#stygius writes

[stygiusfic]

wyllstarion, adventurers

Running into Wyll Ravengard in the middle of a job once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is—something to complain about after these horrifying mutant unicorns are dead, good gods, these bloody things can breathe sunlight?

"Stand back!" yells Wyll. Or something equally heroic, anyway—Astarion is too busy leaping out of the way to listen to his exact words.

It's the middle of the night, in the middle of the Cloakwood; but when the first of those nasty unicorns opens its nasty unicorn mouth, the cone of deadly radiance that spews forth makes the world bright as day. It's blinding. It's grounds for demanding triple pay. Astarion gets away clear, so narrowly he feels the draft of sun-hot air blow past.

He has no time to feel relief, because that's when Wyll howls in pain.

"Shit." Astarion whirls around, desperately blinking the dancing spots out of his vision; he makes out the alarming details in stages. Right in front of where Astarion was standing moments ago, Wyll has fallen to his knees. The exposed skin of his nape is burned and blistering rapidly. Like the idiot dove into the blast to shield Astarion.

Wyll grits out, "Are you okay?"

Astarion wants to scream. He wants to cry in relief that Wyll didn't die. He wants to kill Wyll himself.

He does none of these things, because the second nasty unicorn is watching Wyll, injured on the ground, like it wants to finish what its friend started. So Astarion lunges at the wretched thing and stabs it in the neck twice.

"Get up, you insufferable fool!" he yells at Wyll, over the unicorn's shriek. "Stop fretting about me, and let's kill these things already!"

"Right you are," Wyll wheezes.

He gets up, sword in hand—good thing he didn't drop it in the chaos, he can't summon it back with a thought like he used to anymore—and he launches back into the fray. And together, they do in fact kill these things.

It's not a pleasant hunt. Just standing near the creatures burns Astarion's skin. And as if they weren't hateful enough already, it turns out they are also telepathic. When Astarion grapples his prey down to the sun-scorched ground, in its last few breaths of life, it chooses to plant an image in his mind:

Two unicorns glowing with divine righteousness, charging into a forest alongside their paladin master to strike down a hag. Then the paladin dies in battle, and her bonded beasts are corrupted by the hag and forced to rampage and do evil.

The dying unicorn's glassy eye is fixed on Astarion's raised knife. In Common, the sentiment it conveys to Astarion translates to: Tonight, you are a true hero. Thank you.

Ugh.

"You're welcome," Astarion responds, out loud, and stabs where he can sense its beating heart. Then, with a final high-pitched whinny, it's over.

He backs away from the unicorn immediately, in case its radiant aura still burns after its death. Five, ten steps; he rests his back against a tree; and soon he feels the familiar cold relief of his undead flesh healing on its own. He sighs. Good old vampiric regeneration. He did miss it, all those months fighting the Absolute; the one change he resented the tadpole for.

Somberly to his left, in a puddle of glimmering unicorn blood, Wyll says, "These poor creatures. Corrupted by a hag, helpless to resist her wicked designs. I should like to—"

"You should like to return with me to town and collect our payment," Astarion interrupts, because Wyll's good eye is peering deeper into the foliage—as if hoping for a chicken-legged hut to manifest and spit out a hag to complete his crusade. He reeks of burned flesh and spilled blood, two smells that evoke directly opposed instincts inside Astarion. "You are very injured, Wyll, and I'm not leaving you to die a stupid death out here. We're going back."

For a heartbeat it looks like Wyll is going to argue. Then he looks at Astarion and smiles. "All right." Ducks his head, like he's bashful all of a sudden. "All right, Astarion. Let's go."

So they go.

They're on the outskirts of town by the time Astarion recalls he meant to make a fuss about the fact that Wyll keeps showing up in his life out of nowhere. Sometimes he appears uninvited to save the day, others to unwittingly abscond with the job. It's untenable. It can't keep happening. Astarion hasn't spent the last few months risking his life for strangers out of some secret desire to split the money after.

But Wyll spends the whole walk back talking about his recent adventures, laughing next to Astarion like he's too happy to feel the pain of his wounds. And so Astarion figures he can skip the complaints, just this once.

[winifreddinh]

A fanart collection in which each drawing represents a chapter of the Wyllstarion multiverse fic Be My Mirror. Every Wyllstarion fan who has not read it please go do it now!!!

This fic is really something special, so I want to make something special for it too. This idea was floating in my head from the beginning of my reading, but it took a while for me to get started. I have worked on this on and off since November last year. 

Below are each drawing with some of my notes:

Chapter 1 (partingxshot) - Original universe 

Chapter 2 (thecheeseburgercat) - Ballet AU

Originally, I set the scene in a ballet studio, but it felt too plain. I couldn't use colorful ballet outfits either, since they were only practicing. So, I decided to place them on the stage instead, as they did run on it in the chapter

Chapter 3 (shadowfell) - Dream Sequence AU

This art style was an imitation of the comic Dream Sequence from Carla Speed McNeil's Finder, the one on which this AU is based. I read the comic and thought it was very interesting, but I don't think I was able to understand all of it. This tumblr post by the chapter writer - shadowfell - really helped me out.

Chapter 4 (new_space) - Vampire zombie AU

Chapter 5 (not_whelmed_yet) - Ghost Wyll AU

Chapter 6 (partingxshot) - Disney World AU

One of the hardest parts about drawing these is figuring out what Astarion and Wyll are wearing, since some writers write in detail about that, and some don't. And I want to make sure each AU is recognizable immediately when looking at it. I went back to the original fic this Disney AU was based on to look for what Astarion was wearing here. From what I can find, he basically covers himself from head to toe in dark clothing to avoid the sun.

Chapter 7 (SophiaMancer) - Role swap AU

Chapter 8 (GlassThreads) - Twilight AU

Chapter 9 (Rimeko) - Dragon cult AU

Chapter 10 (jellyfishline) - DnD AU

Chapter 11 (ushauz) - Redwall AU

Mouse Wyll is the best thing I have drawn for this whole fic

Chapter 12 (stygius) - Elemental AU

Chapter 13 (odessacastle) - Regency romance AU

Chapter 14 (leyside) - Skyrim AU

I have never played Skyrim so I was honestly lost and needed a lot of advice haha

Chapter 15 (GlassThreads) - Revolutionary Girl Utena AU

Revolutionary Girl Utena is one of my favorite anime, so I was really happy to put them in these outfits.

Chapter 16 (PopcornCrimes (Emi1y_Rose)) - Evil Durge AU 

Astarion wears the Bhaalist Armour here, to hint at how Durge is in the party now.

Chapter 17 (Acephalous) - The Thing (1982) AU

Chapter 18 (anonyhex) - Slay the Princess AU

I tried to imitate the art style of Slay the Princess

Chapter 19 (Aeona, karlachian) - Disco Elysium AU 

Putting UI of Disco Elysium in the drawing. And of course, the skill is Empathy.

Chapter 20 (jellyfishline) - Ascension

It's hard to portray chapters 20 and 21 in just two drawings, so I made multiple ones for both.

Chapter 21 (partingxshot) - Return

There are more details I would have liked to add in some drawings, but I think if I worked on this more I would have gone insane haha. I really hope you guys love it!

Edit: I'm happy for Fanlore to use this with proper credit!

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Getting Nerdy About Magic!

What's more Shadowgast than the wizards being nerds about magic? It's not surprising that this is a common theme in the ship, so here's eight fics where Caleb and Essek show their affection though magical items, help each other out with magical mishaps, and do some magical experiments. Check them out under the cut, and as always - comment or kudos if you like them!

Precision & Power by marsmystic (2475, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb have very different casting styles. One is elegant and precise, the other brimming with burning strength. Very different, but both powerful (and attractive) in their own way.

Reccer says: A look at the wizards and what it attracts them to each other (their magical genius). Beautiful writing

destructive interference by atlasarcana (141219, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek is being haunted by his past in the form of an Aeorian monster; Caleb helps him.

Reccer says: This fic has a few chapters in which Essek's nerdiness over magic is described in detail, and even a few chapters where it becomes the forefront of the plot.

We Should Explore Other Things by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (8692, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The wizards attempt to reverse engineer a spell, and Essek confronts one of the moorbounders in the room (his feelings about Caleb).

Reccer says: The "Spellcrafting as a Metaphor for Relationship Development" and "Essek Thelyss Overthinks" tags say it all

Artificer Devices from Late-Period Aeor: An Experimental Interpretation from Arcane Reconstruction to Functionality (E. Thelyss, C. Widogast) by renquise (5858, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and essek find an ancient Aeorian fuck machine. Caleb descides to recreate it.

Reccer says: Very well written sex scene, and there's so much love between the two of them.

Golden Hour by Technojuicebox (1914, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

An experiment gone wrong leads to Essek asking for Caleb's assistance, and they navigate around the elephant(s) in the room.

Reccer says: Lots of tension and pining, and a little bit of humor

when headlong might save a life by stygius (5489, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb wakes before dawn, the morning after, to find the other side of the bed empty. Meanwhile, Essek prepares breakfast, or tries to.

Reccer says: The wizards attempt to combine dunamancy and cooking - to very sweet results!

heart's ease by quinn_of_aebradore (627, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

During their honeymoon in Aeor, Caleb and Essek exchange their findings as gifts.

Reccer says: I liked it!

write a line, erase a line by hydraxx (5231, General) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Meta nerdery: this fic is framed as an in-universe textbook excerpt talking about Caleb and Essek's academic collaborations.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Want more nerdy fic? Check out our earlier reclist from January 2023!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring Older Favorites! That's any fic that has not been updated (or completed) in over two years.

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[pjo-fates]

📺

[what other medias have you used for inspiration?]

oh i LOVE this question. I have a mental visual board of medias and such that I've used for inspiration. I've been meaning to comply them all into a literal visual board but haven't had the time to.

a few things that have sparked some inspo are:

Twenty One Pilots— my favorite source of inspo, if i need to get into a writing mood, I'll pop on their discography and jam for a few.

EPIC: The Musical— the songs have literally such good potential, I've structured a possible quest around the ideas I've gotten from this. that's all you get on that tho

Hades the video game series— I have possibly used the name Stygius for a weapon name. (It's sona!AJ's sword), also the phrase "Death to Chronos" may or may not make it's way into my fics bc like, HELLO it fits.

DC Comics— specifically Batman and those connected to him. Damian Wayne is a HUGE inspo for Damien Monroe!

Arcane— I've said it once, Viktor is a big inspo for my OC Elias. but the soundtracks are also great sources for inspo as well. currently playing Isha's song rn (and sobbing)

I have no mouth and I must scream— a big inspo for a lot of my villian type characters. AM has taken over my brain.

Mouthwashing— yet another source for villain types, but more or less the villains that you don't realize are villains. fuck jickwad.

Bones on FOX— literally my comfort show, I get inspired whenever I watch it.

Criminal minds— Pandora and her job as an adult is majorly inspired by this show! She's a Hotch type(aka unit chief) and her fc is actually Paget Brewster so haha!

Hamilton— the musical has given me the best dynamic idea ever for a set of sibling characters and I cannot wait for yall to see said dynamic.

that's a good majority of the media I use for inspiration, but there's always more! you can send in an ask if you'd like to the inbox asking for more explanation on one of these or asking for more!

[chronurgy]

1, 4, 6!

What is an area of expertise you find yourself inserting into your work? It can be job-related, but it can also just be a random interest or hobby.

I got weirdly into reading about cults a few years ago, so The Bloody Spectacle of It has some of that information in there, especially in the script - starting with the least extreme beliefs of the cult, appealing to people's sense of justice, using "us/we/our" as much as possible to make people feel like a part of the group already, things like that!

Describe your writing, but exclusively in terms of how it would taste and feel to eat it.

I've already discussed texture, so on to taste! I'm going with good oven roasted vegetables. Combining that fresh vegetable taste with char, olive oil, and salt for a rich flavor experience.

Name three writing inspirations: one dead published author, one living published author, and one fanficcer/fellow amateur writer.

Dead published author: Joseph Heller - he captured hopeless absurdity so well and had a great flow to his writing that I'd love to capture

Living published author: Johnathan Stroud - the Bartimaeus trilogy genuinely lives rent free in my head. Love the ritual magic, love the cruelty of the system, love the way exposure to it grinds the characters down. Love the fear and rage and how they drive characters to make stupid decisions and love the differences in narrative voices.

Fanficcer: Stygius on Ao3 (who may or may not be on tumblr). Their ability to use a single line to punch you in the chest is fantastic. Also treeviality who was a brilliant writer and could create a very real sense of tension and inescapable doom and lingering sadness but tragically deleted all their fics. Anyway if you're still out there I loved your stuff and you wrote a fic where Essek used blood and magic to create a 3d map and I still think about that to this day because it was cool as hell. Also also I'd like to give a shout out to all the incredible fic authors I could mention here whose names I have forgotten. So many people are out there doing incredible stuff and playing with form in such fascinating ways but since I only recently got an ao3 account I have no easy way to find you even if I read your whole catalogue. Anyway you all rock.

[stygiusfic]

"When I first read this post, I knew it would change my life—and it has! Writing a summary used to be the hardest step of the fic posting process, but thanks to the Rook Corviiid Method, I can now craft an effective summary quickly and painlessly. Thank you so much!"

—Stygius McStygiusson (Verified Buyer)

"i suck at summaries": a dubiously helpful list of tips for how to do a summaries

by no means am i an expert. but in the hopes that this is helpful.

fic summaries have two main purposes:

tell a reader what the premise of your fic is in one glance, and

provide a 'hook' that convinces them to click on it.

based on those two purposes, here's what you should aim to do:

pack the key information into something that can be read while scrolling, and

make your fic stand out.

how do you do that. there are many different ways. ymmv. here are some starting points which may help if you are really, truly stuck.

details under the cut. in summary:

know your premise

keep it short and sharp

demonstrate your style

1: can you describe your premise in maximum three lines?

fewer is better. im not saying your summary has to BE fewer than three lines, you just need to be able to describe the premise as concisely as possible. not the whole fic. not everything that happens. just your premise.

being able to condense your ideas this way will improve your understanding of the work and make it easier to summarise.

sometimes it's a bit hard to isolate what exactly your premise is, especially if you were just writing into the void. so here are some questions you can ask yourself to figure it out:

what was the idea that spurred you to write the fic?

what is the climactic action in the fic?

if the fic is an au, canon divergence, what if, etc - what is the point of difference between this and canon?

if the fic is based around a trope, a genre, a particular device - how did you apply it, what makes the work familiar, and what makes it different?

this is important, because:

2: brevity is the soul of wit

now that you know your premise, it's time to jazz it up. turn it into a one-liner or similarly catchy pitch. give it a makeover.

it doesn't have to be literally one line. however, do not make your summary super long. do not make either your summary or your tags a massive block of text. the reader is scrolling. they have not yet decided to invest time in your fic.

the ideal summary is stylish and concise. your reader should be able to take it in without pausing for too long. it gives them a good impression of you: you know how to be economical with your sentences, which means your writing is probably easy and enjoyable to read.

and on that note:

3: including an excerpt is always an option

an optional option. but if you're stuck, it's a free card to play.

readers want to know that your writing style matches what they like to read. showing off your style can help you stand out to an interested reader.

try and find a few lines which are representative of the premise, representative of your style, and sufficiently intriguing. an excerpt is a try before you buy. you just wrote a whole fic. you want people to read the whole fic and enjoy your work. so show them what you have to offer.

what is an example, postmaker

look im not more qualified to give this advice than anyone else, but here's what i do if it helps. i typically pick out a short excerpt and include a short pitch underneath it. that way the reader knows what i sound like and what the fic is about.

here is a baldur's gate 3 fic summary

shadowheart says, “kill l–” “not lae’zel, darling, it’s too obvious. in fact, both of you are banned from killing each other.” astarion thinks for a moment. “in the game, at least.” -- the gang plays fuck, marry, kill.

this fic has a basic premise and hinges on dialogue, so i picked some sample dialogue to demonstrate what my grasp on the character dynamics looks like and then added one line to explain what the fic is about.

here is a death note fic summary (death note spoilers) (i guess)

The night Ryuzaki dies, L appears in Light's bed. -- (every night when light goes to sleep, his dreams place him in a romantic relationship with his newly-dead rival. it makes him sick.)

this fic has a more abstract premise, so i picked a short excerpt to demonstrate what the tone of the fic is (a bit mysterious). then i added two lines: just enough information to explain what the catalyst of the fic is, but no more than that, so that the reader will be intrigued.

here is a persona 5 fic summary

Ren grins. “You want me to date Goro?” “Pretend-date Goro,” Ann corrects. “And make his crush jealous.” “This is not going to work,” Goro says. “Sure, I’ll do it,” says Ren, still grinning. He does his own rendition of Ann’s eyelash bat. “Go out with me, Goro-kun?” “I’m older than you, so show me a little respect,” Goro says crossly. “Our relationship is off to a bad start, Ren-kun.” -- (or: what not to do when you're fake-dating your real crush.)

this fic is based on a premise everyone knows well (fake-dating trope), so i picked dialogue that samples the tone of the fic and of the key relationship so that readers can decide if i write the dynamic in a way they personally vibe with. then i added a line to tell them what the trope is, so that fake-dating trope enjoyers know that's what it is.

anyway. hope that helps

[rosileeduckie]

Tickled to Death

Pact of punishment level: maxed. Time face the scariest enemy you didn’t know lived in hell: your own boyfriend. 

Zagreus “helps” Thanatos get out from between a rock and a hard place. For @vqler, who GOD I’m so sorry I’m late but I hope you like me petrifying and obliterating Thanatos for you in the name of Christmas ❤ Much love to you, much love and thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting this year’s @squealing-santa. Kudos and love to everyone who posted for the event this year, happy holidays, and happy new year!

SFW. Potential warnings: just “returning to writing” writing lol. Hades: Zagreus/Thanatos tickle fic.

Word count: 3,075

~*~

Zagreus had attempted enough escapes from the underworld to know, upon even entering a chamber, when something was immediately off. He daresay he was experienced by this point; there were things he’d come to expect. Hordes of enemies, unleashed with love from his father? Certainly. The unavoidable spiting of and smiting from god-cousins for the favor of other ones? Often. Blood, death, and darkness? Absolutely. What he found waiting for him upon crossing from his most recent ferry to the nearest Asphodelian dock was, in a total understatement, wildly unexpected. 

Save for the familiar sound of bubbling, hissing lava and distant magma falls, the chamber was quiet. Zagreus entered as he always did, light on his burning feet and weapon unsheathed, ready to dodge or strike at a moment’s notice. He needn’t have, though, as he soon realized the chamber was befuddlingly empty. Sure, he’d encountered chambers with no enemies in them, either at first glance because they had just yet to spawn or at all because their presence was dissuaded by some form of boon or blessing. But the chamber he currently found himself in had no healing pool, no shop, and no allies, let alone enemies. It was just plain empty.

So busy with examining the room for some sort of clever trap, Zagreus didn’t even notice the obvious obstacle until he fully tripped over it, sprawling onto the rock with his weapon—Stygius, this time—clattering a couple of feet away. Zagreus looked back to see what had caused him to stumble, and his brow furrowed deeper in confusion. A scythe, large and dramatic and adorned with gold and a piercing purple eye lay abandoned on the rock, its usual wielder, the physically and emotively grey demigod that Zagreus had the biggest soft spot for, was nowhere to be seen. Or was he?

Zagreus turned his head, looking from Thanatos’ weapon to his own. A couple of feet away. His gaze lifted slowly upward. The grey and currently half-rocky skin had blended quite well into the environment like a natural stalagmite, and it wasn’t until he was actually looking for it that Zagreus could see that Thanatos was there, and likely not going anywhere any time soon. 

The prince rose, grabbed and sheathed his sword as he rounded the Thanatos-shaped pillar until he faced the front. Zagreus had been grinning already upon realizing what he’d stumbled upon, but that grin grew all the bigger and brighter when he saw the normally brooding Thanatos looking flustered and positively grumpy.

“Don’t—” Thanatos said, sighing in defeat when Zagreus snorted and burst into bright laughter that he tried and failed to hide behind his hand. “Don’t laugh.”

"I'm sorry, but can you blame me?" Zagreus said, nearly falling into another fit of giggling when he rapped a knuckle lightly against Thanatos' chest and the action produced a satisfying thunk. "What happened?" He asked, but it was fairly obvious: petrification. Gorgons were aplenty in Asphodel, and none of them so friendly as Dusa. Most of Thanatos' body was still affected by the curse, frozen in place and turned a stony stormy grey. By the looks of it and the fact that he could talk, the petrification was naturally draining from Thanatos' form from the top first, leaving the rest of him to wait out the "thawing" process in the stiff and stiffness-inducing position of both arms partially raised as those blocking with his scythe, and both feet floating their usual few inches from the ground.

"I was waiting for your slow ass," Thanatos grumbled, drawing the prince to close his cursory examination with a snort. "Expected for us to have one of our contests, but a gorgon caught me from behind. You'd be standing in her remains, if I hadn't vaporized her."

"Remind me to stay off your bad side." 

"“Stay off.”"

“Shut up.” Zagreus walked a slow circle around Thanatos. He cast his gaze outward, studying the chamber without the blinders of adrenaline and stress that tended to make things look fuzzy. He knew Thanatos was powerful, but—blood and darkness—he’d probably obliterated every shade within the next three chambers, let alone their current one. It was just a guess, but, with how thoroughly every trap had been tripped and every structural fault had been compromised simultaneously, as though from a massive blast, Zagreus was fairly certain that A. he and Thanatos were better than safe from shades for the time being, and B. even caught off guard, Thanatos did nothing at half-intensity. Drama queen. “So how long have you been like this?”

Thanatos grunted, straining to look over his shoulder at Zagreus when the prince moved fully behind him. “I don’t know. I didn’t count, as I was counting on you to be quick. Thanks for picking this one time to be the one where you drag your feet.”

Zagreus didn’t respond to the jab with more than a thoughtful hum. He was too busy watching the petrification dissipate, the cold stone color receding like a lava wave at low tide at a slavug’s pace. Ugh. 

“I don’t know how long I’ve been like this, and I have no idea how long I’ll be like this, since I usually have you to cover me.”

“It’s pretty quick, from the hits I’ve taken.” Of course, Zagreus realized upon thinking it over, he was often petrified while surrounded by enemies, and the threat of being sent back down the Styx made him struggle against the enchantment with all his might. Maybe it was supposed to last a long time; he’d just be thin on patience and break himself out. “Helps if you wiggle.”

Thanatos scoffed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “You are an amazing help.”

“Well, what do you suggest I—?”

“Just—” Thanatos huffed, neck and shoulders visibly straining where he tried to move them, move anything, “just keep watch to make sure nothing respawns. I didn’t even want you seeing me like this, let alone your father’s subjects.”

“Any shade would think they’ve gone mad with the heat before they accepted seeing you like this as real. Or they’d be laughed out of the House for such a ridiculous and unbelievable tale, you know that. But fine,” Zagreus replied with a yawn and set himself on a little guarding route around Thanatos, keeping an eye trained outward for ominous growling, keeping an ear pointed toward Thanatos to listen to his comical grunts and breathy swears of efforts, and letting his mind drift elsewhere.

When Zagreus found himself petrified on his escape attempts, a quick shake and healthy dose of stubbornness was all it took for him to bash his way to freedom and back to slashing shades to dust. There had been one time, though, when he’d found himself without monsters to slay beside the shade who’d landed a hit and then lazily floated away and straight into a fountain of lava. (Zagreus could understand enjoying a hot bath, but yikes…) With no adversaries, Zagreus had lacked his usual incentive to escape as quickly as possible. It was odd, to stop moving so thoroughly, without being able to so much as jiggle his leg or tap his fingers or click his tongue. His companion on-call at that time had been Dusa, and he couldn't think of anyone better to offer advice as to getting un-petrified than her. Luckily, the little gifted doll he kept like a keychain on his weapon didn't need to be physically or verbally invoked—that would make summoning under the onslaught of a dozen rakers or one very maltempered ROUS even more difficult—so he pictured the soft snakey toy, reached out with his mind, and called for his companion. In a flash, Dusa appeared, all smiles and polite shyness and readiness to stone and slaughter any foe that challenged the prince. Of course, there were none, but Zagreus' head had gotten enough feeling back to explain the situation to Dusa. Her advice was the same Zagreus had given to Thanatos in the present: wiggle around a bit. And she had, so helpfully, provided a new incentive via her trusty feather duster.

Recalling the event made Zagreus—well, first he flushed to the roots of his charcoal hair, and he was glad he'd come to stand behind Thanatos at that moment, and then—grin, delighted and devilish. "Actually…"

"What?" Thanatos tried to look over his shoulder at Zagreus once more, and found only the slightest more yield in his stone-struck muscles. He could almost touch his chin to his shoulder. 

Zagreus side-stepped accommodatingly to face his captive companion. "Funny thing is, Than, you're not rock. You can feel just fine." He gave another demonstrative flick to Thanatos' shoulder. "It's a bitch when you're being bombarded with enemy attacks. But it might help you break free. If I just—"

It had been a tactical move for Zagreus to move around to Thanatos’ front. For one, it allowed him easy access to scribble his fingers under death incarnate’s arms unimpeded. For another, it meant he got to see Thanatos’ face morph from dismay to betrayal to amusement (however helped along and hysteric).

“Zagreus!” cried Thanatos, the sound colored with a splash of helpless laughter. Truly, it was funny how his technically perfect defensive position, when without his intimidating weapon, left him totally vulnerable to a little tickling. (Well. A lot of tickling. Zagreus was usually on the other end of these fights, and he had already decided he was not letting such a golden fleece of opportunity go by.)

"Yes, Than dear?" Zagreus teased, smile growing wide enough as his victim's when he saw the way Thanatos' cheeks began to burn violet. It took the strength of Sisyphus, but Zagreus looked away from Thanatos’ face, looking instead at his chest and trailing the progress of the curse. Still slow, but with a bit more stuttering speed. The stony color had dissipated all the way down to about his collarbone, leaving the topmost part of his collar golden and shining once more. “No need to thank me. I can already see the curse is lifting faster. You keep wriggling, I’ll keep helping, and you’ll be out in no time!”

A whine that slipped seamlessly into a squeal punctuated Thanatos’ chortling. “But—!”

The dual-eyed demigod slowed his attack, keeping his fingers and just a featherlight flutter in Thanatos’ armpits. It was far from rare for the pair to engage in all-out tickle wars that could border on brutal, but this may have been a bit much. Zagreus didn’t want to overwhelm Thanatos. He waited for even the slightest inkling of dissent.

Thanatos ducked his head, panting and giggling and bumping his forehead gently against Zagreus’. “If someone sees…” It was a thin excuse, between euphoric lips and yellow eyes burning with excitement, and Thanatos knew it. 

Zagreus definitely knew it, holding Thanatos’ jaw in his hands to pull him in for a kiss that ended when the prince chuckled, low and wicked and delighted. “Darling, with how you smote those shades, we won’t be interrupted for awhile, I’m sure.” Thanatos’ eyes scrunched shut, and he bit his lip valiantly against a renewed fit of giggling when Zagreus’ hands migrated gently down his neck and back to his underarms. “No one but me to relish your screams.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Thanatos teased, teeth gritted in a grin.

Able to bear stillness not a second longer, Zagreus set his fingers dancing once again, spidering viciously beneath Thanatos’ arms. Poor death threw his head back as the villainous onslaught sent laughter bursting from his lungs to echo through the lava chamber. His shoulder muscles strained against stone, but, try as he might, he couldn’t lower his arms at all. Not the tiniest inch, not the slightest bit of reprieve. Zagreus grinned. It was spectacular. 

In self-preservation, Zagreus had tipped his head back from his and Than’s intimate moment seconds before going back to full tickle monster mode, which had been smart with how determined Thanatos was to thrash even with just his head. A minute or two of torture later, Zagreus saw another inevitable point of danger. The curse was ebbing; soon Thanatos was free to his shoulders, and that gave him only the ability to laugh enough for them to shake. As soon as his pectorals were free, Thanatos was going to have means, however clumsy, to fight back. With a sigh lamenting the end of a helpless Thanatos, Zagreus took one last adoring gaze at that tickled-mad, wide-grinning, ecstasy-dizzy face, and he ducked.

A deadweight hand swung over his head, and Zagreus sent one of few thanks to his father for increased difficulty in his pact of punishment. It might have been small, but his instincts were good enough now to avoid what would have been an impressive black eye. Blacker eye. Still, stone-from-the-chest-down was not the way Zagreus preferred his partners, so he couldn’t rest yet. Thanatos was flailing his arms with all his might, but he still couldn’t bend over, so Zagreus was relatively safe lounging against Thanatos’ knee. Reaching as high as he dared, Zagreus gave a few quick and indiscriminate tickles—resulting in beautiful answering shrieks—and latched onto Thanatos’ hips. Instead of pinching, Zagreus held on for dear life and dug into the fabric beneath Thanatos’ belt, burrowing into and scratching the soft sensitive spots that had the potential to make Thanatos purr but were currently making him wail like the damned. 

The longer Thanatos suffered under Zagreus’ malicious mischief, the quicker the curse faded. Zagreus’ wiggling fingers seemed to be fleeing from it as they squeezed down Thanatos’ thighs, skittered behind his knees, and eventually dashed to his soles. Thanatos was fully able to buck now, body all but back to his control. Had Zagreus not laid down on the rocky ground, he likely would have been throttled. As it was, he was still out of reach, grinning up at Thanatos and receiving an exhausted but elated smile in return. There was even almost a flash of fear in death’s eyes when Thanatos realized what Zagreus had planned for the finale of their first—and hopefully not last—curse-breaking session. 

“Don’t worry, Than. This spot ALWAYS makes you dance. If it doesn’t free you, nothing will.” Zagreus was positively beaming up at Thanatos, facing no defense in the form of scrunching toes or kicking feet his usually did even threatening to tickle this spot, and certainly not deterred by the pitiful attempt at a glare the smiley and slumped over Thanatos shot at him. 

Any shade that had even thought about reforming within a mile of them had probably changed their mind and stayed dead a few more minutes upon hearing the howl death let out when two fingers were traced delicately under his toes. Never mind the subsequent guffawing screams he uttered when Zagreus raked five fingers back and forth beneath them while his other hand devastated Thanatos’ soles with some evil scribbling that he could only imagine tickled like hell. Those sounds, even if it did make Zagreus wince and almost want to cover his ears, and the blazing, amazing, unabashed smile that accompanied it was better than any boon the gods could give him. Maybe it was a little devil in him talking, but it was simply divine to see his lover so undone and hysterical, so free even when immobilized, so happy and for only Zagreus to see. He wouldn’t mind staying there, basking in Thanatos’ warm and hysterical glow, for a few dozen winters.

His wish was not granted. He barely got a dozen seconds before Thanatos finally shook free from the petrification, yanking his feet away from Zagreus’ hands and subsequently upending himself, laughter having sapped his strength to the point where he couldn’t even float, collapsing on top of Zagreus’ chest and leaving them both wheezing. 

Once he’d gotten back the wind that had been knocked out of him, Zagreus chuckled, wrapping his arms around Thanatos and holding him close, rubbing smooth and soothing circles into the soft warm skin of his shoulder. So gentle and loving was the attention and little kisses he showered Thanatos with that his next words were a jarring dissonance.

“You know, it usually only takes me a few seconds to break free from a gorgon hit when I really want to,” said Zagreus, and he hummed smugly when he felt Thanatos’ face grow warm where it was suddenly buried in the prince’s neck. “Can’t help but wonder if, maybe, you just didn’t want to escape that badly.” He pressed a grinning kiss to Thanatos’ burning forehead. “Eh, Thana-toes?”

Just as suddenly as he’d been pinned to the floor under Thanatos, Zagreus found himself pinned to the floor, arms raised and locked in the grip of a vengeful death, whose amber eyes were absolutely alight with promise and payback, and smoldering more softly with fondness that could not be more obvious when he rolled them. “I will give you three conditions to escape a slow and very merciless end, after which I will personally drag you back down the Styx and deliver just as merciless a wake-up call.”

Zagreus gulped, his grin growing wobbly and his stomach already tickled by a swarm of prickling nerves and butterflies. “And those would be?”

“One,” said Thanatos, summoning a ghostly indigo shackle to bind Zagreus’ left wrist. “Please don’t tell anyone about this that I work with. I’d like to keep some professional dignity. Two.” Another shackled encircled Zagreus’ right wrist. “Don’t you dare call me that ever again.” 

Zagreus couldn’t help but smile proudly at the purple flush that touched Thanatos’ cheeks at that, albeit his smile swiftly turned giggly and giddy as those two shackles pulled his arms taut. 

“Three.” Thanatos leaned in just to nuzzle Zagreus’ ear and scoff lowly when he tried to scrunch up his shoulders. The wickedly sharp tips of Thanatos’ iron gauntlets grazed gently along Zagreus’ highest ribs, making him jolt and bite down on a yelp, grin already hopelessly wide and nerves tingling in anticipation. Zagreus was sure he lost what color he had, most of it roaring to flush and flicker in his hair and ears, and surer that he’d be cursing Thanatos next time, when the latter bowed close to whisper the final condition.

“Don’t laugh.”

[gutsybitsies]

So deep into Hades brainrot I wanna write Jason wielding Varatha the Eternal Spear, while Nico wields Stygius

[ariadne-mouse]

1, 12, and 21 for the ao3 wrapped meme?

Hello there! I answered #12 here, but here are the others:

favorite fic you wrote this year

My answer changes every time I think about this question. I think the last time it popped up in a meme I cheated and wrote that the top 4 were my favorite for different reasons. But this time I will pick! It's gotta be till human voices wake us, which I finished writing this year though it's not all up on Ao3 yet. Ocean vibes, a deep dive into Essek's mind a little to the left of canon, art collaboration with a good friend, the weaving together of story elements across many chapters (which I hadn't attempted previously) - yeah, it's my favorite. Today :)

21. most memorable comment/review

What a fun question to think about!! I have been lucky to receive many comments on my works that I love and appreciate, long and short, simple and complex. They are all wonderful and have made me smile, laugh, and cry in turn. If I'm going by those that stick in my memory at the moment:

There was the time @thechekhov binge-read all of mercaleb (the complete 60k draft 1) in a single sitting and liveblogged their reactions on Discord, which absolutely made my day and no I do not regret staying up till 3am following along.

I also immediately think of this comment on the fire kept closest by Ao3 user Stygius, who Perceived and described at length many of the devices I used in the story regarding emotional notes, showing vs telling via situations/interactions, repetition and escalation of themes, foreshadowing, and the interconnectedness of details throughout the story... is there anything more exquisite than someone noticing so many of the things you worked so hard on?

[fanfic wrapped meme]

[halcyon-writings]

solace - zagreus/reader

requested: yes (anonymous) // #13 “handle with care” from prompt list a

note(s): once again on the marcy is boo boo the fool and deleted the first draft on accident (which included the ask), hopefully this saves jfkdkj, kinda spoilers for this game as some are referenced, kinda suggestive so 18+ only please! also love that the first thing i write for hades is lowkey horny but shh

all my links are in my pinned post and if you’d like to support my writing please considering donating to my kofi/tip jar!!

You huff in fond exasperation as Zagreus keeps a tight hold against you, keeping you in your shared bed. 

He of course only laughs quietly. pulling you closer, were it possible. And you’re tucked against his bare chest, well, not like either of you were wearing much anyway. 

Of course, you take pleasure in the yelp he makes when you press your cold hands to his sides. 

“Eugh, cold,” He holds your wrists, keeping your hands away as you attempt to free them. 

You raise an eyebrow, a bemused look on your face, “Why colder than the boons from Lady Demeter?”

He gives you an unreadable look, before burying his face into your hair, mumbling a quiet yes, moving down as he left kisses on your temple, moving down your neck, to your shoulders, to your chest-

You roll your eyes, “You big baby.” But you make no move to push him away or even get up at the moment. Finding yourself far too comfy in his arms (and humming in satisfaction as his mouth begins to wander further down your chest and to your navel).

Fingers curling around his dark locks, free from the laurel crown that he usually wore constantly. You tug slightly, smile growing as he lets out a small choked out gasp. Once more sending you a glorified pout. Before he all but pounces on you, trapping you between his arms as look up at him, back on the bed.

“How cruel,” He says in mock hurt.

You sit up slightly, planting a kiss to his nose, “My my, don’t tell me you can’t handle it, Prince.”

Dual colored eyes darken with what you know to be lust. Before he presses his lips to yours in a much deeper kiss. Pulling away with a self satisfied smirk on his face.

You had to always try not to laugh whenever he got turned on to you calling him that.

“I was planning on going to the lounge,” He tilts his head in a half considering motion, before leaning down, his dual colored eyes meeting your own, “However I do think I’d be much better suited to staying here.”

You laugh quietly, “The honor of having you in my chambers.”

“Our chambers,” He corrects smartly.

“Ah yes, ours.”

He brings you into another kiss, this time you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Neither of you would be leaving the bed anytime soon.

He lowers himself into your hold, and you’re reminded of the weight he suddenly carries, more metaphorically than anything.

Leaving here, finding his mother.

For once his breathing evens out before yours. Eyes fluttering shut as he exhales softly in his sleep. Your hand running through his hair twirling small strands between your finger tips. His head lays on your chest.

You don’t know what he has on his mind, and you wish you could press on more, however you know that from the look in his eyes, it was best to give Zagreus time to figure out what he was going to do next. 

You ignore the lingering feeling in the back of your mind, especially when you had seen him inspecting his weapons closely, no doubt preparing on making another excursion.

You know his fate is to continue to try and find a way out of here, regardless of success or failure, and that he’ll face so much, having done so already. But for now, you can only hope that you can provide some form of comfort, solace, for him right now.

And when you wake up alone in your shared bed, his side was already cold and Stygius missing, you ignore the wrenching feeling in your heart. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

[ziggyzagreus]

The Craftsman’s Son

[Note: Hey y’all! So, I mentioned briefly in an ask reply to @silverwindsblog that I have an OC design and layout for Icarus!!! But, since I am not an artist, I have to write a bunch of drabbles about Icarus instead!!

I intend to make this a recurring series, basically just Zagreus meeting Icarus from time to time throughout the regions... It would mean a lot to me if you guys would let me know what you think!!! I have had ceaseless brainworms about Icarus since I started Hades and found he wasn’t in it. Feel free to tell me what you think of him, I can also use prompts/feedback as ideas for more drabbles with him!]

[AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960650/chapters/71065722 ]

[Summary: In Zagreus' many escape attempts, he runs into a mournful Shade who knows a thing or two of failed escape attempts. 

Icarus wanders alone through the levels of the Underworld, too afraid to face his father, even if the man weren't cursed to never see his son again.

Zagreus once again tried to pull some strings with his father's contracts.]

~~~

Chapter 1.

The chambers in which Daedalus forgot his tools were always empty of genuine company when Zagreus arrived – no sign of the master architect before nor following confrontation with any shades commanded to cease the Prince’s forward venture.

Emptier still, were the chambers before much more threatening foes, the terror at the brink of every region. Zagreus had been hoping for Charon’s shop, but instead heard over the bubbling lava of Asphodel the familiar chime of a blessing. Even from a shade, and one who was so meticulous in life now cursed to be somewhat forgetful with his things, the improvements granted by Daedalus’ craft were nothing short of miracles.

Rounding the corner and bounding up the few stairs into that waiting chamber, what Zagreus did not intend to see was a figure already at the tool itself, examining the binding at its handle with such familiarity that the Prince would take to dismiss.

Zagreus slowed his fiery pace and entered the room calmly, though his heart pounded in wary anticipation. “There is usually no one to greet me at these things, mate. I do hope you’re not some new, frightening instillation sent by my father to keep me from getting to that hammer.”

The shade looked up then, wide eyes a dark brown that would be welcoming if not for the hollow expression they took on. The shade was that of a young man, tousled brown locks curling about his ears and in every form of heedless unkempt. The shoulder of his chiton was clasped with one firm buckle, leaving much of his torso bare, as bare as his feet on the thankfully cool stones. Not that shades could feel much, that were, but Zagreus still cringed to think of this young man wandering about the flaming coals with nothing but the skin of his toes as a barrier.

The shade spoke then, and his voice was the deep timbre of a young man past adolescence – yet it carried a wispy, wistful nature of sorrow to soften it. Zagreus’ eyes came back to his face, met those eyes. “No, it would do me no good to believe I could cause you trouble. Just passing through at the same time, so it seems. Would you… like me to fix up that blade for you?”

He gestured toward Stygius, held firmly in the Prince’s grasp, and the creak of wood and leather, the rustle of feathers suddenly drew Zagreus’ focus away from his face and now to the tattered, scorched skeleton of wings fastened to the shade’s arms. The leather straps of harness bound to his shoulders and over his pectorals was clasped with welded metal, but the wood and wax of those wings melted in bubbled white scarring – melted, combined with the skin of his muscled arms and marred back.

“You’re Icarus,” Zagreus blurted out, and instantly regretted the insensitivity. He had heard of the tragedy of Daedelus’ son, heard how the father mourned in sorrow just as much as his anger. Zagreus did not expect to meet the boy himself at all, figured he had been cast into one of the lesser shades wandering Tartarus for some crime of little achievement.

Icarus huffed a soft, bitter laugh, lips curling into a delicate smile. “I am. Does that surprise you? Son of the great Daedalus wandering about, picking up his father’s forgotten tools instead of working at his side.”

Zagreus stepped forward, comfortable now in the knowledge that he would be done no harm, but guilty curiosity swept over him in this unfortunate legend’s presence. “Not really, just… Well, I’ve never seen your father about these parts either. Always seem to miss him, I usually find his hammers to fix up my own weapons and be on my way.”

“Well, leave that to me, then. You look like you could take a rest.”

Zagreus nodded and handed Stygius over, watching as Icarus examined the blade delicately, the muscles of his tattered arms shifting as he held and hefted the blade to check for imperfections. “This will be better done by the hands of an apprentice craftsman himself, no doubt. Thanks, mate. Really.”

“It’s my pleasure, good Prince. Wouldn’t do well for you to be running forward complacent in this blade’s integrity. I’ll have it fixed up in no time.”

Icarus got to work. Zagreus watched, the clanging of metal ringing in his ears, reverberating off the cavernous chamber, the stalactites above and the stone tiled floors, the rock walls surrounding them. Despite the state of his body, Icarus worked quickly, much more surely with the tool and the blade than Zagreus had in his own attempts to improve his weapon. Being in the Underworld alleviated him of the hurts of mortals, and while the lingering scars remained, his movement was uninhibited by anything more than the remaining bulk of the wings.

“Have you seen your father about, Icarus? One day – or, er, night – I’d like to thank him for his skill. Even with only one of his tools and little crafting knowledge, I can usually make something of my weapons.”

Icarus stiffened slightly for a moment, his smooth motions interrupted with a pause. Zagreus cringed, knowing immediately he had broached an uncomfortable topic. Much like when he pestered Eurydice about Orpheus and she grew heated, Zagreus felt a guilt bloom from that curiosity that still did little to quench it.

“I have not,” Icarus replied sorrowfully. “Part of my father’s sentence here is to work without furthering his legacy. And that means I will never complete my apprenticeship.”

The Prince’s brow furrowed, laurel sizzling. “But thousands of mortals read his writings, follow his plans and skills up on the surface, surely that accounts for something? Daedalus’ legacy is everywhere, even in the walls of my father’s house. How does that make sense to be his curse?”

Icarus shrugged and held up the hammer. “He’s not the man he once was. There are flaws in even the finest of his architecture, now. And the other humans cannot copy exactly what his intentions were.”

“Oh. I… think I see. Still though, surely you’re bound to run into him one time or another, picking up after him like this.”

Icarus frowned again. He resumed the work on Stygius, nearing the end of his repairs and brow furrowed in a thoughtful brood. “Forgive my bluntness, Prince, but I don’t think I could face my father even if given the chance. Here is your blade, how does it feel?” He dropped the hammer handle-first into a slim loop on his belt, the weight tugging the leather down just slightly, but seeming at home tucked against the apprentice’s side.

Zagreus acknowledged the subtle suggestion to change topics, and took Stygius. It felt lighter, somehow, and cleaner. He spun it experimentally a few times, rolling his wrist to follow the motion. It felt lighter, but more lethal. He wondered if it would be possible to pierce armor, now. “Razor sharp.”

Icarus smiled softly, a pitiful twitch of the expression registering on his sad face. “It is. Do be careful, good Prince. I… I know you are determined in your path, so I will not tell you to turn back. But do not underestimate your foes. No amount of confidence makes you impervious to error.”

“I will be careful, thank you, mate. Where will you be next?”

“Somewhere my father had been before, most likely. I hope we do not meet too often, for your success in escaping this place. I know a thing or two of failed escapes.” Icarus looked down, once again exhaling that brief huff as if he had said something painfully ironic; in all fairness, he had. But Zagreus knew it not his place to take any humor in this shade’s cruel fate.

Zagreus nodded, and rest Stygius on his shoulder, walking ahead while waving back. “Until next time then, Icarus. I wish you well in the meantime.”

To be continued...

[stygiusfic]

WIP Wthursday

@lakrisrot tagged me back almost exactly a month ago, after I tagged her two months ago, so I figure it's time to get a snippet posted!

this past month I've been very brave and stuck to a single WIP. it's more of my custom durge Silence and Shadowheart, the next story in this series.

Silence didn't dream anymore, not since the Temple of Bhaal. He closed his eyes at night and he opened them in the morning—often in the same position he'd fallen asleep in—and he never woke up to blood on his hands. It unsettled him sometimes, how the world went away while he slept. Like he was forgetting something important. In the morning everything came back piecemeal; this time ushered in by an uncomfortable soreness in his side, where the ground was bumpy underneath. The first thing Shadowheart said when she stirred, huddled close under their dew-damp blanket, was, "Ow. I was right about sleeping out here. I feel sore all over." "I think I slept on a rock," Silence mumbled in response, and she slipped a hand under his body to feel the hard ground, and said, "Goddess, you really did. How did you not notice?" "I don't know. I wasn't uncomfortable." "I don't believe you." Now she was laughing. He closed his eyes again, basking in the sound. "People sleep through all sorts of things." "Not this! Move over, you're going to bruise all down your—" Silence pushed aside the blanket and rolled over to lie on top of her, bracketing her with his weight on his forearms. He grinned down at her. "Is this better?" "You tell me," she teased; heart-stopping.

tagging @sharkodactyl, @kmackatie, @saturdaysky, @ver-writes, @toushindai and again @lakrisrot (but only if you answer after mid-April).

[cinnawrites]

The Hunt For The Prince

A/N; Heya!! This is the first chapter to a prompt I’ve wanted to write for forever! I gotta say, fantasy AUs are always the best, so why not make it long? Minor Hades spoilers, specifically about Zagreus’ mother.

Summary: Prince Zagreus, the son of King Hades finds a letter regarding his mother and goes off on a journey to seek her out. His father, enraged by this, sends off Thanatos, a trained assassin, to fetch him. Little does he know, Thanatos may or may not want to find out about Persephone as well.

Zagreus slicked his hair back when he was finally away from his home, hiding behind a tree. He tried to look back to find the castle, but it only seemed like a distant memory. A bittersweet memory he’d say.

He wasn’t supposed to be out here, this far out from the castle, his kingdom. Yet here he was, and he did not regret going against the rules one bit. He would even say he felt relieved, like a huge weight was pulled off his shoulders after sitting there for years. Finally being away from his overbearing father, Hades, and starting a new chapter in his life; the quest for his mother.

Earlier that day, Zagreus had snuck into his father’s bedroom and found a letter regarding the whereabouts of his mother. He knew he had to look for her as soon as he could. He’d gone on for too long wondering where she could have been all these years and now he finally had a vague idea. She was still out there, alive and well, but his father never said anything about her for reasons unknown to him. Zagreus had snuck out of castle grounds for brief moments, but now was the time for him to go on a full out journey.

Zagreus continued pushing through the forest, moving branches out of the way and watching out for any plants he could trip over. He was making his way through an unfamiliar part of the forest surrounding the kingdom so as to not attract too much attention. This also meant there wasn’t a path in sight, he simply had to make his own. It was dead in the night, so no one would notice immediately that he was gone. He wouldn’t have as many traces left behind, which just made everything all the more convenient. It would take ages for people to find him now.

As he continued walking through, he felt a sharp pain in his foot, catching him off guard. He looked down only to see that he had stepped on a particularly thorny branch. Perhaps he should have actually worn shoes for once. He always hated wearing any form of footwear. He brushed off the pain and thorns, looking carefully ahead of and around him. An opening quickly made itself visible, an area in which he could probably rest for the night.

Zagreus settled himself down in one spot, ridding it of branches and leaves. He didn’t bring much other than his sword, Stygius, which was probably the biggest mistake he could have made. There was a village nearby, Tartarus, so he could easily get supplies from there. Still, Zagreus was feeling a bit hungry. He made a note to find Tartarus as soon as possible.

He leaned back onto a tree, trying to get himself comfortable enough to sleep. He had no idea what time it was, all he knew was that he needed some rest. After a while, he finally found a position in which he felt comfortable in and drifted off to sleep.

Zagreus woke up the next morning feeling less refreshed than he would if he were at home. He didn’t think it would be this bad sleeping outside, but he made sure he would get used to it. Even if the nights would be rough, it wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goal. 

He got up and stretched, feeling a bit sore. He picked up his sword, keeping it close to him. Who knows what could happen, right? Zagreus reached into his pocket and read the letter his mother had sent to him once more, just to refresh her words in his mind.

“Hades,” The letter read, “I can no longer tolerate my life here in this place. So, I am leaving, even if it kills me. I won’t be returning to Olympus. If there is a place I belong in this world, it must be somewhere between heaven and hell. Perhaps it’s on the coast and has a little garden. Take care of Cerberus, I shall miss him.”

“Oh mother,” Zagreus said aloud, sighing heavily, “I wonder what was so terrible at home that made you want to leave…”

He began walking through the first yet again, this time making it much further than he expected. He was also out, almost away from everyone, and certainly closer to Tartarus. He began to think back about the house, about the people he’s run away from, and tried to find a reason as to why his mother left. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Back at Hades’ castle, Dusa, the family’s personal maid, was doing her rounds cleaning up. She had just finished dusting off the windows, which was only a minimal chore compared to all her other ones. She wasn’t tired at all though, a good day of work was always this long.

Her next chore was to clean Zagreus’ room, though he hates it when she tries to clean up after him. 

“Maybe he’ll let me in this time,” Dusa said to herself, smiling. She always hoped to get closer to him, and this was the first step.

She knocked on his bedroom door lightly, ignoring how freakishly tall it was. No one answered. Dusa waited a few more moments before knocking once more. Even if he didn’t want her to come in and clean, he would still say something. Anything, really. Maybe even greet her before pushing her away. 

She waited and waited, but Zagreus didn’t say a word.

“Prince Zagreus?” She asked, knocking harder this time. She began to get worried, why wasn’t he answering? It wasn’t like him to sleep in either, she feared the worst. She quietly let herself in, only to find a messy room, with no Zagreus in sight.

He was gone. Completely gone. 

She looked around frantically in search of a note, or anything to lead to his whereabouts. Despite the mess, there didn’t seem to be any hints about where Zagreus could have gone.

“Prince Zagreus? Where are you?” She called out once more, though it was pointless. If he had gone out for the day, she would have been informed. He would’ve greeted her on his way out; he always did. The silence in the castle was deafening and Dusa couldn’t take it anymore.

She ran over to the king’s throne room, frantic. Dusa was afraid of how he would react to the situation, but she needed to tell him. She didn’t have any other choice. She was allowed entry by the guards after briefly explaining the situation. Hades looked up at her, not very pleased.

“Lord Hades!” Dusa said, out of breath, “The prince he’s-!”

“You are supposed to be working,” Hades cut her off.

“I know I should be, but it’s about Zagreus he’s-” Dusa took a deep breath, swallowing her fear of the king, “He’s gone! He isn’t in the castle and I can only fear the worst!”

“He’s what?” Hades got up from his throne, practically fuming. He walked past Dusa, exiting the throne room and making his way to his bedroom. His steps were fast and heavy, he was getting more and more aggravated. He had an idea of what Zagreus would have done, but he surely hoped it wasn’t the case.

Hades looked into the drawer at his bedside table in hopes that his most precious item would still be there. Alas, the letter, her letter, was gone.

Zagreus had taken it.

And he was looking for her.

For Persephone.

Hades was enraged beyond belief, his simple gaze managing to scare the guards and others in sight. He looked around for the boy, even though he was sure he was on his way to look for her. 

Hades thought about what he could do. He couldn’t just leave the kingdom unattended and go off to look for his son. He couldn’t ask just about anyone to retrieve him. He only had one option left to his disposal.

“I never thought it would come to this, but we need him. He’s the only one suitable for this kind of job,” Hades said to the top guards. They seemed confused, looking over to each other several times.

“Who, my lord?” One of them asked.

Hades smiled, a rare sight for anyone in the kingdom to ever witness, before saying;

“Thanatos.”

[date posted; 07.02.21]

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Hidden Gems: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have our recurring hidden gem list! Look under the cut for twelve great fics that have 150 kudos or less, and don't forget to kudos or comment if you like them!

Falling by CookiePirate51 (1805, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

In an alternate universe where the trip to Aeor between Caleb and Essek never happens, and they find their way to one another, anyway.

Reccer says: It's extremely sweet and atmospheric

The Legend of Widogast Manor by royalgreen (6620, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Essek is seeking magic and finds a mysterious manor, with an even more mysterious inhabitant

Reccer says: Two people in a secluded gothic manor, everyone's got secrets, and it's very sexy

Mirror Mirror by grassandcitrus (72276, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

After destroying the T-dock in the ruins of Aeor, Caleb and Essek are transported into an alternate timeline where Bren never broke and the Mighty Nein never met. Now they have to reassemble their friends inorder to get back home while also avoiding their alternate evil selves and navigate their complicated feelings for each other.

Reccer says: It gives a great insight as to what could have been if the M9 never came together. I love it and thinks it's very underated.

Lichtenberg Figures by Twistmalchik (1599, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Male Pregnancy, No one is actively pregnant in the fic, but past pregnancy is alluded to.

Caleb helps Essek find a way to relieve the ache in his chest after their daughter begins weaning.

Reccer says: I liked it!

mother/tongue by anxietiefling (1624, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek play with their daughters and speak to them in their first languages

Reccer says: It's beautiful, and has so many feelings about language, comprehension, loss, and migration.

the lovliest lies of all by royalgreen (1026, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

How do you rescue someone who doesn't want to be rescued? Essek doesn't know, but he's going to try.

Reccer says: It's very spooky and atmospheric and poetic and haunting

the hole in the stone by MinnesotaBruja (13243, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Death of a Pet

Essek takes a position as a lighthouse keeper on a remote island after Cognouza. During that time, he writes letters to Caleb.

Reccer says: The yearning is top tier and the ending is so sweet. It's an incredible story.

Dancing Cheek to Cheek by soot_and_salt (3871, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Ballroom dancing AU. Enough said

Reccer says: Sweet and full of yearning. A whirlwind little romance with Essek's arrogance and weariness colouring every interaction with Caleb. It's just so swoon worthy and the ending had me melting. Also nails that liminal hotel feeling.

foreign diplomacy by stygius (1087, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

The Shadowhand helps Bren Aldric Ermendrud dispose of his master.

Reccer says: Scourger AU! Killing Ikithon has never been this sexy... very fun to see the dance of mistrust and attraction between Bren and Essek here! there's a sequel too

castle-temp red wine by 06151126 (12759, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Part of a flawless and fascinating F1 racing AU, Essek invites Caleb to a fancy den dinner where everything falls apart

Reccer says: I don't know anything about F1 but this fic is so insanely compelling! The characterizations are perfect, the tension is thick, and I'm dying to see what happens next. If you like intricate, realistic AUs, definitely give this one a try!

when the cat’s away by Anonymous (3192, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Under negotiated scene, Getting caught

Caleb catches Essek in a bit of comprimising position when he comes home early.

Reccer says: It's a complicated situation for Essek and Caleb that is written in such a intriguing and engaging way! The dynamics are so well done. (Also it's very hot.)

in the heart of every galaxy by boynamedhela (1809, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb gets a series of gifts that feel more like threats.

Reccer says: It is very sweet take on cultural differences.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast.

Check out the previous Hidden Gem Recs Lists here [1] [2] [3]

Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we'll have a list of humorous fics!

[lifcblood]

─  the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to, reflecting back a spitting image of OH SE-HUN  -  but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of BRINGING YOUR MOTHER PERSEPHONE BACK HOME TO THE UNDERWORLD strikes you.  perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse. you reassure yourself  -  you’re ZAGREUS,  a TWENTY-FIVE YEAR OLD TATTOO ARTIST whose virtue lies in your KIND-HEARTED & PERSISTENT , although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite REBELLIOUS & SELF-DEPRECATING,  and you’re associated with BEING BORN WITH MISMATCHED EYES ; ONE A FIERY RED AND ANOTHER A BRIGHT GREEN, SURROUNDED BY SHADES AND SKELETONS OBSERVING YOUR EVERY MOVE, & CRAWLING OUT OF THE RIVER STYX by those around you.  suddenly,  however,  you’ve found THE STYGIAN BLADE KNOWN AS STYGIUS on your person - was that always there? from the moment you leave the funhouse,  memories from your life in HADES have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you.  you can almost hear HOLY ROLLER by SPIRITBOX following in your wake.

QUICK FACTS —

FANDOM: hades — a dungeon crawler video game about greek mythology FULL NAME: zagreus ALIASES: zag, little hades, prince of the underworld, god of rebirth, god of hunting AGE: twenty-five physically but he’s also immortal DATE OF BIRTH: unknown PLACE OF BIRTH: house of hades, deepest depths of the underworld SPECIES: god SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic PROFESSION: testing the underworld's security HEIGHT: five foot nine EYES: he inherited his parent’s eyes. the right one is a fierce red like his father, while the left one is a vibrant green like his mother. HAIR: jet black in color and usually styled to be swept to one side BUILD: muscular, toned UNUSUAL FEATURES: his feet and ankles are infernal. which essentially means they’re always radiating heat and glowing as a result. they give off sparks of fire when he runs or walks due to the similarities to lava. it’s important to also note that the flames are harmless so nothing will burn as a result of his physical feature. PARENTS: hades (father), persephone (mother), nyx (mother figure) GRANDPARENTS: demeter, chaos COUSINS: athena, artemis, ares, dionysus, hermes UNCLES: zeus, poseidon AUNTS: hera PETS: cerberus BEST FRIEND: thanatos COLLEAGUES: aphrodite, achilles, hypnos, megaera, dusa, orpheus, charon SIBLINGS: an only child but considers ransom drysdale an older brother

LIFE IN CANON —

Zagreus is the only child born to Hades and Persephone. Although at first he had been stillborn. The Fates decides that Hades shouldn’t have an heir and Persephone ran away in grief but refused to return to her birthplace on Olympus since she disliked all the bickering the Gods do. She would settle in Greece to grieve and Demeter covered the mortal realm in an endless winter for her daughter.

Nyx would bring Zagreus back to life with her powers in an extremely lengthy process and would become his mother figure. Hades raises him on his own alongside the Goddess of the Night but never speaks of Persephone and doesn’t let anyone in the House to say her name either.

The prince would befriend the Fury Megaera and the God of Death Thanatos when they’re all children . . . .  the latter ending up becoming his best friend. It’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? Zagreus is the God of Rebirth and being so close to Death. They’re such opposites but every time he would die and be reborn again he could count on his best friend to bring him to the River Styx.

However, once growing older Zagreus grew bored of always being stuck in the House of Hades. He wanted to explore the Underworld and try to see what life is outside of their realm. His father didn’t approve of this and would try to stop him in this ridiculous quest. He would die several times trying to make his escape but due to the nature of his ability to be reborn he just ends up stepping out of the Styx and hanging his head when realizing he’s back home again.

Achilles trained him and has become like an idol to Zagreus. Everything he knows about combat comes from him and doesn’t think there’s anyone is a better fighter than Achilles. Which gave him at least a little chance in making it through the obstacles arranged by Hades to keep him home. The other Olympians aided him to give him an additional advantage.

One night, Zagreus would discover a letter left by his birth mother which gave him even more motivation to make it out of the Underworld to try and find her. He needed to see Persephone at least once. It’s bittersweet when the boy is finally able to do this as he’s forever bound to the Underworld like his father and only has limited time in Greece with his mother. He would die of natural causes and Thanatos would have to come get him since he is Death after all. Zagreus would fight his way out again and again and again just to get more time with Persephone. He wanted to learn everything about her, why she left, and just exist there with her for their limited amount of time allowed.  

After numerous visited, Zagreus was able to convince his mother to come home by reminding her of the bonds of family. Zagreus and Persephone sail back to the House of Hades by Charon. Persephone resumed her duties as Queen of the Underworld and Hades finally respects his son again. The escape attempt turned into a job of finding security vulnerabilities throughout their realm. Their family was reunited again and for once? They’re all happy again. If Zagreus was going to be bound to roam their realm for eternity then he’ll do it happily knowing his parents are both here too.  

Persephone would reconcile with the other Gods and Goddesses by inviting them to a feast in the House of Hades. They all thought that Hades and Persephone eloped and had Zagreus. She avoided telling them about her resentment of Olympus and told a lie that she could only leave the Underworld a few months out of the year due to eating pomegranate seeds. The Olympians accept the lie but know the truth and just want to move on.

There’s a lot of lore that comes along with playing someone tied to Greek Mythology so . . .  I’m not going to cover everything but this is the plot from the game! All other Greek Mythology related lore can be assumed to have happened but I’m not going to write it out.

LIFE IN ALUCARD —

THE ITEM FOUND ON HIS PERSON:

STYGIAN BLADE also known as STYGIUS and the blade of the underworld. It’s a longsword that belonged to Lord Poseidon before he opted for his trident. It’s one of the finest weapons to ever be wielded and played a role in sealing the titans deep within the deepest recesses of tartarus. Achilles gave the sword to Zagreus since he knew Hades wouldn’t pay any mind. You could feel how eager Stygius was to have a partner again and be used in a fight at the time.

Zagreus doesn’t understand where the sword came from but something told him to hold onto it. He currently has it mounted over his television in his house.

ANIMAL FAMILIAR:

Zagreus has a puppy version of Cerberus living with him. They have vibrant red fur and three heads. They’re a very good boy but have attachment issues. If Zag is gone for too long then some of the furniture in his home will get destroyed. Each head has their own personality!

ORIGIN:

Zagreus was born into an extremely wealthy family. He’s an only child which meant getting away with most of his shenanigans growing up. They wanted their son to accomplish great things which meant that they spoiled him. Whatever the boy wanted? He got.

You could imagine their disappointment when Zagreus expressed an interest in art from a young age. He didn’t care about playing sports or preparing to take over the family business. Always more content to sit down with a fresh pad of paper and pencil. He become quite the talented artist in adulthood, working toward being better with everyday. Zagreus even does some graphic design commissions.

His true passion is tattooing. Which you could imagine the look on his parents’ faces when they were told that their only son wanted that as his career. Their love outgrew their disapproval though and would support this venture just as long as Zagreus still came to mingle at events. His body quickly becomes covered in ink which often makes him the talk of the party.

IF YOU CLICK HERE THERE’S REFERENCE TO AT LEAST THIRTEEN OF HIS TATTOOS.

He’s a soft man despite appearances and most people know it. Zagreus often feels like something is missing from his life but eventually it all makes sense when the memories from his canon lifetime come flooding back in. How could he forget? How do you come to terms with realizing something you’ve been reading about all your life is suddenly true? He knows that going up to people and saying “hey i’m a god” wouldn’t get many reactions where it’s believed. So, Zagreus pushes it deep down and focuses on his tattoo appointments and tries to deal with it on his own.

[beansiewritesstuff]

Zagreus vs The Mortal Coil

Lmao okay so let me explain! So maybe five or so months ago I got really into the game Hades, and I did that thing I do where I immediately create like five thousand OCs and a new plotline for it because I love it so much. This is an idea that spawned from my thoughts on what shenanigans might find Zagreus once he starts exploring more of the surface in the time he has there. I also wanted to explore how he might interact with mortals, and what he thinks of them considering he’s only got what others tell him to go on. I decided a baby would be an interesting dynamic for him, and an opportunity for him to grow further beyond what the events of the game allow. Still debating whether to write the baby as a reader insert or a character of my own? Also I wanted to test out writing using 1st person so consider this an experiment. Next part will be from Zag’s PoV again, but I think I’ll write from the human’s PoV once I age them up a little more.

So with all that said, I just wanted to go ahead and tag @heckpuppyy because we’ve been talking recently and I like you. This isn’t quite the Aconite piece I have planned for you, but it is Hades so I hoped that you would still enjoy it! Happy reading everybody!

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

Suppose this whole situation may be entirely my fault.

It’d been a good while since I last died on an attempt. Long enough that I started to get bored. Making it to the surface had become commonplace for me, and so I began exploring for the brief time I’m able to exist up there. I’d just pick a direction and walk. Which is how I stumbled into this. Perhaps father was right when he said my casual curiosity would get the better of me someday. I always sort of agreed with him; though I never expected something like this. Then again, who but the Fates would?

Mortal behaviour has always been strange, at least to me. Or foreign, I guess. Talking to willing Shades and reading stories of them does little to help expand my understanding. Still, as I think most Gods are, I can’t help but to be intrigued by them. There’s almost a bizarre beauty in their existence, short though it may be. Yet there are also things about them that confuse me to bitterness. Things that strike too close to my father’s behaviour for my liking. Such as, for instance, leaving children out in the mountains to succumb to Demeter’s Winter.

I really hadn’t been walking long before I heard the cries. At first, I thought it might have been an animal in pain. Though I’d heard as many instances of that as I had human infants crying, at the time. It was very odd, this immediate tug in my chest at the noise. Mother later called it “maternal instinct”, though I’m fairly sure that term only applies to mothers. Nevertheless, that feeling was what led me to the clearing in which the squalling creature lay. For a moment, I’ll admit, I was stupefied. Why would a mortal so helpless be so far out here? I thought to myself. And where are its caretakers? Surely it didn’t transport its self all the way up here from the human village. It took a particularly loud hiccupping cry from the child to snap me out of my frozen state, and I found my legs working of their own accord to move the rest of me closer to the small lump of cloth and reddened, tear-stained cheeks. It stared back up at me when I leaned over it, its next wail caught in its throat momentarily at the sight of me. I worry for a moment that I might be scaring it, before my chest tightens in a strange emotion when it whimpers pitifully and reaches out to me. Its chubby little fingers make grabbing motions, and the muscles in my arms flex with the temptation to pick it up. A searching glance around confirmed that no other humans were around, which meant it would be up to me to guide this infant to whatever fate had been written for it.

Perhaps that was too prideful of me? After all, had I thought a bit more thoroughly, I may have reminded myself of my considerable lack of child-rearing experience. This is addition to the predicament of surface dwellers being unable to survive in the Underworld, and me being unable to live on the surface for more than an hour or so.

Alas, thanks to my haste in accepting the self-ascribed responsibility, I gave only just enough thought to this fact to move the child to a small hollow near the doors to father’s realm. It had belonged to an animal at some point, but now laid barren and slightly unkempt. I had just enough time to check it the unpleasant eight-legged surface creatures I’ve heard tell of being poisonous, and to stash my new ward away safely from the elements, before the Styx took me back home. It was only upon emerging from the Pool that it struck me the weight of my decision. A baby. A human baby. One that would have simply died had I not intervened. One that now requires me to fight my way back up to ensure it’s survival. One that will need food and shelter and attention. One that… Now belongs to me.

 “Blood and darkness!” Stygius slips slightly from my grip as it catches inside the Wretched Lout I just impaled. I readjust my hold and heave it out of the sickly yellow flesh, waving it slightly to flick some of the congealing black blood from it. I have no time to stop this run. I’ve boxed myself into such a situation I barely had time to check in with everybody before leaving. I neglected to share my secret just yet, both for a loss as to how exactly to do so, as well as the worry that they would try to talk me out of it. Forgetting this whole thing seems the logical thing to do, and part of me wishes I would. And yet there is another part, small but overwhelming, that screams You must hurry. You must return to it. You must protect it! And it would seem to be the part that’s winning.

The sound of a Boon echoes through the small chamber, though when I look to it, it’s one I’ve never seen before. A deeper blue than from Poseidon, with some kind of feather symbol. When I reach out to it, the sound of a baby’s laughter reverberates through my entire body it seems. “In the name of Hades, uhh… Hello?” The glowing orb expands and bursts in a cloud of feathers to reveal the visage of a beautiful woman. She dons the same colour of chiton as her blessing, with rich green and gold patterning. Her green eyes remind me of mother and Demeter. Mother… “Lady Hera. It’s… An honour.” The stoic looking woman extends her hand without speaking, three blue feathers appearing in front of me. These are different from the regular gifts I receive. It weighs on my mind that my decision will factor heavily into my care for the infant. Hera is the Goddess of childbirth and motherhood, now may be my opportunity to get the best advice possible. It does occur to me that she doesn’t seem the most talkative. But I don’t have much choice, I need to get the most out of this encounter, considering how out of my element caring for another being is. “Lady Hera, I apologise for my boldness, but I must beseech your assistance in the matter of- “

“I sense your predicament, young Prince. I ask you not request more of me than I volunteer, though I can say I am here to help. For now, choose a gift to help you with your ward, and be on your way.” Seems that would be our conversation over. I straighten my stance and properly look over the feathers, now adorned with golden etching in the shape of familiar yet foreign words. “Mother’s Intuition” “Fruits of Labor” “Calming Touch” All seem useful, but if Hera is truly planning to stick around to help me, I suppose my decision now doesn’t hold as much weight as my initial assumption. “Calming Touch” seems it would be the most useful to me as of now. As my fingers brush the barbs of the feather, the “eye” blinks at me, and the other two disappear in small clouds of bubbles. More childlike laughter sounds from them as they pop, and that feeling is back in my chest as I clutch the feather to my chest. The illusion of Hera nods her approval before it too dissipates in a bright flash that has me blinking away the spots in my vision as I stumble toward the next door. I fasten the feather to my tunic and continue on.

 Tartarus passes in a whirlwind, my haste extending to Stygius, as if the infernal blade can sense the situation. Soon the river Phlegethon bubbles and hisses around me, the sulfur stinging my eyes. I leap over a steaming break in the land and carry the momentum through another Slamdancer. More Bloodless spawn behind me and I can only muster a sigh in response. Seems this repetition is starting to wear on my mind. Or perhaps it’s my impatience. Whatever it is, it continues to plague my mind with chilling images of the little creature I have stashed away, the hovel barely big enough to fit it. The idea of what might happen should I delay spurs me forward, not even paying attention to the Boon I accept. The orange-y glow makes me think Hermes, until a deep, rough voice booms above me. Acting on impulse I flinch back and bring Stygius in front of me. The man peering down at me with one eye under his brow scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. Feeling only a little silly, I clear my throat and lower the blade. “Apologies, Lord. I’m distracted by the heat of this place; I meant no offense.” This seems enough for the God and the jaded look to his eyes falls away to leave a particular type of exhaustion. He nods in understanding and lifts a large hand towards me. I notice something clenched in his scarred grip, and when his fingers uncurl to reveal parchment not unlike the House Contractor’s, with similar projects marked on it, a realization dawns on me. I take the paper, my eyes drawn to the blueprint labelled “Sturdy Cottage”. It seems my fears for the infant’s safety are unnecessary, seeing as I happen to have the four diamonds needed to purchase the construct. “I think this will be of much use, Lord Hephaestus. I greatly appreciate your generous assistance.” The God seems mildly taken aback by my thanks but retrieves the ledger and diamonds with a nod at my decision. Sparks fly as Hephaestus leaves, hopefully straight for the surface to begin building the cottage. It feels as if a deep shadow has been cleared from my mind, and my thoughts of the mortal are considerably lighter than before.

 Elysium provides, as always, the most resistance to my journey up. The Exalted are ferocious in their desperation for battle, charging at me with no hesitation upon spawning. I’ve already taken several hits from those blasted Flamewheels by the time I reach the next chamber with something new. At first, I fretfully believe it to be a Trial of the Gods, but upon a closer look, it seems to be a joint blessing of some kind. I recognize the wheat symbol for a Boon of Demeter, but it overlaps a peacock feather. Are the Goddesses aware of this? I hesitantly accept, and the orb expands as any other. In an icy flash filled with children’s laughter, the likenesses two Goddesses stand before me. Demeter smiles down at me, and I might be tempted to call it warm. Whereas Hera stands tall and proud as she did on our first meeting. “Zagreus, I believe you’ve already met my sister. She’s come to me with an interesting proposition; one I believe you should be made privy to.” Demeter summons a true stalk of wheat, golden and shining, and allows me to take it. I twist the stalk between my fingers, watching the little barbs blur together as they spin. “Bury this where you wish. The snow and ice will melt from that place, and your child will be safe from the elements. I know not why you would waste pity on such a creature, but perhaps it will be of future use to you. Good luck, grandson.” I hold the wheat tightly to me as they leave, my heart pounding at the idea of bending the very rules Demeter herself has put in place for this one mortal infant. A very small part of my mind wonders if this is even worth it, but like all my doubts, it gets swept away at the prospect of knowing this creature will be safe. I pin the wheat next to the feather and wonder what my next gift may be as the door clunks shut behind me.

 I’ve almost made it. Just need to get past father and I can get to work. He’s not making it easy, though he never does, and it’s especially frustrating this time. I almost lose my footing on the snow as I dodge another swing. Father scoffs and begins powering up for his stupid laser move. I thank the stone stump for the umpteenth time as I crouch behind it. On the bright side, father only needs a few more hits before the Styx overwhelms him. “You seem especially antsy this attempt, boy. What mischief are you plotting? What could possibly be so important up here?”

“Far be it for me to allow you to ruin my fun, father.” I smirk as Stygius makes contact and slices a deep black gash under the Underworld Lord’s second rib. Father grunts and smacks me away with the blunt end of his spear. The throb is dull and adds no more stress to my body. This may be one of our best fights, on my end anyway. “Come now father, surely you have more important paperwork than this?” I pause to charge up another Bloodstone, distantly registering the hiss of the disturbed snow under my feet. “Watch that tongue of yours, boy. You’ll still have to deal with the consequences when you inevitably return to my House!” My cast lands a hit square on his chest as he finishes his threat, and he falls to his knee. “Until then, father.” I’m not sure if he heard me over the rush of the Styx, but my hope that he did is tinged in bitterness. Turning away, I hurry to collect my Bloodstones and cross the threshold into Greece.

 The mountain seems to be caught in a storm of some kind. The cruel winds howl and whistle past my ears, the sheets of snow all but completely ELEPHANT my vision. I hurry along the treeline, thankful the entrance hollow is facing the direction the wind is blowing. I wonder if Demeter chose this direction intentionally, or if she may have been attempting to wipe out the infant before I had the chance to truly commit to my task. I decide she isn’t that heartless, not now anyway, and kneel beside the hollow. The crying of the infant is still going strong, so I at least can be sure it’s alive. I adjust my tunic so that I can tuck the child close to my body and reach to scoop it up. As I hold it close, my eye catches on the glint of silver around its neck. A chain, specifically one of a necklace. The charm is familiar, but I can’t quite place its origin. A sphere overlapped at each side by two crescent moon shapes. Whatever it is, I’m fairly sure it has something to do with father. Why else would the infant be left so close to his realm? The mortal whimpers quietly, curling in on itself. I need to get it out of this storm. My fingers wrap around the wheat as I stand. Surely Hephaestus would have built the cottage close by, for his own convenience at the very least. I decide to move back closer to the doors, so I can at least avoid the worst of the storm. I must hurry if I’m to find the cottage before my time is up.

The trees seem to fall away off to the right, as the land dips toward a river that’s frozen over. Perhaps I can at least clear this spot for now with Demeter’s gift. The banks flatten out before rising high at the sides, shielding the small valley from the wind. If I look closely, I can see the water rushing underneath the ice layer. I’m just starting to reach for the wheat when I notice a dark shape looming from the opposite side of the river. The cottage! Well, less of a cottage and more of a large house. Praising Hephaestus, I stumble over the frozen river, eyeing the places where the ice sizzles. The hill proves easy to scale, even with the protesting infant at my breast, and the door to the building gives easily to my push, the wind whooshing through the doorway to paint the inner floor white. It’s considerably harder to fight the wind to get the door closed again, but once it is, I’m free to sit against it and bask in the slightly warmer temperature. Even my infantile ward seems more pleased with the new surroundings, though it still hiccups and whines unhappily at me. “Come now, surely a little gratitude’s been earned here?” The mortal cries in response and I can’t help the exasperated laugh that escapes me. Suppose it’s entitled to its opinion, considering the state it’s in. It spurs me to stand again, scanning the room for a place to rest the mortal until I get back. Hephaestus did quite the good job with the construct. Sturdy walls, a strong roof, and windows sealed shut with thick glass to keep out the chill. The room we’re in now is spacious, with an open doorway leading to what reminds me of the House kitchens, and an arched entrance with a step up to a section that might be a lounge? I can see other closed doors that I’ll have to explore later, but for now I move into the kitchen and readjust the infant’s swaddle so that it can lay comfortably. It watches me in what I think is curiosity, though it’s kind of hard to tell with the tears in its eyes. I need to figure out what it needs next. Food? Let’s go with food. What do humans eat? What do human babies eat? Perhaps Hera will have answers. The pull of the Styx is stronger now, and I know I don’t have much longer. I shouldn’t let it see this. I lean over the cocoon of snot and tears and cheeks. The cries quieten as two big brown eyes stare mournfully up at me. “Abahaa!” It babbles and tries to reach for me. I meet its little hand in-between us with a finger. It’s fingers barely wrap around mine. It’s an overwhelming feeling; how small this creature is. Small and helpless and fragile and mine. I carefully remove the infant’s hand and tuck it back in its wrappings so I can leave. I’m able to securely close the door behind me and take but a few steps forward before the Styx arrives. Crawling out of the river is getting easier with my new motivation.

“Don’t worry, little thing. I’ll be back soon.”