Summary: Zagreus commissions the house contractor for a special project.
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Zagreus gripped the door frame with one hand as he peered out into the hall from his bedroom. Nyx was nowhere to be found. He frowned, wondering where she might have gone. His father’s voice echoed out from the Great Hall, startling him. The shades paid him no mind as he slipped out into the hall and ducked behind a pillar to eavesdrop. He heard Orpheus’ small voice reply. He strained to hear what he was saying over the murmuring of the shades. It seemed the bard had once again lost his inspiration and Lord Hades was scolding him for it. Zagreus felt bad for him. He hoped he and Eurydice weren’t going through another rough patch.
Achilles was making his rounds, trusty spear in hand. The other shades greeted him as he passed, to which he simply smiled and nodded in return. Achilles’ reputation demanded enough respect for the man on its own, but he also carried the telltale air of kingliness about him. Every breath, every motion was a testament to his noble upbringing. He came to a stop in the middle and gave Zagreus a once over, clearly amused by the prince’s antics.
Achilles cleared his throat. “What are you doing, Zag?” He canted his hips, shifting some of his weight to his spear.
“Achilles, I was just—” Zagreus stiffened. “Do I look as ridiculous as I feel right now?”
Achilles snorted. “Would it make you feel better or worse if I said ‘yes’?” Zagreus looked away in embarrassment. “Relax. I’m just teasing you.”
"It's good to see you, Achilles," Zagreus said after he regained his composure. “Say, you wouldn't have happened to have seen Thanatos around, would you?”
“Can’t say that I have. It’s no surprise seeing how busy he’s been with the war on the surface.” Achilles offered a small smile of reassurance. “I know how difficult it must be for you to be separated from him.”
“Lately it feels as if I hardly ever get to see him. Knowing he’s out there where I can’t reach him—”
“It’s a feeling I know all too well.” Achilles smiled sadly. Before he’d grown closer with Thanatos, Zagreus had never truly been able to understand the other man’s plight. He would occasionally find the old soldier staring off into space with an expression of profound sadness on his face, knowing that Patroclus was on his mind. The thought of being permanently separated from the one most dear to him terrified him. “He’ll be back soon. Chin up, lad.” Achilles ruffled his hair before stepping away.
The Great Hall teemed with un-life. Shades popped in and out while Hypnos struggled to maintain order in the chaos. Dusa spoke quietly with Megaera just outside of the lounge. Two of Cerberus’ frightful heads snoozed while the third watched on vigilantly. Above it all, his Lord Father sat imposingly upon his massive throne. He only spared his son a sidelong glance before turning his attention back to his work.
The House Contract sat idle at their workstation, head rested on one hand as they stared out blankly over the hall. When their eyes fell on the prince and they instantly perked up.
“Contractor, I have an important task for you.” Zagreus’ voice dropped to a hushed whisper as he bent down as close to the shade as he could without toppling over. “And I need you to keep this under wraps, okay? If you do exactly as I say, I’ll make sure your efforts are rewarded handsomely.”
“What are you whispering about over there, boy?” said Lord Hades, voice punctuated with contempt. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Conspiring with the house contractor to build some horrid new thing? Haven’t you strewn enough chaos throughout my realm?”
“Oh, I’m not up to anything, Father. Just making myself useful and making sure all the needed improvements around the house get taken care of. That is what you wanted, no?”
“I’d hardly call this fuss and frill you’ve brought upon the house an ‘improvement’.”
Zagreus rolled his eyes. How typical of his father to undermine his efforts. The man was far too stubborn to throw any sort of praise his way. Sure, Zagreus didn’t exactly have an eye for interior design and most of the fine details were worked out by the contractor, but at least he could say he was trying.
“Well, the shades certainly appreciate the changes, and everyone else’s moods have improved considerably as of late.” Zagreus gave his father a long look. “Well, almost everyone.”
“ Pah! Ridiculous.” Lord Hades scoffed. “I don’t have time to squabble over something as trifling as this. Do what you will, but keep well out of my sight.” With that, the master of the house returned his attention to the crowd of cowering shades before him, none sure of who had their audience with the king next and none daring to step forward.
Lord Hades looked down at Hypnos, who had once again dozed off while on duty. He floated mere inches above his lounging chair. A content smile graced his features, a stark contrast to the dark circles under his eyes. Only the god of sleep could find such peace in the House of Hades. But such peace was often short-lived.
Lord Hades banged his fist down on his desk. "Wake up, you damnable fool!"
Hypnos yelped and dropped his scrolls.
“W-what...?” Hypnos rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Then, upon realizing where he was, straightened up with attentiveness Zagreus didn’t think he was capable of. “I’m up!”
“How utterly disappointing that you did not turn out like your brother.” Hades steepled his hands in front of his chin and leaned forward. “Does it bore you to be fitted with such a menial task? Is it too challenging for you to wrangle the shades? Perhaps I should find a more competent replacement.”
Hypnos paled. “O-of course not, my lord! I’ll get them lined up straight away.”
“Be sure that you do.” Hades beckoned the closest shade. “Come forth! I haven’t got all day.”
Zagreus turned back to the contractor. “As I was saying," he whispered. The contractor gave him a curious look. With a wink, Zagreus lifted the folds of his chiton—very discreetly, of course—so the contractor could see the bottle of ambrosia tucked inside his tunic. The contractor gasped, sparing a quick look around to see if anyone else in the Great Hall had observed the exchange. They turned their attention back to Zagreus with renewed interest.
“Ambrosia, the drink of the gods, whatever you wish to call it. This stuff is hard to come by around these parts, but for a favor, I’d be more than willing to part with it.” The shade scrambled for their quill and design plans, then excitedly motioned for the prince to continue.
Zagreus beamed. “I’m glad we understand each other, my good shade. Now, listen closely...”
***
Thanatos would have been lying if he said his work didn’t drain him at times. Violence sickened him. Ares’ drive for war sickened him. Carrying battle-worn souls to the Underworld was a troublesome affair and far more excitement than he cared for. But dealing death was his duty, and so he trudged the Earth, burdened by the weight of souls and the pains that ailed them.
He materialized before the Pool of the Styx only to find the Great Hall empty. There was just enough light for him to see his way around. Hypnos wasn't in his usual spot to greet him. The Lord's seat sat empty with its owner having long since retired to his chambers. It was just as well that no one else was around. The house was so quiet that even his thoughts were deafening in the silence.
Thanatos was heading straight for the administration chamber to file his report only to completely stop in his tracks when he rounded the corner.
“Well, this is different,” he said to the empty hall.
Thanatos glided down the hall towards the balcony, then dropped to his feet to walk the rest of the way.
He took a moment to take in his surroundings. The balcony—his usual haunt—was no longer empty. Now it was fully furnished with a lounging chair bordered on either side by tall torches, a rug that looked deceptively soft, and a table with a single lit candle and a vase of poppies, set for two. He smiled softly to himself as he picked one of the bright red flowers from the vase and twirled it around in his hand thoughtfully.
There was a yawn behind him, “Than?”
Thanatos exhaled sharply, startled by Zagreus’ presence.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” Zagreus was lying on the couch, arm curled around a lyre, his eyes lidded with drowsiness. The prince pushed himself up with his arm and gave him a lopsided grin as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His eyes glistened beneath a tuft of hair that had fallen over his face. Thanatos reached out to brush it aside before he could stop himself. He tucked the flower he was holding into Zagreus’ laurel, deciding he rather liked the look of poppies in his hair. Zagreus smiled up at him.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” said Thanatos.
“It’s fine. I was just resting my eyes.” Zagreus yawned. “I was sort of waiting for you.”
Thanatos couldn’t hold back the soft smile that broke out on his face. He put up a front around everyone else, but when he was with Zagreus he put his feelings on display and allowed himself to be vulnerable. It was easier to hide his true feelings than to speak on them, but Zagreus had always been able to crack open Thanatos’ cold exterior, and little by little all that he was had been laid bare.
Thanatos braced himself on the cushion of the couch and leaned in close, his voice low. “Did you do all of this for me?” Zagreus flushed in embarrassment but accepted the kiss nonetheless.
“I reckoned you’d like it if this particular corner of the house was a bit cozier, seeing as it's your favorite spot and all.” Zagreus made room on the couch so Thanatos could sit next to him.
“Second favorite spot,” Thanatos murmured as he pressed a kiss into Zagreus’ neck, taking delight in how Zagreus’ skin grew heated from his touch as he flushed with pleasure.
“ Than ," Zagreus breathed out.
Thanatos gave his knee a gentle squeeze and pulled away. “Thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me,” he said softly. The words felt weighted coming out of his mouth as he struggled to show his gratitude. Zagreus grinned and gave Thanatos a quick peck on the lips.
“It’s nothing. I just wanted to do something nice for you after all you’ve done for me.” His eyes were filled with such warmth Thanatos dreaded looking away for fear of the cold. He still couldn’t believe that the love that shined in them was all for him. Zagreus made a noise as if he had suddenly remembered something. “Actually, there was one more thing.”
“Hmm?”
Zagreus absentmindedly played a few chords on his lyre. "Orpheus thought I’d have a better time with the lyre if I had something to practice, so he helped me write a song. For you.”
Thanatos’ lips parted, but before he could utter a single word Zagreus began playing.
He held the instrument steady in his lap with one hand while the other danced over the strings. His brow furrowed in deep concentration. Thanatos found himself entranced. He shifted closer, one arm curling around Zagreus’ waist as he leaned in closer. Zagreus’ fingers faltered on the strings when Thanatos’ hand brushed against his side, but he continued as if he hadn’t noticed the slip-up.
It was a performance that was just as theatrical as it was musical. Zagreus’ fingers were somewhat clumsy and uncertain on the strings, still unaccustomed to their tension, but to Thanatos he was like shining Apollo, plucking at his heart with every note.
And then Zagreus began to sing.
Thanatos’ breath caught in his throat. The lyre sang, its melody harmonizing with the honeyed undertones of Zagreus’ voice. His eyes were closed now, his head tilted to the side as if he were tuning in on some distant sound that Thanatos couldn’t hear. The light from the torches highlighted his face in gentle, warm light. It was almost too hard to believe that such beauty could have been found in the bleakness of the Underworld. Thanatos laid his head on top of Zagreus’ and the prince’s wild hair tickled his cheeks. This, he thought, he could get used to.
A woman basically ambush interviewed me at a gravel turnout near a trout stream recently. She needed all the fishing scoop for her novel about a couple teenage boys.
Species, times of the year, methods, what all the gear is called. She took almost a full page of notes while I got changed out of my waders. It was actually pretty fun.
A professor gave us an extra credit option: take a picture of yourself outside, doing something that you would not usually do. We were told not to take it too seriously. Here is my entry:
I maintain that sticking my head in the mailbox is not something I do on a regular basis.
The professor has said that he will put all submitted pictures into a powerpoint to be shown in class tomorrow (Tuesday, March 9th). I am very much looking forward to seeing the reaction from him and from the rest of the class. I promise to keep you informed.
Update: the professor saved my picture for last. I was told that I had "truly embodied the spirit of the assignment" and that I had gone "above and beyond."
Also, to everyone who is worrying about whether or not I got my head out, I was gifted with a very small head, and while I got out just fine I would NOT recommend this if you have a large head or even a normal sized head.
this one kinda hurts when i see it every pride month. im glad to see an art piece of mine still circulating, and with nearly 100,000 notes too! it just hurts that im separated from it. everyone in the notes thinks im gone. im still here, but my potential community and connection is lost because im forgotten in place of the art. yeah, my deactivated profile does add to the profoundness of what i was saying, but i am still removed.
Until We Meet Again Under The Light Of The Traveler.
based it off of this meme lmfao.
i started drawing this in the beginning of the year, after a bunch of bad things. but this meme really kept me going, and i wanted to make uses of those feelings via destiny fanart lmfaoooooo
one of the funniest conversations I ever had with my ex was when they were still getting used to Celsius and asked me "what's 20 degrees?" and instead of converting it, I said "it's the highest your dad will ever let you set the thermostat and when you say you're cold he tells you to put on another sweater, we're not made of money" and they went "oh, 68"
the fact that this reference was that fucking precise was something they went on to tell people about for years.
