#Deimos full title is

[e1dritchqueer]

:3333

[monarisse]

— The Hex paradox [arthur nightingale x gn!drifter]

Arthur asks, why are you still here.

You can't believe that he thinks you see them as pets.

SFW, second pov, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding, angst with a happy ending | 3.6k

ao3

There is a flex of a hand — meat under the skin is terribly tense, just like their owner. Long unclipped nails, map of the old scars with pigment just a little bit lighter than everything else. Further: burn, raw marks from laser. Further: a contaminated virus from the elder beast of Deimos. Further-

This is just a body that holds your consciousness when there are no more metallic constructs of dead people that should be controlled. It was... actually, not so horrible to unfold the truth behind the creations of Ballas. Or others. There was always something more than you in these turned-to-be-bones metallic wires and engines. Always lurking in shadow; just not enough to be found, but enough to feel the sudden twitch of a cobalt fingers or unknown step of feet. Sometimes, even more: dance with a weapon, full of joy; murmur in an unknown language; search for something behind the back. Unnecessary. Unasked. Unprovoked. But... familiar, almost to the pain in your drifting mind.

It's ironic — that they all called you The Drifter. Not The Operator — not anymore, at least. Even if there was someone, in this time of the universe, who would gladly use this title on you, it would not be the truth. And you will not allow it. Hundreds of years after all of this, there would be a child with angry eyes and a thirst for power, who changed too much and too little to be completely you again. So you give them the future and keep yourself in the past — it seems right. Especially because (it's ill-fitting, it's wrong, and it's foolish, but deep down it's what makes them and you one person), The Operator can't travel here. They ask in rare times together how it was.

And for you, it's never "was." It's still here.

———

After winter, spring and summer together, they became steadier, softer. Smoother. Happier. Amir sleeps better. Angered only by some unnecessary presence before, now Quincy finds serenity, covering your back on missions. Aoi plays on the borrowed piano from the music store, and Eleanor whispers in your mind stories that she read in the past about Great Britain. Sharpened on the edges Lettie, today holds her hand to yours, so her beasts could crawl on the skin of this body with hushed squeaks, smelling with their little noses acid and kerosene, that scaldra pours on you every day. Lettie clicks her tongue in disappointment when she sees a new wound on the meat of shoulder — because in this body you can't heal as fast as they, and it's hypocritical to come out of frame when they're — the Mighty Hex, batch of soldiers of the future, your Friends, in the end — still here. And-

It's so. Fucking. Funny. A snicker falls from your lips before you can stop it.

Lettie furrows her eyebrows. In her eyes — something eats the previous light joke and fills it with thick tension.

"What did he do?" Anita squeaks, runs to her siblings, and you just blink.

"Who?"

Oh, it's not a secret. You... can guess who she talks about. And Lettie knows it.

"¡Pendejo! You know who. Don't play an owl with me."

Sharp teeth of the future crash into each other. Smile on these lips — sugary sweet from lies. This is not something new. How many people "The Great Hero" of the New War has deceived around the years of the Narmer regime?

"Nothing. Why you-"

She smacks your arm.

"Shut up. Don't want to hear your explanations. His brooding takes its toll on you," she painstakingly cleans her fingers from void-touched blood. From all of them, Eleanor is one who can feel lies, but Leticia is... another deal. She doesn't have the need to hear your thoughts. Magic of doctors, you guess.

It's strange that she cares about you. After all, these six are a team. And the seventh angle doesn't belong in the hexagon, even if it forces itself inside.

But, for Lettie, you let it slide. Hold her palm in yours and blink a little bit slower.

"I take care of that. Promise"

———

You know it — even too much of something good can be poisonous. Like trivia: this body was not ready for the delicious food that they have here, so on one night with beer and Hex you threw up in the bathroom on the second floor. But... Compare this and... your genuine worry for Nightingale seems like a wrong play of komi, where no one could win.

Worse: you remember Umbra. His blind eye and this wordless trust between him and The Operator. This wordless care that travels with them everywhere. How could you not feel envy when this child not only found the way from Zariman 10-0, but even saved the frame that could think without Tenno? Well, now you have protoframes. They joke with you in their bones, and they help you when it becomes unbearable — this world, this time, this loop. So why, when you stretch out your hand only how you can, it turns out... It is too much. Or too little.

And... what even happens in this thick skull of his, when he abruptly leaves a conversation on KIM, then agrees on Amir's play and, after... drowns you in questions?

Broadsword

So what is it? Pity? Or are you stupid as well as crazy?

Broadsword

Stop dodging! Why. Are. You. Still. Here?!

There is a reminiscence of a dull ache from Duviri. Another swing of an axe above the head. Endless swirl of colors. And buzzing in the skull. This body trembles, unable to comprehend all emotions from a feverish mind, and you pull your hand to clean your face from... something. Anything.

How could he even ask this shit? Like you some bystander that already left them after a week of knowing, just to start a new adventure far far away. Like you didn't search abandoned markets for his favorite beer, didn't bring special ammunition to Quincy, didn't practice with Aoi and Amir on the transmission of intel. Just some guest, not important to add in their ranks.

Nidus quietly shrieks when you transfer back to him. It is something of a habit. You can't even feel the exact moment when his broad frame already exits the backroom, too busy with boiling emotions inside your mind (the biggest question there: what if Kid would be able to help them without this mess of emotions. What if Hex liked the Operator more?).

Höllvania Central Mall never sleeps. Especially now, when there are not seven, but many more breathing shadows waiting for the other day to live, so... It is a little bit of awakening — see disbelief and caution in the eyes of bystanders when the form of Nidus makes his way from the second floor to the first in one jump. But still not enough to stop the heavy steps of the infested frame.

He's in his usual spot, crouched between some ammo for his rifle and computer, and Arthur... seems a little bit surprised. Like it wasn't you who he wrote just seconds ago.

Pity. He called your carefully crafted relationships with the Hex "pity." And you, yourself: crazy and stupid.

"You could just-" There is something more behind his dazed expression, some dark undertone, but it is not about him. Not anymore.

"How could you," Nidus freezes like a mannequin in the doorframe. This body constructs itself right against Nightingale; scarred fingers cling to his shoulder to feel something else beside the usual eerie words of KIM-messages and hushed phrases under the sick sky. His brows rise up even more now, "How could you even think of something like that!"

Arthur's lips twitch.

Prince of fire Lodun, in all his ugly glory, paints your mind with blood and red.

"It's bothering me already enough time to just let it slide," his words twist something in the pit of your stomach, and Lodun's voice screeches somewhere around the frontal lobe. He shouldn't say such words to you. It is blasphemy. Lie. His hand rips your own from himself almost like you hurt him, and the scar around the palm that he left you with starts to pulsate, "You walk around the Mall like everything is okay and we're not just some dead meat to your future."

He is poisonous. Some sort of divine punishment for you, as if you didn't suffer enough for years and years of survival. There are no more light jokes, no more strange, vigorous words with the undertone of something bigger. Only a stern glance on this body.

Prince Lodun fist his finger and crack another hole in your mind walls.

Body of the Drifter winces.

"Are you fucking kidding?" teeth clacks. The jaw's strained to its limit. All of this time together, just drained in the sink, "What do you think? That I stayed here just to forget about you all in the next minute?"

He doesn't need to say it aloud. The answer is written on his face already, and it's making Lodun more loud in your mind.

"How many times have you already done that?"

Lodun roars. This head is pounding.

"What?!"

It's unbelievable. He looks at you with such a sardonic expression, as if he knows that you did something so bad that you even can't stand with him in one room, and... you want to go right in his head to fucking show Arthur how terribly wrong he is.

The worst of all: he keeps going.

"It's convenient, isn't it? To play "friends" with people you can just leave behind," his grip tightens, and Arthur steps forward. A little more and it would become a fight.

You hold back. Just a little bit, but the patience in this body already wears itself.

"So that's what's stuck in your head?" You snarl, "Not bad enough, don't you think?" One step to him, and you feel — one more, and you can crash in his metallic chest. Eyes squint, "Make me a villain more, why not? Maybe I should take control of one of you and dispose of everyone else, huh?" Luscinia weeps in the corner of your mind with these harsh words, but you are unable to hear her — spiral of Loduns anger in its all-power captured you. There is something of a hurt in Arthur's face. But you only use his own method on him. It's almost like he didn't think of this — that you could use his friends against him or even make him a bystander in the nonexistent massacre.

"You can," his voice drops lower. Grip tightens even more — soon bones in this body would be broken by his fingers. "So I advise you to stop pretending like we're important to you," Nightingale bends his head, and you can see the hues of his blind eye for the first time, "and put us all out of this misery."

You're tugging this hand away — alas, it's not working, and a wave of dull pain passes through the body. He never thought that it was as hard for you as for them.

Luscinia crying. The Sorrowful Soprano of Duviri weeping like a mother who lost something too precious for her, and with Loduns anger, it's too much to feel in one moment. Your mind makes itself the battleground of the old Tales.

You want to say: maybe you're right.

You want to say: maybe I should just leave things like they are.

But... the Hex already made themselves important for you. So much that you gladly would stay here forever, with this ancient technology and people of the past. The Operator has their people. Why shouldn't you have yours?

You take a deep breath. Close tired eyes.

"If you think that I should go, I'll do it." There is something too heavy in these words, so you can't raise this head anymore, with your gaze a little bit blurry. Not from tears, "You all became too important for me, so if it would be better for Hex, I'll be gone to my time."

You know: without you, they will all be dead in the New Year of 1999. The reactor will blow up, and Arthur will bleed on the floor of the radiated room, near the bodies of Aoi and Amir.

And you can just feel the power of Spiral, to send it all back in January, to start again.

"Don't make yourself a martyr. You can leave when you want."

That's it.

You snap.

"My fucking Sol," you twitch this head, "you are as dense as Razorback," Nightingale becomes a little bit puzzled by the unknown comparison, but you continue, "What should I say? "Sorry, Arthur, I stayed here because I know that without me you all will die." Your voice becomes louder and louder; it breaks in some words, and you feel: the dam was broken, "And I developed feelings for you, and all of this embarrassing flirting was so bad because I had never done it before? You know, because I was trapped all of my youth in an endless loop of my own death, and I didn't even think that I could feel something like that"," his grip finally becomes loose, and you break the palm from him, only to point the finger at Arthur, "Everyone knows about it. I thought that you-"

Wait. You thought that he already knew about your feelings for him — it was so obvious that Eleanor even asked you not to think about her brother on united missions. But... You shut this mouth and looked at Arthur. He's... flagger-basted. No more anger in his eyes, only genuine surprise, and — worst of all — he continues to keep silent.

"Great," you roll this eyes. Fuck it. Maybe he knew, just feelings weren't mutual, and Nightingale didn't acknowledge it, to leave things as they were. But now you spelled it all aloud, and there is only one way to turn it back. Maybe... no. You don't want it.

Sol, you should just go to the backroom and decay in some corner.

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be going to throw up somewhere on the second floor from embarrassment," you transfer back to Nidus, "don't message me," and head towards the escalator.

Worst: he didn't even stop you.

———

Quincy screams in your comm and it's almost unbearable how he just throws a stash of Scaldra supply on the garage floor, just to head back to civilians in the old supermarket without another word to you.

Blew up the tank without care of flying too far away to not be hurt; melted one of the other stashes; almost got Kalymos dead. You've gone more hectic. But it's still better than lying on a couch with nausea and a sorrowful expression (it's still better than nothing — you remind yourself — you still feel something, and it's better than apathy).

Funny: if the Kid could see you, they would be furious. Throwing some tantrum about how such a mindless thing would wreck you, The Drifter, to some pathetic ordinary human. They were always like this: more hard than you, more prideful. They could chew Arthur's words and twist them so much that the man would not be sure what he even wants anymore. But the Operator is too far away. And you are too arrogant to travel back to them. Lotus would calm you down, embrace you in a motherly hold; however... you don't want it right now. One thing that surely helps: killing. Scaldra or Techrot — doesn't matter.

"I'm worried about you," tells Aoi when the sharp talons of Garuda give her a package full of CDs, "I heard your argument with Arthur." She seems a little bit sheepish, but... you know, that you actually can trust her. Of all Hex, Aoi is the most understandable. You can tell her all your worries, and she wouldn't laugh or write off your feelings. "It's hard with him sometimes, but Arthur cares about us all," of course he is, "you included."

You hum. The sound comes a little bit muffled.

"I'm sure." No, you're not, but there is no need to talk about it right now. Aoi squints her eyes in disbelief. "Sorry, Aoi. It's between me and him and i-"

"Drifter," his voice is too loud in Aoi's lair, but you don't turn to Nightingale. Maybe he will disappear if you don't acknowledge his presence. "We need to talk," Morohoshi shows some kind of gesture that you don't recognize, with her big finger pointed out, and she shakes her head, smiling.

If there were only two of you, you'd find a reason to just vanish in the air.

Damn. Why is it harder than killing an archon with a bow?

"Alright," you sign. Garuda turns around to Excalibur and he is already heading somewhere in an unknown destination.

What does he want to say? That he made a decision to stay with you on friendly terms so that you could save Hex's lives? That he'll save them by himself? Good luck with that. You'll still be here, even if he wants to banish you from others, just not in his line of sight. And when clocks turn 23:56 without catastrophe, you'll let them go and transfer yourself back to Loid, to solve problems of Deimos.

It's some sort of warehouse — you've never been here before, and it's strange how music from the hall becomes only disoriented muffles when Arthur closes the door. You stand a little bit farther from him than usual — not to make yourself comfortable here.

Arthur leans on some kind of cabinet.

Heavy silence falls on you two.

And when you think that this was a bad idea — to come here with him — Arthur starts talking.

"You know that all my life I was a military man," he spins that damn sword — Arthur's voice... not so loud. He speaks almost carefully, like his words already were chosen before this talk, and... you don't know what to think about. Emotion without name, without personification in Tales of Duviri, born in a pit of stomach, "and... I think I was ready to leave some things behind," he's not looking at you; his gaze stops on scratches on the floor, "because there was not enough time, or... I didn't try to understand others more."

You gulp. Garuda's scales tremble.

"And I tend to search for enemies where there aren't any." Finally, Arthur looks at you. There is more than tiredness from endless nights; quiet longing, a hint of uncertainty, something... tender.

He sighs.

"And," Arthur chuckles, and you grit your own teeth, thrashing about to step from Garuda or stay in her bones, "I'm not even entirely human. I mean, look at me," he gestures at the metal skin of his body, "not a usual choice of the mass."

Still, it's better to talk face to face. Especially on topics like that, you make a decision in one moment, to reappear beside him in another.

"Arthur," your own voice strained with hoarse hesitation, "you're a good person. You shouldn't talk about yourself like that." There is a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips, and Arthur blinks a little bit slower.

"You're always saying such things that give me hope." Spinning of his blade comes to an end, and the warehouse becomes more... steady. Peaceful.

Nightingale clears his throat.

"Did you mean it?" comes almost in a whisper, "that you have... feelings. For me."

You tear your gaze from him and put it down, not able to look in his eyes. Yes. It is definitely harder than killing an archon.

Fingers dip in the elbows.

"Yes."

Nothing more. Just a short, clear answer to put any misunderstanding behind.

Remarkably, the stomach stops swirling. All of this body became... calm, like all the worries just disappeared with this one word. Even if Arthur doesn't feel the same, you are glad that you two talked about it. Finally, you can open a new page in-

"It's mutual."

What?

You snap this head to him, and, for the first time in an eternity, you see Arthur smiling. Without some undertone in it, without pressure. Just a clear, happy smile on his scarred face, and you even see some little dimples on his cheeks.

And, maybe it's too early and you should wait some time to do such things, but these hands — your hands — reach out to him, to bury your fingers in his hair and press an uncertain but full-of-burning-emotions kiss to his lips.

It's raw — skin to skin, first too gentle to feel something more than the texture of others, but with every passing moment, all of this bottling adoration for him seeps through the motion. And Arthur answers you, laying his metallic palm in the crook of your neck, to deepen the kiss — he opens his mouth, presses you to himself more, to finally give you something that you wanted too long to confess.

In reality, it's still better than in imagination.

When there is not enough air in your lungs, when your shuddered inhale mixes with his own and both of you break away for a moment, you press your forehead to Arthur's, holding onto his shoulder.

"You know," he starts after a moment of silence, with a voice a little bit rough on the edges. You open your eyes and move your head a little bit to look at him once more. Cold fingers start to play with the strands of your hair. "If someone had told me that I would want to kiss someone from the future who trespassed my mind, I think I would kill them," Arthur breathlessly laughing and-

"Sol, you're unbelievable." You smack his shoulder and move to get out from his grip, but Nightingale presses you even more into himself, and you feel how his laughter starts to seep through your bones.

"You're stuck with me now. No refunds, sweets." Arthur pressed a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, and... you hug him, closing your eyes back.

The Harbinger of Joy, Mathilda, smiles for the first time in what feels like eternity.

[icebrooding]

I adore Cerus, he's a fun villain and was such a powerful threat to even Isgarren. But I think there is an underlying layer of tragedy that comes with his character.

Cerus admired Febe ("Oh, he was the best of us.") long, long after the man's death, and in spite of the fact that anyone aligned with Eparch and his beliefs would view Febe as a traitor. He believed in their autonomy; was an idol to it. Why would Cerus idolise someone so divorced from what his beliefs should be?

Eparch raised Cerus and Deimos both, instilling this violent and cruel nature that is not an inherent trait of kryptis. And Eparch favoured Deimos enough that Cerus developed feelings of inferiority; desperation to match up to Deimos in Eparch's eyes. He is the one stuck between his prized brother and his spoiled sister. While Peitha describes him as having no reservation, it's entirely possible that he was trying to assert himself, being the seemingly overlooked one of his siblings.

Maybe Febe was kind to him. Febe, who was gentle and careful and believed in autonomy. Freedom. He went against what Eparch wanted from the kryptis, and maybe, just maybe, that spoke to a young Cerus who was resentful that Eparch would look any which way but at him.

Cerus would look up to Febe and find he didn't have to compete with Deimos or Peitha to be noticed for once.

And why do I think this is what Febe's relationship was to Cerus? Because of the way Febe died.

Cerus was there with Eparch when Deimos killed Febe in the temple that would be named after him. But why? We know Eparch has a sadistic streak for watching people suffer, but why take Cerus there too?

Unless Eparch was afraid that Cerus had started to drift from his control and towards Febe, and he had to stamp out that possibility in a way he knew would stick. By having Cerus watch his idol be slain in front of him while he could do nothing to intervene, all at the hands of the brother he could, would, never be able to live up to.

"That's what happens when you fight back."

Maybe that's why he did the same to Isgarren all those years later; letting him go for the briefest moments to have to witness Mabon's death with full clarity, but with no way to prevent it. Breaking Isgarren the same way Eparch broke him.

And after that, there is nowhere to go. He pushed those thoughts away of what Febe inspired in him, and Eparch helped. Succumbing to Eparch's grip on him because there is no other choice now. And as hundreds of years pass, he grows to like it. He thrives in the brutality and does what he is ordered to.

But he never forgets his admiration, despite it all. And he still never matches up to Deimos, no matter how hard he tries.

It is even faintly implied that his own mate, Heitor, yearned for Deimos before him. Deimos was once the 'young glaive of House Nephus', implying that 'glaive' may have been a title that Cerus only gained upon his brother's disappearance or death. And through Kanaxai's own words, long before either of them left for Tyria: 'Earlier, the Glaive's hands clasp my shoulders. Prideful. Assuring. Heitor's envy, sumptuous.'

Even up until his dying breath, Cerus never compares to his brother.

And he could have. He could have had it all, presenting Isgarren to Eparch and finally receiving the validation that he was as good as his brother. If not for Peitha.

He would have achieved his dream, if only she hadn't stepped in.

But instead he lost his life, body broken with the aid of his sister like his mind had been broken with the aid of his brother all that time ago in the very same temple devoted to the man he'd idolised.

(This is not a Peitha hate post, I love she)

[mysticstarlightduck]

WIP Questionnaire Tag

Thanks for the tag @diabolical-blue (here)!

I'll go with Supernova Initiative for this one!

1. What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

I had wanted to write a science fiction/space opera story for years now! I've always been a huge fan of Star Wars and similar series, and I've always wanted to write something similar! I guess that the actual first part of this WIP I've ever created was the setting - it has remained the same/similar from the first iteration of an idea of this story, while the main characters, title, and plot underwent many, many changes until it all got to the version I'm currently writing!

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Curiously enough, the Supernova Initiative book series is going to be more akin to a "TV Show" format - like Clone Wars, The Last of Us, or Game of Thrones - than a traditional novel format. That's a bit complicated to explain further, but the gist of it is - the chapters are going to be the "episodes", which in turn will be divided into acts/seasons that take place in specific time frames, with the first (5 episode/chapter) taking place 10 years before the main story!

If I had to choose, I would say that the theme song would be a rather energetic rock/pop song! With a similar vibe to these:

(Check out the full WIP playlist)

I'm Dangerous - The Everlove

Shame! Shame! Shame! - Reinaeiry

Let's Do This - Outskrts

El Dorado - Stellar

Anti-Gravity - Runaground

I think that the song would need to have this rebellious/badass energy, mixed with a generally fun beat and good lyrics that touch on the overall theme/plot of the series! Plus a generally youthful vibe!

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

I really love most of the main cast from this WIP!!!! But my Top 3 definitely are Jack Tithus, Gabi Ophyria, and Deimos Soll!

Jack is a really sweet, kind, and slightly reckless guy, who is at the same time outgoing, extroverted, and funny when he wants to be. He is defiant towards authority and fiercely protective of those he loves, to a dangerously selfless degree, all of which are tropes/traits I really enjoy in characters.

(Plus, in a way, Jack is one of the characters that kind of holds a condensation of some of my own personality traits, in good and bad ways - which was something accidental at first, but which I then embraced. )

Gabi Ophyria was one of the characters that came to me a bit later during the plotting of this book, which was surprisingly clear to me from the get-go. She's a brash, loud, fierce girl who lets no one talk her down and who believes in fighting for what she believes in. She also has anger issues - which is something she struggles with and eventually overcomes as her arc progresses, especially as she learns to let herself be vulnerable and trust others rather than try to be unbreakable all the time.

Deimos Soll is one of the most badass characters in this WIP and I just adore him. In a superficial, bad summarization, lol he's basically a young adult, alien version of John Wick and honestly is one of my all-time favorite characters I've ever written. He starts out in the backstory chapters as an awkward, fearful teenager lost in a moon he knew nothing about, but eventually grows into the deadliest and most efficient sniper this galaxy has ever seen, and one of the biggest threats to the Junction. I just adore writing introverted badass/morally grey characters who have a heart of gold. One of my favorite tropes!

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

Definitely other space opera/sci-fi adventures like Star Wars, Star Trek, or Voltron! Those stories introduced me to the space opera science fiction genre which I love so dearly, so I think that pretty much anyone who likes that genre will probably like one of those movies lol. I also think that my future fanbase might also like Six of Crows or the Bad Guys (the DreamWorks movie), as the "found family of misfits working on a heist" trope is a pretty big trope in the first acts of this WIP as well!

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

I think the hardest part about this WIP is that its structure is something I haven't seen before - as in, it's essentially a "TV Show but make it a Book Series" at its core. That means I have to improvise a lot with how I structure the story's chapters and how I structure all the events of the story. One good thing about this format I'm trying to recreate is that it is really visual, and I'm a really visual writer/person, so that means I get to make a really vivid world and characters!

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

There are! A lot of them actually. Since this is a science fiction/spare opera adventure, a lot of the story involves the main characters traveling from planet to planet, especially during their heist mission and after the plot progresses.

They visit all kinds of planets and thus all kinds of biomes - the dusty mining moons like Cethea III, giant winter desert planets like Ivion, or flourishing forest dwarf planets like Stryxus. Cethea III - the homeworld of the MCs in the backstory chapters - is known for giant elk-like oxen that roams the dusty wasteland, as well as smaller lizard creatures and a few strange, venomous mammals. They also have giant birds, known as Harpies, which have a powerful screech capable of blowing out one's eardrums when too close.

Ivion is a gigantic winter desert, home to equally gigantic winter creatures, ranging from two-headed mountain lynx to absolutely enormous dragon-like creatures that burrow underneath the blanket of ice. It is also known for famously adorable, three-eyed, surprisingly big rodents similar to lemmings, which live in packs.

Stryxus has a biome akin to that of a tropical rainforest, which means the wildlife within it is incredibly varied despite the planet's small size, and that it has a vast variety of insects, mammals, lizards, and all kinds of animals you would expect from that environment. And even some you wouldn't expect.

The oceanic depths of Thallassen, in the heart of the Khosmonian galaxies, host especially gargantuan creatures, from pacific whale-like creatures with four, giant glowing eyes, to monstrous predatory lamprey-like creatures that lurk in the water.

7. How do your characters travel/get around?

The main form of transportation between planets, settlements and galaxies are starships/spaceships of varying shapes, sizes and fuel capabilities. Each planet has its own varied form of in-land transportation, but ranging from different animal mounts, hoverbikes, bullet trains, specialized boats/ships, submarines, and/or especially flying cars in the big cities.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I'm currently writing the first draft of this WIP, and am around the third or fourth chapter of the Prologue Act (which consists of five chapters, or episodes). I already have an alpha reader (@sarandipitywrites) who is helping me a lot with ironing out the details of this story! I'm really happy about the progress I'm finally being able to make!

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) You think will draw your audience in?

General tropes: Found Family, Heists, Space Exploration, Whump (especially Lab Whump), rebelling against the system, Dystopian Utopia, Secret bioengineering scheme (as the main threat from the villains), loveable cyborgs/robots, etc!

For romance: Friends to Lovers, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Grumpy/Sunshine, etc

Familial/Friendship Tropes: Wholesome father-daughter duo (who are a former assassin and his feisty adoptive daughter), Protective Older Brother & Willful Younger Sister, Adoptive Siblings, general group of misfits fighting against an oppressive government, etc.

For more tropes & details, check out the WIP Intro!

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

I hope I'll be able to finally finish the first draft of this story this year and that I'll publish it (probably self-publishing or something similar!) in the near future! I generally also hope to have a lot of fun writing it, and that other people will have fun reading this too (especially my friends)!

Tagging (gently) @your-absent-father @ray-writes-n-shit @drchenquill, @saltysupercomputer @agirlandherquill

@sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart @sm-writes-chaos

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@the-golden-comet, @elshells

And OPEN TAG

[taylorannnx]

I need to gush about my upcoming game

[Alt text: A graphic with floral corner borders in the bottom left and top right corners with Chefs de Partie written in the center. Above the title reads hashtag Chefs de Partie. Below the title reads served on January 24th 2024 only at DriveThruRPG.]

Chefs de Partie is a co-op minigame for your ongoing RPG campaign that runs on Iron Core. Gather your party and cook a meal together, narrating your successes and failures with either heavenly or disastrous results.

This one page game includes the core rules (written by me) and six recipes that demonstrate how the game interacts with four different systems: D&D 5e, Blades in the Daek, Fate Core, snd Lasers & Feelings. The recipes are written by some of TTRPGs rising stars (literally my dream team!!!):

Austin Taylor, of Secret Mysteries of Nerd Histories fame whose game design you'll have seen in Deimos Academy and Til the Last Gasp

Basil Wright, a Storytelling Collective 2023 Creative Laurette and game designer of Pelegos

Danny Quach, author of Digital THICCNESS, AP superstar, and Roll20 angel

DT 'Honey' Saint, whose food based TTRPG contributions I've admired since she DMed Spice of Life at Roll20 Con three years ago, and whose charity work "Honeybunches of Hope" is incredible

Erin Roberts, a game design role model of mine whose name you may know from Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel

Poorna M, one have of Weave Games, who recently made one of my all time favourite games, a Christmas rom com duet called Love is on the Cards with her design partner Armaan Babu

As if that wasn't enough, we've got the one and only Nala J Wu on graphic design (they have perfectly brought to life my vision of a restaurant menu for the layout) and Marielle Ko from Tales of Sina Una as our editor!

Biggest one page RPG? Maybe (it's A2 dimensions)

Most designers on a one page RPG? Possibly

But cooking is best done with friends and I've implemented that philosophy throughout the creation process. I'm so freaking hyped to bring the world this game (the recipes range from brioche cinnamon rolls to podi masala dosa) because the dish descriptions are something incredible!

My hope is that we reach 51 sales* in the first month. With royalty split and $3.95 per sale, my writers should make $0.10 a word if we reach our target goal. I've priced this so everyone gets paid fairly.

*at full price. There will be options in the game description to buy the game for 50% or 100% off because games shouldn't be gatekept by disposable income.

This game is a little silly downtime activity and I love every contribution with my whole heart. I'm so excited for it to release next month and I hope you consider buying it if you can!

[thecertifiedboykisser]

Mydei.. this beautiful, beautiful man.. what is his deal.

(As before, I have seen no story leaks for this man. Only the vague chrysios heirs are imperfect and that's he immortal but idk if that's confirmed)

This is a longer one, bear with me pls

Unlike the other chrysios heirs that have released, his name doesn't have a direct translation/is related to someone or something in Greek mythos. Tribios and aglaea both have a translation, (from what i could find) Tribios roughly means a a well wore path (fitting with her messenger status and relation to Hermes) and aglaea is a straight up goddesses name.

But for the life of me, I could not find a translation for his name. At least not the full name. Even Mydeimos has nothing, but dei and deimos have some translations.

Starting off with the easer one, 'Dei' means god or deity in Latin, that's easy, but Deimos has a god attached to it! Deimos is one of the sons of ares and aphrodite, along with his brotho phobos, they represent the fear before going into battle. There are also the names of the moons that surround Mars.

(More information below)

Now, his lion aspects also come into play with his relationship to Deimos, as deimos and phobos were portraited with lion aspects/features.

As shown in the image above, in the first trailer introducing the Chrysos heirs, Mydeimos is shown with a line in this like red smoke around him, shown below,

It even says make him roar.

So, what does this all imply? Well, he holds the core flame of strife, and the literally definitely of strife is, "angry or bitter disagreement over fundamental issues; conflict." And the latter part if his name is representive of the fear right before battle, and the fear of loss.

Now, the first part of his name, my, it genuinely has no translations, to Greek or Latin that match, it literally just My in English. It was probably just added to make it sound different from just the gods name, idk.

Now, I can't really make much else with this, as we don't know much about the coreflames and there's no in game text I can pull from and only so much of this is based in real mythos (and i refuse to play honkai impact)

Moving away from the translations and etymology of his name, to the fact that he's one. The last prince. And two. Called two different names,

"I am the crown prince of Kremnos, 'Mydeimos, and also the warrior of Okhema, 'Mydei." If you want to know me better, observe me in battle, or fight me yourself." The exact quote from his splash art. So, let's get into it.

He calls himself the longer name (Deimos) when referring to his royal lineage, which i will talk about here in a moment, and the shorter one (Dei) when talking about him being a warrior.

And with the etymology (that's right, I know big words B} ) it seems like he's calling himself the son of the titan of strife, Nikodor. Which is probably his family's patron titan, or just the titan of kremnos.

<side rant. In the new trailer, they refer to the titans exclusively as them, i wonder if it's like they haven't hand contact with the outside in so long they have there own "aeons", the titans, or they view them as one in the same>

Now, when he is calling himself Mydei, it's more like he's referring to himself as the God. Deimos, son of the god of strife, or dei, the god himself. Also, it's sort of a glory thing as well, as he's being portrayed as a god or on the level as the gods as he is probably a really good warrior.

Now I'm also gonna take this chance to talk about kremnos and what that means! Kremnos means, precipice, hanging over a wall or bank, as shown below

Castrum means a roman fortress, so Castrum Kremnos literally means fortress[es] precipice, most likely relating to the fact that it seems that it is on the verge of crumbling with all the patricide that happens (killing ur dad, big no no in Greek times)

"Kremnos, swallowed by mist! City riven between chaos and war! The blood of patricide flows through its royal line, and its god bears the title of calamity."

Another quote from his splash art, what i find interesting here, is the title of calamity line, I'd assume that relates to the titan being one that guards calamitys gate. The mist most likely relates to the black tide that took the titans. City riven between chaos and blood, between. It sits on the precipice, the feelings of fear that come right before the battle. (IT ALL COMES BACK TOGETHER BBY!!)

The bottom, where it shows what city there from and what Titan is interesting here. Because with the titans name it says "Nikodor..?" Like it's unsure. Now I have no fucking clue what this means due to the lack of info. Nikodor has no exact translation, the closes i found was nikodem(?) That means victory to the people. Which could explain it. It's not sure of the victory, but i am gen clueless on this part.

And finally, my fav part, analyzing his splash art:)

So, this looks insane but I'll explain.

All the yellow is stuff we've seen before and the dude in the bg with pink aswell on phanton and ratio (that's right he's back)

The belt with the emblem, the fabric either under it or over it, but generally covering the outer thighs, and in ratio and mydeis case, going up to there back and clasping to there shoulder with some emblem, same as belt, most likely a family crest.

The stuff circled in pink are blue gems, a stark contrast to the warm tones all over his design. Blue is also often related to feelings of loss and fear. (Also, the god damn spirals on the arm cuff) Nikodor seems to be colored blue and white, so I also could be a nod to that, especially since blue seems to be a big color here.

The markings almost look like flames, and with the plate on his knee and his emblems looking like suns, I almost wondered if instead of him have corliations to ares he has ties with Apollo, especially since Apollo is the god of prophesy, and yknow, fear before the war, seeing into the future, that kinda stuff

What i mean with the symbols. The blue one is on his gold jewelry on his back, and the pink one is behind his name. Translation in alt text

He's holding a tattered red flag, in general it means, a warning or no mercy given, fitting for a place driven by war, and it being tattered also shows that it's probably been through alot.

He also looks like he's stepping in a puddle of blood, probably of his fallen comrades, the men are all around him, defending themselves and such, like he's leading them. The sun is behind him (you can tell from the light on the 'blood') like he's looking into the darkness, of war.

TLDR: mydei has alot of ties to fear, war, sitting in the precipice and general uncertainty. I'm defo pulling for him, and I'm so excited for 3.0 and beyond!!

[semperintrepida]

FTH Fic Progress: A Working Title

I've never been the kind of writer with a docs folder full of "Untitled", "Untitled (1)", "Untitled (2)". At the very least, I need a working title, something short and snappy that embodies the concept I'm writing towards.

My novel "The Breaking" had a working title of "Kyklos"—and to be honest, I actually prefer that one to the final title it ended up with.* In ancient Greek, kyklos means cycle or circle, appropriate for a book full of cycles: of violence and abuse, of vengeance, of agriculture and the seasons, of the structure of the narrative... By choosing a working title, I'm stamping it on my draft document as the first thing I see. It's the name of the file and the first line in the text. It grounds me and my intentions for the work.

For this FTH fic, the first word that came to mind was "familiar," as in "evil's familiar face." But it didn't thrill me, even though it adequately described the premise of this story: canon!Kassandra (the "hero") coming face-to-face with her evil AU counterpart, Deimos Kassandra.

So I pulled up my handy dandy Onelook.com, and a dictionary, and wiktionary and started peering down etymological rabbit holes related to the concepts of mirrors and opposites, because that's where my head was at at the time. And after a while I stumbled across "antithesis." That's a good Greek word!

But it still didn't feel right.

I gave it more thought, and eventually, I realized I was approaching this story all wrong: Kassandra and Deimos aren't opposites—they're two faces of the same being.

After that epiphany, the word "resemblance" immediately came to mind, which led to the phrase "states of resemblance." We have a winner!

"States of Resemblance." Is that going to be the final title? I have no idea. I've been known to kick working titles to the curb whenever something better comes along. But I like this one for now.

Next time, we'll talk about first sentences.

More to come!

~~

* Unfortunately, the most common definition of "kyklos" in English has shifted to mean "the cycle of governments in a society" and that's the first thing that pops up in a google search for the word. Since that definition's not what I intended, I changed the final title because I didn't want readers to get confused.

[cheese-ducks]

Lord Phobos lore headcanons

His culture doesn't have last names, so his full title is Lord Phobos of Mars (yes, that Mars)

His father's name is Ariars(mix of Ares and Mars), his mother's name is Venera (Venus in Russian), and his twin brother's name is Deimos

He hated royal training and often skipped classes to teach himself guitar

Despite no one thinking he was qualified, he was next in line for the throne (It drove Deimos crazy)

He used sign language and a text to speech voice to communicate during the vow of silence. The text to speech voice was later implanted in his vocal cords (it's the Phobos voice we know today)

He has a close bond with Meouch mostly because he was the first person he ever met that actually liked music. He felt seen and like there was nothing wrong with him. He nearly fainted when Meouch complimented his guitar solos.

He asked Sung to give him human colored hands and to put his text to speech voice in his vocal cords, which took more cybernetics than Sung thought. 

The cybernetics messed up his memories which led him to believe he was a fully robotic replica of 'Phobos 1'

This led to the drastic change in personality we see between Phobos 1 and Phobos 2 (the sleeping, the lack of inhibition, the sarcasm, the dumbassness)

With the help of his band mates he eventually regained his memories but continued to go by Phobos 2 and Phibbis because he thought the whole ordeal was funny in retrospect

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics:

Batman and Robin #4: I see we are having yet another flashback to Damian's Terrible Childhood (TM). Also narrowing my eyes at Kirk here. Apparently we are back in our Man-Bat being morally ambiguous era (when will my son, Aaron Langstrom, return from the pit on non-existence??)

Look I don't care what reason Williamson comes up with to convince Damian to go to school I'm just happy to see him attending school! He needs it!

Outsiders #2: I still so very much wish they'd used a different title for this comic. Anyway, underwater submersible adventures! Someone had fun reading all the ways the Titan could have been built better, I think.

Speed Force #2: this remains cute and devoted to fun and continuity (aside from the tragic continued squishing of generations together).

Wesley Dodds: The Sandman #3: I think having this as my introductory Riley Rossmo comic is going really well, as I do actually love the dynamism of the art in how this story is told. Also Tom Napolitano as letterer is doing a BUNCH of work even if there's no hand lettering. It's appreciated! Oh the story? I'm enjoying it. I'm reasonably light on JSA knowledge so I'm just enjoying the ride here.

Action Comics #1060: Etrigan! *kicky feet* Also I really do enjoy Otho-Ra. The B and C plots here are both event stories, if I read this right? Events I'm not reading yet.

World’s Finest Teen Titans #6: I love everyone at this bar. I love Roy and Ollie having a moment. I love Wally threatening to start using trick arrows (to Roy’s outrage). I love Garth breaking my heart and Donna comforting him. I love Karen and Mal being adorable together.

And I love Dick’s speech.

You killed once, you’ll do it again. ... But this ‘end always justifies the means’ crap is your Achilles heel.

Love your work, Dick Grayson.

The Warlord #30: This week in Skartaris the Theran Army is invading Shamballah! But Travis is delayed in telling anyone as he has to fight a leopard in a tree! Then his horse has run off and he swims through a bog, where he gets eaten by a marine dinosaur (he escapes via the power of being The Warlord and stabbing his sword through the dino while in its stomach).

Anyway Travis starts swinging between trees in his race to warn Shamballah, when the tree he's in falls down because a forester cut it down. He convinces the forester to help him spread the warning (though the forester is worried about his family nearby)

They warn the villages, get back together, the Therans are coming, Travis blocks a narrow bridge, and the forester runs back to warn his family...including his very familiar son!

HELLO JOSHUA! I SUSPECT YOU ARE THE REAL JOSHUA AND NOT THE CLONE EVEN THOUGH THE STORY TRIED TO TELL ME YOU WERE THE CLONE. (Having read wikis I also know this is true, but it was also...obvious. From the writing)

Look! Joshua even has his watch armband so there is no way you can confuse him for any other red headed child called Joshua. (Also...great job there Deimos and Deimos' minions, hiding Joshua...right under Tara's nose literally in the surrounding forest of Shamballah. Truly a difficult place to find him).

Oh so we are FULL retconning the 'that's the clone' theory now are we? I mean it was bullshit from the start but you know.

Anyway the forester then tries to save Travis in his final stand by sending a logjam of logs down the stream to knock out Travis' opponents! And there we leave it.

Honestly I don't know why I bother to read any comic that is not The Warlord, it's the greatest. Even though Mike Grell didn't draw any bondage this week.

[picathartidae]

okay so i have to ask about The Favored Ones (because unfortunately at first i misread it as The Flavored Ones and um now i can't not think about that 😅)

Alright, more of my unhinged homebrew setting D&D stories! This will probably also be an overly long and meandering answer.

The Flavoured Ones sounds very fun, but sadly this story is full of angst and trauma and sadness, because it revolves around an evil cult (as a lot of D&D campaigns seem to).

Said cult is called "Auvrael Olo" in-universe, which roughly translates to "favoured ones" in the yuan-ti language, and this is yuan-ti cult. I have massively rewritten the yuan-ti into a subrace/ethnicity of humans, rather than their own thing, because ideas were had and I had spiralled out of control by this point. And thus, the title.

It actually started life as a fanfic for AC Odyssey, which is kind of embarrassing, but it's been slowly developing into its own thing, and now works better in my setting than it does in Assassin's Creed. If you're familiar with that game, then I'll explain it by saying it's basically about the character of Deimos (Alexios) trying to find himself after a good ending situation, and readjust to life after being raised as the Chosen One of a cult before getting dragged out of it kicking and screaming.

In my setting, gods can only directly interact with the Material Plane if they take on mortal form (this is a recurring motif with me). The gods of the yuan-ti (my versions of Mystra and Cyric, they're very different here than in the Forgotten Realms, basically only have the name in common) do this, by incarnating into human form every generation -- these mortal incarnations are called the Shahmaran (in the case of Mystra) and the Nehushtan (in the case of Cyric).

The protagonist, a guy called Alexander Fiennes (nicknamed Sasko), is the Nehushtan, and he's essentially trying to find himself and work out how to be a normal fucking person while also reconciling with his trauma and the inescapable conclusion that he is literally a god in mortal form. And he struggles with morality because Cyric is generally considered an "evil" god.

Consequently, he's a target of various different groups of people for various different reasons, and his efforts to have a normal life with his wife and son are constantly derailed in spectacular fashion.

In terms of a snippet, I have this dialogue he has with his wife (not long after they first met, before they got married)

“You got out. You realised the truth, and you got out. That’s what matters.” He laughed bitterly and turned away, unable to stand even looking at her as the shame rose. “Not without a lot of help.” There was silence for a moment. Then two. And then; “From what you’ve told me, you were in deep," Aminah insisted softly, reaching out and placing her hand over his. "Deeper than most can hope to come back from. Anyone would have needed help, in your position. It’s not something to be ashamed of.” A shiver ran up Sasko's spine at her touch, though he could never quite bring himself to pull away. “You don’t understand," he insisted. "Auvrael Olo, they- they were everything to me. When they told me what I was and what I had to be, I believed them. I bought the whole story. They didn’t turn me into a monster so much as I let them.” “Alexander.” He didn't look at her. He couldn't. “Alexander," she called again, squeezing his hand as he finally brought himself to meet her gaze. "Listen to me very carefully. You. Were. A. Child. You were a child, and they were all you knew. What happened was done to you. You didn’t let them do anything.” He wasn't entirely sure he deserved that. Not after everything. But it must have shown in his face then, because Aminah's brow furrowed, and she seemed to grow all the more determined to make him understand. “The first thing you did once your decisions were your own to make was try to help people," she reminded him, her voice ever so soft and her tone ever so gentle. "I think that says far more about you than anything you did while under a cult’s control.”

I even made Sasko as one of my Dark Urges in BG3 (former insane cultist connected to an evil god, so he fit the vibe), as well, so I even have screenshots for you! (I also made his wife, and had him be her dream visitor, because of course I did)

[e1dritchqueer]

1, 2, 3, for Callisto! :D

1. What is your ocs full name? Does this name have any special meaning/history? Callisto Noa! For meaning, it's kinda twofold. Callisto the moon/greek myth dosen't exist in the setting of the UNITYxEclipse game as we thought it'd be interesting if "earth" wasn't... our Earth with all the same things (This was espcieally apparent when devolping the Chorus (a space theocracy about mechs being seen as gods among other things)) however spacey names/names of celestial bodies are really cool and it's a great scource of sci fi names (especially named geographic features of planets). I largely chose it because I thought it sounded cool and fit the character I had in my mind. To Callisto herself though, it's incredibly important. It's a name she chose and is very important to her because it's hers. Callisto is a character who at the current moment, is filled with feelings of inadequecy and feel like she doesn't deserve/is worthy of anything, so she often doesn't allow herself those things. However, her name is one of the few things that she sees as hers, despite it all, She's still Callisto. And that idea of names/identity is something I want to play around with alot, especially with regards to the stuff with her nickname/callsign!!

Also one short note, I chose her last name "Noa" from the Mobile Suit Gundam Character Bright Noa, mainly bc it sounded cool and I love how Tomino does sci fi names

2. Does your oc have any nicknames? How did they get these nicknames? The only thing close to a nickname she has at the moment is Wraith, her callsign. And oh do I have a lot of thoughts about it. A big part of Callisto is the fact that she is inhabiting a facade and that nickname is very much part of it. The thing is, the "Wraith" is an Ascencian (space fascists) pilot named Argyre Zephra Solis and his mech the Wraith of Deimos (it has a loonger title of it's "acchivements" bc well it's a fascist weapon of war), a feared name and part of one of the most powerful Leviathan (a leviathan is their name for like... the in world equivalent of an Eva/Gundam) squads on the Unity Ring. "Wriath" is a "war hero" and big symbol for the Ascencians + their war effort. "Wraith" is what Callisto has been running from; the war, empire, fascisim. The other thing is, the Wraith is dead. Argyre died in the assult Callisto was conscripted in. Callisto hid in the mech's bloodied cockpit to stay safe. The next time she opens her eyes she is the only mech standing in a quiet battlefield. And her hands were gripping the controls The Ascencians/Argyre's Squad open the cockpit and find someone who is def not Argye, and she's imprisoned.

The thing is, according to like... Ascencian rehetoric about the bond between a Pilot and a Leviathan, this should be impossible. To them, (something we established in worldbuilding is none of the factions have a correct idea of what a pilot's bond with their mech is) pilots are like... "chess kids"/newtypes, and Callisto is not one of them and the public knowledge of that would be catastrophic to their rhetoric. However the process of finding a Pilot compatable with a Leviathan is hard, it's not something you can force (but oh have they tried), the knowledge Argyre died in some conflict he should have won is also an unpleasent pill to swallow, so what do the Ascencians do? They make Callisto the Wraith. Till they find a real replacement, Callisto inahbits the facade of this symbol of war, a symbol she has tried running from but can't. This idea of The Wraith being tied to Callisto is something I'm trying to explore through play, even free, having espaped, she still can't change the callsign somehow, she's still bonded to the Wraith of Deimos (a Ascencian symbol), and both of them are still a knife of war. It's something she (and Deimos) despratley want to escape. Ideas of like... subverting/destroying/transforming symbols/fighting against fascist rhetoric and the ideas is something that I've been very much wanting to explore with this character. I feel like a big part of Callisto's journey is slowly becoming someone who can have agency with her identity again rather than being someone who's identity/worth (being seen as a weapon to be used, the wraith, a knife, a dog of war, etc.) deterimed by others.

Sorry, that was a REALLY long explanation for that one nickname lmao. I just have A LOT of thoughts about what Callisto being the Wraith means

3. How old is your oc? She's in her earlyish 20s! I feel around 24 or something.

OC Ask Game- The Baiscs

[secretsinthevoid]

Blue - Misty, Green - Elara, Red- Raven

🌫️- How many people are in your system? 25

🌊- What's everyone's favorite colors? Various shades of blues, purples, pinks, greens, red, black, silver/grey, Orange

☂️- Most common fronters? Normally- Elara, Atlas, Mouse and Jupiter (occassionally). Recently- Elara, Raven, and Misty (me)

☔- Collective pronouns? We each have our own but They/them works

💦- Everyone's pronouns? Mainly She/her, He/him, They/them, it/its. and We have a few that use Fae/Faers, and Xe/Xir. Pluto accepts all.

💧- Most common age group? Ageless. They chose not to list their age since its most likely over 100, they don't age, or age differently.

💨- Do you have any fictives? Not that we know of.

❄️- Are there any romantic relationships in your system? Celeste and Deimos are the main "couple", though most of our relationships are platonic with one another unless stated otherwise.

🌧️- Does anyone have a favorite number? 13 for Friday the 13th.

☁️- Are any of your alters neurodivergent? All of us.

🌤️- How many people are LGBTQIA+? All of us Identify as Queer

☀️- Do you have any non-human alters (including hybrids)? most of us are. there's only 7 humans in our system.

🌈- What are some common hobbies? Video Games, binging movies/tv shows, and reading.

🌪️- What is the most liked food between everyone? Pasta, fries, chocolate, and cheese burgers.

🔥- Current hyperfixations? In between right now

☄️- Do you guys have any collective interests? Just to name a few Anime, Music, Movies/Tv shows, Space and the Ocean

⚡- What is your headspace like? (If you have one) For the most part we each have our own room/area that's decorated/designed by us to fit our own needs that we either stay in until needed/bored, or use for vacation (aka dormancy). We have a main room that's open for everyone within the system. Very basic lounge/living room; Fireplace, a chest full of extra blankets and pillows, couple of couches, a beanbag, a bookshelf, and some plants.

✨- Does anyone have a pet? Not in headspace. We do own two cats

⭐- Does your system have a name? Cosmic Garden System

💫- Does anyone wanna share something about their source? Feel free to ramble, anyone can answer too! -----

🪐- Most chaotic group? Celeste and Raven at any given time, especially when the pickle war restarts. Sometimes the littles get a bit rowdy when they're all together.

🌎- Any demon/angel/god alters? We have two. they're twins. Jupiter and Saturn. Celeste is mainly a demon so we'll add her as well.

🌙- Who is the oldest? I think Cosmo but no one wants to claim the title of the oldest.

🌓- What type of system are you? Quiogenic

🌗- (For traumagenic systems only) Are you diagnosed? If yes, was getting one difficult? If not, do you want one & why or why not? No, it wouldn't change how we live our life.

🌕- What is your system dynamic (ex, family, friends, complete strangers, etc) Everyone has their own relationship with one another so some are closer than others. We have some family members, for the most part we'd say friends and/or acquaintance's.

🌻- What's a normal day for you as a system? Wake up, get the little one ready for school, take them to school, then we just kind of play games, catch up on tv shows or reading, scroll tumblr or Pinterest until we have to get the little one. It varies from day to day as sometimes we take the time while Little one is at school to clean or we have dr appts.

🌸- How do you keep track of your system? (Members, switches, etc) Simply Plural and Google Docs.

🥀- Any childhood things that should've tipped you off to being a system? A few. Yeah

💐- Do you like being a system? Yes

🐚- Do you know any systems IRL? No

🍄- Do you prefer in-system dating or out-of-system dating? No preference.

🍁- What's the most annoying thing about being a system? The others would say not being able to have certain aspects/features of themselves (wings, tails, claws, fangs, etc...) but, I think it's not being able to do everything I want within the day.

🎍- How bad is your amnesia? Varies on who's fronting or close to front and the kind of day we've had. Our memory isn't the greatest as is.

🌿- Best quote from an alter? There have been so many but there needs to be context for some since a lot are inside jokes. I think my favorite is "Define yourself by what you feel, are, and do rather than what someone else wants of you." by Mother (Jupiter).

🌳- Do alters have separate accounts for games or do you all share an account? We share so our game library has a mix of cozy, puzzle/strategy, FPS (First Person Shooter), and the SIms 4

-Misty, Elara, and Raven

🌫️- How many people are in your system

🌊- What's everyone's favorite colors?

☂️- Most common fronters?

☔- Collective pronouns?

💦- Everyone's pronouns?

💧- Most common age group?

💨- Do you have any fictives?

❄️- Are there any romantic relationships in your system?

🌧️- Does anyone have a favorite number?

☁️- Are any of your alters neurodivergent?

🌤️- How many people are LGBTQIA+

☀️- Do you have any non-human alters (including hybrids)?

🌈- What are some common hobbies?

🌪️- What is the most liked food between everyone?

🔥- Current hyperfixations?

☄️- Do you guys have any collective interests?

⚡- What is your headspace like? (If you have one)

✨- Does anyone have a pet?

⭐- Does your system have a name?

💫- Does anyone wanna share something about their source? Feel free to ramble, anyone can answer too!

🪐- Most chaotic group?

🌎- Any demon/angel/god alters?

🌙- Who is the oldest?

🌓- What type of system are you?

🌗- (For traumagenic systems only) Are you diagnosed? If yes, was getting one difficult? If not, do you want one & why or why not?

🌕- What is your system dynamic (ex, family, friends, complete strangers, etc)

🌻- What's a normal day for you as a system?

🌸- How do you keep track of your system? (Members, switches, etc)

🥀- Any childhood things that should've tipped you off to being a system?

💐- Do you like being a system?

🐚- Do you know any systems IRL?

🍄- Do you prefer in-system dating or out-of-system dating?

🍁- What's the most annoying thing about being a system?

🎍- How bad is your amnesia?

🌿- Best quote from an alter?

🌳- Do alters have separate accounts for games or do you all share an account?

A free to use ask game for systems!

Anti Endo, anti other origin systems, DNI with this post

[bikelock28]

10 & 15 please?

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Many of the reviews for An Autumn say how they dislike Sirius in that fic. This surprised me because I thought I think his actions are understandable- also he's like 13! If the audience consistently feed back something you weren't expecting or aiming for, that's probably your writing not doing what you want it to. But when I tried to edit that fic there wasn't anything I wanted to change.

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

Lol, someone asked me this on Ao3 and my chaos was truly revealed. Here is the answer I wrote there:

I find titles tricky and cringey to come up with. I don't particularly enjoy it and usually leave it until last.

This fic is called Pluto because the original (since-deleted) Chapter 1 was saved on my laptop was LupTo, as in LupinTonks. I realised it was an anagram of Pluto and thought that was a cool title. It's not an intentional metaphor for distance/ loneliness, but you can read that into it if you want.

- This chapter's title was Sticky Wicket, which is an British idiom (possibly also in other English-speaking countries, I dunno) meaning a tight spot/difficult situation/a Catch-22. Which is obviously what's happening in the chapter, and I thought it would be more fun, weird and interesting to swap the first letters. - Sardines For Dinner is a line from Juicy by Notorious BIG- nothing whatsoever to do with the chapter. - I don't like calling all multi-parters Part 1/2 etc, so I sometimes name them after pairs: Marmalade/Jam, Phobos/Deimos. - Strawberry Moon is the full moon in June, the one which happens in the chapter. - For the chapter with 3 points of view, I called it 180 because, like, triangles, angles, degrees, 180. #maths - Q is because, like, there's lots of questioning going on in that chapter. - Ziekenhuis is German (?) for Hospital (?) and Cabina Di Confessione is Portugese (?) for Confessional (?) - I might be misremembering those languages and translations. I found them by shoving the chapters' working titles into Google Translate and messing around until I found a translation I liked. - Glittery was because it's about excitement and attraction. - exweyezed is random. - Kips is named after the Friends episode The One With The Kips, when Chandler thinks that Monica 's breaking up with him because they have one fight, like Lupin does in the chapter.

In conclusion, the titles are all disconnected from each other. There is no pattern. As you can see, some of them relate to the chapter in some way or other, while others are completely irrelevant. Ted Talks are my favourite titles, I think that was pretty clever.

....see? Chaotic.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 2: Call Out My Name

It was not a day as any other up on the Mount Olympus, for a unrest took over the Gods, especially their leader, Zeus, who seemed to most affected by the news given by the dreadful Sisters of Fate. Their audacity truly knows no bounds and can move even the most powerful God. He was given a prophecy unlike any other - That there will be a child unlike any other before, a child born with him as a father - A child strong enough that would be able to overthrow his rule, and destroy him, and all the Pantheon living in Olympus.

Thus, something dreadful must be done. The Gods must kill a child.

As always, the selfishness of these omnipotent being did not surprise the Goddess of Nature in the least, thus, she preferred to completely dismiss these rumours and remain in her forest, taking care of the fauna and flora. She was content, having Hermes by her side, and it was a sort of peace that she had never achieved since the moment she was brought into this life. Whether it be temporary bliss or not, she was fine with it.

Until... She heard the title given to the child of the prophecy - It was not enough to know that he was a child of Zeus, for he had many, but there was more.

The Child was the Marked Warrior.

The very Marked Warrior that was destined to be her lover, some day, though his fate was severely altered by those wretches who enjoy toying with people. But there was nothing she could do, for Zeus sent Athena and Ares themselves to wreak havoc down, in Sparta, and terminate the Child's life... And what could a Healing Goddess achieve by attempting to fight against the two most renowned Gods of War? She would only become a broken shell of herself. Still, she could not abandon the poor Child, whose fate became destroyed, because of her own impatience. The Sisters were right, should she not have been so entitled and pitiful, this person would have lived a good life... And now...

Looking down at the mortal world, she could see Sparta already plunged in chaos and engulfed in flames, with Ares and Athena massacring so many innocent people, who needn't be killed, for their own vanity. Though she had always found Ares to be incredibly despicable and unlikeable, Athena was far worse. She was arrogant and selfish, and she never liked her. Worse, they were Zeus's favourite children, and it showed.

The human world now looked akin to the deepest parts of the pits of Tartarus, full of despair, everything in ruins, people either running away, shrieking in fear, or fighting, and dying at the merciless hands of those awful Gods that killed anything that they were afraid of. How very pathetic, Katrina thought, as she immediately descended towards the mortal realm and ran towards the bigger commotions, using her powers to try and put out the flames, creating blankets of grass and moss on the ground, hoping it will not be destroyed, to allow the injured to heal. Veins and plants would spurt from the greenland she'd create with each step she'd take, and they would try to hold up the shambling buildings and saving any poor soul that may have been in danger.

By the time she arrived at the fated scene, Ares and Athena had already captured the poor child, struggling and writhing to worm his way out of his grip, calling out for his brother. Kratos. The child let out a war cry and lunged at the God of War with a spear in his hand, but was ultimately swatted away with ease, like a flying pest.

"Enough, Ares! You came here to capture the child of the prophecy! That boy has nothing to do with you! Have you not wrecked enough havoc already?! Are you truly this incorrigible?!" Katrina yelled at him, running to stand protectively in front of the young boy that was now pitifully laying underneath the boards of the house he destroyed. She could hear his weak voice, calling out for his captured brother, Deimos. "Our sister is right. We have accomplished our task. Let us return, now. We still have a lot of work to do." Athena, for once, seemed to agree with her red haired sister, though she spared her no look, instead, choosing to only glare at her brother. "You see so little of what is true. Katrina, step aside, now!" though he took up his weapon in his other hand, the Goddess stood tall, her long, red hair flying around her menacingly, and her green eyes were shining like wildfire. It was not often when they would see the peaceful Goddess this angry, and for once, Ares smirked, pleased at the picture before him. He lived for this kind of rage. He could get drunk on the rage that was bubbling inside of her. "We will meet again soon, sister. And then, you will see, that my words were true." thus, the two turned around and galloped away, leaving the Goddess alone. With a sigh of relief, Katrina swiftly turned around and knelt to the ground, using vines to uplift the heavy wood fallen on the young boy, and once he was trapped no more, she reached out her arms towards him and dragged him out, holding him into a tight embrace. "Fear not, young one. I will protect you. I will not allow anything to harm you any more." her voice was so soft and soothing, that Kratos could feel his body and mind melting into her arms. "Rest now, and I shall heal your wounds. Once you wake up, should you need me again, just call out my name, and I will see to it, one way or another." it was a vow that Kratos knew, she would never break. "Train hard, and conquer everything in your path. You are destined to become the greatest warrior that Sparta ever had. You can succeed in anything you dream." though this was the prophecy for the Marked Warrior, perhaps, with him gone, his brother could take over his work. With his last bit of strength, the young boy pulled away from him, and looked into her eyes. Once he did, he found himself lost completely, and a weird sensation started surging through his veins, as if electrocuted. He couldn't understand what was going on, but he felt trapped in her emerald world, yet for some unknown reason, he had no wish of escaping. "What is your name?"

Her name was going to remain embroidered into his mind, for the rest of his life.

Katrina.

Kratos could feel his mind slipping away, and he fell unconscious in the woman's arms, as she hummed a sweet melody. His fatigueness disappeared, and he had the most restful sleep in his entire life. In honour of his brother, he got a tattoo that would resemble the birth mark he dorned on his face, and eventually, he would conquer every trial presented his way, without fail. Not once, did he call out that Goddess's name, as he wanted all of his achievements to be done by his own hand, yet with her prophecy in mind, he did strive to become the greatest and strongest there was, catching the eye of many of his peers and leaders.

Eventually, he would even fall in love with a beautiful woman that was like no other. A beautiful woman named Lysandra, that was able to calm the tides of rage that clouded his mind, and bring him the peace that he needed. She had become his safe and loving solace, and his life could only get better, once the woman became pregnant and gave birth to their sweet baby girl, Calliope.

Though Katrina could only watch with a burning ache, she only wished happiness and bliss for the happy family. Once the child was born, she even put a beautiful pink flower in her hair, and blessed her to have a successful, healthy and happy life. She even created a baby fox for the girl to play with, and to protect her, in need. Everything was going well... That is, until the dirty hands of the God of War started create misfortune for the Spartan General, and thus, created such an awful skin disease, that, given the Spartan Law, would make them forsake and kill their child, for being too weak.

For the first time, Kratos called out that name he heard when he was a mere child.

Katrina.

And she appeared before him, as he was cradling his child dearly in his arms. His face looked distraught, while his wife was trying to stay strong for both herself, and her husband. The Goddess took the child into her arms and used her powers to cure her... Yet nothing changed. Realization washed over her, and she could only sigh and look away.

"Kratos, have you ever heard of the Ambrosia fruit?" she asked, looking with pity at the small child in her arms. "Is it not said that Gods drink Ambrosia fruit every day, to remain immortal and powerful?" Lysandra asked, shock taking over her, at the mention of said fruit. "Yes, that is exactly right. This is not just a mere disease of the human realm, that I can cure with ease. This was made by a God, and can only be cured by the Gods' greatest cure there is." she explained, dreading to see the pained look on the parents' faces. "But why would the Gods want to curse our dear Calliope? What has she done wrong? Or are they trying to curse us, by harming her?" Kratos remained silent, while only his wife spoke. "They are not cursing you... They are challenging Kratos." the Goddess passed the child to her mother, who sat down on the bed, and the fox went to snuggle to her side. "Challenge... Me?" the man furrowed his brows in confusion. "Remember your childhood? Ares wanted to kill you, but I and Athena opposed. Long ago, Gods would cast plagues on great Heroes' families and villages, as motivation for them to start a quest and retrieve the Ambrosia fruit. Many Gods cursed many people dear to the Heroes just for their sick means of entertainment..." she shook her head, as a means to stop saying any more bad things. "Kratos, you must go and retrieve the Ambrosia fruit from Asclepius's Temple. It is the only way to save sweet Calliope. Here, take this. It is Apollo's Flame. It has the ability to guide you to the Temple... But bear in mind, it will not protect you from what you may encounter. Your own kin will turn against you. Barbarians, foreigners... Maybe even monsters. I do not know, yet the Gods have a sick, twisted sense of humour. You must make haste, Kratos. I can give you no guarantee as to how long she has." she explained, putting her arms on his shoulders and squeezing tightly. The Sisters of Fate truly were the most disgusting beings for allowing such foolishness to take place. "Will you stay here and protect my family?" the man asked, pained and worried for his two beloved girls. "Of course. Worry not, I will not let anyone pass the law before you return. What Ares and Athena did years ago... I am capable of doing the same, need be. Though, I hope my negotiation skills will work in my favour." she reassured, and in that instant, she was engulfed into a suffocating hug, akin to that which she offered him, during his childhood. "Thank you." he said, before releasing her. He knelt in front of his wife and kissed his child on the forehead, before he did the same to Lysandra. "I will return victorious. I will save Calliope no matter what." the display was bittersweet, and once more, Katrina internally swore to protect his family.

Through their waiting, the Goddess did various spells to keep the newborn child in good shape, as much as possible, and when the army came over to retrieve and kill the child, she retaliated, and promised to wreak havoc to Sparta , once again. The fear of Gods was greater than anything, for mortals. However, when the King himself came over, she negotiated that, should the Ambrosia juice work, he would have the last sip - Of course, what greedy king wouldn't agree to having Godly powers? Ha. Fool, Katrina thought. That sip would aid him for nothing.

Often, in her grief, Lysandra would ask the Goddess "What if he does not return? What if he gets killed during the war waged by the Gods?" she would repeat every day and every night, and the Goddess would reassure her. "Worry not, Lysandra, for Kratos would even crawl out from the pits of Tartarus, for you and sweet Calliope. Just have patience, and you will be happy again, together. All three of you." Katrina then conjured another pink flower and put it into the woman's hair, so she would match her dear daughter. After all, the Goddess was bound by an oath to the man, and could feel his life energy surging through her veins.

Thankfully, the painfully long waiting bare fruit, and Kratos returned, as promised, with the cure for his little girl. Once the little one drank the juice, the skin disease immediately vanished, and with that, so did the parents' worry. They celebrated eagerly, holding each other with so much love, while the Goddess could only watch with a smile, and a shattered heart. Though she could not be with her true beloved, at least he Marked Warrior's brother should be happy, despite the hardships.

For his success, Kratos was given the title of Spartan General and was allowed to lead the Army towards many more victories, one after another, without fail, and his legend would follow throughout the land. But that was not for long, as the new General had to fight an army of Barbarians, and he was defeated. Once he realised his life was going to be ended, just like that, he called out to the skies, striking a deal with Ares - A life of servitude, in return of destroying the Barbarian army.

Katrina could not believe her eyes once she took note of what was happening down in the mortal real - How could he be so stupid and pledge his life for such a fickle God? The Barbarian army was defeated, but what of his future? What of his family? Did he not realise how dangerous an implication that would prove?

The hoards of Barbarians were dead with a single swoop, and Kratos's life was now another's. Ares would have his arms be seared tight, with the chains tied to the Blades of Chaos. This meant the beginning of a new chapter in the General's life, as now, he had to abide to His every rule, and travel from land to land, spreading war and death... But he was not realising, he was swiftly succumbing to his rage and anger, and was losing his grip on reality. No matter what the Goddess tried, there was no taking him back. Ares's grip on him was too powerful, and only his demise would liberate the Spartan.

Not even Lysandra, or young Calliope were able to wake him up to reality, for he was too far gone. That is, until his last pillage, where he encountered an Oracle that warned him against massacring the remaining villagers from the Temple of Athena... Yet, of course, the blinded warrior heeded not her call, and went on ahead, shedding innocent blood without a single care in the world.

Until he looked down at his last two victims. Two victims, that were supposed to be back in Sparta, not there. WHY were they there? It made no sense. Was this a delusion? A fake? A nightmare? Or perhaps, he was dead, and forced to live his greatest fears?

He called out Katrina's name, begging her to save them - Perhaps they were still hanging on to a thread of life? But the forlorn expression painted on her face made it clear, there was no hope for the two. "A deal with Ares means you are his, and his alone. Anyone else is a burden, and takes away from you being his perfect warrior puppet." as he cradled his wife's lifeless body, Katrina held Calliope. "Perhaps... Being such an innocent and kind child, she will find her way towards Elysium... And be with all the other children that were taken from this world prematurely." she sighed, caressing her bloodied face. "Have have I done... Why... They were supposed to be back home..." Kratos's pitiful mourning meant nothing to the God of War. "Gods are selfish, Kratos. They never wish true happiness for mortals, unless it benefits them. You happiness was only a hindrance for him, so he took it away." she explained, though in that instance, the God's voice boomed through the ruined temple, revealing that it was him who planted his family in the village, believing that, should he kill them, his heart would harden and he would become the ultimate warrior.

She helped the man cremate their bodies, yet the Oracle was disgusted with his deed, and cursed him, to have his family's ashes bound to his skin, and would become known throughout the land, as the Ghost of Sparta, and every night from that point onwards, he would have nightmares of what he had done. Thus, the Great Spartan General was finally defeated. Driven mad, tortured and uncertain of his surroundings, the warrior found himself captured like a fly in the web of the Furies, as he tried to sever his contract with the God.

His pain, however, was far too great, and with that, his rage grew, and not even the Furies could hold him away from his vengeance. In a moment of hesitation, Kratos was able to escape their bounds, and killed them, thus severing away his ties with the God of War. Perhaps, now it was time to become a Champion of the Gods. Perhaps, it was time to have their favour sway his way, for once.

For five years, Kratos would serve the Gods, performing heroic deeds in their name, to gain favour, until the day that he watched the Sun fall down from the skies, and looking for answers, it was not the Goddess he was so familiar with, but her sister, the Goddess of Wisdom, that would give him the information, so that he could complete the task at hand - Rescue Helios. He had been kidnapped by the God of Dreams, Morpheus, who wanted to plunge Olympus into eternal slumber that would bind both men and Gods. Soon, all will succumb to the black grip of Morpheus.

Through many struggles and discoveries, he ended up going further into the Underworld, only to hear a melody that would haunt all of his dreams.  It was a sweet melody that she created, all by herself, the day that Kratos carved the flute for her and the Goddess imbued it with her magic, so that whenever she sang, flowers would bloom and small critters would come along and surround her. Upon seeing her form for the first time in so many long and painful years, he noticed at her feet, the fox was still guarding her, even after death.

In a rush, Kratos jumped off his boat and started chasing after his little girl, calling out her name desperately, only to be met with the Goddess Persephone. Being able to sense his genuine grief, she proposed the idea of a gift, of sorts. If the Spartan is willing to sacrifice his power and weapon, then she will allow him to be reunited with Calliope, in Elysium. An offer, that the father took without a second to spare.

But no gift is ever without a greater price to pay.

As Kratos ends up in the lush gardens of Elysium, he falls to his knees in front of his sweet daughter and embraces her dearly. As soon as he saw her, he realised, that all that he worked for, all that he ever wanted, was finally, within his reach. Years of service to the Gods had not delivered him from his pain, never had it eased the burden of his past... But now, Calliope was found. He cared little that the world was going to suffer - What about all the suffering that HE endured, all this time? He deserved to have a little bit of solace, after going through such torture. He deserved to be selfish and take what he wants.

"Father! Why did you go?!" the girl scolded him, patting at his chest, as if to punish him for being away so long. "I am here now, child, and I will not leave you again." he reassured the young girl, who although smiling, was still pouty and would continue to reprimand him. He had to know how much she missed him, of course!

However, he will soon learn once again, that Katrina's warnings had been truthful, and all Gods are selfish and only go about their own desires, without a single care in the world for the mortal realm. "I have watched over you, pathetic mortals, for a thousand years, and it is always the same! Serving yourself before the needs of others has always been your flaw. But no matter, for now, you serve my purpose." how dare she have the audacity to utter such falsehoods, when the Gods, above all, are the most despicable ones? The more she approach them, Calliope would cling onto his leg, burying her face into his torso, afraid of the Goddess of the Underworld and her menacing words. "It is time for all that came before, to end." she said, as she explained the plan she elaborated so cunningly. Liberating the Titan, Atlas, so that he could kidnap Helios and in turn, destroy the pillar that holds the world, bringing perish to Olympus, plunging the world into Chaos once more... And dying, along with everything that exists. All because she wed a man she did not love, and was betrayed by the Gods. Calliope was softly whimpering from what she was hearing. "In your selfish choice to be with your daughter, you have caused her ruin." this realisation dawned on him hard. No matter how much she wished to be reunited with his family, he was doomed for a life of pain. "Elysium falls too, Kratos. She will perish." "No! I will NOT let the Gods take her from me again!" though he tried to leap on her and kill her, he was easily thrown away by a swat of her hand. Concerned, the little one ran to his side, attempting to help him get up from the ground.

The choice was clear to him, yet impossible to make. To stay with his daughter meant the end of the world... And the end of her. To stop Persephone and Atlas, would mean forsaking his daughter... Forever. While his hatred and anger for the Gods grew ever stronger, he knew there was but one thing to do. Unable to even look her way, and trying to tune out her pleadings and cries, Kratos desperately tried to pry his little girl as gently as he could, so that he could find a way to stop Persephone from achieving her goal. He realised that what he had gained in humanity, he lost in power, and he would need to become the monster he once was, if he was to defeat the Goddess of the Underworld. He would need to become the Ghost of Sparta once again. - Thus, he began slaughtering the innocent souls that roamed Elysium's gardens, gaining all that he had given. If he wanted to save his child, he would need to sacrifice his life with her, so that she may live.

At that moment, Kratos knew his destiny was not with Calliope. He could only look away from her sobbing, screaming form that lay on the grass, pitifully calling out for him to return to her. She was lonely, and afraid, and she needed her father back to hold her and protect her. The Fates were never that kind.

Gripping his weapons, he ran away out of Elysium, in pursue of Persephone and Atlas, and upon defeating the Goddess, he heard her say something that would stick with him, forever. "Your suffering will never end, Ghost of Sparta. But if you ever want to blame someone for your grief, blame that Goddess you are so blindly fond of. Perhaps she cursed you, instead of blessing you. Do you not know that one who preaches about others, is often, rotten to the core?" were her dying words.

Still, they meant nothing to him, at the moment, for he was mourning his daughter once more. Once he went down, to face Atlas, carrying the world on his shoulders, chained and doomed forever, he remained quiet - Yet, the Titan, did not. "Perhaps you believe the Olympians will help you. But I ask - Where are your Gods now, Kratos? Why do they not come to your aid?" he challenged him, not only taunting, but planting the seeds of doubt and revenge into his heart. "I do not need the aid of the Gods, Atlas!" the man yelled out at him. "But my path is clear to me. I will serve them, and they WILL keep their promise to free me from my past!" it seemed as though the mortal was trying to convince himself of these words. "I ask you, Spartan - What good is the promise of an Olympian?" this question made Kratos realise, he was powerless, before the Pantheon. "It is all I have, Atlas!" he called out, his voice breaking, almost close to outright crying. "We will meet again, Spartan. The Fates have deemed it. One day, you will regret what you have done here. The Sisters toy with mortals and Olympians alike, Spartan. That Olympian woman who treasures you so had faced their cruelty, she should know better and warn you." were the last words that Atlas addressed to the mortal, yet once again, they referenced the Goddess of Kindness that promised to protect him long ago.

He could not understand though, why were these two warning him about Katrina? What is it about the Fates, and curses?  Surely, if she had cursed him, he would have been long dead - Only they knew how many times he was close to death. And as of cursing his family... Calliope would have been long dead, should she not have told him about the Ambrosia fruit, and given him Apollo's Flame to guide him, so that could not be it. Still, perhaps some day, he would ask her about her involvement with the Sisters of Fate. He needs to have his past erased, and though she told him she does not have such powers, he still hopes that, some day soon, some God will finally liberate him from the shackles of his past.

Kratos now returned back to the mortal realm, a hero, having saved humanity, yet that meant little to him. By forsaking his daughter, he had abandoned the only person he ever cared for, and broke his promise to his wife about protecting them with his life. What he had long sought and finally found, was now, forever lost.

Lost, as all his thoughts, and non-existent, as all the answers that he was seeking for - And for five more years, he would be serving the Gods once more...

Until the fated task of killing the God of War had finally been given.

< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >

[kassandras-one-braincell]

After having a shitty day at work my one remaining brain cell decided to start continuing on w your villain hcs for our favorite murder ladies. Maybe Kassandra would be Deimos in this situation or an extremely bloodthirsty and law breaking mercenary, Eivor either an Order member or a brutal warlord? and I can't think of anything for Soma rn

Love me some evil murder ladies and thinking about all of the bad things they could and would do for me bc they love me 🥺

That and a mechanic au bc I have to take my car to an auto shop to get it fixed and like women fixing cars? Attractive and I would gladly listen to them explain literally anything about a car

Murder ladies best ladies 🥺

Yeah personally I can never picture Kassandra as Deimos, because that would imply Alexios is the Eagle-Bearer and he gives me the biggest ick conceivable. He doesn't deserve that title. Stinky.

So let's talk irredeemably evil women who care about one person and that's you 🥰 Minors don't even think about touching the cut

(it should be said that there is a lot of violence under the cut - torture, disembowelment, scalping in slight detail - and of course it isn’t healthy knowingly taking an evil woman for a lover, not that it would stop us lmaooo. but please read at your own discretion)

Kassandra:

The most feared mercenary in Greece. She excels at what she does, but she enjoys the bloodier contracts a lot more than what’s healthy. The sounds of snapping bones and the squelch of a blade cutting through flesh bring a smile to her face. Her crew aboard the Adrestia fears her, and the shadier figures around the country struggle to sleep with the looming possibility of waking to her spear.

The only exemption from her depravity is you: you’re the brightest ray of light in Kassandra’s life. Her blood-money ensures you can live safely and comfortably without ever having to lift a finger. A part of her wants to stow you away in a cosy palace on an island so you would never have to witness the atrocities she commits, but you’d both miss each other terribly. Instead, she has a small house on every island for when you aren’t sailing.

But with her notoriety comes enemies. People want her dead, but are too afraid to instigate a hit on her. Anyone who tried didn’t live long enough to tell the tale. So one day, a corrupt man with far too much money and influence thought it wise to lure Kassandra into a trap. He hired a group to kidnap her one weakness, tying you up in a dingy cave, instructing messengers to leave subtle clues on your whereabouts. With a harsh grip on your hair, he promised that if she didn’t show up soon, he’d start hurting you. The array of tools atop a nearby boulder told you all you needed to know about his candour.

Oh, she showed up alright.

Kassandra is a smart woman. Any soul guarding the entrance to the cave was snuffed out before they could blink. They died far too swiftly for her liking, but your safety was her priority. When she found you in the cave, tears streaming down your cheeks with the conspirer’s knife grazing your skin, the final tether of her patience snapped. She shot his hand with her bow, then his knee, before slicing the heels of every other guard and binding their wrists. With them incapacitated, she turned her full attention back to the man about to hurt you, stabbing him over and over and over and over until his blood drenched her face.

When the - now rather literal - red mist dissipated, she didn’t waste a second before enveloping you in her arms, stroking your hair and kissing your temple firmly, whispering how worried she was and urgently asking if they hurt you in any way, tears pricking the corners of her eyes because she was scared. After checking you over, kissing you one or two or a dozen more times, she scooped you up and carried you back to her ship, lying you down and staying with you while you got some food in your belly, not quite ready to leave you alone. She orders her crew to lug the immobile guards back to her ship.

That night, Tartarus is unleashed upon the deck of the Adrestia. She took her time torturing the men who tried to harm you in a plethora of ways for her own amusement until they were crying in puddles of their own blood and piss.

Their wails of agony woke you from your light slumber. It was a cold night and Kassandra didn’t come to bed with you, so you woke up uneasy, still shaken from the incident and unable to feel safe without your misthios’ protective embrace. You knew she didn’t like to be disturbed when “working”, but you needed her.

The moment you asked in your sweet, slightly frightened voice for her to come to bed with you, she dropped her weapon. You never had to explain yourself to her; you shared a soul, you being the good and her being the bad. Her current subject had his neck snapped - the most mercy she had shown anyone all year, really. And as she held you in the captain’s quarters, listening to your soft breathing, she swore she would double the pain she inflicted on those men for disturbing your peace with their incessant crying.

Eivor:

Oh, cruel warlord Eivor. The chieftain who raids with the drengir of her clan not for supplies for her settlement, but to hurt, to burn, to ravage people of their possessions and to hurt again. Her rule was that people had the chance to flee, and she and her men would respect their choice, but if anybody crossed her, they died.

Her title of the “Scourge of Mercia” wasn’t earned through the eradication of false kings. No, no, she purged the kingdom of anybody who dared stake a claim to a crown or sizeable plot of land, and thrived in the aftermath: a chaos-ridden, kingless land. She did debate taking the title of King for herself, but thought better of it; with kingship came taxes and politics, which left less time for raiding. Eivor liked to have fun, after all.

But that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have a queen. You were a princess, the stepdaughter of one of the “kings” she loathed particularly, about to be married off to some undeserving man. Eivor was smitten the second she laid eyes on you, when she was scouting your stepfather’s keep for infiltration points - your castle was well-fortified, and she wasn’t a fool, she would seize the land with as few casualties on her side as possible - and pledged to save you from your miserable fate. She courted you properly, not incapable of nobility herself, and swore to whisk you away before you were married. You fell for her alarmingly fast, even though she was a terrifying Pagan who you were raised in fear of. But nobody had made you feel loved before.

She stormed the castle on your wedding day. It was nothing short of a bloodbath, the decorative petals on the ground stained crimson with entrails scattered between them. You were crying at the altar, not out of fear, but because you thought Eivor had broken her promise and was about to desert you, leaving you to be married off. Gods, her heart shattered then and there. She dislodged her axe from somebody’s skull and ran to kiss you, ripping off your veil, reassuring you that she would never abandon you, that if you’d still have her she would make you so, so happy. Her men had never seen her so soft. They knew then and there that you were special and not to be trifled with.

As she carried you away from the carnage, she ordered her men to gather the blood of the castle army. She had Gunnar forge a necklace from the iron in the blood and weld a pendant to the centre: a hollow crystal that she filled with her own blood, so that she would always be close to your heart. When she asked you to marry her, she gave you the necklace. Your heart swelled, of course, but then your stomach dropped, thinking that you’d be expected to make yourself bleed for her in return. Eivor immediately put your nerves to rest, saying, “My sweet dove, for you to feel the slightest pain would pierce me like a knife. All I ask for is your love.”

But while she was sweet and tender with you, her foes outside of her clan (and the traitors within, moreover) were met with a sadist who tortured ruthlessly for her own entertainment. She preferred live targets to training dummies. She would read of a particularly creative method of torture or execution and be itching to try it. Her poems sung of the blood she spilled and the queen who knew nothing of her deplorable joys.

Well, sort of. You knew Eivor was well acquainted with torture, and assumed that the men she brutalised were holding incredibly important information. Not caring for details, you never asked what they did to be sobbing with dozens of carefully opened wounds. Raised a princess your whole life, you were terribly squeamish; upon witnessing your first Vikingr execution, you fainted at the sight. Eivor’s men caught you before you could hit the ground - they were like brothers to her, and wouldn’t risk you hitting your head. She paused the execution as soon as you were brought to her attention, leaving the traitor on the stand half-disembowelled, and carried you to bed, ensuring you were in the safe hands of the servants before resuming.

You mattered most. If there was an object your heart desired, you would get it. Growing up as royalty meant you rather fancied material possessions, which gave Eivor an excuse to raid, just to bring you beautiful jewellery and dresses and decorate your darling body with the spoils of war. She would take the pretty things by force if it came to it. Nobody, nothing, came in the way of seeing her wife smile.

Soma:

Conquest was never as important as kingdom to Soma. She cared deeply for Grantebridge...and that was it. The remainder of England lived as a collection of pawns for her to dispose of as she saw fit, and if a lord of some pathetic little shire thought to challenge her, she would send his people his head as a harsh reminder.

Her port thrived under her rule, and with a port comes trade. You were the handmaiden of an ostentatious merchant’s wife, abused and living in fear of her next command. Soma first saw you with a split lip, covered in bruises, trembling under the weight of her gaze, flinching the moment the woman opened her painted mouth. Her steel heart softened; she may have been nefarious, but the notion of forcing people into servitude made her blood boil.

The evening of your arrival, she managed to ease you out of the wretch’s grasp. She wrapped your quivering form in the bear’s fur draped across her shoulders as she cleaned your busted lip, asking how such a sweet little thing as yourself wound up in that old bitch’s hands. And you broke down, telling this stranger, who you knew hurt people, everything: how she beat you and broke your spirit with her words, and threatened to let her husband’s men do unspeakable things to you every time you misplaced so much as a strand of the hair she obsessed over.

Soma held you as you wept, infuriated by the words falling upon her ears. She offered you a new, free life, asking what your passions were, promising you the freedom to explore them without inhibition. She wanted to see the tender soul within you flourish, for a reason inexplicable to her.

That night, she told you to keep far away from the guest quarters where the merchant and your mistress slept. She gave you clean clothes and allowed you to sleep in her bed, where nobody would dare disturb your slumber - the first real bed you had slept on in a long time. Entering the guest bedchamber with a plan, she first took the eyes of the merchant - befitting of his apparent see-no-evil attitude - as to spare him from witnessing the wrath she was about to inflict upon his wife. She ripped the hair your mistress cared for so deeply from her skull, scalp and all, a feral glint in her eye as she sobbed in anguish. The couple, one blind and the other in blinding pain, were escorted to their ship during the night so the eyes of the town’s children would be spared.

You were kept awake by the sounds, and thought yourself diseased in the head for not being disturbed by her agonised screams. The Jarlskona would not want somebody so sick in her town, you thought, tears streaming down your cheeks. But Soma found you, apologising to you for her inconsideration. She embraced you as you were honest in your emotions, and she convinced you that you were the purest, loveliest soul to set foot in her town.

When Soma saw you sat bathed in the sun amidst a field of flowers, delicately weaving some into a crown, finally free from suffering, she was convinced you were a nymph who had wandered too far from the forest whence you came. You were the epitome of beauty, glowing in the sunlight. The gods had brought you to Grantebridge. She pledged to herself to take you as her bride. But you deserved to be treated with amity, so she courted you formally, never wanting to bring you discomfort. Birna and Lif joked that she had gone soft, to which she always grinned, but Galinn dared to speak against you, saying you were peasant blood and good for nothing but servitude. Her dagger shore open his throat faster than he could blink.

She now had one more reason to keep the port safe from plotters and bandits. Seeing you play with the town’s children, telling them Saxon tales of dragons and warlocks, lounging about the flowers and lending a hand whenever to help the port thrive filled her with more joy than bloodshed ever had. So she would annihilate those who threatened her town, torturing them for information on fellow conspirers, for your safety. But she would always wash her hands before caressing her darling, for you did not deserve to be tainted with the blood of filth.

( I could be persuaded to write smut snippets for each of the ladies with these depraved personas so do let me know if you would be interested <3 )

[unidentifiedtomdoe]

Remaking the Sailor Moon AU, in honor of me getting all of the Classic/90s Manga

Fun Facts about this AU!

At first the Sailor Guardians eyes and hair could have changed colors, but the idea was scrapped. I kept the idea though. Kokichi's eyes change to a golden color and loses the colored tips, while Kaito's hair darkens and his eyes change to a pink color.

Kokichi is a girl in this AU, but she's mistaken for a guy since the first time she went to their highschool, she wore the men's uniform since she had been running late and she did sort of look like a guy. She hasn't corrected anybody, and her teachers refer to her just as "Ouma"

Kaito, Maki, Shuichi, Rantaro, Tsumugi, Angie, Kaede, Miu and Kiibo have been switched around. Kiibo and Miu switched to be humans rather than take Artemis and Luna's place. Miu took the place of Sailor Mercury while Kaede became Sailor Venus. Maki became Sailor Mars instead of being Sailor Saturn while Kaito lost his connection to Sailor Mars and purely became Tuxedo Mask. Angie, Shuichi, Kiibo and Rantaro are just normal students but Rantaro and Shuichi know about their friends having Sailor Crystals.

Kaede transfers to the class later on into the story.

The cats are MonoTaro and MonoPhanie. Maki on the other hand has 2 dogs instead of Crows. They're named Phobos and Deimos like the crows but Phobos is a nice goofy dog while Deimos is like a rabid chihuahua.

Kokichi and Rantaro call Miu "Irumau". It's because she always signs stuff with a mouse so they added the first part of Mausu to her name. Kokichi and Rantaro's nicknames aren't as clever so they just get their first names.

I felt like Mamoru's insecurity in Sailor Moon is like Kaito's in v3 so that's another reason why Kaito gained the Tuxedo Mask title and Maki got the Sailor Mars place.

Maki can't read fire or banish evil spirits like Rei did. Instead she's a very sharp shooter and has been known to not miss her target.

Miu isn't a full scale inventor, but still loves to tinker with random clocks or calculators.