#* they were demigod/reapers

[manias-wordcount]

Hi, I hope you are well.

Could I request a PlatonicBlack Butler x Demigod reader, please? (Sebastian, Ciel, Grell,Undertaker) You can pick anyone else if you want to. Thank you

Demigod Reader HCs (Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel Phantomive, Grelle Sutcliff, Undertaker)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Sebastian Michaelis

Sebastian thinks you’re “cute” in a way

Really, he thinks it’s adorable how you assume you’re more powerful than you actually are

In truth, you’re not really anything to worry about for a demon

And in general, you’re not anything to sneeze at 

Maybe you’re a bit stronger than the average person your size

Maybe you’re a bit faster than the average person your size

Maybe you’re this, maybe you’re that but in all actuality?

You’re just some kid to Sebastian

Of course, he doesn’t try to mess with you too much

He wouldn’t want to call upon the wrath of someone who actually is a threat like your godly parent

Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel thinks you’re an enigma- just a little

In a world of angels and demons, being a demigod isn’t all too special

You’re not fully divine

And you’re not fully human

You’re far from the most powerful being he’s ever met

(Though you haven’t seemed to realize that)

But your existence does make him question things more

How does a god have a child with a human? What is the extent of your powers?

For those reasons, Ciel probably keeps you around

After all, studying your existence isn’t completely uninteresting

Grelle Sutcliff

Grell does not give a shit LMAOOO

Seriously

Like what is a Grim Reaper supposed to do with some random ass demigod

Naturally, she was a little interesting upon first meeting you

You don’t run into one that often after all

But upon meeting you, the interest fades completely

So what you’re a little bit more special than the average human?

It still doesn’t make you that special

So try not to take it to heart when she never seems particularly interesting in talking to you or what you’re doing

You really can’t blame her- especially when you’re hanging around far more powerful characters like Sebastian and such

Undertaker

He’s fond of you

Somewhat

Chances are, you’re not a wet blanket like Ciel so he enjoys it when he can get a good laugh with you

And he doesn’t get to see many demigods

Plus the last few ones he saw were already dead so it’s nice to talk to one that’s alive

That being said, you’re not anything crazy special

So he doesn’t quite care much about beyond the fact that you have some connection to his world rather than just being a random human being

That being said, he is excited for the moment he gets to have you fitted for a coffin

He knows it’s a long time coming considering you’re a little harder to kill than the average human

But he’s excited either way

[utmvarchive]

Reapertale: a summary.

As stated before, some AUs seem to run in different formats. "Reapertale" is another such AU, but rather than running as a soap opera, this Tale seems to play out like Greek mythos, positioning monsters as gods.

Toriel, goddess of life and warmth, gave breath to the earthly realm and sprouted humankind... but they were not yet mortals, and as they continued to propagate, so did conflict among them, and the balance of the earth tilted. His majesty Asgore, god of the sky from which he and the other first gods were born, and to which they would return if ever they passed on, turned to Gerson, god of wisdom, for answers. And Gerson, in turn, commissioned Gaster, god of the arcane, to conjure a counterbalance. Together, they used the power of darkness to invent the gods of death– Sans and Papyrus. Their conception deeply offended her majesty Toriel, and she secluded herself on the earth to swear off any further creation.

Though life would continue, sterility and stagnation would break out in the goddess' absence, and humanity's faith in the gods would falter. This brought on the loss of the god of hope– Asriel– as he was reaching to save Chara, a devoted acolyte, from tragedy. He was too late, and when his stardust fell into a pool of their blood, he would be reborn as an emissary of despair... again as a golden flower.

As it would happen, Chara would be the reapers' first job; but the gods of death were still newly-formed, and the dark magic used to conjure them still leaked from their forms and their scythes. Thus, only a moment's hesitation was enough for Sans' essence to corrupt Chara's SOUL, which was already embittered by the betrayal of mortal and immortal alike. They would escape, adopting the role of a demon in the following centuries.

In his effort to find Chara, Sans instead found Toriel's hidden sanctuary. The two were confrontational at first, but soon it became clear that Sans liked finding somewhere that allowed him reprieve from his thankless job, being the brother in charge of collecting the SOULs of the damned and the restless. In secret, they grew close...

...and then, claiming a role as harbinger of entropy, Chara too found Toriel. Though a god, they struck her down using a scythe stolen from Sans, igniting an Era of Corruption– an outbreak of strife, stagnation and stillbirth.

Undyne, goddess of war, was next to find what was left of the fallen god's hideaway, and confronted Sans before she could see could see that he too was grieving. Papyrus managed to intervene and calm Sans, stopping the spread of his necrotic influence, redirecting Undyne's attention to seek guidance from the father gods.

Of the first gods, Asgore was still in mourning, Gerson had gone quiet, and Gaster had gone to consult an all-seeing mirror. The mirror could show him everything– past present and future– but Chara had found it first, clouding its vision to lure him closer. They trapped him in it, and they shattered the mirror, scattering him and all memories of him with its shards.

In an effort to buy more time to rediscover life, the goddess of knowledge... Alphys... would be tasked with finding alternatives for creation. Her... first attempt involved the willing sacrifice of other gods, but these efforts would be in vain. The second attempt involved making a new vessel for a prematurely disembodied SOUL, and so... Mettaton would be created as a golem, embodying self-love.

What remained of the slain goddess was eventually detected by the opposing reapers at the same time, but Sans was thankfully faster than Chara and took her SOUL into hiding within his and Papyrus' own realm. He procured a stained-glass flower she'd once made for him after his touch withered the live white lily she previously tried to hand him, and he sacrificed the gift to bring her back with the essence of hers it had preserved. Thus, her restoration was secured.

But it would not be until the emergence of Frisk, demigod of mercy, that Chara would be cured of corruption and instead represent faith, and the balance of their world would finally stabilize.

...Seeing that mirror for myself would make my job so much easier if it were still intact...

[kirby-souljourney-au]

Morpho Knight!!! :D

Yay Mori!!!!!!!! It Marophim!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lesgo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fun fact: this form is actually a disguise. Mortal species aren’t meant to see Goddesses in their entirety, so Mori was told to disguise themself as something fitting. They chose to be a Butterfly, which are very common in Gamble Galaxy, for when they’re around others; when they’re alone, or only with Astrals or other Reapers, they look like this!

Their true form is far more Draconic. Big, bony wings, horns, clawed feet, and the like.

Trans bug info and hex codes under the cut! Trans bug trans bug

(Remember, ArtShield desaturates images put through it, so if you’re going to draw them, reference the listed hex codes!)

Full name: Marophim

Aliases: Morpho Knight, ‘Mori’

Species: Draconic Demigod

Planet of Origination: Concept Universe

Age: 20,890,968

Height: 7’0”

Gender: Biologically female; identifies as non-binary

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Sexuality: Queer, asexual

S/O: Empress (joyfriend), Mirror-World Ione/Dark Meta Knight (boyfriend), Mirror-World Galacta/Mirogala (partner)

Family: Yacho’o (mother), Yway (sister), Yakii (sister), Ophanim (sister)

One of Yacho’o’s children, tasked with reaping lost souls.

In a romantic polycule with Empress and the Mirror-World versions of Ione and Galacta, otherwise known as Dark and Mirogala (or Miro). Does not currently plan on having children with any of them.

Child of a Goddess, though not reaching Ykka levels of power, they were born and raised to be among the most powerful Grim Reapers in the Multiverse. They’ve been reaping souls for most of their life, starting at 200 years old.

A kind and usually quiet person. They’re incredibly hyper-empathetic, and capable of sensing a person’s emotions due to countless years of exposure to Souls. As such, they’re very good at comforting others, and are one of the most understanding people on Popstar, without exaggeration.

Has lived in many places across their long lifetime, but has settled in a few places; most recently, they decided to live in Dreamland to help in training and protecting the planet’s guardian, Kirby. They’re not meant to interact with the living very often, because of their status as both a Demigod and Grim Reaper, so they don’t have many friends, but they make do with what they have, and they’re grateful.

Their weapon of choice is the Doomblade Ares, forged by their mother Yacho’o specifically for the purpose of reaping Souls. They also use their natural Fire magic on occasion, but not very commonly.

Hex codes

Both:

#171717 — Hair base

#1A1A1A — Skin

#3A3735 — Scars

#FFB062 — Wings fade / Loincloth fade

#FB7332 — Hair fade / Antennae / Inner ears

#D42214 — Wings base / Loincloth base

#FFE2D5 — Pupils

#FFFFFF — Eye whites / Freckles

Casual:

#3A2B23 — String 1

#A00909 — String 2

#FF591D — Kimono 1 (pattern using same colour with Morpho Glitter brush, brush blend mode Add, twice on same layer with alpha lock)

#FF8B41 — Kimono 2

#FFB97D — Kimono 3 (pattern using same colour with Victorian brush, layer blend mode Colour Burn)

#FFE1C8 — Kimono 4 (undershirt??????? Idk)

Armoured:

#000000 — Helmet accents

#4E0303 — Dress

#DF6024 — Armour accents

#E57D35 — Armour 4

#EFAC4D — Hand guards

#EEA870 — Armour 3

#EEC894 — Armour 2

#CDC8C6 — Armour 1

Wings:

#D42214 — Base

#FFB062 — Fade (effect using same colour with Clouds brush, layer blend mode Add, layer opacity 75%)

[alchemicaladarna]

I saw a lot of people making headcanons about a Percy Jackson crossover after watching the "Lost" animatic, so I thought I could contribute some of my headcanons! :D

I LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH I SPENT AN HOUR RESEARCHING ABOUT THE GODS AND THE EGGS' PERSONALITIES SO I CAN BE ACCURATE WITH ASSIGNING THEM A GODLY PARENT LMAO

Tldr for anyone that wants the short version of this post;

Leo: Aphrodite

Chayanne: Zeus

Richarlyson: Athena or Hermes

Dapper: Hecate or Hades/Pluto

Pomme: Demeter but she's a Hunter of Artemis

Ramon: Hephaestus

Tallulah: Apollo

Trumpet: Hermes (or unclaimed demigod)

Bobby: Ares

Tilin: a lot of options tbh (see explation) (or unclaimed demigod)

Juanaflippa: Dionysus

Leo: Aphrodite because she loves flowers and looking beautiful. Like. My girl cannot handle sleeping in a reinforced room because the reinforced blocks are ugly😭💀

Chayanne: feels like an Ares because of his connection with Techno and his warrior spirit, however, I do think he's more responsible/acts like a big brother to a lot of his siblings and sort of has a leader-like role, so I headcanon Chayanne as a child of Zeus.

Richas: kinda feels like Athena's child because she is known as the goddess of crafts as well as knowledge, and he has a talent for art and an affinity for enigmas like his dad Cellbit, but he is often very mischievous and chaotic, so I feel like he fits in with Hermes, rahter than Athena.

Dapper: a Hades/Pluto child in my opinion because of his connection to death; he's also very knowledgeable, but I'm kinda struggling to think of a god of knowledge that is different from Athena. To be fair, he did pick the Death entity in Cellbit's paranormal room, so I think Hades fits him more than a knowledge-aligned god. He can also be a child of Hecate because of his connections with the paranormal, mysticism, and necromancy/grim reaper stuff.

Pomme: She is definitely Demeter's daughter because of her affinity with nature, but if you're familiar with Greek mythology, you might remember that she can be fierce and very vengeful. She can also fit with Persephone because of this tbh. Also, although she is a daughter of Demeter, I think she would be a Hunter of Artemis, so you can incorporate her warrior side without her being necessarily affiliated with Ares.

Ramon: 100% a Hephaestus child, but can also be considered Hypnos' kid because of how much he likes to sleep, especially during the early days.

Tallulah: definitely gives off Apollo vibes, but she hangs out with the children of Demeter so often because of her love of nature and flowers, that people mistake her as a child of Demeter rather than Apollo.

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

The deaceased eggs are interesting because some of them died before they had a chance to truly develop their personalities to assign them to a specific godly parent, but I tried my best!

Trumpet: I didn't get to know him, unfortunately, but from what people say, he was very mischievous and liked to place bombs to prank people, so he could be a child of Hermes. (also, something sad to consider is how, at least in the first pjo series, kids who were unclaimed by their godly parents, ended up in the Hermes cabin- so, if we want to be super sad, we can say that Trumpet was never claimed by his godly parent D':)

Bobby: He looooved fighting and dungeons very much, and be was one of the most aggressive eggs (except when it came to Jaiden lmao), so I can't see Bobby having any parent other than Ares tbh.

Tilin: ngl I don't know too much about Tilin, but from what I've gathered from Jaiden's early streams was that they had a strong fighting spirit like Bobby; but, according to the wiki, they were very compassionate and empathetic as well, and towards the end of their life, they became kind of depressed because they felt neglected by Quackity and they never met their other dad, Luzu. They're actually kind of similiar to Tallulah in a way, but in the pjo universe, they kinda remind me of Bianca Di Angelo as well. They could either be a child of Hades/Pluto, Ares, Hermes, or even Nemesis or Eris, the goddess of chaos. Orrrr we could also go the sad route and say they were never actually claimed by their godly parent, and thus, they were kind of taken care of by everybody, just like in the server.

Juanflippa: Another egg I don't know much about except that Juanflippa was a very chaotic egg, but she was very kind and had a positive attitude, despite her situation often being very unfortunate. She kinda fits in the Hermes cabin, but I think she is a child of Dionysus because, according to the myths, Dionysus was a patron god for transgender or non-binary people. He was also a patron god of madness and chaos, and that's always the energy of Slimecicle's streams tbh. (Fun fact: even though Dionysus is commonly referred to with as a male entity, he rejected binaries and embraced a bigender identity, much to the dismay of the ancient Greeks) Anyways, got a little sidetracked with the lore, but I think Juanaflippa is a child of Dionysus because of her chaotic nature, and also for fun!

[anonymousewrites]

A Good Day for Death (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Wednesday Addams x Reaper! Reader

Chapter Eight: A Good Day for Ruins

Summary: (Y/N) eats fudge, kicks ass, and picks locks. Wednesday investigates, finds the ruins of the original Meeting House, and has a shark attack.

            “Damn, they made me take off my jewelry,” said (Y/N), sighing as they tried to tie the apron around their waist. “Apparently it didn’t match the ‘pilgrim’ aesthetic.”

            “I doubt Joseph Crackstone would approve of skull earrings and bone rings,” said Wednesday. “Too outcast-like.” She finished tying her bonnet and eyed (Y/N)’s attempt that ended in loose, messy bow. Arlene would definitely have problems with it. “That looks terrible.”

            (Y/N) huffed. “Hey, you had Thing help you.”

            Wednesday rolled her eyes and walked over, batting (Y/N)’s hands away. They stood face-to-face, quite close as Wednesday worked on (Y/N)'s bonnet. She expertly tied the bow—the loops even looked like nooses. “We need to look the part so we can avoid notice from Arlene.”

            “Let me guess, we’re sneaking to the meeting house?” asked (Y/N).

            She nodded. “We need information.” She walked to the door of the changing room and put her hand on the handle. “Until then, we sell fudge to gullible tourists.” Wednesday opened the door and headed out.

            “Why do I think this is gonna be less selling and more terrorizing?” murmured (Y/N).

            Sure enough, as soon as some German tourists arrived inside the store, Wednesday didn’t waste any time talking to them. In German. (Y/N) had a sneaking suspicion whatever she was saying was different from what Arlene would want for sales.

            “Enjoy your ‘authentic’ pilgrim fudge made with cacao beans procured by the oppressed indigenous people of the Amazon,” said Wednesday in German. “All proceeds go to uphold this pathetic whitewashing of American history. Also, fudge wasn’t invented for another 258 years.” She held out the fudge plate and smile deviously. In English, she said, “Any takers?”

            The tourists glanced at each other nervously. “No, no, no.” They filtered out the door without a look back.

            “What did you say?” asked (Y/N), leaning towards Wednesday as they popped a sample into their mouth.

            “The truth,” said Wednesday. “They just couldn’t…stomach it.” She arched an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, how have you eaten that much?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I’m a demigod. I’ve got a tough stomach.”

            “Ugh,” groaned Eugene from out back. He had been eating a ton of fudge and was now growing quite sick of it.

            “I don’t think Eugene has the same metal, though,” said (Y/N). A gasp rang out, and they looked at Wednesday in alarm. Looking out the side window, they saw Jericho boys pulling Eugene around the corner. “Wednesday. Eugene was just kidnapped by pilgrims.”

            “Let me guess. Three boys?” asked Wednesday, heading towards the backdoor.

            “Yeah. Do you know them?” questioned (Y/N).

            “I’ve dealt with them before,” she said, narrowing her eyes as they stepped behind the building to where the three Jericho boys were opening a stockade to push Eugene in.

            That backfired as Eugene, not having the stomach for so much fudge, threw up on one of the boys. It angered them more as they tried to shove him into the stockade.

            Wednesday approached, and in a cool tone, she said, “Howdy, pilgrims.” She stopped the stockade from falling with a single hand. “Let him go.”

            “You want to end up in the stocks, too?” hissed one of the boys.

            “Remember what happened the last time we did this dance?” questioned Wednesday threateningly.

            The boy threw Eugene to his friends and approached Wednesday. He grabbed at her, and she swept his feet out from under his feet with practiced ease. He tried to stand and take a swing at her, but (Y/N) intervened and kicked him backward. Wednesday grabbed him and slammed him into the stockade. She closed it on him before he could try anything else.

            Wednesday glanced at the other two Jericho boys. “Are you two still here?”

            “I can’t get into more trouble with my dad,” muttered Lucas, Mayor Walker’s son. He turned away with his friend and left the last boy in the stockade shouting at them to come back.

            “Come on, Eugene. Let’s get you cleaned up,” said (Y/N), smiling gently. They sat Eugene down and undid their bonnet. Pouring water on it, they cleaned up his face.

            “No one’s ever stood up for me before,” said Eugene.

            “You said Hummers stick together,” said Wednesday.

            “I know this might come as a shock, but I don’t have any friends,” admitted Eugene.

            “You remind of my brother,” admitted Wednesday in an unusual show of saying something personal. “Sans the desire to strangle him every waking moment.”

            “And no one should be pushed around like that,” said (Y/N). “They’re just jerks. Don’t listen to anything they say.”

            “Now,” said Wednesday sharply. “We have a meeting house to break into. We need to find out more about Joseph Crackstone.” She turned and walked around the side of the meeting house.

            (Y/N) stood. “Come on, Eugene. You heard the girl.” They followed Wednesday.

            She extended her hand to Eugene without looking. “Give me your retainer.”

            “What? Why? Your teeth are really good,” said Eugene.

            “Don’t worry, let me get this,” said (Y/N). They pulled a hairpin hidden in their hair. They crouched by the lock and carefully slid the pin in. (Y/N) fiddled for a moment, listening carefully, before the lock clicked open. “Tada!”

            Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “You can pick locks,” she remarked.

            “My mom is a mortician. She taught me how to be very precise with my hands from a young age. I practiced on locks,” said (Y/N), shrugging as if it was normal.

            “Can you do anything else useful?” questioned Wednesday as she pushed the door open.

            “I know how to sew and do stitches pretty well,” said (Y/N).

            “A useful skill as we may suffer injuries during our investigation,” remarked Wednesday.

            “I’ll make sure I have a needle and thread with me then!” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “Um, guys,” interjected Eugene. “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if Miss Arlene catches you?”

            “Hive code, deny everything,” said Wednesday.

            “That’s not hive code!” said Eugene. “What’s the big deal anyway?”

            “Keep watch,” ordered Wednesday, closing the door behind herself and (Y/N).

            “This is like a shrine to pilgrims. Weird,” muttered (Y/N), peering around the meeting house. Cases with tableware, shelves of books, racks of farm tools, and even a wax figure of Joseph Crackstone stood around the room.

            “Hopefully useful,” said Wednesday, investigating the many items.

            “Hey, Wednesday,” called (Y/N), peering at a painting. “This girl, she kind of looks like you.” They didn’t understand how or the significance of it, but they knew Wednesday would appreciate any clue. And so would they, after all, since they were involved with the whole fight-against-Crackstone-prophecy thing. “Except for, you know, the white hair.”

            Wednesday leaned in, and her eyes widened. “I saw her in my vision.”

            “At Crackstone’s Crypt? That can’t be a coincidence.” (Y/N) wished Wednesday would explain what she saw in her visions, but they dared not press since Wednesday might reject their tentative friendship, and (Y/N)…Well, they liked Wednesday. They didn’t want to lose that.

            “She held the same book,” said Wednesday. She looked to the other side of the room. “That one.” She quickly opened the case and picked it up.

            “Codex Umbrarum?” asked (Y/N), frowning. “ ‘Shadowy Book?’ ”

            “It’s Latin for ‘Book of Shadows,’ ” translated Wednesday. She opened it and nearly huffed in annoyance. “Great,” she snapped. “It’s a fake.”

            “But there must be a real one somewhere,” pointed out (Y/N). “Museums often put replacements of artifacts on display if they’re cleaning exhibits or something.”

            The door banged open, and Arlene, dragging Eugene by the collar, stormed in. “Just what the fudge are you two doing in here?!” she demanded.

            “Hey, Miss Arlene,” said (Y/N) sheepishly.

            “Why, Mistress Arlene, how now?” Wednesday smirked.

            “How now, indeed,” sneered Arlene. “I proclaimed this meeting house is under repair. I know thoust heard me.”

            “I told her the door was unlocked and you guys were dying to know more about Crackstone!” said Eugene quickly as he saw Wednesday leveling a dark look at him.

            “Oh, yeah, stoked, and this case was already open,” said (Y/N) hurriedly, smiling cheerfully.

            “That book’s a replica,” said Arlene.

            “You don’t say,” said Wednesday.

            “The original was stolen last month during the two o’clock witch trial,” said Arlene.

            That can’t be a coincidence, thought (Y/N).

            “It was probably the only authentic thing you have in here, yet you still charge $29.95 a ticket?” challenged Wednesday.

            Arlene crossed her arms defensively. “Hold thy tongue. I’m reassigning you all. To fudge-churning duty.”

            Wednesday ignored her remarks. “The original meeting house in the painting—the one in that painting—where is it?”

            Arlene sighed, and her stiff pilgrim façade melted away into her true personality. “How the hell should I know? I only moved here from Scottsdale in April.” She straightened again and went back into her performance. “Come now, young Nevermore kin. I shall show thou to thous assignment.” She turned and walked out the door.

            Wednesday looked at (Y/N). “We’re leaving when we have the next opportunity for escape.”

            “Sounds good to me. I like eating fudge, but making it seems annoying,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “And whatever you have planned is sure to be more fun.”

l

            Back in their Nevermore uniforms, (Y/N) and Wednesday walked into the Weathervane. Wednesday had pointed out that Tyler, as someone who grew up in Jericho, would have an idea of where the original meeting house was, plus he was willing to talk to her.

            Seeing them, Xavier said, “I thought you were supposed to be at Pilgrim World.”

            “I deserted it while my sanity was still intact,” said Wednesday.

            “Oh, yeah?” Xavier glanced between her and (Y/N). He furrowed his brow. He had been trying his best to get Wednesday attention, so it irritated him that (Y/N) seemed to get it so easily and be allowed to hang around her with no issues. “Um, want a coffee? It’s one of the many perks of this wonderful assignment.”

            “Actually, we’re here for Tyler,” said Wednesday with her usual honesty.

            “He’s bad news,” said Xavier, much less friendly.

            “Who I speak to is my business,” said Wednesday.

            (Y/N) cleared their throat uncomfortably as Xavier bit his cheek in annoyance. It was painfully obvious he was jealous, and although they didn’t realize he was also envious of them, they were aware of how awkward the situation had become. (Y/N) hesitantly rang the bell to call for service so that Tyler came out from the back, but they wanted to leave to avoid any more issues.

            Tyler arrived and glanced between everyone and registering the tension in the air. “Uh, you rang?” he said, looking at Wednesday hopefully in case she had done so. Xavier scoffed and turned away. Tyler suppressed a small smirk as “winning” against Xavier (really, the boys were being ridiculous). “So, want to usual, Wednesday?” He looked at (Y/N). “And I can get you something, too.”

            I know Wednesday’s cooler than me, but seriously? thought (Y/N), sighing inwardly. “No, I’m good. I ate a lot of fudge already.”

            “We need some help,” said Wednesday. She nodded to (Y/N). “Open the map.” (Y/N) unfolded the map of town they had grabbed from the brochures at the Weathervane. “You know the original pilgrim meeting house, the one from the 1600s? Do you know if it’s still around?”

            “What’s left is out in Cobham Woods, but it’s pretty much a ruin,” said Tyler.

            “Where exactly?” asked (Y/N).

            Tyler pointed to the map. “There, but, look, it’s pretty sketchy. Squatters and meth heads use that place as a crash pad. My dad has it cleared out every couple weeks. What’s this about?”

            Wednesday regarded him distrustfully. “Nothing.”

            Tyler smiled in realization. “You’re becoming obsessed with this monster in the woods thing.”

            “What else is there to obsess over in Jericho and Nevermore?” asked (Y/N), shrugging.

            Wednesday looked at (Y/N). “Let’s go.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N).

            “Hey, listen, the ruins are kind of hard to find,” said Tyler. “I could take you this afternoon. My shift ends at two o’clock.” He was trying to create an opportunity to spend more time with Wednesday, and it wasn’t a terrible tactic since she had accepted his offer to escape Jericho just a few days ago.

            This time, though, he had no luck. “Principal Weems would hang, drawn, and quarter me if I miss the big statue dedication,” said Wednesday. “As enticing as that experience sounds, I’d prefer to keep a low profile. Besides, I know my way around the great outdoors.”

            “Don’t tell me you were a Girl Scout,” said Tyler in an attempt to tease.

            “Actually, she hibernated with grizzlies,” remarked (Y/N).

            Tyler blinked at the comment as (Y/N) and Wednesday left the room to investigate the pilgrim’s true meeting house.

l

            (Y/N) and Wednesday walked through Cobham Woods until they came upon the skeletal remains of the old meeting house. Spindly bits of wood stood in the vague shape of walls and a house with various holes.

            “You know, this has ‘horror movie’ written all over it.” (Y/N) wrinkled their nose. “Something definitely happened here all those centuries ago. I can just…feel it.”

            “You are the Child of Thanatos,” remarked Wednesday. “It’s possible you can feel remnants of death.”

            “Good point. This is why you’re the brains of the operation,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            Wednesday smirked. “I’m Frankenstein, and you’re Igor.”

            “I’d like to think I’m prettier than that,” remarked (Y/N) as they entered the ruins.

            “Who goes there?!” cried an old man, jumping up from a cobblestone fireplace. “Aha! Children!”

            (Y/N) backed away while Wednesday stepped forward. “Use the word ‘child’ to describe me again, and I can’t guarantee your safety.”

            “This is my place! Get out!” cried the man.

            Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “Thing, a hand here?”

            From her backpack, Thing ran out across the ground and up the man’s leg. The man tried to fight against the hand but was knocked to the ground. He scrambled up and made a run for it as Wednesday resumed her examination of the old meeting house.

            “There’s nothing here,” huffed Wednesday.

            “Well, we can hardly expect artifacts to be still here at that point,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Thing tapped against the ground. Wednesday shook her head. “No, I can’t just touch something. My visions seem to happen spontaneously.” Thing tapped again, and Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “I would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice.”

            “Thing has a point, though,” remarked (Y/N). “You should try to see if something will trigger a vision.”

            Wednesday slapped a hand against a pillar. “Nothing.” She walked to another wall, and (Y/N) trailed behind her in case a vision grabbed Wednesday and she fell. Again, she touched the wood. “Nothing. My visions are about as predictable as shark attacks.” Wednesday touched the door to leave.

            Her head snapped back, and she was thrown headlong into a vision. As she collapsed, (Y/N) caught her before laying her down carefully.

            They looked at Thing. “There’s our shark attack.”

Taglist:

@strawberriesareprettycool

@im-making-an-effort

@champagnewitnocham

@simpcreator

@ksunoosworld

@dot-and-co

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@itsyapeepkiri

@daza1s-w1fe

@tired-writing-reader

@mary-jinx

@ognenniyvolk

@under-kitty

@colezb

@simp4natasha

@emily-roberts

@left-and-right-up-and-down

@star583

@rainbow-love4ever

[johncarrera]

Thinking about how any egg death would be devasting in so many ways. Like yeah, it would be very sad for both the audience and the islanders but also like... It could very much start a goddamn war?

If Leonarda dies, you just angered two incredibly powerful demigods, one of which is literally feared by the rest of the island for terrorizing em with mines. Imagine what Vegetta would do if his daughter died? Not only that, Foolish can genuinely be a threat if he wants to. We're seeing how far he's willing to go for the "funsies'' and to rescue a capybara. What if it was a quest to avenge his family.

Then you consider all of the eggs with single parents. Philza, Fit and BadBoyHalo. The Angel of Death, a Veteran Mercenary who survived a wasteland with no rules and the Grim Reaper himself. We've seen how far they go when their eggs are threatened.

We've seen how BBH, one of the best PVPers and richest players, reacted to Dapper losing a life to a code attack. We've seen how Philza reacted to the codes mimicking his children. Fit has gotten so attached to Ramon that he deviated and got distracted from his original plan, his original mission on the island.

Not only are these people super dangerous, they're also extremely attached to their eggs thanks to carrying the burden of parenthood by themselves. They'd go insane if something happened to them.

And then, you get to the polycules.

Etoiles, the crazy pvp monster who more than anything wishes for a good fight. The man who 2v1d the codes. The one who wasn't sure he'd get into the whole egg thing but now cares so much for Pomme.

Baghera, Pomme's mother. The one who got attached to her the fastest. Genuinely super underestimated, she's hella smart and observant and had a whole ass wall with notes about the island.

Aypierre, who I don't know that much off but I wouldn't want to fight the man who made a Gegg factory and completely invaded and destroyed the federation's base because he wanted a picture.

And do I really need to talk about the brazillians? These people break the Federation's rules every single day. They are rich, smart, powerful and so fucking determined. Mad scientists, escaped convicts, the leader of Ordo Theoritas and his right-hand man, the creator of project NINHO. These people would go to hell and back for their friends. And boy, do they care about the eggs. Cellbit and Forever were almost crying when Bobby died. Mike still feels guilt from letting Richarlyson lose his first life.

If Richas dies for real? The server will explode the very next day.

And that goes for every egg.

If ElQuackity ends up killing one of the eggs as retaliation? His ass is dead the second anyone spots him.

But not only that. Thanks to his affiliation with the Federation? That could mean all-out war.

[rainbowchaox]

Ok so I have this silly headcanon that when someone gets turned into a demigod (as opposed to being born as one) they get assigned to a certain God, as they don't have one already, and that's what reapers are- turned demigods who were assigned to miss Death.

When Missa got turned and there was still being paperwork done to choose who he'd be assigned to Phil did all in his power to make sure Missa would end up with Miss Death alongside him<3

OOOOOOOOOOOOH thats sounds adorable. I have this idea that reapers are like humans that died and got hand picked by the goddess of death to get made into reapers. And Lowkey Missa is her favorite reaper. It’s why she supports her husband being gay with him.

[magnorious]

Review: ‘We Find Out The Truth, Sort Of’, Percy Jackson Episode 7

TL;DR the flashbacks were the best part of this episode and because they exist, precious minutes serving actual plot were eaten by missed potential. Also someone kidnapped Hades and replaced him with a caricature imposter.

This show is quickly becoming not even enjoyable enough to make fun of, but with two episodes to go, might as well see it through to the end.

Episode 6 left off with some wild Hollywood-y changes to the source material, the biggest being that the summer solstice deadline has already passed and the gods are at war, because tension? Everyone knows the world isn’t going to end, everyone knew it wouldn’t end in the book either — the stakes came from whether or not Percy would be able to prove his innocence and recover his mom. We knew somehow that things would work out, the question was what the cost would be if he failed.

Giving Percy the 4th pearl and making him already fail by the powers that be was an interesting decision. It robs the tension from the rest of the plot if there’s no clock ticking down anymore. Hades, Ares, every single hurdle they face burns more time and forces Percy to risk flying on a plane to reach New York before the deadline... all for Zeus to not give a damn anyway.

But did this interesting choice make for a better or more entertaining story?

—

I’m shocked they kept Crusty’s Waterbeds given how much plot they have left to shove in this story. And, of course, Percy already knows exactly who he is. They finally got a character to look like they did in the book and (for Supernatural fans, it’s the same actor as Death) it’s pretty well done for the costume and makeup department. But all of that is moot once again when the script gives away all the answers.

Percy has no time for Crusty because the plot has no time for Crusty. They try to give him some thematic relevance but they’re sprinting to the finish line now, and they can’t even let Percy kill him, going out of their way to make Annabeth tell him to be happy he gets to keep his head.

Side note- the pearls look like tiny Ferrero Rocher chocolates.

Oh and DOA Studios doesn’t exist, because there’s no time for that but there is certainly time for flashbacks. If I had to pick between Crusty and Charon, I would have preferred Charon 100%, he’s actually a decent guy — but not this version of him. He does actually appear, looking more like a grim reaper than an underpaid middle manager bereft of his Italian suits.

The flashback itself is wonderful, I wish the rest of the show was so nicely written. The second flashback they don’t have time for is also great. I like seeing more of Sally and their struggles growing up, her tireless search for ways to protect her demigod son. This is the kind of filler that helps tell the story, unfortunately it’s at the expense of the existing story this episode, eating up minutes. The *third* flashback eating up minutes is also good, this just isn’t the time for any of these. They should have all been in the St. Louis episode. I hate how good these are, because it shows how good the writing could have been. Baby Percy still runs circles around the older kids’ line deliveries. The **fourth** flashback is well-acted but baffling, more on that later!

The Underworld is grey. Painfully grey. Another reason I wish this show had been animated was full creative freedom to go all out with the design and the colors and the scale. This is just boring- grey and hazy to hide how boring it is. The Underworld is an entire kingdom, it’s a realm, terrifyingly beautiful. There’s black poplar trees and all the different rivers and Elysium and the Isles of the Blessed and Persephone’s garden. The ghosts actually look like ghosts. The kids in this version don’t actually look intimidated by the magnificence of the place. There’s no time to be intimidated.

Cerberus is fine. Annabeth’s waterland ball is swapped in for Grover’s stress ball. But he remained a Rottweiler. What’s not fine is the plot handing Percy 4 pearls only to randomly rescind one by making Grover lose his to recreate the tension they murdered. Percy doesn’t hesitate to give his to Grover and there’s no time for them to have any kind of dramatic argument over who should actually stay behind.

Asphodel is a forest, not a field, i.e. the Fields of Asphodel. The concept is cool, actually. These souls stuck there for so long they’re growing roots into the very fabric of the Underworld. So kudos there, that’s genuinely creepy. The rest of Asphodel is a desert, still not a field, and bright as daylight for some reason when it should be permanent night down there unless you’re in Elysium.

Buuut then said roots tangle up Annabeth and make them leave her behind. Percy doesn’t even try to cut her free and she just takes a pearl to the surface, to be ejected from the plot for now. What regret did she have? Doesn’t matter, no time.

Percy is still too smart for his own good and the plot still hates any mystery whatsoever, so he finds the Master Bolt immediately after the brush with the Pit. The Pit also has no voice of Kronos to make it extra creepy, because there’s No Time For That. The entire point of the Chekov’s gun that was those shoes is tossed aside.

The Underworld continues to be painfully grey and beige. Hades isn’t grey, though, oh no. Hades isn’t Hades either. I kept waiting for the reveal that he’s just one of Hades’ Furies in disguise or even a lesser spirit he orders around to screw with people. I waited, and kept waiting. The dude who played Hades in the movie was more accurate.

They still do argue. Percy still accuses Hades of meddling. They argue in front of a random living room instead of a godly Underworld throne. Maybe that wasn’t in the budget. I’m still waiting for Hades to drop this ridiculous act and toss this puppet aside. He starts offering sanctuary when book Hades desperately wanted absolutely nothing to do with whatever was brewing between Zeus and Poseidon, claiming now he needs another god’s weapon to defend himself and I don’t think signature weapons are so easily transferable. Percy and Grover get the heck out of dodge shortly after.

Then Poseidon shows up in the fourth flashback and, well, Percy does have his hair (but not his random British accent). No Hawaiian shirt and khakis in sight. This exists to make Poseidon and Sally’s love for their son more tangible, but in the first book he’s a dick. He’s not seen on the page until Percy meets him on Olympus and the god is a huge disappointment to him. Poseidon begins narrating like this is the season finale, Ares shows up, and cut to black.

The entire book we’re left in limbo on where Poseidon stands, if he’s going to be as spiteful and selfish as Zeus or Dionysus. That reveal on Olympus meant something. But at this point I’m tired of arguing why scenes matter when the show couldn’t care less.

At this point making book comparisons doesn’t matter anymore because this just isn’t Percy Jackson anymore. The characters have their names, sure, but that’s about all the due diligence that’s paid to the source material. I watched this with someone who hadn’t seen a single episode before nor read the books and even they commented that it’s horribly rushed. Even without Percy Jackson’s name on the marketing, they’ve been questing to the Underworld for the entire season and *this* is what we get for it?

Here’s to hoping the entire budget for fight scenes went to the finale so Percy can kick Ares’ ass.

[mc-rupige]

I really wish for the cc to sit down and discuss the death system world building: y'know gods of death,helpers of the death and system heaven/hell (the nether has been called "hell" but by the finds of cellbit/forever/badboyhalo/baghera at the end of the train tracks i don't think it's canonically used as the after death hell)

Multiple characters seem to be linked to death somehow separately and while it's fun to see them explore their own things i prefer 1 unitary system instead of 4 messy ones (or at least canonically explain how the systems coexist)

Like

Cellbit has referred to his own game lore of demons and links to death

Kristin was established as a goddess of death in dsmp so it's very probable that is present here also here (but idk how much dsmp lore Phil has transferred in q!phil)

Badboyhalo Is canonically a grim reaper part time and he has taken/accompanied the eggs ' souls

Rubius is angel/demon ( that links back to both cellbit (demonology) and bbh( bad hasn't confirmed his species but he is often refered as a demon)

I add Missa also but i haven't watched much of him directly but i read a few posts so i add them to this list even if i am not 100% sure what is canon or headcanons ( if someone can confirm it would be cool or want to add please do ) missa is also a grim reaper... ? Or at least he is a skeleton..?

Also maybe foolish? He was a death/life god/demigod in dsmp i am not 100% sure on that or if want to continue that bit

i am not talking about the qsmp island lore cause i know they don't know much about it (federation/binary code lore/ nether portals at the end to the trains) i am talking about pure what system the people trapped in the island are/were used before the island

[hermitcraft-au-time]

I have this old monster au I might as well mention here. The basic premise was that the hermitcraft server was an island where the hermits could hide from human society

Grian was a vampire

Mumbo was a demon

Iskall was a werewolf

Scar was a mermaid

Cub was a Fae

Doc was something like a frankenstein monster

Etho was a Kitsune

Beef was a Minotaur

Wels was a Scentaur

Bdubs was a Dryad

Keralis was Moth man

TFC was the grim reaper

JoeHills was a ghost

Cleo was a necromancer

Stress Monster was a witch

False was an alien

XB and Hypno were both humans who could talk to animals and control time respectively

Jevin was a shapeshifter

Impulse was a dragon

Tango was an Oni

Zed was an angel

Ren was an Inugami (a type of dog yokai)

and Xisuma was an Eldrich monster

(I might be forgetting some hermits)When I made this au I tries to stray away from the popular choices for a hermitcraft monster au at the time. Also I never came up with anything for Pearl and Gem since they joined long after I abandoned this au. If I were to come up with something on the spot then Pearl would be the Moon Rabbit and Gem would be a nature demigod

Ooh! this is really good! and it makes sense as well! Amazing, job nonie, if you have any other things to add onto this au, please add on, i'd love to hear more!

[somelazyassartist]

A few comedy potentials in the Kravitz is Keats theory that I very much enjoy

Family reunions, obviously. Or any get together really. "Sorry I killed you guys twice" "sorry we broke your fucking legs" and Kravitz has to deal with both sides.

The whole not-quite-but-basically-sorta-demigods thing only on complete opposite ends of the spectrum. Imagine you get sick and die and are promoted to being the grim reaper for the Raven Queen, and while you're supposed to hunt down liches and necromancers you ignore your siblings for a little while because they're your siblings, besides they had good intentions and weren't hurting anyone as far as you know so you just focus on other liches and don't really pay attention to what they're doing as the years go by. And then one day like 10000 years later your boss shows up to work with the Celestial Plane's worst hangover and she tells you your siblings have more or less become the Gods of Getting Blackout Drunk At A Rave And Partying So Hard You Cause a Literal Apocalypse™. And then she tells you not to worry about it because your husband murdered them so problem solved. You are Kravitz Adventurezone and you are having the most confusing night of your un-life.

Actually seeing each other in the Eternal Stockade after apocalypse 2.0. "You're the Grim Reaper????? Why didn't you tell us you were the grim reaper???????? We could've wasted so much less time in that stupid torture dungeon if we knew you were undead too????? Also you like helped save the fucking world from the Hangry or whatever it's called I think that's kinda important you couldn't have written a letter or something??? Called us on an Adventure Zune????? You are a cruel and unjust little brother and I am going to cry now" as Kravitz throws them in fucking jail

I could probably think of more if I tried I just think these guys are very sillyfunny

[cardworksartblog]

Hi uhhh. So yk animation v minecraft? Yea me and a friend made an au w some ocs lol. Heres the desings for canon characters i came up w bc u guys r probably Bored. Circe and her weird bug r there too dont mind them, click/tap for better resolution and quality, yadda yadda.

Summary of the au is basically. DnD esque universe where King Mango's son Gold gets sucked into a rift in dimensions and then spat out on the other side of the world at age like 4. Abt like 7 years later Mango hears rumours abt his son possibly being Alive, and puts out a bounty as a last ditch effort to see if its true; anyone who can get his son back to him gets half the royal treasury.

Me and my friends ocs who are a band of bisexual assassins with History w mango see this and go 'oh we'll just pick some random 11 year old up and trick him lol', accidentally getting The Actual Kid mango is looking for. Theres a problem tho bc victim, whos the grim reaper, basically sends their forces after them bc good technically shouldnt be alive. Also chosen, dark and circe are bounty hunters and have a hit on the assassins bc they killed a duchess.

Im still working on the story layout for the rw story so like. Yea enjoy hearing abt my adventures in hyperfix hell. Character tidbits under the cut lol

Character titbits;

Green may or may not be a homunculus. I do not confirm nor deny this idea as canon.

Red is the Beast King's runaway child (the beast king is herobrine).

Purple isnt pictured bc i havent designed them yet but they were basically given as a gift to mango by their father, the Fae King.

Yellow lived in a semi futuristic dystopian underground colony completely shut off from the rest of the world and escaped getting executed for trying to give the general public redstone bc of a reactor melting down and fucking exploding.

Gold gets wings and a pair of mini brass weapon scythes after they and the assassins win a fight against victim at the end of the journey. They're essentially like vic's blessing and way of admitting they were defeated fair and square.

Circe came out of the same rift that teleported gold onto a whole different side of the earth. She and gold lived at the same orphanage for a few years before she decided to run away to find answers bc her eyes are fucked up. Shes like an isekai mc but ends up being the source of the rifts and its a Whole Fucking Thing.

Sec was made by a god of creation semi intentionally, whereas chosen was made accidentally and treated like a servant and dark was made from the raw energies of the war that killed victim and turned them into a god of death instead of a god of harvest. To avoid the other gods reacting badly to a second 'chosen one' his creator sent him down to the world w no memories. Seconds whole purpose for going on adventures is to find out where he came from.

Blue was the first one to join sec on his journey and is a normal guy aside from his immunity to poisons.

The living hollowheads r all demigods lol.

[water-you-doing-bro]

Breathing

Requesting by a sweet anon for poly jercy + their oc Isãbella, the daughter of Thanatos! Fair warning, this is my first time writing jercy and I haven’t read it in a while so idk how well this is gonna work out [sweat drop] I hope you like it, nonnie! <33 Characters: Percy, Jason, OFC Pairings: Percy/Jason/OFC Warnings: none that I can think of but please don't hesitate to let me know if I should add anything! Word Count: 2,867

~ ~ ~

Things had been quiet lately. That should have been the first sign that things were about to go to shit. 

But after everything, everyone just wanted to relax and take the time to heal. They let the drop in monster attacks and the lack of prophecies lull them into a false sense of security and now they were paying for it. 

It started off as a normal enough day. Isãbella got up, showered, and met her boys outside so they could walk to the pavilion for breakfast together. 

“Good morning, boys,” she said, smiling and biting back a laugh. Jason was dressed, bright-eyed and bushy tailed as ever. Percy, however, was leaning heavily into Jason’s side, head dropped on the blonde’s shoulder as he drooled. His hair was a mess, as always, and he was still wearing his pajamas. 

Isã pecked his cheek and giggled when he mumbled something that could have been anything from ‘good morning’ to ‘fuck off.’ He really wasn’t a morning person. 

Together, she and Jason dragged Percy to the pavilion and sat him down at the Poseidon table. Isã ignored the rules, as usual, and sat with him, while Jason had to go sit alone at the Zeus table. But he was only alone until Leo skipped over and plopped down beside him, also as usual, with a complete and utter disregard for the rules. 

After breakfast, with Percy now fully awake and fit to bursting with energy, they went to the arena to spar together, training in each other’s weapons. 

Percy and Isã were both quick to pick up the spear from Jason. Percy because he was, infuriatingly enough, a natural with just about any weapon he got his hands on, and Isã because it was close enough to her scythe that she made the adjustments easily. Jason already had experience with a sword, so he had a leg to stand on, but Isã struggled a bit with the difference in reach and weight distribution. Both of her boys were absolutely terrible with a scythe, though, and Isã had a field day watching them swing the top-heavy weapon around with no finesse. 

Once they’d had enough of that for the day, and after they’d cleaned up, Percy bundled them into his car and drove them back to the city to visit his mom, Paul, and little baby Estelle. They had to stop to fill up on gas a few miles from the city. Percy pulled into a little run-down gas station and Jason went inside to buy them drinks. 

Isã chatted absently with Percy while he pumped gas, her leaning against the side of the car and Percy against the gas pump. Only a few minutes had passed before there was a loud crash from inside the building and they heard Jason yell. 

Isã and Percy were both moving in an instant. Riptide sprung to life in Percy’s hand and Isã summoned her scythe Theristí̱s, Reaper, into her hand and the world seemed to darken as they barreled into the little shop. 

“Jason!” She snarled when she saw the cyclops towering over Jason and lunged without a second thought. She swung Reaper with a guttural cry. The monster whirled around and caught her blade on his club with a laugh. 

“Little spawn of Death, huh?” he chuckled and dodged her next swing. “I haven’t met one of you before.” he smirked. “Not often that dear old Thanatos meets a mortal and leaves them alive long enough to get pregnant, let alone actually give birth to the monstrosity. Though I guess he came back for her soon enough, huh?” He leered at her, and Isãbella saw red. 

Her mom was a bit of a sore spot, and apparently this random cyclops had managed to figure that out. She’d met her dad, learned about the demigod world, and lost her mom all in one terrible, horrible night. Amanda Rivera was the most wonderful, kind-hearted woman and she had been the best mother to someone as weird as Isãbella had been growing up. And then one night, when she was eight years old, Isã had woken up in the middle of the night to a loud crash coming from the living room. 

She’d crawled out of bed and snuck down the hall. She peeked around the corner and saw a giant, monstrous black dog snarling at her mom. Her mom was waving a weird, glowing stick at it and yelling. There was a weird twisting in her tummy and it was scaring her. Then the big dog had lunged at her mom and they both screamed. Something dark and scary burst inside her belly and suddenly the dog was looking right at her with glowing red eyes. Isãbella lunged for the weird glowing stick her mom had dropped and in a blind panic, swung it at the dog. It exploded into a weird golden dust and Isã just stood there for a moment, panting. She was confused and scared and she wanted her mom. But when she turned to find her, she saw red soaking into their carpet and a strange man cradling a second, sorta see-through copy of her mom in his arms. He had long black hair, ghostly pale skin, and huge, dark wings sprouting from his back. He promised to be right back after he took her mom ‘home’ and when he returned, he explained that he was her father and she was a demigod. She got brought into the world of gods and monsters the hard way, like most demigods did unfortunately. After explaining everything to her, Thanatos had scooped her up and carried her to Camp Half-Blood where she lived in the Hermes Cabin as just one more unclaimed little girl with no family and no home. 

When she turned twelve, however, Thanatos had appeared in the middle of the night and taken her away from Camp. He explained that there was a war coming and he did not want to lose her to it. So he trained her and kept her hidden away from the other gods. Took her with him to collect souls and disguised her as a nymph so no one would question it. She learned to harness her powers and how to defend herself. 

After Kronos was defeated, Thanatos sent her to another camp, Camp Jupiter, to help Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, as an ambassador of the Underworld to the Romans because apparently there were Romans now. She and Nico grew close pretty fast, and she helped him resurrect his sister Hazel, even though she knew it meant something had happened to her dad. 

When Percy Jackson suddenly showed up at Camp Jupiter with no memories except for his best friends’ names, she had tried to stay away. But Percy was magnetic. He drew you in without even trying and before you knew it, he’d dragged you down into the undertow and there was no escaping it even if you’d wanted to. She hadn’t had the chance to get to know him when he first arrived at Camp Half-Blood since her father had snatched her away barely a year after he arrived. But now, she could see why everyone was so drawn to him, why Nico loved him. 

Then she’d met Jason Grace and he was almost Percy’s polar opposite. Where Percy was dark and wild, almost blurry around the edges like a glitching video game, Jason was bright and rigid, all sharp edges with fraying seams like a paper that had been folded and unfolded too many times until it was on the cusp of falling apart. Where Percy wore his heart on his sleeve and put love and friends and family and loyalty above all else, Jason was hard to read, keeping his emotions close to his chest and putting duty and honor before all. 

But they were also so terribly similar. They both exuded a warmth and calm that made you feel safe and loved and protected. They both fought with a vicious fury for what they believed it. Neither of them knew when to quit or how to say no. They both gave all of themselves when asked, put everything they had into everything they did. They were both stubborn and gentle and unwaveringly kind. They both had a terrible habit of self-sacrifice and were prone to aggressive overprotectiveness. 

Really it was no wonder they fell for each other. And it was no wonder that Isãbella fell for both of them. 

When Percy fell into Tartarus with Annabeth, unwilling to let his best friend suffer alone, Jason had just about fallen apart. All of them had. When they got Percy and Annabeth back, as soon as Percy woke up, Jason had pulled him into a desperate kiss and begged him to never do that again. 

Isã had been okay, at first, watching from afar. She was content to just be their friend, even if she wished they could be more. But then Cupid had to go and fuck with them, forcing Nico to out himself and forcing her to admit her crushes on both Jason and Percy. It was rough, and it hurt, but they would have managed. Except Jason had been there, had heard and seen and witnessed it all and Isã knew that she was going to lose them forever. 

Except then Jason had hugged her and told her he loved her and Percy loved her too but they had both been too scared that she would find it weird to date both of them while they were also dating each other but he was so happy she felt the same but he also assured her that he wouldn’t say anything to Percy until she was ready and he promised Nico that he wouldn’t tell anyone about his secret without his permission. 

For a few weeks, everything had been perfect and Isãbella could almost forget that they were facing the end of the world. Nico had taken off with Reyna, Coach Hedge, and the Athena Parthenos to shadow travel them back to Camp Half-Blood and hopefully stop the two camps from going to war while the rest of them sailed off towards Greece to face down the Giants. 

Sometimes, Isã felt like she shouldn’t be there. She wasn’t a part of the prophecy, she wasn’t one of the Seven, but the others assured her that with an extra pair of hands and her rather terrifying weapon, well, the more the merrier, right? And she quickly found that she could talk to Nico in their dreams. 

Death and Dreaming were closely related after all, and her father had told her that she might have some control over dreams. So she was able to keep her friends updated on Nico’s progress and keep Nico updated on how everyone else was doing as well. She played messenger between her friends on the Argo II and people back at the camps, trying to stall the battle long enough for Nico to arrive with the Athena Parthenos and for the Argo II to arrive at the Parthenon in Greece and put an end to the Giants. 

When Gaea woke, and Jason and Leo and Percy had faced off against her (to storm or fire the world must fall) she had been terrified. The dark, twisting sensation she felt in her gut whenever someone died and their soul was ready to be passed on to the Afterlife was omnipresent that whole fight. She couldn’t rely on it to tell her if one of her boys was dying because so many demigods and monsters were dying all around her, her senses were overwhelmed with deathdeathdeath and it was all she could do to stay grounded in her body enough to be aware of her surroundings. 

She felt her wings explode into the physical plane, so dark they seemed to suck the light out of the air surrounding her. With a mighty flap, she had launched herself into the air and sent shadows rippling across the battlefield. She cut through monsters and pulled their essences into her shadowy wings, calling them into Death and holding them there. 

She tried not to focus on the hurricane and the firestorm and the raging winds behind her, couldn’t afford to split her attention like that. Still, she prayed to her father that they would be safe. She knew the prophecy, knew that one of them was going to die (an oath to keep with a final breath) and she didn’t want to lose any of her new friends. But selfishly, so gods damned selfishly, she couldn’t help but pray that it was anyone but Jason or Percy. 

When the dust settled and the battle was over and she could finally, finally shift her focus, she was met with the sight of Jason and Percy stumbling to shore, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders for support. She launched herself into the air once more and flew over as fast as she could. At the sight of their grief-stricken faces, she knew Leo was gone, that he had given his life to bring Gaea down. She pulled her boys close to her and wrapped them safely in her arms and cocooned them within her shadowy wings even as they flickered and began to disappear back into their plane of existence as her emotions dropped. 

Things had been hard, afterword, with funerals and rebuilding and trying to make amends and create a relationship between the two camps. Then Leo came back, Calypso in tow. Then the camps were rebuilt, Greeks making friends with Romans and Romans making friends with Greeks. 

Things were finally getting better. 

But then a monster attacked Jason in a little run-down gas station just outside NYC and suddenly Isãbella felt all of eight years old again, watching her mom get attacked by a beast she had no name for. 

She screamed, something raw and primal exploding inside her as she lunged once more at the cyclops. At some point, she’d dropped her scythe, so she drew the knives she kept hidden in her sleeves. Her wings burst into existence, sending cheap shelves crashing to the floor and breaking through decaying wood. It was cramped and she had no room to use them but in her blinding rage she could not will them away so she simply pulled them in tight to her back and ignored them. 

Somewhere, Isã could hear Percy yelling at her to stop, to calm down, but he was easy to ignore with the rushing in her ears and focus instead on the sound of the cyclops’ laugh. She snarled viciously and the lights in the small store exploded. 

They were plunged into darkness. 

No light streamed through the windows even though it was just past noon, and Isã knew that the only light the others could see in the room were her bright, silver eyes as they glowed and the glint of her teeth when she gave the monster a feral grin. 

She could see in the dark perfectly well, but the cyclops couldn’t. Therefore, it never saw her coming when she snuck up behind it and slit its throat with her knife. 

She watched as it choked, then crumbled to dust, mind blank. 

Sunlight slowly seeped through the windows and illuminated the store once more and she felt her wings flicker out of the physical plane. 

She kicked the pile of dust and spat on it for good measure before turning to finally check on her boyfriends. 

Jason was sitting up now, leaning against Percy’s side and blinking at her dazedly. Percy watched her calmly, his arm wrapped around Jason’s shoulders. 

“He’s alright, Isã,” Percy said softly, no doubt reading the lingering fear and worry in her tense muscles. “He’s probably got a small concussion but it’s nothing a little ambrosia won’t fix.” 

Isãbella let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and walked over to them, dropping to her knees. She reached out to cradle Jason’s cheek and let out a shaky breath. He gave her a tired smile and leaned into her palm. She reassured herself that she could not sense Death lingering around them, couldn’t feel her father’s presence about to swallow the warmth surrounding them in that moment, and finally let herself relax. 

She dropped her head on Jason’s shoulder and took a moment to just breathe. She hated seeing either of her boys hurt, it gutted her and twisted at something deep in her chest every time it happened. 

Jason shifted and gently kissed her temple. She felt Percy start running his hands through her hair. 

“Come on,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her crown. “Let’s get outta here. Can’t keep Estelle waiting forever.” 

She let out a watery laugh, not entirely sure when she’d started crying, and helped Percy pull Jason to his feet. There was ambrosia waiting in the car and once they’d broken off a corner for him to eat, Jason would be right as rain. 

They made it to Sally’s apartment just in time for a late lunch while helping her bake blue chocolate chip cookies. 

[missroserose]

Whumptober Day 18: Treading Water

Kick.  Kick.  Push, pull.  Inhale. exhale.  Keep your head held high. Don’t think about how heavy your body feels in this deadened water, no saline to buoy it, no microorganisms to carry your distress to your sisters (no sisters to hear you, even if there were).  You kick harder, raising your head further out of the water—this is but a temporary inconvenience, you are immortal—

“Whaddya mean, there’s no way to kill it?”  A child’s voice in a man’s timbre, the whining note amplified by the echoes from the cave surrounding.  “Everything dies, Sam.”  Cold, dead eyes focusing on your face through the grate above your head; a child, perhaps, but still a killer.  “They’re, what, Ancient Greek?  So there’s gotta be something in the lore.”

“Sure, lots.  Nereids are mentioned hundreds of times in surviving texts.  Beautiful water nymphs, guardians of springs, sweet and benevolent.”  You can hear how benevolent means beautiful; mortals and their ridiculous obsession with physical attractiveness.  A shift in the shadows, as if the owner of the voice is gesturing to you, your overlarge eyes and tight-furled ears and anglerfish teeth.  “Clearly none of it’s reliable.  So unless you want to summon your reaper friend and ask firsthand…?”

The killer-child’s eyes roll upward.  “Jealousy’s a bad look on you, Sammy.”  Gaze flicking back down, assessing.  “Whatever.  We can figure this out.  It’s a water creature, right?  What happens if we pull it from the water?”  

There’s another set of eyes peering down through the grate at you, now, and for the first time you feel a thrill of genuine dread.  The eyes are canny, thoughtful, the sort that see through illusions and into the heart of things.  A hero’s eyes—and the tales are full of stories of what happens to those who land opposite a hero. 

“It goes into a sort of hibernation,” the hero answers, still watching you.  “Dehydrates—like frog eggs, it’ll just seal up and wait until there’s water again.  There’s stories of dried ones being passed around as sideshow curiosities, until an unwary tourist spills their drink on it—”

Dehydrates.  The word fills your mind and your throat with dry dust.  A last resort, a sort of living death, half-aware, helpless, cut off from the world—your legs churn at the water, and you bare your inhuman teeth and surge up towards the grate.  A partial victory—the killer-child shies back, taken by surprise.  Still, the smart one is unfazed by your display of hostility; it continues looking, weighing, assessing.  Contemplating.

“Shame.  I always wanted to do a shady deal with a carnival barker for a questionable item.”  The killer-child’s voice trickles down through the grate.  “Well, we know distilled water holds it.  Can it drown?”

Drowning.  You would laugh, if you had the spare breath to do so.  These are such petty mortals.  Not demigods, barely even heroes, working from scraps of myth and broken pieces of knowledge that have survived through the years.  You should’ve heeded your sisters’ advice not to prey upon humans—they’re clever, those overgrown apes, they’d said, and persistent, and demanding.  Be glad they’ve largely forgotten about us—but you’d been so lonely—

“If you want to stick your arm in there and hold its head under the water, be my guest.”  The second voice is a different kind of dry, now.  The eyes are still watching you, in a way you don’t particularly like; you refrain from baring your teeth again, merely stare back, defiant.  “Dean,” the voice says, still  holding your gaze.  “I think it’s intelligent.”

“It’s a monster, Sam. They don’t really perceive the world the way we do.”

“Maybe not.  But it’s following our conversation.”  A short silence, a few breaststrokes, the silent water pressing against the webbing between your fingers, the silent whirring of a mortal mind working.  “I don’t think this is a nereid.”

“That’d explain why we’re not seeing the ‘lovely of face and shapely of form’, I guess.  And here I thought ol’ Shelley just had really specific tastes.”  The dead eyes are back, curious.  “So, what is it?”

“Something much older.”  There’s a strange tone in the voice, respect mixed with awe.  So.  The smart one knows at least a little of his catechism.  “I think this might be an oceanid.”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “What’s the difference?”

“About the same as the difference between a rainstorm and a hurricane.”  A shift; the hero drawing back, slightly, having finally realized the danger.  “Nereids are the spirits of wells, springs, other small, friendly sources of water.  Oceanids embody the ocean—they control the weather, the fish harvest, things like that.  Sailors would sacrifice to them to ensure good weather for a voyage.  They’re…not so much spirits as full-on elementals.  Minor gods.” 

“Shit.”  There’s a pause, as the killer-child digests this.  “I don’t suppose a holly stake would do the trick this time?”

The hero doesn’t answer.  Another several breaths, several strokes, several kicks.  Your body feels heavier, the deadened water tricking your perceptions; the slowed movements of your limbs don’t escape the smart one’s gaze.  “You’re cut off,” the smart one murmurs.  “What happens when you run out of energy?  Or simply out of will?”  The eyes finally leave your face, as he addresses his partner.  “I think we should leave it here.”

“And risk some spelunker stumbling into the cave and finding it?” That whining disappointment again, the killer robbed of his favorite game.

“Better than risking it escaping when we try to move it.”  Another thoughtful pause.  “We could cave in the entrance.  With any luck, nobody will find it for decades.  Centuries, even.”

You’re trying not to panic.  The pool in which they’ve trapped you is not large, but the sides are slick, and of course there’s the iron grates covering each opening…and you’re all too aware that there’s no one to hear you scream.  

You’re alone.

You’re alone when the two pairs of eyes withdraw.

You’re alone when the rocks come tumbling down.

You’re alone in the darkness that remains.

Kick.  Kick.  Push, pull.  Inhale, exhale.  Keep your head held high.  Don’t think about how heavy your body feels, don’t imagine the sterile water sapping your energy.  That way lies madness.

Think of the revenge you’ll wreak, on the hero and the killer-child.   On everyone and everything they love.  A hurricane will be but a grain of sand to the sheer scope of your anger.  Poets will sing songs of it for generations.

For now, you just have to keep kicking.

[outpost51]

About Fithum, Zegan, Stazor & Smith, part I: The Partners

A/N: Listen I didn’t spend years falling down a worldbuilding rabbit hole for a smut oneshot that turned into a much larger series NOT to share how completely normal I am about the Arsonist Chronicles.

Savras Zegan, Founder and Director of Acquisitions, initially started the organization in the 12th Century as a means of finding, cataloguing, and researching the material and immaterial scars left behind by The Deep’s unchecked wanderings before his imprisonment beneath the sea. No one is entirely sure what Savras is, other than Veilborne, as their appearance changes for each individual. Allegedly, the Mothers know. If true, neither Life nor Death have divulged the secret. The most popular rumor at the moment is that Savras is a demigod like Leviathan, but this has yet to be proven or debunked. What is known is that they are utterly baffled and fascinated with modern technology. It is a magic beyond their understanding and they have been known to grant boons for relatively simple things like changing the ringtone on their smartphone.

Miorina Stazor, Head of Resurrections and Immortal Affairs, got her start in resurrection with, of all things, the family pet — a spotted bengal cat named Lizzie. She alleged a tall woman in a black veil witnessed her crying by the little stone marker and couldn’t bear the heartache, and thus gifted her a book which now rests in a spelled glass case in her office. Lizzie also skulks about her office, and the building, and seems to possess the ability to use the Gateways to other FZS&S buildings. Mind your feet. Now, Miorina, affectionately known as Mia by friends and colleagues, and fearfully as The Reaper by those rare few who managed to get on her bad side, works closely with the hundred or so resurrectionists in employ at the firm.

Paghana Fithum was the third partner to join the FZS&S firm as the Chief Ambassador of Cross-Veil Resources and Research when Miorina responded to a blip on her radar of a returned soul radiating more energy than normal. Rather than a resurrected magic user or a self-risen necromancer (rare, but possible), she found Paghana’s Undead ass (actually Undead, not resurrected by anything, not a necromancer, and no one knows how it happened or if the body she’s inhabiting is even *hers*) flitting around ancient ruins — considered prominent Gateways, or places the Veil is particularly thin and easy to cross — to greet new arrivals, delivering supplies to isolated were and vampire communities, and in general running herself ragged trying to mother hen the entire nonhuman population. When asked why, she stated simply: “What else am I going to do? Shamble about and moan?” She saw a gap in the firm’s preternatural services primarily helping humans with Veil resources, but not giving anything back to the community from which they were benefiting, and established her department with Miorina’s blessing.

Tom Smith, Chief Security Officer, is… well, he’s just a guy. At the time, Fithum, Zegan & Stazor had no centralized security department, just several guards on rotation. Miorina suggested opening applications for someone to organize and lead the department. It’s unknown how Tom found out about the opening, since it was only circulated within the organization itself. Naturally, he got the job. Within six weeks, he had not only organized the security force, but also sniffed out and mitigated a significant amount of vulnerabilities. It’s also unknown whether or not Tom is human, as he hasn’t aged a day in the thirty years since he started working for FZS&S. Whatever he is, he’s just Tom to his employees and colleagues— not Mr. Smith. They aren’t sure what would happen if they called him Mr. Smith after the initial introduction, and so far no one has been brave enough to find out.

[stygicniron]

“So, you want to stay here?” Hiroki asked curiously, leaning across the table to look the boy in the eyes. “What are you? You feel… like a reaper but you don’t look like a reaper.” Hiroki’s power was partly to detect what people were, but he couldn’t pin this one down exactly.

Nico looked exhausted, and it didn't take special powers to notice that. Dark circles under his eyes, he'd rallied himself enough to sit presentably in front of the king, but this would be the last of his energy he had left. The last shadow travel took a lot more out of him than he expected it to.

"If that's alright with you," he said, nodding slightly. "I need to... rest before I travel again."

A small smile danced on his lips at the mention of the reaper. Thanatos would think that was amusing, probably. Nico wasn't fully sure what a reaper was, but he could take a guess with the context clues. "I'm a demigod. Son of Hades," he answered, although he had a pretty good guess the other wouldn't fully know what that meant.