#keys au

1. In Sword of Hades, we see that there's a key that unlocks death in this universe and most of HoO is about the Doors of Death.

Well… what if there were two keys and they locked/ unlocked one of the two entrances/ exits: the one in Los Angeles (TLT) and the one in the titular House of Hades. Each key does different things and is in the possession of one of the princes of The Underworld.

The first key, which locks the LA door, is in the possession of Nico. This key can summon the dead (regardless of whether or not there are skeletons nearby) and can tear open fissures in the earth for them to emerge from. It's embedded in the hilt of his sword (a la the Sword of Hades)

The second key, which locks the Epirus/ HoH door, is in the possession of Hazel. This key is worn around her neck and can give her visions of past death and how the people around her are going to die.

2. I split canon!Nico in half.

Keys!Nico is the mythology nerd who gets in everyone's business. He's Hades/Pluto's Ambassador to other pantheons and is at least friendly with both the post-Iskandar House of Life and the Norse crowd. He's learning magic from both but favors memorization over feeling, favoring magics like divine word and charms (but can also do some combat or death magics in desperation) on the Egyptian side while being fairly proficient in rune magic. He prefers to use cards as a medium as he's used to card-based memorization games like Mythomagic, can draw on and throw them, and they burn up upon use (helpful for remaining discrete).

The depressed Ghost King side of Nico is going to Bianca, who survives the events of TTC (I'll explain my quest reshuffling in another post). After Zoe's death, she runs off and runs into dangerous individuals who claim they can get Bianca's memories and best friend back. She meets Melinoe (who's supporting the Titans), who successfully introduces her to Mnemosyne, the titan of memory who reverses what the Lethe did. The goddess of ghosts then says that she'll need a powerful artificial shell/body to bring Zoe back. That's why they're going after Daedalus.

3. This is less relevant to this au specifically because this is also the case in Limen, but I aged up just about every character.

The prophecy is at 18 instead of 16 and I wanted to give every child of the Big Three a fair shot at being The One. Hazel was the closest when the prophecy was made, Bianca was after Hazel's death, Thalia was after she and her brother disappeared. Ana Dakkar (daughter of Neptune) was the first known on the Roman side and joined the Legion first by a couple months, but Jason is the oldest of the three on the Roman side. Finally, through Lotus Casino and Fate based shenanigans, Percy and Nico will turn 18 on the same day.

Bianca was 17 when she joined the Hunters and has been every day since

Nico is 16 in TTC, 18 in TLO, and turns 20 just after HoO

“Are you sure?” The sultry voice murmured as the warm breath tickled the outer shell of his ear, and even with that distraction, he could still feel the cool fingers dancing up the side of his arm keeping him caged against the chest and feeling the thudding of his heartbeat against his back. It was a heartbeat he’d felt and heard a million times, and yet this one time as he felt it speeding up even as the other’s voice remained as calm as ever, he couldn’t have been more sure about anything in his entire life. And even so, the presence of those fingers stopping at his wrist, told him so much. He was scared, and he didn’t want Logan to do something he would regret in the future. “Are you sure that you want to do this?”

But the thing was, Logan wasn’t going to regret this. He had regretted very few things in his life, and this wasn’t going to change that.

Turning around, he allowed his hands to rest on the base of the other’s chest, and looking into those eyes he could see the fear that brimmed in them just as warmth brimmed within his own. “I promise,” He murmured, now holding the other’s face firmly between his hands so that he couldn’t remove himself from Logan’s grasp or look away from his eyes. “There is nothing in this infinite cosmos that could ever make me regret this moment. I swear to it, by my name and our name alike.” That being said, a part of him was undoubtedly nervous, who wouldn’t be after all?

But taking in a deep breath, Logan pulled away from the man in front of him leaving one last kiss across his lips before he departed from him. Tugging at the blue string around his neck, a quiet jingling filled the tense silence filled the air as he pulled the necklace of keys from around his neck, each one looked different. The first was just a generic looking house key with nothing to set it apart from any other key, it was silvery and just about the shortest out of all the rest with short jagged teeth. The second was a scraped up rustic looking one with the copper-colored rust chipping away any time that it moved too much against the fabric of Logan’s shirt and tie, it’s was definitely a skeleton key by every definition of the word. The third, however, was the shiniest, a soft golden color that had a faint glow to it with every touch of Logan’s fingers, it’s every bit as elegant as it looks and yet it wasn’t the one that he needed.

Not in the slightest.

While the last one…the one at the end of the string was nothing remarkable. The last one is chipped and marred all over, every part of the key was covered in deep scratches and scuff marks as if it had seen many years of wear and abuse despite firmly remaining around Logan’s neck for all of his life. It’s an ugly black looking key, a key that would have been left in the garbage had anyone found it. Yet it was this one that he slid off the string when it was untied, and it was for this very reason that the hand stopped him again, but just for a moment before it fell away as soon as Logan offered it out to him. It wasn’t conventional by any means, and Logan’s very hand shook at the prospect of giving it away, but he still held it out to be taken by the only person he trusted to have it.

“Do you promise,” He whispered, there was a sense of urgency to his words despite everything that they had previously talked about, “Do you promise to take care of it no matter what, to love it despite how ugly and scarred it may seem to you and everyone else, you promise to hold it close? It’s been through a lot… a lot of hardships and criticisms and-”

A cold finger pressed against his lips stopping him dead just as those very same fingers curled around the offered key slipping it right out of his grasp

“Oh my dearest,” The words felt like promise whispered between the both of them, “There is nothing on this earth that would stop me.”

Redness swept over Logan’s cheek as the black ugly key pressed against his lover’s lips, a cherished kiss and a kiss of so much promise before it was slipped into his pocket. Within seconds they were both leaning forward as the other’s finger slipped away from his lips, allowing their mouths to meet in a sweet tender kiss that took no time all to evolve into something desperate, craving, and something just hungry for each other. As their clothes fell away, the promise between them wasn’t forgotten as mark after mark was pressed against Logan’s throat shortly followed by a kiss that left him whining and begging for more. Before the depth of the night consumed them both, and they fell into each other’s arms like it was the first time all over again. Something which neither of them would ever forget.

Asleep, but also content.

That very morning Logan stumbled out of bed, his hair was a certifiable mess as half aware of the world around him. He slipped his clothes on and stumbled downstairs, the smell of coffee freshly made awakened him just a little bit as he exhaustedly stumbled past Patton and Roman as they amicably chattered as they usually did in the morning all while Virgil merely grunted at him, earning him an early morning grunt back from Logan as he made a beeline for the coffee pot. The world tilted and shifted around him with each movement, and even so, he steadied himself against the counter. The coffee was singing his name, promising him that if he drank he’d be perfectly fine and dandy this morning.

The cup trembled in his grasp, as did the pot as he tried to steady it. His entire body ached and sung with a pleasant kind of soreness, he really shouldn’t even be up at this time in the morning seeing as he could really do with a few extra hours. And yet there he was, struggling to pour coffee as he tiredly blinked past the blurriness of the world around him.  

“Give it here, you look like you’re going to cry if you just stand there long enough and the coffee doesn’t pour itself.”

Since when had Virgil stood up? Had he really been standing there holding his cup so long that even he had started to notice? Did he really look that bad?

Judging from the way that both Roman and Patton were staring at him after his cup had somehow made its way into his hand, yes, yes he had been standing in silence for that long while looking completely and utterly pathetic. Swallowing thickly he brought the cup up to his lips as his attention shot down to his toes, or rather the mismatched socks that he’d put on this morning. One a dark navy blue and the other...a bright neon green that hurt his eyes to even look at it. Mismatched...mismatched socks. Was he really this off this morning, especially after something like last night? He should be happy, he should be over the fucking moon. And yet...here he was struggling to even pour coffee on a morning that should be like any other morning.

“Logie?” Coffee dripped down Logan’s chin as his attention shot back up, locking right onto Patton’s rapidly approaching form. “Are you alright? You look…” He looked awful if Patton was being honest with himself, but he couldn’t bear to say such a thing out loud as soon as Logan’s earthy eyes locked onto his. Virgil hadn’t been joking, Logan really looked sullen enough to cry right then and there, even Roman seemed to notice given by how he instantly straightened his shoulders. “Logan, what’s wrong?”

Logan swayed, and Virgil’s eyes darted to the keys jingling against his chest.

“There are three.” He muttered, and soon enough Patton gaze dropped to them as well, although that certainly didn’t stop him from reaching a hand out to steady the logical side who was already slanting at one hundred degree angle. Already a million possible thoughts and scenarios raced through Virgil’s mind, scenarios that included someone drugging Logan and stealing one of the keys, or taking it when Logan wasn’t looking, or so many other things that it was impossible to keep them all straight. For as long as they had all known him, or at least since they were little kids, Logan had always had four keys. He’d never allowed them to touch them, let alone remove one of them in the time that Virgil had been close to Logan.

So this sent every alarm bell in his mind blarring, telling him that not only was something wrong, but it needed to be fixed and now.

Within seconds Roman was marching forward, the sound his cup made when he had slammed it against the counter rang all throughout the kitchen mere seconds before he breezed past Patton and seized Logan’s shoulders in a firm grip. The look on Roman’s face couldn’t have been classified as anything but completely and utterly terrifying, “Who took it?” Roman snarled, the prince’s infamous protective nature rearing its head as soon as he had seen Logan’s tired and yet sullen movements as he had navigated around the kitchen, his very movements made him look as if he had a boulder attached to him or as if someone had just smashed his prized know-it-all trophy. And Roman would kill all if that were the case, “Tell me who took it, and I will hunt them down in a glorious blood sports manner. I can promise you that.” The last thing he expected to see was Logan’s lip wobbling, shortly before the waterworks started. Within mere moments he hastily released Logan’s shoulders stumbling back in surprise.

“I..I..gave it to him!” The tears rushed hotly down Logan’s face before he could even think about stopping it, why on earth was he crying? He didn’t know, all that he knew was that there were wet tears on his face and he couldn’t even begin to stop them, let alone raise his hand to wipe them away. “I gave it to him, because I wanted to!” A hiccup jolted his words, and now more than ever he felt a flush of hot shame crawling its way over his cheeks as his shoulders hunched and his fingers curled into tight fists.

He couldn’t stop crying, he just couldn’t stop crying and he didn’t know why.

The kitchen area darkened around them, the lights flickering and sputtering out of life as the darkness encroached on the walls. It crawled and crawled until it met the ceiling, and even as all the others backed away from Logan a single hand reached out from the waves of shadows and rested his hand around the logical side’s shoulders until he was entirely visible to those around him. And even as one hand tightly grasped Logan’s shoulders, the other loosely held a familiar look key as he twirled it lazily around between and through his fingers as a look of contempt filled his face upon looking at the others.

“Deceit!” A chorus of the dishonest side’s name filled the kitchen as his lips curved upwards into a hellish smile that revealed the sharp glint of his teeth. It was a smile though, that soon fled his face as soon as Logan’s sniffles reached his ears. It took no time at all for a frown to mar Deceit’s face as soon he turned, capturing Logan’s face in between his hands before his the pads of his thumbs every so gentle swiped away the tears that trickled down the logical side’s face.

“Dearest,” Deceit clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “You didn’t give me the key to your heart...you shouldn’t have waited to see if there were any negative repercussions.” Another sniffle left Logan, his tears drying within mere moments of Deceit’s arrival before he moved his head forward tucking it into the dishonest side’s shoulder. “You aren’t acting oddly vulnerable love, but I certainly wouldn’t want to see more of it.” The tiniest bit of a smile darted across Deceit’s lips as soon as a watery chuckle left Logan, a strange tenderness coming to light in the other’s eyes as soon as he began to smooth down Logan’s messy matted hair from their night together.

Looking at the two of them together was like peering into an alternate reality that honestly Roman wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of at this point. Especially given how Deceit’s fingers gingerly drifted over the marks he just now noticed were on Logan’s neck, ranging from behind his ear to the very bottom of his neck. It sent a strange sensation spiraling in his stomach, but that certainly didn’t stop something from sticking out to him.

“What do you mean ‘The key to his heart’?” Suspicion tugged at his every word as his fingers itched to summon his sword, he could already feel the hilt of his sword right now. The only thing that was really stopping him was the fact that if he took a swing at Deceit, there was a pretty good chance that not only would he hit Logan, but Deceit could also use him as a shield and he would..accidentally kill Logan in Deceit’s place. “If you’ve done anything to him, then I swear by Thomas’ mother that I’ll…”

Once again silence filled his words, they all knew that there was nothing that he could do right now, at least not until he got Logan far enough away from Deceit so that he could strike and-

“We’re lovers Roman.” Roman’s thoughts came to an abrupt and screeching halt as soon as those words left Logan’s mouth, and watching Logan wipe at his eyes resting his head against Deceit’s shoulders he couldn’t help but for his mouth to drop wide open as soon as the logical side carried on as if it were nothing. “I did indeed give him the key to my heart both in the literal and non-literal sense. Ever since I was formed I’ve had keys, you’ve seen me with them.” Logan gestured to the first key, the most average looking one. “The key to my room,” And then to the next as if they could just move on from that bombshell, as he gestured to the rusty key hanging from around his neck. “The key to my emotions,” The shiny elegant key was next before Logan eventually gestured to the key that Deceit had been spinning around in his fingers, the key that was also connected to a bright yellow strand “The key to my knowledge, and well… the key to my heart.”

Deceit’s grip tightened on said key for a second, holding it as protectively as a someone holding a prized possession would. There was no doubt about it, he took being the holder of Logan’s heart key very seriously, there was no doubt about that.

Tagged: 

Xehanort finally glances over his shoulder, his expression initially bored, until his golden gaze falls upon Sora. The master strangely seems caught off guard, as if he truly is surprised by Marluxia’s “gift”. His expression darkens when he turns around fully, his dark Keyblade flashing into his hand as he walks toward the pair. Each slow step he takes fills Sora with a new wave of dread, his heart pounding and his entire body trembling as he realizes there is no escaping this. No escaping from the awful man who’s already well on his way to destroying him completely.

Xehanort finally stops a few feet away, pulling his deadly Keyblade back for a heavy strike. Sora closes his eyes, already anticipating the untold pain that’s about to come his way. And yet, surprisingly, it doesn’t come, at least not to him. Instead, Xehanort’s Keyblade soundly strikes Marluxia instead.

His startled cry echoes through the room as he’s thrown across it. His back hits the far wall, and within seconds, Xehanort bridges the gap between them, leaving Sora exactly where he is to watch this bewildering twist unfold.

“You traitorous fool!” Xehanort snaps, infuriated. He keeps Marluxia pinned in place by positioning the edge of his dark weapon dangerously close to his neck, and Sora is shocked to see just how shaken he is by his master’s ire. A rare look on someone who, mere seconds ago, had been so calm and collected in light of his supposed triumph. “Have you learned nothing from your past failures? Are you really so impetuous and incompetent that you would bring him here now, far before he’s ready to join our ranks?”

“I-I simply assumed that you-” Marluxia is swiftly cut off as Xehanort presses his Keyblade even closer to him, to the point that its edge is all but skimming the skin of his throat.

“Never take it upon yourself to assume what my intentions are, Number Seven,” the master warns him, his voice quiet yet incredibly threatening. “The task I gave you was a fundamentally simple one: to go into the worlds and retrieve a Key for our cause. Nothing less, and certainly nothing more. And yet you couldn’t even do that much right. Perhaps you thought that you were going a step beyond the station of your duty with this ‘ingenious’ plan of yours, but instead, all you have accomplished is the exact opposite. You have disgraced me, my seventh; you have disgraced me, you have disgraced your Organization, and most of all, you have disgraced yourself.”

Marluxia pales at this, his jaw dropped as he tries to futilely fish for words he can’t seem to find. When he does speak, his voice is small, subdued, something that barely sounds like it could come out of any Organization member at all as far as Sora is concerned. “M-my… apologies, master,” he starts, clearly treading as carefully as he can now. “But… if the boy is here now, then you could finish carrying out your plans for him far sooner. He could be of use to us now instead of-”

He’s cut off as a sharp, agonized cry escapes him, echoing through the white room. Xehanort’s hand is held up, darkness enshrouding it as he forces that silencing pain onto his seventh vessel’s heart. “You understand nothing of my plans,” he sneers coldly. “I am the one who is meant to guide our thirteenth to his proper place among us, not you. Your role is to do as you’re told, and if memory serves correctly, I never told you to bring Sora to me prematurely, did I, my seventh?”

“N-no, master,” Marluxia barely manages to say above the pain relentlessly clinging onto his heart. “You did not…”

“I don’t believe you realize just how grave of a mistake you’ve made here,” Xehanort finally backs away, his Keyblade disappearing. “Perhaps this will prove enough to remind you to never act against my wishes again.” At this, Xehanort clenches his darkness-shrouded hand into a tight fists, pressing his devastating power upon Marluxia even further. He collapses to his knees, another anguished scream tearing out of his throat as he helplessly writhes at his master’s feet.

The most Sora can do is watch this entire horrific display from afar, his eyes wide with apt fear. He can’t deny he’d feel sorry for Marluxia… if Marluxia hadn’t been the one to chain him up, steal him from his friends, and drag him straight into the lion’s den. Right into Xehanort’s cruel, cunning hands to no doubt face the very same kind of horrific torment as soon as he’s done with the current target of his hatred.

This bout of twisted torture goes on for what seems like ages. It finally ends when Marluxia finally fully falls to the ground, barely conscious, a small bit of blood trickling out of his mouth to stain the otherwise flawless floor. Xehanort stands over him, absolutely sympathetic as he offers his seventh vessel one final warning. “If you ever dare to disobey me again, I can promise you that your next punishment will be far worse than you can imagine,” he says simply before turning away, allowing Marluxia to finally slip into the void completely.

When Xehanort looks back at him, the most Sora can manage to get out underneath his gag is a small, anxious whine. He pulls back away as much as he’s able as the master approaches him, his expression an icy mask of stern authority. “Let this… display be a lesson to you as well, my thirteenth,” he says calmly, as if he hadn’t just put someone through such immense suffering. “It is the same law each of your fellow members are made to follow: if you ever decide to rebel against the role I have planned for you, then you must be prepared to face the consequences of your own insolent actions. And all of the pain that futile insubordination is bound to bring to you.”

Sora’s barely listening by this point, as overwhelmed by terror as he is. His Keyblade won’t come to him, won’t appear to free him from the chains around his wrists, from this awful situation as a whole. And yet, much to his surprise, he soon finds that he doesn’t need it to at all.

“Even so, I feel inclined to apologize for my seventh’s ignorant haste,” Xehanort finally smiles, slipping a finger under Sora’s chin to guide his haunting gaze. “As I said, you aren’t meant to be here, not yet. There’s still so much more you need to do, so many more Keys yet for you to claim. Far be it from me to detract you from such an essential mission. With that mission in mind, you may return to the light that you’re so accustomed to… for the time being.”

With a wave of the master’s hand, a dark corridor forms directly underneath Sora, its shadows already starting to swallow him, his chains and gags suddenly disappearing as they do. Sora gasps, immediately trying to escape the dangerous darkness devouring him, only to be overwhelmed by it almost immediately. The last thing he hears before it carries him somewhere far away is his master’s voice, echoing one last sinister promise through the empty void. “But don’t forget, my thirteenth, that no matter where you go from here, no matter what path you take, each and every one will ultimately lead you back here in the end. Back to the darkness, to your Organization, to your master… to where you truly belong…”