#lysander mercury

[lifeofkaze]

You can never have too much soup! Until you do and then you get sick and okay I'll stop

Oh I loved this one. I know it might not look like it, considering how long this took me but trust me - I did.

Characters featured (both fully and in mention) belong to @the-al-chemist @thatravenpuffwitch @kc-and-co and @slytherindisaster

“Trust me, this is going to be funny.” “I’m not sure I share your perception of funny, old chap.” Bradford Elijah Pendleton IV swallowed uncomfortably. Nervously, he glanced to where the object of their current conversation was sitting in the shade with her friends. “It sounds dangerous, if anything.” "I must say, I agree," Jim Hexley butted in from the side, sounding as nauseous as Brady himself felt. "There's people you don't trifle with." He couldn't have said anything more wrongly. Rising to what he perceived a challenge, Lysander Mercury got to his feet from their spot in the cloisters of the clocktower courtyard and cupped his hands to his mouth. "Oi, Iceberg!" The shoulders of the witch his words were aimed at stiffened, her already pinched-looking face growing tighter still. Sighing heavily, she put down her book and shared a meaningful look with her friends. "How can I help you, Lysander?" "Go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" Carolyn Pendleton froze, the only indication that she had heard him a slight twitch in her sharply outlined eyebrows. Next to Lysander, both Brady and Jim shifted in their seats. "Pardon me?" "You head me right." Lysander grinned, stretching his arms above his head. "You, me, the Three Broomsticks. Sounds marvellous, doesn't it?" Caro inhaled deeply, a smile forming on her face that was so sweet it made Brady fight the urge to duck his head. "I'd rather dip my head in a boiling cauldron, strip down naked and run around the Black Lake in a hailstorm but thank you anyway. It was sweet of you to consider me." Lysander grimaced. "Oh, what a shame. I shall not be able to continue to live, having suffered such a blow. Except..." Screwing shut his eyes, Lysander's face began to change. His smooth skin grew deep lines around a suddenly hard mouth. His hair, golden in the sunshine, darkened to a deep brown streaked with lines of silver. Wrinkles appeared between his now bushy brows, and a stubble as well as a close-cropped beard was covering his cheeks. He cracked his neck from side to side, the long scar running from the top of his hairline to the corner of his mouth shimmering subtly in the light. His transformation complete, the image of Potions Master Aesop Sharp wiggled his eyebrows at the gaping girls. "How about now?" Caro's cheeks flashed an alarming shade of pink, pinker than Brady had ever seen them. One of her friends giggled into her hands, biting her lip upon receiving an icy look from Caro. Then, she turned her steely eyes onto Lysander. "If you, for one sliver of a moment, think..." "And what would be the meaning of this?" Lysander froze, and so did Brady, Jim, and the girls in the shade as a shadow fell over Lysander - a shadow that bore a striking resemblance to the features the young shapeshifter's face had taken. Swallowing, Lysander's face returned to its normal form in less than a heartbeat. "Nothing, Professor Sharp. I was merely trying to brighten these lovely ladies' day." "Of course you were, Mercury." Professor Sharp gave him a long look, then turned his attention to the girls, who all of a sudden sat up straighter than they had a moment before. He nodded at Caro and the witch sitting right next to her. "Nyberg, Selwyn. With me. I have need of some competent potioneers to help me catalogue the latest delivery of nightshade and moondew." Brady could have sworn the Potions Master's eyes had grazed him on the word 'competent'. Across the courtyard, Caro and her friend Adelia Selwyn almost - almost - scrambled to their feet, whispering among themselves. Brady didn't think he had ever seen Carolyn Nyberg this flustered. As the two of them hurried past Brady and his friends, Lysander couldn't help himself. His eyebrows turned dark and bushy once more, wiggling as he whistled lowly through pursed lips. If possible, Adelia and Caro walked even straighter and with their heads held high but the flush climbing up their necks was undeniable as they hurried away.

[slytherindisaster]

ethelys + enemies to lovers

for day five of OC VALENTINES CHALLENGE

stupid, brendan maclean / the beginning of a symphony, chapter 3 / total eclipse / the good lord bird / the beginning of a symphony, chapter 20 / girls freak me out, the summer set / much ado about bluffing / a lovely night, la la land / we're going on a bean hunt / catch me if you can / mainstream / game, bet, and match

The ultimate enemies to lovers love story, ethelys of course had to take this prompt. All the incredible writing and Ethel herself belong to the wonderful @the-al-chemist 💛

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 34

A/N: after an embarrassing encounter, Jim decides to face his fears at last…

Warnings: mild angst, pining.

OCs featured/mentioned: Bradford Pendleton @kc-and-co, Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster, Selene Fraser, Alan the ferret, Henry Lovecraft and Carolyn Nyberg @lifeofkaze

April 1897

It was lunchtime, but Jim wasn’t hungry. It was also time for his Art Society meting, but he was not feeling particularly creative, either. He only felt nervous, but he knew that he could not let his nerves get the better of him. So, he took a deep breath and swallowed the hard to get the knot out of his tongue.

“Very well… I’ll just say what I wish to say, then,” he said. He cleared his throat. “And, er, what I wish to say is… Well, it’s this. I’d very much like to accompany you to the ball. To the Celestial Ball. As your friend. Actually, no. Not as your friend. I mean, yes, we are friends, but I’d like for us to be more than that. And perhaps, if you’d grant me the honour of… of your company next weekend, we might make our first, um, steps in that direction. How does that suit you?”

Jim’s offer was met with silence. He sighed.

“That was no good at all, was it?” he asked. “Well, if at first you don’t… Try and try again. Right. It’s the Celestial Ball next weekend, and I know lots of people are partnering up for it, and I wondered whether you might like to partner up. With me, that is, not... So,what say you, Héloïse?”

Héloïse said nothing, because Héloïse was not there to say anything at all. Jim was merely practising asking her, and her stand-in was the only person Jim could think of who would neither judge him for his stutter, nor interrupt him whilst he was speaking. However, he could have used some constructive feedback. Perhaps he should have practised on a person rather than a ferret.

“Okay, Alan,” said Jim. “Third time lucky, yes? Well, I really do enjoy your company, and I consider you to be a very dear friend. I also think that you are… incredibly beautiful and… I’d rather like to escort you to the ball on Saturday. Only if you’d like me to, of course.” Jim sighed. “I wonder if I perhaps should not mention the beautiful thing. It’s rather… forward, don’t you think?”

In response to Jim’s question, Alan the ferret twisted around on the desk to nibble at the base of his tail. He made no noise, but somewhere nearby a snickering noise could be heard. Jim frowned. The noise was coming from behind a cupboard.

He pulled out his wand and walked towards it, and the snickering grew louder, and louder, until he came around it to find…

Ethel and Selene, sitting with their backs against the cupboard, their knees tucked up by their chests and their hands pressed to their mouths, in a poor attempt at stifling their giggles.

At the sight of his sister and her friend, Jim lowered his wand, and at the sight of him, they dropped their hands from their mouths and gave into their laughter.

“For the love of Godric,” Jim said crossly. “This isn’t… It isn’t funny!”

“Oh, but it is!”

“It really, truly is!”

The two girls laughed even harder, their eyes watery and cheeks pink.

“Stop laughing, Ethel!”

“I cannot,” Ethel wheezed. “I cannot stop. Oh, Jimmy. I did not realise you held such strong feelings for Alan.”

“I can see for why you would,” said Selene. “He is a very fine ferret.”

“A beautiful ferret, or so I’ve heard it said.”

“Indeed, I believe I have heard that said, too.”

“Unfortunately, Jim, Alan shan’t be accompanying you to the ball. He prefers to form attachments with his own species. I’d strongly suggest that you do the same,” Ethel told him. “I know that Mamma and Pappa are rather liberal in their views, but this might be too much for them to take. And I dread to think what Héloïse would think of you having such an unnatural-”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Jim snapped at his sister, far louder than he had intended. Ethel blinked, but otherwise appeared nonplussed.

“Suit yourself, Jimmy. We have far more interesting people to spend time with. Ferret-fancier or not, you still bore us terribly.”

She and Selene stood up and crossed the empty room. As they did, Selene scooped Alan the ferret up into her arms and threw a dirty look at Jim over her shoulder.

“Don’t you fret, Alan. We shall take you far away from this nasty depraved boy.”

Jim sighed loudly as he watched them disappear from sight, before picking up his things and making his way through the castle to the empty classroom where Brady and Lysander were having their meeting.

“Jim, old chap,” said Brady. “You’re late. What kept you?”

“My sister.”

“Ah.”

Lysander frowned. “What’s the matter with frog-face this time?” he asked. “Bitter that no one’s asked her to the ball?”

“I’m not sure,” Jim replied. “Someone might have asked her.”

“Really? Who?”

“I don’t… What does it matter to you? You despise Effy.”

“It doesn’t,” said Lysander quickly. “And I do. I was simply wondering whether or not we might have a lunatic in our midst, that is all.”

“I see,” Jim nodded slowly. “Have either of you two asked anyone?”

“Indeed I have, old bean. I’ll be escorting Carolyn Nyberg.”

At Brady’s announcement, Lysander’s eyebrows shot up.

“Perhaps we do have a lunatic in our midst,” he muttered. “There is a fine line between lunacy and bravery, or so they say. Carolyn Nyberg… You’re a far braver wizard than I am.”

“And me,” Jim sighed. Brady’s eyebrows furrowed, and so he explained. “I cannot even pluck up the courage to ask Héloïse.”

“Really?” Brady shook his head. “But, Jim, this is your perfect opportunity to get closer to her.”

“Yes, I am aware of that.”

“So why on earth have you not taken that opportunity in both hands? Carpe diem!”

“Precisely for that reason,” said Jim. “It is too… I feel a lot of pressure, and that makes me too nervous. I try to ask her, and then when I do, my mouth goes dry and my words get stuck and I can’t say anything at all.”

“Not even a word?”

“No. Well, yes. In a way. The other day I managed to tell her that she has lovely handwriting.”

“Ah,” Brady said. Lysander looked up from his sketch.

“Does she?” he asked.

“Does she what?”

“Have nice handwriting.”

“Oh, yes. Very nice handwriting. Small and neat and pretty and French… Like you’d expect, I suppose,” Jim told Lysander, who exchanged glances with Brady. “Um… What?”

Brady rolled his eyes and placed his head in his hands. “I simply cannot cope with this,” he said. “You must ask her.”

“But… Excuse me!”

Jim’s mouth fell open as Lysander pointed his wand at his hand, the one holding his favourite sketchbook. The sketchbook shot up into the air and hovered above Jim’s head, tantalisingly out of reach of his fingertips.

“Here’s a bargain for you, Jimbo,” Lysander said with a smirk. “You can have the sketchbook back when - and only when - you ask Héloïse to attend the Celestial Ball with you.”

“But that’s… Brady, make him see sense.”

But Brady chuckled and shook his head.

“Jim, old chap, I think Lysander is making perfect sense. You require a - pardon my French - jolly good kick up the derrière.”

“That’s…”

“The library is two corridors away. If you hurry, you’ll have a companion for the Celestial Ball and your sketchbook back by the time we start afternoon lessons.”

Both Lysander and Brady’s faces were earnest, and Jim knew that there was no persuading either of them to give him back his sketchbook, not until he had done what he had so far failed to do. He sighed angrily, as frustrated with himself as he was with his friends.

“Go on, old chap. Be bold.”

“Carpet demon,” said Lysander, and Brady put his head in his hands again.

Jim left them alone and walked through the two corridors to the library, his heart beating faster and his feet growing heavier with each step. He was not ready for this, he would never be ready for this. What if he was unable to get his words out again? What if he did, and she laughed at him? What if she said no? Oh, Godric… What if she said yes?

He found Héloïse in a quiet corner of the library, far from the noise that was coming from the librarian’s desk, where his sister was pestering Madam Khanna about something, he did not care what. At this moment, he cared bout nothing but managing to be bold, to ask Héloïse to attend the ball with him, and getting his sketchboook back from Lysander.

“Héloïse,” he said as he approached her. Slowly, she raised her brown eyes from her astrology textbook and regarded him with a look of curiosity.

“Jim. Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, Héloïse.”

There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke. Jim swallowed hard three times and cleared his throat.

“Héloïse, I was wondering…”

“To what… Sorry. I am… intruding your speaking.”

“No, I’m sorry,” said Jim. “You continue.”

“I was to ask why you are here, but I think you are now to tell me,” Héloïse said with a wry little smile. “What have you wondered?”

This was it. Jim’s chance. He had to take it. He had to be bold.

“I wondered whether anyone had already asked to accompany you to the Celestial Ball, and if no, then whether you might allow me to accompany you.”

Jim spoke faster than he had intended. It potentially was too fast, for Héloïse frowned as if she had not understood his meaning.

“You are wanting to… escort me to the ball?” she asked, and Jim nodded.

“Yes. Yes, indeed. I… It would be my privilege. Only if you wish to do me that honour, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Jim was half-hope, half-achingly deep despair and longing.

“I… Jim, this would be nice.”

His heart skipped a beat. “It would?”

“Yes,” Héloïse smiled sadly. “But… Unfortunately, I cannot to go with you. I am sorry. I have promised to my friend Henry that I will to go with him. I did not think… I am sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” said Jim. He forced himself to return Héloïse’s smile, in spite of the fact that he felt more like crying. “A promise is a promise, and… I am sorry.”

“Why?”

“For… asking, I suppose. I hope that this shall not ruin our… our friendship.”

“Friendship, yes,” Héloïse nodded. She swallowed and looked down at her book. “I must to study.”

“I must to go… I must be going. I shall see you soon. At the ball, maybe.”

Héloïse said nothing in response, just stared at her book, already clearly engrossed in it. Jim walked away from her, focusing on the sound of his footsteps echoing on the floor of the library, for her knew that if he did not focus on something, his thoughts would fly to Héloïse, and then he would look back. And if he looked back, then the tears that pricked his eyes would start to run away from him, and he would start to cry in front of everyone.

And if that happened, he might never be able to be bold again.

[usernoneexistent]

Autumn 1895: Ravenclaws and Gryffindors play a friendly game together while Glenn plots on how to distract the opposing team's keeper and his rival, Nolan.

Characters featured: Nolan Miller @hogwartsmysteryho, Oliver Gerard @kc-and-co, Ethel Hexley @the-al-chemist.

Characters mentioned: Selene Fraser @lifeofkaze, Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster, Daniel Gibson @catohphm, Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-and-co.

Warnings: mentions of Sethel

"That was a foul!"

"Not again, Miller," cried his teammate. Ravenclaw looked like they were having a tough time with their reserve keeper. Glenn minded little, except for Nolan Miller's incompetence which was getting on his nerves. He wanted a nice clean, and fair game, which shouldn't be a hard ask. Especially since Hexley and Fraser made the least amount of trouble on the quidditch field.

As all the quidditch teams have completed their tryouts and added new members to make up for the lost ones, his friend and captain, Oliver Gerard, made a deal with Ravenclaw to share the pitch for a quidditch friendly due to an accidental mishandling of the reservations. It allowed the reserves to keep up with the practice.

"He wasn't haversaking Miller. Sorry guys, let's have a rematch." The Ravenclaw captain called with the quaffle under his arm, returning it back to the referee. He was getting all the different balls back in the box before re-releasing them.

Both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw team groaned out loud before flying back into their respective position.

"Augh! I wish Miller wouldn't spoil the game so much. He's worse than Lys and Hexley." Glenn groaned.

"Miller may be annoying but he is also their weakest link, Rosewood." Oliver flew beside him. "Besides you know how to get to him fumble better than anyone else."

"Well, he is only a reserve. It's not like he will affect the big matches."

"And so are you." Oliver retorted back, almost in a backhanded way. Glenn groaned at him before focusing back on the game.

"As much as I would love to give my sole attention on quidditch I have other duties to attend to."

"Ah yes, becoming the number one prefect that Gryffindor has ever seen. You're doing a great job at that." He teased.

"Be quiet, Gerard."

Oliver laughed before everyone was finally settled and ready to go. The referee opens the box of quaffle, bludgers and snitch, and the opposing team grabs the quaffle first.

Oliver and Glenn swerved to either side of the chaser, trying to hold her in. Hexley followed behind, blocking the other Ravenclaw chasers.

"Scatter!" Hexley yelled. Glenn took a quick glance to see why. A bludger was incoming at a rapid speed. There was no way that any beater could come in time to defend the chasers.

Glenn and Oliver abandoned the chaser. The bludger came at lightning speed before almost knocking the Ravenclaw chaser down. He dropped the quaffle just as Glenn had hoped.

Hexley was sharper and quickly swooped down to grab the quaffle before any of the Ravenclaw chasers had a chance. She shot straight towards the hoops, already crossing the midline of the pitch.

Glenn and Oliver followed quickly behind. Fraser and Daniel Gibson were in a chase below them for the snitch. Glenn was hoping they would stall a little more. It would be annoying to end the game so quickly without even putting in a score.

"Rosewood!" Hexley yelled as Glenn got close. He saw it too. Siobhan Llewelyn was ready to swing the bludger towards Hexley's broom with her stick, and he knew what she wanted to do. Oliver swooped in and blocked any other chasers interrupting her pass.

With a good throw, the quaffle landed heavily on his hand before almost dropping the ball. He groaned slightly in pain when he saw Hexley give a slight smirk. 

Nolan looked ready, prepared for Glenn to come. He swerved about, trying to cover all the hoops.

"I would take a heads up if I were you," Glenn warned, but Nolan smirked.

"I'm not falling for it this time, Rosewood." He shifted lower to block the bottom hoops.

Perfect.

Glenn made his arm look like it was going to throw down, but at the last second, he made an overarm throw at the tallest loop.

Nolan swiftly moved his broom up, but it was too late. The quaffle smoothly sailed through the hoop.

"That's ten points to Gryffindor." The commentator stated.

Glenn smirked broadly at Miller. The Ravenclaw pretended not to be shocked by Glenn's tactic and muttered excuses about why it wasn't his fault.

"Well done, Rosewood." Oliver complimented. "Figure you would be able to fool Miller."

"He's a fool." He said. "Which is a shame. If his incompetnece weren't in the way the game would be more interesting."

[peach-au-barca]

Darrow is such a diva

“We brush away light resistance at the drowned storm god” says Darrow O’Lykos as Lysander au Lune describes what to him is the most harrowing fight during his time on Mercury and then proceeding to have his eye burnt out of his skull.

This will NEVER fail to make me laugh.

[gh0st2626]

Darrow and Mustang Reunion

 just finished re-reading LB and realized how much I wanted a proper reunion. Since Red God is still probably a year away, I wrote a quick reunion scene. Thought I would share it here. This is supposed to take place after LB somewhere in the beginning of RG.

Darrow-Path Back Home

It had been a few hours since we landed back on Mars. After rendezvousing with the remnants of the Republic Fleets, we had tried to open communications with Mars but the enemy interference along with Mars shields had made that impossible. Sevro and I had taken the Archimedes to sneak back to Mars so we can co-ordinate an assault on Phobos with the remaining ships grounded on Mars. The lack of Lysander's and the Rim's fleet along with our upgraded stealth tech made the endeavor a lot safer than it would have been after the battle of Phobos.

It was the middle of the night by the time we got to Agea, and I have instructed Holiday to wait till tomorrow before announcing our return. Now, I walk alone in the hallways of the Augustus estate towards my wife’s room.

I step into her room silently and slowly close the door behind me. The site of my wife sleeping on her bed causes my breath to catch. How my times have I thought that I would never get this moment again. To hold her in my arms again. Now she lays just a few steps away, and my path has finally led me back to her.

The room is dark, with the only illumination coming from the light sneaking past the curtains at the window and my wife’s data pad on the nightstand. My wife lies at the far edge of the bed with her back towards me. She wears a simple white tunic, with her golden hair spooled behind her.  Not wanting to wake her up I silently slide into her bed before catching site of my wife slowly inching her hand towards a hidden compartment in the nightstand and pulling out a razor. Not wanting to startle her I whisper, “Lo wife”. She stiffens and let's go of the razor she was holding. A tremor goes through her body as I put my arm around her and pull her close. I kiss her on the back of her neck and smell her hair. She turns to me slowly and I see tears in her beautiful golden eyes. She reaches her hand and cups my cheek and then pinches it, as if to make sure that I am real. I stare into her eyes in silence before she kisses me. It is a long but gentle kiss. She holds her lips to mine reluctant to let go till we both run out of breath. She pulls back and I let her catch her breath before I give her a hungry kiss. I pull her to me and start to peel her tunic off. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I finally feel the weight of the worlds slipping off my shoulders. Here, sharing her warmth, I finally know that I am home.   

I wake to the sight to my wife sleeping beside me with her head on my bare chest and her leg coiled around me. We had not gotten any sleep till late in the morning. After our fun, I told her about all that has happened to me these past couple of years and she had told me about all that has happened to her. Though I had known most of it through the data packets and holo-messages that she had sent to me. Hearing it from her now finally pressed upon me the full weight of the hell she had suffered since I left Luna on the damnable night. Hesitant to wake her up, I lightly trace the scars that the mob had given her from her neck to her back, her hips all the way down to her legs. I feel my rage build with each scar that brushes my fingers, but I take a deep breath and let the rage exhale out of me just like the book said. The mob did not deserve this woman. I… do not deserve this woman. But she had made her choice years ago, and back on Mercury I had promised myself that I would be the husband and father that my wife and son deserve. So I will not close myself off to her again.

 My wife stirs and flutters her piercing golden eyes open to peer at me with incandescent love and contentment. She starts as she looks at the light coming in through the window. “What time is it?’ she asks as she reaches for her data pad on the nightstand. “Shit” she curses. "I had a meeting with the praetors two hours ago". I take her data pad out of her hands and message Holliday to cancel all her meetings for the day. “The Sovereign has a day off today”. I say with a smile. “But.." she starts. “Mars has held for months. One more day won’t make a difference”. I say before she can protest. I hesitate “besides…I need my wife with me today”. She looks at me in surprise and then smiles with so much joy that it makes my heart skip a beat.

She gets off the bed and stretches like a cat before heading towards the bathroom. My eyes follow her as she goes. At the bathroom door she looks back over her shoulder with a smirk, catches my eye and winks before heading in and motioning for me to follow.

I wait a few moments before I close my eyes and feel the lingering warmth that my wife left on the bed. I breadth in her scent and remember what Roque had once said to me. “Home isn't where you're from; it's where you find light when all grows dark.” I had not realized that even back then she had been my light in the darkness. Through a decade of war, the hell of Mercury, the prison that was Marcher-1632 and my journey across the solar system, she has been the light that kept me going. So, I get off the bed and follow after her, to follow my path back home.

PS: This is the first fan-fic i have written so don't be too harsh lol. All constructive criticism is welcome.

[violethowler]

Thoughts on Atlas and Adrius

One of the things I realized while reading Light Bringer is that Atlas is a foil of The Jackal.

Both of them are Golds from families dating back to the Conquering, who oppose Darrow and have reputations for brutal and/or depraved methods – Atlas with his impaling of Republic soldiers on Mercury and ordering his Gorgons to rape Darrow in DA, The Jackal with his cannibalism.

Both are aligned with The Society but have their own faction of loyal followers – the Gorgons and the Boneriders – and even their own ostensible allies dislike and/or fear them.

Each of their respective groups also survived a harrowing experience together cut off from civilization – The Jackal and his Boneriders survived being buried underground together at The Institute, while Atlas and the Gorgons survived being marooned in the Kuiper belt in an endless guerilla war against the Ascomanni.

Both of them specialize in psychological warfare and manipulation – Adrius with his media ownership and things like MS mentioning him deliberately trying to make Darrow think Virginia betrayed him before he puts Darrow in The Box. Atlas with how he lured the Rim into the war and sent Xenophon to lead Sefi away from the Republic, etc.

Both of them also deliberately associate their factions with imagery designed to evoke fear and/or disgust – Atlas having his and the Gorgons’ armor covered in the faces of screaming children, Adrius and the Boneriders wearing the bones of their fallen enemies.

Both of them grow up separated from their siblings after the age of ten, and play a direct role in orchestrating the circumstances that lead to one of their older brothers’ deaths – Adrius paid Karnus to “sully” Claudius’s girlfriend, knowing that Claudius would challenge Karnus to a duel and get killed. Atlas used The Syndicate to sell the footage of Darrow destroying the docks to the Rim, which led to Dido’s coup and Romulus’ subsequent trial and death.

Both of them betray the family they were born into – Atlas with his attack on the Rim in LB, Adrius with the triumph massacre in GS – as well as the Gold they are allied with to carry out said initial betrayal – Atlas decides to betray Atalantia by putting Lysander in the role of his savior of the Rim plan, and Adrius attempts to usurp Octavia.

Both of them stab their ostensible allies in the back after they achieve victory in a battle around Mars – Adrius orchestrated the Triumph massacre at the end of GS after Darrow’s Iron Rain, Atlas launched his attack on the Rim after Lysander took control of Phobos.

Both of them also exterminate all but a limited number of a major Gold house of The Conquering and pin the blame on another party before the deception is eventually exposed and the aggrieved party changes sides to fight alongside Darrow against The Society: The Boneriders massacre all of House Bellona except Cassius and Julia and pin the blame on Darrow, with the discovery of the truth being used to flip Cassius over to Darrow’s side in MS. The Ascomanni invasion of the Rim was painted as the work of an independent warlord with no ties to either Darrow or the Society, but Diomedes and Darrow expose his involvement and flip not only the the Rim but also the Volk to the Republic’s side.

Both of them are killed in the third book of their respective part of the Saga without Darrow ever facing either of them in a direct one-on-one fight (at least not on-page in Atlas’ case. Who knows what happened during the war pre-IG).

And on top of all that, both of their factions demonstrate such a deep degree of loyalty that they’re willing to carry out their orders even after they die – Lilath and the Boneriders keep going with the plans to clone Adrius and place The Abomination as emperor of Luna even a decade after death. Meanwhile the constant references in LB to how Atlas “may be mortal but his work is not”, and that he trusts his operatives so much that they operate in Ilium on a perfect coms blackout, makes it extremely likely that Atlas has prepared contingency plans for the Gorgons to follow in case of his own demise just like The Jackal did.

But Adrius was only focused on himself and his own desires and glory, doing everything he did for either survival or personal gain. Neither he nor his Boneriders had any cause beyond doing whatever the hell they wanted, while Atlas and the Gorgons had a cause and did everything they did because they genuinely believe in the preservation and restoration of The Society as an institution.

Meanwhile the most prominent of their followers – both of whom use the same “horde of locusts” imagery to scramble their hologram appearances on comms – make deviations from Atlas and Adrius’s plans because of their own personal biases. Lilath edited parts of the information about The Jackal given to the clone because the reality of Adrius’s life and upbringing didn’t fit her personal image of him. Meanwhile Vagnar spares Thalia despite Atlas’s orders because of his own attachment to Volga and desire for his granddaughter to love him.

But unlike Lilath, whose decision fundamentally altars the Abomination’s psychological development, Vagnar’s deviations have no serious impact on the larger goal. If not for Lysander deciding to keep her as a potential future marriage option, all Vagnar would’ve done was buy Thalia a few extra days or life with no impact on the Gorgons’ larger plans whatsoever.

[thatbostonbooknerd]

Brother

When the Golds spoke of the void, they spoke of darkness. Not a darkness where you lived and breathed, but one where there was simply nothing.

And at first, it seems like that.

Because after the pain, after a man he called brother emptied his bullets into Cassius, there is only darkness. Darkness, and silence, and loss.

He lost his whole family. He lost Lysander, even after he thought he'd finally got him back. He lost Darrow and Sevro and Lyria and Diomedes and all the people he wanted so badly to believe in him. He wouldn't change a thing, wouldn't walk away from that moment to save himself, but in the darkness of the void he feels so very alone. And he wonders if this is all there is left for him now--darkness, and silence, and loss?

But then the darkness gives way. A faint light, so faint that at first he thinks it's some kind of mirage. Like a man wandering in the deserts of Mercury, convinced he's found water, only to be disappointed.

This is no mirage. The light grows, and Cassius reaches for it. It blinds him, but he moves closer, until he emerges somewhere else entirely. He doesn't bother to take stock of his surroundings, however, because he finds himself flat on his back staring up at a face he never thought to look upon again.

Golden hair and a grin so earnest it breaks his heart, the man stares down at him.

"Julian?" he asks, voice unsteady with hope. Even knowing the void was all that waited after death, he had often imagined seeing his twin again. He had wondered what he might find in Julian's eyes when he did - would he ever understand Cassius calling his killer a brother?

But there is no recrimination in the eyes staring down at him.

"I did tell Darrow you were the best man I knew," Julian says with so much pride it makes Cassius ache. "I should have known you'd prove me right."

[dualquille]

Red God prediction - Red Rising

I’m calling it right now - Lysander will use the Red cube on Mars. He favors Gold too much to use it on them (ex. When he chose Seraphina over all those lowColors in Iron Gold). Deanna, Kieran, and all the rest of Darrow’s Red family on Mars will die. (Pax will survive this.) Rhonna will survive because she is ALIVE and on Mercury (there’s no way she just quietly disappeared forever imo). Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[darrowsrising]

Lysander should be humilliated and/or killed by Rhonna, because she has been infantillised and disrespected and deserves self-made justice the most. She can maybe share with Lyria and get Darrow Mercury, but that is it. Red Justice all the way.

[lifeofkaze]

Flight or Fancy

A/N: This story was written for the April prompt of the @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge. Ethel Hexley and Madam Khanna (in mention) belong to @the-al-chemist, Lysander Mercury to @slytherindisaster, Ema McGilliguddy (in mention) and Professor MacMillan to @kc-and-co

It had all started very harmlessly, really. 

Like most of their peers, Selene and Ethel had spent their afternoon in the library, preparing for their end-of-year exams. They had worked hard on their studies, so that after several hours of revising Transfiguration laws, incantations, and Potion recipes, Ethel had suggested they take the well-deserved break they were obviously due.

To give their plagued minds some respite, the two aspiring young witches had found their way to the poetry section of the library and were soon immersed in their favourite works. Their vigour renewed, they carried their pickings back to their table, reciting poignant passages back to one another as they went. 

Ethel was of the strong opinion that poetry wasn’t something to be merely read - it was something to be experienced. So when a particularly riveting stanza gripped her, she and Selene climbed upon the long table running between the bookshelves, marching back and forth with books in hand and calling their partly bewildered, partly resigned-looking fellow students to rise in the fight against oppression and tyranny. 

Madam Khanna, the librarian, evidently didn’t share their enthusiasm.

Some angry remarks, an outraged discussion, and two temporary library bans later, Ethel and Selene had found themselves equipped with weekly detention until the end of term, which was exactly where the two of them were currently spending their time.

With the impending exams, the temper in the student body had run high lately, so the classroom where detention was held was fuller than usual. Sighing, Ethel looked gloomily at the half-filled parchment in front of her.

‘I shalt not recite poetry whilst marching upon furniture. I shalt not call my peers to revolution. I shalt not call any member of the staff an operative of an oppressive system,’ stood there in neat lines, just as it did on the stack of parchment next to her. Ethel snorted to herself. As if she had done anything condemnable. What harm had she done, even? Wasn’t it the point of school to equip themselves with the means to scrutinise established truths? They really should make up their minds about this and not let her suffer the effects of their inconsistencies.

Looking up, she caught the eye of Selene, who had been several tables away from Ethel. They had shared a seat in the beginning, like they were wont to do, but Professor Ronen, the Charms teacher overseeing their detention, had soon put a stop to that and created as much space between the two friends as the room would allow; another thing Ethel thought simply outrageous.

The busy scratching of quills on parchment was broken when the door to the classroom swung open, and Professor Hecat, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, poked her head inside. Professor Ronen immediately rose from his seat to meet her. A few subdued words were passed between them, then Ronen turned and pointed at Selene and a girl with light brown hair, big eyes, and emerald green robes.

“Misses Fraser and McGilliguddy, you are to help Professor Hecat prepare her lessons. You are dismissed.”

Giving Ethel an apologetic look, Selene gathered up her things and followed Ema McGilliguddy and Professor Hecat from the room. Ethel watched after them with dismay. She and Selene had wanted to head for the Quidditch pitch for some broom racing after detention, but helping the old witch would take forever. 

Her plans for the rest of the day thwarted for good, Ethel quietly huffed, dipping her quill into her inkwell with more force than strictly necessary. Everything about this was so entirely unfair.

“Hexley.”

Ethel stiffened. Just what she needed right now.

“Hexley.”

Ethel gritted her teeth, stubbornly adding another line to her steadily filling page. 

“Hey, Hexley!”

“I can’t hear you, Lysander,” she muttered, the slight lilt to her voice doing nothing to mask her annoyance. 

“With those ears of yours? Improbable.”

“What do you want?” Ethel growled, turning sharply in her seat to glower at the grinning boy behind her. Before Lysander Mercury could reply, however, the sound of Professor Ronen clearing his throat echoed through the classroom. 

“Does there seem to be a problem, Miss Hexley?”

“No, Professor,” Ethel said, glaring at Lysander one last time before turning in her seat again. “Everything’s in perfect order.” 

Giving her a warning look, Professor Ronen turned back to his exam papers. 

“As subtle as an Erumpent in a china shop,” Lysander’s amused snicker reached Ethel’s ear a moment later. “And about as elegant.”

“And about as effective at crushing you. Care to let me try?”

“You’d have to catch me first. They do say I’m quite swift.”

“What the mind lacks…”

“Enough to beat you on the pitch, though.”

“Sure, by cheating.”

“Not what the referee said.”

“Oh, go stick a quill up your nose.”

“How witty.”

“I’m done having this conversation,” Ethel declared, making to turn back around. She stopped when Lysander leaned across his table toward her.

“You don’t want to know my secret, then?”

“Is it about how to grow yourself a brain?”

“Why, are you in need of one?”

Ethel rolled her eyes. “Just tell me already and let me enjoy my detention in peace.”

Smirking, Lysander leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to tell you anymore.”

Ethel opened her mouth in outrage. “You cannot be serious.”

“I can assure you that I am.”

“Then I, in turn, can assure you that I do not care,” Ethel answered stuffily, returning her attention to her parchment. She paused, turning back to Lysander a moment later.

“You know it’s incredibly impolite to vex me so.”

“So you do care.” 

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“Yes, it absolutely is.”

Lysander’s grin was wiped off his face when Ethel drew her wand and pointed it at his inkwell. It rose above the drawing Lysander had been working on instead of doing lines, slowly tipping to the side.

“You don’t want to do that, Hexley.”

“I most certainly do.” 

Ethel could see the cogs turning in Lysander’s probably rather dusty brain as he attempted to take her measure. Having come to a conclusion, he leaned in and conspiratorially whispered:

“Fine, I’ll tell you. I know how to get out of here.”

Ethel stared. “How?” 

Lysander looked like a Kneazle before a bowl of cream. “You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

“Evidently. Your idiotic plans never fail to amuse me.”

“It’s not idiotic, it’s infallible.”

“Naturally.”

“So, do you want to know or not?”

Ethel felt like a headache was coming. “I do.” 

A self-contented sigh left Lysander’s lips. “What do I get for telling you?”

The inkwell floated a little higher. “Not this against your forehead.”

“Not a very appealing offer.”

“Because it wasn’t an offer. Tell me now, or leave me alone.”

“Very well.” His eyes - today of a distinct turquoise colour - sparkled as he leaned a little closer. “Do what you do best - watch me.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Lysander drew his wand and pointed it at the teacher’s desk. His lips moving in a silent incantation, the stacks of paperwork on Professor Ronen’s desk exploded up towards the ceiling, dancing in a vortex around him on their way down.

The classroom erupted in laughter, and even Ethel couldn’t help but bite back a chuckle at the sight of the red-cheeked professor trying to snatch his elusive exam papers from the air. When she turned in her seat to say something to Lysander, however, she found that he had disappeared.

Her brows drew together in a frown. It was just like Lysander to promise her a way out and then leave her behind without so much as a word. Much to her astonishment, there was a small but distinct sting of something that felt almost like disappointment.

Just as Professor Ronen had gathered his scrolls of parchment and righted his hat, the classroom door opened once more. This time, the red-haired head of Professor MacMillan, one of the Herbology teachers and head of Ravenclaw House, appeared in the doorway. 

“Abraham, I will need to abduct Miss Hexley,” the teacher smiled good-heartedly. “There appear to be some pests in Greenhouse Two. They are making the worst clamour with my pots. I need Miss Hexley’s excellent hearing abilities to identify their whereabouts.” 

Where Ethel had been astounded to hear Professor MacMillan request her assistance before, she now bit down on her lip hard. She stiffly rose from her seat, handed her parchment to Professor Ronen and stalked from the room.

“A pest problem, really?” she snorted as soon as the door had closed behind her.

Professor MacMillan, whose eyes had begun turning from greyish-blue to turquoise again, grinned. 

“It’s intense. I swear, their presence seems to have intensified this very second.” 

Ethel took a deep breath. “I will have you know that -”

She came no further because, from within the classroom, an angry cry could be heard.

“Hexley! Mercury!”

Lysander, whose once more fair hair still carried streaks of red, swallowed.

“Uh oh,” he said, laughing as he ducked his head. “Time to go, Hexley.”

Before Ethel could object, Lysander grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her behind him and away from the classroom door in which Professor Ronen had appeared. Ethel didn’t hear what he was calling after them anymore, her ears filled with the pounding of hers and Lysander’s steps on the ancient flagstone floor. 

It took them about the time they needed to round two corners before their flight turned into a race. Ethel and Lysander were almost of a height, and Ethel glanced at him only briefly as she sped up to overtake him. Lysander did the same, trying to push her to the side as they skirted around corners and almost jumped down steps and stairs in vast, uncontrolled strides.

Soon, both of them were breathing heavily, and by the time they reached a spiral staircase that led both down into the dungeons and up in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, parts of Ethel’s hair had come undone, and Lysander’s cheeks were flushed a vivid red.

“You… lost… Hexley,” he panted, supporting his weight on his legs with his hands. The way he smirked at her through the strands of hair that had fallen into his face made Ethel jut her chin forward, even though her sides were stinging so badly she could hardly stand.

“You know what… they say… Mercury,” she said between two gulps of aid. “The last… shall be… first.”

“At least that way… you’ll win at least… this once.”

Ethel pushed herself off the wall she had been resting against, smoothing down the skirt of her uniform and glaring at Lysander. They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them so much as blinking. Then, Lysander ran a hand over his tousled hair before holding it out to Ethel.

“Well, that was fun.”

Ethel looked at his outstretched hand with a mixture of wariness and disgust.

“It absolutely wasn’t.”

“Just say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.”

“For what?” said Ethel stubbornly. “For dragging me around the castle without my consent?”

Lysander narrowed his eyes. “You’re insufferable, Hexley.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Just so you’re aware - me helping you, that was a one-off.”

“It’d better was.”

Shrugging, Lysander turned to go. As he set foot onto the steps leading into the bowels of the castle, he looked over his shoulder.

“So, until next time?”

Rolling her eyes, Ethel turned in the opposite direction and stomped away. She was almost out of sight when she paused and looked back at Lysander, who stood exactly where she had left him.

“Until next time.”

[slytherindisaster]

Lysander Mercury as Vincent van Gogh's paintings~

Thank you, @cursebreakerfarrier, for reminding me that today is this dork birthday, too 💙😅

[the-al-chemist]

An ask for Ethelys please 💙

Thanks for asking!!!

Who leaves their stuff around?

They both do. Certain parts of their house are covered in books, half-finished sketches, first drafts of essays, pencils… You name it!

Who cleans up?

Ethel’s mum. They could’ve got a House Elf, but Ethel was against the idea of an indentured slave. She figured that her mother, however, could do with a hobby.

[usernoneexistent]

Autumn 1895: Colin catches on that Winona seems to be onto him, does he reveal what he knows or will Winona tell him first?

Characters featured: Albert Burke @madelineorionswan.

Characters mentioned: Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster.

Warnings: mention of social anxiety, carnivorous plants.

"Colin?" Albert Burke Wyevernbush, his best friend, nudged him.

"What?" He whispered back, taking a quick check that professor Binns was too busy occupied by goblin rebellions. Colin heard enough tales about them from fellow Goblins from the recent rebellion in 1890.

"Winona has been staring at you again. Do you think she knows?" Albert proffered. Colin sheepishly glanced over at them from desks that the Gryffindor girl occupied with her friend. The girl quickly turned her head around, caught in the act.

Albert may be very well right. Colin did have the inkling that Winona was onto him, the increasing stares at him. At first, he wants to be sure that he is being paranoid, but Albert may have confirmed his worst fear. Particularly from Winona Rosewood and, last night Lysander, his Hufflepuff dormmate. Colin woke up in the night feeling Lysander's blue gaze right through, exactly like back in second year.

It made Colin wrought with worry and anxiety. Numerous times, his heart palpitated rapidly as he felt them getting closer to the truth, especially from Lysander. No, maybe they already knew the truth after all; everyone knew that the cousins were as thick as thieves.

"I dare hope not, Bertie," Colin muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Albert to hear.

At lunch, he and Albert hid in the Herbology greenhouses. While the fanged geraniums don't make the most pleasant of companies, it is undoubtedly more comfortable than the eyes of the students at the great hall. Professor MacMillan had been kind enough to let them as long as they helped with watering and caring for the plants.

Knocks rapped on the glass door.

"Hello?" A head peaked out.

The curious eyes of the Gryffindor girl wandered around the exotic plants reserved for the more advanced students before meeting his matching eyes.

"Hello, Colin. I was wondering if we could converse on a private matter." Her eyes glanced over to Albert.

"Um...you can say whatever you have to say to me in front of Bertie. I hold no secrets from him."

"Alright then," Winona murmured as she narrowly avoided getting bitten by the carnivorous plant. She sat neatly down on the stool. "So, I don't know how to say this..."

She paused, carefully considering her following words. Bertie edged on his seat with suspense, staring between the two.

"So, I have discovered of recent..." She fiddled with her thumbs. Colin held his breath. Will she say it, or will she not? "That my father had a child out of wedlock."

Her hazel eyes studied Colin's face to see his reaction. He hoped that he was not coming across as unfavourable.

"That child was you, Colin." Her lips seemed to purse tightly. She seemed nervous, not what Colin had expected.

"Aye, I ken." Colin finally showed a small smile.

Winona stared at him in disbelief. "You already knew? Wait, for how long? Why did you never say anything?"

"I knew for the entire time," Colin answered, fiddling with his fingers. "Ma told me about ma father but always told me to keep ma mouth shut. Especially at Hogwarts."

"Well, now that we both know, it's so good to have another brother," Winona spoke with excitement.

"I guess it's nice to have a sister," Colin already warmed up to the idea. He knew he was going against his mother's wishes; however, in his defence, Winona, his sister who he can now call her, was the one to approach him.

"And another brother too." He added, referring to Glenn Rosewood. Though Colin always found the older Gryffindor as an imitating force. Constantly berating and taking points from anyone in line.

The Gryffindor girl's brows furrowed in. "Another brother?"

Colin pointed to Bertie, half excited and half worried for him. "He's not my brother by blood, but I consider him one. This is Albert Burke."

Albert gave a slight wave to Winona.

"Hello," he said quietly.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you," Winona replied warmly. "I don't think I have seen you around before, Albert."

"You can call me Bertie, and no I don't believe we have met properly."

"Well, it's lovely making your acquaintance, Bertie." Colin felt his smile creep up as Bertie blushed brightly when Winona used his nickname. They didn't have many friends, and while Colin was comfortable with his small circle, he knew Bertie wanted to expand his friendship circle a little more.

"Rosewood. Winona, I mean?" Colin clarified. His mouth felt weird, and being on a first-name basis with his sister was strange.

"Yes, Colin?"

"Does your brother...I mean our brother know?"

"No."

"Lysander?"

Winona only nodded her head, laughing a little. "Was my dear cousin that obvious?"

"Yes." Colin sounded a little grumpy. "He better not going and tell everyone about our blood ties."

"Don't worry, he is my best secret keeper. Well, we didn't perform the actual curse however he keeps all my secret as I do for him." Winona corrected herself.

The bell rang, and Colin could hear some students gathering outside.

"You better leave before anyone...you know."

"Right, cause men and women can be left alone." She scoffed but was ready to leave with a smile. "I'll see you both around."

"Yeah...see you around," Colin awkwardly waved.

"Be careful of the-" Bertie warned, yet it was too late.

"Merlin's beard! Get off of me!"

"Fanged geraniums..."

Bertie faded out. Winona was in a tug-of-war with the carnivorous plant. Colin and Bertie rushed to help and pulled her arm away, but the red plant held a chunk of fabric between their teeth.

Winona looked horrified at the shredded robe before letting out a peal of loud laughter. Colin was hesitant at first, wondering if she was hurt but slowly joined in the absurdity. Bertie followed, laughing at the fanged geraniums, who, in turn, Colin mused, must be looking back at them confused but he didn't care. He had gained a sister that day.

Previous story: Secret Keeper

[insignificant457]

Okay I'll bite, why do you think Virginia will step down as sovereign and who do you think will replace her?

Related thought: I was very into the idea of splitting the solar system into spheres of influence when Diomedes suggested it. Obviously his initial approach was naive. But it seems like a natural progression for the story, so I wouldn't be surprised if a Triumvirate does end up happening. Just need to pick a better third than 🙄Lysander🙄

Thank you for biting lol. The answer is Holiday!

I think it’s been foreshadowed quite a bit that Virginia will step down as sovereign once the war is done. In IG she tells Darrow that maybe after her term is up she won’t run for office again, and in DA when she’s escaping the citadel she vows that it’s the second to last time she leaves it, so clearly she’s had enough of the sovereigncy. And, to be honest, it seems many of the people have had enough of her. Yes the day of red doves was instigated by lilath and the abomination, but there had to have been resentment building for it to go off the way it did. And also, my girl deserves a BREAK. If she and Darrow both live they are heading off to a cabin in the middle of nowhere like “no one ever bother us again please and thank you.”

As for Holiday specifically as the replacement, I think it’s been foreshadowed as well. In DA, we find out she’s been reading Silenus’s meditations on Virginia’s recommendation, and Virginia says this:

And then in LB, she gives a rousing speech to what remains of the high command and victra says this:

We’ve seen her pull away from the howlers and more into virginias confidence over the last few books, and I think these two things could be setting her up as a replacement sovereign (or, honestly, a leader under a different title, as a signal that they are moving further away from the society).

And honestly, I think holiday would be a great candidate. She’s intelligent, level headed, firm but willing to compromise, humble without being a pushover. She’s an important figure in the initial rising, a long time son of ares, and she’s also got a legion military background, so I think she’s in a unique position to understand both the supporters and the skeptics of the republic.

She also has absolutely no desire for that kind of power, which is one of the qualities that make the best leaders, because she won’t become power hungry and abuse her position. And most importantly, she’s not a member of the previous ruling class. If the republic ever wants to move forward with true equality, they can’t keep handing the reigns from gold to gold to gold.

I also think, assuming Virginia lives and steps down willingly, she’d be a great confidante to holiday and be able to help her bear the weight of all those people. She’s mentioned how lonely the morning chair is, and I think she’d be more than willing to be an understanding ear if holiday took it over, since they’ve become so close.

Also, yeah, the spheres of influence really intrigued me when diomedes brought it up, especially since we saw how so many of the citizens of mercury were vehemently against the rising. I could see someone else (not Lysander obviously, as I suggested maybe Cicero since he got more focus than I expected this time around and he seems fed up with war already and more willing to lay down arms than, say, Julia au Bellona) ruling the core with some version of the hierarchy still intact but without the unwilling subjugation of anyone who doesn’t actively choose to, as diomedes said “give up their freedom in exchange for security.” Idk it doesn’t seem ideal, but this series is all about exploring the little gray areas.

[chatte-noire]

tho8ghts on darrow and lysanders ☆stagenames☆

darrow is MORNING STAR

lysander is LIGHT BRINGER

those warsonas are also 2 aliases of LUCIFER. eh lucifer morningstar, lucifer the lightbringer etc etc.

so what kind of parallel does this create?

darrow and lysander as... two sides of the same coin ( ?

.. different incarnations of the devil? they sure are war criming enough for that symbolism

.. their fall from grace? tbh darrow crawled out of the gutter more iconically and more often. lysander just had his desert moment thats not lucifer fall from heaven-material but lets wait for red god (and hope he stays in the gutter(

.. their corruption from angel to devil? both started pretty innocently and had a character arc that turned pretty dark at one point

... their hubris? (/superbia, pride) lucifer wanted to be god, both darrow and lyly have some pretty strong hubris ngl lysander "I'm the slave shepherd" lune and darrow "the kingdom of death has only one king" of lykos both strong contenders and yes light resistance bringer is more delusional but reaper had 10yrs war experience and still sailed on mercury

... kings of hell? darrow has some pretty strong hellfire aesthetic going on with being raised under the earth, literally being a helldiver, lots of red vibes (mars & his colour), themes of heat/pain etc etc. lysander burning the garter, surviving the ladon and claiming eidmi also has a growing king of hell vibe.

..rebirth? darrow from red to gold to morningstar, lysander from lune to nobody to lightbringer?

many possibilitiesss.

PREDICTIONSs!!!: what can this symbolism mean for red God?

Venus will play a central role, main battle will be there - cause venus is the morning star aka light bringer aka lucifer

lysander will have his fall from heaven but wont reemerge cause he has no friends parallel to golden son/morningstar arc

hubris will be a theme like come on the book is called red god?? darrow will be torn between his unlocked wise path and his need for speed