#poweful nico

[yonemurishiroku]

Prince Nico - because you asked for it

Someone made the effort of diving in my dms for this so akdhwkhsak of course I’m gonna grant it. Since it isn’t specified whether it should be an AU or not so I’m just gonna… go with both. I guess.

Prince Nico in canon universe. This is canon. Believe me. Hades told me himself. Nico is a prince. (And also a King, but that’s another story)

Tbh I have talked too much about this lolol it’s like a religion at this point.

- Nico who has his private chamber with a five-star service, canopy-bed-and-red-carpet, the full package, all of that.

- Nico who’s favored enough to say something like “It’s okay, Dad wouldn’t do anything when it’s me”

- Nico who has full rights to sit along the Judges in the Judgment Pavilion and takes petty joy in sabotaging Minos.

- Who definitely has free-pass on Charon’s boat trips.

- He calls Nico “young Lord” because I say so.

- Nico who, unsurprisingly enough, has a fairly amicable relationship with the Furies and can give commands to his father’s closest subordinates.

- And by extension, shares his father’s punishment of listening to the ghosts’ complaining (he’s much more mild-tempered compared to Hades btw and that just encourages the ghosts further)

- Nico who has to indulge Persephone’s weekend tea parties bc that’s what royalties do also she’s bored down here

- Who falls asleep in the throne room and Hades doesn’t say anything, Persephone doesn’t say anything and so neither does anyone else. Nico can navigate his father’s palace as he wishes.

- This is just my self-indulgence but Alecto calls Nico “little one” and Thanatos goes with “little prince”. 🥺 I’m obsessed with little prince, alright?

In a royal AU. Let’s just say this is a general, typical Royal AUs as I have too many Royal AU at this point which I don’t even know what they are LMAO. Just bear with me on this ride, would you?

So, the main reasons I’m very much invested in Royal AU/ Prince Nico are that 1/ the vibes 2/ the political power.

- Every time I think of Prince Nico, it’s with the ceremonial slim-fit suits, heavy black cloak, silver fur lining, jewelry adornment, spiky crown (which levitates instead of simply resting on his head and thus looks more like a halo) and ofc, a sword on his belt.

- I could die to see him in a crown and an one-shoulder cape, drowning in fur and jewelries, srsly.

- There’re small gems in his hair. It always gleams no matter the angle. shadowed eyes with bags that make him look low-key stressed out half of the time.

- Still, perfect etiquette. Stands like a prince and walks like a prince. Perfect posture when needed (and practically lazily slouching when is relaxed/tired btw)

Now, onto my favorite part: the powers Nico could have possessed if he was to be a prince. Tbh I’m less interested with the princess-prince love story and more passionate about the political field.

- I have always pictured him as the responsible type, ngl. In a Royal AU where they’re put in position of power and duties alike, I think Nico would be the type to be fairly dedicated to his people, in the way that he believes it’s his obligation. He values the people’s trust and servitude.

- It’s become more intense when he was chosen as the heir to the throne since Zagreus, the eldest prince, left the palace for the wild (to which Bianca followed). Now, with the newly found authority, he wishes to to make everyone’s lives better.

- Works as a courtier and a member of the royal family at the same time, the first to sway Hades’ judgments. Some fears his over-powered influence, but Hades never says anything and neither does Nico.

- Always acts with his kingdom and people as the top priority. Refuses to tolerate anything that show signs of threatening the great’s benefits even when it means damaging his personal interests. Romance means little to him. And it isn’t like he’s interested in ladies and princesses alike, anw.

- Also immensely respectful and loving towards his kingdom, which means Nico would never let someone makes fun of it in front of him and live.

- Perfectly calm, collected and closed-off in public/ business. He’s good at hiding his expressions, most of the time he wears a neutral face with a slight frown.

- But would be quite extreme if need be. Kind but straight-up merciless when it comes to the wrongdoings. I’m talking the cruel, unrelenting level. And Nico’s wrath is something straight-up rivals his father.

- Distant and uptight when you’re not close enough. He keeps everyone at arm’s length even when he cares a lot for their wellbeing. If you’re business based acquainted, chances are he’s always on guard around you. Nico treats the servants decently, but he isn’t close with anyone.

- If you’re Hazel or Bianca tho, he’s a softie.

- Mingle with the peasants quite often, though anonymous and Nico prefers to keep it to himself and mostly observe instead of directly interacting.

- Understands the civilian life since that’s where he comes from. He and his sister used to live with their mother before being taken to the palace and raised as royalties.

- The coronation. God the coronation. ψ(｀∇´)ψ I like to think that Hades makes it ridiculously big for Nico just because he wants to brag. And when he places the crown on Nico’s head, the moon bursts into silver and the dais made of gemstones shines brighter than gold. He ascends the throne while reveling in the night’s blessings and bathing in people’s praises and wishes.

If anything, Nico’s probably the first to ascend amongst the other royal heirs such as Percy or Jason. I suppose it’s due to Hades being the better parent in the three, and the fact that Nico is, by all means, an authentic, canonically King.

And that is why Nico the royalty is my religion.

[burgendee69]

Frankly, Argo II should not have been their mode of transport. Not only does it make transport boring and uniteresting (when before it drove the plot forward a lot) it makes a lot of sideplots feel unnecessary? like we have a mission dedicated to finding supplies and then we have more random subplots which don't contribute to the plot and prolong the length of the books and reduces the tension because in the end they go to their own luxury rooms and state of the art technology rooms in a fucking flying ship??

That's just the ship because this makes leo so OP like this is not a struggle for him and it diminishes him as a charater which only gets worse as he discovers Archimedes' sphere which in the end disconnects him from the other characters and the plot because he magically comes up with the solution and ends up with all the pieces in his hands without anyone else's help b the time Gaia's battle comes around.

I don't think this is a problem with just his charcater either- Piper's charmspeak is so powerful it defies all of Rick's previously established rules, Hazel gains control of the mist for no reason while neglecting her actual powers which fulfilled the same purpose and Frank found out how to shapeshift but it's barely used because he has barely any plot significance.

They all seemingly have powers which are somehow even more OP than the big three kids while nerfing Percy's powers, blatantly writing Annabeth out and literally knocking Jason out of every fight to give the other fighters their spotlight.

IMO, the root cuase for this was that he trapped 7 incredibly poweful teenagers together forcing them to face the exact same conditions and therefore had to take out the experienced fighters so that the rest of the 7 would be relevant again. This literally would not matter is he had thought to spread out the seven and idk not had everyone experience the same plot on an OP boat and spend the majority of their time doing nothing?

The seven can still be main characters without ALL of them being on the quest. Hell have Gaia manipulate Percy when he doesn't have memories and coerce him to her side before he remembers his life, have Annabeth struggle with the pressure of being a leader during wartime and athena's quest, make Grover the one who tries to gather allies, stick Frank in the middle of roman politics while he tries to make peace, send Hazel of a desperate search for Nico and there you go! Leo, Piper and Jason are stuck trying to make their way to Greece because there's they're the only hope and get them to form an alliance at the end of the House of Hades so it drives the desperation and tension high as they all rush to save the world. and for Christ's sake let Blood of Olympus be at least half battle so Gaia and her children can be trated as an actual threat?

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 28

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades Little more ichor warning here... Sorry about a delayed update tonight, various pieces of independant shit all hit the fan near-enough simultaneously in my life this afternoon/evening. I promise I always update these chapters the moment I'm free to do so! I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 27

APOLLO XXVIII

Family quarrel Meanwhile Bob says hello to The sun and the stars

Apollo felt his lips twist into a grim smile.

“You didn’t foresee that, did you, Koios?” he asked, running across air – clean, blessed air – as though it were solid land and sending another brace of arrows at the titans.  “I’m not the one who got too caught up in absolute futures – you are.”

“Less taunting, more killing,” Artemis scolded, loosing a steady hail of arrows herself.  The sun had almost set, Sol taking her chariot down on the last stretch towards the horizon, and in the imminence of the rising moon, Artemis was beginning to glow brighter, a silver that outshone icy blue as Koios’ form became darker and darker.

Apollo managed a soft laugh, the scolding of his twin a familiarity he hadn’t felt in too long – not truly since before he was mortal – and it was a return to a normality that he hadn’t realised he’d been missing until it happened.  He’d missed Artemis something fierce during his time as Lester, and they’d been a little off-kilter in the weeks since he’d re-ascended, partly because he’d been readjusting to being a god again, and everything that came with it, and partly because he’d been too busy worrying about Will and Nico’s prophecy, spending as much time as he could get away with desperately trying to find a loophole.

He'd found one, and the Fates had clearly agreed as the prophecy had almost completed without any intervention from the demigods, from mortals who had no place in Tartarus and would never have survived the Primordial’s wrath, nor anything else in the run-up to Tartarus’ rising.

It hadn’t left much time for reconnecting with his twin.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Koios snarled, and Apollo had to jump back as the titan diverted almost all of his attacks on him.  “You are still a child in the ways of the future, Phoebus.  Certainties exist, they cannot be avoided no matter how hard you try, and you should not try.  We are custodians of the future, guardians of it.  It is not up to us to meddle.”

He wielded his massive sword as though it was a fraction of the size, hacking and slashing with a proficiency beyond almost any god (Ares would have something to say if Apollo ever claimed a titan was a better swordsman, but it was a close run thing), and Apollo ducked and leaped, disappearing and reappearing in rays of light.

Compared to Kampê, compared to Typhon and Echidna and evading Tartarus itself, playing keep-away was almost easy.  Apollo’s reaction times were better, bolstered by the sun even as it dipped below the horizon, and his power was greater.  Fresher.  Renewed.  He wasn’t at full strength, but nor was Koios – and Artemis was.

It showed in the extra power of the silver arrows, hitting a little bit harder, burying a little deeper where they scored a hit.  Every so often, the simmering silver flames of his sister’s eyes flickered over to him, not an open concern but something, an awareness that Apollo wasn’t as strong as he should be.  He smiled back, waving it away because he was fine – would be fine, once he spent a few more hours out in the Overworld, away from Tartarus and its constantly sapping miasma.

Even with his injuries to account for, Apollo hadn’t realised just how much he’d been weakened until he was back in the Overworld and no longer being subjected to a steady yet subtle drain.  Even if he wasn’t at full strength, he felt powerful.

Koios, on the other hand, seemed to be weakening.  It wasn’t that titans were inherently weaker in the Overworld, although they did tend to get a boost in Tartarus that gods didn’t, but he wasn’t getting the same degree of revitalisation.  Apollo had no qualms about pressing his advantage, gold arrows falling thick like hail, dragging streams of golden ichor out of his grandfather’s form.

The titan refused to concede defeat.  Apollo was glad for that – he didn’t know how to handle a surrender, didn’t know if he could trust Koios to keep any word he might make, especially when his life was on the line.

But Koios wasn’t completely done.

“If I go back to the Pit, he’ll obliterate me,” he said, voice low and rasping.  “I risked everything to come out here, to see you, to see my daughter.  Do you hate me so much you would be responsible for my destruction?  What would your mother think?”

Apollo thought about his mother, her gentle demeanour yet intense stubbornness.  What would Leto think of her children destroying her father?  Apollo had never heard her mention him, but in their family that meant nothing.  Most family did not even acknowledge each other in any sort of familial sense on Olympus.

“If you wanted to see Mother, then you should not have threatened Olympus,” Artemis said harshly, more silver arrows joining Apollo’s golden ones in their persistent hail of destruction.  “This situation is of your own making.”

It wasn’t just Olympus, although Apollo of course didn’t want to see her fall.  It was the demigods, Apollo’s son – his children – and many others he had come to care about.  Demigods who, against a titan could not and should not be expected to fight.

For the demigods, for Olympus, Apollo could fight.

He stepped in, closer, and with a light spring jumped to land on the broad side of Koios’ sword, perching delicately on it even as the titan tried to dislodge him with some complicated strokes.  Inside the minimal striking range of the weapon, he drew his bow back again, a brace of arrows nocked on the string, and let them fly.

At point blank range, not even Koios stood a chance of evading.  All of them crashed into his head, impaling his eyes, his nose, his mouth.  The force alone stripped most of the skin away, leaving the icy blue titan far more gold as ichor spilled down his front.  Artemis leapt up into the air, as light and delicate as her beloved deer, and at the apex of her jump, released another arrow.

It punctured Koios’ heart and he jerked forwards, coughing awkwardly as he tried to expel the ichor that was no doubt pooling in the base of his throat.

“You don’t know… what you’re… doing,” he rasped, a warning that prickled Apollo’s skin for all that none of his foresight had shown him anything alarming that would come out of his grandfather’s death.  Perhaps Koios really had seen something that had eluded Apollo himself.

“Putting down a rabid monster,” Artemis said, landing lightly behind him but moving before his eyes tried to find her.  “It would hardly be the first time.”  With that, she walked away, not even bothering to watch as their grandfather slowly began to turn to ash, too many wounds of varying severity for even a titan’s constitution to keep up with.

Apollo couldn’t look away, not as Koios took a stumbling step forward, reaching for him – for him to heal him.  He watched, instead, committing to memory the sight of the gold-stained, icy blue titan as he staggered, falling to his knees and then slowly beginning to disintegrate, one limb at a time.

There was no saving him, not once the dust began, but Apollo felt no more attachment to his grandfather as he died then than he had when Koios had first sized him up.  He was a threat – had been a threat – and needed eliminating.

The last light of Sol’s chariot disappeared beyond the horizon as Koios took one last, shuddering breath.  Icy blue eyes bored into his, a desperate rage but no plea, Koios had more pride than to beg for his life, it appeared, and with the last of his strength, he threw the massive sword he carried straight at Apollo.

It was a last, futile, gesture.  Apollo simply stepped to the side, and watched it sail past, burying itself in the side of Hades’ temple, where his uncle could do as he chose with it.  When he looked back at where Koios had stood, there was no sign that he had ever been there.

“What about you, Iapetus?” he heard Artemis ask, and turned around to see his twin glowering up at the remaining titan.  There was something almost comical about a delicate twelve year old girl glowering up at a ten foot tall titan, but Apollo knew better than to laugh.  Artemis would punish him with far too many arrows in far too many delicate places if he did.

“I would prefer to go by Bob now,” Bob corrected.  “Iapetus was the name of the titan who opposed the elder gods and would have continued to attempt to do so had I not been forced into the Lethe and given a new life as Bob.”

"Bob, then," Artemis allowed.  "My question still stands: what about you?"

The titan looked at Hades, who stood beside him.  "I would like to see Nico, first, and then Percy and Annabeth.  I have no designs against Olympus."

"Nico will not be pacified until he sees you," Hades agreed.  Apollo noticed he was rather less offended by the idea than he had been when he'd first learned of Nico's reason for trying to return to Tartarus.  Perhaps the titan had grown on him slightly. His uncle glanced up at the sky, where the first glimmer of stars had begun to appear as a sliver of Artemis guided the moon chariot out of its stables.  "We should return to the Underworld now.  I have left it unattended for too long."

"What about Father?" Artemis asked.  "He will wish to see you about this."  The way she said the word left no doubt that she still did not approve of their quest, and knew that Zeus would not, either.

Hades let out a dismissive bark of laughter.  "My brother will not wish to see me," he said, and Apollo wondered if he was the only one to hear a strain of old pain behind the derision.  "He never does."  Apollo found himself the subject of his uncle's gaze.  "Come, Apollo.  I presume you wish to see your son again."   Before I pass judgement, went unsaid, the look in his eyes telling Apollo he was referring to Asclepius rather than Will.  "Before dealing with my paranoid younger brother."

"The longer you delay, the angrier he will be," Artemis warned.  "Don't make this any worse for yourself, brother.  It has barely been two months since the end of your previous punishment.  You shouldn't push him."

It was the reminder of the last time he was punished, disappearing without a word for six months, that convinced Apollo.

"I need to see my son," he said, meeting Artemis' disbelieving eyes.

 "Apollo," she argued, and his shoulders slumped.

 "I can't just disappear on him without a word," he said quietly, begging her to understand.  "Not again."

She still didn't look like she approved, but she backed down.  "Don't take too long," she warned, a plea of her own in her words.

"I won't," Apollo promised her, and she sighed.

"You'd better not."  She turned to look at Bob again, and Apollo saw her eyes widen.  Curious, he looked at the titan himself, and saw that Bob was looking up at the stars - specifically the newest constellation, the Huntress.

Zoë Nightshade, a long-time companion of his sister and, he remembered, a daughter of Atlas.  A granddaughter of Bob.

"Hello," Bob whispered, barely audible.  There was no response from the stars, the court of Ouranos forever separated from the mortal realm, but after a moment he lowered his gaze, looking directly at Artemis.  "Thank you for honouring her."

Artemis looked taken aback at the thanks, not that Apollo could say he'd been expecting it, either.  "Zoë was a long-time loyal friend and companion of mine," she said after a moment.  "It was the least I could do for her."

Bob nodded in understanding.  "Still, I thank you," he said, glancing back up at the constellation again before turning to Hades.  "I am ready," he added.  "Shall we?"

Hades turned away without a word, heading back into the temple.  Bob followed, but Apollo hesitated for a moment, looking back at his twin.  She looked resigned, although still clearly disapproving of his decision.

"Don't tarry too long," she pressed - Apollo could almost call it a plea.  I don't want to lose you again, passed between them silently, and Apollo flashed her a grin that was far more confident than he felt.

"I won't," he said.  "I just need to see my son, first."  She still didn't look convinced, but she turned away.

"I will find you later," she told him, a promise that almost sounded like a threat, and he smiled wider.

"I will see you then," he replied, and watched as she turned to the silver of moonlight, flickering out of view.

"Apollo," Hades called quietly, and he turned away from where his twin had been to follow his uncle and Bob back down into the darkness of underground, passing the gigantic ice blue sword buried into the outer stones of the temple as he did.  He didn't know how he felt about Koios, his grandfather yet a titan still determined to end Olympus.  Perhaps he should have felt guilty, not even giving him the chance to see his daughter, and knowing that Tartarus would likely eliminate him for good the moment he regenerated, however long that would take.

He didn't, though.  He couldn't, knowing that Koios was a permanent threat to the demigods, to his children and others like Nico and Percy who had been forced through too much already and deserved a peaceful life, not another titan determined to kill them.  And... as Artemis had said, he was an Olympian. He could never have stood by and watched Olympus fall without at least trying to save it.

Passing back into the shadows was less disconcerting than Apollo was used to.  Perhaps it was because, compared to Tartarus, it didn't seem all that dark at all.  It certainly felt more welcoming.  Hades guided them through the twisting passages of the temple, past the closed Doors of Death, until the atmosphere changed and they were no longer in the Overworld, but the Underworld.

Hades greeted Cerberus as they passed, ruffling the fur of one specific head as the massive hound grumbled in contentment.  Apollo gave the three headed dog a wider berth, not overly keen on being either bitten or slobbered on, whichever Cerberus elected to do.  Bob, on the other hand, greeted him as an old friend, and Apollo wondered at how much freedom Hades had given the amnesiac titan, if he'd been able to wander so far from Hades' palace and the associated janitorial duties.

Despite Cerberus’ enthusiastic greeting of Bob, they did not linger, passing the queuing souls waiting to receive their eternal fate – a sombre sight, and Apollo did his best not to scan them for any familiar faces, anyone he had known who had passed while he’d been unable to keep track.  He failed, and caught glimpses of more than a few mortals he’d had an eye on – budding musicians, successful musicians, underappreciated poets…

Mortal lives were short; Apollo lost friends, proteges, interesting mortals near-daily as the Fates cut their threads and moved them on to the afterlife.  It never made it any easier, but he took small comfort from the fact that at least none of his children seemed to have died while he had been in Tartarus (while he’d been mortal had been a different matter, and Apollo had been distraught to find one of his eldest mortal children, Ruth, had passed away shortly after her eighty-third birthday while he'd been rescuing the Waystation’s griffins from Indianapolis Zoo).  He almost never came to the Underworld – technically, he wasn’t supposed to, and visiting the souls of the dead was entirely off-limits so there had rarely been a point to dropping by unless it was to bother Hades – and the eternal parade of the dead unsettled him.

Hades, of course, had no such qualms at all, and nor did Bob, the titan whose descendant had created humans, who held domains such as pain and mortality.  The Underworld was a good match for him, Apollo realised, for all that he had no idea what the titan had planned after greeting Nico and tracking down the other demigods he had befriended to greet them, too.  There was snatches of something in the future, a silver titan laughing with demigods that hadn’t yet been born, finding open plains and simply sitting and staring at the sky, at the sun and the stars as they passed, glowing something fierce, splattered with golden ichor that may or may not have been his own.

Possibilities, all of them.  No certainties, nothing to tell Apollo what Bob would choose to do, but he did know that Bob had chosen not to join Koios’ ambition to destroy Olympus, that he had promised Artemis that he had no intention of doing so – and that those words had sung with the wholesome notes of truth.  For the time being, Apollo would trust the titan – watch him, yes, but trust his word.

Iapetus had always been known for keeping his word, even if in the legends, in the histories he had scraped together later from his mother’s stories and even his father’s, when Zeus was still of a mind to tell stories, those promises had generally been of a darker, more brutal nature.

So far, Bob had done a good job of keeping the agreement they’d released him under, so Apollo figured it wasn’t too naïve to hope that his promise-keeping was applicable to all his promises, and not just ones along the nature of I will make you bleed, slowly and painfully, until you wished you could die.

They passed the Judgement Pavilion and swept through the outskirts of the Fields of Asphodel, the shades absent-mindedly passing out of their way, as though it just happened that they were wandering in those directions – although Apollo knew better, knew that it was Hades’ presence that was gently redirecting them around them rather than risking them coming into contact with the gods and titan.  Hades’ robes, in particular, were a threat to the peaceful shades; Apollo didn’t know how, exactly, it was formed, but he would not have been surprised to discover it operated similarly to Stygian Iron, drawing in any souls it touched as it passed.

None of the residents of Asphodel deserved such a fate, and Hades was fair to his subjects despite the inherent unfairness of death.  Only those that deserved to suffer suffered; the others were left to either a peaceful existence or the celebratory joy of an eternal afterlife.  Even if Apollo hadn’t, on some level, already known that, having felt the depths of his uncle’s essence, the complexity of death with the black and white and grey in between, he would have to be blind not to recognise it.

Beyond the Fields of Asphodel, in the distance Apollo could see the razor-wire containment enclosure that fenced off the Fields of Punishment, their screams just as grating as they had been the last time he’d heard them.  Every soul that was trapped there deserved to be there, for the atrocities they had committed during their lives, but that didn’t make Apollo any happier to hear their screams – especially when his thoughts turned to Asclepius’ amended punishment, and the likelihood that Hades would send his immortal son there.  He hoped his uncle would be more merciful, but he was well aware that he had bartered as much as he could for Hades’ mercy in keeping his son out of Tartarus, and that there were only so many places in the Underworld where the punishment could continue.

Sisyphus was there for defying death.  Asclepius had done the same thing, although at least he hadn’t imprisoned Thanatos to do it.

It still wasn’t a comforting thought.

Apollo tore his eyes away from the sights of various punishments, some milder than others but all torturous to the recipients, and did his best to ignore the screaming as his gaze was instead drawn to the brightest patch of the Underworld: Elysium.

Guarded by high, ornately decorated gates, the sounds of music, laughter and joy spilled out.  Apollo assumed the gates prevented the sound of screams from entering and disrupting the valorous souls’ eternal lives, but it did very little to stifle the sounds of joy emerging.  It was a startling contrast, but one Apollo gladly latched onto, for all the flicker of want stirred inside him.  He had children in there – some lovers, too, but mortals in modern times tended to end up in Asphodel unless they did something truly spectacular.  Elysium was a place for heroes, and while some modern mortals qualified, over the centuries it had largely tended more and more towards demigods and legacies.  Apollo didn’t know exactly how many of his children had ended up there rather than Asphodel – or the Fields of Punishment, a thought he didn’t want to dwell on for any length of time – but he knew of some that had certainly reached Elysium.

Of that number, several were also some of the most recent, sudden, deaths; ones he had yet had time to fully finish grieving for.

“Apollo.”  Surprised, he turned his head to see Hades had slowed to a halt and was looking at him.  Puzzled, he paused next to him, aware of Bob stopped on the other side of his uncle, watching them curiously.  The older god tilted his head towards Elysium, a graceful and almost regal movement – the king of the Underworld in every inch of his posture.  It was a comfort, in a way, to see Hades in perfect control again.  Apollo could still feel the freshly-revealed light in his uncle’s essence, knew that who his uncle was hadn’t changed from Tartarus, but he had always seemed in control and his struggles in the Pit had been wrong.  “Go.”

His muses screeched to a halt.  “Excuse me?”

Hades’ lips quirked up in one corner, an admission of amusement.  “While I am in the process of upsetting my paranoid brother, I may as well add one more transgression to the list,” he said.  “This is the only time I will do this, but go.  Say the goodbyes you were unable to.”

Apollo gaped at him, then glanced back at Elysium, at the gates he’d never been allowed to pass.

The gates his uncle gestured towards, which soundlessly edged open in a silent invitation as the behest of the god.  “You do not have long,” Hades warned.

Apollo needed no more prodding.

He split, staying with Hades and Bob because he knew there wasn’t much time, and that he had two still living sons in the Underworld to reunite with, both of whom would panic if he didn’t appear with Hades, but also heading towards the open gates, pausing in wonder as he stared up at them.

Was this the right thing to do?  Would his children want to see him?  Phoebe had never been the most devoted daughter, not since she joined Artemis’ Hunt, and all his children that had died fighting for Olympus, for him… did they resent him?

This was for closure, he told himself.  A goodbye, Hades had called it, and the selfish, desperate part of Apollo pushed him forwards, through the gate and into Elysium.

Elysium was bright, not lit by the sun but something similar, the warmth and light of paradise, familiar from the echoes of Hades’ essence.  Music played, songs ranging from older than Apollo himself to recent hits from the latest decade, and he slipped through the laughing, happy souls, many familiar over the millennia, searching for the few in particular he had not yet gained peace with.

He found Lee first; his kind, child-loving son had found himself a group of eternally-young demigods and was telling them stories, interspersed with strains of music from a perfect replica of the flute he’d had in life.

Michael was also listening, lounging in the lower boughs of a tree, with a bow held lazily in his hand and a half-full quiver on his hip.  Some of the arrows were buried in targets a hundred feet away, but he seemed content to just sit and listen to his older brother tell stories for the moment.

Apollo approached him first, silently leaning against the base of the tree until his son noticed him, brown eyes widening in shock.  “Dad?”

He had to catch him when he lost his balance and fell out of the tree, for all that he was just a shade, now, and wouldn’t get hurt even if he did fall.

He splintered further, slivers of himself going further into Elysium, finding children doing what they loved best, content in a way they’d never been able to be when they were alive.  Some of them had grouped together – Robyn and Nathan had been of an age when alive, and of an age when they died fighting against Kronos, firm friends and as thick as thieves – while others had wandered further, meeting with old friends or even making new ones, now that they had all of eternity to do so, and no risk of losing the other.

Apollo sought out all of them, leaving a little bit of him with each as he found them to talk, to sing, to do whatever they wanted in a bittersweet goodbye (Michael hugged him, the first time his son had ever initiated one, and Apollo burst into tears while Lee laughed and disentangled himself from his enraptured audience long enough to join in).

Phoebe was the last one he found, running freely with many other familiar faces Apollo remembered from the Hunt, and he felt a pang of regret that Artemis couldn’t be with here, saying her own goodbyes to those she’d lost.  His daughter did a double take as she caught sight of him.

“Apollo?”  She hadn’t called him father since taking her vows; Apollo hadn’t expected that to be any different now that she was dead, but it was a marked contrast to the rest of his children, who upon realising he was there had called him various iterations of ‘dad’.  “What are you-  The gods can’t come here.”

“Phoebe,” he said, taking in the sight of her for what he knew would be the last time.  Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as he smiled at her, bittersweet but suddenly so thankful he could, one more time.  “Hades let me in, just this once.”

Chapter 29>>

[much-obliged-timothy]

"... Vergil..."

«Yes, Nero ?»

"I just thought of something Dante told me..."

«What about it ?»

"... Aren't you responsible of murdering the entirely of two major cities ?"

«...»

I've always thought it weird that in most fanfics I've read, barely anyone talks about how Vergil probably has a killcount in the millions.

Okay, I don't even know how I feel about what I wrote for this?? But it was either a "let's clear the air a bit" take or a 100k+ word fic addressing it so, uh...here's the non-proofread first option!

*

Vergil tried to ignore the tension between him and Nero. They were sitting in the van, waiting for Nico and Dante to grab them food. It was taking them forever, and Vergil kept staring out through the windows to the line inside the pizza joint Dante had dragged them all to.

He had no idea what the tension was even about, honestly. Things between him and Nero were not always great, but for the most part, they managed reasonably together. 

And today went fine. They worked a fairly simple job with no incidents. Dante and Nero rounded up a small horde of minor demons, and Vergil had slaughtered them quickly. No complications, no arguments between them, no injuries, no big battle where they kept getting in each other’s way.

So why the tension?

He didn’t dare ask. Frankly, he still despised the challenge of working through the emotional tangle that was his relationship with Nero. It always put him on edge when Nero brought up something related to their thin relationship. Nero was so open with his feelings, and it felt like being hit by a tidal wave.

“Vergil?”

Vergil glared harder at the line inside the pizza joint. Dante and Nico were laughing over something together, still a few places back in line. “Yes, Nero?”

“I want to talk about something Dante told me.”

Well, that was never good. Vergil glared harder at his brother. “What about it?”

“Aren’t you responsible for murdering the entirety of two major cities?”

Vergil found he forgot to breathe for several beats, then forced himself to resume doing so calmly. Perhaps there was little in his past he would do again, but stabbing Dante leapt to the very top of the list in that moment.

Nero’s voice when he asked the question was neutral. Vergil couldn’t bring himself to look at the boy.

“Not directly, no,” Vergil said, trying to keep his voice from getting too tight. The tension in the air had thickened between them, seeming to creep into Vergil’s chest.

“He finally told me what you did, back then,” Nero said. “I heard Lady say something about it, and I made Dante tell me everything.”

“He told you his side,” Vergil said, and failed at keeping his voice loose. 

“Then tell me yours.”

That surprised Vergil enough to risk a glance at Nero. Nero was gripping a water bottle far too tightly in his hands, knuckles white with tension. But his eyes were…pleading? 

Maybe he thought Dante was just exaggerating the things Vergil had done. Vergil was angry with himself at the spark of guilt that flickered inside him. 

“I made my choices back then, and I cannot change them,” Vergil said, turning away again. “We live with the things we do, Nero.”

“But we have reasons for doing them,” Nero said, his voice starting to rise in the way it did when his emotions got the better of him. “I’ve made my mistakes, Vergil, but I’ve never killed a bunch of innocent people. You had to have a reason. You had to. Something.”

Nero’s belief that Vergil was not simply a wretched person doing wretched things for the hell of it tore at him in an unexpected way. He found himself snapping back a reply without thinking it through.

“What do you want me to say?” His words were sharp, because Vergil fought even without a weapon. “That I suffered as a child and resolved to be too powerful for it to ever happen again? That I went on a selfish quest for power, a quest I was willing to kill my own brother to achieve, only to become a slave to my father’s enemy in the process? That it only drove me more desperately for power, until I was casting out my weak human self and cutting off my son’s arm? I did what I did, Nero. I did not regret it. I cannot change it even if I did. My choices are mine to live with, not a legacy to be shackled onto you. Don’t concern yourself with my actions; that kind of nosiness benefits no one.”

The silence that followed gave Vergil the absolutely awful experience of comprehending his own words. He almost wished Nero had just killed him when they fought. It would’ve spared him this horrifically embarrassing, vulnerable moment.

Finally, Nero broke the silence. “Fuck you, Vergil.”

Rejection. Vergil had expected it from the boy at some point. He shut himself down before it could hurt.

A water bottle landed on the table in front of him. He looked up at Nero, who was lounging back now, expression troubled.

“I think you’re a bastard for all of that. I think nothing can redeem any of it,” he said, staring up at the ceiling of the van. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try anyway. You took down the Qliphoth. You didn’t have to. Everything Dante said about how you were back then would’ve made me think you’d never do that, but you did. That’s got to…”

Mean something? Vergil didn’t know if it did. Clearly, neither did Nero.

“Foolish,” Vergil said quietly.

Nero’s belief in the good of people was ridiculous. Vergil had only ever seen that kindness in his mother.

“They done ordering yet?” Nero asked.

“No, not yet,” Vergil said.

“This better be some damn good pizza,” Nero grumbled.

“Even if it’s not, Dante is paying for it,” Vergil said.

“Did anyone tell him that?” Nero said.

After a long, painful moment, Nero gave a small, weak grin at his own joke. Vergil didn’t smile, but his shoulders relaxed noticeably.

Their relationship was thin and strained. But that kindness Nero had inherited from Eva, or perhaps learned from Kyrie, kept it from breaking. Just for now, and Vergil knew there’d be more questions later. But for now, they’d addressed it and cautiously tiptoed around the weight of the issue without ignoring it altogether.  

Vergil would reflect on it. That’s what Nero needed him to do, and Vergil supposed he could grant the boy that much.

Maybe he would decide he’d had a reason after all, even if he could never be redeemed for his actions. Or maybe he’d decide he really was just a wretched creature in human skin.

Either way, Nero could still bear to look at him, at least for the moment. Vergil knew that was more than he deserved, and did not take it for granted.

[algumaideia]

CW: death

Jason knew he should expect the unpredictable during battles, everything could happen, surprises, out of nowhere you could start winning or losing. He was prepared for it all, anything and everything could come, and he would fight it until his last breath with no problem. Or so he thought.

In battlefield crazy and unexpected things happened. Jason knew it. But Nico died. And that was the only thing he couldn’t imagine happening.

Of course, he knew there was a chance of Nico dying. He often dreaded this possibility. But Jason never thought it would happen. Nico was so close to death. It was like it followed him. Nico following death was kind of ridiculous thought. Besides Jason was sure he would die first. He was the child of prophecies, always in the center of the big battles, raised to sacrifice for a greater purpose. Meanwhile, Nico was able to do his own thing, stay in the side lines, not partake in the biggest mess of the gods problems.

Jason would die young. Nico would have a long life.

Yet, there Jason was, alive, seeing Nico lifeless body.

Nico fell with his head facing the ground. It was almost not possible to see his, now empty, eyes. The pool of blood around his head was so big, like all of blood on his body was taken away. His skin was pale like it was never before. His mouth was open, but no air was entering or leaving.

Jason had heard some demigods say Nico looked death sometimes. But they were so wrong. If they could see him now, they would understand how before Nico was full of life.

Feeling null, Jason didn't really realize he was crying and shaking. Nico was dead and his mind wasn't able to register it. Some moments ago he was alive. Jason saw him during the battle. How could he be dead now?

Jason knelt near the body, incapable of touching it for a moment. Nico wasn't holding his sword. He looked so defenseless.

After some time, it could have been hours, someone came to Jason. He was still there, knelt his hand almost touching Nico but with no courage to do so.

"I'm sorry, my hero."

Jason looked up and Juno was there, wearing a beautiful long white dress, with a complicated hairstyle. She was dressed like a battle hasn't just happened in the place. Like people didn't die. Like Nico hadn't just died.

Like she wanted to ignore it all.

"Tragedies happen on battles and sacrifices must be made to things keep balance."

"Bullshit!!!"

Jason shouted and then started sobbing. He softly caressed Nico's hair.

"I did everything, everything, you asked me… and now you take him away from me… anf for what?! To keep your pow-"

"I do not control the fate, my hero."

"Bullshit!!" This time Jason didn't shout, there was less anger in his voice and more hurt "I did everything… why did you take him if I did everything?"

"Oh, my child, this wasn't a punishment. And believe it or not, I did everything in my power to protect your beloved. But as I said, I do not control the fate. Your loss pains me, I did want to protect you from it."

"I never asked anything, can't you bring him back? For my services?"

"That is now how things work. But I'll see you what I can do. I really am sorry, my hero."

Jason didn't answer. He just cried.

Nico was dead. Her words were hollow. The world was empty. And he had never felt this broken before.

[acesabo]

@temeraire tagged me! thank you so much <3 Three Ships:

monkey d. luffy/roronoa zoro (one piece)

midoriya izuku/todoroki shouto (bnha)

jinbei/nico robin (one piece)

First Ship: uhhhh probably mamoru/usagi from sailor moon (which i still ship *points at icon*)

Last Song: i thiiiink it was pico from the friday night funkin soundtrack

Last Movie: kung pow? it's not a good movie but it's a childhood favorite of my metamour's sdlkjf

Currently Reading: the subtle art of not giving a fuck: a counterintuitive approach to living a good life by mark manson

Currently Watching: my polycule just started jjba! i fucking hate dio!

Currently Consuming: blueberry cobbler coffee =w=

Currently Craving: milk tea

Currently Listening To: gwen shambli lara & the remnant fellowship by Fundie Fridays! (BIG BIG BIG TW FOR DISORDERED EATING AND BAD DIETING AND CHILD ABUSE AND CHILD DEATH.)

taggin uhhhh @ghostymeat @lemonadelyric @dialoglog and anyone else who wants to!! none of y'all have to, obviously, but y'all are like. My Other Two Beloved Mutuals™ (+ my metamour) (FOR THE RECORD, temeraire, you're also on my list of Beloved Mutuals) and i felt safe tagging y'all lsdkjf

[mcyt-things-ig]

Outsiders, Owen POV, episode 52 - I don't think this one will give me much

recap of episode 51

Everyone seems to be up and about

Eryn! Nico tried godbridging and died, classic

detective pow is here too. This is so cute and wholesome

Eryns gone into the dark maze. That was fun while it lasted

They're sitting at the campfire and going to say what they're thankful for.

Owen is thankful for everyone in the clearing. Acho is thankful for everyone's patience with him. Krow is thankful it doesn't have to be the old version of itself any more in the clearing. Magic is thankful to the monster for leading her to clearing 1 and everyone in it.

This was so cute, I hope it stays like this a little while longer, I need the relief from constant angst and action

[maugurim3]

in defense of bucky

okay so I am a big fan of the winter soldier . And somebody said bucky has no reason to be mad at walker . Well keep in mind walker embodies the usa goverment until his trial where he throws a tantrum (😅 Dude grow up )

Bucky doesn't trust the goverment for many reasons . Number 1 Alexander peirce was a hydra agent for the usa goverment and what happened well bucky is forced to try and kill steve twice . After being dealt with physical abuse with peirce hitting mind you ( a pow) formerly . And keep in mind buckys from the usa .

Thunderbolt ross tried to kill bucky in 2016 regardless of the fact he was framed and showed clear signs of ptsd and dissociative identity disorder . Such as how bucky talks about the museum. You also have where he remembers his and steves childhood but barely .

Number 3 bucky knew walker was served up on a silver platter just based on that news broadcast . And his own exsperinces . Because he himself was drafted. Walker is basically drafted to become captian america .

Number 4 what bucky says to same in Raynor and buckys last therapy appointment .

Number 5

Walker was annoying . Dude they have reasons for not working with your froggy face (😅 it's a joke okay ) the guy is nearly everywhere sam and bucky , zemo ( I f*****g hate zemo . It's because of other interpertations and how he framed bucky and showed that bs vhs tape near the end of civil war)

Number 6

He could of disarmed Nico without using deadly force . For example if Leah a crocdile tries to kill me I have to shut her mouth and keep claws still or I'd get killed . Ken Peter's when kastka was upset he spoke gently didn't panicked . John walker on the other hand only destroys the block in self defense . He could of also seriously injured nico such as cutting the arm by throwing the sheild or talk to the guy.

[yonemurishiroku]

I just think that Hades, a god he is, might not actually do everything Nico asks because there’re rules and stuff and he’s a responsible god

but at the same time, he would definitely not do anything that hurts his son, either.

Hades wouldn’t put Nico in danger if he isn’t sure that his son could take care of it. And after that he makes sure Nico heals well.

Hades wouldn’t do those that upset him. He wouldn’t lie to him (hiding, maybe, but def not lying). He asks for his consent. He respects his wishes and above all, he values his happiness. The world be damned if Hades has to jeopardize that.

Same goes to Hazel, btw. For the love of everything holy on earth, he lost Bianca, he can’t afford to let another down.

Hades has a line and that is hurting his children.

[adominguezs]

Pink Floyd - The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn. Año 1967. Edición USA. Reedición 2016. Rock psicodélico. Pink Floyd Music Ltd. <<El flautista a las puertas del alba>> es el álbum debut de la banda, lanzado el 5 de agosto de 1967. Este disco fue uno de los primeros en explorar el rock psicodélico, junto con "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" de The Beatles y "The Velvet Underground & Nico" de The Velvet Underground, que fue grabado casi simultáneamente. Se le considera uno de los LPs más influyentes de la historia. Pink Floyd - Syd Barrett - voz, guitarra. - Roger Waters - voz, bajo. - Richard Wright - teclados, piano, voz - Nick Mason - batería, percusión. Producción - Norman Smith - productor. - Peter Bown - ingeniero de sonido. - James Guthrie - remastrizado. - Bernie Grundman - remasterizado. - Joel Plante - remasterizado. Tracklist: A1 Astronomy domine 4:14 A2 Lucifer Sam 3:07 A3 Matilda Mother 3:08 A4 Flaming 2:46 A5 Pow R. Toc H. 4:26 A6 Take up thy stethoscope and walk 3:05 B1 Interstellar overdrive 9:41 B2 The Gnome 2:13 B3 Chapter 24" 3:42 B4 The Scarecrow 2:11 B5 Bike 3:21 #musiccollection #coleccióndemúsica #vinilos #viniloschile #viniloslp #rock #sharemusic #compartirmúsica #lp #vinylrecords #pinkfloyd (en Villa Presidente Rios, Higueras) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoIPs_vOrrL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[leechan1018]

Happy Birthday to JACKY FUNKY KAMEI  お 誕生日 おめでとうございます 亀井丈人！  23歳おめでとうございます💚🤩❤️✨️ あなたの特別な日を心よりお祈り申し上げます。 あなたの積極性、愛、そして美しい精神で、これからも人々の人生を変えていくことを願っています。POW! POW!  . Warmest wishes to you on your very special day. I hope that you continue to change the lives of others with your positivity, love, and beautiful spirit. . Miki Kawanishi  Kamen Rider Ex-Aid   Reina Kurosaki/Nico Saiba   Morishita Mao ( Kamen Joshi ) Birthday   . 2022年11月11日 11 / 11 / 2022 #ドラゴンゲート #ナチュラルヴァイブス #ジャッキーファンキーカメイ #亀井丈人 #誕生日 #おめでとう #プロレス #いいねした人全員フ��ローする #フォローバック率100 #フォローバ100 #dragongate #naturalvibes #JACKYFUNKYKAMEI #taketokamei #happybirthday #omedetou #puroresu #japanesewrestler #POWPOW  #followalways #likeforlikes #likesforlike @kameitaketo https://www.instagram.com/p/CkzslLOtTYl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[dritatt]

Watch mail call full episodes

#Watch mail call full episodes full#

#Watch mail call full episodes series#

#Watch mail call full episodes series#

Investigate crimes in Europe alongside the FBI Fly Team from the new series FBI: International or join the manhunt for criminals with the Fugitive Task Force from FBI: Most Wanted. These first-class agents tenaciously investigate cases of tremendous magnitude, including terrorism, organized crime and counterintelligence.ĭiscover the other teams of The FBIs. Newest to the team – and the FBI – is smart and outspoken Special Agent Tiffany Wallace, who spent six years with the NYPD and is now partner to Special Agent Stuart Scola, an Ivy League educated Wall Streeter-turned-FBI agent. The team also includes Assistant Special Agent in Charge Jubal Valentine, the nerve center of the office whose ability to easily relate to and engage with both superiors and subordinates makes him a master motivator. Overseeing them is Special Agent in Charge, Isobel Castille, who operates under intense pressure and has undeniable command authority. Her partner is Special Agent Omar Adom ‘OA’ Zidan, a West Point graduate via Bushwick who spent two years undercover for the DEA before being cherry-picked by the FBI. Two English girls, having spent their young days in acquiring knowledge.

#Watch mail call full episodes full#

Born into a multigenerational law enforcement family, Special Agent Maggie Bell commits deeply to the people she works with as well as those she protects. Watch full episodes of your favorite PBS shows, explore music and the arts, find in-depth news analysis, and more. This elite unit brings to bear all their talents, intellect and technical expertise on major cases in order to keep New York and the country safe. Track Mail Call new episodes, see when is the next episode air date, series schedule, trailer, countdown, calendar and more. Other services do offer Call of the Night as well, but the episodes aren't updated regularly, so you won't be able to watch the latest ones in every region of the world.From Emmy Award winner Dick Wolf and the team behind the “Law & Order” brand, FBI is a fast-paced drama about the inner workings of the New York office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Only, Anthony Santini can't seem to get the mob thing right. HIDIVE is the only streaming service that allows you to watch Call of the Night on a regular basis. When Toni discovers several of his men have been scammed by a Russian mail-order bride who's escaped back to Russia, he decides to send his troublesome nephew, Anthony Santini to bring back the girl and the money. Where can I find a copy of Call of the Night Episode 9? The girls accept Yamori, who promises that he will fall in love with Nazuna no matter how long he takes. Yamori continues to fight off the vampires, finally yelling that Nazuna will conquer him, just as she arrives. Seri Kiky, the blonde vampire, tells Nazuna to refrain from flirting with him, but she insists that she wants to, and she does, enticing her to do so. However, he rejects everyone's advances for Nazuna. Included: the history of the Lockheed C-141 Starlifter a reunion of former Vietnam War POWs. Skip to main content Due to a planned power outage on Friday, 1/14, between 8am-1pm PST, some services may be impacted. Lee Ermey visits the National Museum of the United States Air Force at the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio. The one he chooses will make him fall in love and convert him. Episodes of the old-time radio AFRS musical variety program Mail Call. Nico Hirata, Midori Kohakobe, Hatsuka Suzushiro, and Kabura Honda appear at the top of a building, where three other vampires are. After she tells him that she is bored with her current life, Yamori attempts to comfort her by hugs him, promising him to take all of his blood. Yamori is approached by a skinny blonde woman who flirts with her and teases her. We are therefore going to give you a recap of Episode 8 in order to prepare you for what may come next: Call of the Night Episode 9 preview and spoilersĪt this moment, nothing about the call of the night episode 9's plot is known. The previous episode aired on August 26, 2022.Ĭall of the Night Episode 9's official release date is shown below, indicating when the episode will be released, depending on where you live in the world. The episode's title is not known at the time of writing this article. The release date and time for Call of the Night Episode 9 are set.įrom what we know at this moment, Episode 9 of Call of the Night will be released on September 2, 2022. On Fuji TV's noitaminA programming block, we'll tell you all you need to know about the upcoming Episode 9 of Call of the Night, which will be released on September 2, 2022. Yofukashi no Uta, also known as Call of the Night, has been serialized in Shgakukan's Shnen Sunday magazine since August 28, 2019.

[culturedub]

WHAOUH !!!!! Sound System on Ice - Culture Dub Sound System - C'ÉTAIT MAGIQUE !!!.... POW POW POW !!! UN RÉGAL !!! Merci à Clement et Guillaume de la Patinoire municipale de Poitiers pour leur accueil, l'ambiance, la vibe, les sourires et la glisse !!... Merci à Dada, Alizée, Nico et tout le Culture Dub Crew pour tout le taff... Un immense Large Up à tous les amis qui ont chaussé leur skanking patins, à Lulu qui nous prépare l'aftermovie et à Bruno pour les photos (d'autres arrivent bientôt !)... Un immense Merci à ma fille Manon Kaya pour le choix de la sélection, un infini Large Up à mon fils Ithry qui m'a inspiré ce Sound System On Ice et bien sur un infini Merciiiiii à TOI, TOI, TOI et TOI qui êtes venus nombreux soutenir le Culture Dub Sound System sur la glace !!!... The Dub Mission Continues... On se retrouve le samedi 15 Octobre @ La Rotative Buxerolles pour la Bux' In Dub #6 - Weeding Dub, Roots Zombie, Steppersons, Culture Dub Sound System !!... LOVE U INNA DUB, Alex Dub #culture #music #sound #soundsystem #dub #digital #culturedub #merci #patinoire #onice #picture #mission #education @brunobarcqphotographe @_ithry_cn @manon.kaya @culturedub @vdlclem (à Patinoire municipale de Poitiers) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjLXRJqsMWd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[heyimboredtalktome]

This hurts me literally every fucking time I read this smh:

Sometimes I forget literally how much Nico has suffered, like he was in a jar with NO FOOD OR OXYGEN for FIVE FUCKING DAYS

Excuse me, I need to shed some tears.

[smilereading]

With great power...comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

Nico, Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 5)

[aphrodisiacal-nyx]

Sexism in One Piece

I have been following the story of One Piece till today and while I love the series and its plot; the sexism has not missed my eye.

1. Drawing styles.

Oda has two categories of women that he draws:

Pretty and with a perfect hourglass figure and an unrealistically large chest.

Unusually drawn and fat.

Oda himself admitted to using 3 circles and an X to draw all his women. He also added that this would rile up women, but you have to stay strong and dedicated. To him, women’s opinions on his manga do not seem to matter.

(Fun fact: A great majority of his readers are women)

Not only the lazy style, but there is a pattern to be seen in One Piece. The pretty women are good, while the unattractive ones are evil. In short, unattractiveness is synonymous with evil. And in places where the villain is actually pretty, Oda finds a way to redeem them somehow. He just has to turn them into a goody-two shoes or sympathetic in some way (Example: Pudding, Baby 5).

Doesn't that all seem a little too convenient?

It seems to me that Oda cannot bear the idea of a pretty woman having malice in her, and being the epitome of evil. And he also cannot imagine any other women than the ones I mentioned.

A reference picture:

2. Women, the weakest.

The females are capable and powerful, but it so happens that they are always the weakest in the crew or group. Examples: Nami, Kalifa, Big Mom (she is considered as the weakest yonko), Reiju, etc.

The list doesn't end.

Whenever there is a woman, and she is poweful indeed, Oda goes and makes her the weakest

The women who are actually very poweful, like Big Mom. are joked on because of their appearances and body shape. They are reduced down to their ugly looks.

3. Their powers reduced.

The powerful female characters, like Nico Robin, who show so much promise, are reduced down to nothing as the story proceeds.

Don't tell me that the woman who hid herself from the government for 20 years, and was the right hand of a Shichubaki, has not sprung in any fighting action after the Albasta arc. Just don't.

She doesn't need protection, and yet, there is always a male coming up at her protection in a fight. Like why?

The one time she has fought post-leap is in the Wano Arc. And that is about all. Nami, too, has gotten Zeus in the arc, but they still remain underrepresented.

4. Pretty bad women.

Oda makes sure that if the bad women don’t turn puppy-eyes, then they are bad women as fanservice.

Example: Sadi-chan. While she is a villain, and her fights are not meant to be taken seriously, look no further. I will make sure people jack off to her, and her face will be hidden with her hair, so the focus stays on the body.

5. The clothes women wear.

All the women, literally all of them, are in revealing clothes.

They are wearing clothes that don’t fit the occasion. Rebecca, a 16-year-old gladiator, wears the clothes unfit for a fight and so does every other woman. If anyone has ever worn a dress, they would know how uncomfortable it is to fight in one. Oda has not. So we get a lot of women fighting in clothes that aren’t practical.

But okay, it’s for fan service and the male gaze. Practicality doesn’t matter to men when it comes down to women.

6. Women’s consent is ignored.

Tashigi was the only one who didn’t wear any revealing clothes in One Piece. However, Oda found a scene to give fan service as well.

In Punk Hazard, he makes sure that Smoker, who is in Tashigi's body, unties the shirt buttons, and even when Tashigi asks him to button it up, he doesn't. That genuinely ticked me off + Sanji touching Nami's body for no good reason even when she told him not to.

It's like their opinions are discarded for no f*cking reason, even when it's literally their own body. Their consent does not matter. And it is brushed aside.

Note: Revealing dresses are not a problem itself, but when everyone in the world wears the same kind of dresses (that too, for the male gaze), then it is not diversification but over-sexualization.

8. A gender-reverse would be good.

There are some extremely off-putting scenes, and if you reverse the gender, you'd find it is not the same case when a male is there instead of a female.

For instance, Kyros asks Rebecca to not use a sword and how it has been a great regret for him to teach her how to fight. Tell me something, is that what he would say to his son when his life was in danger? No, he won't.

Because that is immature.

***

With that being said, there are a lot of other things about the manga that are sexist. Especially Sanji’s character.

And no, just because Sanji is a great multi-dimensional character, it won’t excuse his dismissal of women’s consent and perverted nature. It won’t excuse his misbehavior. It won’t excuse his desires to spy on naked women even if it makes them uncomfortable and is immoral.

P.S. Not fighting women doesn’t show his respect for women. It’s just a part of his chivalry, which is an example of benevolent sexism. Stop equating that with respect.

You’re allowed to like One Piece but you cannot excuse its problematic aspects just because of your ‘feelings.’ I love One Piece and its plot and cast too, but you don’t see me denying sexism doesn’t exist because it does.

Remember, acknowledging the wrong things in something you like doesn’t make the thing bad. It’s only opening up good, healthy discussion.