#June was very kind to write a paragraph describing what she wanted and god it did hit hard ehehehe

[suokumi]

FEAR MY BELOVED

a commission piece I've made for @sleepyjuniper

Moon a dorky dork who struggles to realize just how scary he is, this is fine he'll comfort you after he realizes just how scared you got

A special request to get him as canon as possible uwu

[atalho-s]

Light Up The Dark

Part 1 | June

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: some smut +18 (in this particular chapter it’s nothing TOO explicit, but miniors be aware), swear words?, drinking, let me know if anything else!

words: 4.9 k

summary: y/n is a famous horror writer. Her books are on the lips of the people and her face is on all the magazine covers of promising young people.

She has just moved to Los Angeles, the city of celebrities and luxury, when she starts to get a writer's block as she starts writing her newest book. A way to distract herself and seek inspiration leads her to have her destiny mapped out with a simple waiter named Tom who has a delicious british accent.

What happens when her inspiration comes back only after she spends a night with him and she only manages to write after being in the company of that guy she just met? Maybe he'll become her newest addiction.

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! this is a series i started writing a while ago, i hope y’all enjoy :) the reader it’s from brazil here, but you can replace from any country you want lol And obv i’m not from LA and never been there, so if i say something out of reality it’s bc of that 😂

"June arrived at the restaurant, sat down near the bar and looked around vaguely. The strange people's faces made her think better and maybe drink a shot of tequila too.

She opened his folder with the horrifying photos of the mysterious case. She felt sick to her stomach.

People said that by then she should have been used to see this kind of thing, but that was repulsive.

She wish the nightmare she had the night before was a way to solve that puzzle, but believing in the afterlife now wouldn't help her... If...If..."

- Damn it... - Y/n slammed her fist on the table. - Writer's block sucks. - She said and took the last sip of her tea.

It s been a week since she couldn't write anything. She would write maybe two paragraphs, maybe even three if she got lucky, but she always ended up erasing it, because she always turned into something meaningless or too cliche.

Damn the time she had promised to deliver something to her editor by the end of the month. But she hadn't counted on the lack of ideas when she agreed to that.

She got up from her chair in frustration and crossed her arms, pacing, as if her creativity had gone out for a walk and she was waiting impatiently for it to come back.

Why had she agreed to write a new book in the first place? She didn't need money. Their previous four books were already making huge profits, and they were going to make a new television series based on one of them.

So why writing another one? Maybe because, she had been having too many nightmares lately. Many family and friends told her to see a psychologist, see if she didn't have some hidden trauma. But looking for a psychologist? Admitting your weaknesses and personal things to a stranger? Never. That would be horrifying.

Writing helped. Transferring his fears to pages was hers gift. When she wrote she didn't have nightmares, didn't see things, wasn't sad. It was like a drug, a calming medicine.

Maybe fame was also making her restless lately. She hated being the spotlight, being the magazine cover of promising young people. She hated to see her name highlighted. But she loved having readers, yes. She loved when someone felt good reading her books or in the good sense of the word: terrified by her stories.

At the height of her 25 years, he never thought her books would become famous at that point. She had always enjoyed writing since she was a child, but working with it was just an unattainable dream. Until, at age 19, she quit her hideous job as a hotel receptionist and decided to publish her first story.

Obviously there were many rejections, until a publisher agreed to publish their work. From then on, her books became more and more known. They called her the new horror genius, the mystery queen, and sometimes even "Stephen King's lost daughter."

She didn't think it was all that. But she accepted the descriptions gladly. No wonder her books didn't come out of the top spot on the best sellers.

Another thing that motivated her to continue with that story, was a phrase from her own idol mentioned, Stephen King: "good stories are those that stay in the head for a long time". And God only knew how that story had been with her for far too long. She always wanted to put it down on paper, so here she was trying to put into words what her head brought up as random thoughts.

But now she was having one of his first creative blocks. Obviously she had already had it with previous books, but nothing as frustrating as this one. She had been trying hard for days, which was exhausting.

She looked at the clock on the wall: 11pm. Who knows if she took another break before starting writing again? Maybe it would help to come up with more ideas.

She thought about watching a show or movie, but he wasn't in the mood. She looked at her long polka dot pajamas under her favorite warm robe and snorted. Go out? On a Thursday night? On a cold night? No way.

But what if it helped her have more writing material? Watching people on the street really helped. If June, the character in her book, was in a bar, maybe if she went to one too it would help to have something to build on.

Writers did it all the time. Describe places that already existed, situations similar to which they lived. So, it wouldn't be new. Maybe she'd even put the location in her tribute if helped she got out of her creative block.

She took a deep breath and went to take a shower. It was decided, she would go out. She put on her best jeans, a Ramones T-shirt with a leather jacket. It wasn't a fancy outfit, but she didn't intend to go somewhere fancy anyway. Her stylist would have been dying to see her now, but she didn't care one bit.

She went out pressing the bottom of the elevator. Y/n had lived on the top floor of a building for 2 months, right in downtown Los Angeles. Sometimes she didn't even know why she chose to live there, she hated the big city and what came with it: paparazzi, celebrities, crazy people who feel superior, wealth and luxury. She came from a humble family, so she always felt like an outsider.

Y/n arrived downstairs and left the condominium calling a taxi that was passing in the street just in time. She walked in and closed the door, crossing her arms, trying to ward off the cold.

- Good night miss, where are you going? - the driver asked looking at her in the rearview mirror.

- Good night... Actually I don't know, do you have any suggestions for a bar around here?- she asked looking out the window. She didn't even bother to look for suggestions for places nearby.

- Well, it depends on what you're looking for... Something luxurious or something fun? - He said and a smiled played on the corer of her mouth. Luxurious was the opposite of fun indeed.

- Something fun, of course.

- So, I suggest the new Seven Devils bar, it's less than 20 minutes from here... - he said.

- Interesting name... Could be. - She said shrugging.

- The name is kinda creepy, but the place is cozy and welcoming, I went once. - the driver said starting and entering the street that was practically empty for being a weekday.

- Cool... - Y/n said looking at the city lights through the window.

After nearly twenty minutes the taxi stopped in front of what appeared to be a small door with a security guard in front of it. The neon sign indicated the name of the place, it seemed a mysterious place for those who passed by without knowing it.

- Thanks. - Y/n said handing the driver the money.

- You're not the Y/n Y/l/n? I didn't want to say anything, but I'm a fan of you, I love your books, they help me pass the time while I wait for passengers. - the driver asked turning a little with one of the Y/n books in his hand. - Could you sign this for me?

- Sure! - Y/n spoke excitedly taking the book from his hand and leaving a message along with her signature. - Thanks for the tip of the place. Have a good night... - She said opening the door.

- No, thank you, have a good night miss. -he said and she smiled closing the door and the taxi left leaving her alone looking at the door in front of her.

She approached the security guard who wished her good night, giving her room to enter, after she showed her ID. Y/n entered a little afraid of what she would find. The door behind her closed and she looked around. It was really cozy as the taxi driver said, it had a part with several tables, which were a little empty and a bar with stools around. The place had a good atmosphere, one of those that people go there to meet and chat with friends, in the background there was a kind of pop song that she wasn't sure if she knew or not.

He slowly approached the bar and sat down on one of the stools. A woman with several tattoos appeared behind the counter and came to serve her.

- Good night! How can I serve you?- she asked with a smile.

- Good night... Hm... Maybe a martini? - Y/n said taking a look at the drinks on the shelf behind the attendant.

- Okay, I'll be back with your order, anything else?

- That's it for now, thanks. - She replied smiling and the attendant walked away.

Y/n kept looking around, watching people, maybe looking for some inspiration. Something that would turn the key in his mind. Many who were there were in groups of friends and were talking animatedly, laughing. Some young and some older, in suits and ties, perhaps coming out of work.

Until one guy in particular caught her attention. He wore the black uniform with the name of the place, with an apron tied around the waist of the same color, and was picking up some glasses from some empty tables. He had dark brown hair slicked back and eyes the same color, very expressive and large. A boy's face from the outside, but on the inside had a mysterious and confident air.

He balanced a tray full of things with an greatest skill in one hand and smiled at some people, he seemed charming because everytime he left a table he left people whispering and giggling embarrassed behind his back.

He walked over and entered the bar placing the tray behind the counter, came close to the other attendant who already had the Y/n martini ready and she could hear him talking, soon realizing he had a perfect accent.

- Sally, you can leave it to me, go take your break. Whose martini is it?- he asked taking a look around.

- Oh thank you, my feet are killing me. It's the girl over there. -she said indicating Y/n with her head and he looked at her, making Y/n realize that she was staring at him for too long, so she looked away embarrassed.

- Okay. - he said looking at where Y/n was sitting and stopped in front of her with the glass. - Good night miss, here is your order. - He spoke with a british accent. Only at that moment did Y/n realize that his accent was well loaded and God only knows how much she loved that accent.

- Oh yes, thank you very much. - She said raising her eyes to look at him and smiled then he blinked with one of his eyes and gave her one more look, before going to deliver another order to a man who was sitting a few benches away.

Y/n felt a shiver all of a sudden, that boy had made her legs a little weak and she didn't really know why. I mean, he was handsome, very handsome and he had a special charm, but it wasn't that much, was it? Maybe it was because it had been a while since she'd dated anyone. When was the last time? Two months ago? Since she had moved in she hadn't gone out with anyone, she had locked herself in her apartment and was writing like crazy. She didn't have time to go out, not even with her friends when she was working on a new book. Which brought them dissatisfaction from time to time, not just because she didn't hang around with them, but because she didn't even go out on one-night stands.

She never been the one that going out with a guy just for sex, she had to have some good first dates and maybe she would take him to see her apartment or go to his apartment. Friends of hers thought she was too old in her spirit, but what can he do? If she couldn't be bad girl once in a while. For a moment she thought, "For this english guy I would be" but shook her head away from the thoughts. She went back to analyzing him, dammit why did he have to be so fit? She could see that the T-shirt he was wearing highlighted his muscles that were only left to her imagination, she found herself biting her lip a bit and snatching her martini off the counter, taking a big sip.

The attendant approached again, drying some glasses with a towel, and took one more look in her direction where she looked away quickly making him smirk. He stopped in front of her again, bracing her arms on the counter, making her swallow hard. He didn't know why she was so nervous, he was just a guy, no biggie.

- I like the shirt. - He pointed with a smile, which made her think he had a beautiful and endearing smile. She looked down and then looked at him smiling too.

- Thank you... Ramones is everything... - she said and drank the last sip of her drink placing the empty glass in front of her right after. - Can you serve one more?

- Sure...- he said, still smiling, took the bottle and filled his glass again. - Trying to distract yourself on a thursday night?

- Yeah... you could say yes... - she said taking another sip. - Have you worked here for a long time?

- In fact, it's been almost six months since I moved to the United States and I've been working here for four months. -he said putting the towel that was in his hand on his shoulder.

- Hm... You're from London?

- I am, wow how did you find out? - he asked raising an eyebrow playfully and she smiled.

- Yeah, your accent really doesn't give out anything ... - she said and he gave a low laugh making her have more goose bumps.

- You also have a different accent, have you lived here for a long time? - he didn't know who she was, which was good. But it also wasn't like she was recognized all the time, despite her face being on magazine covers, she was still a writer, so she was only recognized by those who liked to read or who vaguely remembered her face.

- I was born in Brazil actually, but I've lived here for years, lived in another city for almost five years and now I've decided to come to Los Angeles two months ago...

- I see ... - he said organizing some drinks that were on the counter. - Do you like it here?

- More or less... It's a busy city, isn't it?

- Yeah, it's not for anyone. - He said shrugging. - I like it, I like the rush, but the glamor part really isn't me. - the attendant said and she smiled.

- You're right... I mean, I don't like the glam too much either... - She looked away at her nails.

- What do you work with? - he asked and she looked at him again.

- I'm a writer...

- Nice! What do you write? - He asked curious looking at her with attention.

- I write horror and thriller books.

- Interesting... I would never read, actually I'm not much of a reader anyway, but I wouldn't, because I'm terrified of those things. - He said crossing his arms and she laughed.

- Oh, it's not that terrifying, it's just stories. - She said leaning her elbows on the counter.

- Still, I prefer to have my good night's sleep intact. - He said and she laughed making him smile looking at her.

When she was about to say something, a customer signaled for him and he excused himself going towards the man who was furthest away.

Y/n sighed. She still didn't have any new ideas about her story, but she was entertained by that conversation. She liked not being recognized, she liked him not being interested in her books, for a moment she felt oblivious to anything, liked feeling disconnected from her world.

He returned shortly after and they started talking again. They talked about bands, movies, superficial celebrities and even politics (an important topic in Y/n's vision, who was very firm with her ideas, thankfully he had passed the test). She found out that he was the same age as her and that he moved to the US to look for something that would give him money or a perspective on life, ended up getting that job and intended to stay until he found a different area. The hours passed and they kept finding subjects to give their opinion or questions to ask each other.

- Did you go to college? - she asked after a while.

- No, I don't think I'm smart enough for that, or have the patience. What about you?

- Everyone is smart enough. I started going to business school, but I dropped out when my books started to pay off...

- Wow, your books should give you a good amount of money to be able to drop out of college and dedicate yourself to them...

- Yeah... You could say that. - She shrugged.

- You know looking at you closer like that...- he said getting a little closer and she held her breath for a moment. - I've seen you somewhere...

- Really? - She said raising her eyebrow and drinking from a straw, now with a different drink.

- I don't know, you're not strange to me... - he said putting his hand on his face thoughtfully.

- Well, I hope it's from somewhere nice. - She smiled and he smiled back looking at her. - Do you have a girlfriend or are you married? - Y/n asked and regretted a little, what was she thinking? He wasn't married, as he didn't have a ring on his finger as she'd noticed. But what was her intention by asking that question? She didn't even know, she just knew it had escaped her.

- Neither darling. - He replied smiling a little mischievously and she felt butterflies with the way he called her by that nickname and with that accent. - How about you?

- Neither ... - She replied avoiding looking at him, those eyes hypnotized her and she didn't like to feel at his mercy of a guy she had just met. She took the cell phone disguising but paid attention to the time. - My God, it's already 2:00 in the morning! I completely missed the time.

- I think the company ended up distracting you. - He said still not taking his eyes off her and she felt her cheeks heat up.

- Yeah, the chat was really good... But I have to go... - she said getting up.

- If you wait I can take you home, I'm already leaving, the bar is already closing. - he said and Y/n looked around seeing that some waiters were already collecting some things from the tables.

She thought for a moment, take a ride home with him? It didn't make sense, she had just met him, but at the same time she had enjoyed talking to him so much. He didn't seem like a bad person, but even so you would never know for sure. At the same time she never took any chances, why not let that pretty boy take her home? Finally, she thought: you know what? Screw this.

-Erm, ok...- She shrugged. - I'll go to the cashier to pay and wait for you outside?

- No need to pay darling, it's on me. - He spoke winking and she smiled.

- Oh no, I'll pay no problem...

- Your company has paid off your debt, it's ok. - He replied and she took a deep breath rolling her eyes.

- If you insist...- she said giving up.

He came out from behind the counter and motioned for her to follow him, arriving at the front door where the security was.

- Tuwaine, you can let her pass, it's on me. - He told the big guy and he looked at the english man, sawing his eyes suspiciously and smiling right away. Making Y/n laugh inside.

- Meet you outside? It will only take a few minutes - the attendant said and she nodded, leaving in the cold night.

She leaned against the door with her thoughts. She had come here just to get inspiration and to have her creative back, but she was coming home with an english guy. She didn't even recognize herself anymore, but to say she wasn't anxious (in a good way) was a lie.

She was lost in her thought, until minutes later he came out wearing a denim jacket, which made him look even more handsome.

- Let's go? - He said and she followed him to an old car parked right in front of the bar.

He opened the door for her to get in and she thanked him by sitting in the passenger seat, pulling on her seat belt as he closed the door. He sat down next to her right away, also putting on his belt.

- Hey, before we go: I didn't ask for your name! If you're going to take me home at least I have to know that- she asked realizing that she didn't even know that yet and he looked towards her smiling.

- Tom Holland. - He said stretching his hand. - Nice to meet you.

- Y/n Y/l/n- she said, squeezing his hand. And you can't deny that she felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt her skin on hers.

- Your name is not strange to me, I must have read it in one of your books in some shop window. - He said starting and leaving with the car.

- Yeah, who knows ... - she said and he turned on the radio leaving the volume low.

They were exchanging a few words until she indicated that they had arrived at the building where she lived. Tom parked and looked up in a daze.

- Wow, you really have money... - he said and she took off her belt turning towards him.

- A little bit...- she replied crossing her arms. - Well, thank you so much for the ride...

- You're welcome darling. - He said turning his eyes to her. Again that nickname that sounded perfect on his lips.

She turned around, but when she was about to open the door, she turned back to Tom, who was leaning with one hand on the steering wheel and watching her with attention. The next words escaped her again and she was afraid she'd regret it.

- Tom, do you want to come in? - She spoke still holding the door and the boy smiled.

- Sure ... - he said taking the key from the ignition and she shook her head slightly leaving.

He followed her and they entered the building. Tom looked at everything admired which made Y/n smile a little to herself. They entered the elevator and she pressed the penthouse button causing him to raise an eyebrow.

- You really must be a great writer. - he said and she laughed.

He leaned his back against the elevator wall, putting his hands in his pocket and looking her up and down, making her shy. He kept looking at her and it was making her nervous.

They were silent until the elevator opened after a while and they got out. Y/n put a password on the door and it swung open with a small click, she took held the latch and motioned for Tom to enter.

After the two of them entered she closed the door again behind her and watched Tom standing further on, looking around.

- Nice apartment...- he finally said.

- Thank you... - She leaned against the table at the entrance. She didn't know what to do next, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring him here. Why was she so impulsive that night? -Tom, I don't know why I invite you in, sorry...-she said a little nervous looking at her feet. He turned towards her, approaching and stopping in front of her.

- Are you sure you don't know? - He asked and she raised her head, seeing those brown eyes. She bit her bottom lip watching him closely. Damn he knew how to hypnotize her. He took another step and placed a hand on either side of her on the table, cornering her - Your body says otherwise, love... - he said softly feeling her breath hitch slowly and approaching his face to hers, alternating the look of your eyes to her lips. Y/n found another nickname that was perfect when he say.

He finally closed the distance by pressing his lips to hers. His lips were soft and warm, as if they were meant to be kissed. She returned the kiss willingly and when she laced her fingers in his neck, he licked her lower lip slowly asking for passage in which she opened them letting his tongue explore her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist and roamed her body greedily. As he kissed her, he caught her from behind her legs and sat her down on the entrance table, biting her bottom lip shortly after, provoking a low moan from her. He smiled against her lips and trailed kisses to her neck, attacking her skin with desire, making her throw her head back a little.

She grabbed his hair and pulled him back so she could kiss him. Which he gladly reciprocate. His kiss was urgent, but without being rude, he tasted like mint, making her want him even more.

His fingers found the button of her pants and he undid them quickly pulling them out, tossing them aside. When he came back he took her calf and kissed her leg up to her thighs, making her sigh. He moved up the kisses until he caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it up a little, kissing her stomach as well. Y/n didn't know what to do but feel goose bumps with every touch he gave. He then hiked up her shirt and she lifted her arms where he pulled her off, tossing along with her pants that were also on the floor.

She was just wearing her underwear in front of him, it made her a little excited and embarrassed at the same time, but the way he looked at her made her feel confident. He went back to kissing her body, this time kissing each covered breast in turn and reaching for the back of her bra and opening it. She helped him out tosiing to the side and he stood between her legs just watching her for a second, making her feel her cheeks heat up.

- Perfect... - he said with a low voice, as it was for himself and bent down to her breasts kissing each one of her nipples and then sucking them deliciously. Y/n moaned and bit her lip to keep her moans from getting louder, tangling her fingers in his hair again. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds and smiled slightly lowering his kisses to where she wanted him most.

He reached the hem of her panties and pulled them out slowly, kneeling between her legs and she looked at him with expectation. He returned the look and gave that smirk again.

- Look at you darling.... - That damn nickname. - Extremely wet and I haven't even touched you yet... - he said approaching and devouring her right away making her throw her head back with pleasure, biting her lips again to not sound so pathetic with her moans that insisted in wanting get out. - Oh, please don't drown out those wonderful sounds you make, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel. - He said in a husky tone, returning to his task after and she parted her lips letting her moans spread through the apartment.

****************************************************************************************

Y/n woke up the other day in her bed. She didn't even know how she got there, she just had flashes of the night before and how good she felt in each moment. She stretched and looked to the side seeing she was alone. She got up and put on a robe who was on the side of the bed.

After going to the bathroom and doing her morning hygiene routine she walked around the apartment looking around to see if Tom was somewhere else in the house, but found nothing. Which was understandable, it wasn't like she expected him to stay there and have breakfast with her and all.

She arrived in the kitchen and made black coffee and lean against the countertop. What that simple waiter had done to her was ridiculous, in a good sense, she felt great and kept remembering that accent that was stuck in her mind. He had consumed her in a way she had never imagined it she could be.

Taking a deep breath she set down turning her notebook on. Then opened her book and started writing.

[toushindai]

I originally drafted a post about how "reach out and grasp" came to be, but then went "no, this is far too self-indulgent" and resolved not to make such a post

but then I remembered that this is my blog and self-indulgence is literally the entire point

so!

Where did the idea come from?

Depends on which part of the idea you're talking about!

On December 24, 2018, 18 days after EA began, I first encountered the "Fury" remembrance screen ("One thing the mortals have on us is how quickly they become men. This is the Fury Megaera. She will accelerate the process in your case.") Within twenty-four hours I had committed myself to an "arranged marriage" interpretation of this line. I have not significantly wavered since. (When I have wavered, I have remembered that Zagreus claims he originally tried not to get emotionally attached to Megaera, which fortifies my certainty that Hades did indeed intend a relationship between the two rather than Megaera just being another tutor.)

Eventually, sometime after Thanatos existed and it was clear he was also a love interest, I concluded that at some point during the engagement, he and Megaera got in an argument about...... uh...... "which one of them is a better influence on the incorrigible Zagreus." Definitely not "which one of them better deserves to spend time with Zagreus and be romantically associated with him." No way, definitely not. And then didn't speak until after the MegZag breakup. After the MegZag breakup, their friendship "returned to normal." Of course it returned to normal, why would either of them resent each other over a thing like Zagreus? Now that's just ridiculous. (If you've read "reach out and grasp," you have seen that I do not think their friendship entirely repairs at this point.)

In February 2020, I decided to investigate the game files for funsies. There, I discovered several very interesting things about what jealousy-flavored lines become available and unavailable when. You can see some of my analysis of those discoveries here, but it was at this point that I really became interested in writing how Megaera and Thanatos worked out their jealousy, because I was still frustrated that they were obviously jealous early on in the romance progressions but blow Zagreus off if he asks about it once he's dating them. Relying on the conclusions from various line requirements, and working exclusively in a "Thanatos first, Megaera second" version of things (thanks to the blurse of my own RNG), I settled on a headcanon that at some point, around the eighth gift to Megaera, she and Thanatos had a conversation that resolved the lion's share of the awkward resentment they'd been feeling since the above bullet point, which resolved Thanatos's jealousy (hence locking his "you sure have been seeing a lot of Megaera lately" line) but did not fully make up Megaera's mind (which is why her "I'm sure Death will welcome you with open arms" line stays open a little longer). Therefore I envisioned a second conversation after the completion of both romance arcs where they actually got on the same page about things. (Again, if you've read ROAG, this should be sounding intensely familiar.)

Over the course of several months, several attempts were made to write either of the conversations described in the above bullet point. All ended in failure and frustration.

Additionally, I spent much of early quarantine settling on a headcanon in which Meg and Than have never been romantically/sexually interested in each other, but have often been perceived as such throughout the Underworld, to some degree of discomfort. Then Blood Price (June 2020) swoops in with some Official info about how Than and Meg became close (over Sisyphus) and also adding the the canon threesome scene, which I am on the record as not being terribly fond of for various reasons. That I had just spent three IRL-unusually-miserable months deciding that Meg and Than are slightly repulsed by being thought of as romantically attached is a significant part of this as well. Blood Price was a time!

Anyway. Shortly before 1.0 I stumbled across a list of ship domesticity questions, which got me thinking about marriage between the MZT trio. This was when I decided "well, I don't think MegZag want to get married after what they've already been through with each other, but what about ThanZag? Oh for sure. And what does that feel like for Meg when they do, then?" Again this should be sounding familiar...

A fic?

As I was thinking about that last bullet point above, I began to push a series of several headcanons together: I envisioned a series of events in which Megaera, half-sarcastically, asks Thanatos where her congratulations for being engaged to Zagreus are; in which Meg apologizes for not congratulating Than on getting together with Zag a bit quicker due to being slower to resolve her own jealousy; in which Meg sincerely and easily congratulates Than at his wedding to Zagreus.

Parallelism being an irresistible catnip to me, thus was born the first inklings of what I for a very long time called "hinge" or "hinge fic." A fic focusing on how Zagreus, placed at the "hinge" between Megaera and Thanatos, allowed them to become closer friends. The original idea, which I did attempt to start writing before 1.0, was going to be formatted as a series of narrative passages covering a wide period of time alternating with three specific tension-filled, or tension-relieving, conversations between Meg and Than. "Isn't that just ROAG" you may ask, if you don't understand just how brief I meant to be with the narrative passages. I will allow you to look at the first one (the only one I really wound up writing) here but you're not allowed to judge me for it because I'm already telling you it's not very good. This was meant to be followed by another paragraph or two about "OK actually Meg and Zag kind of like each other" before leaping right into the Meg-Than argument about which one of them should get to marry Zag would be a better influence on the irresponsible prince.

Then 1.0 happened and not only was I consumed with actually playing the game a whole lot and writing fic responding to the game's ending, but then I hurt my hand and couldn't write at all for a month and was miserable etc etc etc

Then I started seeing the Big Bang advertised and thought that an external commitment and a deadline might be just the things I needed to get these damn headcanons into a fic already.

So how was the writing process?

It was absolute hell! Thank you for asking.

I mean, when I started writing while considering the Big Bang, back in December, I hadn't even 100% made up my mind that it was a Meg character study. I did decide on that much pretty quickly, but where should it start? I wavered on including the Sisyphus chapter and originally thought I was starting with "Hey Meg you're engaged now :)". But I wanted to have a bit about Meg and Than's friendship so as to make it more emotionally charged when that friendship starts deteriorating, which meant I had to write the Sisyphus chapter, and my first several attempts at the Sisyphus chapter (December-February) had no sense of emotional uniting theme. Oh my god they were so bad. Oh my god chapter 1 was so hard. I suffered. The turning point was when I stuck a bunch of post-it notes on a wall to track the emotional arc of the entire fic and wound up concluding that I needed to start with Meg and Than meeting over their Chthonic Companions--thereby pretty much tossing every word of chapter 1 I'd written so far in the garbage can. I could immediately, within seconds, tell that this was going to be much better, and I swore copiously about it.

Even after that, it took me several drafts of the entire fic to figure out what the emotional theme was, to figure out what specific story I was telling about Meg. And with each theme I tried on, I had to rewrite entire conversations so that they were on that theme. Several times over. The conversation between Meg and Than just before Zag escapes for the first time--which, you remember, I had wanted to write since February 2020--took much wrangling.

But how satisfying when it actually started to come together!

The thing is I have never before written something that the first draft was so bad and had to rewrite it over and over and eventually turn it into something that was actually good. Something I felt proud of! I've never had this happen before. If I hadn't committed to the Big Bang, I would have given up. And ROAG wouldn't exist. I am considering this experience with great seriousness and trying to learn from it.

[jamesdegraves-blog]

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[projectsuminda]

World Building June 2017 - Day 16: Magic

Let me just say that as someone who holds a strong interest and belief in magic, I have been looking forward to this topic for a long time.  Here we go...

Solevaille

As was mentioned on Day 4 (History), it was magic that changed the course of history in Solevaille.  The most important of these to the story was the way Queen Lucina Geppetto brought the dolls to life, which was dependent on magic.  The people of Solevaille view magic as an overall superstitious and almost taboo subject, and there is still a lingering belief that magic is the work of the devil.  Fortunately, though, the advent of living toys mitigated these fears somewhat - especially since it falls under “white” magic.  Odd as it may seem, magic in this setting is mainly black and white - that is, it can be used to heal, purify, and give life (white magic), or to harm, control, and bring death (black magic).  These types are invariably associated with light and darkness, respectively... but while the magic itself has these connotations, it is how one uses it that matters, as will be a message enforced throughout the story of Porcelain Wonderland.

Let’s talk about how the dolls were brought to life.  Life depends on the existence of a soul, which is the source of one’s identity, personality, and memories.  In humans and other “natural” beings, the soul is infused throughout the body from birth until death, though it is rumored that it is “anchored” in the brain and in the heart.  Those are rumors, though, so I won’t go into them.  More importantly, souls are made of an intangible substance called ether (not to be confused with the chemical).  As it is not made of matter nor energy, it defies the very laws of physics, and for that reason, although more powerful individuals are thought to contain more ether than others, this is false; ether does not have a truly quantifiable amount.

Whenever someone dies, their soul leaves their body and moves on into the afterlife, as I believe I mentioned on Day 9 (religion/cosmology).  Here souls are thought to exist on the “astral plane”, from which they can be contacted by mystics and even manifest as ghosts if they choose to visit the mortal realm.  Bringing the dolls to life involves crafting an artificial soul using ether from the astral plane, and giving it a blank slate from which new memories and a new identity can be formed - kind of like forced reincarnation.  Incidentally, a similar process is thought to happen when babies are born, and thought to be the job of God.  Naturally, there have been a few protests among particularly religious tourists (and residents) who say Lucina is breaking natural law by doing this... but as with anyone who gets in her way, Lucina just quietly disposes of these people, where eventually they end up in the Deathly Glade.

Okay, here is a prompt where I definitely have to talk about the Deathly Glade, as it is a construct of magic itself, magic of the blackest sort.  Specifically it is an alternate dimension, contained within a magic mirror and being filled with black mists that drain life and trap souls.  Anyone who gazes into this mirror for too long is in danger of being trapped in there, from which they cannot escape and will suffer a painful death, as a result of poisoning by the black mists (essentially an illness brought about by a curse).  So far, at the time of the story, only two individuals have managed to avoid being drawn inside the mirror this way, those being the Geppetto twins.  Sinistrina is credited with bringing this realm into existence in the first place, and presumably since Lucina learned about magic from her (hence why souls are involved in bringing dolls to life), she has not been affected either.  Originally only a small hand mirror contained this realm, but to further their practice, the twins have since enchanted two more magic mirrors, both full-length.  One is a duplicate of the original, functioning as a one-way portal to the Deathly Glade; the other contains white mists and forms a gateway to the astral plane, so that dolls can be brought to life by gazing into that, even when Lucina is not around.  Currently the former is kept in the throne room of Ludinberg Castle, and the latter is kept in the factory where toys are made.

One reason for the hierarchy to the dolls has to do with how compatible ether is with certain objects and substances.  The details of this are not too important (I don’t want this to end up like the midichlorians of Star Wars infame), but generally, the more complex the vessel is, the better its soul can function.  Porcelains and Ceramics look the most human-like, and thus end up at the top of the hierarchy, their souls being just like ours.  As it turns out, clay is an excellent container for ether, as is glass, stone, and (especially) crystal.  Metal is generally a poor container, but certain contraptions that contain it (clocks and mirrors especially) retain ether a lot better.  However, all those materials so far except for clay are generally not made into dolls, and unfortunately, Lucina has not figured out a way to fuse these materials into a doll to give them life.  The next best thing is wood, which is less than ideal because it used to belong to something alive (i.e. a tree); same goes for cloth.  Still, Lucina has found that woods hold onto ether decently enough to make “partial” souls that may not have as much personality or free will as those of Porcelains and Ceramics.  But because of their increased complexity, Marionettes turn out to have more free will than Woodies do.  Cloth, because of its delicate nature, tends to leak ether, and thus Ragdolls do not last very long and will periodically need “new” souls.  But curiously, the wood in Woodies and Marionettes does not decay on its own thanks to the ether, so they, along with all other dolls, are technically immortal.

Early on when the twins were experimenting with bringing the dolls to life, they got the idea to place the souls of people who have died inside dolls as a way of preserving them.  However, this did not go as expected.  When such souls were placed inside a Porcelain or Ceramic, the doll crumbled away, and when placed into a Marionette or below, they had no sense of their inherited identity.  Thus, at the time of the story, the twins have all but given on up on directly manipulating the souls of living people.

Now wait a minute, some of you may be thinking.  Sinistrina is a necromancer, correct?  And necromancy involves manipulation of souls, correct?  Well, having summoned forth the Deathly Glade, Sinistrina has the ability to channel its black mists even outside of it, which means draining and extinguishing life, bringing illness-based curses, and extracting and trapping souls.  In fact, she was the one who taught Lucina about magic in the first place, though Lucina had more of an aptitude for white magic, involving healing and bringing life, whereas Sinistrina’s proclivities were in black magic.  Later on in the story she would figure out how to preserve the souls of people inside certain materials, but the results would not be pretty.

Another thing some of you may be wondering is exactly how magic is obtained, and who can use it.  Theoretically, anyone can use magic given the right mindset, as at its core it is quite simple: a force of will, used by focusing on one’s intent and using a sort of visualization to make it happen. Therefore, one way to learn it is through study and practice, as was the case for Lucina.  Another way is through natural talent, as was the case for Sinistrina with regards to raising the dead.    And yet another way is through a supernatural entity or item - for example, a deal with the devil.  This is thought to have been the case for Krampus (see Day 4, History), who supposedly traded his soul to a demon in exchange for his magic, but that is just a myth. 

Most notably, though, is that once learned, one’s magical abilities are dependent on their identity - their personality, destiny, or whatever.  This is because the use of magic requires possession of a soul.  Therefore, it is the soul’s specific characteristics that determine how it manifests.  It is for this reason that is is extremely difficult to master magic outside one’s natural “element” - for example, white magic-user Lucina is not going to be able to place curses on people anytime soon, and try though she might, Sinistrina cannot heal people.  As Sinistrina once said in what I have written of Porcelain Wonderland so far, “control of one’s magic requires understanding oneself”.

For more details on the use of magic, refer to the Orenya section below, as there I describe the concept more generally.

Orenya

Naturally, as Orenya’s culture revolves around magic, I covered that topic in much detail in last year’s prompt.  Thinking about the topic more, I realized that the mechanics of the use of magic is practically the same in all of my universes.  This means that everything in the last paragraph of the Solevaille section applies to Orenya as well... and everything in this section will apply to Solevaille and all my other worlds as well.  This is because my magic systems are derived from actual real-world magick, which I have studied and practiced quite a bit (so it’s a case of “write what you know”).  But no world is this more evident than Orenya.

As I just mentioned at the end of the Solevaille section, magic is a force of the will, and its most important ingredient is intent.  While complicated rituals, sigils, incantations, and such do exist on Orenya, they aren’t really necessary, or even consistent.  In fact, most magic, especially the psychic techniques mentioned in last year’s prompt, is used through thought alone.  Many particularly skilled mages, such as members of the Miamin and Oradamin, use their magic this way, even for relatively complex spells.

But tools for focusing magic do help.  As was mentioned in last year’s prompt, incantations have no exact wording, the words simply helping to focus the intent needed for the spell.  But this segways into one magic tidbit unique to Orenya: the mechanics of written spells.  In last year’s language prompt, I mentioned how the ordering of words and use of certain suffixes is what distinguishes incantations from regular speech.  Therefore, if someone writes something down and words it like a spell, it is quite likely that doing so will actually cast the spell.  Underlining a phrase especially seems to increase this likelihood, whereas making an expression more wordy decreases it.  But on the plus side, this makes writing a very useful tool for consecration, especially with the advent of magic-based pens (see last year’s Technology prompt for how those work).  Also, since paper is naturally rolled up into a cylinder, a spell to flatten it out will often be written on a piece of paper; in fact, there are also consecrated charms that can do this temporarily.

Okay, now for a topic that definitely pertains to Solevaille as well:  soul work.  A couple of times I mentioned the Field of Souls in northwestern Zurem, which has a powerful curse upon it that aims to draw people’s souls out of their bodies and trap them in the crystals found throughout.  (So it’s the Orenyan equivalent of the Deathly Glade!)  Though it sounds scary, there are many instances of people exploiting this.  The most famous of these occurred during the Day-Night War, when at one point, a group of sunestre sorcerers embarked on a project to make automatons (more familiarly, golems) out of the trapped souls of their prisoners, employing them as soldiers that are harder to kill than people.  A few of them even used animating enchantments, up to and including artificial souls to achieve the same purpose.  Remind anyone of the dolls in Solevaille?

Of course, nowadays, such a practice is illegal - i.e. heavily regulated by the Oradamin.  The same goes for anything else done with the crystals.  I cannot believe I didn’t mention this in detail before, but there is a unique instrument on Orenya called the latria, which is notable for producing no sound, but rather an ethereal sort of music that plays directly into the mind and soul.  Creating one is an even more exhaustive process than what is needed for a staff and infuses particles from the magisphere, so, much like the Technology Tragedy (see last year’s History prompt), strict regulations led to there being only one latria present in the Modern Era - in the dry twilight town of Sharun.  However, during the Trading Era, many of these were created, and they were made with crystals from the Field of Souls.  Thus, a latria’s creation brings the danger of trapping the maker’s soul inside the instrument, which would kill them. Although, there have been a few sorcerers throughout history who have willingly gone into the Field of Souls to obtain a crystal for their own soul, as a form of immortality.  In the Modern Era, the Oradamin have apprehended many such sorcerers (more familiarly, liches), who, along with innocent victims of the crystals’ soul-drawing power, are brought to the Miamin to discuss what to do with the soul.

Most often, such trapped souls will be released, so that they can move on to the afterlife.  However, there are instances in which the trapped soul and their friends and/or family will come to an agreement to keep them around until they are ready to move on.  Or even for public service: one famous example of this is a necromancer brought to justice by the Oradamin who opted to have his crystallized soul power the very first “soul train” (see yesterday’s prompt on Technology for all your Orenyan train-related needs) as a public service.