabble: 7/30

Pairing: Thanatos!Reader x Zagreus!Jungkook

Genre: fluff, humor, minor angst

Warnings: small Hades spoiler, mentions of blood and violence but not depicted in detail, tiny amount of angst in the form of feeling betrayed and abandoned

Word Count: 1,067

A/N: I love Hades and want to do more of this with other groups since there are so many amazing characters. I’d love to hear your thoughts on which character you would make each member if you know the game. Also, knowledge of the game isn’t required to understand this. Think of it as a Greek mythology au.

You would go to the ends of the world for Jungkook. Which is saying a lot considering you were Death. Nearly everything was in your reach except the far realms of the underworld belonging to Chaos. Yet despite being the literal incarnation of death, you couldn’t stop him from dying over and over again.

Namjoon once told you to think of it as a cycle of rebirth. He believed Jungkook to be the god of blood and life. Fitting, you thought, with the family motto being blood and darkness. The warrior also continued on saying the two of you were two sides on the same coin. With a chuckle, he explained that’s probably why the two of you got along so well despite your opposite demeanor. You never seen him laugh so much when you said with a straight face, “A coin with common sense on one side and stupidity on the other.”

Jungkook’s return is, as always, loudly announced by your brother, which you hear now. Jin always has the most wonderful advice such as did you try not stepping into that trap and wow Jimin’s whip hurts, don’t get hit by it. Obviously.

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts you still are distant from your brothers, but you are trying. You swear he’s closer to them than you’ll ever be though. Yoongi will most likely remain a mystery to you as your interactions, at best, are more of a business transaction than anything. You bring him dead souls, and he grumbles and ferries them across the River Styx. The two of you appreciate the simplicity of it all.

“Ah, here you are brooding in your corner again I see.”

“I’m not brooding.” Turning, you see Jungkook striding towards you with a grin in his red and black robes. His feet glow like burning embers, lively and bright just like his essence. “Why are you so happy to be back?”

Jungkook doesn’t speak until he’s right next to you. You can feel yourself tense at his closeness, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I saw her again, my mother.”

No longer does the sting of betrayal hit you when he talks about his mother. You first believed him going on a suicide run out of the underworld to find the woman who left him after his birth to be him spitting on you and everything you’ve gone through. You yelled at him, bitter and resentful, yet you helped him anyways. As pathetic as it sounded, he was your whole world. With each escape attempt he went on you saw him grow and become all the happier with his newfound purpose. Every time he saw you, he’d grin that stupid smile he was wearing now. You learned he wasn’t replacing you, but expanding his world, and you’d do anything to help him because you-

“What are you thinking about?”

You do not startle, you are Death, but Jungkook’s smirk swears you did. Blatantly turning your head to the side, you grumble, “Nothing.” Jungkook’s smirk grows at your answer and before he can go on about it further you whisper, “I’m glad your efforts are proving fruitful. How is she fairing?”

“Well.” Jungkook looks wistful before his face clouds over. “I still feel as if I never have enough time with her.” The look is gone and he is smiling again. “I helped her with her garden and had some strawberries. Have you had them before?”

Tilting your head to the side, you think hard on it. Jungkook’s eyes soften at the sight and continues on when you shrug. “Well, no matter. I must tell Taehyung about the taste. Maybe that will be enough to give him inspiration again.”

“If your fantastical feats you boast haven’t risen him from his mood, then I’m not sure if strawberries are the key.”

“Never know until I try. Come.”

“I rather not.”

Jungkook pulls aside his tunic to show off the large vial of ambrosia.

“Fine.”

The two of you walk through the hall side by side, and you are happy that the master of the house is out. Jungkook stops to give Cerberus a big pat on the head and then he excitedly talks the depressed looking musician. The man actually perks up and strums at his harp. Taehyung asks a question, Jungkook shakes his head, and then the musician’s expression sours. An awful twang sounds out and Jungkook backs away slowly before catching up with you.

“Next time, remind me that I need to bring down some strawberries for him.”

You snort at his remark and nod at Hoseok as you approach the dining area. He waves excitedly at you before screeching at the sight of Jungkook and disappearing at the blink of an eye.

“What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook doesn’t look convinced though. “I think?”

“If by nothing you mean the bloody mess the champion of Elysium dragged in and went on in great detail about your heinous deeds as Hoseok cleaned up after him?” A suave voice asks behind you. Jimin nods at you in greeting as he steps around the table he was at, but just raises an eyebrow at Jungkook.

“Is he really the champion if I keep beating him?” Jungkook doesn’t look ashamed in the least. “Plus, what if I said he deserved it?”

Jimin shrugs, “I could care less about him but what your exploits do to burden the house is something that falls on me. I may be able to put in a good word with you with Hoseok though.” Jimin reaches his arm out, waiting expectantly.

Jungkook, already anticipating this moment, pulls out a bottle of ambrosia. “How about this to sweeten the deal?”

“There is no deal, this is me taking contraband.” Despite his words, Jimin is smiling as he pockets the valuable drink. “Now do try not to get into too much trouble.”

Jungkook watches Jimin leave and once the fury rounds the corner, he pulls out another bottle of the splendid drink. Discreetly, he pours a cup for him and you. Being gods, you didn’t have to eat or drink, but everyone in the underworld never misses their chance to get a taste of the rare delicacy, even you.

“You are unbelievable.”

Jungkook grins over his glass, watching you enjoy the drink. “Oh, come on, you love me.”

“Please,” you scoff, but his words never rang truer.

#btsghostiemarathon #btsghostiebingo #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts hades #hades au #greek au #zagreus!Jungkook #thanatos!reader #charon!Yoongi #Megaera!Jimin #Hypnos!Jin #Achilles!Namjoon #Dusa!Hoseok #Orpheus!Taehyung #my writing #blood and darkness

[crimsinsky]

Sooo I might be obsessed with Jackie and Hyde dating without the Kelso intro... I wish you would write a story where Hyde and Jackie date without her having dated Kelso first. I would love to see Hyde introducing her as his girlfriend bonus if he introduces her to red and kitty!

I'm sorry it took me so long to finish and that it's so long, I got carried away.

Slight trigger warning- nothing happens but attempted non con by background character.

********************************************

The school was deserted for the most part and Hyde was over it. But Forman had to get stuck staying late to work on a project today of all days.

There was nothing remarkable about today, Hyde was just in a bad mood and if he could blame someone else then he’d take the chance.

He was down to counting the minutes that Forman said he’d be done but it was too late, he needed a smoke. He wasn’t stupid enough to do that out in the open at school, you never knew who would narc on you, but he had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and a craving he needed to tackle.

He was heading off behind the bleachers, Forman would know to look for him there, it was where he always smoked when he got stuck waiting on him.

He heard a commotion, just what he needed his usual spot taken by some horny losers who couldn’t get a room.

“Stop it,” the girl said firmly.

“Come on baby.”

“I am not your baby and I said no.”

Never one to stay out of a fight, Hyde rushed forward.

“Get your hands off of me,” the girl shrieked.

“Hey,” Hyde pulled the boy off the girl and punched him in the face.

He went down hard.

“I think she said no,” Hyde loomed over him. He’d never even seen this kid before, but his blood was on Hyde’s knuckled and streaming down his face.

“Man whatever, she’s just a fucking tease.”

The girl came over and kicked him in the stomach, making him double over on the ground and wheeze.

“You’re a disgusting pig,” she said and started to walk away.

He wheezed, “You can forget about me driving you home.”

“You think,” she shouted before turning back and kicking him in the shins for good measure.

Hyde kept a reasonable distance but didn’t want to leave her out there all alone.

Nearing the parking lot she stopped walking and turned toward her savior.

Hyde got closer.

“Thank you uh… I don’t know your name,” she said shyly.

“Hyde.”

She snorted, “That’s not your name. No one would name their kid Hyde.”

He knew he should have been more annoyed but her change in attitude caught his attention. Though he was still a little annoyed, “It’s my last name.”

“Then what’s your real name?”

“Are you always this big a pain in the ass?”

“Usually yes, so what is your name?” She asked again.

He could have just walked away after she got to safety, but here he was playing 20 questions with this irritating cheerleader. “Steven,” he growled, “but my name is Hyde.”

“Was that so difficult?” Now she looked almost timid, “Thank you, Steven Hyde.”

There was something in the way she said it, the way she looked at him, the way she looked so small. She’d gone from kicking ass to joking, and now she looked not exactly scared of him, but definitely unsure. All his irritation with her melted.

He softened his voice, “Are you okay?” He looked her over, she didn’t seem like she got hurt but you never knew.

She nodded, “I’m fine, he yanked me behind the bleachers and everyone else was gone. I’m really lucky you were here.”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll try it again with you,” He tried distracting her with humor, “did you break a rib or something?”

“No, that’s too far to the side, I might have got his gallbladder though.” She said brightly as if she were simply stating that today was sunny out.

“Hyde,” Eric shouted from the parking lot.

“Hold on a second,” he told her.

He must be a complete God Damned idiot for what he was about to do. Well, Red did always say he was a dumbass.

“Took you long enough,” Hyde growled.

“Sorry mom, my partner nearly burned down the chem lab, it was stay late or fail the semester.”

“Whatever Forman, look can you drop her off at home?” Hyde gestured towards the girl watching him curiously. He’d told her to hold on so she would. Either way, she was curious about him.

Eric raised an eyebrow, “What have you been up to while I was in class?

“Fighting actually.”

“Yeah, that makes the most sense, but sure I can drop her off.”

Hyde ran back to her, “You want a ride home?”

“You’re seriously offering to take me home?”

“Well, you’re ride seems to have left for some reason.

“That would be great actually,” she said relieved. She hated walking home after practice. After school, she didn’t mind, but now it was a little late to be walking alone and with what just happened she didn’t want to be alone.

She followed him to the parking lot.

“So Hyde who’s your friend?” Eric asked. It was so rare that they ever saw Hyde talk to a girl let alone offer her a ride home Eric was not about to squander this opportunity.

“Uh,” he realized in their fighting over his name he never asked her for hers.

“I was wondering if you had any manners,” she said coyly to Hyde. “I’m Jackie Burkhart.”

“I’m Eric,”

Jackie turned to Hyde, “See how easy that was Steven.”

Eric’s face nearly split in two, “Steven, have you been rude?”

“You want me to hit you because I will.”

Eric smirked at him, a silent promise that he would bring it up again.

They got in and Styx started blaring from the radio.

“Styx really?” Hyde groaned at Forman.

“I’m driving, it’s my car, I pick whatever music I want,”

“Maybe Jackie doesn’t like Styx.” He was hoping that having ears that worked she would agree with him.

“They’re not bad,” Jackie said. “But I like ABBA more, they’re my favorite.”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “You cannot be serious?”

“I am, they’re amazing.”

Eric had a perfectly awful idea, this cheerleader seemed to be annoying Hyde and he was taking it probably because she was a girl. But his torture could go a little farther.

“Hey Jackie, some of our friends are hanging out at my house if you want to hang out for a while?”

“Really, who’s there?”

“There’s that foreign exchange kid Fez, Kelso, and my girlfriend Donna. We’re probably just going to watch TV but someone is bound to do something stupid.”

“Alright, it sounds fun,”

Hyde shot him a look that meant he’d kill him. Well, he hadn’t done it yet, so Eric didn’t worry about it.

When they walked into the basement they saw two boys trying to duct tape fireworks to a suit, and a redheaded girl with her head in her hands.

“Is everything okay?” Hyde asked Donna.

“I hid the matches but they’re still stupid,” Donna said without looking up.

“Hey, everyone this is Jackie,” Eric announced.

At that, Donna looked up.

“Oh thank God, another girl.” Donna was desperate for anyone who was not one of her stupid friends to talk to. “Please save me from this idiotic amount of testosterone.”

Jackie made a beeline for Donna and plopped down next to her, “You must be Donna, Eric talked about you on the way over.”

Kelso finally looked up from his firework suit.

“Oh my god she’s hot.” He jumped over to the couch. “Since you’re a cheerleader we should totally go out,” Kelso said.

Donna sighed, “I told you, stupid.”

“Why?” Jackie looked up at him blankly.

“Cuz you’re like super hot.”

“I know that, but why does that mean I should go out with you?”

“Burn,” Fez looked to Eric hopefully, “did I do that right?”

“You’re getting the hang of it buddy.”

The girls chatted and tried to ignore Kelso and Fez.

“We were talking about going to the disco in Kenosha, that seems like it would be up your alley.”

“Absolutely, when are you going? I will totally go.”

“Donna, really, disco?” Hyde asked, he hated disco.

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean we all can’t be seen in the only club within three hours for a night,” she shot back.

“But who are you going with? Like you shouldn’t go alone,” Kelso said trying to push himself into their conversation hoping to get an in with Jackie.

“Hmm, I’ll go with,” Jackie’s eyes roamed the three single boys landing briefly on each of them, and lingering a little longer on Hyde.

“Donna. She did invite me after all.”

“You can’t go with Donna, you have to go with a guy?”

Hyde smirked at Kelso not getting his way.

“Who said I do? And I don’t really know any of you, so Donna will you go with me and these boys can do whatever?”

“You know what sure, except Eric definitely has to go with us because of the car.”

“Because of the car? Really, is all I am to you a set of wheels.”

“No, just when we want to leave town.” Donna turned back to Jackie, “We’re going on Saturday,”

“Perfect. Do you have a dress we could go shopping before then?”

“That would be great.”

They hung out for a while until Jackie finally called her dad to pick her up before her curfew. “I have to get going, but this was fun,” she stood and headed for the door, “It was nice meeting everyone.”

Once she was gone it was like the volume dropped three decibels.

“So, looks like Donna has a new friend too.”

“Jackie’s cool, energetic like crazy but she’s cool. Though she did call me a lumberjack because of the flannel shirt.”

“How did you meet her?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Eric grinned idiotically, “Our boy Hyde here met her while I was stuck in the Science Lab. Now how did that happen?”

“Get bent,” Hyde replied.

“Manners like that, no wonder she agreed to hang out here. She was totally swept away,” Eric kept egging him on.

“Some guy was hassling her and she was alone alright,” Hyde crossed his arms and went back to watching TV.

“So you swoop in and try to get some with heroic gratitude nice,” Kelso said.

“Hey, Kelso come here,” Hyde waved him over.

Kelso stood beside him and Hyde nailed him in the side.

“Sorry, ow,” he pouted.

“Say something like that in front of Jackie and she might do worse, she did to the guy that was bothering her.” Hyde suppressed a smile.

He didn’t smile, but still, the memory of her as little as she was, kicking the crap out of that guy, it made him kind of fond of her.

Hyde humiliated himself over and over, he didn’t know why he did it. He also didn’t know why he was going to this stupid club, other than watching Kelso get rejected that never got old.

But Red saw right through him and Kitty spent the next few days teaching him to dance. He wasn’t great but he could manage.

Plus he’d seen Kelso dance before. Hyde was practically Fred Astaire in comparison.

Hyde was waiting outside for everyone since Donna wanted to see Eric’s reaction to her in girly clothes.

He looked up when he heard a car door shut.

She was stunning. Gone was the cute little girl he’d found behind the bleachers, she looked radiant with her hair curled but loose ringlets framing her delicate face.

“Wow, you look beautiful,”

Her smile turned almost shy at the praise. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.”

“Yeah, well.”

Before he could say anything else Forman and Donna came outside and they were followed by Tweedle Dee and Dumb.

“What no flowers?” Jackie asked Donna.

“You asked me remember?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, stop trying to steal my girlfriend,” Eric joked realizing he too didn’t have flowers for Donna.

“Don’t be so hasty Eric,” Kelso said. “Just see where the night takes it.”

Everyone except Fez hit or kicked him at once.

“Alright everyone in before my mom tries to get pictures.”

“I’m not sitting next to Michael,” Jackie declared.

“You take window, I’ll sit beside you, that work?” Hyde asked.

“Yes,” she agreed easily.

“Great let’s get in the car and go.” He desperately wanted to get going before Mrs. Forman found them all.

Kelso asked her to dance, which Jackie refused, she’d watched him dance alone on the floor, she wasn’t sure if he was going to hurt someone and she didn’t want to be liable.

Fez asked her next when she refused he and Donna went to the dance floor.

He was a great dancer, she admitted.

The truth was she didn’t want to dance with them, she was interested in someone else.

“Why aren’t you dancing,” Hyde asked her,

“I didn’t want to dance with Kelso or Fez.”

“But you want to dance?”

“Yes,” she said honestly. She had that timid look from a few days before and he couldn’t help himself.

He had after all spent days learning these stupid dances. Might as well use it.

“Come on,” He held out his hand and she took it immediately.

They danced closer than Fez and Donna did.

Jackie felt the rush of being so close to him electrify her skin.

“You’re a really good dancer,” Jackie told him.

“Thanks, so are you. So why weren’t you dancing before?” He wanted to hear it from her, she’d nearly ignored Fez and Kelso but put up zero fight to dancing with him.

“The right person didn’t ask me.”

“And I’m the right person?”

She smiled up at him, and his breath caught. “

You just might be, Steven Hyde.”

She annoyed him, but she intrigued him more. She was bossy and bratty, but she’d won over Donna and maybe even Forman. There was just something about her he couldn’t help wanting to discover.

“You want to go out sometime?”

“Like on a date?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, on a date.”

“I would love that, Steven.” Jackie stood on her toes and kissed his cheek gently.

For some reason, he didn’t mind her calling him Steven. It was weird that he didn’t, but something told him he’d have to get used to that.

A few weeks later

“Red, Mrs. Forman, can I talk to you for a minute?

“No,” Red growled leaning over the engine of the car.

“Sure, Honey what is it?”

“I just wanted you to meet someone,” He waved her over from inside the house, “this is my girlfriend Jackie.”

They’d hung out in the basement a few times but they tended to go off by themselves to get to know each other without the hassle of the others.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jackie said nervously. She knew how important the Forman’s were to Steven.

“Steven,” Kitty jokingly scolded, “you didn’t tell us you had such a cute girlfriend.”

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll get a big head.”

“Steven, I already know I’m cute. And thank you, Mrs. Forman.”

“See,” Hyde reiterated.

“Yeah, well I need to fix this cute carburetor,” Red went back over to the cruiser.

“Do you need some help?” Jackie offered.

“I think I need to go get my camera,” Kitty said rushing off into the kitchen.

#that 70s show fanfic #that 70s show #jackie and steven fic #jackie and hyde fic #jackie and steven #jackie burkhart #jackieburkhart/stevenhyde #jackie x hyde #jackie x steven

[pyroclaststan]

CW: body horror, gore, graphic depictions of injuries, Nanosurge event

The two of you had been running and you made it so far—you were going to get away, you were going to make it, but then Syrah started screaming.

She hit the ground flailing, howling, peeling apart. It was like her skin was disappearing from her limbs, and she kept yelling, pieces of her mouth starting to disappear, too.

There are no words you could ever use to describe the noise of someone gargling on blood and bile and those things as they ate through her lungs and chest and throat.

To describe the sight of your lifelong best friend sloughing apart and disappearing before your very eyes as she tries to scream and call out, only to be unmade.

In her final throws she reached out for you.

It hurt.

Now it feels like burning, and stinging, and itching all at once.

You cannot look away as the horror settles into you, freezing you in place. You watch as your left leg peeled, layer by layer, and eaten like the many before you—like the many around you.

It hurts, but you cannot scream, you cannot sob: you saw how they got into your best friend’s mouth that way. It ended quicker for her than the others but you do not want an end at all.

You kick the remnants of your leg in futility, as if to shake them off with sheer willpower as they eat their way closer. It’s all you can do. The swarm on you is multiplying; you see them like a hive of ants, now beginning to eat away at your fingers.

No one will be coming for you.

There is a chorus of screams a few yards away.

“NO!” a bloodcurdling howl of a voice echoes out.

It is the wretched, horrible scream of someone desperate out there, and your head whips around for the source despite your situation. Someone is close enough that they might see you—you might live.

Further across the field three—no, a body, just two—of the Rangers are gathered. One of them is actually not a Ranger at all but that vigilante you’ve seen, Sidestep, who is standing over the writhing form of Marshal Charge, hands out.

In the fields around you, you see the swarms of those creatures coalesce and gather, all stopping mid air before moving towards Sidestep, floating up and over their head like a rippling ball of shimmering black water. A river Styx of souless little creatures.

Looking down you realise that your leg is no longer being flayed by the microscopic monsters, flesh and bone gone like it was never there; your hands shake as you desperately peel off your shirt to tie around the stump, hoping through your panic it stems the bleeding as your adrenaline fades. You’ve never done anything like this before—your hands are shaking awfully. Blood loss and possible shock making you run cold.

In the few minutes more that follow the pause of those things, as you clutch what’s left of you, you hear more screams and the sounds of heavy footsteps: everyone left is being evacuated and before you know it Charge himself is beside you, scooping you into his arms before sprinting along with the crowds of survivors as if he weren’t screaming earlier. You were just close enough that he saw you; you clench his shoulders with your tremoring hands, unable to stop the tears that pour down your sweating skin. You’ve never known death this closely. You don’t know if your fear or relief is greater.

Surrounding the two of you are the desperate, the pleading, the injured, but you cannot tear your eyes away from their target to see all of them. Your hearing is muffled by a ringing of tinnitus, even as Charge hands you over to another person before running back to save others struggling out there. As all the heroes get to work while they have this new advantage.

You can’t stop watching Sidestep.

They stand there, alone, hands held to the sky as if to hold a barrier around the writhing mass of murderers. You think of the class last week: the Titan Atlas holding up the heavens. You see the way their arms and legs shake, muscles sure to be straining, their heavy breaths under their super-suit. There is no dramatic lighting or music to highlight their effort, this dire situation is all too real. They’re too close to those swarms but they don’t budge an inch, a hand coming to their head as they let out a bellow of pain.

The man holding you is trying to flee with you, but you can’t stop twisting in his arms—you need to see this: you need to witness what Sidestep is doing, what Sidestep has done. Someone needs to remember that they are alone amongst those… demons.

Others are watching too, crying, and after some time when Sidestep’s knee buckles and their hands fall to brace themself the entire crowd flinches as one. The swarm wavers looking like they might escape and spread again, but Sidestep’s hand quickly rises back up and they fall back into their synchronised swim. The terror is palpable, the air is thick, the smells of the dead nauseating in the breeze, but you all cannot stop watching. Even the reporters are keeping a silent vigil, unable to believe any of this.

A hero is saving you.

Time passes and you’ve all huddled together, taking care of each other, locating family, slipping out silent prayers. A nurse who was among the survivors has helped you with your leg so far: medical should be arriving soon, you won’t be saving that leg. You might have lost too much blood, or you will. She’s just waiting for the shock to set it now, holding your hand so you’re not alone through it.

But you don’t care because out there so many have lost more than you. Others are still fighting so you all don’t lose more, even now. And one is stemming the tide.

Charge is behind Sidestep as they keep on despite being brought to their knees and struggling, posted like a sentry but gripping his own arm, and you can almost make out the look of abject horror on his face as he watches the swarm hovering before them; small flickers of static arcs when the hive moves or breaks synchronisation.

Medical has arrived and you are being carted off to a rescue vehicle while containment is still on the way, but you still don’t look away—you can’t look away. It has been hours and they are shaking and they are struggling but they are holding. You burn that sight into the back of your head before the ambulance doors close. Your hero.

Your dream always ends there: you were gone before they’d collapsed. Before it was over.

———

Today is the anniversary of that awful day; the persistent nightmare that haunts even your days through all the scars. It’s hard to go outside most days, hard to watch the news and catch a glimpse of that silver woman that scares you so much. It’s hard to do much of anything that isn’t sitting locked in your workspace, building, tinkering, or fixing. But this day is an exception to all those great fears.

You stop by the florist with the modded hand: she remembers the day as well as you, sometimes the two of you talk about it while you work on her hand. She’s bundling up Syrah’s yearly bouquet, handpicking each flower by some meanings you’ve never gotten around to learning about them, stopping only to help a haggard looking man she also seems to know well with a bundle of white chrysanthemums. You can smell the alcohol on him from here, but that’s none of your business: today is a hard day for more people than you and Maritsa.

She tells you to give her love to your old friend; she never goes herself, no matter how much time passes. She lost too much to that nightmare—a wife, two kids, some family.

Your eyes linger on one of the few white chrysanthemums that man left behind, scratching the scar tissue buildup on your finger’s skin weave, something telling you to pick one of those up, too. Her garden hardy mums cost a lot but you know anything she grows in her greenhouse is well worth the price.

Heading out with your newspaper bouquet in hand, you fall into step with the Los Diablos crowds, easily able to pick out who in the crowd is headed the same way as you. You can see it in their heavy steps and weighted shoulders and you wonder if you show it, too.

The memorial isn’t a plot of headstones—too many were lost for that—but instead a large stone and steel wall, covered from one end to another with names and birthdays of victims. Flowers, candles, teddy bears, liquor, and photos rest on the ground here every year, and every year the crowd and offerings grow smaller. Everyone eager to forget.

You take your place in front of Syrah’s name, fingers sliding quietly against the stone that’s too cold for having sat in Diablos’ heat as long as it has. To your right you see Desiderio placing his usual marigolds—also from Maritsa’s—against the stone, then falling into prayers as he always does. The flowers in your hands begin to feel too heavy so you set them down, quietly sit in prayer with Desi, and hold each other once the tears that always come arrive.

It’s a small, distant family you’ve made out of this place and the only other people who could understand your loss; no matter how much time passes between gatherings you all know you have each other. But you cannot stay all day, lost in the memories: you have one more important stop to make.

At the gates of your destination a man in a grey hoodie and a larger man in a blue one passes you, and once again you are hit by a wave of booze. Looking after them, you notice the back of the smaller, hunched over one: it’s that man again, being escorted by someone you hope is his friend. A few moments more and you draw in a deep breathe, gathering resolve before heading in.

So here you are at yet another memorial. Not the memorial to that scarred, barren earth you pointedly avoid looking at but the memorial to the hero you’d lost, gone after another even that shook the city to its core before they ended it. The hero this entire city lost. The dark headstone that’s all that’s left of Sidestep.

The black and teal hoodie you’ve worn in over the years always feel likes the only thing appropriate to wear as you sit here, sitting before the looming stone in your usual spot, staring at the bundle of white flowers and the half-full beer can beside it. Chrysanthemums bundled up with Maritsa’s trademark twine. A smaller bunch of white lilies next to it, from somewhere else. That man’s modded friend maybe; you know the signs like you know the smell of the dead. All too well.

You scratch the phantom itch crawling along the former calf and thigh of your modded leg, unable to chase away the ghost of a life past. Unable to turn back the clock. Unable to say thank you.

You set your flowers down next to that man’s, hoping that he found peace in his visit here like you do. Hoping that someone’s there to help him through that event and its scars, too. You really hope that was a friend.

The picture of your masked hero is peeling from all the rain and heat, the flowers and offerings dwindling as folks try to forget those terrible events, but you remain. Year after year.

Living is the only thanks you can give them.

#the mischief scribbles #MC: Kingsley Chrysanta #(I mean—technically) #FH:R #I’m not really going to tag Ortega since this person wasn’t aware that it was him #Nanosurge #a FH:R NPC #pre-Rebirth #Fallen Hero: Rebirth #NPC: Ifama #hmm… don’t care for this one tbh

[littlx-songbxrd]

Hmm I need to voice it.

I had a lot of ideas about how Thomas and Alastair meet. First I thought maybe Cordelia and Thomas meet first and Alastair keeps being in the castle. Another idea was that Cordelia goes to the Herondales and TMT go to the Carstairs without even knowing. And one more was that they somehow meet in the castle and Alastair makes Thomas promise to get his sister out of the kingdom safely. Thomas promises and they go to their separate ways until eventually, they meet again. (So of possibly they stated captive during the invasion and only later got away/ separated because DRAMA)

So now I had another idea again my mind is awful

Thomas meets Alastair and Cordelia in different tumes and SHE ESCAPES AND GOES TO THE HERONDALES AND HER BEST FRIEND LUCIE.

Let me explain. So what if they do meet (didn't think of Thomas meeting both Cordelia and Alastair before it came up later) then Thomas and co. go to the castle and meet Alastair. Alastair would be so relieved to hear about Cordelia. Meanwhile, Cordelia makes her trip to another kingdom, the Herondale's to ask for help. They kept some connection although the Carstairs kingdom's ties to other kingdoms went loose during Elias's reign. But they stayed connected to the Herondales and Lucie is there. So she goes there to prepare to restore her kingdom.

It's all those small details and they drive me crazy when I notice them

It can work in so many different way and all we need to do is choose

Choosing is hard as hell

Ok ok ok so the first option sounds great

spectacular even

But I like drama, oh styx I am convinsed the reason I am still alive is cause I live to inniciate fictional drama

So you know my little mentally ill brain is choosing the second option because THE DRAMA

JUST

CORDELIA AND SONA BEING ABLE TO MAKE IT OUT BUT ALASTIAR STAYS?

THINKING TMT ARE THE ENEMIES

look as I already mentioned in my reblog and @marzzinaa ALREADY MENTIONED IN THEIR WONDERFUL REBLOG

The drama of it is magnificent

I choose option 2 baskcdbhacgasigc

[buoyantsaturn]

Bring On The Monsters (8/8)

chapter title: The Prophecy Comes True

word count: 4,520

read on ao3

The Doors of Orpheus let them out into the middle of Central Park, and from there, Will did his best to lead the di Angelos to the Empire State Building. In his defense, he’d only ever been in the city once, and Argus had driven him and the rest of camp there in a camp van. 

When they got to the door, Bianca set a hand on Will’s shoulder to stop him from walking inside. She held the Lotus card out to him.

“You should go back to camp,” Bianca said. “We don’t know how Zeus is going to react, and we don’t need him getting angry at you and your dad when he’s only mad at ours right now. Trust me, Will, it’ll be safer for you this way.” 

Will took the card, looking dejected, though he nodded in acceptance. He kept his gaze on the ground as he said, “You’ll wanna go to the 600th floor. Ask the doorman for the key. He’s gonna be a real jerk, but don’t let that stop you. And…” He lifted his eyes and met Nico’s. “Find me when you get back to camp, okay? I’ll be...in the infirmary, probably, but maybe the pavilion, depending on what time it is, and if it’s after dark then I’ll be in my cabin, but--” 

Nico jumped forward and pulled Will into a hug. “Be careful.” 

Will hugged him back. “You too.” 

Will pulled away and glanced at Bianca, holding his arms out awkwardly. She punched him in the arm. “If you manage to get yourself killed between here and camp after the week we just had, I’ll find you in the Underworld and kill you again myself.”

Will nodded. “Noted.” He pushed forward for a hug that lasted no more than a second, and then he ran toward the street to hail a cab. 

With one hand, Bianca tightly gripped the strap of her backpack, and reached down to grasp Nico’s hand in the other. “C’mon, Nico, let’s pay our uncle a visit.”

Will had been right about the doorman giving them a hard time, but after Bianca threatened him with her knife, he handed over the keys and pointed them toward the elevator. After what seemed like half an hour, the doors finally opened, not into a building, but out onto a stone path that wove between lush green hills. 

Every building on Olympus was white. White and bright with little bits of silver decorating everything that reflected the sun straight into Nico’s eyes. He wished he was back in the Underworld, and he’d barely even stepped foot in Olympus at that point. 

They followed the path to the palace, which was almost an exact replica of the one in the Underworld, only - of course - white and silver instead of black and gold. Nico hated it already. At least they had a good idea of where the throne room would be once they got inside. 

Zeus was much more unnerving than their father, having chosen to appear as a larger being while Hades had opted for a regular human height. Zeus towered over them and glared with so much force that Nico thought would kill them in an instant if he had his bolt. And Hera’s presence at his side was nowhere near as comforting as Persephone’s had been. 

“Hello, um,” Bianca started awkwardly, and then fell to her knees and bowed her head. She tugged Nico down beside her. “Uncle Zeus. We came to deliver your Master Bolt.” 

“Admitting guilt?” Zeus asked with a raised brow. 

“No, sir,” Bianca answered swiftly, and started removing her backpack. “We were set up. Ares gave us this bag during our quest, and it must have been...enchanted, somehow, so that the Bolt appeared after a certain amount of time.”

Zeus watched them for a second before replying, “Are you telling me that my own son stole my symbol of power? You do realize that it’s impossible for another god to do so.” 

“No, sir,” Bianca said again. “He was working with someone else.” 

“Who?”

Bianca hesitated, so Nico answered, “We don’t know.”

“Our dad had a guess,” Bianca told him, “but he wouldn’t tell us what it was. He said it was impossible, and that he couldn’t believe it was true.” 

“And something about things stirring,” Nico said, though he wasn’t sure why he chose to bring that up specifically. 

Something about it must have struck Zeus, though, because his eyes widened and he leaned back on his throne. He whispered something to his wife, whose expression turned to one of shock and fear, which definitely wasn’t making Nico feel any better. 

“Give me the Bolt,” Zeus said, holding out a hand. Bianca took the cylinder out of her bag and approached the throne, setting the Bolt in Zeus’s hand. “I shall let you both live, for now. Return to camp, mention nothing of this stirring to anyone.”

Was that supposed to be their dismissal? 

Bianca seemed to think so, because she returned to Nico’s side, barely stopping to grab her back with one hand and Nico’s arm with the other as she left the throne room. “Not even a thank you,” she muttered as soon as they were out of the palace. 

They marched back in the direction of the elevator, though this time Nico caught himself watching the scenery as they went. There were nymphs and minor gods wandering about, and someone that looked an awful lot like… “Will?” Nico said before tripping over his next step. 

“What?” Bianca asked. “Did you say you saw Will? He followed us up here after I told him not to?” She sounded angry, and was scanning the horizon in the same direction Nico was looking. 

The Will look-alike appeared to notice them, and said goodbye to whoever he had been talking to. He jogged toward the demigods with a sunshiney grin, and it didn’t take Nico long to realize that this definitely wasn’t Will. For one, his hair wasn’t quite as golden, and he lacked Will’s freckles. And he was a good foot and a half taller than Will. 

“Hey, di Angelos, right?” the man - probably a god, Nico’s brain supplied - greeted. “My son’s been praying non-stop for the last hour that I stop Dad from smiting you two, though I don’t know how he expected me to do that. But anyway, you made it out alive! That’s great!”

“Your...son?” Nico asked, feeling his face heating up at the attention the god was showing to him. That, and the fact that his chiton showed much more skin than it was probably supposed to. 

“Will!” he said, his face somehow lighting up even more at the name. “I’m Apollo, you know, god of the sun? And poetry, and healing, and blah blah, all that. Hey, thanks for keeping my baby safe out there on his first quest. Well, he’s not my baby, but you know what I mean. My youngest. Well, my youngest at camp. Anyway, he’s going to be really happy to see that you both made it back to camp safely. And trust me, I’m also the god of prophecy. I know.” 

“I don’t suppose you know how we’re getting back to camp,” Bianca said. “I gave Will the rest of our money, because I didn’t know for sure that we would be leaving. So now we’re sort of stuck here.” 

Apollo thought about it for a second, tapping his chin with one index finger. Then, he reached behind himself and brought out a single gold coin. “This should be enough for a cab.” 

“Cabs take mortal money,” Nico pointed out. “Not drachmas.” 

Apollo grinned. “So don’t take a mortal cab!”

Nico was not a fan of the Gray Sisters. He almost puked in the back of their cab more than once in the ten minute drive - which was supposed to be closer to an hour. Nico and Bianca stumbled over Half Blood Hill, still struggling to regain their bearings. Once he could finally see camp, Nico’s eyes started scanning for Will. 

He ran at full speed toward the infirmary. 

Nico burst through the door, his eyes wild and searching. There were blond sons of Apollo inside, all looking at him with startled expressions, but none of them were Will. Finally, Lee grinned and said, “Hey, Nico, he’s--” 

“Nico?” Will’s voice came from across the infirmary, and he practically flew out of the storage room. In a second, Nico was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of Will’s hug. “You’re okay! I was so worried, I kept praying, and you’re okay!” 

“I’m okay,” Nico said with a giddy laugh, closing his arms around Will and tucking his face into his friend’s shoulder. 

Suddenly, Will pulled back, just a few inches. “Wait, and Bianca?” 

Nico nodded. “She’s okay.” 

Will hugged him again. 

After a few moments, Lee approached them and ruffled Will’s curls. “Alright, Will, let the boy breathe.” Will released Nico reluctantly and took a step back, but he took Nico’s hand instead. Lee turned to Nico and set a hand on his shoulder. “Glad to see you again, Nico! Any injuries I should know about before we go talk to Chiron?”

Nico squeezed Will’s hand, then shook his head. 

“Alright, then let’s go get Bianca, and we’ll have Chiron call a head counselor meeting,” Lee said, then turned to Will and winked. “You’re in charge until I get back.” 

The counselor meeting was just as uncomfortable as the first, if not more. It was clear that the other counselors still weren’t very fond of the di Angelos, but they were interested to hear about the quest - especially when Nico slipped up and mentioned the stirring again. There was a short debate over who Ares might have been working with, though Chiron had seemed thoroughly uneased, and ended the meeting early, insisting that Nico and Bianca needed rest. They were shuffled into their room in the Big House and left alone.

It made Nico feel trapped. 

When they got to their room, though, Nico spotted gifts on each of their beds - wrapped, but in a way that showed exactly what was underneath. He figured it was probably difficult to wrap a sword without making it look like a sword. 

There was a note left beside the sword that Nico couldn’t decipher, so he handed it off to Bianca to read for him. 

Dear Nico,

I understand that your visit has left you unarmed, so I had your sword fished out of the Styx. The river has wiped away the curse placed upon it, and has transformed the blade from Celestial Bronze to Stygian Iron. This new blade is equally effective against monsters, though it has other properties that I would be happy to teach you of in person. The offer to visit again still stands, and I can ensure that you will receive the best training Elysium has to offer.

I hope to see you again soon.

Your Father

Bianca received a similar note, alongside a new knife and a bow. The blade of her knife, the heads of her new set of arrows, and the blade of Nico’s sword were all made from the same black material. Almost like obsidian, though it didn’t reflect light, and it was freezing cold to the touch. 

Nico couldn’t wait to try it out. 

He and Bianca had sword practice in the arena with the Hephaestus cabin about a week later. Just about everyone from cabin nine wanted to get a closer look at Nico’s sword, though he didn’t want to let anyone touch it until he learned about those other properties that Hades had mentioned. He wasn’t going to be responsible for… For sucking out somebody’s soul, or something. 

When Beckendorf asked, though, Nico found he couldn’t outright deny him. He had made the sword, after all, even if it had been changed since then. Beside, Beckendorf was actually Nico’s friend, unlike most of the Hephaestus cabin. Sure, everyone had started warming up to Nico and Bianca by then, but Beckendorf had been there from the beginning. Sort of. 

He was no Will, is what Nico was trying to say. 

So, when Beckendorf asked to try out Nico’s sword, Nico had refused. And when Beckendorf came back with, “How about later, during free time? We can go out into the woods, so no one has to know.” And Nico figured, as long as nobody could see that he was playing favorites, then it was probably okay. 

Which was how Nico found himself sneaking off with his sword just after dinner, making his way into the woods in the direction of Zeus’s fist. Beckendorf was already in the woods waiting for him, a few cans of Coke on the ground next to the rock he was sitting on. He smiled when he saw Nico. 

“Hey, man, I was starting to think you’d ditched me,” Beckendorf joked. He reached down for one of the cans. “You want a Coke?” 

“Bianca says I shouldn’t have sugar,” Nico told him. 

Beckendorf tossed him the can. “She doesn’t have to know.” He cracked open his own can, and nodded to the scabbard at Nico’s hip. “So, you gonna let me see that thing, or what?” 

Nico pulled the sword out of its sheath and stepped closer to Beckendorf to hand it over. The son of Hephaestus stood, then nodded toward the rock he’d been sitting on for Nico to use as he started to move away. 

“It’s really well-made,” Beckendorf said, testing the weight in his hand and eyeing the blade to make sure the lines were all straight.

“You made it,” Nico reminded him, and Beckendorf shot him a confused look. “It’s the same sword I left camp with. My dad, uh-- Apparently, if you dip a sword in the Styx, it comes out like...that.” 

Beckendorf took a few practice swings into open air, then came back to Nico. He handed the sword back, and reached around Nico for his own scabbard, on the ground behind the rock. “Why would he dip it in the Styx?” he asked, moving away again. “Did he say?” 

Nico hesitated. The sword had been cursed, but Nico didn’t know when that could’ve happened, since it never left his side after he left camp. Which meant it must have been cursed before he left… Surely not all curses were bad, if it had been cursed at camp. “He said it was...cursed.” 

Beckendorf nodded, like he wasn’t surprised, then gripped the hilt of his own sword. “Well, not all curses are bad, you know. I just made a new sword for myself, complete with a few curses of its own. Wanna see?” He didn’t even give Nico a chance to nod before he pulled it from the sheath. 

The sword was easily a foot longer than Nico’s, and it reflected the sun almost blindingly compared to Nico’s. The blade was split down the middle, one half Celestial Bronze, and the other half something closer to silver.

“It’s really difficult to forge these two metals together,” Beckendorf was saying. “It took quite a few curses just to keep this thing from busting apart with a single hit, but it’s definitely worth it.”

“What is it?” Nico asked.

Beckendorf grinned. “I call it Backbiter. Half Celestial Bronze, half steel.”

Nico flinched. “Steel? But we’re not supposed to--” 

“And whose rule is that?” Beckendorf cut in. “Chiron’s? Do you really think he knows what’s best for us?”

Nico ducked his head and shrugged, flicking at the pop top on the can without opening it. 

Beckendorf kneeled down in front of Nico, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Nico, the gods make all sorts of rules for us to pretend that they care, when really, they’re just trying to keep us in line. They don’t realize that, together, we’re way more powerful than them. You’re going to be the most powerful demigod in the world someday, kid, and the gods are just going to keep piling on more rules to keep you from taking them down. Why should you have to reign it in when they never do?” 

Nico frowned, and said the first words that came to mind. “My dad cares about me.” 

Beckendorf gave him a sympathetic smile. “He doesn’t.” 

“He does,” Nico shouted, shoving Beckendorf’s hand away. “He told me himself, and he wants me to come back to the Underworld!” 

“So he can trap you there,” Beckendorf said, rising to his feet to tower over the younger demigod. “He knows how powerful you could become.” He held out a hand to Nico, though his other hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. “Look, Nico. I’m leaving camp, and I want you to come with me. I can help you train. We can find every other demigod before they make it to camp, and we can build up an army against the gods.” 

“Why would I want to fight against the gods?” Nico asked, eyes flickering between Beckendorf’s face and his sword. “The gods help. It’s the monsters that we have to fight!” 

Beckendorf raised his sword to Nico’s chin. “I thought you trusted me, Nico. I came to you because I thought we were friends! Are you really going to make me kill you? What do you think will happen to Bianca? Will she join me when I tell her that your dad sent another hellhound to take you out? Or will I have to kill her, too?” 

Nico’s sword was in his hand without him realizing that he’d even picked it up. “Don’t touch my sister!” he screamed, and lunged blindly. Beckendorf parried his strike easily, and Backbiter sliced through Nico’s skin, just beneath his ribs. Beckendorf yanked the sword back, tugging Nico forward with it and knocking him off balance. Nico dropped to his knees.

“It didn’t have to come to this, Nico,” Beckendorf said as Nico clutched at the wound in his stomach. “Hopefully Bianca won’t choose to fight.” 

Then he was gone.

Nico didn’t hear him walk away (probably due to the pounding of blood in his ears) and he couldn’t see any sign of Beckendorf around him (though there were black stops in the corners of his eyes that were moving inward). The only thing that Nico found around him was his sword. With one hand still holding pressure on his stomach, Nico reached for his sword, then used it somewhat like a crutch as he pulled himself toward the nearest shadow. He would never make it back into central camp on his own two feet, and he still didn’t know how the whole teleportation thing worked, but he had to try. 

Hades had said something about shadows, so that’s where Nico went. And instead of crawling onto solid ground, he slipped through the earth, reappearing in the shadow of the Apollo cabin. 

And he passed out.

Nico’s stomach hurt. Not like he’d eaten something he shouldn’t have, but like he’d pulled a muscle. Or a lot of muscles. Or like someone else had tried to pull his muscles out of his body.

He opened his eyes. He was in the infirmary, and there was a familiar head of blond hair resting on the cot at Nico’s side. Will’s hand was gripping Nico’s hand tightly in his own, despite how heavily he was sleeping. 

“Charlie…” Nico whispered, suddenly remembering what had happened. He tugged on Will’s hand, but the other boy didn’t move. “Will-- Bianca!” 

The curtain around his bed shifted, and one of Will’s brother’s poked his head in. Michael, Nico thought after a second. He was one of the only children of Apollo that didn’t have their father’s golden hair. He didn’t smile much, either, and those two facts had always caused Nico to have a hard time believing that he and Will could be related, let alone brothers. 

Michael crossed to Nico, setting a hand on his shoulder with a stern, “Don’t move. Will put a lot of work into keeping you alive, and he won’t be happy if you mess that up.” He glanced down at his younger brother with the beginnings of a fond smile. “He healed you all by himself. And knocked himself right out.” 

“Where’s Bianca?” Nico demanded. “Beckendorf, he--”

“She’s okay,” Michael cut in. “She wouldn’t leave your side when you suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and Chiron just took her to grab some lunch. They’ll be right back.” 

“And Beckendorf?” Nico asked.

Michael frowned. “What about him? I haven’t seen him since dinner last night.” 

“He stabbed me,” Nico said, feeling his body starting to shake at the memory. “He said he was going to kill me, and that he was gonna kill Bia next. He’s-- He’s running away to build an army!” 

Michael’s eyes widened. “Woah, dude, uh. Maybe you should wait for Chiron to come back before you start talking about stuff like that.” 

“Betrayed by a friend,” Nico mumbled to himself. “The prophecy...it wasn’t over yet.” 

Nico and Bianca were kept under close surveillance for the rest of the summer, and Beckendorf never showed his face again. Nico wasn’t sure how many people had heard the truth, but it seemed like there was something of a divide at camp. There were the people who were on Nico’s side - the Apollo cabin, a bunch of Will’s friends, and a few who had befriended Bianca at some point or another - and the people who were in some way loyal to Beckendorf. Nico wondered how many of those people were going to disappear, and end up as part of Beckendorf’s “army.” 

By the end of the summer, Nico felt more welcomed at camp than he ever had before. He had friends, more than just Will, and he didn’t feel like so much of an outsider. He was happy, and he was excited to stay at camp, until one day in August when Will sat him down by the lake and announced that he was going home to Texas for the school year. 

“I’ve been at camp year-round for the last two years,” Will told him. “I miss my mama, and my grandparents. We all agreed that I would be safer here, but after going on that quest… I think I’ll be able to keep myself safe out in the real world, too.” 

Nico felt ice in the scar on his stomach. “But… Charlie.” 

Will’s expression dropped. “I know. But Nico, you have to know that I would never go with him after what he did to you.” 

“But he could hurt you.”

Will shook his head. “I won’t let him get close enough. I’m fast, I can outrun him no problem. Besides, once you figure out your teleporting thing, you can come check up on me.” Will bumped Nico with his shoulder. “I know you’ll keep me safe.” 

“I don’t...know how it works,” Nico told him.

“You’ll figure it out! While I’m with my mama, you can go visit your dad, and he can teach you all sorts of stuff,” Will said. “And when you come back to camp, you can sneak onto the computer in the Big House and email me about all the cool stuff you’ve done!” 

Nico pouted down at the grass. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“I’ll show you,” Will promised.

“And…” Nico hesitated. “Beckendorf, he said… He said that my dad doesn’t really want me to visit. He said that Hades is just going to lock me up so I can never get powerful enough to fight back against him.” 

Will’s expression darkened at the mention of Beckendorf, and he sighed in frustration. “Well, he wasn’t there, and I was. I saw how much your dad wants you to visit him, and how much he wanted to help you learn stuff. I wish my dad would tell me stuff like that, but I’ve never even met him.” 

“I have,” Nico said.

“What?” Will asked. “When?” 

“On Olympus. He said you were praying that Zeus wouldn’t kill us,” Nico told him. “He thanked us for keeping you safe on the quest, and he gave us money to get back to camp. He… You look a lot like him. He called you his baby.” 

Will’s nose scrunched up. “That’s...embarrassing. He really said that?”

Nico nodded. “You know, if you go away for school, then you might not be the youngest when you come back.” 

Will’s eyes widened. “What? Did he tell you that? Do I have more siblings?” 

“He said you were his youngest at camp,” Nico replied. “He… He didn’t say anything, but he implied it.” 

“Woah,” Will said, glancing out toward the lake. Then, he shoved at Nico’s arm. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to leave! You think I’ll stick around just for the chance that I get a new sibling.”

“Well...won’t you?” 

Will laughed. “And then what am I supposed to do all winter when you’re in the Underworld with your dad?”

“Who says I’m gonna do that?” 

“You’d be stupid not to.” 

Nico shoved him. “Maybe you’re stupid for going to school.” 

“I’m definitely gonna be if I don’t.” He grinned at Nico, poking him in the stomach near the place where he’d been stabbed. “Now that I know I’m such an awesome healer, I’ve decided that I’m gonna be a doctor someday, so I have to go to school.”

Nico grabbed Will’s hand to stop the poking. “Promise me you’ll be careful? And Iris Message me if Beckendorf shows up. I don’t care if I don’t know how the shadow travel stuff works yet. I’ll figure it out, and I’ll come get you.” 

Will squeezed his hand. “Maybe you can come visit for Christmas. Don’t let me leave camp without giving you my email address, okay? And my home address. And my mama’s phone number!” 

The end of summer came a week later. Some of the campers wouldn’t be leaving for a few more days, but Will was set to leave right after breakfast. He’d given Nico about six different ways to contact him during the school year, and he’d sneaked Nico into the Apollo cabin to help him pack the day before. 

At breakfast, Chiron enlisted the dryads to hand out clay beads to every one of the campers. The beads were small, but Nico could make out the design of a white angel on the black surface. The di Angelos, Chiron had announced, the angels. 

Nico and Bianca helped each other with their necklaces, and after breakfast, Nico gave Will one last hug before he was shuffled off toward the van that would take him and a few other campers to the airport. 

Nico sat on the top of Half Blood Hill in the shade of Percy’s willow tree and watched the van drive away. Then he stayed a little while longer, until finally pulling himself to his feet and heading back to the Big House to pack a bag. 

He was going to see his dad.

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee | send me other canon scenes to rewrite

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #mine #my writing #bring on the monsters

[callonpeevesie]

Things that bother me about Percabeth

Warning: this is going to be long and I'm not even sure if this will make sense. Also don't read this if you aren't open to criticizms of Percabeth.

Percabeth is a good ship, or at least has potential as one, but it has many legit flaws (this and this go into the flaws. By the way, go check out @takaraphoenix's Riordan crit) and I have some personal grievances. I'll write this out to understand my stance better because I need to get this off my chest.

I believe most people wouldn't agree with me on all this, but this post is entirely self-indulgent and I'm doing this for catharsis, so don't come at me. This isn't an objective analysis, just me trying to clear my thoughts. But feel free to share your opinions if you want.

Evolution in PJO

This is a pretty general point. I love the evolution of their dynamic in pjo. Their bickering, them opening up to each other and becoming so important to each other, the slow and steady buildup, it's great. Heck, I love slow burn. They have some good moments in pjo: Annabeth opening up to Percy on the zoo express, the scene with the sirens, Percy doing everything he did to save Annabeth in ttc, their conversation after Annabeth took the knife for Percy in tlo. (The underwater kiss is not one of my favourite moments, I'll come to that later.)

The romantic evolution, though, I'm not sure. I enjoyed it in ttc, there were small subtle hints like Aphrodite's scarf, or Aphrodite looking like Annabeth to Percy. But it became kind of tiring in botl onwards. Annabeth was extremely possessive and awful to Rachel. And in tlo things became a bit over-the-top.

I think Rick tried to establish them as the Most Important Person to each other. I don't like that. This is more apparent in HoO. I'll come to hoo later, but there is one instance of this in tlo: Percy seeing Annabeth in the Styx. Like one of the posts I've linked above says, it's shippy nonsense. It comes from the idea that one's romantic partner must be the most important. It doesn't make sense. I think Percy should have seen his mother in the Styx. It would make sense for Sally to be Percy's anchor, considering how much she means to him.

In short, their enemies-to-friends evolution was great, their friends-to-lovers evolution started out fine but became too much for me, and their friends-to-Most-Important-Person-to-each-other evolution was unnecessary and forced.

Luke

Luke and Annabeth's romantic subplot didn't need to exist. This isn't exactly Percabeth, but I'll say it here anyway. First of all, there's a seven year age gap, so Luke returning Annabeth's feelings is creepy. And it seems pretty unnecessary to me. It's also a bit of a mess. In tlt Annabeth blushes when Luke is around, and Luke says 'She's like my little sister.' In tlo Luke asks Annabeth if she loved him, and she says 'You were like a brother to me.' This part feels like Rick trying to add last-moment tension to Percabeth by making Luke a potential 'rival' to Percy. In the Staff of Hermes Percy says Annabeth had a crush on Luke, and as she got older, Luke had a crush on her too. Just ... Why?

They and Thalia were each other's first friends. Annabeth looked up to Luke and Luke was fond of Annabeth. That is enough reason for Annabeth to be hurt and for Luke to care about Annabeth. That is enough to set up their post-betrayal dynamic. The romance thing was completely unnecessary.

Rachel

I absolutely hate the way Annabeth treated Rachel. If there is one thing I despise about romantic subplots, it's justifying bitchiness with romantic jealousy. I guess it's okay to feel a little jealous or even possessive, and I can kind of see where Annabeth was coming from, but treating someone like shit because of that, especially in the middle of dangerous quests, is not okay. It's petty and immature. (It could be argued that Annabeth was mad because Rachel got to lead her quest, but let's be honest, she wouldn't have been that mad if it were anyone else. She specifically treated Rachel like that out of jealousy.) It was never called out and Annabeth never seemed to regret it. This bothers me so much. Fanfiction is a good coping mechanism, I suppose, but I'm here to complain about canon, not cope with it.

Speaking of Rachel, Perachel could have been a good ship. A demigod looking for a normal life and a mortal with clear sight. This elaborates on that pretty well. At the end of tlo it really felt like Rick had to get Rachel out of the way to make way for Percabeth.

Annabeth seems to be too demanding

Annabeth's attitude towards Percy bothers me sometimes. She's a good character and has a strong dynamic with Percy, but she's a bit tiring with regards to Percy (in a romantic sense; she's fine as his friend). I mean look at this quote from tlo:

I can't pretend I hadn't thought about Rachel. She was so much easier to be around than ... Well, than some other girls I knew. I didn't have to work hard, or watch what I said, or wrack my brain trying to figure out what she was thinking.

Percy feeling that way about Annabeth - his best friend of four years - just doesn't sit well with me. Percy straight up admits he's more comfortable with Rachel than with Annabeth.

There's more: Annabeth punching Percy when he asked who he should dance with in ttc, the way she treated Rachel, the way she behaved towards Percy regarding Rachel in botl, judo flipping him in moa. It's pretty tiring in general. Now that I think of it, this wasn't a thing before the romance showed up. Their dynamic was better in the earlier books in general.

Also personally I'm not a fan of Annabeth constantly calling Percy Seaweed Brain. This and this nicely sum up how I feel about that. Annabeth making fun of Percy's intelligence even after getting to know him makes no sense, especially as he was insecure about his intelligence. (And yes, I know she thought he was intelligent, as she said in the Demigod Files, but that doesn't cancel out the million times she called him stupid to his face.)

They became too couple coded

I've seen people say that Percabeth is better as friends than as lovers, and honestly I agree, and I've done some thinking to figure out why. I think it's because of the way they were written after they became a couple. They could have been fine as a couple, if they were written differently.

They started out not being able to stand each other, then gradually, they went through a lot together, got to know each other, learned to work together, and became a team. That was a great evolution, like I said before.

And like I also said before, everything I dislike about Percabeth showed up with the romance. Annabeth became catty and possessive. They became a couple. And it was as if the friendship wasn't there anymore, just the romance. They became like a cliche unreasonable girlfriend and clueless boyfriend. This is especially obvious in the beginning of Percy Jackson and the Staff of Hermes. Where's the friendship? Where's the comfortable bantering? Where's the known-each-other-for-years soundness? Hoo Percabeth just doesn't live up to pjo Percabeth at all.

(Also this is a personal bias of mine, but I'm partially romance repulsed. I can't stand cheesy romantic coded stuff. I only like lovers if they're also friends. So I guess I'm kind of pissed about Percabeth becoming so couple coded after becoming a couple.)

Their HoO dynamic

This is a related point. Like I said, hoo Percabeth doesn't live up to pjo Percabeth. All they care about is each other. They literally don't think about anyone else at all. Percy loses his memory and he remembers Annabeth. Why? Does Hera ship Percabeth? If he remembered anyone, it should have been his mom, like in the Styx. The only reason Percy remembered Annabeth, i.e Annabeth was made out to be more important to Percy than everyone else (including Grover and Tyson and Sally 'best person in the world' Jackson) is that she was his romantic partner. Again, it's shippy nonsense.

And there's this reveal that Annabeth had a crush on Percy all along. Are you kidding me? It completely retcons the enemies-to-friends development. Are you telling me that the Percabeth evolution in pjo where they learned not to hate each other was a lie? That Annabeth gradually opening up to Percy and coming to appreciate him was her acting out of a crush? I'm not believing that, no way.

I'm probably not making any sense, but my point is that Percabeth in hoo in cheesy and can't go one day without each other and people love it but I don't. It kind of messes up their previous dynamic, which is a shame because I liked pre-hoo Percabeth.

Rick seems to go overboard sometimes

I'm about to get a little controversial here. Many of the Percabeth posts in those tumblr screenshots going around social media are about the campers shipping Percabeth, or Arachne making Percabeth fanart, things like that. My theory is that part of the reason Percabeth is so popular is that the characters ship it. And Rick kind of goes overboard with that - not just with the in-universe shipping, with the ship itself.

Prime examples of going overboard are Percy seeing Annabeth in the Styx and remembering Annabeth when Hera took his memory, which imply that Annabeth was objectively the Most Important Person to Percy. I've already ranted about these above so moving on to the part about the in-universe shipping. Like I said, I'm not a fan of the underwater kiss. It's because of the situation involved. The campers just won a war and lost their friends and siblings, Clarisse just lost Silena, you'd think they'd have other things to care about than Percy and Annabeth kissing, at least for one day. And why did Arachne make fanart of that? How did she even know? There was also the matter of moving to New Rome - them wanting to move halfway across country to live together, away from New York, doesn't really make sense to me. This post elaborates on that and suggests better alternatives.

Of course, the author has complete control over the narrative, and the author wants you to believe they are making sense. And when the characters believe that too, it becomes harder for readers not to. When all the campers ship Percabeth, it's enough to convince half the readers to ship it too. (And of course, the pjo fandom has an unhealthy thing with canon ships.)

It's pretty much kept up by the fans

While we're at it, let's talk about the out-of-universe shipping. The fandom has always shipped Percabeth, partly just because they are the male lead and female lead of a series. Percabeth was set up to happen, so when Rick introduced Rachel, who actually made Percy feel good about himself and let him be himself around her, and whom Percy was interested in, he had to get her out of the way. I'm not sure I can explain it, but the Percabeth ending in the first series feels very fan service-y to me.

Platonic Percabeth vs romantic Percabeth

I think everything I've said above just explains why Percabeth worked better as friends. The had a great friendship arc and became two friends who know each other inside out, butt heads a lot but love and respect each other deeply. And then when the romance happened, Annabeth began to show these romanticized but actually toxic girlfriend stereotypes - being jealous and possessive, expecting Percy to read her mind and getting pissed when he can't, etc.

The fandom thinks those traits are okay, because they are normalised in society. People think that's how couples should work (it's not). And so the reasons I don't like Percabeth are the same reasons many people do. The date in the beginning of Staff of Hermes makes me cringe, because they were friends first and friends don't work like that. But no doubt there are many people who find it cute because society loves to romanticise the unreasonable girlfriend and clueless boyfriend trope. There are plenty of people who romanticise Annabeth judo flipping Percy or treating Rachel like shit, because things like that are normalised but I personally can't stomach them at all.

Anyway, those toxic traits come with the Percabeth romance as a package deal and there's no getting rid of them. That's why Percy and Annabeth worked better as friends, and why I feel things would be better if they just stayed friends. There was none of that tiring crap pre-romance. I can't stress this enough, I really loved their friendship in tlt or som. But when their dynamic evolved to romance, it messed up their friendship. There was a specific moment in botl when Percabeth began to feel off for me.

'She will calm down,' Chiron promised. 'She's jealous, my boy.'

'That's stupid. She's not... it's not like...'

Chiron chuckled. 'It hardly matters. Annabeth is very territorial about her friends, in case you haven't noticed. ...'

I don't know why this moment specifically, but this kind of marked a change for me. This is where Percabeth became seriously romantic, and I didn't like the related developments. This was the beginning of Annabeth's jealousy.

So what would I prefer?

I'll be honest, I shipped Percabeth for a while, probably because I love some friends-to-lovers. So I was going to make a list of things I'd change about Percabeth. I wanted to make some self-indulgent UAs (universe alterations) to fix the things I don't like. But then I started writing this thing and read up on other posts and stuff and I realised the list of things that bother me is huge and I could never make Percabeth work for me without messing everything up. So I just gave up shipping it entirely.

What I would prefer is an AU where Percabeth stays platonic forever (@elf-loving-dragon has been encouraging that idea as well). They were great as friends and I want that back. It would be so refreshing to have the male lead and female lead not end up together. Annabeth could end up alone, and still get her something permanent with her friends and camp. It would be so beautiful if something completely romance-free was specifically stated as permanent, because friendships in media deserve as much love as romance.

As for Percy, he could end up either alone or with Rachel. I don't ship him with anyone else rn. While I have made it obvious that I like Perachel, I still don't know if I actually ship it, and the idea of Percy ending up alone is not too bad either. (Update: I stan platonic Percabeth and qpp Perachel now.)

I promise I'm done now. Whew. If you've made it to the end of this long repetitive introspection, congratulations. If you agree, feel free to tell me, and if you want to argue, go ahead, I wouldn't mind listening to others' opinions. If you read this and hate me because of this just keep that to yourself. I have no patience for people who attack those who don't agree with their ship. K thanks, bye.

#pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #tagging as #anti percabeth #so shippers can avoid this #percy jackson #platonic Percabeth ftw #rr critical #perachel #sally jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #peevesie writes #original content #annabeth bashing