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bitchycatwizard · 2 years

Text

The SPECTRE AU- The ABC of Villany. Extract from the Archive- C.

Dannymay2022 day 19: Crossover

Name: Cadmus

Alias: Project Cadmus

Description: Cadmus is a large goverment secret organisation that sees it as its duty to protect America (first) and the world from Meta-humans, super natural entitis and aliens.

There members are high ranking goverment employes, military officers, scientists and other specialists.

To do this they are looking into anything from gathering of information, artifacts and people to there cause.

There is also rumors of cloning attempts.

Powers/Members:

-Confirmed:

Amanda Waller

General Eiling

General Hardcastle

Dr. Hugo Strange

Dr. Moon

Dr. Milo

Professor Emil Hamilton

-Unconfirmed:

Tala (see T)

Maxwell Lord

And somesort of link to Lexcorp, probably finacial.

Theese individuals seem to be the higher ups with other groups under them which with don’t yet have much info only names to go by.

Project: Doomsday

Task Force X

-Only known name is Colonel Rick Flagg.

Project: Galatea

The Ultimen

Project: Volcana

More info is needed to form an opinion.

Weakness: Extreme pessimism, extremly hard to work with people with powers since they are very misstrusted.

The Hardline American view that if you are not with them you are against them.

Allies: The American Goverment, possibly the GiW (see G)

Enemies: The ones with powers that they can’t control.

Goals: Officaly: To Protect the American people from other wordly things.

-Unofficialy: Control.

Obsession: Everything we can not control is a threat.

Status: Building, not yet at full power.

Living Status: All alive.

Incident Report: Informants are starting to disappear.

Metas are gone for months, before returning in uniform and with very changed views.

Attempted recruiting of O2.

More and more stalkers in the cities.

Something big might be coming.

Addendum 1:

The organisation seem to have split into two.

A North with most of the people and funding still under Amanda Waller and a West under (everything points to) Lexcorp and a new main scientist a Dr. Mark Desmond.

What the new West will do is unclear so far all we have are the name Project: Blockbuster.

Addendum 2: Six agents of the GiW has joined Cadmus North after the Thousand Arms incident (see G) (See special report: Thousand Arms)

Name: Buddy Standler

Alias: The Condiment King, Mitchell Mayo

Description: Just a guy in a gray jumpsuit that uses mustard, ketchup, hot sauce and other condiments to commit petty crimes, together with o so many puns.

Powers: Just a guy.

-Items:

Condiment guns; Condiment King is frequently equipped with squirt guns with tubes connecting to belts or backpacks filled with condiments. These guns are relatively harmless, at most causing their target to lose balance or be propelled moderately backwards. Originally, he was equipped with one gun for ketchup and one for mustard but he would later be shown with a larger cannon that could swivel between different condiments.

Hot sauce packets: Condiment King will sometimes equip his suit with packets of hot-sauce which he uses for close-quarters combat by squeezing into his opponents' mouth to incapacitate them.

Utility belt: Condiment King will sometimes wear a utility belt of different condiments connected to his weapons, rivalling the utility belt arsenal of Batman (in terms of garnishes stored and nothing else).

(Batman fandom wiki)

Allies: N/A

Enemies: The Joker (who is is believed to have driven him insane), The Batman, The Bat family.

Goals: N/A

Obsession: Condiments.

Puns about Condiments.

Status: Gotham city, hopefully Arkham.

Living Status: Yup

Incident Report: We don’t talk about that night!!!

............O3 almost died (again) laughing at the puns and for the rest of us it would take almost three weeks to get the smell of mustard out of our uniforms.

Addendum: What a ridicolus night.

Name/Alias: The Corinthian

Description:

The Corinthian is generally an impeccable dresser and will often wear only white clothing. The Corinthian's most notable physical feature is his lack of eyes: in their place, two rows of small, jagged teeth line each eye socket, which he often covers with sunglasses. He can speak, eat, and even respire through these mouths. He does not seem to suffer in any way from his lack of eyes, and indeed claims to be able to see very well; he is shown driving adequately, even while wearing sunglasses at night. He is, however, fond of taking the eyeballs of his victims and "eating" them by placing them in his eye sockets.

(Sandman fandom wiki)

Powers:

Complete Possesion

When the Corinthian takes over a body, the eyes are consumed and replaced by teeth and the hair turnes white while the rest stay the same this allows the Corinthian to jump between bodies.

Consuming the eyes lets him see the past of the victims and in some cases the future.

Mental manipulation.

He finds it very easy to convince people of his murderous point of view.

Weakness:N/A

Allies: People who find it fun to kill.

The Collectors.

Enemies: Spectre

Obsession: Peoples eyes and to consume them.

Status: Free.

Livng Status: N/A

Incident Report: This past year we have found four of his crime scenes.

They have all been horrific.

Small traces of his powers has been found on all places.

We are tracking him.

Addendum:

New evidence points us towards the disappearence of The Sandman 65-70 years ago.

That he is a escaped Nighmare from the Dreamrealms under Morpheus missing time.

We have to go through the books in the house of Mystics if there is a way into the Dreamrealms.

Reblog and follow me if you want more of my stuff.

Like, send a frog of a gif of the Muppets if you like what I’m doing.

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teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years

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fly high!!

summary: logan has carried the nickname of "ice king" with him since middle school. he has never successfully meshed with a team before. his opponents think him incapable of growth.

his opponents are wrong, and their mistakes carry a heavy price.

(OR: a haikyuu!! au; one game featuring logan the genius setter and his team)

a/n: rewatched haikyuu!! got inspired. here's 3.5k! HUGE huge thank you to josie ( @flamingfawkes ) for beta reading! title comes from haikyuu!! s2 opening 2

CW: trash-talking, insults, minor injury/blood mention, references to past mistakes, making assumptions based on past actions, swearing, nonspecific v-mit mention

wordcount: ~3.5k

read it on ao3!!!

“Hey, isn’t that the crazy setter from that middle school tournament last year?”

“Yeah, they called him the Ice King!”

“Whoa, what a cool nickname!”

“Not so cool if you’re on the court with him. I hear his teammates kicked him out of his last game because he’s incapable of being a team player.”

“No wonder he ended up at that garbage school - I bet none of the good schools would take him!”

“How stupid does that team have to -”

“Hey!” Remus barks loudly, jerking his chin up and leering at the suddenly-terrified players. “You got somethin’ to say about my teammate, you absolute rat bastard -”

“Remus!” Thomas grabs the libero by his collar and picks him up like a drowned cat. “I apologize for my teammate. He gets a bit . . . overzealous at times. Remus, apologize.”

“Go to hell!” Remus says cheerfully, twisting around to try and lick Thomas’s arm. Thomas drops him in disgust, but Remus lands like a cat and rolls to his feet, bouncing away with a cackle.

“What was that all about?” Roman asks. Remus takes his bag back and slings it over his shoulder, looking up at his twin. “I thought we talked about causing trouble at tournaments - they’re going to kick you out, and we don’t have a backup libero anymore.”

“People were being assholes about Logan. You think I can just let that slide?” Remus bares his teeth, and Roman levels a glare at the opposing players.

“Oh, well in that case,” he mutters, pushing up his sleeves. Before either of them can respond, Logan reaches out and grips their shoulders.

“Please do not get into fights on my account.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re not going to get in them on your own account, are you?” Remus says. “You can pretend you don’t have feelings all you want, Logan, I know the shit they say bothers you.” Logan flinches, just barely, and Remus reaches up to pat at his shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore, Logan. You don’t have to fight these battles on your own. We’re not going to let them shit-talk you and get away with it.”

“I might not be as willing to fistfight people for your honor as my deviant brother over here, but I know for a fact that the whole team shares his sentiments. You’re not the person you were in that middle school tournament.” Roman places his hand over Logan’s, and Logan offers him a small smile.

“Are we fighting people?” Janus asks. “Remus, darling, you know we’re not supposed to do that in uniform. What if you get blood on it? I know you didn’t pack a spare, and I won’t have time to launder it before our game. Besides, you know better than to make threats where there are witnesses with recording equipment present.”

Remus slips out of Logan’s grip and bounces off towards the court, chattering idly to Janus and waving his hands around. Thomas turns back to them, setting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“You okay?"

“I am adequate.”

“Not what he asked you,” Roman says, shoulder-checking Logan as they keep walking.

“I know what people say about me. I am aware of the toll my past behaviors took on my working relationships with my team. I am . . . working to be better than I was, but I am not sure I have made much progress.”

“You’re already loads better than you were,” Roman says. “You’ve got a great eye for tosses, and you’re learning to talk to the rest of us. We’re getting there. We are.”

Logan blinks, looking back and forth. “Where’s Virgil?”

“Probably in the bathroom, trying not to throw up.” Logan looks alarmed, which is to say that his eyes widen slightly. “Don’t worry, he usually doesn’t. He just has nerves that get the better of him, so he takes some alone time in the bathroom to calm himself down.”

Virgil rejoins them at the doors of the gymnasium, looking pale and faintly green. “You okay?” Thomas asks. Virgil nods, winding a stray lock of hair around his finger. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ve been working on that pinch serve for how long now?”

“Months, but it could still go wrong, it -”

“It won’t. You’re called a pinch server for a reason, Virgil. We bring you in when we’re in a pinch.”

“Which puts even more pressure on me to not mess up!”

“You will be fine,” Logan says. He turns around, peering at Virgil through his sports glasses. “I have faith in you. You are more than your serves - you are also an excellent blocker with swift reflexes. You are a multi-purpose tool, and I will utilize you to the best of my ability.”

Virgil stares at him, mouth slightly open, and Logan blinks, leaning back, eyebrows creasing. “Was - that an insensitive remark? I meant no disrespect.”

Virgil blinks at him, once, and then laughs, gently socking Logan in the arm. “Maybe other people would have found it insensitive, but I found it comforting. Thanks, Lo.” Logan crinkles his eyes and curves the corner of his mouth up, gently bonking his forehead against Virgil’s shoulder.

*~*~*~*~*

“I’m sorry!” Roman sprints across the court and pulls Janus to his feet. “I hit you in the face, are you alright?”

“I’ll never recover,” Janus says, rubbing his face. “Am I bleeding?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Still have all my teeth?”

“Yep.”

“Then I’ll be fine.”

“You really gotta get better at receives, Jan!” Remus laughs.

“And why would I do that when I have my darling libero looking out for me?” Remus grins, pleased, and Janus ruffles his hair fondly.

“Can you please not be gross with my brother right the fuck in front of me?”

Janus raises a single eyebrow at him before leaning down and very deliberately sliding his tongue into Remus’s mouth. “What the fuck, I officially retract my apology for hitting you in the face, I’m done, I’m leaving, goodbye -”

“That’s an . . . unusual warmup strategy,” the opposing captain tells Thomas.

“They’re unusual players,” Thomas says.

*~*~*~*~*

“Thomas, nice serve!”

Thomas spins the ball between his hands, takes a deep breath, tosses it in the air, slams it forward. “Damn it - straight to their libero!”

“It’s a quick from the left! Janus, that’s you -”

“On it!”

“Nice one-touch - pick it up!”

“Remus -”

“Got it!”

Logan turns, runs, leaps up into position, scans over the team. Where are the blockers - where are the spikers - what’s the position - who can he use - what can he do -

“Logan, to the ace!”

“Number two, number two!”

Roman jumps on the left, Janus on the right, and coming from the back row - the pipe, he can do it, where is Thomas, he’s running from the back, he’s in the air, twist lift and set -

Thomas slams it straight past the opposing blockers and hits cleanly. The referee blows her whistle, and the score changes. One point in their favor.

“Logan, I wanted a toss!” Roman complains. Logan squints at him - is he really upset? No, his eyes are crinkled like when he laughs at Remus’s stupid jokes, and he shows Logan a thumbs-up.

“You can have the next one,” Logan says.

“Telegraphing your next move so loudly? I guess the Ice King has lost his touch,” Number Eight calls. Remus begins snarling from the back row, but Logan turns a cool stare at his opponent.

“I have more than one weapon in my arsenal.”

Number Eight scoffs, but Logan just turns away. “Thomas,” he says. Thomas looks at him, and Logan lifts his hands, signing quickly. Setter-back-row. Aim-receive-9. Thomas nods, taking the volleyball again.

Remy touches Emile’s shoulder gently. When he turns to look, Remy nods at Logan and Thomas. “What is he saying?”

Emile turns more fully towards him. “Their setter is in the back row. He’s not allowed to move to the front row until after the serve, so there’s a moment of confusion where he has to run in front of someone. If you aim a serve correctly, there’s a delay, which can mess up even the strongest receiver.”

Sure enough, the setter darts in front of Number Nine, and the receive goes flying out of bounds.

“He really is something else, isn’t he?” Remy asks.

“Logan? Yeah, he’s got great analytical skills, and they’re fast to boot. His problem is communication, but this team . . . it’s not gonna let him get away with being silent for long.”

Thomas serves again, and they receive it more cleanly. The set goes up, the spike goes down, and Remus dives to catch it. “Nice receive!” Logan moves into position, his hands go up, Roman gets into position and jumps, the blockers move in front of him, and Logan shifts at the last second and dumps the ball right in front of the net.

Number Eight glares at him again. Logan stares back impassively. “Was that supposed to impress me, Ice King?"

“Was that supposed to intimidate me . . .” Is Logan supposed to insult him back? How would Remus insult him? He will never understand the art of trash talking someone. “For someone playing a team sport, you seem to be incredibly self-centered right now.”

Number Eight scoffs at him and turns away; Logan just blinks.

“Was he trying to insult me?” he asks Roman.

“Probably,” Roman says.

“Oh. Was I supposed to insult him back?”

Roman grins at him, sharp and bloodthirsty. “Let your tosses insult that pesky motherfucker. Don’t be afraid to rely on me to help you, hmm?”

Logan nods. “As you wish.”

Remus has to dive for the next receive, and it comes off-kilter. “Sorry!”

Nothing to apologize for, Logan thinks. You got the ball in the air. That’s all I need.

Roman slams the ball past two blockers without even trying.

*~*~*~*~*

They take the first set narrowly, 25-20. Their opponents attack with a vengeance in the second set, and it isn’t long before the player-swap whistle blows and Virgil steps up to serve.

Logan hands him the ball; their fingers overlap. Virgil looks at him, and Logan looks back, crinkling his eyes. “You can do this,” he says, voice low. “They underestimate you the way they underestimate me. I can see it in their eyes. Show them why that is a mistake.”

Virgil blinks at him, taking the ball. “You got it, Lo.”

“What’s he gonna do?” Number Eight laughs. Logan returns to his front line position next to Janus.

“You know, you really run your mouth quite a bit for someone who has yet to show me anything truly impressive,” Janus drawls. Number Eight looks like he wants to flip him off, but before he can, Virgil serves.

“It’s out!”

Number Eight smirks, chin up, but Logan doesn’t look at him. He keeps watching the ball as it travels, travels, wavers, wobbles, and drops to the court, just within the line.

The opposing team turns to stare in shock as the whistle blows.

“Nice serve!” Remus and Roman yell, sprinting over to slap their hands against Virgil’s in victory.

“I knew all that practice was gonna pay off!”

“You’re amazing!”

“Guys, it’s just one point,” Virgil says, rubbing the back of his neck. His face has a pleased flush.

“It’s one more point than we had!” Remus says. “One point is the beginning - it’s all we need! Now go out and get us one more!”

Virgil serves, again and again, and racks up three more points before the opposing team figures out what to do with his jump float serve.

*~*~*~*~*

Not all blocks are equal, Janus thinks. The goal is not always to shut the ball down. Sometimes, a wall is not possible.

Janus is not a tall middle blocker; he isn’t nearly as short as Remus is, but he’s only average height. He cannot shut down the opposing spikers the way that someone else might. He hears what people say when they see him take position.

How can he possibly be a middle blocker with that height?

Aim for the middle, he’s too short to make any difference!

Even if he jumps, he can’t stop you!

They are all fools.

Janus does not need to stop a ball to block effectively.

He jumps, and Number Six smirks at him, aiming right for him. Janus can see Remus moving behind him from the corner of his eye, and he smirks right back at Number Six.

I don’t have to stop your spike to shut you down.

He shifts his fingers, and the ball bounces off of them. “A soft block?!” Number Six shouts. Janus hears the ball make contact with Remus’s forearms, and he’s running when he lands. By the time Logan’s hands are in the air, Janus is all the way at the other side of the net, and he swings his hand as though he’s going to slam the ball down. Number Six jumps in front of him, snarling, and Janus shifts to the tips of his fingers again and feints.

The ball drops to the court just behind Number Six, the referee’s whistle blows, and Janus lands. “Was the toss alright?” Logan asks, jogging over. “Do you need me to make any adjustments for you?” Janus notices the way his eyes widen, as though he’s afraid he’ll get yelled at, and he smiles. It’s genuine; despite the popular misconception, he is capable of those.

“It was wonderful,” he says. “Nice toss, Logan.”

Logan smiles up at him. “Nice feint!”

“Damn it!” Number Six shouts. Janus turns to him and smiles with all his teeth, no mirth behind it.

You underestimate me at your own peril.

*~*~*~*~*

Their opponents call a time-out, and Logan grabs his water bottle. Remus slaps him on the back before he has a chance to take a sip. “Logan!”

Logan turns, startled, and Remus grins up at him. “You’re on the back row when we go in, right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t run forward.”

“What?”

“Don’t move forward to set. Focus on getting the cleanest possible receive you can, okay? Just get it into the air.”

“If I receive, I cannot set,” Logan says. “I do not understand.”

Remus drops his grin, showing Logan his ‘I’m-being-serious’ hand sign. “I know you’re a genius setter, but trust me, Logan. My brother and I have a trick or two up our sleeves. It’ll be okay.”

Logan blinks at him. “I am unsure of this plan.” Remus just keeps watching him. “However . . . I trust you. I trust my team. If you say that you can handle it, then you can.” Remus grins at him, holding up his hands for a high ten. Logan tucks his bottle between his legs and high-tens him back.

Before they step back onto the court, Remus grabs Roman’s wrist. “Wh -”

“I told Logan to focus on receiving this next spike.” Roman turns to look at him.

“What the hell - why would you do that?”

“He’s all the way in the back row! And it must be tiring, setting all those balls one after another. Don’t you think it’s Wonder Twin time?” Roman’s expression changes from angry to joyous in an instant.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right.”

The serve comes in, and Logan shifts into a receiving stance. Remus and Roman make eye contact across the court, and Roman’s eyes flick to the left. Remus nods. Logan receives the ball cleanly. “Nice receive!”

“Their setter received it!” Number Two yells. “They’re limited!”

Not on my watch, motherfucker, Remus grins. He sprints forward, touches down right in front of the attack line, jumps, twists, and lifts his hands. Roman heads for the left, all three blockers surge up to meet him, and then he pivots and sprints to the center. Remus tosses, Roman jumps, and the ball slams down onto the opponent’s court.

Remus, who isn’t used to being in the air, lands on his ass, but he rolls to his feet quickly. “Take that, you son of a -”

“Remus!” Thomas snaps. Roman sprints back and gives him a high ten, grinning, and Logan looks at him.

“You can set?”

“I’m better at receiving, and I’m not really tall enough to play any position other than libero. But that doesn’t mean you’ve seen my whole bag of tricks! I can set in a pinch, as long as I jump from behind that attack line, but I really only practice setting for Roman, so I don’t do it for anyone else.”

Logan blinks, and then his face breaks out into a wide, unrestrained grin, one hand flapping rapidly at his side. “You’re so cool!” he bursts. “That’s amazing, that’s so so cool!”

Remus grins, flushing under the praise. “I know! I am amazing, aren’t I? Marvel at my power!”

“Don’t compliment him like you mean it, Logan, he’s gonna get a big head!” Roman scolds. Remus sticks his tongue out, and Logan laughs.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan lifts his hands to the back of his head, like he’s covering it against the serve. He shifts his fingers to signal: synchronized attack.

The serve goes up, clean receive, which means the most likely course is -

“Center attack!” Logan shouts. Number Three scoffs as his center straight comes down right against Remus’s waiting hands.

“It’s all yours, Logan!”

All four of them move in unison - Virgil, Janus, Roman, Thomas, all running forward in unison. Logan shifts, watches the confusion of the blockers, lifts his hands. The toss that will work the best, the toss that can score a point, the spiker who will carry the momentum of this match is -

“Watch out, it’s number 13!”

Virgil slams a cut shot across three blockers and scores without breaking a sweat. “Unlucky,” he smirks, fistbumping Janus.

*~*~*~*~*

The second set comes to a deuce, and they call a time out. “We need to gain a two-point lead to take this match, but don’t get so caught up in the idea of the next point that you miss the one in front of you. Keep your focus in the moment, not the future. Understand?”

“Yes!”

Logan tosses the ball into the air, jumps, and serves. As the other team receives, he grabs Roman’s shirt. “Roman, instead of a wall, try an umbrella!”

“What?”

Roman’s eyes widen in recognition as they jump to block the spike, deflecting it towards the back. “Remus!” Thomas shouts.

“I got it - it’s up!”

“Roman!” Logan shouts, turning to set.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Ice King!” Number Eight laughs. All three blockers converge on Roman, who jumps and bounces the ball off the block.

“What?!”

“A rebound?!”

“Remus, pick it up!” Roman shouts.

“I got it!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

Roman and Janus jump at the net, but Logan is already setting for the pipe. Thomas jumps from the back, slams the ball past the block, and scores.

“Nice kill!”

“You couldn’t use lingo that’s a little more clear next time?” Roman complains

“Why would I need to? You understood what I meant, didn’t you?”

Roman ruffles his hair, and Logan swats at his arm. “Hey, that hurts, don’t do that!” Roman just laughs and keeps going.

*~*~*~*~*

The rally has been going for almost two minutes now, the ball constantly in the air, and the exhaustion is setting in. They have the lead by one point, and they only need one more to take the match. “Come on, come on!”

“They’re gonna use the ace! Cover Number Three!”

Roman jumps, Logan’s hands go up, the blockers move to cover Roman, and Logan dumps the ball. Number Ten dives for it, but it drops to the ground right in front of him.

They take their second set, and the match, 26-24.

*~*~*~*~*

Patton tucks his manager notebook into his bag and starts handing out water bottles. “You were all amazing! Logan, I think that’s the most you’ve communicated in a match, and it really showed!”

Logan takes the water bottle, nodding. “It took me a while to learn how to communicate most effectively with my teammates. I was trying to carry the entire weight of the team on my shoulders as the setter. But I . . . am not the only one on my team thinking. I can give options, and trust that they will utilize those options effectively.”

“That’s right!” Remus crows, slapping his back. “We have brains too, Logan!”

“The rest of us, maybe. You? Debatable,” Virgil says. Remus immediately tackles him to the court.

“Are you trying to injure me?” Virgil shrieks. Roman rolls his eyes and sighs.

“I do not know how you put up with him on a regular basis, I truly do not,” Logan sighs.

“It’s a miracle I haven’t suffocated him in his sleep, it really is.”

*~*~*~*~*

The bus ride home is quiet. “I’m sorry,” Logan says.

Virgil passes him an earbud. “What do you mean?”

“I did not toss to you nearly as much as I have in previous and practice games when you were on the court.”

“No need to apologize for that, man. I wasn’t in as much as normal, and you utilized the rest of the team to the best of your ability. And we won, didn’t we? I’m not offended, I’m not gonna break up with you over it.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil tilts his head to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Take your post-tournament nap, Popsicle. We gotta build up our strength for tomorrow.”

Logan puts the earbud in, leans his head against Virgil’s shoulder; Virgil leans against him in turn, and they’re asleep before the bus crests the next hill.

#starshinewrites #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #platonic TDRLAP #platonic creativitwins #background analogical #background dukeceit

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thewolfisawake · 2 years

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Asier

H I haven't had a time of talking about the sword boy in quite a while. Which is a bit of a shame because I like the idea of his story. I think the stories of tsukumogami are usually sad in that all they want is to either protect their owners or be able to do what they're meant for. And I wanted to try that to be honest. It is a bit weird to use tsukumogami for what Asier is but it is the most accurate to his situation.

He is a weapon (yes he can change into any weapon, not just a sword!) that technically could have three sorts of masters. One are the ones that originally wielded him. These are the Empyreans, with his longest and most beloved user being Aleksandra. That right and loyalty extends to the Empyrean-blooded, whom amongst my muses are Kesil, Artemis, Sorin, Makari, Arsene and Belun. However, he doesn't really know them. He'd get this feeling if he came across them though.

Second would be those of the Byström, one of the families of the European branch of the Bastion. There has been some mistakes with the thought that it is the Bastion he has ties to. And thus could be wielded by them. However that is not true. It's only that family. The problem is that those that HAD wielded him had encouraged his freedom. So he had left in pursuit of the freedom they told him of. He discovered that vision they held for him...but the family he had given his loyalty to was no longer the same. Which drove him to be reluctant to ever come back. But he had heard of some changes in the last couple generation and so had been curious but because of being out of the loop, he is behind on how the organization works. Those of this family that could wield him would be @arcxnumvitae's Emil, his aunt Petra and maybe Katarina (her elven blood may make it a bit difficult for him since it was just the Byström he made that oath to).

Lastly is one that makes it open for him and that is anyone that has earned that trust from Asier. Which is far different from his previous two. Because by now he has his own mind and heart to make that judgment rather than being created for or being the first to teach him humanity. It's literally just how he comes to this new being. Although Asier doesn't really see himself being able to have one of these. Which he finds both lovely and lonely. Since in a sense this means there are no conflicts that require a weapon of his caliber. However it is very lonely in that he was a weapon and that he'd never see use again. And a weapon that does not fell, well, that's not much of a weapon now is it?

#{Asier Answers

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averykedavra · 4 years

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Oo a title you say? I suck with titles but uhhhhhhh 'Ancient Emotions' let's go with that sure. -Willow

Hi Willow! And shh, you’re amazing. This one goes out to @sleepless-in-starbucks and their top-tier QPP losleep content.

When Remy was a young god, he had big dreams for immortality. You know, break some mortals’ hearts, get some temples that matched his own fabulousness, watch civilizations rise and fall, cause one or seven wars, all that jazz. He was the god of Love, after all. Love, from what he’d seen, was the best weapon of destruction in the whole arsenal. He was going to have fun with this whole god thing.

What he didn’t expect was the endless expectations. Because apparently, as God of Love, he had to understand love or some ridiculous bullshit. So everyone in the whole entire world wanted to ask him for advice. They’d line up at his temple and sacrifice him goats and request his opinion on whether their boyfriend was really a keeper, ‘cause he seemed like the right sort of guy, but maybe they were just forcing themselves to love him as a rebound, and could Remy maybe tell them if he actually liked them or just put up with them for their looks?

Remy had not signed up for that shit. But despite his endless responses of “look, I dunno, love’s weird, do whatever and don’t ask me,” everyone kept coming. For some reason, they thought he was qualified to give advice about love. Remy, an asexual aromantic god who could honestly not care less about all that shit. Yeah, he was the God of Love, but he just threw love darts at people. Cleaning up the messy aftermath was not his territory.

And it even extended to his fellow gods. When Roman, God of Storytelling, had a huge all-consuming crush on Janus, God of Forests? He flopped on Remy’s couch and wailed for seven whole hours. When Virgil, God of Fire, started falling for Remus, God of War? Remy got an earful of complaining every time Virgil stopped by. Even Patton, God of the Hearth, had gotten mixed up with some mortal named Emile and spent a long time sighing about Emile’s “perfect eyes.”

Remy was absolutely and totally done. If they wanted to be lovesick fools, fine. But could they be lovesick fools out of earshot? And could they stop looking at Remy with that little hopeful expression when they were finished ranting? Like, what was Remy supposed to do about it? Play matchmaker? Ugh. Honestly, why’d he become a love God anyway? If he didn’t understand romantic love--didn’t experience romantic love--who decided he should be in charge of that?

So Remy decides to figure it out. There was no use sitting around and sulking when he could be getting to the bottom of things. Maybe if he figures out what went wrong, he can get everyone to stop asking him for advice. Or maybe he can fix whatever’s broken inside of him and learn how love actually works. For help, he grabs the god of Knowledge, Logan. He has a stick up his butt a mile long, but he’s never asked Remy for love advice, so he’s got that going for him.

Together, they venture to the edge of the world. They find a castle, crumbled and ancient, empty of all people. Beyond it is only a waterfall cascading into nothingness. Remy knows the answer is here. Logan agrees. Somewhere in this castle on the edge of the world is the truth about where the gods came from, why they were chosen, and what went wrong with Remy. They just have to dig deeper than anyone’s ever gone, find memories and emotions from the beginning of time itself, and finally understand the gods that have puzzled philosophers for centuries.

Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, right?

Hey, Remy’s got Logan, who’s ridiculously smart and powerful and makes Remy laugh and wrinkles his nose when he’s concentrating. (Remy doesn’t love Logan, of course--he’s defective, he doesn’t want to kiss anyone. But Logan’s...he makes Remy happy. If Remy wasn’t such a lone wolf, he’d consider being Logan’s friend. Or maybe something more. Not romantic, but something else.)

Still. It doesn’t matter. Remy’s weird-confusing feelings about Logan don’t matter. Logan’s growing hesitance about the idea of Remy being a bad god doesn’t matter. If Remy’s hunch is correct, there’s something wrong with Remy. And to fix it, Remy might have to change for good.

Or find someone else to take his place.

Send me a made-up fic title and I’ll tell you what i would write for it!

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