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#and he's not equal to a god. certainly not the goddess of magic. and his attempts to insist that he is are only met with a pat on the head
powdermelonkeg · 4 months
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Thoughts on the thunder wizard again.
Genuinely, I find Gale's relationship with Mystra to be fascinating when you consider all its facets. Unhealthy, imbalanced, definitely poisonous, but also very, very intricate with a lot of blurred edges to it. One of those things where you're both like "wow, what the hell, that's horrible" but also "that makes perfect sense for their characters, and while I would NEVER, I know why they would, and why it happened."
You've got a wizard who doesn't know what real love is, who thinks he's finally being shown it by the person he adores most. His greatest fantasy, his most potent joy, his most heartfelt aspirations, and they were all offered to him.
And he wants to see what all she's hiding from him, because of course he does. She's the keeper of all things forbidden to him. The empire of Netheril reached magical heights that will never be touched again, and all that knowledge is beyond her curtain. She loves him, right? Surely, if he proves himself enough, she'll let him grasp that power he so desperately wants.
And not even in the power-hungry sense! All that magic Mystra's locked up was accessible during Mystryl's reign. Think of all the answers to theories about the universe that are back there. Every question of "can this be done, and what would it do" would be answered, if he could just bargain hard enough.
She loves him, right?
Surely, if he proves himself enough...
And then, on the other hand, Mystra. Once Midnight, her human personality has been subsumed by the goddess of magic and her duty to the Weave. She has a responsibility to magic, she IS magic.
Then along comes this mortal boy who knows how to handle her Weave. Who doesn't try to wrestle with and dominate, who sings to it. He handles it with such ease and grace—it's not just that he could be Chosen, but he deserves it. To put her Weave in the hands of someone so intrinsically in tune with it, who understands its potential with a wonder like no other. Few enough can handle the raw power that comes with being Chosen, but this one? This one is perfect.
And he adores you. And you adore him, like one would a beautiful butterfly that's landed on their finger. And he's willing to be devoted to you in all things, not out of transaction like most of your worshipers are, but out of love for you, your craft, your magic. You're so deeply and utterly charmed by him.
And it's not like Mystra hasn't walked this path before.
She gives him what he desires, because what he desires is her. And, in a different way, she desires him. She wants him to be her representation in the world. She indulges his adoration with her own presence, and takes indulgence herself in mortal comforts. He's never satisfied with her answers, but who could blame him? She keeps a whole world away from mortals, because she knows what such unfettered power might bring about (again).
And the wizarding prodigy's ambition is lit (again).
And the height of power is reached for (again).
And she stops him (again, again, again).
She does care for him. She doesn't want to see her little butterfly burn himself, and she doesn't want to be the one to ruin those wings.
But then he's not a butterfly. He's a mortal, wielding a weapon of murder, of her murder, and he's brought it to her doorstep because she told him "no." And he's cut himself on it, he doesn't know what it is, but it's hurt him—and it's only a fraction of the hurt it could do to her. How dare he want her help after threatening her?
(He didn't mean to.)
(He only wanted to help.)
(He only wanted. How human.)
She doesn't help him. If he wants to pursue Karsus' weaponry, it's his responsibility, his hubris, that led him to injuring himself on it. She's furious. She's hurt. She's cold.
(What fools these mortals be.)
But then, there's a greater threat to her. Something that could drown the Material in Karsus' failings. And that little boy, who nicked himself on the sword he lifted, still wants her help.
It's a fair trade, isn't it? She'll forgive him, let him into her domain again, if he accepts his punishment and goes into battle for her. He picked up a sword, it's appropriate that he learns to use it in her name, right?
If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't hesitate. If he really wanted to serve her with the Netherese Orb, he would jump at the opportunity to do so. He would have to give up a few petty things in the process, ("petty," she calls mortality, as if family and home mean nothing, as if friends and love are finite. Because to her, they do mean nothing. Because to her, they are finite.) but it isn’t atonement without sacrifice, is it?
It's the tactical move. She's not above hurting one man to save a nation. It's not even the first time she's done it.
(Dornal Silverhand sends his regards.)
If he loves her, he'd die for her, because she'd let him into her paradise. If he doesn't love her, he won't, and she was justified in removing him from her grace.
He doesn't love her. Not anymore.
Does he hate her enough to try to take his dues?
Ambition has always been man's greatest folly.
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sytoran · 1 month
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𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 || mdg pt. 5
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timelines and lifelines have torn you and natasha apart, but the two of you are bound by the child you have created. though subjected to earth, loki, god of mischief, dangles the possibility of a future with natasha by making you a god.
pairing: goddess!natasha x mortal!reader (not for long)
note: this is the 5th installment to the goddess!nat universe, as per the 4k celebration! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains depictions of violence. this series is 18+ only.
word count: 1.8k
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Previously…
Your relationship with the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff, comes to a screeching halt. Torn apart by timelines and lifelines, you’re not coping well, and neither is Natasha — especially when she finds out she’s pregnant with your child.
On the other side of the universe, Loki, God of Mischief, breaks into your apartment to offer you a deal. Worse still, he eats your leftover pizza.
Now…
When you come back to consciousness, you feel like you’re floating. Not in the whimsical, psychedelic cocaine-induced way, but in the Help-I’m-Physically-Suspended-In-The-Air way. 
And it is true, much to your demise, because despite the fruitful hours of work spent in the gym, your arms and back can’t quite handle the excruciating pain of being strung taut like a rope.
Against the will of every screaming cell in your existence for you to fall the fuck back asleep, you forcefully sit up and open your eyes.
It takes about two seconds for the headache-worthy hangover to sink in, and three seconds for you to regret every godforsaken decision you had made the night prior.
Last night- oh, fuck. Last Friday night. 
(No, this isn’t going to entail a radio pop song with a curly black-haired Katy Perry, because the only curly black-haired one in this story is the God of Mischief himself. Both equally as sassy, but expounding on that would fracture the entirety of the space-time continuum.)
“Oh, you’re awake.” 
Speaking of the devil (quite literally), Loki forces you to bring your blurry gaze up to the cocky expression painting his angular face.
“Fuck you,” you spit, dry and hoarse, memories surging through your teetering consciousness. All you were aware of was the mother of your problems was the man himself.
Now, you were suspended like a puppet in your very own living room, strings of golden magic encircling your body, keeping you stretched to the edge of insurmountable agony.
“Funny,” Loki says dryly, eyes raking over your pathetic form. “That’s exactly what you said last night that put you in this position.”
You would’ve laughed, truly, if not for the ache in your ribs and your back and your– you get the point. “You offered me a proposition,” you comment, licking your cracked lips with distaste. 
“And you said ‘fuck you’ and threw up three bottles worth of alcohol on my ridiculously expensive snake-scaled shoes before promptly passing out from your hissy fit of a heartbreak.”
“Deserved.”
“I will hang you upside down.”
You roll your eyes – however much you can roll them in this position. “You gave me an offer. That means that I had a say in this, and I certainly did not consent to take part in this BDSM-worthy fantasy of yours.”
Loki scoffs at this, shifting in his seat. Your seat, actually, his black robes draped over your armchair like it belonged to him. 
“My sex life is none of your business, and more than often entails men,” Loki begins, putting a finger up. “The only reason I’m taking interest in a hopelessly lovesick woman-lover is because you have something that I want.”
You exhale roughly, lungs and ribs screaming in protest. You weren’t of a godly status by any means, but based on his identity and the fact that a God was lurking around Earth, you were competent enough to figure out what he wanted.
“You wanna get back to the land of the Gods,” you state, eyes narrowing in seriousness. “Like me, you’ve done some shit that made SHIELD put a target on your back. Except it’s ten times worse, considering you’re a God. That’s why you’re here. What you want is connections, because I have – I had – a relationship with Natasha Romanoff.”
Natasha.
It pains you, to even put it in the past tense, that what you had with Natasha would only ever be history.
“Oh wow,” Loki responds, acting shocked. “There’s actually more to you than this himbo attitude you exude.”
You don’t give him the pleasure of a response to his provoking, despite your incessant need to sucker-punch that face of his. But uncovering his plan has that layer of composure slipping, for a second, and you delight in it for what it’s worth.
"Put me down first," you say instead through gritted teeth, looking up with a ferocious glint in your eyes.
"Say yes first," Loki answers promptly, folding his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied grin.
"Put me down and or I won't consider your absurd request," you try again, a wracking cough making your stomach lurch in pain.
"Funny you think you're in a position of power," the arrogant god taunts. "Who's to say I won't torture you to the brink of death until I get what I want?"
"...Who's to say I'd eventually break?" you say finally, narrowing your gaze. You sure as hell were scared as fuck, but you had to survive. "Threats only work on people who've got something to lose. I'm forbidden from ever seeing the love of my life again – I've got nothing to lose, y'know? No amount of torture will get you what you want."
Your little speech of sorts, delivered with an unwavering tone despite the pain coursing through your body, plays out perfectly. Loki's gaze is unreadable as he contemplates upon your counter-proposition.
Unceremoniously, you're dropped to the ground, hitting reality with a grunt of pain. “Shit,” you wheeze, clutching at your ribs with sore wrists. “Warn a girl, man.”
Loki waves you off dismissively. “The pain won’t matter anymore.”
“Wait,” you struggle to say, reaching out to nothingness as the man closes his eyes and raises his hands to the lands you once roamed.
It’s only then that you realise you’re surrounded by candles, so many candles. You’re in the center of some kind of ritual board, and what you assume are ‘offerings’ circle you.
From skulls to black flames, you know something is wrong. Very wrong. Loki is muttering incantations under his breath, a language beyond your human tongue, and the pressure in your room rises to an extent that forces you downwards.
“What,” you ask, exhaling roughly against your cracked ribs. “What kind of God am I going to become?”
Your question goes unanswered, lost in the swirling black flames that surround you. Loki’s eyes open again, and this time they are completely black. He begins a chant, crafted from an inhuman tongue, a language you’d never heard before.
That’s when the pain starts.
You scream, brain waves throbbing, a loud ringing sound echoing in your ears. Psychedelia takes over your conscience, producing images all around you, dark and distorted and everything you thought you’d buried.
“ибяѓюгэю юдякиэҁ, эиѫч ҩ рэд.”
Unbridled darkness, enemy of peace.
Natasha’s face is at the forefront of your mind, unblemished and happy and everything you’d ever wanted. You reach out, spluttering and breathless, trying to grasp that wistful memory like it’d materialize in front of you, like she could ever be yours.
“бцэт юҩщи ҩцядрҩи дю ғдг ҩця ҩиэҁ.”
Put down your weapons and fall to your knees.
Her face gets shattered into smithereens, scattered throughout the dark swirls of your mind, overtaken by shadows. Horrifying screams and flashes of a graveyard overwhelm you, and you yell through the misery for the love of your life.
“тҩ фэн тнэ юэҁѓяэ ҩғ џэиəэдисэ lə'”
To quench the desires of vengeance and rage.
Fury slugs through you, as you crawl away from cold hands that pull you back. “No!” You yell, but your voice is not yours anymore. The only thing to describe what you feel is chaos, darkness creeping in from the shadows, a slithering worm into your ear, a rotting carcass and the stench of carrion.
“ҩҁэ бҩиэҁ сдҁт ҩғ ҁсчнэҁ дию бдюэҁ.”
To see bones cast of scythes and blades.
The world snaps from reality, and you get flung into a different dimension. This place you’re trapped in is unfamiliar. You’re standing on a pile of dead human bodies, and there are ghouls and demons cheering your name. Blackness seeps through your veins, infiltrating your mindwires. 
“Revenge,” you spit, a devilish noise, and the cheers rise again.
You scream, as black wings tear through your back, ripping your collared shirt and spreading towards the sky. You launch from the depths of whatever hellhole that may have been, an inhuman screech echoing around the void, soaring towards the heavens in search of the one you’d lost.
“ҩѫэҩя, гдск-щѓəэю юэџѓг, эт ндҁ иғцяг”
Come forth, black-winged devil, let chaos unfurl
Upon descending on holy ground, unfamiliar faces intrude into your mind, prominent and unmistaken. Backlogged information begs its worth — God of Thunder. Goddess of Magic. God of Science. God of Justice. 
Then one word rings above all, high and mighty, and the darkness of your mind clears to reveal the people that had taken your Natasha away.
SHIELD.
“энҩгю яҩѫ нэг, ҩю ҩғнэ Циюэящҩягю.”
Behold from hell, Ruler of the Underworld.
Reality drives into your side like a thousand semi-trucks, bright and flashing, and then you’re back in your living room. You stay on the ground, all-fours, spluttering and gasping for air. 
Natasha.
Black wings flap behind you, resplendent and marvelous. Those had been real.
Arising from the ground, gone is the fear in your eyes. No more shreds of hope. No more sense of justice. Your blackened eyes burn red, searching for Loki. He stands in the corner of the room, and he seems so much smaller now, compared to you and your bloodlust.
“She was mine,” you growl, dangerously, fearsome and inhuman.
“She is yours,” The God of Mischief answers, marveling at his creation, for there was nothing that could stop you now.
***
“Rockabye baby on the treetop,” Natasha sings softly, a hand gently caressing the swell of her stomach. Colours sweep into galaxies as nightfall arrives, cloaking her land in gentle beauty.
“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” As if on cue, the wind gets a little chillier. Worry clouds Natasha’s face, edging in on her safe haven.
“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.” A holographic image of The God of Justice materializes before her eyes. It meant that it was an urgent message, from one God to the next.
“The SHIELD base is being attacked by an unknown force. We’re in grave danger,” Steve says, urgent and frantic. Screams and chaos can be heard in the background, and the God barely ducks a crashing marble pillar.
Natasha almost scoffs and switches off the image. The Gods had ignored her very existence ever since they had banished you, which was convenient in hiding her pregnancy, but at the same time rather annoying, now that they were begging for help.
That is, until Steve persisted further. “Natasha. This perpetrator has power beyond measure, dark power. It could even exceed Loki’s.”
“......What does this harbinger of hell want?” Natasha asks, steely eyes surveying her homeland.
“Natasha,” Steve repeats, weary eyes hooded with anxiety. “They’re looking for you.”
Down will come baby, cradle and fall.
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so that happened.... any thoughts about our new and improved y/n, ruler of the underworld?? loki rlly stirred up a lot of shit huh
reblog or no y/n x natasha reunion
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amysgiantbees · 5 months
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I think all interpretations of Mystra in Baulder's Gate 3 are valid and I'm not trying to take any away from anyone. Especially since stories of abuse and abusers can obviously be incredibly personal. However, I see people often painting her as either actively villainous and malignant or as the victim of Gale. Again, I think that's valid, but I see her as not quite in the middle - I believe there's no ethical way for a god to have a relationship with a mortal, like a boss or professor is always going to have an unethical relationship with a worker or pupil so she's still in the wrong - but still somewhere between the two extremes.
(Side note: I wish the game had in game books or something with more of the lore from DND that it was sticking to. They play fast and loose with DND lore (valid it's quite frankly convoluted), but Mystra and Gale's dynamic can be really affected by that. It would just give a bit of clarity.)
Firstly, like I said a god can't have a romantic relationship with a mortal and that be healthy. They will always have more power, socially, physically, etc. They have followers they can turn against you; you've heard about them your whole life and likely worship them; they can smite you. It's like trying to date Jesus there's no way for that to be normal. People literally thought for a while that Gale was wearing a matching earring with Mystra until they realized he was wearing the equivalent of a cross. However, that is still a reminder he wears of how as a wizard he’s irrevocably linked to her. That's why Gale is so insecure in game. Why he wants to be more powerful to be worthy of you. Why if you're in a relationship he's always asking what you need, "how can I help?" "Is something on your mind, you can always unburden yourself with me?" "Anything I can do for you, consider it most enthusiastically done". Mystra set an impossible standard that he was literally incapable of meeting and is haunted by.
Mystra is tricky with relationship dynamics because she has a precedent of not leaving all her lovers’ mortals. "Gale's folly" as he calls it, to be her equal, is not so wild an idea with Mystra. She helped the god Azuth become a deity and he was initially one of her mortal lovers. Although, Azuth isn't one of her lovers now and, they technically did not even become equals he is her subordinate. You understand where he got the idea however, and how he thought it could work. So, Gale is ambitious and arrogant sometimes, but I would argue wanting to be equal with your lover, especially when she's done that before, is not totally unreasonable.
I don't know beyond the power dynamic, how you have a normal relationship with a god, a god who is your everything and you're temporary for them. She doesn't need to eat so his other skill isn't important and likely uninteresting to her. If he tried to give her a normal gift, there is nothing beyond something as big as the Karsus Weave that another lover or follower hasn't given her a million times over or she hasn't seen and experienced as she watches over mortals. Like he probably can't tell her about a book he's read without her already knowing all about it, depending on how omnipotent she is. By being with her everything else falls away, until there's just magic, just her.
Gale says "I sought to cross her boundaries" which is certainly a charged statement. He absolutely did cross her boundaries and should not have. Even if I believe Mystra is more in the wrong two wrongs don’t make a right. I also think Mystra's appearance plays into this feeling particularly violating to some people. People like to joke about her looking plain for a goddess, but she does look like a regular mortal woman. Women have a reputation as more often being the victims of things like boundary crossing and she looks like a typical victim, not an all-powerful goddess. For example, if she looked like Shar I feel like people would empathize with her less. Which is a clever mechanic to make Gale’s story opaquer both in the text and non-diegetic interpretations. Both the writers and Mystra could be using her form to make her more unassuming and less blatantly other from Gale. So, I really get how people see her as the victim here even if I disagree.
On the topic of charged statements Gale calls Mystra his "teacher". Mystra holds the keys to secret knowledge. She will literally always know more than him. In a way he will never stop being her student. He does use the past tense to refer to her being his teacher though. So, she isn’t actively teaching him, but it does add an extra uncomfortable element in the imbalance of power that already exists. I personally believe if the Spell Plague is a part of the BG3 timeline (although it’s dubious since no one mentions it) she most likely only started actively interacting and teaching him as an adult. So, she was more like his professor than teacher which does have less uncomfortable implications. Ex-student teacher relationships have a predatory feel to them due to the age of the student initially. Thus, ex-student professor feels less fraught. This grey area around the nature of their schooling relationship is one of the many reasons why giving up the crown is such a positive ending. He becomes a professor and protects his students like she didn't protect him. I think it's also telling that in the epilogue if you play as Gale, you get a letter from Elminster, another Chosen of Mystra's, who tells you he has been your teacher since you were eight. Which is certainly uncomfortable. Whether Mystra was his teacher as an adult or a child an agent of hers was his teacher then. Beyond worshipping her thus she had even more influence in his life from a young age, even if Elminster taught him of his own volition.
Another thing that reminds me of abuse dynamics is that Mystra gets Gale alone and away from you. In the Stormshore Tabernacle Mystra does not allow anyone to accompany Gale for support. It just reminds me of how abusers isolate you. I'm pretty sure Gale even has dialogue about how being her Chosen was isolating and did not make him popular. Which you could argue is not her fault how others react, or that it’s Gale’s personality, but I find it telling paired with everything else.
As I've said the power imbalance is severe. It is not necessarily quite as bad as people describe it though. From what Wikipedia tells me Mystra can't take Gale's magic away from him completely, a thing people often site as a threat she has over him and part of her abuse. "Mystryl had ultimate control over all magic and could shape it to her will, and she could withdraw a being's access to the Weave and prevent it from using spells of any sort, and in an even harsher restriction she could also prevent a being from using any sort of magic whatsoever if she so decreed. These conditions persisted until she removed them.
Mystryl could even deny deities access to the Weave, but she couldn't deny other gods the ability to grant their worshipers spells through prayer." She stopped this though as it says. Which admittedly isn't a firm reassurance that it won't happen again- it would still worry me - but apparently it just isn't a thing that she does anymore. Plus, it can be interpreted that she also isn't allowed to anymore because of Ao (the head god) banning it as it would count as interfering with her godly portfolio. Thus, she's not necessarily quite as tyrannical as people worry.
Mystra is attracted to great spellcasters, such as arch mages, like Gale and Elminster. She specifically seeks people who are ambitious and crave power. Everyone's met a gifted child that turns into a mentally ill, burnt-out, average person when they're older, I would say I'm one. I would argue that natural talent or being a child prodigy, like Gale, isn't enough to get her attention or at least keep her interest. Even sorcerers would have to work on control. You need a certain level of ambition and drive to keep being greater. So, this is kind of Mystra's folly. To keep finding ambitious young men, give them the ultimate confidence boost with your attention as well as the ultimate temptation of magical secrets you keep and then get surprised that not all of them fall neatly into line like Elminster. As Minsc says "Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young prideful boys, hm?" This isn't to say it's okay that he crossed her boundaries but again like I said she shouldn't have sought him out in the first place. Also, I, a neurodivergent person, see Gale as one too. I can't imagine someone dangling everything there is to know about my special interest in front of me like a tease.
Gale being tempted by the magic that he couldn't use is understandably vexing because before this iteration of Mystra he would have been able to. Up until the fall of Neverall all powerful enough magic users were able to do the magic she now hides. As her wiki says, "she laid down new rules for all spellcasters, banning spells above “9th” level, limiting who had access to magic, limiting how many spells of each level could be held in the mind, increasing the time it took to cast spells, and forcing long periods of memorization or prayer each day to replace spells cast previously." Karsus essentially went and ruined it for everyone so I get why Gale would want to be an exception to the rule. Mystra loves him, why shouldn't she trust him? However, Karsus did kill her, so I understand why this is a hard boundary for her.
Mystra is a god. She has a certain amount of distance from all mortals. She knows that all mortals die. As seen in her dialogue if you play as Gale and talk to her in the Tabernacle, she must balance the weight of many lives over a few. When asked if she cares about lives you might take if you explode, she says, "Such eddies are unexceptional. Souls arrive and depart your plane with every tide, in circumstances just and unjust." As a god you must have a certain amount of distance from mortals, it'd drive you mad otherwise. It's also what you want from a god. They should understand the bigger picture and not get caught in the weeds. Gods should not experience empathy the way mortals do; they'd get overwhelmed or go crazy otherwise. I see this otherworldly attitude of hers in Elminster’s line "She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness." Implying that she feels things differently, more inhumanly. Mystra is a good goddess but incapable of being a good lover because of this. So, she entered a relationship with a mortal who worshiped her with the knowledge that she could never reciprocate those same feelings back, there would always be a distance. Which is an obviously toxic thing to do, and she should have known better, Gale isn't her first lover.
Mystra being bad at mortal emotions and empathy is seen in other dialogue of hers at the Tabernacle too. She tells Gale, "You were already worthy. What you lacked was patience". What is she trying to say with this? You were worthy of being my Chosen? He knows that he already was her Chosen so that wasn’t what he wanted. Is she saying he was worthy of godhood? I doubt she was contemplating making him a god. There's no deep sorrow coming from her like someone who was thinking of sharing everything with him - if Ao would even allow that. I believe it makes the most sense that she believes he just wanted more power. That would make the patience line coherent. She thinks he just rushed into finding something to make him more powerful instead of waiting for her to grant him more power. Her Chosen can use greater powers like Silver Flame after a while. However, this demonstrates her lack of understanding of his character. He didn’t entirely want more power; he was planning on giving the tome to her. I don’t even think he was even aware it was something he could use. He thought it was HER weave not a separate thing of its own. He mainly wanted to be her equal. Gale isn't hungry for power for the sake of it. He always wants it for a deeper reason. He wouldn't have been content just following in Elminster's footsteps, being an incredibly powerful ex of hers one day. He wants her to love him with all the devotion that he has for her. He isn't with her for power, or at least that's not the main reason. You see it with your TAV if you romance him, Gale falls madly and quickly in love with people, love is all encompassing for him. He’s strictly monogamous he isn’t interested in sharing someone with others. He's not content to just have a fraction of her heart and give her all his.
Mystra's distance from humanity and how toxic these relationships can be is seen in the story of her possession of Elué and their relationship with Dornal Silverhand. Done to create the Seven Sisters to preserve her legacy. Being Chosen is not some altruistic thing Mystra grants to the best magic users for a job well done, or at least it isn't just that. They also become her insurance if she gets killed again, which is what these children were for too. She loves her Chosen but they’re also tools to her. She possessed Elué to sleep with Dornal (assaulting him I would argue as they make a point to not tell him about the possession) which deteriorates Elué. Although, I've seen people say that she's had a lot of bad relationships with mortal men, I haven't read the books I'm just going by the wiki and Wikipedia, but admittedly I can't see anyone she's screwed up quite like Dornal and Gale. Although, like I've said I don't think any close relationship she has with a mortal would be healthy. The closest I got besides them was Sammaster. However, from what the wiki says it's unclear whether his downfall was Mystra's fault or if that was just Algashon's manipulation to get him to blame everyone but himself.  
I've seen people site that one way that their relationship is unhealthy is that Mystra is thousands of years older than Gale. Now depending on when and how she started interacting with him (this is where what I said about DND lore comes in, Mystra's death can change this whole timeline) this can absolutely be toxic. But an adult age gap, even thousands of years, isn't unhealthy I would argue. Once you reach maturity an adult's an adult. No one is up in arms about Astarion being 350. Also, Mystra maybe even tries to balance this. Her page on Wikipedia states that part of the power's her Chosen get is long lives, like Eliminster.  
Gale reports in the Tabernacle that he's never been nervous before but in Sharess' Caress he says that he's insecure and even gets Tara to leave the room when he changes. I think saying he never gets nervous might be a bit of postering on his part, but admittedly that's totally up for interpretation (as it all of this is). From Mystra's wiki "As a goddess, Mystra could shape change at will and mortals who saw her reported she changed constantly". So, a man with insecurities and a person who literally never needs to feel insecure could be fine but with all the other points is just another reason Mystra should never have instigated anything.
Mystra states in the Tabernacle that she has been feeding Gale's orb with herself. She is the Weave. She has been feeding herself to this void so Gale can live. Gale was feeding on the weave in the magical items he consumed, thus unbeknownst to him feeding on her. He then continues to do this through the spell Elminster performs just more directly. As people have pointed out she could have helped him anytime. But this comes as a massive sacrifice to her. He did unleash something that damages and threatens her. He also unleashed something that is likely traumatic to her. From the dev notes from her dialogue, she is still angry at Karsus for killing her. The crown of Karsus is what allows her to control the weave in him. It's a different type of magic as she states, like Shar's Shadow Weave, one she can't control without the crown only feed. So, she couldn't have stopped the orb before he got the crown. She could only help Gale feed it. Some people say she could have cured him right away, but I don't think that's the case.
The Karsite Weave is dangerous. As Mystra says "You've unleashed something that would consume all magic in existence". However, I've seen people compare Gale's fragment to the Spell Plague, which I think is a bit much. If he was allowed to live and keep feeding off her, especially with a Chosen's life span then it could be. But Mystra need only send someone to kill him or stop feeding the orb and he will erupt, and it will be all over. She continues to hold all the cards.
I do believe she maybe could have prevented this all in the first place. Gale states that reading the Karsus book was like a flare going up to her, also that she hears every spell (Another issue that Gale must feel watched and scrutinised every time he performs magic). I don't believe with this power that Gale could have easily researched and found the Tome of Gateways without Mystra knowing something about it. His research likely would have shot up flares like when researching Karsus. If she knows every portal that he creates or spell he makes she should have known something. Plus, Gale's fine with charisma but not great and it's not like he's proficient in deception. Either she was paying him ridiculously little attention (and in the final product of the game they are together until he finds the Karsite Weave so it's unlikely that she was ignoring him) or she had her own reasons for letting him go ahead. Which does seem unlikely considering how awful Karsus' Folly was for her but if it's true then it is obviously toxic to let someone you supposedly love risk themselves and then blame them for everything about it.
I don't believe Gale was likely a minor when Mystra started a sexual or romantic relationship with him. For one, she was probably kind of dead, depending on whether her DND lore is canon or if Larian have fudged the dates. Also, Gale states that he's had previous lovers before her. Which could imply that she never actively sexually groomed him as a youth. Or that he had lovers then her all as a teen. I don't think if she was grooming him, he would have taken lovers while it was happening though, as he states she's "a jealous goddess". Her reputation could have partially groomed him though, worship from a young age of this beautiful woman surely influenced him. She also could arguably have been not sexually grooming him but grooming him to be her Chosen. Furthermore, I know some people use the term grooming for all ages, but Oxford languages defines it as relating to minors. I think if you want to use the term grooming for any age because it fits better for you VALID! But I haven't been groomed so I feel more comfortable sticking to the dictionary definition and just using the term manipulation for when he's older.
Gale, like I've said is flawed. For one he's arrogant and ambitious. If you leave him unchecked, he will become a god of ambition. However, it is not that hard to turn him away from this. I love how all the characters deal with their circumstances differently. It makes them all feel unique and human. If you compare say Astarion who is also power hungry to Gale you see how power isn't that big of a deal to him truly, feeling enough is (power also isn't Astarion's true want, its freedom, but I digress). However, Astarion has multiple dialogue scenes where he argues his case for Ascension and disapproves if you tell him outright that it's a bad idea (or at least I'm pretty sure he used to, with every update I swear they change the characters approval/disapproval). Whereas Gale gets you to the bottom of the bookstore and is like Hey, sorry I've been depressed but what if I was God? There's no manipulation here, he's not trying very hard beyond hiding his intentions till then. He can be talked out of it easily too. He doesn't disapprove if you tell him outright no. I did neutral answers, including telling him to do what he wants, and it still ended with everyone reacting like I'd convinced him not to be a god. He brings it up again at the end. But there's no persuasion role to convince him. You're just like No Gale and he's like Cool. His blasé attitude certainly doesn't scream power hungry. He does need a good influence though. Left to his own devices with no help from you he would go through with godhood. But it’s not like he doesn’t try to surround himself with good people, like Tara, and do the right thing.
Furthermore, he doesn't want to become a god just for power. He wants to feel worthy, to feel in control. He wants to do good and help people. Which is an admittedly stupid thing to think. Gale is the one to tell you in act one that the gods can't interfere Ao won't allow them but under the bookstore he apparently believes now he's just built different. Gale bounces between moods. He can be suicidal then want to be immortal. Overconfident then anxious and insecure. Power hungry then chastising you for doing the same. I think it reflects how his quest is the least black and white, he's still figuring himself out. But he's not a sweet darling who has never done anything wrong (like bragging to Loroakan about his upcoming godhood) or truly power hungry. With the evil pixie lamp, he tells you that he did it for practical reasons and disapproves of you wanting to do it for power. Similarly, he doesn't want The Necromancy of Thay except to consume and destroy it. I think Gale stands on a precipice between extremes.
So, to wrap it all up. I don't think that Gale is some scheming abuser. He's certainly not a perfect victim but you don't have to be to deserve better. Mystra in turn I don't think is trying to hurt Gale. She likely doesn’t understand the extent of the damage she’s doing. I don't think she can properly empathize with him. She's a goddess first and a lover second as she always has been. Knowing this she should stop having close relationships with her followers. It's a lonely existence being a god but that's the price you pay for that kind of power. Mystra is absolutely the abuser and should have known better but she's certainly not evil. At least that's my two coppers about it.
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jaeltree · 1 year
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Mozenrath, what's your plan for if you attract the attention of an eldritch being like Chaos or the Etherial? Do you believe they'll show up at any point?
“Chaos?” He grinned, which gave way to a laugh that started low. Then grew louder and louder as it dragged on. “Oh, oh! Yes; a million times yes!” Fate and Chaos; the two driving forces of the universe… The Supreme Being and its antithesis subordinate? Chaos? The god of its own namesake?
The god that has more magic in its whisker than a small army of djinnis?
What kind of megalomaniac would he be if he didn’t seek their attention?
Though he wasn’t stupid. He would need to greatly level up his game; which, again, led back to the djinni. Everything seemed to come back to Aladdin’s djinni.
Mozenrath calmed himself down, a smile lingering on his face and in his voice. “Now, for the Ethereal…” something that was a little more within his league as of currently. Though that would obviously change for his benefit. “As you may as well know, civilisations rise and fall. Whether if it’s due from within the internal structure, outward, or invading outside forces. No doubt this has been happening since humanity multiplied enough to nomad and settle.”
Mozenrath read surviving primary sources of ancient Babylonia. The clay tablets, while somewhat damaged, described an ethereal being. One the Babylonians thought to be a forgotten goddess who helped Marduk battle against Tia-mat. And that this goddess was not only angry at humanity disturbing the peace divinity enjoyed so much, but also for being forgotten as one of humanity’s rulers.
Mozenrath didn’t believe the ‘ethereal being’ to be a goddess, but he did find it very interesting that she arrived around the time Cyrus the Great conquered Babylonia for Persia, freed the Israelites, and allowed them passage to Palestine. If Mozenrath had to take a wild guess, he would say that she had something to do with that, if Babylonia fell in less than a century of its founding. And that she did not take kindly to slavery. Or at the very least, how the Babylonians practiced it.
Which meant she would not take kindly to him.
Though it really wasn’t a matter he was bothered with. There was simply no way he’d allow her to end his reign with the fall of his citadel, and bring total destruction to his land. The very idea was preposterous.
Besides, he had his sights set on Genie’s magic. Once he had that, then he’ll focus on greater entities. All of which will be used as stepping stones to become an equal to Chaos in power; then, eventually, Fate.
Ultimately he will have all-encompassing cosmic power.
“The Ethereal, whatever she is, can certainly try to ‘pass judgement’ on me. In fact, I welcome her to the Land of the Black Sands.”
“As for my plan to attract Chaos’ attention… Well,” he chuckled, “that would be telling.”
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twh-news · 3 years
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How Loki Shapeshifted From Nordic Folklore to a Marvel Icon
by Sara Durn
There are more than 800 years between the stories of Viking god Loki first being written down and his arrival (in the superb Tom Hiddleston) in the Marvel cinematic universe in 2011’s Thor. The new Disney+ series Loki, set to be released on June 9, is primed to explore more antics of Thor’s trickster brother as he attempts to fix the timeline he helped break in Avengers: Endgame. Among his many talents, Loki has cheated death a few times in the MCU, but that amounts to child’s play for this god.
In Norse mythology, Loki causes just as much confusion as his Marvel iteration. Though there aren’t any stories of him outwitting death, there are plenty of myths where he shapeshifts, swaps genders, or tricks gods into killing other gods. In the Marvel universe, he’s quite prone to allegiance swapping. Let’s dig into this troublemaker’s journey.
What is Loki’s origin?
The legends surrounding the Norse god are first documented in writing around the 13th century, primarily in Iceland. There are two versions of these legends that enter the historical record around the same time—the Poetic Edda and the Prose Edda. The Poetic Edda is an anonymous collection of Old Norse poems that are mainly pulled from an Icelandic medieval manuscript known as the Codex Regius (some of the poems date back to 800 CE). The Prose Edda is an Old Norse textbook for composing poetry that was written by a single author, Snorri Sturluson, a colorful Icelandic historian, scholar, and lawspeaker.
“Within the myths, you can see Loki moving from being just mischievous to being absolutely evil. If you think of him as only being mischievous, he’s actually a creative force and often ends up getting the gods much of their magical possessions, like Thor’s Hammer, through his cunning.”
“Pretty much everything we know about Loki came from Snorri Sturluson,” Viking scholar Nancy Marie Brown, author of Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths, told io9. Brown says this was very appropriate given that “Snorri was quite a trickster figure himself.” While calling him the “Homer of the North,” Brown also acknowledges that Snorri spent a lifetime “double-crossing friends and family… scheming and plotting, blustering and fleeing”— a life that eventually led to his unheroic demise in a nightshirt where his (supposed) final words were “don’t strike!” In both Eddas, Loki is always portrayed as a cunning trickster. In the Prose Edda, Snorri describes Loki as “pleasing and handsome in appearance, evil in character, very capricious in behavior. He possessed to a greater degree than other [gods] the kind of learning that is called cunning.”
Besides appearances, Loki is always getting the gods into trouble and then cleverly extricating them from the mess he’s made. He fathers the Midgard Serpent destined to bring about Ragnarök, the end of the world in Norse mythology. He convinces the blind god Hodr to kill the beautiful and favored god Baldur. He kidnaps the goddess Idun to save his own hide from a furious giant. The mythological character is constantly switching sides—sometimes supporting the gods and sometimes their enemies, the giants. In the MCU, Loki is both hero and villain—in The Avengers he opened a wormhole in New York City releasing alien monsters and in Thor: Ragnarok he helped Thor save the Asgardians from Hela’s wrath.
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Thorwald’s Cross, a fragmented runestone depicting Odin being consumed. Image: Public Domain
Loki might have begun as a Norse god of fire—fitting considering how fire can be both “helpful and destructive,” said Brown. Fire can both burn down your house and cook you dinner. It’s tricky that way—like Loki. As Brown puts it, “You can see his two sides there [reflected in fire].” Brown also explains that there was likely a transformation in Loki over the centuries. “Within the myths, you can see Loki moving from being just mischievous to being absolutely evil. If you think of him as only being mischievous, he’s actually a creative force and often ends up getting the gods much of their magical possessions, like Thor’s Hammer, through his cunning.” Again, it’s just like Marvel’s Loki, who sometimes helps the other gods out, like when he teamed up with Thor to escape the Grandmaster in Thor: Ragnarok.
What is Loki’s relationship with the Devil?
In the long, slow conversion of the Vikings to Christianity that took place between the 9th and 12th centuries, Loki became a parallel to the Christian Devil. The creative, positive elements of him fell away leaving only the god favored by the Father (Odin/God) before getting cast out. (It does sound a bit like Lucifer, right?) Christianity paints a world that is far more black and white, good vs. evil than the Norse pagan religion—here’s little room for a grey, ambiguous figure like Loki. As Brown puts it, “The Christian religion insists that you’re either with us or against us. Whereas in what we understand of the pagan Viking religion, there were a lot of shades of grey. There was a spectrum on which you could move back and forth. You weren’t all one thing or all the other. You weren’t all female or all male. You weren’t all good or all evil. It was more human.”
Loki always moved fluidly between those two polarities—helping Thor in one story, causing an overthrow of the gods in another. In one tale, Loki shapeshifts into a mare, becoming the mother of Odin’s great 8-legged horse, Sleipnir. In another, he fathers the wolf Fenrir. The Church couldn’t really handle all that grey area Loki liked to inhabit, and so it eventually cast him as the devil himself. “[Monks] had to sort the gods into saints and devils, and Loki by being sexually ambiguous and also morally ambiguous falls into the devil [category],” explained Brown. Though Marvel’s Loki certainly channels a bit of the devil at times, we’ve luckily yet to see him become both mother and father to world-ending, multi-legged monsters in the Marvel Universe. But, there’s still time, especially with the new Disney+ series hitting the small screen.
When was Loki’s Revival?
After the Viking conversion, the Norse myths started to fade, and Loki with them—until the 1600s, when medieval manuscripts like those containing the Prose and Poetic Edda began to be translated. “The reason [these myths] became popular was because of nationalism,” Brown told us. “In the mid to late 1800s, there was the idea that what distinguished one nation from another was its cultural heritage.” This spurred Jacob Ludwig Karl Grimm and Wilhelm Carl Grimm—known to many simply as the Brothers Grimm—to go “collect the stories of the local people to prove that Germany was a nation, not a collection of states. You had the same thing happening in Ireland to prove that they were different from the English and you have the same thing happening in Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.” This eventually gave rise to the Nazis appropriating Norse myths in their twisted pursuit of alleging Aryan supremacy.
Following the Civil War, the United States also looked to the Middle Ages to redefine the country’s fractured identity. As Chris Bishop, author of Medievalist Comics and the American Century, explained to io9, “[the Middle Ages] offered an aesthetic that was individualistic (think: the knight errant, Robin Hood, etc.), given to interpretations of exceptionalism (Camelot, the once and future king), venerable (where old equalled established and respectable), and (unlike Classicism) Christian.” The Middle Ages, or more accurately the remixing of the Middle Ages known in academia as “medievalisms,” appealed to many Americans obsessed with ideas of American exceptionalism and singularity in the 19th century. Eventually the U.S.’s obsession with the Middle Ages made its way into comic books starting with Prince Valiant in 1937, a comic strip created by Hal Foster set in and around the legends of King Arthur. Other medievalist comics followed eventually leading to the inclusion of Norse gods like Loki, Thor, and Odin.
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First appearance of Loki in the 1949 Venus comics. Image: Wikicommons
When was Marvel Comics’ Loki introduced?
While Loki first appeared in the 1949 comic book Venus styled after (you guessed it) the devil, the modern-age Loki didn’t hit the comic book scene until co-writers and brothers Stan Lee and Larry Lieber adapted him in 1962’s Journey into Mystery #85. It’s in that issue where Loki “becomes Thor’s enemy/ally/brother/adopted brother/etc,” said Bishop. The mischievous personality of the Norse god remains largely the same in the Loki of the comic books and films and even retains the ability to swap genders at times.
In the comics, Loki is raised as Thor’s brother in Asgard—somewhere the Marvel stories diverge from the Norse mythology. It’s Loki and Odin who are sworn brothers in the Norse myths, not Loki and Thor. As Brown explains, “Loki and Odin are blood brothers, which means they are even closer than real brothers.” In the Viking world, two people who swore a blood oath to one another formed a bond that went beyond kin, and so went the Norse Loki and Odin’s relationship. As Bishop points out, the Loki/Thor dynamic of the comics and movies is a “classic, formulaic archetype.” Thor is the “big, hunky, handsome (but slightly dumb) hero” and Loki is “his slight, quirky but super-smart frenemy. Loki is the dark, misunderstood, vulnerable shadow that audiences can relate to, reach out to, care for. Thor is that dumb jock who everyone looked up to at school, but Loki was that cool, quiet kid who went on to found a tech-empire.”
Why is Loki called a Trickster?
What does remain consistent with Loki is that he always plays the trickster. He is the manifestation of psychologist Carl Jung’s archetype: The trickster disrupts the individual and/or society causing either growth or destruction. Social scientist Helena Bassil-Morozow points out that when it comes to Loki, “despite the fact that the narrative details between the medieval Loki stories and their contemporary versions vary, the main idea remains the same—the trickster mercilessly attacks those in power and nearly causes the end of the world.” Both in the Norse myths and in Marvel, the world needs saving from Loki. He acts as the catalyst for a whole lot of upheaval—upheaval that in the Norse myths causes Ragnarök.
Loki “functions as a locus of salvation (literally, a prodigal son).” Loki just might be a savior. He’s someone audiences can look at and think “if Loki can be redeemed, so too might I.”
Perhaps that’s where the two narratives differ the most. In the Norse tales, the end of the world at Ragnarök is inevitable. Odin and Thor will die. Everything will change. Vikings lived with the knowledge that their world would end. In the MCU, we don’t know how the story ends, plus Ragnarök took place already and yet the Asgardians live on. There’s still hope that Loki will prove to be good and that the other superheroes will save the world from whatever mayhem he’s caused, or so we can hope in the upcoming Disney+ series. As Bishop puts it, Loki “functions as a locus of salvation (literally, a prodigal son).” Loki just might be a savior. He’s someone audiences can look at and think “if Loki can be redeemed, so too might I,” explains Bishop.
While the Vikings’ Loki caused the end of the world, today’s Loki might just save it. Or maybe not. And, perhaps that’s the fun of the trickster—you never quite know what they’ll get up to.
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vidalinav · 3 years
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Burning Questions I Still Have:
You know SJM really hasn’t given us too much substance in these book talks so I’m just going to put down these questions as my own way of expanding the topic of the book beyond Eris, Azriel, and the copious amount of sex they’re going to have (Nesta and Cassian) though all of that is very exciting. 
1. How much does Mor factor into this story? Are we going to see her at all or would she be more focused in on an Azriel story if we get one? 
2. Does Elain have any say in sending Nesta away? Will she have some involvement in Nesta’s healing? Will we see her in Illyria, visiting her sister perhaps, or will it be short instances? 
3. Does Nesta make new friends? Assumedly she does, but right now it’s looking very established character centric, but you know with these lack of spoilers. (rolls eyes)
4. Will the witch concept brought up in ACOWAR come up in ACOSF? Is Nesta technically a witch? Because her power extends beyond her natural reserve “technically.” Will we see other witches? Witches vs Illyrians... Maybe?
5. What is the main conflict in Illyria? And how will it be resolved? So far we know it has something to do with rebellion, but how do you fix that realistically? 
6. How will the women in Illyria gain some autonomy, because lets be honest, everyone learning to fight is and is not going to fix everything? 
7. Where is Bryaxis? 
8. Eris has a deal with Rhysand to help him kill his father. How would that work? Does it involve Nesta, does this then involve her more in the Inner Circle’s antics in which she’ll gain a job in some way? Whether she wants to or not. 
9. How does Nesta suffer? We know emotionally, yes. Power, yes. But how does that come about when there’s so much potential conflict in this book. 
10. What is the main conflict of this story? There seems to be many, that I’m sure will be extended to the other books that come out, but to what to extent does this book extend to the others. Will we see all of the same characters in the books after this one? 
11. Eris’s mom and Helion; Helion and Lucien. Enough said. 
12. Nesta dealing with her father’s death. 
13. Cassian’s mom, who is supposedly dead. (Jury is still out on that one; no dead body, no dead)
14. What’s that shadowy evil substance that Mor discovers by her estate?
15. Will Mor get a story? Especially since if she does then she’d be the first LGBTQ character from the SJM universe to have their own book... I think. Don’t quote me on that. But she’s got a lot to deal with too and I think she deserves a book. She’s a very interesting character. She reminds me of a mixture between Aelin and Bryce and the more secretive aspects of Nesta. 
16. Will Elain ever get a mate or significant other? Honestly, I’m on the fence with this. Mostly because one, Elain is purely side-character to me. She’s interesting, but not enough right now to warrant a whole book. I also just think that right now she’s kind of useless, and I don’t mean that to be mean, I just mean that she doesn’t have a purpose yet and most of her personality right now is purely fodder. It’s her main personality I say. Maybe not the honest to god deep one, but she’s got at least the surface level personality with hints of iceberg feelings. 
Interestingly enough it makes more sense I think to have the next book centered on Lucien and Azriel if they’re going to settle that conflict. Even though I hate love triangles in any sense, but none of them love each other right now anyways... And I think that it would be hard to figure out these three relationships when they’re already linked together in ACOWAR and ACOFAS. 
17. Will we ever know why Amren and Nesta got into a fight? Will their relationship be fixed? Also where she at in this whole conflict of interest that is this book and Nesta being sent away? Will we see her often? 
18. Will Rhysand have a good amount of time in this book? What is his involvement with Nesta--his sister-in-law lol? Will their relationship reach some level of understanding? Will they hate each other for ever? Will they have some semblance of mutual respect and a common denominator that is the love for Feyre and their protectiveness for their family? 
19. What are Cassian’s conflicts? To be quite honest, I feel this book is very Nesta centric, and I do hope that Cassian is not just thrown in there for romance and that’s it. BUT we know the Illyrian conflict, the Mor/Azriel conflict, the issue with being born a bastard, not belonging with his people. The Nesta conflict, the war probably. But like besides Nesta, all of these conflicts have existed for as long as he’s lived. So is that really a conflict or an issue to be dealt with... A lot of this will be resolved through the “Powers of Love” lol and whatever else they can do in Illyria, but then what else? Internally, I don’t feel he has too much to deal with because well... a lot of his problems center around other people. 
20. What will Feyre being doing? Let me be honest, I don’t like the thought of Feyre being pregnant. I understand her body her choice, but this girl literally went from let’s spend time with each other to let’s have a baby, because maybe it won’t happen in a few hundred years. But let’s be honest, if I was her I would not be thinking that it would happen in a few hundred years. Things happen in the most inconvenient times, and right now with all this, it’s very inconvenient. I also think I really don’t like it because right now she is really playing into that role of a wife and not as everything we know her as. I mean she’s allowed to relax, to be loved and what not, but I don’t know. Lame, I think, that she became high lady in name, but probably not in any sort of empowerment way, and I think that’s sad because she could do an awful lot of good, and should do it, because right now her court has soooooo many issues, even issues that Rhys kind of just puts in the back burner and hopes for the best. She is the equal to Rhys, but so far she’s not seeming so equal and she also seems to have lost some purpose. So I’m also wondering if this want of a child and planning for it is Feyre’s way of being useful again... because she spent so much of her life taking care of other people. Which again..... ehhhhhh. 
21. What the f*** are Nesta’s powers? What do they do? I hope it does not end in some vague inclination like Mor’s truth power whatever. But like, she should be all powerful, death god status. I want to see Nesta as the goddess she is. 
22. Koschei??? The stealer of the hero’s wife or whatever as he’s referenced in Russian lore... I think? Is he going to be more involved in Vassa, or Elain even (because Elain right now has always been the damsel) or Nesta, because of the queens and “their powerful ally.” Wouldn’t he be the best teacher for Nesta’s power really, when he’s a powerful sorcerer in the book/death god that has worshippers and what not and collects women.   
>>> My theory is that if Elain and Lucien are the next pov’s then maybe Nesta will be kidnapped by Koschei at the end, and Elain gets to really show what she’ll do for her family, and what she’s made of. But it also keeps the story going without cutting it off completely, and we keep the bigger conflict which is that there’s a whole world of problems and rulers and that Nesta’s story can’t really end at this book, because again she’s suppose to be all-powerful, cauldron incarnate, the wind has heard of her, spreading the news around, and that she does need to learn her powers and I doubt anyone can really teach her, but she for sure probably can’t teach her self. 
23. Will the love triangle situation not be between Elain, Lucien, and Azriel, but Vassa, Elain, and Lucien, or maybe a love square like A Midsummer Night’s Dream? That would be kinda cool. I just don’t really know if Azriel will be a love interest for Elain, even if he has that fondness for her. Azriel has a lot of problems, but he’s also like... I don’t know. Off topic. 
24. The Queens--what the hell? What about that one who turned old and is now immortal? They were chilling in Vassa’s kingdom. Where are they so Nesta can beat their asses? Also, these human kingdoms--what? What are they doing now that their queens are just in hiding and that allied with Hybern to be fae? Do they know? 
25. Magical humans--fae blood sometimes trickle into human lines from that one fae whoever she is. Doubt she’s the only one. Probably will have magical humans, realistically. 
26. Vassa--all of Vassa. Maybe Vassa and Mor.... You never know. I doubt they’ll get that curse reversed and she’ll be completely human, so maybe she’ll a be a shifter of a sort. If I can remember she’s like the only successful experiment. So maybe she got some fae blood and she can live for a long time and can be with Mor. I certainly hope Mor does not give up her immortality for her love interest, which I’m assuming you can do like in TOG. 
27. The fae kingdoms, that conflict needs be somewhat resolved. Doubtful. There’s three main ones I think. No one’s been signing treaties. How? That is all. 
28. Azriel powers, shadows, how did that happen? Does it elude to something bigger. 
29. Cassian’s background. Who the hell is he? Will we know papa? Mama? Past? He’s the most powerful Illyrian commander, he can’t be normal. The laws of fiction dictate otherwise. 
30. Last names? Middle names? Titles. Give me everything Sara. 
31. Eris. After daddy is dead, what next? Is his conflict so small and easily taken care of. He is very interesting to me. 
32. Did they actually take care of the cauldron? Miriam and Draken, will we see them again and their ideal world? 
33. Will Nesta travel? Because she should. She deserves to, it was her plan in ACOTAR, but then she stayed, and now she’s a shell. Please have Nesta see the world. With Cassian or without. Don’t care. Maybe both. 
34. How is a treaty going to be established, when humans hate fae, fae enslave humans, and the fact that there is so much more than fae that exist as we know????? Hmmm???
35. Oh Tamlin! Where he at? What he been doing? How will he help this conflict? Assuming he’s probably going to factor more in Lucien’s story, I’m almost positive he’s the next POV. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise to my fanfic writer/ obsessive reader brain.  
36. The objective of different worlds. I know SJM probably won’t get into it too much and it would probably be very complicated, but other worlds. Are people still coming in? Do some want to leave? Is it easy to travel between them--provided you know how? *whispers* can Nesta do this?
37..... I don’t know. I will add more if I can think of any, because I probably can. Honestly this was like therapy and made me feel so much better than any of SJM’s lives about the future of this series.
38. ADD YOUR OWN; unless I wrote almost everything. But doubtful!
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goddessofmischief · 3 years
Text
Blue Monday, Chapter 12 - Loki Laufeyson x Reader
Read chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 8, 9, 10 & 11!
Author’s Note: It’s been a long time coming, but we’re in the endgame now! There will be only a few chapters left after this one.
...
“What do we do?”
It was a simple enough question, you knew. You had just discovered that Mobius - your boss, your trusted mentor - was plotting against you.
Either that, or Loki was.
Though somehow, it seemed infinitely preferable to you that it was Mobius. If Loki truly had betrayed you... well, you just couldn’t take it.
“We’ll go, of course,” said Loki. “Mobius has us on a leash - as long as he lives, we are bound to him. We both signed our souls over, Y/N, the very moment we signed that contract. The only thing left to do is confront him.”
“Travel by Tesseract?”
“No. We’ll take the Bifrost. If Mobius is plotting against us, it would be unwise to arrive via his method of transportation. We have to catch him off-guard.”
You nodded, mind racing.
“Alright, alright... we’ve just got to get to the Bifrost, then-”
“Easier said than done. The Bifrost is guarded by a soldier called Heimdall. He’ll know that I’m a time-traveler immediately. There’s no possibility he’ll let us through.”
“What if we could distract him?”
“I can’t imagine a distraction large enough that it could distract a man who can survey the entirety of the universe in a single glance.”
You thought, carefully.
“What if there were two Amoras?”
...
“This is an awful plan,” Loki muttered, striding beside you.
“It’s a wonderful plan. Heimdall will be distracted by the impossibility of the situation, and he’ll have to come look -- then we can sneak away.”
Loki nodded.
“It makes sense on paper, doesn't it? But these things never seem to work as well in practice.”
“Yes. True.”
“And besides... Amora was a fearsome warrior, love. She could kill you. How do you expect to fight her?”
You shrugged.
“I’ve got her sword, haven’t I? Without that... I imagine we’ll be equals.”
...
You were dead wrong.
You’d only been looking at Amora - who, you had to admit, did look quite a bit like you - for all of six minutes, and she was the most terrifyingly intense person you’d ever witnessed.
“And you’re sure you’re ready for this, darling?” Loki asked again.
“Yes,” you said, quietly. “I was born ready.”
With a final squeeze of his hand, you strode up to the warrior.
“Amora!” you shouted. “Of Asgard!”
You had gotten her attention, you knew - and she stared through you, with piercing eyes.
“You are myself, I see.”
“I am more yourself than you are,” you taunted, and Loki arched an eyebrow. You could almost hear his thoughts:
What are you doing?
Enough small talk!
Make her mad!
You cleared your throat.
“I am yourself, Amora. And I have come to take what is mine. I’ve already got your sword-” you swung Kursebreaker for extra effect. “How about your betrothed?”
Amora growled, and with identical grimaces, the two of you faced off against each other.
“I will destroy you,” she promised.
You smiled.
“You may try.”
She lunged in your direction, and to your surprise, the sword seemed to do all the work for you. You blocked her kicks and her punches, and even managed to knock her to the ground.
That is, until, someone tossed her a staff.
She beat you to the ground, and you began to collapse under her weight. Somewhere in the crowd, you could hear Loki’s whispers, as if he was speaking against the back of your neck - spells, enchantments.
Loki had chosen you over Amora. Loki was fighting for you.
That had to mean something.
“Well,” said a larger guard, who you guessed was Heimdall, “What’s this?”
“This imposter has attempted to vanquish me,” said Amora, standing up. “I was about to finish her off.”
Suddenly, like magic, fifteen of you appeared in the arena. Loki gestured at you, and you ran to him, the other Amoras distracting the crowd.
“That was close,” you panted, and you both ran. “I thought she was about to kill me.”
“I thought she would, too!”
You glared at him, and, suddenly, you stopped in front of a large, rainbow bridge -- the Bifrost, you guessed.
“Good, the sword’s here -- come on, you first.”
“What, so I can die first?” you shouted. “Nice try, Loki - not bloody likely!”
He groaned.
“Trust me?”
“No, of course not! The worst possible thing I could do is trust you!”
Thirty soldiers began to descend upon you, and you glanced at Loki.
“Fine, yes! I trust you!”
Without warning, Loki swept you into a kiss.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” he promised, and you vanished into the Bifrost.
...
The T.V.A. felt a little different, now. Cursed, or haunted, or something.
It felt wrong. Like you’d outgrown the place.
And you had, in a way. You didn’t need to be their agent, ever again. You didn’t belong to anyone. All you needed was Loki, and you had him.
“He must be around here somewhere,” Loki muttered, ducking around a hallway. “Somewhere...”
“Hey, kids.”
“Mobius,” you snapped, glaring at the man who had just appeared before you. “You son of a bitch.”
“Easy, darling,” Loki whispered, dangerously serene, tangling his fingers in yours. “It’ll be alright-”
“No, it won’t be!” you exclaimed, wrenching your hand away. “Don’t you understand? He’s about to kill us!”
“And do you really think I’ll let him?”
“Loki, I don’t think you’ve got a whole lot of say in it.”
“She’s right,” said Mobius, nodding towards both of you. “See... that’s kinda been my plan all along.”
“Explain yourself, small man,” Loki ordered.
“Well, the thing is - this universe is done. Earth is gonna destroy itself, just wait and see. Asgard is dead. The rest of our universe will soon follow. So I’m going to take that tesseract... and I’m going to the next one. It’s a big multiverse. I’ll travel a little, y’know... decide where I want to end up. I’m really kinda glad you guys came to confront me, by the way - after all... it is why I brought you here.”
“You tried to frame me?”
Loki looks completely unsurprised, of course, as utterly tranquil as a resting lake, but you saw the stirring underneath.
Mobius had chosen him because he thought he would be a monster, and make a monstrous choice. He had hoped that Loki would destroy the universe for him.
And Loki had disappointed him.
But he had saved you. That had to count for something.
Right?
“Tried? I did frame you,” said Mobius. “In the eyes of the universe... when I destroy this world, you will be the only possible culprit.” “Why’d you bother?” you ask. “You could’ve just... destroyed this timeline yourself, and taken the credit. You were my mentor. I know you’re powerful enough to do it.”
Mobius wagged his finger at you.
“The Watchers,” he said. “They see everything, you know. Broad strokes and actions. If I had done it, they would’ve made my travel... inconvenient.
And, besides. I had the book, I knew how the story would end. I knew what he thought you were, all along. And I knew that if I put the one thing that Loki needed and just could not have so close to him, it’d be bound to end in bloodshed. It’s simply the most likely outcome. Why have all that blood on my hands, when it could so easily be on the God of Mischief’s?”
Loki looked lost, and far less certain than before. You wanted to comfort him, but... you were quite unsure, yourself. Both of you would soon be dead. There was precious little that either he or you could do about it.
“It’ll be alright,” Loki repeated, sounding a little uneasier than he had been. You looked up at him, concentrating, carefully, on memorizing every flawless line of his face.
You’d never told him you loved him.
Well... it just didn’t matter. You’d be dead in moments.
It just didn’t matter.
But he had to know something else. You had to destroy one last bit of hope for him.
“Loki,” you whispered, quietly, reaching for his hand, “Loki, I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what, darling? Handle this fool?”
“No. I can’t... I know part of you thinks I can save us, but I can’t. I’m not a goddess. I’m not. I’m just me. And that isn’t enough.” “I know.”
“What?”
He did a half-hearted little shrug.
“I suppose... I’ve known for a long time. If you ever were who I thought you were... you aren’t, anymore. I can’t explain it. But I did know.
Oh, what’d you expect me to do, love? Admit that I had been sticking around, all this time, simply for you?”
Your breath caught in your throat.
“But... no matter,” Loki said, briskly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and continuing to glare at Mobius. “I imagine you know why she looks like Amora? That must all be part of your plan, yes?”
Mobius chuckled.
“Certainly, friend. See... it’s all very funny... she is Amora.”
...
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sweetsmalldog · 3 years
Text
The Nether Gods
The Subterranean Gods
Taiga Trio
Quackity- Warped Forest
A cunning god, the Warped Forest is known as the “face” of the nether. With wings that glow like shroomlights and a hat of warped vines. An enderpearl amulet around his neck. Vein like patterns, reminiscent of that on Warped Wood detailed on his skin and a large scar going over one eye cuts an intimidating figure when he wants to be.
Quackity had emerged at the same time as the original Crimson Forest. While he learned about his magic he spent lots of time with the nether spirit Badboyhalo who in many respects was his first friend. Then the Nether war started. The original Crimson Forest started corrupting nether spirits, including Bad. The war was long, drawn out, and bloody but in the end they managed to destroy the God. Though Quackity will never forget Bad’s screams of pain as he became the new Crimson God.
Badboyhalo- Crimson Forest
Most are scared of the Crimson Forest when they first meet him. The same pulsating glow of Crimson Bark spreading across his wings. His face is made of void with pure white eyes and mouth peaking out of his hooded robes and thick scarf. His horns are wrapped with crimson vines. Those with keen eyes may spot the gold amulet with a center of blue ice that doesn’t seem to melt no matter how hot it gets.
Bad is the most sociable of the Nether Gods. Though he was not always a Nether god. Bad used to simply be a spirit helping the gods run the nether smoothly. During the first and only Nether War Bad was captured by the original Crimson God and corrupted. After their defeat at the hands of The Warped Forest (Quackity) and the Soul Sand Valley (Callahan) the mutated magic rose the the dying Bad as its new god. Though even as a spirit he had a close relationship with the God of the Ice Spikes, Skeppy.
Callahan- Soul Sand Valley
One of the oldest gods in existence the god of Soul Sand Valley is akin to something out of a nightmare. A face to vague to be described, almost as if it’s changing every second, on top of an equally hard to remember mask. You would not hear his voice even if he were to speak, as the souls of the damned that they embody scream. Every time he moves they scream louder. Small pockets of red fungi or a red plant seem to grow on his skin. His eyes are reminiscent of glow stone. He carries a staff of living twisting ever moving red vines.
Callahan is an old god, though not as old as The Deep Dark. He has watched the Overworld gods squabble before and doesn’t care if it happens again. He only cares if his fellow Nether gods get dragged into it. He simply wants peace in the nether.
Sapnap- Nether Wastes
The god of the Nether Wastes has been described as a brute in the past. With zombification continually eating at his flesh, the curling magma like horns, hair that turns red when he runs a top lava, and a myriad of scars from all of his previous fights he certainly looks the part. Armor built of Netherite and adorned in raw reddish gold with an axe to match and a shield made of Crimson Wood he’s always prepared.
Sapnap’s always ready for a fight, partially because he became a god not long after the nether war. As he learned about his godhood he watched the fortresses and bastions that had been raised for war be torn down or simply abandoned. He could see how much the conflict had effected his mentor, Bad, even as he refused to talk about it. He saw how war effected the running of the nether in how everyone was failing to adjust and he thought if he was strong enough no one else would get hurt again because next time he’d be their time defend the nether.
Jack Manifold- Basalt Delta
The god of the Basalt Delta is known for his blaze like attributes. The sparks of fire that come off him, the fiery eyes, the floating a bit off the ground, and the flickering gold toned skin.
Jack doesn’t really know much about the nether war. No one ever wants to talk about it, not that Callahan could but still. Not that it matters, Jack gets along much better with the overworld gods anyways. The Mountain god is a funny guy and the Bamboo Forest goddess genuinely seems to get him. Things are good, they’re really good.
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percabeth4life · 4 years
Text
Great Prophecy Breakdown
A Half-Blood of the eldest Gods
Shall reach sixteen against the odds
And see the world in endless sleep
A hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap
A single choice shall end his days
Olympus to preserve or raze
The Great Prophecy! The big deal of the first five books and what led to the intense focus on the Big Three. The prophecy that foretold the war and it’s end. It has a lot of holes in it.
Starting from the top!
A Half-Blood of the eldest Gods
Half-Blood was defined for us fairly easily, it’s always used to refer to half-human half-immortal. Great, that clears up one possible loop-hole. Thank you Rick for considering that.
A Half-Blood, not the first, A. This means that it did not matter who turned sixteen first, any of them that fit the rest of the terms could’ve been it.
Thalia could’ve reached sixteen and if the prophecy wasn’t for her it simply wasn’t for her. Percy could’ve reached sixteen but as long as he didn’t fulfill the prophecy, it wasn’t about him (which only Hades seemed to consider. He didn’t kill Percy, but still expected Nico to fulfill the terms of the prophecy).
What about Eldest?
What does eldest refer to? Does it mean the actual oldest ones? Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, and then Zeus is the order. So Zeus is actually the youngest of the Big Six. But is it referring to the group of the six as a whole as the oldest? Well then you need to include Demeter in the whole “oldest Gods” oath. Ah, but on that note, what about Aphrodite? She was born before even Hestia (sorta, sorta not but that's a different situation)!
“Oh,” you say. “But it says Gods, clearly that means it can’t be a girl immortal.” Well, I say. That’s a great point. Except... when you refer to the deities as a whole you say the Gods. Not the Gods and Goddess’. So... define Gods for me. Is it just the just the guy immortals? So cut out Demeter and Aphrodite?
“But they had kids that didn’t fulfill the prophecy!” you say. Another excellent point, except... let me direct you to my opening statement. A Half-Blood. Not the first.
Now then! Define God further. Do you mean third generation Gods? So just Zeus and His siblings and the like? Do you mean the first generation Gods, the Primordials that were the beginning? Do you mean the second generation? Because the Titans were also Gods you know. They were Titan Gods. So like, what do you count as the eldest? Because if we go back actual eldest Gods, that would be the primordials.
Therefore, the first line alone, has a dozen different interpretations! It all depends on your definitions.
It could be the first, or the thirtieth child, it could be a Half-God of the modern view, Half-Titan, Half-Primordial, it could be the Big Three or out of all of the Big Six.
Now, the second line.
Shall reach sixteen against the odds
This is where it gets fun!
“Oh but that’s a really straightforward line, why is that fun?” You ask. I’m so glad you did!
Percy was not sixteen on his sixteenth birthday.
That’s right! Percy was not sixteen.
By the end of The Lightning Thief he was five (5) days younger than sixteen. Why? Because of the Lotus Hotel and Casino.
They entered the Hotel and spent an hour or two there, five days passed in that time. They are at minimum five days younger. That means the prophecy did not come true on his sixteenth birthday.
And then, book two, about two weeks passed while they were in the sea of monsters, though they only lived through a few days. And again in the Labyrinth, time passed differently and a week went by in one day.
That means that Percy is not sixteen when the prophecy comes to pass, he’s still about a month away by my estimate.
So, reaching sixteen, didn’t happen! How fun is that?
Someone define odds for me as well because that’s a vague term to use.
I’ll move on now.
And see the world in endless sleep
This one is just a plain lie.
For one, it wasn’t the world.
Now, you can argue his city was his world, that was his home and his world and the immediate view for him of what the world is. So I can give you that much.
But endless? That sleep was clearly not endless. It was magic, but it wasn’t endless at all.
And on a continuing note, the wording implies that he turns sixteen, then sees the world in endless sleep.
That’s not what happens at all.
He sees the city asleep before he turns sixteen, and depending on what time he was born (I’ll pretend for this point that he does turn sixteen on that day) the spell might’ve been lifted before the actual time that he would turn sixteen.
So like, this whole area just isn’t even accurate. The only thing it got right was there was sleep.
A hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap 
‘hero’, okay, you do you. I won’t argue over Luke’s status as a hero because that’s a whole nother analysis he isn’t one to me so I side-eye that line but you get the picture.
Cursed blade... well... I mean... we could call her knife cursed. It’s not... really? Breaking a promise over a blade doesn’t equal a curse, it’s just sad.
Like, I’m really sorry that your blade holds the weight of a broken promise, but you don’t see Percy being called The Cursed Child thank goodness because he’s the evidence of a broken promise.
Regardless, the lines here are... nebulous. But it’s certainly not the worst line, except... it confirms the soul will be reaped, which could guarantee they win against Luke.
Now, it could mean there are two choices but one of them is getting their soul reaped by a cursed blade.
Luke- reaped by Annabeth’s apparent cursed knife.
Percy- reaped by Kronos’ scythe if Luke hadn’t had his soul reaped.
If you consider it from that view then yeah the line works, they win, Luke’s soul reaped, they lose, Percy’s.
Moving on though.
A single choice shall end his days
I could get nitpicky and point out it was technically a set of choices, a choice to hand over the knife, a choice to stab himself, a choice to trust Annabeth, to trust Luke, but I’ll be nice and not get into it and just say that this line is pretty solid overall.
Olympus to preserve or raze
This one the main issue is just grammar.
Preserve: maintain (something) in its original or existing state.
Raze: completely destroy 
Olympus would be doing the destroying based on the way it’s phrased. Neither of these are being applied to Olympus in this description.
Olympus to (maintain something) or (completely destroy).
Doesn’t quite fit the idea of Olympus being preserved or razed. Grammar, ruins all the good prophecies.
Anyways, That’s my analysis! Thanks for sticking around long enough to read the whole thing.
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parasite-core · 3 years
Text
@faunscozyspace so here’s the looong answer
So Draven was a regular poor farm kid in Mendev, the country unfortunate enough to be next to a demonic rip in reality called the Worldwound. Because of it the land is mostly fallow so farming is not lucrative. His parents supplemented it by fishing in the Lake of Mists and Veils, but the lake is treacherous and they had to be cautious with their expeditions. His father also did odd jobs around town, helping to fix roofs and tools or tend to cattle, and was all around generally well liked, so they got by because of their community.
Then one day demons broke through the Wardstone barrier protecting the rest of the world from the Worldwound. This demon raiding party came across Draven’s family farm, and they tortured and slaughtered everyone inside. They were not fast about it, and at one point Draven lost consciousness from the pain and trauma of what was happening around him. He was saved by some local retired crusaders who’d heard the commotion and grabbed their old arms and armor to slay and chase off the abyssal scourge. Unfortunately, Draven was the only survivor. He was in a coma for close to a month while his wounds healed—all but a terrible mark on his left arm, the Mark of Deskari, the demon lord of Locusts and Pestilence, which never closed and scarred, but festered and bled. The cleric’s finally had him bandage it and told him to keep it hidden, as others would jump to the wrong conclusions about such a thing.
Unfortunately rumors had already begun to spread, and by the time he was taken into the Light-Oath Orphanage, owned by one of the retired crusaders, former captain Scarlet Jules, the children had heard of him. The boy who had survived what no one should have. The boy whose body had become strangely hardy since the ordeal, despite having been a somewhat scrawny kid in his youth. The boy who might have made a deal with a demon. The boy who might have demonic blood inside of him. The boy marked by evil. The boy who might not be a boy as all, but a demon in disguise. All kinds of rumors followed him, and it left him isolated from his peers.
Until Leto Jules held out a hand of friendship.
Leto was a brilliant golden tiefling, abandoned to the orphanage with no record of who his mother and father were. He was roughly the same age as Draven, maybe a little younger. He understood being shunned for rumors and connections to demons you had no control over. So he tried to invite Draven to play with him. At first Draven was hesitant. He had never met a tiefling before, and his appearance with his sharp fangs and twisted horns brought to mind the monsters that had killed his family and tortured him. He refused. But Leto did not relent. He kept trying to befriend Draven, taking every opportunity he could to try to include him. He wouldn’t force the subject when Draven said no, but he would always come back when another opportunity arose. Eventually Draven warmed up to his presence, and then grew fond of it. After a year together the two of them became inseparable. Draven in time grew to think of Leto as a surrogate brother. Leto in turn grew very protective of Draven, despite Draven seeing himself as the one who needed to protect those around him.
And as those two grew close, Leto’s natural charm began drawing others to them as well. Gabrielle, a kindhearted aasimar cleric, whose instructors feared she was too soft for the work of a field medic. Sophia, an orphaned Kellid girl who lived up to her people’s reputation for battle. She was fierce and vicious, but she had a clear soft spot for Gabrielle, who also worried over her in combat and tended to favor healing her—sometimes to the detriment of others. Everyone in the group knew Sophia had a crush on Gabbie and vice-versa—it was only a matter of time until those two boneheads came out and admitted it. Issac, the youngest of the group and the only one besides Draven who didn’t came to the orphanage as an infant. Issac lost his parents in an accident he didn’t like talking about when he was 13. He was quiet, shy, extremely unsure of himself despite his clear skill with magic, and always a bit droopy-eyed, like she was about to fall asleep. He was also the only religious skeptic in the group, despite being a celestial blooded sorcerer. And last but certainly not least was Lorette, a bard who was seeking for his friends to make big names for themselves so he could be the one to write the ballads and tales and earn a name for himself in that manner. He was a short blond man whose large personality made up for his stature. He was always the most boisterous in the room, always the center of attention, and generally pretty well liked by the sorts who enjoy his kind of big personality.
So these six made an adventuring party, and when Draven was 20 they headed out to the Crusader city of Kenabres to enlist.
Things…didn’t go well. About an hour outside of the city, a demon broke through the Wardstone again. Draven felt the Mark of Deskari on his arm begin to burn and bleed severely, and he immediately knew something was wrong. There was no time to warn his friends before all hell broke loose. They had trained together, they knew how to fight…in theory. But they had never been in a real battle. And they didn’t have cold iron or good aligned weapons, so even when they did hit the target it did nothing. The demon ripped them apart. Gabrielle—innocent and sweet, aimed at for being an aasimar, never saw it coming. Sophia—flying into a hopeless rage over the love she’d never confessed to’s corpse, before falling beside her. Issac, terrified, trying to draw on his celestial power in one breath and cursing the gods that had turned his life into this mockery in the next. He fell silent with barely a whimper. Lorette tried to flee, all grandeur lost. He didn’t get far.
Draven tried to defend Leto with his shield. He felt claws rake across his face, there was a terrible pain and then a terrible cold, and then the next thing he remembers is waking up in a temple’s healing center in Kenabres. Somehow Leto had gotten them to safety, the lucky bastard. But not before Draven had lost his left eye.
He had to spend the next year relearning the sword and shield with only one eye, regaining his hand eye coordination and relearning to tell distances, and in that time he ended up relegated to the lowest most looked down upon branch of the crusades: The Raven Corps. And there he remained.
Until the fateful day the Wardstone was destroyed, he and six others were tossed into the caverns below Kenabres, and by the end of it his recent friend and mentee from the Raven Corps, Auriel Answerer, died in battle against a Baphomet Cultist who had been leading a conspiracy to infiltration the Church of Iomedae, after dealing her a crippling blow. Auriel we discovered after his death had been meant to be Iomedae’s Chosen One, the Paladin to wield the intelligent holy sword Radiance. However since Auriel’s spirit vouched for Draven, both the honor and the burden or wielding Radiance fell to Draven. Radiation was not pleased—they did not come off as terribly fond of their replacement wielder who wasn’t even a true Paladin.
Not longe after we met an eldritch archer magus in the sewers looking after some orphans. So our party became Luna the innocent accused serial killer The Butcher of Balestreet, Melody the Inquisitor of Shelyn who followed a holy songbird to find us, and Hiskaria a convicted murderer who was supposed to be in the Raven’s Corps as community service under orders of her land’s kind Kevoth-Kul after all forms of execution failed. So Draven has Hiskaria as his responsibility now whether he likes it or not (she grows on him)
Since then long story’s short: we met The person Draven hero worships, Commander Irabeth Tirabade, got a mission from her to destroy the final shard of the Wardstone before the cultists could turn it into a weapon of mass destruction. So we did. And Draven got closer to the party after spending a long time holding them at arm’s length because they risked everything to keep Leto safe after Draven saw a scry that he was in danger and that if they retreated now he might not make it back safely. Hiskaria avoided our entire boss fight by tapping the Wardstone shard with a rod of cancellation while we had her distracted and it blew up and tore the enemies apart. We had some visions of what was meant to happen—all bad—but we broke fate and made a better reality. Then we got the power of the Wardstone and became mythic.
After that we’ve met Iomedae the Inheritor, Draven’s goddess, herself and got three boons from her for helping to cleanse her temple of the Deskari cultists and their desecration. Then we met the Queen of a Mendev who was somehow equally cool. She knighted all of us and promoted Draven whether he likes it or not. So after naming his new Legion he is now Sir Draven Imani, the One-Eye’d Knight, Commander of the Adamant Shield Legion.
A Legion strong enough to stand unyielding before the forces of the Worldwound like an Adamantine Shield to protect the innocent of the world outside.
Since then we’ve led Draven’s army to liberate a number of fortresses. Had some insubordination that almost ended really badly when some of the men went to desert—and then they were snatched up by gargoyles. We fought through hordes of ghouls, gargoyles, a half-fiend gargoyle inquisitor, an incubus, and a nabasu to get to them. The nabasu killed Melody, but by a miracle there was a scroll of resurrection with the healing supplies kept under the podium behind the podium of what was once a church of Iomedae, Draven isn’t powerful enough to cast this magic consistently, so he had to take a gamble…and it worked. With Iomedae and Shelyn’s blessings the spell worked, and we had Melody back. For the first time ever Draven’s curse did not take hold.
The three crusaders we saved were ashamed after we’d literally put our lives in the line for them, and they returned to camp. Draven later spoke to their ringleader Arles. He explained he knew were Arles was coming from—mourning caused people to act irrationally. He just hoped it wouldn’t cause them more problems in the future. Arles gave Draven a book of tactics to look over to try to be a better commander in future battles, which from an inscription inside of the cover Draven discovered was originally from Arles’ love Jellel, who had died under Draven’s command in his first real battle leading an army. He committed Jellel’s name to memory, ashamed that he had been so new to command that he hadn’t known anything about them before they died because of his imperfect orders. From here out he became much more focused on his soldiers. He prioritizes what will be best for his men, he doesn’t want to betray the trust of people who are putting their lives on the line for him. Legit if it ever comes down to a choice between doing something that will protect his army or something that protects the party, I don’t know which side of the coin he’ll land on. But I’m heavily leaning protect his men. The others can take care of themselves. His army relies on him, he’s the one with mythic power leading them, if he were to abandon them he’d be choosing the deaths of hundreds or thousands of people and he couldn’t live with himself if he did that.
Fun fact: One of Draven’s mythic abilities is called Divine Source. It gives him two domains as if he were a god, and people who follow him can prepare spells from him as if he were a god. He has *no idea* he has this ability, beyond suddenly having a few new spell-like abilities he didn’t before, but he’s just chalking that up to ‘Wardstone weirdness’ same with him suddenly learning to speak celestial (and he’s going to freak when he suddenly learns Abyssal next level 😈) I look forward to the day someone in his army spontaneously starts getting protection domain spells from him and it’s like “that’s not Iomedaen. Draven we’ve seen you cast this on Melody before do you know what this is?” And Draven will nope out of existence because he didn’t want to be a commander he definitely doesn’t want to be a god or god adjacent, Melody can be the party’s demi-god thanks.
Anyways he led his army to march on the Citadel city of Drezen, which had been captured and held by demons for 100 years. No one had managed to get close to taking it back since, everyone who had tried died.
The party took it back in three days. One to clear out the exterior defenses. One to clear out the first floor and kill the army’s commanding officer and show off his severed head in the most dramatic way Draven could think of to make the enemy army retreat, and one to go into the basement and kill a Shadow Demon and save their friend who he was possessing.
And then the demon general Aponavicious almost cut Draven’s head off through a portal, if he hadn’t activated the magical Sword of Valor—the banner once wielder by Iomedae herself—at just the right time. It closed the portal and saved his life. But things weren’t over. She couldn’t teleport directly in, but she could teleport her army outside and march on Drezen. And that’s what she began to do. With an army of thousands upon thousands of demons.
Until a single figure in shining silver armor stepped out from behind Aponavicious. A golden tiefling. He spoke to her, then viciously wrapped her in spiked chains. Words were had, and then the army retreated.
Leto looked across the battlefield at Draven, held up his right hand, and Draven felt the mark on his left hand began to react. He heard Leto’s voice in his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt you.”
Then he teleported away, too.
So Draven was nearly catatonic for a bit after that revelation of his brother working with the enemy. He tried Sending Leto but only got a response that wishes come true when you least expect them, and to meet him at the Ivory Labyrinth. And that he would protect him.
So Draven is extremely confused. Then a few days later it turned out Melody is actually the demigod child of Desna and Shelyn, so there’s that on top of things. Then Draven had some more self revelations a few days later.
None of them good.
They’d been asked by Irabeth, who’d been promoted to Lord Captain of Drezen, to look into stopping some raiders who were attacking their supply lines. Easy right? Just people, no cults, no demons, just desperate people in the Worldwound making bad choices. We could deal with that.
Or so we thought, until the party got lost in a petrified forest in the way to the raiders fortress, and Draven’s mark started acting up, so consistently that they could use it as a compass pointing the way to their destination. So clearly there was more to this than met the eyes.
Luna discovered that the raiders were being held here and forced to continue their raids at threat of death by their leader Marhokev. Luna promised if he led them to their leader, she and her friends would take care of him so they could go free. He warned that if it came down to a fight, Marhokev would force us to fight the raiders. Luna assured him that we had a lot of resources in our side to keep them safe. The raider placed his faith in us, and after working out how to get the entire party past the alarms Luna had passed via Invisibility, we were led inside.
There Draven met a large raider man who immediately locked eyes with him and grinned, referring to Draven as kin. Seeing Draven’s confusion he explained they both shared Lady Jerribeth’s blood. And they had both made a wish. Draven was confused and trying not to give into his first instinct to just go on the offensive, instead shakily explaining that he didn’t know what the man was talking about. Marhokev laughed, realizing Draven didn’t remember what he had wished for. So he told Draven a story. About his own life. His family had lived faithfully in Mendev for generations. And all it had saddled him with was demonic taint in his blood. He’d lived with a violent temper his entire time. He’d found it impossible to make a name for himself, or to keep down any sort of respectable position.
Then one day Lady Jerribeth came to him, and offered him anything he could desire. So he wished for power. And now he had it. Power and people to lord it over. He was living the life of a king as a raider. So, when given the chance to have it all, he took it. And it appeared when Draven was given the same chance, he’d squandered it away on something he couldn’t even recall. A pity. But Mahokev still felt something for their kinship, so he was willing to open his arms to let Draven join his band.
Draven said absolutely not, and that the time for talking was over. That was his final answer. He saw now what sort of man Mahokev was, and hr wasn’t one Draven could do anything for.
The raider flew into a mindless rage and attacked Draven, but Draven reflected him off his shield. Draven managed to hit the raider, but his rage powers activated to begin healing the damage, leaving Draven’s average sword arm virtually useless as-is.
While he had his stand off, Hiskaria blasted the raider’s pet ice drake with a scorching ray and peppered it with arrows, quickly finishing the beast before it was a terrible threat.
And Melody began dancing, distracting the other raiders so that the party wouldn’t have to hurt them.
Hiskaria and Luna began helping Draven to damage the raider, their much more respectable damage output doing a number on him. He made a break for it, aiming for Melody to try to snap his minions out of their trances.
Draven was having none of that. He was aiming to stop him in his tracks—but he stopped him alright, with a blade right through the rib cage and into the heart. Marhokev fell.
It appeared the battle was over. Melody ended her performance with a flourish, the raiders were grateful that we hadn’t killed any of them and that now they could leave the Worldwound and return to the places they’d once been from, or make new homes elsewhere.
None of the party were paying Marhokev’s corpse any mind. Not until his marked arm had ripped itself from its socket, and clamped onto Draven’s throat. He failed his save and suffocated, being knocked unconscious immediately despite his frankly absurd number of hit points. Melody ran over and yanked the hand off Draven. Burnt flesh pulled away from where the hand met skin, and underneath a second Mark of Deskari was emblazoned across his neck.
Draven’s had a lot to think about since then. His feelings about having demon’s blood in his veins in general, as well as his feelings about it being Jerribeth’s blood specifically, the architect of Drezen’s fall, likely the cause of his family’s deaths, likely the Glabrezu who made Leto start acting strangely, and a demon with untold amounts of innocent blood on her hands. He’s wondering exactly what he wished for—he assumes as a terrified tortured child who just saw his family tortured and killed that he probably wished for it to end and to be safe, but he doesn’t know the exact wording, which with these things the exact wording is important. He’s going to wait to talk to Nurah to try to regain his lost memories for that. He’s also really worried about what sort of wish Leto made. And he’s worried that he’s compromised, that when he meets Jerribeth in person no matter how much he hates her she’ll be able to worm her way into his mind and make him do what she wants because of him being so bound to her. Plus the foreboding feeling about having a new mark of Deskari, and the fact he feel like more power began to awaken within him when he received it. The fear that his soul is bound for Deskari no matter how faithful he is to Iomedae, and had been since he was a child. There’s just…a lot.
He also just really wants to kill Jerribeth.
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huntresswarlock · 3 years
Note
I am so sorry
But also no I’m not
1 for all because I am an evil bastard
Then more specifically
4, 12, 18, 24, 25, 35, 40, 42, 44, 45, 56, 63, 69 for Lady, Harmony, Nomiki, Odonys, Ione and Somnia
6, 44 and 58 for Nik and Valerie
20, 40, 42, 56, 65 for Icarus as well
💞💞💞
under a read more because i cannot shut up about my characters and i won't apologize for that!
most of these will b organized by character instead of by question but since you asked for 1 for all of em i'll put them all underneath it
1. why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)?
Nik: they found a weird book in a thrift shop and accidentally figured out how to poke Ink-Treader to get certain automatic responses in the form of magic powers, which they swear are totally normal and not the result of a pact (conscious or not) at all.
Nomiki: her mother was a fighter who trained her well, and when she was a bit older she swore vengeance against that which destroyed her world, which she initially thought was the gods but then turned out to be The Hungry Hungry Caterpillar (Eldritch Edition)
Harmony: was always an outdoors-y sort of girl, so druid made sense when she was transported into The School, and then the Dictionfairy of the Summer Reading Court took a special interest in her and gave her some extra stuff on top of druidic powers!
Lady: built to be a… let’s call her a “personal companion,” whose main gimmick was that she is extremely intelligent about a great many things with a perfect memory; hence Archivist. as for the Artificer class itself, that came about primarily when she was working with an inventor/engineer named Rowan Keen, who enlisted her as his assistant in his projects. she learned a great deal about mechanical engineering and building from him, as well as receiving some upgrades like sewing/welding tools in her hands to assist her with this.
Somnia: she is very old (like, 650ish years old) and very in tune with nature already, and then the goddess of sleep saved her life with a drop of her blood, giving her the Stars circle powers
Odonys: they were formerly a Watcher Oath paladin, and took up that mantle because it's what their society set out for them. they made the choice to break away from it when offered freedom by the primal embodiment of chaos, though they have mixed feelings on this because it caused them to be exiled
Ione: she didn't have a choice 😔 nearly drowning unlocked some latent sorcerer powers
Valerie: stunt fighting training baybeeeeee
Icarus: also didn't have a choice, on account of nearly burning himself to death and then taking a deal from the god of fire to work for him in exchange for not dying
Lady
4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be?
Chaos Bolt is the meme answer, Dream (to reach out to Rowan) is the sad answer
12. have they ever been in love?
she's not supposed to have been. but. ;)
18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower?
a follower, for the time being! she has spent a long time taking orders and fulfilling requests, and though that part of her life is done now, she is still content to leave the leading to others.
24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most?
🔥🔥🔥 it's wild and free
25. what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear?
she doesn't really tell stories, but if requested, she would tell stories about things that happened to her
she likes to hear stories she hasn't heard before
35. which party member do they worry for?
Domino Domino Domino Domino Domino D
40. do they enjoy poetry?
yes! she's not really one for composing it, but it's nice to listen to
42. what are three words they would use to describe themself?
beautiful, intelligent, free
44. what do they need to learn?
WHEN WILL SHE LEARN!!!!! THAT HER ACTIONS!!!!!!!!!! HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
45. how do they hug people?
at 4'11", she's almost certainly going to be shorter than whoever she's hugging, so she tends to go for arms-under-the-shoulders and head-onto-chest. she gives really really good hugs, on account of all of her......... padding.
56. what animal do they most relate to?
caged bird that recently busted out :>
63. what fight has scared them the most?
before she got free will, we encountered some Crown-of-Thorns Starfish (In Space) that knocked her down to single-digit HP. though she wasn't physically able to feel fear at the time, the significant damage was deeply alarming.
69.how would they describe their party members?
Domino: "My dear friend, and a very kind and intelligent woman. I was very concerned for her when I was still under restrictions. Now I am no longer restrained in what I can think or do, but I find that I am still worried about her. She is always so melancholy when she thinks no one is looking..."
Rusty: "Something of an enigma. I only recently learned his real name: Rheneas Dolgoch. Apparently he used to be involved in various criminal activities before being framed for the disappearance of his boyfriend and then taking this portalhopping job for Dr. Horizon. I'd like to get to know him better, and have him teach me some things."
Clifton: "An honest man, with a good heart, and somewhat lacking the brains to think through his actions. Still, he tries, and he is responsible for getting Kinmati's attention with regards to my previous plight. I do wonder if adventuring across the multiverse is the best coping mechanism for the loss of his fiancée, but..."
Harmony
4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be?
the campaign stopped at level 12, but i think she would have jumped at the chance to use Animal Shapes!
12. have they ever been in love?
yes!!!! she loves her girlfriend, Mick, very very much
18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower?
she would describe herself as leading from the back, primarily encouraging others to be their best selves but not exactly telling them what to do
24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most?
🌎 (earth), because it's grounding and stable, like her
25. what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear?
harmy likes to hear and tell stories with happy endings!
35. which party member do they worry for?
she worried about both other party members equally, really, for different reasons. they were both working through more issues than her, so she felt the need to be the emotional glue holding them together and getting them to talk things out.
40. do they enjoy poetry?
not as much as prose, but she likes a good poem or two! especially free verse stuff
42. what are three words they would use to describe themself?
cheerful, outdoorsy, kind
44. what do they need to learn?
over the course of the campaign she needed to learn (and did learn) when to keep trying with diplomacy and when to fight back
45. how do they hug people?
really really tightly! probably while rocking them back and forth, too
56. what animal do they most relate to?
she turned into horses a lot so....... honse
63. what fight has scared them the most?
the fight with Mr. Ciliary when Mick seemed dead-set on sacrificing herself so that Harmony and Bill could leave scared her quite a bit
69.how would they describe their party members?
Mick: "My girlfriend!!!!!!!! She's so strong and cool and pretty, and she's a really big streamer, I love her!!!!"
Bill: "One of my best friends! He's really smart, and crazy good at fencing. And he takes really good care of Mikey."
Nomiki
4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be?
Mending would be really useful for her
12. have they ever been in love?
yes, she loves her boyfriend Ramiel, the god of storms
18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower?
a leader, even if she has to strike out on her own
24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most?
🌎 (earth) for strength and stability
25. what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear?
she likes to hear any stories told by her dad
she tells a lot of myths and folktales and fables
35. which party member do they worry for?
Xiro, at least until their fighting training started to pick up
40. do they enjoy poetry?
yes, though she's no good at reading or reciting it, she likes to hear it being spoken aloud
42. what are three words they would use to describe themself?
big, strong, stubborn
44. what do they need to learn?
nomiki needed to learn how to trust people and open up again
45. how do they hug people?
BIG hugs. huge hugs from a huge woman with huge arm muscles (and later on huge wings). like being wrapped up in a warm blanket in the dead of winter, like the promise of safety from any monsters out to get you. like a loaf of bread right out of the oven.
56. what animal do they most relate to?
cows! pretty, large, gentle, stubborn
63. what fight has scared them the most?
fighting the King of the Storm played right into her storm phobia, so much so that she couldn't even face it properly and mostly dealt with its offshoots
69.how would they describe their party members?
Xiro: "Xiro is my friend, and my little sibling. They're a really good fighter and baker, and they've helped a lot of people.
Muire: "Muire's my friend too. She's crazy smart, though sometimes she can forget not everyone around her is as smart as she is. But she has a good heart."
Odonys
4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be?
being able to cast Zone of Truth would come in handy when dealing with Q'ix, but since they only have two levels in paladin now, they've lost the ability to do so 😔
12. have they ever been in love?
tritons don't feel stupid things like love.
18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower?
follower. second-in-command, sure, but still a follower. though that's been shifting, lately...
24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most?
🌊 for its adaptability and power
25. what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear?
they don't really tell stories, but they like to hear the tales of myths and gods and heroes
35. which party member do they worry for?
as if they'd worry about any of their party members, hilarious! the closest thing would be mild confusion about Suvi's tangled concerns for the party's free will
40. do they enjoy poetry?
they've never had the chance to hear poetry, and i don't think they would enjoy it unless it was in the style of an epic
42. what are three words they would use to describe themself?
solitary, unpleasant, scarred
44. what do they need to learn?
how to exist around others, how to rely on others, what their place in the world is
45. how do they hug people?
they don't.
56. what animal do they most relate to?
a dog, a feral dog to be specific. they even resource guard!
63. what fight has scared them the most?
they have trained hard not to feel any fear when fighting, even on the brink of death. still, being chased by every shark in the ocean did get to them.
69.how would they describe their party members?
Q'ix: "Annoying. Good with their fiddle, gifted with magic, but I don't trust them at all, and I don't know if it's worth keeping them around."
Sloane: "A creature that skinny has no business being anywhere close to the middle of the fight, and yet that's where he is constantly, like Breidr when he gets underfoot. Except Breidr has more bulk. Still, he seems to know what he's doing with that sword."
Suvi: "I wonder if there's even anything underneath all the layers of falsehoods and misdirection she wears. But she has been helpful, and having a cart has come in handy."
Amber: "A woman of few words and strong convictions. I appreciate her presence."
Somnia
4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be?
Catnap, so she can cast it on Nemo and Gimmy!
12. have they ever been in love?
Somnia loves her children very much, and loves life, but in terms of romantic love specifically, no. as for the person she used to be before she died and was resurrected? ... also no.
18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower?
a follower, mostly. she's old, and she's done enough leading that she's happy to let her kids take the lead.
24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most?
🌎 (earth) on account of druid stuff as well as dependability
25. what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear?
somnia likes to tell the stories of the constellations on whatever world she finds herself on! she has an innate ability to know them and know what they mean
she likes to hear whatever sorts of stories are being told, she's really not picky; it's more important that the story is important to whoever is telling it
35. which party member do they worry for?
Nemo, constantly. they are so young and they've been through so much that she can't help but worry. Gimmy is at least an adult, though he still needs a bit of fussing over.
40. do they enjoy poetry?
i don't think she actively seeks it out, but she won't say no to listening to or reading some if the opportunity presents itself
42. what are three words they would use to describe themself?
motherly, empathetic, old
44. what do they need to learn?
she needs to learn that not everyone can be saved, or is worth saving, i think
45. how do they hug people?
with that good deep pressure therapy and mom bod
56. what animal do they most relate to?
tortoise, probably. old and slow and wise.
63. what fight has scared them the most?
the fight with the Found Footage when she was knocked out and wasn't sure whether Nemo and Gimmy would be okay without her. though tbh this upcoming fight with the Imago is more than likely going to take the scariest fight spot, at least until we finally face the Broken Lurker.
69.how would they describe their party members?
Nemo: "Oh, my poor little Orion... they're a good child, they really are. But they were surrounded by people who didn't know or care to realize that, and they've thought themself a nobody for so long that it hurts my heart. I wish they could see how many people they've helped just by being themself."
Gimmy: "Gimmy is very dear to me. He pretends like he doesn't care, but I know that he does. I can see it when he works on his little dragon construct, and when we were speaking to Minerva about Nemo's past. He just needs a little bit of help understanding how to be polite and kind to others, that's all."
Nik
6. which party member do they relate to the most?
tbh probably svetlana. they're both big smarties who have Simic roots! they're basically identical!
44. what do they need to learn?
how to care about other people beyond just "what can this person do for me?"
58. what do they think their role in the party is? what is their role in actuality?
they think they're the brains of this operation and the sole voice of reason, but really they're a bit of dead weight because i didn't build them very well
Valerie
6. which party member do they relate to the most?
tough to say because we've only had a couple of sessions of the campaign she's in, but right now probably Ashlyn. just two mean girls against the world!
44. what do they need to learn?
it's actually not a bad thing to be girly or to embrace femininity, it's not a weakness like she thinks she is but can be neutral or even a major strength
58. what do they think their role in the party is? what is their role in actuality?
she thinks she's the only competent member of the party and the fearless leader; she is an asset in fights for sure, especially once she gets some maneuvers, but in reality she is only one piece of the puzzle
Icarus
20. which of the five senses do they rely the most on?
hearing! icarus has always had impeccable hearing and has relied on it a lot when sneaking around
40. do they enjoy poetry?
he does not talk about the angsty teenage poems he wrote when he was younger and didn't realize he was trans. but i think if he applied himself he could be a good poet, and he likes to read and listen to it.
42. what are three words they would use to describe themself?
selfish, failure, coward
56. what animal do they most relate to?
prior to almost burning to death, he would have said a swan. post-burning... an ugly duck
65. what is holding them back?
what isn't holding him back tbh. he has a lot of issues stemming from being raised to think he was perfect and then tossed aside as soon as he stepped out of line. i think the number one thing though is the image he has of himself as a bad person who does bad things. he used to be a bad and selfish person who has hurt a lot of people; after his near-death experience he became really humble and considerate, but still thinks of himself in terms of his past actions, instead of what he is doing now to redeem himself. what is holding him back is his inability to recognize that he's changed.
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unmaskedagain · 4 years
Text
Demon princess
Yesterday someone asked me what anime show I liked. And it got me to realizing that while I like quite a few anime shows; I never did a crossover for with Ladybug. So I got thinking which anime I should use. My first instinct was Sailor Moon; first anime I ever loved. Hell first show I ever loved, I started watching it when I was four-years-old (I have older sisters). Then I briefly considered Death Note. Maybe a pairing with Marinette/light. It didn’t work out my head. Finally it hit me… And then it completely got away from me. Reminding me why I don’t fuck with anime when it comes to fan fiction. Not my best work but its was a neat idea.
             When her mom told her that her grandfather and her great uncle was coming to town; Marinette panicked. In fact, she had a full blown panic attack. There was no way she was going to get out of this.
           Her mother didn’t speak too much to her father. They had a complicated relationship. Sabine had grown up in China with her mother, while her father resided near Japan, having been born and raised there, in a small country he ruled as king. Only demons resided there.
He had been a cold, stoic man with little interests in the affairs of humans. He certainly didn’t understand why his beloved daughter chose to be around them. However, he had been outright furious when he discovered Sabine had eloped with one and ran off to France. They didn’t speak for almost a decade.
           The silence was only broken when Sabine told her Uncle that she was expecting a child. And half-human or not, Sesshōmaru would be there to welcome his grandchild into the pack. Inuyasha had tagged along to keep an eye on his older brother. Though the older Inu Daiyōkai may have become more tolerable of humans but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have few nasty streaks. Honestly, Inuyasha didn’t trust his brother not to just slaughter Tom Dupain as soon as he met him. The demon lord turned King would have to deal with the unfortunate tales of the Princess who ran off with the Baker; as if it was some foolish romantic tale.
           Somehow, Sesshōmaru remained perfectly polite if more than just a bit standoffish. He outright glared at times. However, he remained in France for months while he waited for his grandchild to be born. Subtly hinting to his daughter, that it would be better to raise the pup among their own kind.
           Then little Marinette Kagura Dupain-Cheng with blue locks, slanted bluer eyes, pointed ears, two magenta stripes on each cheek, and a magenta stripe on each eyelid, and a purple crescent moon on her forehead identical to the one her grandfather had. The baby girl was clearly a demon, a half-demon, but a demon nonetheless.
           The moment Sesshōmaru held his grandchild, he was hers, “She is strong, and will only grow more powerful,” He told his exhausted offspring. “You did well daughter.”
“It takes two to tango,” Tom laughed.
           Inuyasha just shook his head, “You’re not dead. Don’t push this.”
           Over the next few years, Marinette spent most of her childhood split between her parents’ and her grandfather’s palace. Thanks to Shippo’s magic, it was only a portal away. She spent a lot of her summers there too. It was different when Marinette stayed with her Grandfather. She was different.
           For starters, she was a princess and was expected to behave like one. She was a daiyōkai and was expected to act like; keep her emotions controlled and her word precise. When she was five-years-old, her grandfather presented her with two swords made from two of his fangs as a birthday present because, yeah, that was a thing demons did. One sword healed, the other destroyed. Though both swords were the same size; sword that destroyed had been too heavy for her to properly wield. She had to work for years to properly know how to use it. It was powerful and could slaughter a dozen foes with a swing. The sword that healed had seemed rather useless in comparison. It took her years to understand it was, by its very nature, the more powerful of the two.
           When she wasn’t training, she was learning to rule. Demons lived a long life but things happened. It was best to be prepared.
           It was at her Uncle’s insistence that Marinette, just recently turned six, be introduced to playmates of her own age. That was when Marinette learned something; everyone in the palace was employed by her grandfather. In addition, they were all lower demons subject to his rule and of any royal standing.
           The demons with royal standing, children who Inuyasha said were Marinette’s equals, to which Sesshomaru pointed out his granddaughter had to equal, behaved different.
           The kids were haughty, arrogant, and sometimes mean for the sake of being mean to anyone of lesser standing in the demon world.
           The first was the son of Prince Koga, a wolf demon and a minor prince who kept his title because of tradition alone; his name was Hyōga. Prince Hyōga, was older than Marinette by a year, with auburn hair and red eyes, and had eyed the smaller girl with interest.
“Heard your father’s a human,” He said the word as if it taste foul on his tongue.
           In the background, Koga face palmed. In youngest son would get their entire pack killed. Inuyasha glared at his old friend; plotting his death.
“Yes,” Marinette said. “I heard you were name after a giant moth.”
           Hyōga sputtered, “What do you know? You’re just a girl!”
“Don’t make me the bug spray.”
           It was the start of a rather tense friendship; similar to the one Koga and Inuyasha had centuries ago.
           The second was a dragon demon named Kagami; an emotionless girl whose bloodline once rivaled Marinette’s. Marinette had tried to be nice, fearing her uncle world bring the wolf prince back, but Kagami didn’t warm up to her attempts. Finally, Marinette noticed Kagami attention to Marinette’s sword. So she led the other girl to training yard, threw her sword, and said, “I win, we have tea-party. You win, I’ll show you grandfather’s war room.” Then the battle was on. Every time, Kagami would visit, they’d have another duel to see what they did for the day. Both families were pleased at this.
           The next was an ice demon from England; a prissy, blond, name Magnolia who was two years older and, who Marinette knew, only tolerated Marinette’s unladylike behavior because she was a princess.
Then there was the playmate that actually required Marinette to leave the palace and venture to Japan. This meant that she had to hide her demon features like she did when she was in public in Paris.
The boy’s name was Izumo, a decedent of Sango, a legendary demon slayer and Inuyasha’s friend. He was very serious, older than Marinette by four years, and seemed to take it as a personal insult a six-year-old, even a demon one, could best him in a fight. Marinette just wondered exactly what her uncle thought “close in age” meant.
However, her favorite playmates turned out to be Shippo’s grandchildren; both half-human. They both lived in France. One was her age, named Juleka, and the other an older boy named Luka.
As Marinette got older and her visits to her grandfather’s decreased to twice a month during the school year and every summer. Her grandfather was under the belief that Marinette went to a school with other demons, and while technically that was true; there were almost two dozen others demons, it was primarily a human school. Strike one. Her grandfather would only be mildly annoyed.
Kwami and the miraculous, both banned from her grandfather’s kingdom, was active in Paris. The banning of the little gods happened after the destruction of the greatest creation Shikon no Tama. A little marble that nearly ended the world and caused great pain for Inuyasha and his friends for years. After they left, no one knew what had happened to Kwami. As long as they never made another jewel, no one wanted to know.
Except they did make another jewel; earrings, a ring, a bangle, a hair comb, a broach, and so many different objects. Two of which had the power that rival the form Shikon Jewel.
Marinette never told her grandfather that the Kwami and resurfaced and apparently didn’t learn their lesson the first time around. Strike two. Her grandfather just went from annoyed to beyond angry.
Finally, Marinette decided to follow in her Uncle’s footsteps, band together a ragtag group, to stop a dark villain hell-bent on united the two most power Miraculous for gods’ know what reason. And she actively dresses up as superhero to defend the lives of humans. It was why she always wore her hair down around the older demons. Strike Three. Grandfather’s snarly mad with blood red eyes, ready to kill. And Marinette? Marinette is so out its not even funny.
When Sesshōmaru arrived in Paris, Inuyasha on his right, he immediately sensed great power. An ancient power. When he arrived at the bakery, his daughter and granddaughter and the man they lived with (“Oh for hell’s sake, His name is Tom,” Inuyasha snapped. “Sabine’s husband. Marinette’s father.”), he raised an eyebrow at the power radiating from the place, stalked right passed his the three, up to his granddaughter’s room, if it could be called that. Marinette right on his tail.
The room looked normal at first, if far too small. However, it took the demon king five seconds to locate the source of power.
He held up the squirming Kwami between his claws, “Explain, now!” Sesshomaru ordered. His eyes flashed red.
Inuyasha looked at the red creature, Tikki, he remembered was the goddess of creation’s name. His claws extended at the memory of all he had been put through and all he had lost because Plagg and Tikki decided to create something that should’ve never existed in the first place.
Sabine and Tom looked confused. Sabine knew what the creature was, had seen pictures of it, but it was centuries before her time. She always assumed the power that radiated came from Marinette.
Marinette glanced down for a moment before steeling herself, and looking up at her grandfather with a proud raised head. She tucked her hair behind her ear and revealed her jewelry.
All hell broke loose.
“AGAIN!” Inuyasha roared, going full demon mode.
“My grandchild,” Sesshomaru snarled at the being, who looked rather petulant, “You dare!”
           Inuyasha’s fist went through a wall, “You don’t learn your lessons well, do ya?” He asked Tikki.
“The world needs heroes,” Tikki crossed her arms.
           Marinette stepped forward, “It was my choice. There’s a villain that holds another jewel, he must be stopped before he destroys us all.”
“Another Naruku,” Sesshomaru hissed.
“No,” Marinette denied. “He’s human. I fought him before. I know that much. The miraculous hide his overall scent but he bleeds like anyone else. And his is human.”
           Inuyasha turned red eyes to his niece, “And then this will be quick.”
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jilytho · 3 years
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Fools in Uber Pools Ch 4
Hello!! Here is the 4th and final part of my Uber fic! Thank you to everyone who has read and said so many lovely things I appreciate you all! 
Read Ch 4 below or on AO3 or read from the beginning here
**Wednesday, November 11th 8:52PM **
Your Uber Pool is arriving. Please meet your driver, Leonardo, at the predetermined pick up location. 
Wednesday night was Lad’s Night. Tradition. Food and beer and movies and the occasional board game. Then, Remus and Sirius got together which was fantastic. So exciting, true love and joy and pure happiness for his two best friends in the world. Consequential to their happiness, however, meant that James’s beloved Lad’s Nights frequently became him crashing Date Night. Even though they did their best to keep his third wheeling to a minimum and keep it Lad’s Night, it frequently became Lad’s plus a lot of PDA. Tonight was one of those nights.
Sirius picked a horror flick just for an excuse to dump popcorn on James’s head during jump scares and to curl up on top of Remus. James had plenty of practice ignoring their canoodling but apparently they were feeling especially noodley tonight, nonstop noodley really. 
Remus had made it clear that he would drive the both of them home that night but each passing minute made it more and more clear that Sirius would be spending the night and James had the option of sleeping on the couch or Ubering himself out of there. Once Sirius flung his shirt and jeans off and onto James’s head in one motion about three quarters of the way through the movie, he settled on calling his second Uber of the day.
Not only his second of the day, but his ninth of the week simply because James is pathetic. He knows this, he feels this, and anyone who looked at his Uber ride history could prove it. But he couldn't help himself. How was he supposed to deal with the fact that he had met possibly the most amazing woman in the world and then he just stood there and watched her drive away. Correction, slammed the door in her face and then watched her drive away. 
Half of him wanted to just go stand outside of the building they had dropped her off at that first Uber trip and just pray she actually lives there and he could stage a run in, but he felt that was likely to get him a restraining order instead of a girlfriend. 
He stopped himself from doing that (barely) but wasn’t able to stop himself from taking an Uber every day since then. Pathetically paying for a $10.60 Uber ride to work, and then another to go to lunch, and then another to get to the coffee shop closest to that apartment they had dropped her off at, and just one around the block. But no. No Lily. Not even any other passengers except for that very morning when a lady rode with him to the bookstore holding a very large lizard on her lap. 
Lizard Lady was the final blow that pushed him back to reality and to take Uber’s strictly out of necessity, instead of desperation. 
And as much as he loved Sirius and Remus, and loved them being happy, seeing them so happy was certainly a desperate situation. 
He jumped in place on the sidewalk, running his hands together for warmth waiting for Leonardo and his SUV to pull up and looking over his shoulder, still on edge from the horror flick. 
The car pulled up and before James could approach the driver and check for his name, the backseat window came down and a smirking red head was peering out of it. Suddenly the whole night began to look up. 
“Well, look who it is!”
“Lily! It's you! Again!”
“James, it's me! Again!” His entire chest felt bubbly as she slid across the seats so he could come in next to her and watched her smile nearly match his in excitement. He said hello to Leonardo passingly, all without taking his eyes off of Lily, sliding in as close as he could without being considered publicly indecent.
“Wow, of course you would be here right now.” She shook her head admonishingly, leaning back and rubbing at her eyes with her hands. 
“What’s that mean? You manifesting my presence?”
“You wish, Breakfast Boy.” She poked him in the arm, “I’ve just had the worst night ever and was just thinking I needed ice cream or something equally as yummy to cheer me up.”
“So I’m yummy, am I?” His grin split his face wide open, those bubbles in his chest started to feel more like roaring lions now.
“Mmm, something like that. Maybe yummy isn’t the right word. Dashing, handsome, half decent car ride entertainment. Dealer’s choice, honestly.”
“I think I’ll stick with yummy, but really love to hear more about this whole ‘dashing’ thing. Is that like a Prince Charming vibe? That’s really the one I’ve been trying to put out. Prince Charming could make a better nickname than Breakfast Boy.”
“Please, much more like a hungover bumbling idiot than a Prince Charming, don’t you think?.”
“The abuse! I swear, you sign up for an Uber pool, count your blessings that you’ve been lucky enough to ride along with the most stunning redhead in this half the hemisphere not once, but three times, only to find that she’s five feet of beratement and insults.” He leaned back in his seat, mockingly shaking his head.
“Only in this half of the hemisphere? What stunning redheads does Antarctica have to offer?” 
“I’ve never been to the southern hemisphere, I just feel I can’t accurately make a statement about the redheads there. Happy to pop down south for a few days to get some proper research. I’m sure after proper investigation you will be conclusively proven to be the most stunning redhead in both halves of the hemisphere.” 
“Quite the pragmatic answer. I appreciate your commitment to well researched compliments. Truly, the dedication is admirable. Unnecessary though, I feel validated enough. I’ll just stick to this half of the hemisphere to avoid any possibility of losing my title.”
“Probably smart. Wouldn’t want to pop down and come back to find Ed Sheeran has gotten a six pack and has overtaken your spot.”
“Excuse me,” her jaw dropped lightly, “you think all Ed Sheeran would need is a six pack to magically become more attractive than me?”
“Lily, look. I didn’t want to insult you and please don’t mistake me, you’re perfect in literally every single way, like designed by the Gods perfect. But Ed Sheeran is a ginger that can sing and plays multiple instruments. And again, goddess that you are, are you really telling me you can top that?”
“Never in my life have I been so confused if I should be flattered or disgusted.”
“Lily?” Leonardo was turned around to face them. “We’re here.” James whipped around to see they had somehow ended up in front of the same apartment building they had dropped her off the first time. He had barely noticed they started moving, nevermind stopped moving to pull in front of her destination. 
His heart sank as he watched her gather her belongings and unbuckle her seat belt. Who knows when the next time they’d take an Uber together would be. He might not see her for days, or weeks, or God forbid never. 
“Lily, wait!” He blurted the words out, not even slightly knowing what he’d say next. 
Green eyes snapped to his, one hand on the door handle prepared to swing out of the car. 
“Yes, James?”
“CanwegoforanUbertogethernexttime?”
“I’m sorry, James, what was that?” Lily’s eyes wide and mildly concerned. Even Leonardo was turned around looking at him like he had just pulled the pin out of a grenade and suggested they all sit around and watch it explode from real closeup.
“What if,” he worked to speak slowly, feeling his entire face flush scarlet, “the next time we take an Uber together, we get out at the same place.” 
“Like a carpool?” Her eyebrow rose up slowly, corner of her mouth sliding up.
“Like go somewhere. Like go somewhere together, like get in the same car on purpose. And then get out at the same time and go somewhere. Like dinner.”
“You want to get a ride to dinner together?” She was fucking with him. Of course, she couldn’t make this easy when his entire body was turning red. 
“Yeah, erm dinner as like a date, if that’s not super weird or doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” Her grin didn’t slip, and he felt his whole body tense and the rambles coming on, “like get a ride to go to dinner together but like at the same time. And then eat together. And get a ride home. But maybe not home together. Because erm first date and I wouldn’t want to pressure or be too forward. So just dinner. Like a dinner date. Or a coffee date, if that would be okay. Of course not if you’re uncomfortable or think I’m being insane but I think you’re fun and I have fun in the car with you and I think we could have even more fun if it was a meeting on purpose and I’m going to stop talking but Lily, will you go out with me?” His voice rose dramatically to the end until he was practically shouting at her.
“Yes, James.” He felt his entire body let go and those lions started to fire up again,.“Yes, I would love to go out with you. Been waiting for you to ask actually.”
He very suddenly felt like the Uber could run over him and he wouldn’t even feel it. “You should have said!”
She swung the door open and stepped out, looking down at him, red hair swinging around her shoulders. “It wasn’t like I was being subtle. You’re just entirely too thick to pick up on signals. But yes, I would love to go out with you James.”
“Brilliant! Fantastic! We’ll do that then.” He smiled brilliantly, cheeks beginning to hurt.
“You know,” Lily leaned back into the car to whisper, “this is usually the time where a normal bloke would ask for my phone number. You know, so we could set this up later and let Leonardo get on with his evening,” she looked pointedly towards Leonardo who was, watching them both with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. 
“Right! Sorry, Leonardo.” He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Could you please put me out my misery and let me have your number?” he begged.
“Lucky for you,” she dug around in her massive bag once more, “I came prepared. Been prepared actually since our first ride together.” She slid a slip of paper with a number, her number(!), across the seat and into his hand. 
“Use it and let poor Leo go home, alright?” She smiled one last time and slammed the door. 
He sat back in his chair, dazed and overwhelmed, and disgustingly pleased with himself.
“Sorry about that, Leonardo.”
“No worries mate.” He pulled away from the curb slowly, winking at James in the mirror. “Wasn’t expecting her to agree if I’m being honest. Good for you, mate.”
Damn right, good for him. 
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greekbros · 3 years
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"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"
Chapter 4: Into the Wolf's Den
After his encounter with Artemis and Hermes, the wolf creature shambles back to a small entrence way into Mount Parnassus. Through rock and dirt, climbing up and down a corridor of stone, he desends down deep into the earth, back to his accursed master.
As it haphazardly turns around to make full sure of himself that he wasn't followed, he faces a large cavern gate, made from wood scavenged from the surface. Symbolically guarded by two crudely made statues of snarling wolves cobbled together with bits of scraps of pottery, wood and metal.
Due to his fatal injuries, he's slowly dieing from wound. Inspite of reanimating, he doesn't have too much time until the magic that keeps him half-alive wears off. Inhaling the damp, musty cave air, he let's out a long low howl, alerting the guards at the gate. The first guard, probably on his first day on the job, pokes his head through the gate wall much like a dog would stick its head trough a hole in wall.
"YESH, PASSWORDSH?" the young gaurd in a gruff toothy voice. He looks down and sees that there was no time for passwords, the wolf at the gate was fading fast. "HEELP! WALKN DAED! He clumsily shouted.
The dieing wolf started to cough up blood and fluids. He barked in agony for assistance to come faster. As he was swaying back and forth, two other wolf-men dressed up in hoplite armor carrying a patchwork stretcher come trough a hidden door build on the left of the gate, nearly indistinguishable from the panels of wood around it. They assist the wounded wolf man on to the stretcher, hastily going through the door.
The young gaurd wolf struggled for a second to unstick his head from the hole, but successfully gets free. He scampers towards the two soldier wolves, sneaking past his boss and fellow gaurds, he avades being seen by the others as his child-like curiosity and excitement to hear news from the surface. He passes down the subterranean paths and bridges, entangling the vast width of the cave, passing by makeshift markets, mining carts, runs past other wolf-folk, squalored in the dark damp cave. After navigating the rafters of a place loving called "Lycadia", he secretly arrives to a little ledge over looking the more elaborately constructed throne room of the ruler of this dark new underworld, King Lycaon. Alas, six other equally immature wolf-folk had the same idea and took his best spot, so he tries to squeeze a little towards the floor of the ledge to get a better look at what could possibly happen.
Down in the thrown room, the two hoplite wolves present King Lycaon the dieing scout. After so many decades, time has been cruelly kind to Lycaon, he still wore the royal robes he had on that faithful day, but now....the robes adorned a man no longer, but gnarling old wolf. His eyes glowed a sickly gold, his fur was dull with age but combed and clean, inspite living the rest of his life as an animal...he certainly did not want to live the squalored life of one. Lycaon, huntched down on his throne, snarled at the sight. "Wwwhat happened?" He growled. He got up from his throne, with every step followed by a tiptap of his claws and the jangling of the stolen jewelry and gold that he adorned. "How DARE....you comeback without any new tributes from.....grrrrrrr.....the surface." Said through a snarled teeth.
One of the hoplites, sheepishly interjected considering his fallen brethren was not fully capable of speaking. "Um...your highness, he was injured in...b-bbattle." he stuttered in fear of what Lycaon would do to him for defending a lowly scout. He points to the scout's mouth and neck, where Artemis's arrow had penetrated. The scout however, was fading fast, wheezing as the dark force keeping him alive was slowly abandoning him.
Lycaon glared at the scout with daggers in his eyes, furious that he had failed his mission. "Grrrrr, figures. You should be grrrreatful that you're even here.....the prRRRrrrivilege of laying your eyes on your KING....for the last time...now...tell me....." he snarls as he takes out a tiny vile and gently drops a miniscule droplet into the scout's mouth, just to give him a little more life to relay the information he had.
The scout's mouth burned as soon as the liquid touched his tounge, at first wheezing from the hole in the back of his throat, now healing over, letting him cough and scream. This wouldn't last too long, he was dead prior to arriving, so this was just to relay information. "Master, I-I was fofofffollowing the moon goddess" he struggled to speak.
Lycaon listened carefully.
"I-I...I was clossse, to capturing herrrrr....ssssshe was so clossse....until.....the messenger came. Warrrnnnnned her." He continued.
Lycaon his snarl worsened with anger, he knew exactly whom the scout was referring to. "Go onnn...or I'll put you out of your pathetic misery....." He threatened.
The scout coughed, just as fast as the liquid restored him, he slowly fading fast. "But.....I have good news....out numbers....grow...more and more...new citizens....will join....our....ranks...the gods....are unaware.......long...live...king Lycaon.", with the scout's last words, he breathes his last. Dieing on the floor of the throne room.
Although it was not much, King Lycaon was satisfied with this...but it doesn't stop him from being unsatisfied. He dramatically turns around, "Throw his body into the consumption pit. It will keep those BEGGERS away for a bit." He coldly commanded. "How many in our army?".
The hoplite wolves immediately went into attention, "400 men and soldiers, my Lord. All varying from all across Greece, even a handful from Persia and Rome." One replied.
Lycaon, glared back at the hoplite. "Women?" He asked.
"12, your highness. 5 priestesses among them", the one replied.
A sick and perverse smile crawled across his maw, licking his lips for what the prospect of comes from taking virgin priestesses, "exccccccellent....I suppose.....the number of....'new blood'....has risen?", the tyrant king continued.
The hoplite wolf, slightly uncomfortable with having to tell this information, "um...yes my Lord...74 young children...ready for conversions." He responded.
King Lycaon, let's out a small inconsequential chuckle but slowly that chuckle grows in volume and intensity, it grew into a mad cackling. As the caves echoed with his evil laughter, howls can be heard reverberating from all corners of Lycadia, the waves vibrated and boomed throughout, as if the whole mountain would explode from the conchophony of wolves. He stops, and turns to the hoplites, "...wwwhHat are you two... STILL doing HERE! Rrrremove that pile of useless flesh from my throne room! And send some one here to cleeeean this spot....a king must be prrrresentable....to introduce....the new generation of LYCANS to Lycadia....once we our numbers grrrow....we shall convert ALL of Greece, than....hmhmhmhmhehehHAHAHAHAH!....the world...now....GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" He dramatically finished.
The two hoplites scrambled to to take the corpse and drag it to the consumption pit, where the lower caste lycans scavenge for food. The cruel king, claimed up to his throne to rest his old bones. He has been ruling Lycadia for less than two centuries, outliving any possible living decent that could even remember Lycaon. He believed, once his plan would come to fruition, he will be king of far much more than Lycadia.
The lycan youths, satisfied with the display of King Lycaon's authority, all leave the ledge to go back to whatever they were doing. The head guard was there too, tapping his foot in disapproval of the young gaurd's unprofessional behavior. All of the young welps had left....with the exception of one very young pup. Who seemed to have decided to be curious about "the surface". Unlike the other welps, he wasn't converted, he was born in Lycadia, roughly six years of age, he was rearing for a more exciting adventures. All of Lycaon's talk of this world above his stony world, had him thinking about exploring. As he scampered through out possibly the same path as the young gaurd, he sees the big wooden gate. Like an inconspicuous mouse in a vast garden, he's unnoticed by the guards, granted a good mix of them probably weren't gaurd's prior to conversions. The pup slipped through a little opening in-between to large logs, trotted off to new horizons.
After to what the little pup felt like forever in his whole, he finally catches a glimpse of the 'surface'. He sees the sunset, just slowly about to retire to leave room for moon, although he couldn't understand why the big bright thing sank into the horizon, he knew it was too bright for him to like, the little pup thought he would go blind the moment he saw the sun for the first time. However, time was on his side to give him a small taste of daylight before the night came, giving him the gift of moonlight for the little pup to explore in more suitable light. This whole new world was filled to the brim with smells and sounds the pup would have never dreamed of, he drinks in the sight of this little patch of forest, extending his little pawed hand to touch grass for the first time, feeling it's cold but pleasantly prickly blades. His tail, too small for it to be considered a tail but some older lycan's standards, wags uncontrollably, the little pup knew this bold new world was ripe for adventure. Without looking back at the cave entrence, he darted through the grass, off to an adventure.
End of chp4
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lifebeginsbyleaving · 4 years
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It’s Snow Not My Fault
I would like to start this off by saying this was supposed to be absolute crack... But blame @halevetica for encouraging my brain to make some semblance of sense when this is all utter madness. Almost 6k words. This is for @sterek-bingo
In hindsight they wouldn't have messed with magic they didn't understand, in two hours ago sight how cool would a talking snowman be?!?!
************************************************
Derek should've known better.
Correction, Stiles should've known better, but Derek should've known better that Stiles wouldn't know better.
They all should've known better.
They should've known better than to leave a bored Stiles with hundred year old mystic books and a best friend that doubles as a guinea pig, who replies, 'Sure man. If you think so.' to things. Stiles should've known better than to try a spell unsupervised. Scott should've known better than to sit still while Stiles chanted around him. Derek should've known a ten minute run for food was too long to leave them in his loft.
And Stiles should also damn sure know not to stand there melting on his hardwood floors.
If he could go back to a moment in particular, it wouldn't be when he left them. It wouldn't be when he left out the mystical texts. It wouldn't even be when he dropped his keys in shock.
It would be the moment he went to open the door. He would go back and just decide, nope I'm going to live a normal life. He would walk right out of the building and drive till he didn't even know where Beacon hills was, what was happening, or what the hell a Stiles was.
But alas, he could not. He was stuck. Stuck to live the life of having to open that cursed door.
The one that he could smell the stink of magic wafting under.
He hesitantly unlocked and opened the door.
He was greeted by eerie silence.
"Stiles? Scott?"
There was a loud, "Thud, thud!" A dull thumping like something large bounding closer.
He heard a shriek from the opposite side and no matter how much he didn't want to look away from the possible threat the yell pulled his attention.
A lightning flash of a small body running at top speed caught his eye. A kid with curly dark hair shot past the door. He was waving his arms around wildly with way too long sleeves flapping behind him.
Derek hadn't even noticed the thumping stopped near him, too absorbed in the shock of the child. He darted in front of the doorway and as he ran past something caught Derek's eye.
There was a large snowman in front of the door, one that hadn't been there before.
In an instant it's stick arms were flailing in a way that seemed to want to convey for him to stay calm. "Derek, don't freak out."
That voice came from that snowman. That snowman was talking. The snowman knew his name. The talking snowman knew his name and was talking to him.
Just then he felt an impact on his leg and something wrapping around it. On instinct he almost kicked it away, but he was glad he didn't. Looking down was the small child no more than four. His little teary eyes were looking up at Derek.
"Please save me from the scary snowman!"
Derek's mouth gaped as he looked at the kid. His tears stared to flow and they fell on a red and white striped shirt with grey sleeves. Wasn't that Scott's shirt? Wait- was that Scott?!
"Oh sure! Of course you like him! Totally not cool bro!"
Derek looked at where the snowman was crossing his twigs.
Oh fuck.
"Stiles?!" He dropped his keys in shock. "What the hell!?"
"I said don't freak out, sourwolf!"
Yup, that was definitely Stiles. He listened to the rest of the loft to try and hear a witch or intruding presence. After a quick scan of the room he saw candles, herbs, and open books that he definitely told him not to touch.
Derek tried to gather strength. "What happened, exactly?"
Stiles took a deep breath and if it wasn't currently covered in frost Derek knew the exact face he would be making. "It wasn't my fault! I was just looking in the book and it seemed cool so I showed Scott and he agreed, okay! So I was like, how cool would an Olaf be?" He stayed solidly rooted in place, but Derek could tell if he could, he would've been pacing. He was getting more and more upset and loud as he kept talking. "The spell seemed harmless! It said something about using childlike glee to make a snowman come alive and taking a chill from his heart. And now Scott is five years old!..." He flung his twigs out towards Scott, and then back towards himself. "And I'm a snowman!" The last sentence was said hysterically.
Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are either of you hurt?"
Stiles took a deep breath to calm down. "Other than Scott screaming bloody murder when I get close? No, we're both fine."
Derek's voice was flat. "That's so great. It would've been a shame if your coal pieces would've fallen off."
The coal pieces in question made a wide O. "Rude Derek."
"I'm not the one melting all over someone else's hardwood floors." He gave a pointed look down at the puddle rapidly growing around him.
"Well sooorry." Once again he crossed his twigs indignation.
Derek let out another sigh as he leaned down to pick up his keys. It was difficult with the many grocery bags and weeping child attached to his leg. "Stiles, go sit Scott in the living room. I've got to put away the ice cream."
Stiles' twigs flung out wide. "Derek! I'm a fucking snowman! And you're worried about the freakin ice cream melting?!"
Derek leveled him with a flat look. "Stiles, you do this sort of shit too often for me to drop everything."
Derek tried to make his way to the kitchen, but the small body just clung to him more. "I need you to let go bud."
Scott's teary eyes burrowed into his pant leg and he shook his head. "I don't like him!"
"Come on, I'm your best friend! I'm Stiles!"
Scott looked over at him and shook his head again. "You're not Stiles! Stiles has face dots. And hands!"
Derek's face softened slightly. "Alright. You can come with me." He shifted all the grocery bags over to one hand and leaned down. "Is it okay if I pick you up?"
Scott immediately wrapped his arms around Derek's neck. Derek walked into the kitchen as he heard a sulking Stiles bound away.
He set the bags on the counter. "Is it okay if I set you down?" The mop of hair shook adamantly against his neck as his little arms tightened. "Okay." He settled him more against his hip.
Well, Derek supposed he was a babysitter now.
He held onto Scott with one arm and grabbed his phone with the other.
"Derek I swear to God I've got t-" Lydia's voice sounded annoyed.
"Stiles is a snowman and Scott is a half naked five year old." Derek figured it was just best to just rip the band-aid off.
"I'm four!" Scott protested and shoved three fingers in Derek's face as he wiggled.
There was a pause.
"When you say snowma-"
"I mean carrot nose and a beanie instead of a top hat, the whole nine yards."
Another pause and a sigh.
"I'll be there in ten. And I'll pick Scott up some clothes."
When Lydia got there she was greeted by the sight of Derek giving a small child a high-five and a literal snowman trying to change the channel with stick thumbs.
"Good job buddy! We're all done."
She hung her purse on a hook by the door. "How is this my life?"
Derek turned to her. "You aren't the one having to wrangle a four year old and a petulant snowman that's melting on your hardwo-"
A raised voice came from the other room. "Hardwood floors! Yes, we know! You've said it multiple times!"
Lydia went to look and there was a lake around Stiles.
"How-why- What- Okay nevermind, just deep breaths." She sharply inhaled and exhaled. She proceeded overly calm. "Stiles, tell me exactly what you've done."
The snowman turned to her and she would never be able to get that image out of her head. He turned to Derek. "You called Lydia? I mean no offense to a goddess, but isn't this more Deaton's area of expertise? I mean she's better at translation, but her casting isn't better than mine."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't think the snowman should be casting any coal pieces, especially to someone who left mid mani-pedi and could break your arms like twigs. Literally."
"Deaton is out of town you snowball."
"Plow a man while he's down why don't ya."
"Can we focus!" Lydia huffed as she strode into the room. "What book did you use?"
Stiles' twigs aligned with a thick open book. "That one."
She tossed her hair up into a bun as she walked over to it. She looked at the cover. "I can't even read half of this Stiles. How do you know what it says?"
The snowman looked shifty. He fiddled with his beanie. "Right. Yeah, so neither do I?" He said it bracing for backlash.
Scott paused sorting his fruit snacks that thankfully Erica insisted upon the loft having. He tugged on Derek's shirt and loudly whispered, "Who is that lady?"
Derek equally as loud and obviously whispered back, "She's a lady that knows everything and is scary unless she likes you."
"Does she like me?" Scott looked at her curiously and with caution. He sent her a small goofy smile and wave.
Derek tilted his head at Lydia.
Her face softened. "Yes I do. You're one of my very best friends."
Scott's grin went wide and crooked. "Do you want fruit snacks?"
She smiled at him. "No, thank you."
He nodded his head then turned back to Derek. "Why is she here? Is she here to kill the bad snowman?"
Stiles scoffed.
"She's here because she's the smartest and can figure out how to undo mistakes of two stupid people."
Derek had already determined from talking to him in the kitchen, that Scott wouldn't know he was insulting him because he didn't remember anything. He only knew he was four years old, his bestest friend was Stiles, and the scary snowman was most certainly not Stiles. Derek could smell instantly that he wasn't a wolf anymore, he was simply four years old again. No trace of the grown up Scott.
Scott shook his head. "There's no way she's the smartest. Stiles is the smartest. She's really really smarter maybe. She's not smarter than Stiles. Stiles is the best." His goofy grin was replaced by a sad look. "Can I see him?"
Stiles shuffled slightly forward. "I am Stiles buddy." The look on his face was the most hopeful look Derek had ever seen on a snowman.
Scott narrowed his eyes. "No you're not!"
"Yeah I am. We used to hide under your bed to eat peanut butter cookie sandwiches. We would take peanut butter cookies and slather peanut butter on one side and jam on the other." While he was speaking he used his stick arms to mime making the sandwiches. "Your mom would always yell for us because we would make a mess in the kitchen, but she pretended she couldn't find us."
Scott's face twisted into anger. "No! She doesn't ever know where we are. She doesn't find us! The real Stiles knows that! You're fake! I want to see my best friend! I want my mom! I want my dad!" Tears started streaming from his red face.
"It's okay Scotty!" Stiles started heavily bounding towards him.
Scott let out a screech and turned to Derek. He scrambled and pulled against his clothing like a monkey trying to climb vines. He made it halfway up before Derek scooped him the rest of the way into his arms. Scott buried his head into his neck and started to cry.
"Stiles. Maybe you shoul-"
Derek wondered if he had started to melt faster with how much he was slumped down.
"Yeah I know. Why don't you take him to the living room and find Balto in my movie case. It's his favorite."
Derek gave him a flat look.
"Don't give me that. We both loved that movie long before your furry butt showed up. And I think I've done a very good job of not mentioning it before now."
Derek simply raised an eyebrow before turning to go make popcorn.
Stiles hollered after him. "There's a bag of puffcorn in the top cabinet!"
Derek yelled back. "He's four not an infant! He can have regular popcorn!"
"If he chokes, I'm telling Melissa this was all your fault!"
Derek didn't reply.
"If you two children are done arguing maybe we can fix the actual child and the ever growing puddle soaking my shoes." Lydia's cold voice masked her concern.
They busied themselves with the books as Derek changed Scott then got them settled in to watch the movie.
Scott snuggled into Derek's side and giggled through the start of the movie.
He pulled the blanket around Scott as he looked down at him. He looked so small, he looked fragile. In a way Scott always looked like that, but this was mixed with an innocence.
He caught the sound of Stiles' voice and he wondered if he ever looked like this. It was hard to imagine, he almost couldn't. As childish and young he could act, Derek had never known Stiles to have a childlike innocence. But then he thought of the two of them under Scott's bed hiding from Melissa and he could almost see the shine of his big brown eyes. For an instant he wondered why that look was so completely gone and so soon, but then he remembered.
His mother. Stiles had lost his mother at such a young age and ever since, he carried it with him. He supposed Stiles was a lot like himself, trading innocence for carrying the people lost to them with themselves out of guilt.
He wished he'd known Stiles then, he wished he could've protected him. Just gathered him in his arms and let him cry until he felt better. He also wished Stiles had found him. After Paige, after the fire. Wished they'd been closer for after Laura. But then he was also grateful he was there for after Boyd.
Looking down at Scott made him feel so many things. He was so small, and he needed to be protected. He needed to be saved, brought back to who he was. But looking down at his small face he looked so angelic, so perfect.
He reminded Derek of his little brother. He used to watch cartoons on the couch with him every weekend. Derek tightened his arm around him as he thought of a house filled with kids. He cleared his throat as the memories he had buried long ago resurfaced. He never let himself feel how much he missed having younger siblings and kids around. How much he missed watching movies and pretending to not see hiding places. He felt a hurt in his gut thinking that as soon as Scott was back to normal he'd never see innocent little eyes look at him again like he could protect them from the entire world.
He was hit with a wave of longing. Not just for the family he lost, but for one he'd never have.
He was pulled out of his head by the distress wafting over from the table. "What's wrong?"
Stiles' voice came immediately. "Nothing. Just watch the movie sourwolf."
Derek's eyebrows furrowed. He gently moved over Scott and gave him a reassuring look when he looked alarmed. "I'll be back." He brushed his curls away and kissed his forehead.
Derek walked over to a tense Stiles and a worried Lydia. "And how come, nothing, with you is always someone is about to die?"
Lydia winced.
Derek's face went hard and he spoke very controlled. "Stiles. Is someone about to die?"
"Technically we don't know if it's about to, we just know it's soon."
It was very hard to take that news seriously when it was literally from a snowman, but seeing the growing puddle made it sink in a bit.
He looked to Lydia. "If he melts will he die?"
She grimaced and picked up the book. "Ice will freeze the spirit and magic in place. But, if the snow flakes guarding the heart melt, the soul will slip away."
Derek closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How do we get him back to normal?"
She looked at the book once again, but frustrated this time. "We're still trying to figure that out. The translation is a difficult one, not only is it in a different language it has a double coded cipher. It will take hours to figure out. And I don't even know if the spell will tell us how to fix both of them. I turned up the air conditioner as high as I could but..."
They both looked to where Stiles' body looked ready to melt in half.
"Can't we just stick part of him in the freezer? Preferably his head?"
"Hey! And no. If this is like any of the  Nordic magic I've studied, any part that is melted or taken away just turns to regular water. It would have to be my entire body. Right now I wouldn't fit, but if it gets down to it-"
"If it gets down to it you could die! We don't know how melted you have to become before it's too late!" Derek yelled.
Stiles laughed and replied. "Believe me, out of all the ways I thought I'd go out, a snowman was not even in the top one hundred."
Derek's eyebrows pinched. "Will you, for the love of God, take this seriously! You could die! If it gets to the point-"
Lydia looked determined. "We won't let it get that far. You have to have an idea. You always have an idea! Think Stilinski!"
He huffed out a chilled breath and hopped over towards the book. "This spell might work, but I haven't finished the translation of the description. All I can get is that if you focus on something it will cause it to be filled with snow, ice, and winter air. But that's not for sure, and I can't cast like this. I tried to use a spell before to catch Scott and nothing happened." He looked over at Lydia unsure. "Also your casting-"
"Will have to be enough." Just like that, she began the spell, not that they would've been able to change her mind.
She spoke the last word and she lowered her arms that were pointed at Stiles.
Nothing happened.
"Well that's unfort-"
"Whap!" In an instant the entire loft was covered in three feet of snow.
Stiles looked at Lydia who's arms tensed in shock. On her bun sat a tiny pile of snow an her shoulders were covered too. He looked over to Derek and started laughing hysterically. There was a pile of snow on his head and shoulders too, but there was also snowflakes in his eyebrows and lashes. He had the most menacing look on his face as he looked at the room covered in snow.
"Dereeeek!"
By the time Derek had scooped up an equally frozen Scott, went upstairs with him and Lydia, and trudged back through the snow with all three of them wrapped in multiple layers of Derek's clothing Stiles still hadn't stopped laughing.
Derek huffed. "Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Guess who's going with me to pick out all new furniture jackass."
"That's a bad word Derek! You have to call him a poopybutt."
The snowman grinned at him. "Yeah Derek, you have to call me a poopybutt."
"You better be careful before I kick your snowballs."
Stiles smiled. "Oh I'm really pissing myself over that insult."
Derek turned to Scott. "You know not to eat the yellow snow right?"
Scott only cocked his head in confusion, but Lydia and Stiles burst out with laughter.
"Oh shut up." Stiles took a chunk from his middle and hurled it at Derek and Scott. Derek turned his back to shield Scott, but the snowball burst on his back and part of it hit the back of his neck.
He turned back with a dangerous glint. "Oh you're on Frosty."
Scott quickly brightened and shrieked, "Snowball fight!"
It was chaos within seconds.
Derek had flipped the coffee table on it's side for cover and Lydia hid behind Stiles.
She initially didn't want to be involved, but Derek nailed her right in the side of her face. The snow melted and smudged her make-up. It was war.
What Scott lacked in aim he made up for in enthusiasm, he was throwing snowballs as fast as Derek could make them. Lydia had a deadly accuracy, but she was slower.
Scott was starting to tire, then it was quiet for a moment. He looked over and they were fighting.
"Lydia just let me!"
"No! You're my only cover!"
Stiles was trying to bend over to make his own snowball and Lydia was trying to pull him back up to stay hidden.
"I want to throw one!"
"I'll make you one!"
"No I want t- ahhhh!" Stiles' top two balls fell into the snow and separated. "Oh my god! I'm in half! I'm two halves! Am I dead?" His twigs started feeling the ground and his body. "No I'm not. I'm fine!" Stiles started to let out a relieved laugh and Lydia joined in.
Derek looked over to Scott who was pointing and laughing. Seeing the clear joy he too joined in.
"You guys. I am stuck though."
They laughed harder.
"No really, I can't get up."
More laughter.
"Help me! Please?"
Derek wiped away tears as Lydia tried to speak through her laughter.
"You're- you're too heavy. I- I can't lift you."
They spent a few moments calming down.
"Derek? Scott? How about a truce? Just until I get back on my feet, literally. Well actually, I don't have feet right now."
Derek turned to Scott and even though there was some apprehension, Scott gave a nod.
They abandoned their post and trudged over enemy lines.
Stiles was surprisingly heavy. When Derek let out a grunt of effort Stiles smacked him and Scott even tried to help.
Derek should've expected it, but he didn't.
As soon as they stood him up Stiles tackled him and Lydia began pelting him with a stockpile.
"Hey! You guys broke the truce!" Scott whined.
Stiles spoke as he shoved snow in Derek's face. "It was only till I got up!"
The look of disapproval faded.
"You should help us! All of us against Derek!"
Lydia nodded. "He's going to lose. You should be on our team! We have a snowman!"
Derek started to thrash. "No! Scott would never! He's my buddy!" He dramatically lifted an arm towards him.
Scott looked considering till he threw himself next to Derek.
"Ha see Stiles! Scott wou-"
Mid sentence Scott stuffed a snowball in his mouth.
Stiles lifted his twigs up. "Woo whoop! Ultimate victory against Derek!"
"Ahhhh no! I have been defeated!"
Scott giggled and Stiles and Lydia smiled at him.
"No laughing at me you traitor!" In one quick movement he swept them all into his arms and pulled them on top of him. "Snowpile!"
They all burst out laughing.
It was warmer with all of them laying on the snow together.
Lydia adjusted the ill fitting hat she borrowed as she spoke. "We should make snow angels."
Scott nodded and got off Derek by sticking a boney elbow in his ribs.
They all made a snow angel except Stiles, who's angel looked like a snowman angel hybrid.
Once he was done with his Scott jumped on Derek.
"Oof! You're heavy!"
Stiles looked over at them with a smile that quickly turned to concern. "And he looks cold."
Stiles' twigy fingers pinched his red nose lightly. Scott crossed his eyes to look at them.
Stiles looked at everyone. "You know what is the opposite of cold snowy days?"
He continued, "Hot chocolate."
"Hot chocolate!" Scott said at the same time.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. They high fived each other.
Derek and Lydia looked at each other confused.
That made them laugh harder.
After one particular giggle from Scott he and Stiles both began to glow.
Stiles looked down at his sticks and Scott looked at his hands.
Scott looked afraid. "Stiles! What's happening?"
He was torn between being happy Scott finally believed it was him and terrified for what this glow meant. He didn't get long to freak out.
Simultaneously, Scott rapidly grew older in front of them, and Stiles suddenly felt very cold. Very cold.
"What the hell just happened?" Scott seemed more confused than anything. "Stiles? Why am I naked on Derek's lap surrounded by snow?"
Derek turned to Stiles with a raised smug eyebrow.
"Why do you assume I know! You're on Derek's lap, not mine!"
Scott nodded. "Yes, but you're naked too. And normally if I got into something, it's because of you."
Stiles squinted. "Not fair!"
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, for him."
Stiles pouted.
Derek spoke up. "What made you guys go back to normal?"
Lydia seemed to consider it for a moment while muttering. "Oh! Childlike glee! We got it backwards. It gave Scott a chill in his heart towards you and you had to cause him glee to get back to normal! This wasn't a spell to make a snowman, it was a curse! Huh, clever. Well I am going home to take an extremely hot shower."
She got up to go gather her things.
"Yes, please! I need to warm up."
Scott held his arm. "Wait! I still need to know what happened?"
Stiles whined, "Scott, just because you have a nice and toasty werewolf seat doesn't mean we all do. Come on man I'm freezing my dick off here!"
Scott smirked. "Are you jealous of my super warm werewolf seat? Maybe if you asked nicely Derek would help you with your freezing di-"
Derek dropped his bare ass onto the snow.
"Cold man! Real cold!"
Lydia strode over to Derek and planted a kiss on his cheek. "A pleasure as always Derek. Next time though, if you leave the big boy books out for your kids I'm not picking up. Goodbye boys." With a wave over her shoulder she was gone.
"Rude!" Stiles yelled after her. "Any way I'm going to go upstairs to shower." He tried to get up with as much dignity as he could. "Please remember that it is cold."
Scott shouted after him. "You have nothing to apologize for bro! Your dick is perfect!"
Stiles cackled as he heard Derek's noise of disapproval at their lack of decency.
After his boiling shower he felt so much better, but he didn't want to ever have to look at snow again, much less deal with an entire room of it.
He went down the snow covered stairs in the thickest pair of socks he could find in Derek's drawers. He sighed knowing he would have to change them.
"Did Scott leave?"
Derek had shed a few layers and Stiles wondered if he only put them on for little Scott's benefit.
"Yeah. He said he had to talk to Allison."
Stiles nodded. "I assume he told you to tell me goodbye."
Derek considered lying, but he figured Stiles knew the answer.
Derek decided to change the subject. "I never knew he was that cute."
Stiles grinned. "You should've seen me. We could get away with anything. We were such horrible children." Stiles started to laugh. "My dad used to say he hoped I had the antichrist as a child because it would be an angel in comparison to me."
Derek looked away as he spoke. "Is that something you want?"
"The antichrist? No, I'd rather not. But kids, a couple rugrats? Yeah, I want a few and maybe more. I always wondered what it would be like to have a bursting house. I always said I'd foster though. There are already so many kids that need love right? Why not take care of them first. What about you?"
Derek shrugged. "It's not really in the cards for me."
Stiles nodded. "Not everyone wants them. That's fine."
Derek decided to let him think what he wanted. He was wondering about something else though. "Why did you do that spell?"
Stiles rolled his eyes as he started moving his hands in sweeping motions.
The snow swirled in little gusts and started to slowly disappear.
"I didn't think it would go wrong jackass. I didn't mean for it to happen."
Derek still had a serious look. "No, I know you didn't mean for it to do that, but why did you do it in the first place? I mean you'll do reckless magic sure, but that was stupid. You hadn't finished the translation, Deaton wasn't here to fall back on, and using Scott like that, you are reckless. You aren't stupid."
Stiles huffed. "I thought it would help. He's been having a rough week. He's fighting with Allison a lot lately, that last week was a lot to put on his plate, and he's just been stressed lately. I saw the childlike glee thing and I thought-"
Derek smiled softly. "You thought it would make him happy."
"He just needed a break."
Derek nodded and Stiles continued to work in silence.
"You're a good friend."
Stiles' hands paused. "Scott is a good friend too." His voice had an edge.
"No, I know. And you heard him today, he knows it too. Even if he lives in the big world now, even if he's big now and forgets to show that he knows it."
Stiles seemed to get what he was saying and resumed his work. "He's just stressed lately. Sometimes friends take more than they give. Sometimes they take without realizing what needs to be given. It doesn't make them bad, it just makes them human. Loving them doesn't change that they're people."
Derek narrowed his eyes. "Do you need something he isn't giving you?"
Stiles tilted his head from side to side. "Yes and no." Stiles' eyes met Derek's. "It isn't his fault I'm lonely." He looked back down. "It isn't really anyone's."
"It's my fault."
Stiles' hands and the wind stuttered.
"I'm your alpha. If you are lacking it means I'm not providing."
Stiles did a big sweep. "This isn't the sort of thing you could provide."
"Am I not your friend?" Derek tried to not show his hurt.
Stiles smiled. "Of course you are sourwolf. I meant either of you. It is not the sort of company a friend can fill."
Comprehension crossed his face. "Oh."
"I don't fault Scott for loving Allison, I just wish I had someone that loves me that much." Stiles shrugged as he finished the last few sweeps. He surveyed the loft looking for things out of place or somewhere his magic hadn't swept and dried.
Derek couldn't stand the acceptance in his voice towards his sadness. Like it was okay or even fathomable that he wouldn't have someone that loved him. "You do."
Stiles let out a snort. "Not, like that. Not in that way." Stiles straightened a picture frame the fell.
Derek tried to swallow to clear his throat. "You do."
Stiles turned with a puzzled look. "I- I don't un-"
"I do." Derek steeled himself. "I love you like that. I love you that much."
He looked distrustful. "Why have you never told me before now?"
"I don't deserve you, but I don't want you to think you aren't loved. God, never think that. In any way. Because I love you in all of them."
Stiles walked up to him. "Are you being honest with me?" He looked up at him with wide brown eyes.
Derek closed his eyes. "Yes I am."
Stiles scoffed. "Say it looking into my eyes, and maybe I'll believe you weren't toying with me to be a jackass." Stiles turned to walk away.
Derek caught him by his arm. "I didn't look into your eyes because every time I do, I fall more in love with them, with you. And I worry if I fall anymore I won't be able to look at you without kissing you." Derek could feel him turn back towards him.
"Derek, open your eyes."
Derek shut them tighter before opening them slowly. He didn't feel himself breathing as he looked at Stiles.
"Were you honest?"
"Yes." It came out as a breath.
Stiles slowly brought his arms up and around Derek's neck without breaking their stare. "Derek?"
"Yes Stiles?"
"Look into my eyes."
Derek looked down to his lips and Stiles nodded.
Derek kissed him hesitantly till he gripped the back of his neck with still chilled fingertips that pulled him deeper.
Derek pulled back to look into his eyes again.
Stiles spoke sincerely, "I love you. In every way I am capable. I love you as deep as the core of my being and I can't believe you never did anything about it if you did too."
"I don't d-"
"I swear if you finish that with, deserve you, I will walk out."
Derek wound his arms around his waist. "I don't."
"And I don't give a shit what you think. You're wrong."
"Says the man that turned himself into a snowman hours ago."
"I'm impulsive, not a bad judge of character."
"Well what ab-"
Stiles raked his fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. "How about you kiss me? We can have this fight later, like at out wedding."
Derek snorted. "Quite sure of yourself aren't you?"
Stiles smirked and started to lean back against the unbreakable hold of the arms holding onto him.
"I'll be sure enough about the both of us for both of us."
Derek smiled. "Sounds good to me." He leaned back in and Stiles eagerly met him.
Derek supposes he should've known better, but then again he never knows anything when it comes to Stiles. He always seems to surprise him.
Looking into his eyes he'd be grateful to never seen them turned to lumps of coal again. However, he supposes a pair just like them filled with childlike glee might not be as far out of his grasp or desires as he thought.
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yukheii · 4 years
Text
— in blind faith.
+ pairing :: jeon jeongguk + oc:reader
+ genre and warnings :: greek mythology au, um, fluff? i think? it’s not not fluff and there’s no angst, but i wouldn’t call it romance? see for yourself. mentions of knives/weaponry, hera’s a bitch
+ prompt :: random #7: “can we please stop running? i think i’m dying.”
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“Can we please stop running?” Jeongguk pants, “I think I’m dying.”
He doesn’t really wait for an answer; hunching over with his hands on his knees before his lungs threaten to give out on him. An arrow unceremoniously falls from his holster, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Ahead of him, you stop, turning back with a less than pleased expression on your face. And he realizes that, yeah, he’s not making a formidable first impression, and is being a little bit of a cry baby, but in his defense, being chased by multi-headed creatures through an endless maze would tire one out more than usual.
“You might actually die if we don’t keep moving.”
At this point, Jeongguk think he knows you relatively well, so maybe he should have expected that response. It still kind of stings. And certainly doesn’t make his situation any less embarrassing.
You don’t give him much time to recuperate, choosing to continue ahead down the only present path at the moment. He’s thankful for that, though, you haven’t seemed bothered by any split paths the two of you have previously encountered. Jeongguk inhales deeply, attempting to collect himself; he picks up his fallen arrow and jogs to your side.
“So, uh, how exactly do we get out of here?” he questions. “You know, now that we found the knife.”
He hopes the answer doesn’t involve attempting to fight off and run from more monsters, but he’s not too optimistic.
“It’s a dagger,” you correct him.
“Right, the, um, dagger,” he coughs. Dagger, knife, it didn’t mean much to him what you called it—all he knows it that it nearly cost him his life on several occasions. “How do we leave?”
This time it’s you who stops, staring at Jeongguk with eyes wide enough to rival his own. “You mean you don’t see it?”
He follows the line your finger is pointing to, but is met with nothing but thin air and the crinkling of his own eyebrows. “Um… what exactly am I supposed to be seeing?”
“You don’t—” you blink, “The feather? The very bright golden feather that’s been guiding us this whole time?”
Now it’s Jeongguk’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. He takes another look, just to be sure, but he sees nothing of the sorts ahead of him where you’re pointing—just more dimly lit walls and air.
“Um… no?”
“So all this time you’ve just been… following my lead?”
“Well, yeah?” He shrugs, unsure of whether or not that’s the right answer. “I mean, you seem like a pro, and I’ve never done this before…”
“That’s, I mean—sure, but that’s still pretty reckless!” you screech, “You don’t even know me—for all you know I could be trying to kill you!”
“Trust me, I thought you might have been planning it a few times,” he shivers at the reminder of your latest unfortunate encounter, “But, I don’t know, aren’t you like... the daughter of the goddess of wisdom, or something? And you’ve gotten us this far, so you’re doing pretty great to me!”
“Yeah, but…” you frown, the light in Jeongguk’s eyes equal parts concerning and amazing, “Gods, you really don’t see it?”
Jeongguk looks again, because, hey, third time’s a charm, but yet again fails to see the supposed magical glowing feather you’ve been following.
When you follow his gaze it’s apparent—a glow that’s bright, yet warm surrounding the peacock feather; but upon scanning his face, you realize that Jeongguk truly sees nothing ahead of him—and that you must have really been his only source of guidance in the maze.
And he followed you. Willingly—or, arguably, unwillingly; he didn’t have many options. But, still… you think that it should have clicked for him to ask you how you knew where to turn, and what trap doors to open if he really couldn’t see the feather.
Then it clicks for you. “Son of Apollo,” you mumble, more so to yourself than to him, “I knew Hera could hold a grudge, but… I really thought you could see it, too.”
Truthfully, Jeongguk’s been confused for at least thirteen out of the twenty four hours of the day for every day he’s been at camp-half blood—that’s nearly three months of constant confusion—and today is no different, but it’d be a bold-faced lie to pretend to even have a fraction of a clue as to what you’re talking about.
“Sure, I guess—”
“So you’ve just been trusting me this entire time? Even after we nearly got killed by hounds and seven-headed snakes?”
“When it put it like that, I sound pretty stupid, but yes. I told you, I—”
“In blind faith,” you murmur again, cutting him off.
“Huh?” He’s been saying that a lot lately.
“The oracle. It said—well, never mind now. Come on, we should keep moving,” you tell him, taking the first steps forward again.
Jeongguk jerks before walking along side you. “So, we’re uh… we’re gonna follow the feather, right?”
This time you look at him with a smile that reaches your eyes, a look almost foreign to Jeongguk—coming from you at least—but one that he mimics, anyway.
“I’m going to follow the feather,” you tell him, “You’re going to follow me.”
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