#my brother asked them for a lyre

[timdrake-yumm]

I knew I was getting it, because I’m the one who sent my grandparents the link when they asked me to sent them something around $40 for them to buy me for Christmas, but it still made me very excited to see it when I opened their gift. 🥰

[deaddovedecadence]

Title: First Meeting (The Sunshine Verse)

Summary: You come face to face with the leader of the Batclan mob

Warning(s): Possesive behavior, scarring, kidnapping

You don’t remember being drugged, you don’t remember losing track of Lyre, you don’t remember going anywhere and yet you’re here, stuck in an unfamiliar room, a chain on your ankle. You’re unsafe, you know this, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The room is clean, not a speck of dust anywhere, and it smells like lemons, not lemon scented cleaner but real, fresh lemons. You hate it. It's not your first time being kidnapped but usually you’re confined to a dark room or messy, dirty basements that make you want to throw up. This is your first time being kidnapped since joining the force (you had a really unique childhood okay)  and you can’t help but wonder why you've been taken, if someone thinks you'll have real information for that.

Soft, well muffled sounds start up next to the door but quickly fade to silence. You hate it here, the thick silence, the not knowing where your best friend (brother) is, the chain that rests on your ankle. Speaking of the chain, you haven’t tried to walk yet and you can’t help but be curious. Slowly, carefully,, you get yourself out of bed and walk to one of the doors, letting it creak open. It;s only a bathroom. There’s one other door in the room and you’re pretty sure that you know where it leads. Out of here. You start walking towards that door but the chain stops you before you can get too close. Going back a few steps, you make a few loops in the area that seems safe and attempt to run towards the door. Immediately the chains are pulling you back and you slam to the floor. Well whoever has you certainly isn’t an idiot, which makes your job all that much harder. 

Eventually you pull yourself off of the floor and crawl to the bed. As soon as you’ve arranged yourself in a manner that doesn’t hurt too much, you’re asleep. 

“Lyre,” you call, listening to the echoing chirps of the birds, trying to ignore the sounds of “lyre, lyre, not lyre,” to themselves, loud as can be. It’s foggy out today, but not so much that you can’t see in front of you. The walk to work is weird without your best friend, but peaceful, even though the birds are chirping loudly, mocking birds calling Lyre’s name. As you’re approaching the police station, you note the crowd of people, how their murmurs grow and change. They’re all saying his name. You get closer and your best friend (brother) is just laying there, spread out on the pavement, his blood staining everything a terrible shade of red. You kneel down, staring at him. Lyre’s eyes are wide open, unseeing and you can’t help closing them. Your hands are red now. 

You wake up screaming. 

It takes a minute of blind panic for you to calm down and become aware of your surroundings again. You’re in the same room as yesterday and still sore as fuck. The only real change is that there’s a chair in the middle of the room, well more like a throne (you may or may not role your eyes) and a man sitting on the throne. He’s wearing a venetian carnival mask, black with a white bat around each eye. Every gothamite knows it as Sire’s mask. 

You’ve been kidnapped by the fucking bats. Shit! 

“May I help you?” You ask politely as you can manage. Sire’s mask, cold and porcelain keeps smiling,golden even as the man takes off his fucking mask. You’re going to die, you’re going to fucking die. You look down so you can’t see his face. The man sighs.

“You can look up. I have no plans to kill you. Rather I’d like to thank you. You took care of my son while he wouldn’t allow me to.” Now you’re confused. You chance a look up and meet the eyes of bruce fucking wayne, gotham’s biggest  philanthropist. You don’t even know what to say, because the man who’s been credited for saving Gotham is the one keeping it in order as the cruelest man on the east coast.  “I don’t understand Mr.Wayne. I don’t know any of your children.” 

Bruce Wayne smiles faintly, “Not even Jason?” Every single person born and bred in Gotham knows the tragedy of Jason. It’s said that a mobster went after him and killed him, and in revenge Mr. Wayne swore to oust the mob from Gotham city. Knowing what  you know now makes you wonder what really happened. “No offense but I’m pretty sure that Jason is dead.” Wayne laughs bitterly. “We thought so but when your friend Lyre had to go to the hospital,, my doctors found something pretty interesting. A blood match. Would you like to guess who exactly is the match” everything starts to fade out and go dizzy. You were the one that made Lyre go to the hospital because he’s always hated hospitals. “Was it Jason?” 

“It was Jason.” Wayne unless his legs, neatly rearranging himself. “I’d like to tell you a story.” You shrug, looking away. “When my son was a child, he lived on the streets. One day I had a meeting in Crime alley and he was crazy enough to try and steal the tires off my car. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. It’s so much like the Lyre you know that you know, mischievous and carefully reckless, always doing something that he shouldn’t be. What was real? “And when I came back to my car, there was this tiny vicious little boy fighting my guards and fucking winning. I’ve always been fond of stubbornness and there was something about Jason’s desperate desire to survive that stuck me so I brought him home with me. He’s been a member of the family ever since.” 

When Wayne talks about Jason, you’re reminded of a Pet owner talking about their best show animal or something. He’s not talking about them like they’re humans but as if they’re prizes to be won. He sounds like a collector, marveling over his trophies. You can’t help but want to upset this man, can’t help but dislike him. 

“If he was a member of your family, why did he leave you?” Maybe he’ll hurt you, maybe he’ll kill you but either way you’re going to mouth off for lyre. Wayne’s expression doesn’t even change.  “I have six other children,” he explains, “and half of them have anger issues. Do you really think that you’re going to phase me?” 

Your logical mind reminds you to be polite, your desire to live tells you to go apeshit. “That doesn’t answer my question,” you snap, ignoring his question all together. He doesn’t even blink. “Jason left because he didn’t agree with our methods. He did not understand the reasons I allowed my youngest to work in the basement at twelve nor did he appreciate our love. “ You’ve heard the stories from Lyre about his family, about the scars he carries from their love. Now that you've met Wayne you can’t help but wonder how many of those scars are physical. There’s a scars on Lyre’s back, tally marks, five of them to be exact. Are those from here? Are his tattoos from here? 

“When do I get to see Lyre again?” 

Wayne smiles Serenely, and for a moment he doesn’t look like a monster, instead he looks soft, and almost genuine. “When Jason calms down enough to be safe to be around again.” You tilt your head, wonder what he means and carefully do not ask. “Am I stuck in here permanently?” Wayne shakes his head politely. “No you’ll be coming to dinner tonight and Alfred will help you order anything that you might need.” That��s not what you mean. You want to go home. “Can I go home?” “This is your home.” You scoff and bear teeth. “My home is a little apartment by the wharf, not a mansion full of crazy people.” 

Wayne’s smile turns sharp, vicious. “I’d like to remind you that your privileges hedge on your good behavior. It’d be very easy to lock you away until you’re feeling more polite.” You get the feeling that wayne isn’t making a threat. He’s making a promise. 

[yourwitchybrother]

On Worshipping Lord Apollo;

I've decided to start a little series about the deities I worship, have worshipped, and will worship in the future. I've always found posts like these to be more helpful and, if I can help anyone, I think this is an amazing way to to so. In this post, I'm going to cover a lot, so buckle up! And I will make a master post for all of the posts I make in this series.

First up! Lord Apollo.

Hands down, he is the deity with whom I have the most experience and personal anecdotes. Apollo has been in my life since the very beginning. I go into a little bit more detail in this post, in which I detail how I view him as a worshipper, my patron, and a godspouse. For information's sake, however, I will try to keep this post a little bit more factual than UPG. UPG stands for "Unverified personal gnosis", which refers to a spiritual belief that stems from intuition or personal spiritual experience. So, while UPG may seem to line up with mythos or just "make sense" for the deity, it varies from practitioner to practitioner and from relationship to relationship. With that being said, I'll focus mostly on the facts with some little bit of advice thrown in from your older brother :)

Correspondences!

First, let's talk correspondences. Consider this a little cheat sheet if you will.

☀︎ You can refer to him by Apollo / Apollon, typically he will clarify which. Many regard him as "Lord Apollo/n", though it is fully dependent on your relationship with him. I drop the Lord unless I'm praying or invoking him, such is the nature of our relationship. For the sake of this post, I shall be referring to him formally as Lord Apollo.

☀︎ He has... a lot of epithets. You can view them here (theoi.com) if you'd like to see a full list.

☀︎ Apollo is typically associated with Sunday, and such is associated with the Sun.

☀︎ He has many sacred animals - The raven, dolphin, swan, mouse, and wolves.

☀︎ Tarot-wise, he is associated primarily, and most commonly, with The Sun. He has also been associated with The Star, though I do not see this one in many sources.

☀︎ He is the God of a plethora of things. The Sun (he is responsible for pulling it across the sky), Light, Poetry, Music, the arts, plague, prophecy, logic and reason, truth, beauty, agriculture, and archery. I am sure I'm missing things. And if you know other deities to be associated similarly, that is okay. Many Gods can share domains and rule over certain things.

☀︎ He is associated with the colors red, white, orange, yellow, and gold!

☀︎ Symbolically, he is related to the Sun, the Lyre, the Bow and Arrow, and the Laurel Wreath.

☀︎ For incense, he is linked to frankincense, myrrh, cypress, clove, cinnamon, and bay.

But that is a lot of correspondence. What can we do with these? Why, I'm glad you asked! With this list of correspondences, we can start to worship Apollo by the book. These would be some more traditional things that would assist you in learning what you want to offer him, what to associate with him, and what you should keep an eye out for. In a later section, I go over some familial ties that can prove useful as well.

Apollo, as an individual

Lord Apollo has typically been regarded as a "beginner deity." He is very easy to work with, incredibly receptive, and is universally known as being a little more laid back with things such as offerings, prayer, and worship. Though I've found all deities to be understanding of circumstance, there is no strict schedule unless you decide to adhere to one.

At the start of our relationship, I found Lord Apollo's energy to be rather bright. I was very new to picking up on spiritual energy and the metaphysical, so his energy felt very overbearing, and we did not spend much in-person time together because of this. He was understanding of my limitations, but he did not hesitate to push these limitations as much as he could for my personal development. This is something he continues to do to this day.

While he does tend to carry himself rather relaxed and carefree, he has no issue being serious and stern whenever needed. If there were signs he was sending me and I would intentionally ignore them because they pointed in directions I did not like, he would respond sternly and ferociously, forcing me to face the negative sooner or figuratively shoving my nose in the signs so I couldn't avoid it. If I needed to face a brutally honest truth, he had no issue being brutally honest. This makes sense, considering he is the God of Truth and Knowledge.

Lord Apollo is also very playful. He's easily excitable. He loves seeing the people he works with make good progress. And if you take a few steps back, depending on your relationship, he is absolutely there to catch you. He is reliable and present. Additionally, he likes attention. He absolutely adores being talked about, thought about, referenced, and thanked. He adores being said good morning to, or even just getting a wave. Some people regard such deities as "high maintenance", but I really just consider it part of his character.

You have every right to decline to work with a deity, by the way. Don't feel as though there's any obligation to work with every deity that is considered "of your skill level", as there is no such thing, and you should only work with a deity once you are ready. The Old Gods do not come with stats above their head and white text that says "PREFERRED LEVEL." They are Gods. You should not get involved with them if you do not feel ready. And even if you feel ready, there is no pressure to invite them into your life.

Worshipping Tips!

This one is a bit lengthy. Apollo, being one of the twelve Olympians, has a lot of lore surrounding him. But this gives us a lot to work with! You can devote time to him in a lot of ways. This involves worshipping or leaving offerings to his family!

His mother is Leto, his father is Zeus, and his twin sibling is Artemis. Familially, he is not married to anyone, but he has had a series of lovers. One account says he was, at one point, a lover to Hekate and together they had Skylla, a sea monster. Though this is unusual. He was said to be a lover to each of the Nine Muses but married none. He fell in love with a myriad of nymphs; Aethusa who birthed Eleuther, Akakallis who birthed him twins Philanderos and Philakides, Daphne who was turned into a laurel tree, and more. There's famously Hyacinthous, a prince, who was accidentally killed. Hymenaeus, another prince, and Cyparisus, another prince, who died of grief and was transformed into the cypress tree.

This gives us a whole lot to work with. Especially for offerings! You can leave him a lot of things:

☀︎ Cypress tree leaves or seeds. ☀︎ Bay leaves ☀︎ Laurel leaves ☀︎ Sun imagery - charms, pictures, drawings, anything. ☀︎ Crystals - Sunstone, citrine, tiger's eye, amber, bumblebee jasper, orange selenite, carnelian, and other yellow, red, or orange stones. ☀︎ Coffee, energy drinks, or anything with caffeine in it. ☀︎ Citrus! Oranges and lemons! Grapefruit! ☀︎ Flowers - Hyacinths, sunflowers, orange roses, larkspur/delphinium, palm, aloe, or any plant that reminds you of him. ☀︎ Instruments - String instruments are the main thing people offer, however you can offer him any instrument. ☀︎ Art - Things you made. Drawings, sculptures, compositions, poetry, paintings, song lyrics, photography, literally anything you made with your two hands.

In terms of what you can do to worship him, there are a few things you can do.

☀︎ Maintain your physical and mental health. Go to the gym, take your medicine, and positively affirm yourself. ☀︎ Sing for or with him. Play an instrument. Learn an instrument! ☀︎ Write short stories or poetry. ☀︎ Go outside and bask in the sun for a little while. ☀︎ Say Good Morning and Goodnight; Thank him for pulling the sun across the sky. ☀︎ Write about him. ☀︎ Draw him offerings, or draw in his honor. Create in his honor. ☀︎ Do a paint-and-sip class, or follow a Bob Ross tutorial. ☀︎ Pick up a new creative hobby. ☀︎ Volunteer at a local hospital or nursing home. ☀︎ Grow some of the plants that are sacred to him! ☀︎ Go to your local museum or art gallery. ☀︎ Support small artists! Support local artists! ☀︎ Create a hymn in his name and honor. ☀︎ Wear jewelry with his symbols on it. I wear a sun necklace! ☀︎ Wear perfumes or colognes that are citrus-scented or scented like any of his preferred incense.

At the end of the day, you can really do whatever you want for Lord Apollo if it reminds you of him. And you can give him whatever you want, so long as it reminds you of him. If you think that it may not mean anything to him, let me give you a bit of brotherly insight. Offerings were left for The Old Gods as a thank you. A form of appreciation for the divine from the physical, mortal plane. People left whatever they had. And if they had nothing, they would pray and hope to be heard. While offerings are not optional, remember that your words count, as well. Even if it seems small.

And if you have any questions, as usual, please ask!! I love talking about Apollo. Not only am I godspoused to him but he's one of my biggest hyperfixations and I absolutely love talking about him and spreading his teachings and information on him. So this is me begging you to ask me questions, ask me anything, literally anything in the comments or in my inbox I will eat it up. Maybe I'll open up a brotherly advice box or something. Non lo so, ma vedremo!

Blessed be, and may the sun be your guide! A domani!

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXVIII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author's Note: here’s a moodboard of the Vanserra brothers you’ll meet here HEHE.

shoutout to @abruisedmuse for being part of this journey with me!!

Tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @readthelastpaage / @teddyhoneybear / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @illyrianvalkyrie / @rainbowsnowflake

Find it all here.

If the room had been bathed in tension before this, they were downright drowning in it now. The door to the seating room had been shut and reinforced with a shield from each brother; there was no chance for this meeting to be discovered. 

Eris hadn’t been sure Lucien would actually show. The moment he had found out about Izak, he had reached out and asked him to join this meeting. Lucien’s letter had only said ‘We’ll see.’

So Eris was relieved to have him here even though the tension in the room was wrapped a little too tightly around their throats.

The last time they had all been in the same room was after they found out who Lucien’s father was. And the same way Eris had had it out with Lucien and cleared their history, his brothers had attempted to do the same. It hadn’t gotten the same results; Lucien still tread carefully with their three brothers but it wasn’t as hostile as before. 

Or so Eris hoped. 

Lucien stood by the door across from his older brothers, hands in his pockets as they all observed each other. Emil watched with curiosity, Finn with barely contained excitement, and Izak caught between anger and disbelief. 

“Are you this upset to see me standing in your home, Izak?” Lucien asked carefully.

“No.” Izak replied curtly. “I am upset because I would’ve preferred for Eris to have gotten permission from me first.”

“And I would’ve preferred you not knock up your wife and then elope without giving me a heads up first,” Eris said. “So we’re even.”

“I’m so sorry, your highness. I’ll make sure to get written permission the next time I want to fuck my wife.” 

“The damage is already done now. I’d like to pretend you don’t exist after this ends.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Likewise.” 

Lucien chuckled. “Well. This is certainly an unexpected family reunion.” 

“I’m surprised you came.” Emil said and the room fell silent as Lucien’s expression shifted.

Eris watched and hated that he was nervous as he watched Lucien’s jaw work. He…cared about his brothers. Not that he’d mention this, of course. No sense in giving them ammunition to make fun of him but…he didn’t know how they’d handle being in the same room after so long of avoidance and it was essential for them to get along for them to move forward. 

Eris hated being unsure about anything and this was a territory he didn’t like to wade into. Familial relationships were not the strongest suit of his brothers, especially when it came to Lucien and their history. He supposed he could always force them all to get along. He needed their cooperation and the chance of him not getting that exasperated the tension in his body; his back truly did not appreciate it and he wondered how much Iris was going to yell at him for his wrecked bandaids.

“When Eris invited me, I debated if I should come,” Lucien finally said. “I have no desire to be here. I do not like being here. But what we are here to discuss isn’t about me. So here I am.”

The room fell silent again as Izak and Lucien watched one another and Eris knew it was a huge gamble to reunite them again like this. They may have buried part of the hatchet long ago but a bad taste will always linger and Eris couldn’t blame Lucien if it did. But Eris also knew Lucien’s heart; somehow, his youngest brother had a vast capacity for goodness even when the people around him didn’t deserve it. 

“I told you I have someone who could help get Helene out and keep her safe until further notice,” Eris said carefully and gestured to Lucien. “This is who.”

Izak’s expression became stricken and again, Eris understood. He understood the kind of risk this was. He could see Izak’s mind working out all the angles of this, wondering how big of a hazard it would be to put Helene in the hands of the person he had held down to watch his former lover get murdered.

“So…you got married.” Lucien asked, his eyes flickering around the room once more. 

“Yes.” Izak said carefully. 

“You’re going to be a father.”

“I - I am.”

And the stumble was so unlike Izak, they all couldn’t help but glance at him, his words of confirmation seeming to shock him. 

The corner of Lucien’s mouth lifted. “How exciting. Congratulations.” 

Eris couldn’t help but watch the two of them stand across the room from each other, the discomfort on Izak’s face mixed with the deep sense of shame that never seemed to leave him when it came to Lucien. They all shared the guilt but Izak…he was the one that came between Lucien and their two deceased brothers. Izak held the guilt deeply. 

“How can you stand to look at me?” Izak asked quietly and Lucien quirked a brow.

“I am used to seeing unpleasant things. Your face isn’t new.”

Izak’s expression shifted, surprising Eris to see how easily he let the deep remorse show. 

“I know we talked things through a few years ago but…I don’t know what to say now that you’re here.” he whispered and Lucien’s expression tightened. “I’m sorry. Again.”

The room fell into that pregnant silence once more, and Eris wasn’t sure what the right move was other than to let them get it out between them. It took Lucien a few minutes to respond, his expression troubled. 

“Your wife must be some kind of a miracle worker.” Lucien muttered and Eris’s lips twitched. 

“I don’t deserve her.” Izak said softly. 

Lucien blinked. “And you admit that so easily.”

“Because it’s true and I’m secure about myself.” 

“Right.” Lucien said lightly and Eris could tell he was disturbed by the unexpected confessions. His brows furrowed as he glanced around the room at his other brothers then settled his gaze back on Izak. “Are you high or something?”

“Gods, I wish I was,” Izak muttered, glaring at the floor and then looking back at Lucien. “But listen. You’re here and I know you’ve actively avoided us before. So. I just wanted to say that.”

Lucien’s gaze flickered to Eris and he couldn’t help but shrug at his youngest brother. He could tell Lucien was confused and if there was one thing about his brothers, it was that there would be a lot of unknowns as they navigated this.

“You have to admit this is strange,” Lucien said and jerked his chin at Eris. “I know you’re the worst with your emotional constipation but we’ve never been so open about anything in this…family. Ever. What is wrong with you all?”

“Oy, don’t bring me into this. I’ve always been an open book.” Finn quipped and Eris rolled his eyes.

“That’s because you never know when to shut the fuck up.” he replied and held up a hand before Finn could say anything else and turned to Lucien. “We’re trying to avoid having history repeat itself. The stakes are too high and the High Lord has a lot coming for him that will put too many others at risk if we don’t prepare now. So. As disgusting as they are, feelings have to be on the table.”

“What do you know?” Emil asked quietly but Eris shook his head. 

“I need this sorted out first.” Eris said, stepping in and pointing between Izak and Lucien. “You need an out for Helene. Lucien is your out. Are you willing to let Helene go there?”

Izak glanced between Eris and Lucien. “You have to understand why I would hesitate,” he said slowly and ran his hand through his hair. “Can I ask an offensive question?”

Lucien lifted a brow. “As long as I can give an offensive answer.”

Finn raised his hand. “Is this about Elain?”

“Don’t mention my wife.” Lucien snapped immediately and Finn rolled his eyes.

“Why are you all so sensitive about your wives?” he muttered. “I’m not even that big of a threat.”

“You’re an absolute menace.” Emil said, the corner of his mouth lifting and Eris couldn’t help his snort.

“Does that mean I won’t meet her anytime soon?” Finn said and wiggled his brows at Emil whose expression immediately darkened. 

“Shut the fuck up, Finn.”

“You all realize that I’m the second oldest of this group, right? Show some respect.”

“Stop being an idiot and maybe you’ll earn it,” Eris said, pointedly. Finn only made a noise of offense and sat back in his seat. As Eris met Finn’s gaze, he had to give Finn credit where it was due; his brother knew how to lighten the mood in any room and this was as awkward as it could get. 

“What’s your offensive question, Izak?” Lucien asked, bringing the room back to attention and Izak was silent as if debating his question. 

“We all know where we stand with each other, despite the things that have happened in the past but…,” he started carefully and licked his lips before adding very softly, “How do I know sending Helene with you isn’t when you would get revenge on me? How do I know she’ll truly be safe?”

Finn’s wince at Izak’s question mirrored Eris’s own face, especially when Lucien’s expression flattened and Emil straightened in his seat. 

“Well. I’m not a murderer or the soulless monster your father is. I have nothing to gain from this.” he said curtly. “I’m putting myself at risk just by being here. We all know how he’d react if he knew I paid a visit.” 

Izak glanced down at his feet. “I know.” 

“That being said…” Lucien continued and pursed his lips before answering. “I also know your part in that day was against your will and it’s something you’ve struggled with. We all know how your father is and the kind of things he’s forced us to do.” Lucien shifted and took a moment before continuing, “I don’t know that I can truly ever forgive you all and I certainly will never forget but I do acknowledge where you’re coming from. I understand why you would be concerned given how we’ve all been raised.” 

Lucien slipped his hands out of his pockets and rested them at his sides as he straightened and met Izak’s gaze. “Your wife will never have anything to worry about with me. I am happy to provide her a place of safety in the Day Court until this is all settled.” he said and had to swallow before continuing. “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one. I would never do that to someone else.”

Izak swallowed hard. “Even if it would bring you a sense of justice?”

Lucien’s brows furrowed. “Innocents paying the price for someone else’s cruelty is not justice. It’s nothing but violence and I am not a violent male,” he replied. “Hurting you won’t bring her back and you are not the one that should be paying the price for Beron’s actions. He is the only one who should pay for anything.”

“I’m sorry I asked.” Izak could only say but Lucien shrugged.

“Given the circumstances, I know why you did.” 

It fell silent once more and Eris glanced around the room, sensing the uncomfortable energy. The five of them hadn’t been in the same place since who knows when and it seemed the brothers didn’t know what to do with themselves. 

“Anyone else feel like they want to throw up?” Finn asked suddenly.

“I think that’s a genetic issue at this point.” Emil said and even Lucien couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Before we move on to the bigger topic, is this settled? Are we on the same page?” Eris asked Izak and his brother glanced at Lucien once more.

“I’ll need to talk to Helene about this but…yes, I will take you up on your offer.” Izak said. “Anything to keep her safe.” 

Lucien nodded. “I will see what I can have set up as soon as I return.” 

Relief seemed to course through the room at the agreement and Eris felt his shoulders drop. Though the nervous energy remained, it wasn’t as tense between them; there was a cautious understanding. 

“Now to the bigger subject.” he broached carefully.

“Are you going to be a daddy?” Finn asked and Eris shot him a withering look.

“Do you ever think before you open your mouth?”

“No.” Finn replied with a smile. 

“Why would he announce something like that when he just chewed me out for that very reason?” Izak snapped.

“He’s the big brother. He can do what you can’t.” Finn said with a shrug and Izak flipped him off to which Finn returned the gesture. Emil chuckled and Eris sighed as Lucien shot him a look of amusement.

“Am I allowed to move on now or will you keep wasting my time?” Eris said, giving Finn another pointed look. His younger brother only smiled and held his hands up in surrender, leaning back in his chair. 

Taking a quiet breath, Eris finally rolled his shoulders back and brought everyone up to speed over the last few days. He kept his recap of his father’s recent abuse short, to the point, and avoided looking at any of them directly as he explained; he wasn’t interested in sympathy. The angry energy that surged through the room fueled him and Eris hated to admit how seen he felt in it. He wondered how much less alone he would’ve felt had he shared with his brothers more often; gods, he didn’t want to burden them. He barely wanted to burden Iris with the history of it all, much less his emotions. But change was coming whether they liked it or not and maybe...maybe this feeling here could remain after the dust settles. If they survived. 

“I met with Mother this morning and she let me know…” Eris began and took a breath before continuing. “She’s ready.”

The energy in the air shifted and every brother froze where they stood.

“Ready?” Emil echoed.

“Yes.” 

“How ready?” Lucien asked.

“To fuck it all and finally get out,” Eris replied. “This set her healing back a few days but she’s been fully in touch with her abilities and comfortable using them.” 

“When?” Izak demanded. 

“The Autumn Equinox.”

“In three weeks time.” Finn said quietly and Eris nodded.  

“Hence the timeline you provided us.” Emil said and Eris nodded again.

“We don’t have much time but we’ve been ready for so long, it’s a matter of moving things along,” he said. “We have to be prepared for the worst. We should expect it, no matter how positive we want to think it might go.” 

His words were met with silence but he could almost feel the blood pumping from each of them, like a drum beating, announcing the war to come. 

“The ball gives us a good cover.” Emil mused. “The rumor of me trying to kill you will have Father’s focus elsewhere.”

“We’ll have to get our people stationed in the lineup and shift our sentries as needed to protect the perimeter,” Finn added. “Once we get the expected numbers and guest list, we can plan accordingly.”

“We have to assume there will be a mole of some sort and prepare for that,” Izak said. “Mother handled the guest list?”

“Yes, and I already have a copy.” Eris said with a nod. “Slowly, we’ll have each of our own take out Father’s men one by one and replace them as stealthily as possible so by the time she is ready to slip away, our own are covering the tracks.” 

“And once Lucien sends us the signal that she’s safe…” Emil began and the corner of his mouth curled up. “The true party begins.”

The room went silent again, the meaning of the words clear to all. This would be the night everything would change for good. Either they survived their Father or he survived them.  

“And people are ready to side with you?” Lucien asked quietly. “You all have strong armies but he is still the High Lord. A coup is not easy. I can’t imagine killing him would be any easier.” 

Eris glanced at each brother for a moment before he spoke. “We’ve been preparing for this for a very long time,” he said. “We’re stronger and smarter than we were before. We’ve built an entire system meant to withstand a fight like this and we have won people over by faith, not fear.” He shifted as his younger brothers watched him and gods, Eris didn’t know how to process this moment properly. “He may be the High Lord but his reign was over long ago. We’ve had to suffer his wrath day in and day out for years, waiting, holding on for this moment and we will make it count.”

“Everyone is fed up. They have been.” Izak added quietly, glancing around his home. “Each of our territories has had people impacted by him one way or another. They don’t forgive and they sure as fuck don’t forget.”

“While Father has always had control, it’s loosened because he’s so used to us following him blindly. He’s let things slide.” Emil said. “He may have his spies…but so do we and ours are much sneakier.”

Eris’s fist clenched as he took a breath. “Our Father’s biggest mistake was trying to pit us against each other and not realizing that while he’s breaking us all down, we would end up rising together.” He glanced at Lucien with a thin smile. “This has been in the works for years. We’re near the end now and Mother’s departure is the catalyst of it all.”

Finn’s expression had that maniacal delight as he added, “The Autumn Court has been primed for change. It’s about fucken time we did something about it.” 

“Or die trying.” Lucien mused carefully as he eyed each of his older brothers.

“That is a possibility, yes.” Eris confirmed, a little too casually. He didn’t need to think too deeply about it. “And that is why we’re getting who we need to out of this court. In case it happens.”

Lucien quirked a brow. “Beron doesn’t know about Helene or the others but he sure as fuck is going to notice if your wife is suddenly missing.”

Eris worked his jaw for a moment. He hadn’t told Iris this yet but the more he and his brothers discussed, the more it made sense to send her away. He dreaded the conversation; she wasn’t going to like leaving and neither would he. But her safety had to be the priority. He wouldn’t let his mate fall into his father’s hands if he wasn’t alive to defend her. 

He finally said, “I’m going to send her with Mother. I can’t risk keeping her there in case – in case something happens to me.” He met Lucien’s gaze. “I know we didn’t originally plan for that but he will take everything out on her and then some. She cannot come back until this is over.”

Lucien slowly nodded his understanding then asked, “Does she know that?”

Eris shook his head.“But she will. By tonight, everyone who needs to be removed has to be notified.”

“We didn’t factor this in the original plan either,” Emil said, his brow furrowed. “It was always about getting Mother out and dealing with the fallout after.”

“It was always about getting Mother out and snapping your Father’s neck right afterward,” Finn said. “We may have not planned for our – others to leave until it’s safe but I for one, am not leaving it up to chance.” He licked his lips. “Father has asked me about him again and I did not like that tone he used.” 

“Him?” Lucien asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, him.” Finn said and rolled his eyes, though no one missed the light flush of his cheeks. “Females aren’t the only ones I have fun with.”

“It’s a hotshot blacksmith.” Emil added, the corner of his mouth lifting when Finn narrowed his eyes at him.

“Ah, so he’s good with his hands.” Lucien said with a nod. “Makes sense.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Finn asked, offended.

“It means he knows how to shut you up.” Izak said with a snort. “Not just with his hands though, ay?”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I will walk through that door and flirt so obnoxiously with your wife she’ll forget about why she ever looked at your disgusting face.”

“Go right ahead, she needs the laugh.”  Izak said. “Just be prepared for her to throw up on you.”

“Why is it, that whenever you open your mouth or the conversation happens to revolve around you, it goes off the rails?” Eris asked though it was without any real heat. He hated to admit it, but he didn’t hate what was happening here. He didn’t hate seeing what could’ve been had things been different in their family. That stupid sense of longing panged in his chest yet again. 

If they survived, Eris decided he was going to force it. They all needed it.

“They’re the ones making fun of my private life!”

“I’ve walked in on you fucking way too many times for you to pretend you’re private in any capacity.” Emil said and Finn rolled his eyes.

“Well, things have changed. I’m private now and only fuck behind locked doors.” Finn replied with a sneer. “Keep talking and I’ll bring her up again.”

Emil’s expression immediately shut down. “Finn.” he warned. 

“I thought it was cards on the table.” 

“It’s enough you all know she exists. I won’t say anything more.” 

“Emil.” Eris coaxed and raised a brow at his brother. “Is there anything we need to know?” Anything important that would impact her departure?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly,” Eris argued. “Do not lie to me.”

Emil sat quietly for a moment, working his jaw as he glanced down at his hands. It took a few minutes before he finally spoke, “I’m afraid I don’t feel comfortable sharing more than this.”

“Why?” Eris asked with narrowed eyes. 

“Because we’re here to yell at Izak and his decisions, not mine.” 

Finn’s delighted expression had Eris immediately close his eyes and take a deep breath, preparing himself.

“You better tell me right this instant or so help me —” Eris started but Emil held up a hand and then slowly lowered it, his fists clenching in his lap. 

“Don’t – don’t –” Emil swallowed and the nerves were so unlike his brother, they all tensed. “She stays out of everything. Nothing will harm her.” 

“Oh gods, who is she?” Finn asked.  

“Promise me, Eris.” Emil snapped. “Promise me.”

Eris narrowed his eyes, his mind going a mile a minute at the possibilities of who his brother’s lover could be and why he was so worried. He knew it was a female but that was the extent that Emil had ever shared with him.

“There’s always a risk.” He said quietly and Emil shook his head.

“Then I can’t say.”

“That’s the answer I’d give about Iris and she’s my m –” Eris snapped then cut himself off before growling, “There’s always a risk. It’s a risk for her to sleep in The Forest House. A risk for her to breathe in the same room as him. It’s a risk for me to leave her at home while I am here. There is always a risk.” He took a quick breath as Emil swallowed again and tried for a calmer tone. “It’s a bigger risk if we don’t know who she is and can’t protect her.”

Emil licked his lips, resting his elbows on his knees, and interlacing his fingers as he braced himself before very, very quietly confessing, “She’s Henry Adler’s daughter.”

Shocked silence filled the room and then –

“Henry Adler? The resistant group’s leader?” Finn asked.

“Yes.” Emil answered.

“Isn’t he dead?” Izak added. 

“Supposedly.”

Eris’s mind whirled as he stared at Emil with narrowed eyes. He knew his brother kept his lover a secret and while he didn’t blame him, this…this was not a secret to be kept from him.

“You’re in a relationship with the daughter of the head of the biggest resistance group against your father and you somehow failed to think we needed to know this?” Eris asked incredulously, his younger brothers mirroring his expression.

“Wait –” Lucien interrupted with furrowed brows. “Resistant group? I thought Beron wiped them out ages ago.” 

“Theoretically,” Eris said tightly. “We had a small rebellion that rose up again a few years ago that had Henry Adler at the forefront of it all. Father set his house on fire and the family was presumed dead. Anyone associated with the rebellion was met with the same fate. Though they suffered casualties, the Adlers were prepared. They had a tunnel beneath their house that led them to another location, closer to the border between us and the Winter Court, which is Emil’s territory.” He took a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “When Emil found out they were still alive, we made contact and have worked together since. He’s one of the few people outside of this room who knows Emil isn’t who he seems to be.” 

Lucien couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, glancing at Emil’s scowling face. “That is bold.” he said. “And a very dangerous line to walk.”

“I am well aware.” Emil replied and shifted in his seat. 

“It’s messy, is what it is.” Eris snapped and narrowed his gaze at Emil. “How many times have I told you all this is not the kind of shit you keep from me?”

“There has been no need to mention her.” Emil replied. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Her home crumbled into dust because of that fire. Her mother died because of that damn fire. Her father lost his arm! That fire exasperated her disability. She could very well be the reason for your downfall.” Eris snapped again and Emil bristled. 

“Eris.” he began calmly. “I know everything about the comings and goings of this group. I’m one of the few people who even knows they’re alive. They are putting themselves at a huge risk by trusting me. If anything, I’d be their downfall.”

“But instead you’re trying to be their son-in-law.” Finn said with a snort and Emil flipped him off.

“Besides, they don’t blame me for the fire.” Emil continued. “They know where we stand with Father. They’re supporting our every move.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what does she struggle with that the attack made worse?” Lucien asked and all eyes turned to Emil who shifted uncomfortably. He scowled and then worked his jaw before he answered. 

“She was in an accident as a child and it impacted her hearing abilities. She has aids to assist her hearing and often uses sign language to speak as verbal communication can be a little difficult for her at times.” Emil rubbed a finger to his forehead. “The fire added to the trauma and after we…once she started to trust me, I’ve been helping her try different devices to assist with her day-to-day functions that have made things easier.”

“So you two communicate through sign language?” Izak asked curiously and Emil worked his jaw before answering.

“Mostly. She can speak but it’s a little heavy at times. Sign language is simpler for her.”

“Mm. Good for you.” Izak said, clearly impressed and Emil flipped him off.

“She’s hot. It’s fantastic for him considering how hideous he is.”  Finn added and snickered when Emil shot him a glare. 

“One of these days, I’m going to cut your tongue out.” he snarled and Finn promptly stuck his tongue out like a child. “You didn’t even know about her until this moment. How do you even know what she looks like?” 

“I know who survived the Adler fire.” Finn said with an eye roll. “You’re not the only one with eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Finn, I swear to all the gods,” Eris said and rubbed his forehead then looked back at Emil. “Now you’ll have to get Adler on board to let her go to Dawn and move whoever else is left with her. Without anyone else finding out.” 

“Don’t worry about that. She’ll be ready to go.” 

Lucien cleared his throat and glanced at Emil. “I don’t mean to overstep but I have a friend in Dawn who could help her find a device that works for her while she’s there.”

“Nuan?”

“Yes.” Lucien replied and tapped beneath his mechanical eye. “She did craft this for me.”

Emil fidgeted before clearing his throat. “I’d…appreciate that. I don’t think she’d be inclined to do me any favors,” he said. “I’ll pay whatever she wants.”

“I’ll pass it along.” Lucien said with a nod then added in a quieter tone, “What’s her name?”

They watched Emil’s fists clench and pursed his lips before he reluctantly and very quietly answered, “Cosette.” 

It was quiet for a moment before Izak rubbed a hand over his beard and said, “I feel like Emil is getting away with this too easily. I got punched twice. In front of my wife.”

“Agreed,” Finn said immediately. “He deserves a punch.”

“I say at least two.”

“You know what, let’s start by giving him a good fist to the gut. I’ll go first.”

“Enough.” Eris snapped and sent a small spark of his magic to swat each of his brothers.

“I didn’t even do anything.” Lucien grumbled, running a hand over his hair.

“Didn’t want you to feel left out.” Eris replied with a smile that had no kindness in it. Lucien gave him the finger. 

“Before we move on, can I just say,” Finn started again.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Emil mumbled and Finn flipped him off, continuing.

“The biggest fuck you to our father is that we all somehow ended up choosing people from the working class.” he said with a grin, making air quotation marks with his fingers. “Except for you, Eris. Considering Father dearest picked Iris out for you.”

“Her father is a criminal so I don’t think he can be too high and mighty about it,” Izak said with a smirk and Eris rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“I can’t stand any of you.” Eris grumbled. 

“I’d be inclined to believe you had I not witnessed this meeting.” Lucien said, deeply amused and Eris squinted at him.

“Specifically can’t stand you.” he muttered childishly and Lucien snorted. 

“Thank god for that. If we keep being polite to each other, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.” 

“How is any of this polite?” Izak said in outrage. “These fuckers ambushed me in my home.”

“True. I would’ve knifed you for fun by now if we were in our usual setting but I’m being respectful of your very beautiful wife in the other room.” Finn said with a grin.

“Don’t mention my wife, asshole.” 

“If you died, I’d absolutely step up and marry her, you know. Raise that child like it was my own.” Finn continued and Eris could already see a vein about to explode in Izak’s forehead. “I’d be a fantastic father.”

“I’m going to fucken –” 

Sighing deeply, Eris closed his eyes and counted to ten, turning away to ignore the ruckus happening between his two brothers. He wasn’t sure how he had expected this session to go but this…this was best case scenario. It was awkward but they made it work and moving forward, they could be okay. 

This would be fine. Things would work out. They would be fine and make it out alive. His father would be dead. His mother would be out of this hellhole. His brothers wouldn’t be forced to be so far away. They would all be fine and Eris wouldn’t give himself ulcers in the meantime. He would leave here and all would go according to plan. He would go home to Iris and she’d be safe and waiting for him. Wearing something indecent that maybe he would be brave enough to slide his hands under today. 

But until then, Eris would have to keep it together. For all of their sakes. 

“This isn’t as bad as I imagined.” Lucien said quietly, and Eris turned to face him. 

“I know it was difficult for you to come. Thank you.”

Lucien shrugged, glancing towards Izak and Finn still arguing, Emil watching in amusement. “It’s not so bad.” he said. “It’s always nice to remember they never really wanted to kill me.”

Eris followed his gaze and hated how he felt that longing again. He wondered if Lucien felt it too, watching his brothers behave in a way that could only be done like this, behind closed doors, sealed tight away from the world. 

“We could’ve been normal.” Eris muttered, trying not to choke on his bitterness.

Lucien’s expression was all too knowing. “Now where’s the fun in that?” he said with a chuckle. “If we’re not traumatized, who would we be?”

Eris grunted then turned back to his brothers and cleared his throat.  

He took a quiet breath and straightened, meeting each of his brother’s gaze. “On a more serious note,” he began. “I’ve been tittering a bit on the edge trying to save all my magic and have reserved it deep for this day. I have a few tricks up my sleeve with my magic and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to take him out but I suggest you do the same. Sort whatever affairs you need to. Prepare whoever you need to. I cannot guarantee anyone’s safety but I will do everything I can to make sure we will be alright.” Eris swallowed. “But until he is gone…until he is truly dead, we fight until the end because we do not have another choice. It’s either we survive or he does and he cannot survive this. We cannot allow it. His days as High Lord are numbered.”

He glanced around the room once more before speaking the words that had only been an assumption until this point, “We are all well aware of who will be the next High Lord, correct?” 

Finn offered Eris a smirk, standing before he wrapped his hands around the hilts of his twin daggers, unsheathing them halfway then sheathing them again with a click – and Eris knew what that meant, he understood the depth of that promise. “It’s been a long time coming, brother. You have my word and my swords.”  

“The moment he falls, that crown is yours.” Izak said, nodding at him. 

“There is no one else we trust to bring back the light.” Emil added with a small smile.

And Eris had to swallow again, working his throat. This…this was too much. The tips of ears had heated and yet – and yet, relief seemed to course through the room. He always knew he’d be High Lord but to know and be sure they supported him, meant less bloodshed. It meant that maybe their Father hadn’t ruined them after all. 

It meant that indeed, the sun would shine down on the Autumn Court and they wouldn’t be bathed in a sea of blood. The only red they’d see would be in the fading autumn leaves.

“Well. Now, I’m going to throw up.” Lucien quipped and soft chuckles sounded in the room.

“It would be a real shame if you were all planning to collectively plant knives in my back after this.” Eris asked with a smirk. 

“Don’t ruin our surprise. Your reaction won’t be genuine.” Izak tsked. 

“I don’t think I can handle any more surprises at this point.” Eris said with a snort. 

“Is this a bad time to tell you about my other love affair with a different person that Father hates?” 

“Shut it, Finn.”

“You have to be careful with your magic, Eris.” Emil reminded him. “You don’t want it to backfire on you.”

Eris shook his head. “I let loose a few days ago. I’ll be fine until then.”

His brothers nodded collectively and when Lucien took a step back from the group, they all turned to him.

“In an official capacity, the Day Court will support your claim as High Lord.” Lucien stated. “And that in turn, will encourage the Solar Courts to do the same. Do you anticipate anyone else giving you trouble?”  

Eris shook his head. “I risked my neck for Spring and Summer after the war when we opened our borders under Father’s nose. They owe me regardless of their opinions and Kallias isn’t one for trouble when there isn’t a reason for it.” 

Lucien nodded. “Good.” He glanced at Izak. “On my end, I can secure passage for Helene in the next few days. You can send me notice when she’s ready to travel and we’ll be as discreet as possible.”

Izak swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. “Will I – I don’t want her to be alone. I’m thinking of sending her mother with her,” he said quietly. “I understand that draws more attention but she’s pregnant and it’s still early and I won’t be able to be there. Is that an option?”

Lucien gave him a small smile. “I was thinking of having her in a small cottage near Elain and me anyway. We can manage one more person.”

And Eris had to look away from Izak’s expression and the embarrassed gratitude that came off him in waves. 

“Thank you.” his General whispered and Lucien nodded again before turning to Finn.

“Dawn is working on new mechanics for blades that I think a blacksmith would love to get more information on,” he said and gave his older brother a pointed look. “They’re having a showing in a few weeks. It wouldn’t hurt to show up early.” 

Finn nodded, his expression serious for once, and Lucien finally turned to Emil.

“You let me know when she’s there and I will have Nuan connect with her as soon as she arrives.”  

“Thank you.” Emil said quietly. 

Lucien swallowed, glancing at Eris once more. “I know my role in this is to facilitate everyone’s safety outside of this court and I take no small amount of pride in that but if you all need me for anything else, my blade is yours.” he said. “It’s aching to be buried in his flesh.” 

“Noted.” Eris said and hoped Lucien could feel just how deeply his appreciation for his brother was at the moment. None of this was easy and it would only get harder from here but as Eris looked around the room again at his younger brothers, he couldn’t help the way his expression fell.

“We’re almost there. We’re almost at the finish line and I want us all to cross it.” he continued quietly. “So be careful and mindful of every move you make until this is over. And once it is over…” Eris swallowed. “I will be everything he wasn’t and more, I promise you all that.” 

They all nodded back at him and the room fell into a comfortable silence as they all processed what was to come. Eris didn’t know when the next time they’d be able to all be in the same room calmly like this, without the need for fake hostility. Where they were all somewhat whole. 

Maybe they could come out of this drought in one piece. Bloody, but clean of it all. 

They spent the afternoon into the evening finalizing all their plans, including every contingency plan they could think of. They would take no chances. Helene had rejoined them for a brief time bringing them the drinks and food fuel they hadn’t realized they needed and introductions to Lucien had been made. Eris could see she was wary of it all but he couldn’t help but think he might’ve underestimated his sister-in-law; she was the daughter of an army commander and now married to that army’s General…he knew a tactician’s face when he saw one. She’d even given them opinions on certain preparations and it made Eris realize…he’d need to make up for his first impression with a really expensive gift at some point. 

Towards the end, as the brothers began to depart one by one, Eris watched them all leave, feeling like a boulder was sitting on his chest until it was only he and Izak remained. He wanted to remind them to be careful, to watch themselves, and to behave wisely for the next three weeks but held his tongue; they’d shared enough emotions for the day. They were smart. They would manage. 

Eris shifted by the doorway, his eyes flickering once more to the life in his brother’s home.

“I understand why you wanted to protect all this. I only wish you told me.” he said. “You know I would’ve protected it with you.”

Izak’s mouth twitched but he nodded gravely. “I know but…” he glanced behind him and Eris followed his gaze to the noise of Helene moving about, out of their view. “Can you blame me for wanting to keep this secret to myself? Something that is just for me?”

And gods, did Eris understand all too well. He had a little secret of his own that he was itching to get back to. A secret he was hoping, dying to keep safely tucked away. A secret he would need to protect at all costs.

“No, I don’t.” 

Shifting his stance, Eris met Izak’s gaze. “Apologize to Helene for me. I wanted this to go better than it did.” he said and Izak snorted but nodded nonetheless. “We are all happy for you, you know. Mother especially.”

Izak flushed lightly. “She knows now?”

“I told her before I came to you,” Eris said, smirking. “Thank you for taking the pressure off me to have children anytime soon.” 

Izak rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome, asshole. You’ll have to buy my kid an obnoxiously expensive gift to make up for this.”

“Let’s survive this next month and your demon child can have whatever they want.” 

“Ah, fuck you.”

“Likewise, brother.”  

As he turned to leave, Eris couldn’t help but hesitate once more and face his brother. “Izak.” he said and his brother immediately straightened.

“What.”

“Something you said earlier stuck with me.” he continued quietly and Izak’s brows furrowed. “You asked if you were worth this kind of fear that she has to live in now.”

Izak flushed and fidgeted slightly, his eyes flickering toward the location of his wife again. “Right.”

Eris licked his lips, his hands fisting at his sides. “I ask myself that same question all the time.” he paused and met his brother’s gaze. “And I don’t know if the answer will ever be yes but… When you meet someone who makes you want to fight the fear…I think it means we’re heading in the right direction.” 

Izak’s expression fell and he nervously ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want her to get hurt because of me.” he whispered and Eris gave him a thin smile. 

“I know,” he said. “But we can make it worth their while until we have nothing to fear. I wanted you to know. I understand.”

The corner of Izak’s mouth curled up before dropping again. “Your wife has you by the balls, huh?”

Eris rolled his eyes good naturally. “Like yours does apparently.” 

He chuckled softly and gave his brother a knowing look. “Good. You need it. Probably even more than I do.” Izak replied and gave Eris’s scowl a pointed look. “Now get the hell out of my house. I’ve had enough of you for one day.”  

[faeriichaii]

hey I've read several of your fics and I really love your writing and I was wondering of you'd be in a mood for one thorin x reader request where thorin comes to visit bilbo in the shire some time after botfa and goes to the green dragon with him where he gets absolutely mesmerised with the reader who is a singer there?? it's heavily inspired by the song "killing me softly with her song" by Perry Como. could be any genre really. I've had this idea for so long but am absolutely terrible at writing

Symphony of Your Life ~ Thorin x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! I am happy to hear that you have enjoyed my stories so far :) I am so sorry that it took me so long to write it rip but now it is here and I hope you like it!! <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff (I think??) not proof read!!! ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.4k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ

Summary: Thorin went to visit his old friend Bilbo in the Shire once more, without expecting to be enchanted by a melodic voice that fills not just his ears but also his heart.

“I am grateful for your visit old friend.” Bilbo said, giving Thorins shoulder a pat before entering the Green Dragon Inn. “Well, it has been quite a while since we parted ways and you went back home to the shire.” The dwarven king followed after the hobbit into the filled place. People were drinking away, while telling the ones closest by about stories of their past. Others were eating away the food that was served on their plates. The inn was filled with a lively atmosphere, making Thorin relax slightly, the stress of the past months leaving his body.

Bilbo pulled out one of the wooden chairs and made himself comfortable, before looking around in search of the waitress. “So Thorin, tell me, what has been happening in Erebor after I left?” “Well, we began to slowly regain back the power Erebor once had.” Thorin sat opposite of the hobbit, before continuing with his story. “We are also making sure to not keep too much gold in the mine. Also, the trading between Mirkwood and Erebor is livelier than ever.” “Excuse me for the lil wait, but what can I get ya two fellows for the night?” A woman asked them, her eyes moving between the two men.

“I would just like to get a pint of meat for now.” The dwarven king said, his eyes moving from the waitress to the performer behind her. Soft tunes filled his ears, followed by a gentle voice telling an old tale from the past. Your mind was focused on the song you were playing and he could feel the emotions that you put into every syllable that passed your lips. Fingers gently tugging on the strings of your Lyre, making him wish to walk closer to hear even more of this beautiful melody.

“Thorin, are you alright?” Bilbo asked him, taking a sip of his drink. The king didn’t even notice that the waitress already served them their order. “Yes of course. I just am enjoying the song.” And with that he turned his attention back to you. You were walking off of the makeshift stage and danced through the small passage of people. A bright smile graced your lips as you heard a group of men hollering along with you, almost drowning your own voice with theirs. Continuing your way to every single corner and crevice of the inn, you made sure that everyone was enjoying themselves.

You loved performing. It was what made you happy, even when you were younger. Your older brother even taught you how to play the Lyre and you remember constantly joining him for his small performances in various different inns around your hometown. He was the sole reason for you now standing in the middle of a packed room, surrounded by various different people who were dancing and singing together with you. Strumming the last tune on your lyre you finished the song with a bow. Applause as well as praise was washing over you, as you looked around the crowd.

The bright faces of the people around you filling you with warmth. That was until you caught onto a pair of stale blue ones. His gentle smile was almost unnoticeable in the dark room, as you studied him a little more. You recognize him from one of the many tales that bards have sung in inns you have visited with your brother. Thorin Oakenshield. So, you rushed back onto the makeshift stage and strummed your Lyre.

“My dear guests, I really hope you enjoyed today’s performance as much as I did. This right now might sound like a farewell already, but I have one last performance before I will leave you for the night. It is a special song, most of you know.” People around you began to mumble, trying to guess which song you will play next. “As most of you already know, many songs played are retellings of famous stories of middle earth. And as you might know, me and my brother began to rewrite some of them as well. And as some of you might know, I am especially proud of the one song we wrote about the one and only Thorin Oakenshield.”

The crowd began to cheer, as you looked at the man in question. His eyes darkened at the mention of him and his life story being turned into a song. He would have expected anything, even the song of how the company and him got Erebor out of the clutches of the dragon. But his life story? How could a mere mortal even know half of his story?

You strung the first few melodies of the song. Your melancholy voice once more entrancing the people occupying the inn. Their eyes intently focused on you. But your own mind was only focused on the dwarven king right in front of him. You wanted to touch his soul with the words and retelling you once wrote together with your brother. You needed him to see that you knew his pain, even if you weren’t around him. You wanted him to know that his pain was shared and that he was not the only one who had to pass through tough times. You wanted him to know that you understood him.

Thorins heart warmed at the words that were dedicated to him. He didn’t expect you to completely put him under your spell and enchant him by the way you were telling his story. He expected things to be painful, but you made sure to put warmth and love, as well as care into every word. From the moment you mentioned the tragic death of his father, followed by the definition of his name, you thought about every little detail in his story. And it warmed his heart. You even mentioned how he conquered Erebor back for the dwarves and how he got rid of the dragon Smaug. Even the battle of the five armies was mentioned in your song. It almost felt like you have been around him since day one, watching every step he took on his journey. Almost as if you were a part of the company yourself.

After the last note passed from the Lyre and you sung the last melody of the song, you heard the applause of the people around you. Smiling brightly, you bowed once more, however your mind was still stuck onto the king who you just sung about. Letting your eyes travel across the people, you notice that the seat he had occupied during his stay in the inn was now empty. Slight pain squeezed your heart. You hated when people just left during your performances. Especially the ones the story is all about.

Descending from the small makeshift stage, you began to put away your Lyre into its case. Getting ready, to leave for the night you were stopped by a person in front of you. He was slightly shorter than you and you immediately recognized his blue eyes. “I hope I am not interrupting.” “Not at all my king.” You quickly said, straightening your posture. “I hope you liked the song. I wrote it together with my brother, as a small tribute to all the heroic things you have accomplished over the time.”

A smile graced the kings’ lips, which made you feel a little bit more at ease. “I was a little surprised, I didn’t expect to hear any song about me. Especially one that was so detailed.” You intently listened to every word that passed his lips, fingers tightly holding onto the case of your Lyre. “I did enjoy it though. It was very touching and it did make me think about some… things.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Would you perhaps consider writing more songs? I mean about the dwarven kings and maybe Erebor?”

Your eyes widened at this proposition, never expecting these words to pass Thorins lips. “My king I-“ “Just call me Thorin.” “Thorin I… don’t know what to say. This is a big honour for me and I would love to accept this offer, but why would you ask me of all the wonderful and talented people of middle earth to work on such an important project?” You asked him, still flabbergasted at the words of the king.

“Well, I do enjoy the sound of your voice and your song about my story touched my heart like none before. I also think that Erebor deserves a song of it’s own, so it would only be fitting, to ask you for this important job.” A bright smile graced your lips. “In that case, I would happily take up your offer and write the most beautiful symphony for Erebor.” Erebor, the city that once belonged to the beast called Smaug. Erebor, the city of hope and chances.

[divine0rdainment]

Adamsapple Week 

Day 2: After the Fall And Jealousy

(Pt. 2 of Taking What's Forbidden)

A/N: Hey! He's part two, again I didn't have time to edit but I don't plan to write anything tomorrow so maybe I can casually edit in my break time. Please do tell me what you think!

Tw: there is mention of Lucifers fall which contains suffering, burning, bleeding, and loosing teeth, there is also mention of Sex but I don't really show any of it! But it that bothers you please skip this part!

Falling From High

Lucifer truly did care for Adam. More then he physically understood. He would look at Adam and see Hope for a future. All that humanity could be and achieve if given the right tools and proper care. Adam was smart. He was good at learning and memorizing things he liked. 

He memorized every animal with ease and would copy their mannerisms and habits to help improve his own experience in Eden, such as swimming like the frog and climbing like a monkey, and even using rocks to break things like Otters. He was so clever! And Lucifer loved that about him. He loved when he could take breaks to watch Adam run around Eden at random with the glowing spheres that could show what is happening in other areas. It was his favorite pastime. 

Well, actually his second favorite. His first favorite were the moments he could sneak away to go to Eden and speak with Adam he's even layed next to him some tights to keep the human warm, held his hand, washed his hair, and showed him how to play the Lyre. Adam was so eager to learn anything Lucifer could teach and it filled the angel with more joy then he could muster to express without just exploding into stardust. 

But after Lilith, he had been busy. Very busy. Deep down he thinks Michael knows what he's been doing and that's why his twin has been bringing him more paperwork and tasks to complete. He had no proof of it being the case, but it was such a Michael thing to do to try and prevent Lucifer from doing anything ‘unnecessary’  or, god forbid, against the rules! Ugh! He adored his brother but his passive aggressive attempts to keep Lucifer in line were obnoxious. 

So the day he was free to visit, without Michael knowing, he teleported down to Eden faster then a blink, shooting out and looking for Adam in his usual places. The willow trees? No. The grove? Nope, the lake? No Adam. The valley of flowers? Nah. The forest? No- oh…

He was distracted from his search for Adam by the sound of crying. Lucifer frowned and flys his way through the trees until he sees not Adam, but Lilith, sitting curled up on a bed of wild flowers  in a clearing, looking up at the moon with sad beautiful eyes. And she was beautiful, Lucifer knew that. He had helped design her of course. Suggested the hair and eye color as well as how tall she was, assuming Adam would appreciate the difference in their looks. 

He soon lands by her and kneels down. “Be not afraid Lilith, I am an angel of the- AH?" Lilith yelped at the sudden voice and throws a tick at Lucifer, knocking the angels hat off and making the angel look at her in shock. 

After a moment of her green eyes watching his own she stuttered out. “An…an angel?” She asked " I'm…I'm sorry Angel, I did not mean to offend or…or harm you, you simply surprised me.” She smiled softly, rubbing her eyes of tears. Lucifer takes his hat and dusts it off. “It's alright, I should have made my presence known sooner…” he assured her. Then slowly gets closer and sits beside her. 

“Now please, what upsets you so sweet Lilith and why are you not with you husband?" 

She frowned and the tears returned as she looks away. “He doesn't like me. From the moment I was created I noticed his lack of interest in speaking to me…I thought perhaps he needed space to get used to me, but every time i try to come to him after giving him time, he avoids me…” she brings her knees to her chedt and lays her head on them, looking sadly at the flowers. 

Lucifer frowned and then gently reached to her, offering her comfort.  

“It's ok Lilith. I'm sure if you just try and bond with him, he will come to like you.” He pulls her in to a hug and sighs as the woman snuggled in closer. 

" You are his wife." He insisted.“I know Adam. He is kind and sweet and a bit silly, but underneith it all, he's GOOD. Just like you." And he takes a flower, and placed it in Lilith's hair.  The blue almost glowing in the moonlight as she looked up at him and smiles. 

“You are very nice Angel…do you really think he can come to like me…if I try harder.” 

" I do. You are beautiful and sweet. He will learn he's Mostlikly just not used to sharing Eden yet. He is young. He is learning. And you are too, so sometimes, it will lead to fights, but of you try and understand each other, to talk it out, you both will figure it out. Soon I know he will offer some kindness to you. Please take it. He is doing his best as you are…” 

She smiles and nodded "Yes Angel!" 

“Lucifer…uh, my name is Lucifer.”

She frowned thinking about it. " L-lucifer…the name is longer then mine and Adams…are all angels like that?” 

He chuckled " a few but not all…" 

The two sat quietly, enjoying the night sky together, watching as fireflies glow in the trees and grass. Magical and peaceful. For a second, Lucifer thought he heard something moving in the grass, but when he looked over he saw nothing. So he pretends to have heard nothing. 

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It was only a few weeks later that Lucifer was interrupted in his work by the sound of a scream. And every angel heard it. No angel has ever heard such a sound come from any of them before. Never heard anything like it, but they knew it was bad. And Lucifer knew it had to have come from Eden. So he teleported there, then flashes around quickly looking for the source until he comes to the river and sees Lilith going over the side. He instantly flew the fastest he ever has to reach her, grabbing her arm and then pulling her in to himself to help her hold on to him. 

“Lilith! Lilith are you harmed?! “ He asked looking her over. But she was far too upset, clinging to him and sobbing in to his kneck as she tried to calm herself. He heard sera speak up next. “How did this happen!?" Sera said “They were to stay away from the river!" 

Lucifer shushed the woman as he slowly flies down to the nearest land and settled Lilith down on the grass. . "She is upset. Let's help heal her and calm her down and we can ask. She has been through enough…” 

Sera and a few others follow. Michael, his twin with longer hair than himself, was the first to speak up after. “Where is Adam. He should have told her to be carful near the river. It was part of his knowledge. That it was dangerous…”

" H-he…" Lilith started pulling away and looking at Michael. “He p-pushed me!" She declared “A-and watched the river take me! He SMILED!" she said as she held herself, letting sera use her angelic power to heal her as she spoke. 

Lucifer looked horrified. No…no Adam would never. Adam was adorable and sweet. He's never hurt any animal in the garden, never even tried, so why would he hurt Lilith? She has done nothing!

He looked at the angels. “I'm sure there is a misunderstanding…I'll find him and inquire as to the events…perhaps it was an accident…” he said before flying high and looking around. Where did he go…where was his human?

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Lucifer spent hours flying around the garden. The place was big after all, and all the angels helping him try to find Adam had also had no luck. It was driving Lucifer in to a Field of worry. His human was missing, his sweet Adam was being accused of something so horrible! He couldn't even imagine it. He soon went twords the Apple orchard, where many many apple trees sat, he landed and looked around. “A-Adam!" He called, he could see the trees of Knowledge and Life not far from him.  Towering magesticly over the rest of the trees here. One with glowing red apples and the other with pure golden. Both beautiful and foreboding sites. 

Lucifer wandered the trees, calling out to Adam loudly with every step. “Adam please! You aren't in trouble! I'm just worried! Please come out! It's me! It's Lucif-”

" Lucifer…" 

Lucifer stops and turns to see Adam leaning against a tree, casually eating an apple, a regular red one, and looking at Lucifer with…a different kind of look in his eye. They almost seemed red in this light. But that didn't matter. Lucifer smiles and runs forward. “Adam! Oh Adam you are ok!" He runs and hugged the human, his head resting on Adams chest as he hugged him. Adam didn't hesitate to hug him back with the arm that didn't hold the apple. 

“" Never better honestly…" he said with a smile, his hand rubbing up Lucifers back and through his wings, making Lucifer shutter for a second…weird, Adams never messed with his wings without permission. Eh, it was probebly an accident. He looked up at Adam and spoke. “Adam! Lilith said you pushed her in the river! Now all the other angels are very upset, but I want to help you! Tell me what really happened and I'll explain it to them! I know you would never-" 

 “I did push her." He said simply with a shrug. “But she deserved it. Like, actually deserved it. She wasn't a good wife so I had no use for her…” his eyes looked to the ground as he spoke. Talking casually, as if what he said was the most basic knowledge in the universe. Like clouds are white and fire is hot. 

Lucifer froze and slowly lets go of him. “Oh…oh Adam you can't do that! She could have been badly hurt!” 

"I don't really care…" he said simply and suddenly dropped the apple and gripped Lucifers sides. “You know, you are so cute…” he said softly. " So utterly cute and sweet…" he leans down, distracting Lucifer as the angel blushed at the sudden complements. “I…that's not important right now! Adam I'm being serious-” 

Adams nose touched Lucifers and his Red eyes looked into Lucifers. "I don't need Lilith…" he pushed Lucifer into a tree, making the angel squeek in surprise, Lucifer looked up confused. “Adam…Adam your acting different…why…why are your eyes red…” 

"Who cares about that…" he kneels down In Front of Lucifer and tilts his head down. “I don't wanna talk about Lilith anymore. I want…well, why don't I just show you?” He leans up and warmth covers Lucifer's lips.

The angel squeeks and pulled back, but Adam followed him, holding him against the tree so he wouldn't run. Lucifer didn't understand what the Adam was doing. Yes he had seen some angels kiss, but him and Adam kissing? He wasn't supposed to kiss Lucifer. He was supposed to kiss Lilith! Be with Lilith! Why…why did he like it so much that Adam wanted him instead tho? 

His hands move to Adams kneck suddenly and wrap around his hair and shoulder, kissing back before he could even try to stop himself. This was wrong. This was against God's rules! This was bad!!! And yet, the second Adam deepened the kiss and pushed something warm inside his mouth, Lucifer was unable to resist even if he wanted to. He clung to Adam like a koala clung to a tree. Desperate to not lose Adam’s heat and touch. He even followed Adam as the human pulled away this time. Whining at the loss of contact only to blush when he realizes the noise he made. 

It only caused a chuckle from Adam who nuzzles his nose against the angels kneck. “Shhh it's ok, we aren't done…” he soon wrapped his arms around Lucifer and picked him up so it was easier to kiss him with the height difference. Lucifer Squeaks and looks at the other, blushing at being so easily manhandled by the human, his eyes lingered on Adams, still mesmerized by the Amber eyes turning a deep garnet. Almost seeming to turn more red the longer he looked at them. 

“Not done? What…what do you-” then he feels Adam kiss his neck, and the noise Licifer makes causes him to bring a hand to his mouth in horror. Oh by his father what is Adam doing?!

“Adam! W-wait! You can't do that! We are already in enough trouble!" He said struggling a bit despite how he longed for what Adam was giving him. A part of him wanting to save what they had before and bother desperately craving the new and foreign feelings. He feels the other touch him more and more and after a bit, he stopped fighting, and gave in to Adams touch. He never really could resist Adam…could he? 

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Lucifer layed against the grass, eyes dazed. What has he done…by his father what had he DONE? Well, he knew what it was, but he could not believe he gave in so easily to Adam. He felt like he had taken advantage in a way, Adam was naive! Young and didn't understand why it was bad! He should have resisted. Lucifer was the angel, and now they were both in deeper trouble than they knew. Beside him laying Adam, quiet and watching Lucifer with a smirk, one that Lucifer avoided looking at for fear of a repeat of the last hour of events. Yes. An hour. They had committed such a crime together for AN HOUR! And realizing that sent Lucifer in to a blushing mess. He soon reached for his robe and covered himself, wanting to hide the bites and scratches and bruises he had sustained from their activities. But Adam gripped his waist. “Stay…” he ordered, making Lucifer shiver. 

“We…we have to find the other angels Adam…we have to tell them what happened…” he said softly, but Adam just turned lucifer to look at him, the smirk gone and replaced with pleading eyes. "Lucifer…please don't go again…" he sits up and pulled LUCIFERS back into his chest. 

“I don't care if what we did was wrong. Or if god and all of heaven wants me to vanish for this…I need you. I wanted you from the moment I met you.” He nuzzles him. "And I know pushing Lilith in the river was…was bad. Or at least I know it was bad now, but…but I dont care!” He nuzzles his head in to Lucifers hair. " You hugged her! You called her beautiful! You treated her like you treated me! It wasn't fair! You are MY angel! Not hers! She can have any other angel in heaven but…but not you. I didn't like it! I wanted her GONE!!!!” he declared aggressively, holding Lucifer so much tighter than before.

If Lucifer wasn't an angel, the grip would have hurt. And it did leave the angel feeling a bit uncomfortable. He looked up at Adam as best he could from the backwards hug and sighed. “I'm not yours to have. I am god's angel…heavens angel. And I'm not an object either. I have my own thoughts and feelings-”

" I know…I know that while your an angel, I can't have you …” his hands move down to Lucifers stomach. "So…I had to make you do something that would make you no longer an angel. Angels are pure.. “ Adam leans down and whispers in his ear. "and now…now you are anything but…" 

Lucifer is quiet, looking more and more worried as he tries to understand what Adam just said, but was soon interrupted by the sound of wings. He gasped and tried to get free of Adams grip to get the robe but it was far too late. 

Standing Infront of him was Michael, looking absolutely infuriated. “Lucifer….” His voice was low and crisp, riddled with barely contained rage. 

" Lucifer, what did you do…." 

Lucifer stuttered and looked at Michael, tears coming to his beautiful blue eyes. “I…Michael I'm sorry I didn't ..I'm not….it was!” He struggled for words and soon pushed Adam away and got on to his knees. " Michael please! Please dont be mad at Adam! I- it was my my fault, he didn't understand what he'd done! I did! Please-” 

"YOU GAVE HIM THE APPLE?!” 

Lucifer goes quiet. " W-what? No..I..I didn't…ah!!" 

Michael slapped Lucifer, hard, sending the angel to the ground hard enough to cause golden blood to leak to the ground from the angels mouth. 

“YOU LYING PIECE OF WASTED SPACE! I trusted you! I gave you time and space! I let you be close with him thinking it would cause no damage! And then you do this?! You give him an apple and then you FORNICATED with him?! Do you understand the gravity of what you have done?! Do you even care?!” he raised his hand to slap Lucifer again till Adam pulled Lucifer to his chest. Growling at the Arch angel in warning. 

" DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!!!" 

Lucifer coward as Michael faltered in his strike. He clenched he hand in to a fist and punched a tree, knocking it a few miles away from the deer impact. “Lucifer! You are to be punished immediately! And then a trial will be given to decide your fate! You will answer for this transgression!” 

Lucifer shakes, confused and scared for the first time in his life truly scared. He knows he did wrong, he does, but this…this was too much. What did Michael mean about giving him an apple…then slowly he looked up at Adam, and then behind him to see the tree of knowledge. The red apples glowing bright. Oh no…no did Adam…he couldn't have. He wouldn't! And yet …Adams eyes changed ging color. The change in his misdemeanor. The things he did with him that he shouldn't know how to do…

He looked at Adam in horror for a few seconds till suddenly lifer feels a hand on his arm, yanking him roughly from Adams hold and on to his feet. Then a snap is heard and golden chains wrap around Lucifers arms and knock, keeping him attacked to Michael. The taller angel glairing at Adam. “And you will be having a trial as well, for eating the apple and for trying to harm your fellow human…” he growled, but adam looked at him woth no fear. Just pure determination. " And you will be punished along with Lucifer for your actions…” 

Adam slowly smiles. " Can't wait…" he said, challenging Michael in some way.  Lucifer is stuck there, confused and in shock. He had no idea what would happen next. 

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The trial took multiple days to complete, Lucifer explaining everything from the begining. Telling the truth. But the truth sadly did not gain him much favor, even if he was not the one to give Adam the apple. He still committed a great sin with Adam. He defiled himself and Adam, and the ways they described it made Lucifer feel gross. Like his body was a disgusting tool used to harm Adam. He hated every second of the angels judging and yelling at him. Demanding answers, to know if Lucifer planned it. He hadn't…but it was clear Adam had, somehow. The way he spoke about it with facts and no emotion. Not even giving any explanations as why, just that “he wanted to" and " Lilith deserved it.” 

The trial ended predictably. Both were found guilty. And this both would be punished. Sera sat on a pedestal looking down at the chained angel and human with contempt, Michael beside her. 

“As punishment for your Sins, you will both be banished from Heaven, Eden, and Earth, to wander the desolate lands of hell!" She declared. “God has shown me this is the only place you can be sent where the evil you have released will not spread farther than it already has. And Becuse of the actions you have taken, all humans who dare to commit to sin as you have will be dropped to there after their death instead of being graced with the holy light of heaven! 

Lucifer looked horrified and shook his head, but Adam only smiled as he looked at his prize before him. His sweet angel and him being stuck together in a land without anyone else? Sounded like heaven to him. 

Then suddenly, the chains where gone, but just as quickly, he felt himself falling. Through the floor and clouds, Adam beside him yelpingin insuprise at the loss of footing. They see the clouds of heaven fade from veiw and darkness surrounds them both. Adam reached out as Lucifer tried to use his wings only to scream on utter pain as they started to catch fire. His eyes widening and tears flowing. How felt his teeth loosen in his mouth and be pushed out, causing golden blood to leak, 

The angel was in pain as his hands and legs started to feel as on fire as his wings. Even as Adam gripped on to him, red blood dripping from his forehead as he felt so ethi g push past his skull, somthing he was too busy to care about as he held on to his angel. His poor screaming angel as his nails are pushed out by claws, as his feet morphed into hooves slowly, the bones in his knees breaking before reforming into the right shape. And the wings burned up, all the feathers seemed to practically melt under the heat, leaving bone in their place as Lucifer screams filled the air. Adam knew that he could hear what they were doing to them. And all Adam could do was cling to him, hold him close and whisper that it was ok, and they were going to be ok. He felt LUCIFER'S hands on his back and felt the sharp claws digging into his body, trying to grip onto anything, Adam bleeds out more, but doesn't care. All he cared about was his Lucifer. His sweet Lucifer. 

“I'm sorry…” he whispers " I'm so sorry Lucifer this is all my fault…” he whispered " i'm so sorry my sweet sweet angel…" he started to cry himself as he continued to hear how much pain Lucifer was in. 

And then, he looked down over Lucifers shoulder and saw red ground. They were going to crash it and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it. So he closed his eyes and whispers “I love you…” and then the pain crashed through both of them as they created an explosive mushroom cloud of red dust in the area. The impact took out anything nearby and blew it far away. 

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When Lucifer awoke, he felt like death, or the closest thing to it. Everything ached. His head, his back, his teeth and hands, he felt like something was poking out of his spine that was never there before and it felt damaged…

He looked around to see he was laying on a crater like the ones on the moon. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, or why he was here. He didn't know why it all hurt to just breath. Then he managed to move his head enough to see…a pair of large horns? Like a goat…brown hair was under the horns and under that…a face? Was…was that…red blood? Adam? Oh no, ADAM!

He reached up despite his bodies protests and gently gripped the others cheek “a-ad-ad-dam…” he choked out, his throat hurt from screaming so much, he'd never felt pain like this. But he pushed through it as he tried to wake Adam up and make sure he was ok. His sweet human needed to be ok…

After a few seconds, Adam groaned and curled in on himself, clearly in pain too. Lucifer sighed in relief but the good feeling was gone as he looked at the sky and saw…heaven…

The white and cloud covered orb in the sky. His home. His and Adams. They were never allowed to go back…tears fell down Lucifer's dust covered face, his hands shaking as he still struggled to breath. “...no…oh father why…why did this happen…” he called out in a scratchy voice. " Was…was this your plan? From the start? Why…why did this happen? What was the p-point!!!” He demanded only to start coughing up dust from his lungs that he breathed in while passed out. If he was a human he would have died from the amount of dust in the air. 

Adam groaned and slowly sat up, his eyes blinking and he coughed some as well, dust inside his lungs now too as he looked over at Lucifer, seeing his angel and gasped “l…Lucifer…your…head…” 

Lucifer didn't know what he meant, his hand moved up and he felt pain as he touched something hard…horns. He had horns like Adam that had pushed their way past his skin. He moved down to touch the sides of them, sensitive as they were. His helo was gone as well, Adam had noticed. And his teeth…sharp like lions. Or a shark even. When Lucifer licked his lips, he cut his tongue on his teeth and cursed as his sticks his tongue out and let Adam see it was longer than before and replaced it with a cut in the center of it, dividing it into two parts. Like a snake tongue. Oh no…what has happened to them. 

Lucifer touched his face more and noticed his hands were black and covered in claws instead of regular nails, and they looked black and sharp, dangerous. He looked at Adam and guled as his wings shifted. The feathers are still badly burnt and slowly regrowing new ones. But they were red…not the pure white they once were. 

Adam examined every part of him and sighed, touching the man's cheek. “My angel, you…you are hurt…we should find some water and clean up…then…then find a place to rest…” he whispered. "We can go from there…then decide what we should do.” 

After a bit, Lucifer agreed and slowly went to move, his legs hurt the worst as he looked down and saw…hooves. Red and black hooves like a sheep…fuck he hated this. Is this part of the punishment? Was this to Nick him by taking away his angelic beauty? Why?!

He is helped up by Adam who looked mostly human except the horns and now golden and red eyes. Red sclera and golden pupils. Lucifer's eyes were the opposite color. Not that Adam minded…it was still his angel. And they were still together. And they would figure out where to go from here…even if it took some time. 

He glanced up at heaven, and smiled. One day…one day they would pay for the pain they caused. But for now, he'd let them be, and focus on his beloved. 

“Come Lucifer…I will take care of you…” 

[curious-trickster]

Do you have a topic you can give a speech about with no research? Would you like to share the speech?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer

Everyone who knows me could immediately answer the question with: "Hermes".

He is my favourite god. The best greek god there is in my opinion.

He's a son of Zeus, but he acts nothing like his father. Most people think him not as important as the other gods of the greek pantheon, but they are wrong. He was special right from the start. Hermes was born and immediately started proofing how intelligent he was, by inventing the lyre and several other things, stealing his older brother Apollo's holy cows, making them walk backwards to cause confusion, acted as though he was completely innocent and got himself a place on Olympus, all within the first three days of being born!

He showed how calculating he could be even after only being born, for the only reason he stole Apollo's cows was to ensure he would catch the attention of Olympus and therefore his father, who is king of the gods, and that he would get himself recognised as important for Olympus.

And he did it all so charmingly, that even Apollo, as angry as he was about the theft of his cows, had to laugh because Hermes was acting way too cute.

Hermes is not only a glorified mailman, no, he is Zeus herald and acts in his will, which is obviously a very important position.

He is able to travel very fast, over the land and the sea, due to his winged sandals. Some even give him the ability to become invisible, as he might have gotten the cap of invisibility from Hades himself as a gift!

But even more important for the humans was his position as psychopompos, which literally translates to 'guide of souls'. Yes, Thanatos is the god associated with death, but Hermes is the one who guides the souls down to Hades and gives them over to Charon, who takes them the rest of the way.

Hermes has another connection to the underworld though, as he is the only Olympian god who is also able to travel through the underworld, proofing yet again, how special he is.

Hermes literally get called the god that likes to interact with humanity the most in the Iliad. He does not only guide the dead, no, he frequently appears in myths and stories as the guide or companion of human heroes. Not only in the Iliad, where he accompanied Priamos to Achilles, so the king kf Troy was able to get thr body of Hektor back, but also stories like Orpheus and Eurydice, and several more.

I know of only one story where Hermes killed some with extreme prejudice, which is an pretty good status for a olympian god.

Hermes was also associated with change, borders, travel, trickery and theft, diplomacy, the gymnasion, transition, luck and several more things. He's a versatile god!

In case of children, Hermes also proofs to be interesting. Odysseus, who is frequently called the most intelligent greek is a descendant of Hermes. The Hermaphrodite, is the child of Hermes and Aphrodite, which is very interesting if one remembers the fact about Hermes being a god of transition.

Hermes is everything. He is a god who interacts with humanity but without malice, he's helpful and mischievous, a trickster but no bully.

Hermes is simply the best, in my opinion.

[m1d-45]

stella fortuna

summary: ventis entry for my previous (formal) post, aka a minor character study. this was meant to be up 3 days ago :)

word count: 1k

-> warnings: massive spoilers for mondstat archon quest

-> gn reader (no pronouns)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24

< original post || < masterlist >

if you asked venti how he felt, seeing everybody in mondstat be chosen as a vessel but him, you’d get the same answer every time, no matter where or when. even drunk, flopped over the bar with an empty glass in hand, he recites the exact same response as if it’s been committed to memory.

“what need does a bard have for divine strength? i’m glad my friends get to go on adventures, but my place has always been to tell stories, not to write them.”

if you were to listen closely, past the sheen of charisma that coated all of his words, past the mask of a bard and into the heart of the wind, you’d hear the lie.

the memorized words, a paper-thin front over his true feelings, only hide the truth from those who don’t care to find it. the drip of wine only makes this clearer; put a bottle in his hand and watch how quickly his eyes turn blank, how the smile pulling at his features feels forced. the same words, the same lie, the same turmoil that surrounds his every action. confusion is hidden in the downturn of his eyes and something akin to desperation hides in the tilt of the bottle, yet his words come out as sugar-sweet as his drink.

“it doesn’t bother me. why should it?”

it shouldn’t.

he shouldn’t be jealous. he shouldn’t be surprised that mortals were blessed first over a god, he shouldn’t be examining his own skill set for faults. he’s an archon. one without his gnosis, sure, one with the least power from his people, sure, but an archon nonetheless. he still wields anemo with more strength than anybody in mondstat could dream of, the winds still bend to his will, he still challenges amber to an archery contest if the day is slow and he still wins, even with her extra star on her side.

venti doesn’t need acknowledgment from his god, not when there are so many mortals that deserve it. not when hilichurls still fall before his bow, not when his windcurrents still carry pets and children and kites from trees, when the whisper of a breeze alerts knights to a threat at his bidding.

(but he wants it)

none of the other archons have received divine blessings, he’s not even an outlier in that sense. he’s not an exception to the rule, he is the rule, and yet he finds himself wishing it would bend anyway. he should count himself lucky, in truth, that a vessel of his element is always at his gods side. he should be happy that the creator found joy in his domain, that some of the highest favored bore his winged seal. he should take pride in the fact that the head of mondstat’s church was given 6 stars, share diluc’s joy in having his vision burn brighter. he should put a bottle on his step for the darknight hero to enjoy, in celebration of his crimson flames searing hotter than ever.

so why can’t he?

venti couldn’t hide the way his fingers faltered at the wash of divine power coming from the door to the angel’s share, nor the haste with which he looked over. his hand still strummed his lyre, but he let the reprise go on for a bit longer than it should have, letting himself take in the uncharacteristic nod diluc sent his brother before moving to the back room.

kaeya’s eye caught his the moment before he looked away, something knowing in the ice. with a slight lift of his hand, he downed the rest of the wine in his glass.

venti looked away, the finale of his tale finally falling from his lips.

it was late, most of the patrons far past sober, their minds too soaked in alcohol to register the flatness to his voice. when he ended his story with a flourish, skipping the last few bars of the melody, all but one cheered.

the exception joined the outlier, tucking his lyre into his inventory. venti flagged the bartender, kaeya kindly waiting until he had wine in his hand to speak.

“why the long face?”

he looked over, glass half-raised to his lips. the captain seemed… genuine, almost, something knowing in his eyes. whether it was his usual charisma or not didn’t matter, not really—gods saw easily through mortal lies—but he knew it wasn’t anyway.

venti set down his cup. “what do you mean? after a long night of playing, i’m reaping my rewards. what reason do i have to be sad?”

kaeya tipped out his glass for charles to refill, sending him a nod of thanks before turning back to him. his eye skipped over his features, never landing on one for too long: the flower in his cap, the dimness of his eyes, the grip on his glass, all picked up and turned over and assessed.

he drew a conclusion, taking a soft sip of wine. “i don’t know, venti. you tell me.”

what reason did he have to be sad?

by all accounts, tonight was a good night. he’d made quite a bit of mora, he was having a nice drink, he’d turn in a bit earlier than usual and wake up with the sun, feeling the air warm around him as he roamed the city’s dawn. nothing large, or awful, or tragic. nothing… nothing.

ventis eyes slipped, falling to the ice on the captain’s hip, to the peacock he couldn’t see, but the glitter he could feel. the sheen of heaven that dusted the calvary captain’s presence, lending him that much more credibility.

he found kaeya’s eye again, catching himself, but it didn’t matter. the humor had already dulled, understanding flashing back at him.

in the city of wine and song, mondstat’s archon indulged in both.

[a-french-coconut]

Protector of Youth

Chapter 3 : Asclepius

He should have known it would end like this, standing over a dead body.

He is famous for his terrible love affairs.

Daphne, Hyacinthus and now Coronis.

He softly caresses her white, cold face, eyes open and wide of terror.

He chuckles, her sister certainly was a terrifying sight when she was furious.

And how furious you made her little princess, how furious you made me.

"Foolish girl," he scowls, "thinking you could hide your disloyalty from us."

"She got what she deserved," Artemis says coldly, her silver arrow embedded in Coronis' throat, "she's lucky to have suffered such a quick death."

"Now, now sister," he warns her, "that woman once hold my heart in her hands, she is worthy of what you graciously offered her."

"If you say so brother, now what will you do with the boy you gave her ?"

"Save him, he is mine after all."

Carefully, he pries open the woman's stomach and takes the small baby in his arms.

As soon as the cold air hits him, the little boy begins to cry, his wails piercing even Apollo's ears.

"See ?" He says with satisfaction to Artemis, "he holds divine within him, no mortal boy could scream that loud or even survive being taken out of their mother's womb like this."

"Indeed, he is your son, how will you name him ?"

"Asclepius," he whispers, "he is to be named Asclepius."

He cradles the small infant in his arms, half scared of crushing him when he feels the fragility of his bones.

"A wonder isn't it ?" He marvels at his son, "so many dangers in our world and yet, despite their frail constitution, the mortal children grow into men."

"I'm afraid yours won't go far now that his mother is dead." Artemis says from over his shoulder, with an edge to her voice, "and you cannot raise him brother, it is against our rules."

"I am aware of those rules and that is why Chiron will take of the child." He stands up, "you may leave me, I will go to Mount Pelion and I understand if that matter does not concern you."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffs, hitting him lightly with her bow, "that boy is my nephew and he will be treated as such."

Apollo smiles gratefully at his sister and both of them vanish in shows of light.

--------------------------

"Father !" A young blond boy yells happily, tackling Apollo into a hug.

"Asclepius !" He spins his son in the air, smiling broadly at him, "you have grown since the last time I saw you !"

His son laughs, looking at him with wide blue eyes filled with innocence and glee.

"Indeed, and into a fine young boy may I add." An amused voice says from behind Apollo.

"Chiron, old friend," he greets the centaur with a nod, still holding Asclepius in his arms, "I am glad to see you."

"As do I Lord Apollo," Chiron bows his head in respect.

"Father," his son squeals excitedly in his hold, "I have learnt to play the lyre, could I show you my progress ?"

"Of course ! Go, fetch your lyre and come back."

Asclepius runs in the cave, leaving Apollo and Chiron alone.

"He is a wonderful child of yours, gifted in healing particularly."

"Yes, he will be praised by the mortals of Epidaurus when he is of age." He beams proudly, thinking of the marvels his son will accomplish.

"Have the Fates grace you with any insights ?" The centaur requires.

"No, they aren't keen of doing that when it comes to my blood," he says bitterly, "but Asclepius will not be of the likes of Heracles or Theseus. He will be known for his kindness, not by killing monsters."

"Apollo," Chiron looks at him with wise eyes, "you are very fond of the boy, more than others you sent my way. When his time comes-"

"There's no need to discuss this further Chiron," Apollo cuts him off curtly, "he has only lived through eleven winters, he is far from joining Hades' realm."

"When his time comes, as it will inevitably do," Chiron continues calmly, "I must ask of you not to act harshly. You are known for your untempered wrath and it has never ended well for you."

Apollo cannot answer for his son reappears, holding proudly a lyre and beckoning him to seat next to him.

He obliges and they spend the afternoon together, eating sweet figs and honey, Apollo sometimes helping his son with hands placement or how to string a chord to make a specific sound.

Chiron leave them, letting him enjoy his cherished time with his son, but his words linger in his mind, echoing and tarnishing his smile.

"Father ?" His son looks at him, head tilted, "what is wrong ?"

"Something Chiron told me, but do not worry and resume your playing, it is of the most charming to hear."

Asclepius shrugs and soon, a melodious harmony echoes in the air.

As he plays, Apollo watches him.

Blue eyes, golden hair, tanned skin.

He is undeniably his son, a demigod under the care of Chiron, trainer of Heroes.

And yet, he knows Asclepius won't be a monster slayer or a mighty warrior.

Even if the Fates tamper with his vision, he is certain his son will be the most gifted healer in Greece, a man liked by everyone as he will save countless.

His son is safe, he's sure.

Nobody would kill a healer.

---------------------------

Time flies and Asclepius is now a young man, fresh into adulthood.

As Apollo foresighted, he is known in all of Greece, praised for being able to heal all injuries and illnesses.

And to his even greater pride, Artemis often visits her nephew, bringing him gifts from her hunts.

She isn't the only goddess to offer him presents.

"It's not like you to meddle with demigods like my son, you usually favour war heroes."

"I have no need of this gorgon blood," Athena says as they walk through Olympus' gardens, "might as well put it in good hands."

"How wise of you sister," he smiles at her only to find her troubled, "still upset about Athens, are you ?"

"Of course I am !" She scoffs, "A son of our uncle on my city's throne ? It's pure and blatant disrespect, he's still bitter of losing !"

"Theseus might not be the best, but his son Hippolytus often hunts with Artemis, he seems like a respectable man."

"He must be if your sister welcomes him in her hunts," Athena admits, "I suppose he is fitted to rule once Theseus dies."

"I'm sure Dionysus would be thrilled to hear of his death," Apollo says, amused, "he hasn't forgiven him for abandoning Ariadne on Naxos."

"And now he is marrying her sister, Phaedra. Good political move, joining Athens and Crete so that Minos' debacle doesn't happen again."

"Careful Athena, someone might hear a hint of praise in your voice." he whispers, making a show of making sure they're alone.

She rolls her eyes but indulges him a smile nonetheless.

"Hermes has been spending a lot of time in your company, has he not ?"

"Are you implying I am humourless without him ?"

"I merely imply that your tales used to be of good taste."

"Careful he doesn't hear you," Apollo laughs, "he is quite spiteful when it comes to his beloved tricks and jokes."

"I'll survive him," she says drily, "now don't you artists to inspire ? It's been a while since I heard the Muses sing on Olympus."

"I may have spend more time than I thought with Asclepius," he shrugs sheepishly, "but now that he is a man, he can be on his own."

"You will not protect him ?"

"Of course I will ! He may not be a young child now but he is still mine." He snaps, offended by her implication, "I will always protect my children, wether they are young or old."

"Be careful of your emotions Apollo" she warns him, "do not let them control you when it comes to mortals, you will regret it."

"Don't fear Athena, I have no reason to succumb to them," he reassure his sister, "no one will harm my son for he hasn't done anything to deserve such treatment."

------------------------------

Aphrodite watches a young man with a bow strapped on his back making his way to King Theseus' palace.

She sees him greeting his father as a prince should to his king, bowing his head in respect, and grant one too to his new queen.

Phaedra is, like her sister Ariadne, a woman of great beauty. Nothing surprising there, as she is of divine lineage.

Standing there, draped with the finest silk in Greece and shining gold jewels, she is magnificent.

She expects to feel in the young man some kind of desire, arousal like any other men would at the sight of the daughter of Minos.

But he stays cold, indifferent and soon depart from the throne room, not a single thought about the beauty he just met.

With seething rage, she sees him kneeling in front of an altar dedicated to Artemis, the young man thanking the maiden for letting him join her hunts, for allowing him to run besides her in the forest.

A sneer disfigures her gracious face when she hears him reject love and physical attraction, talking about her domains with disgust.

"Eros !" She calls upon her cherished son who, loyal as ever, appears next to her, "my dear son, I need you to hit someone with one of your arrows."

"Of course, mother. Who is the arrogant mortal ?" He inquires, already notching an arrow.

"The son of Theseus, but he is not your target." She looks back on earth, where Phaedra is in her chambers, looking outside by the window, "she is."

-------------------------------

He is in Atlantis when he hears his son's vengeful demands.

Theseus is Poseidon's pride and joy, not only for being a hero but also for seating on the throne of Athens, the loss of the city to Athena still a bitter subject for him.

But what he is asking...

There is no worse crime than shedding your own blood, than killing your family.

As divine beings, they are exempt of the rule because they cannot kill each other, despite their best's attempts to do so.

But Theseus is mortal and he is asking of Poseidon to kill Hippolytus, his own son.

The god of the sea frowns, swaying his trident in deep thought.

His son is his pride and joy, clearly fit to rule and he has proven himself a wise man.

As Hippolytus' char races on the stony path of the steep cliffs, Poseidon sends two sea serpents near the coast of Attica.

------------------------------

He is chilling on a tree, plucking lazily his lyre, when he feels the pull of soul in need of guidance.

He adjusts his helmet and sandals, there's no need to repeat last century's debacle, and speeds toward the source.

"Hello, young man," Hermes says cheerfully to the soul awaiting him, "I would ask you how your way was going but-" He grins sheepishly, "I think I know the answer."

"I- I'm dead."

"Yes, rather unfortunately."

The soul doesn't move, staring at the ground.

"Always a shock for you mortals." Hermes sighs, taking gently but firmly the young man's arm, "Come along, you are no longer a part of the living world."

He could rush them to the Underworld, dropping the soul on the Styx's bank but the man seems so lost, Hermes figures he can waste some time keeping him company.

"Do you have payment ?" He asks him as they walk, invisible to livings things.

"No !" says the soul with panic, "I didn't expect to die !"

"Take this, I'm feeling gracious today." He hands him two golden drachmas, "didn't expect to die you say ? Where were you going ?"

"My father, King Theseus, exiled me for a crime I did not commit."

Theseus' son... He's sure that he's already heard of him.... Aphrodite ? yes, yes, she was ranting about how disrespectful the boy was ! Or was it Artemis ? He's sure Artemis already mentioned him...

"You're Hippolytus !" Hermes snaps his fingers when he remembers, "the mortal man hunting alongside Artemis' group."

"Oh ! Lady Artemis !" Hippolytus laments, "please Lord Hermes, please tell her that I was falsely accused !"

"Of what ?" He inquires, rather curious about the whole thing.

"My father's new woman, Phaedra, tried to sleep with and when I refused, she told my father I had abused her !" He snarls, "Apparently, my father believed her more than me and exiled me."

"That's- quite the story." Hermes says.

And one with divine intervention at that too ! He's sure of it.

Aphrodite was too furious about the boy not to do anything about it.

"And then, two sea serpents attacked me !" The young man rants one, gesturing wildly, "the horses got frightened and- I fell off and hit my head against a sharp rock." He finishes glumly.

And it seems Poseidon played a hand in this too.

"I will deliver the news to Artemis," he reassures the son of Theseus, "but I am sure she doesn't believe Phaedra. If she let you join her hunt, she'll know you didn't do it."

"Thank you Lord Hermes."

"Always happy to deliver !" He grins, "but this is where we part ways, I wish you best of luck for your trial."

They have reached the Underworld's entrance and while he should accompany him until the Styx, he wants to warn Artemis before she hears it from someone else. She had truly befriended the mortal and there is no doubt his death will sadden her.

------------------------------

Artemis is waiting, patience reaching its limit.

Her huntresses are getting restless, itching for the hunt to begin and so is she.

"My Lady," her lieutenant asks, "how much time must we wait for the boy ?"

"He has never been late before and as such, I will allow him this misstep. When he arrives, I'll make clear that this situation must never happen again. But as for now Zoe, we wait until he is here."

Zoe nods and goes spread her orders, eliciting groans and scoffs from her sisters.

Artemis does not blame them for she is herself surprised wit her leniency.

A boy hunting with her, something she had thought impossible, except for Apollo of course.

However, Hippolytus has shown his devotion to her and has proven himself good company.

While he is still boastful and pride like any young man is, he knows when to bow and show respect to her huntresses and her, the goddess he worships.

"Something's coming !" Phoebe alerts and indeed, horses are running wildly towards them in a cloud of dust.

A sharp edge of uneasiness pierces her mind but Artemis ignores it, watching the horses getting nearer and nearer.

They are dragging a chariot, she realises.

One without driver.

When the animals stop panting in front of her, she is proven wrong.

There once had been a driver but he lays now dead and covered in dust from all the way the horses dragged him.

It's with horror that she recognises Hippolytus' face, his eyes devoid of like and staring blankly at the blue sky.

She softly cleans his face, dusting off the dirt and caked blood, while silver tears fall on the ground.

Her, the maiden goddess, crying over a dead man.

"My Lady," Zoe rests her hand on her shoulder, "we should give him a proper funeral, let his soul rest at last."

"No."

"No ?" The huntress staggers back surprised, "I thought he was worthy of your friendship !"

"He is, and that is why he will not die today." Artemis says with resolution, scooping the dead body in her arms, "Go to Athens and warn Theseus of this... event."

"Artemis", Zoe whispers, "forgive me the disrespect but nobody can bring back the dead from Lord Hades' realm."

"I believe you are wrong my dear Zoe, there is someone capable of this feat. When your task is done, come find me at Epidaurus."

With a bright flash, the goddess vanishes with Hippolytus' corpse.

Zoe is Artemis' most loyal sister, she is devoted to the goddess and will be until the Fates deem to cut her string.

"Sisters, come !" She orders at other girls, "Our Lady wishes us to come to Athens and warn King Theseus of this tragedy, then we will join her at Epidaurus."

"All of this for a man ?" Phoebe scoffs.

"It is not our place to question her Phoebe, if he is has gained her sympathy then he must be a good man." Zoe defends the goddess.

The daughter of Apollo scowls but stays silent.

As they journey towards Athens, Zoe thinks of a man in a garden.

Would that one come to die, she would sooner dance and celebrate than try to bring him back.

She hears the wind blowing fast and suddenly, Hermes is in front of her, the usually bright face of the trickster now grim.

"Lord Hermes," she bows, the rest of her sisters following her gesture, "what brings you here ?"

"The young man Artemis has befriended is dead." Hermes says sadly before frowning, "you don't seem very surprised."

"We stumbled on his body, we were on our way to tell King Theseus."

"Oh that won't be necessary since he is the one who asked the Earthshaker to kill Hippolytus." Hermes says brightly, "no message to deliver then !"

As fast as he appeared, the god of thieves disappears.

For one minute, Zoe tries to understand the new information she has before giving up.

"Well then," she turns to the huntresses, "we go to Epidaurus."

----------------------

"Asclepius !" A voice startles him.

"Asclepius, I need your help !" He knows that voice.

"Lady Artemis," he greets cheerfully his aunt, "how can I help you ?"

When she presents him the dead body, his bright demeanour vanishes.

"My Lady... he is dead. I cannot bring him back."

"You are the most gifted child of my brother," she refutes, "so versed in the healing arts that you surpass him. Please, find a way. I know you can."

"I-" he wavers, looking at the tear-eyed goddess, "I can't guarantee it would work but maybe... gorgon blood is most wonderful.... and mixed with snake's poison... a flower for healing..." he hesitates, "I suppose it could work."

He hastily makes his way into his chamber to grab all the ingredients.

"Let's see," he mumbles, "poison of an earth creature, breaking the bind with the Underworld... a sun-touched flower from Delos to greet the soul into the living realm and-" he pauses, the open vial floating upside the cauldron, "and gorgon's blood, form the left side, to bring back the soul."

He stirs the mixture until it is clear and scoops some of it.

Carefully, he pours it into Hippolytus' mouth.

The man's eyes open instantly, the body jolting back to life as its soul is back.

"What- I was waiting for Charon by the river- and then..." He sees Artemis and falls on his knees," My Lady ! Please, I did not do it, I have stayed true to you and your values."

"Hippolytus," the goddess smiles, "there is no need to panic. I do not know of what you have been accused of and it doesn't matter for I believe you."

"Thank you" she looks at Asclepius, "for bringing him back. You are truly a prodigy, my brother couldn't be more proud."

"Thank you, My Lady." He answers softly, pride warming his body at Apollo's mention.

It's the last thing he feels before white hot searing pain set his body aflame.

-----------------------------

When Apollo discover his son's death, the whole word endure his grief.

His screams, ethereal sounds of discord and strife, echo on all Olympus, deafening all its population.

"Who ?" He growls, eyes a pure gold, "who did this ?"

It's Hermes who gives him an answer, his brother looking warily at the heat waves he is emitting.

"Asclepius brought someone back from the dead, Hades didn't like it and ask our father justice."

"The only justice he found was killing my son !" He roars and the ground beneath him cracks.

"Well," Hermes sweats nervously, looking ready to dash off, "a soul for a soul ?"

"A soul for a soul, you say ?" He snarls, conjuring his bow, "very well then."

"Wait, Apollo-" Hermes screams with worry at his brother, "Apollo, don't do anything rash !"

But Apollo doesn't listen, doesn't care.

All he knows is that his father killed his son.

His bright, kind, wonderful son.

Distantly, he hears Chiron and Athena in his mind, their words of advice resonating.

They are drowned by a wave of grief and lust for vengeance, blinding him and all he can thing about is hurting Zeus.

How ?

How can he inflict such pain on his father ?

Killing his children ? No, he will not step that low.

Then who ?

He looks at his bow, masterfully crafted by cyclops when his father still loved him.

Cyclops.

The ones who forged the lightning bolt.

He takes three arrows from his quiver and his bow.

Zeus will be furious, a small voice hisses at him, absolutely livid !

He falters, his skin prickling as he remembers the lightning's touch on him.

Is he worth it ? the voice persists, is he worth the pain ?

Asclepius and his wide, blue, innocent eyes.

Asclepius and his kindness, healing whoever came to him for help.

His Asclepius, his son.

His young boy that he failed to protect.

Apollo disappears in a show of harsh, blinding golden light.

----------------------------

They greet him with open arms, surprised of his visit but pleased.

"Not much company," one groans, "except Hephaestus sometimes."

They go down quickly, too slow for his arrows, too shocked by his attack.

As he stands covered in their dust, he wonders avidly if his father knows.

He wants him to.

He wants to Zeus to bellow in rage when he sees that Apollo slaughtered his cyclops.

He wants him to suffer.

He knows he'll pay the price, painfully so, but he thinks of Asclepius and doesn't regret his actions.

Not even when thunder rumbles, when white lightning scars the sky.

Not even when he is summoned to Olympus and Zeus beats him to the ground, leaving him bloody and scorched.

His father brutally grabs his throat and holds against one of the white columns of the throne room.

"Tell me foolish boy," the king snarls, "what were you trying to accomplish ?"

"You kill my son and expect me to do nothing ?" He roars back, trashing against his father's painful grip.

"SILENCE !" Zeus bellows, sending sparks of electricity burn Apollo's throat, "your son was a filthy mortal full of hubris" he hisses," thinking himself above the mortal's nature."

Fury fills Apollo and he sends a beam of burning light right into Zeus' flank.

"DO NOT SPEAK OF MY SON LIKE THAT !" He wails, still trapped against the column.

Zeus' eyes whiten out completely and waves of electricity roll into Apollo's body, setting all his nerves ablaze.

"I will speak of your son like I see I fit," Zeus snarls, tightening his grip to the point where Apollo can hardly breath, "and don't you dare attack your king again. Are we clear ?"

Apollo tries to speak but no words come out.

His father loosens ever so slightly his grip and air floods his lungs.

"Yes" He rasps.

"Yes my King." His father stresses on the last word.

"Yes my King." He repeats, his whole body burning with shame.

"Good, good." Zeus says and he lets him fall on the ground while he sits on his throne.

"For killing the cyclops, for attacking your King and doubting my justice, I condemn you to hang over Tartarus for fifty years," Zeus smiles cruelly, "that should teach you to know your place."

"Father-" He tries to plea, the thought of dangling over that place with no sun, no music terrifying him.

"No, Apollo, my judgement is final." Zeus says with a cold voice, not even looking at him, "now go, I have a meeting with minor gods and you wouldn't want them to see the disgrace you are, the pathetic excuse of a son you have become."

-----------------------------

Zeus finds again in the gardens, fiddling with his harp.

"Son."

Apollo jolts, scrambling back on his feet and putting as much as distance possible between himself and Zeus.

"Father," his voice trembles, "is it time to send me to Tartarus ?"

"No," his father says with a soft voice, "your mother pleaded your cause, begged me to lighten your punishment."

A new wave of shame burns his stomach when he thinks of his mother kneeling in front of Zeus, begging him to be king to their son...

"Instead," he continues, "you will serve a king of Greece as mortal for one year."

"Father, I-" He wants to thank him for his mercy but Zeus isn't done.

"Hades has also agreed to let me bring back the Cyclops and I have decided to make Asclepius the new god of medicine."

"You," his breath hitches, "I will see my son again ?"

"As long as he refrains from bringing mortals back from the dead, yes."

Tears of joy flood his eyes.

His son, a god !

"Father, I cannot thank you enough !"

"I have realised that I was too harsh on you," Zeus sighs, "let us put all of this behind us."

His father smiles at him and offer him a hand.

Apollo looks at that hand, the one who just a little while ago almost choked him to death.

But Zeus had seen that he was mistaken, that he had been in the wrong and there he was, willing to make amends.

"Of course, Father, thank you for your kindness." Apollo smiles back, taking Zeus' hand.

"You are welcome, son." Almost imperceptibly, his hold tightens and his blue eyes flash. "as long as you control your emotions, we won't face another situation like this."

"Yes, Father, I will try my best."

Zeus nods, happy with Apollo's promise, and promptly leaves him again.

He hears a gush of wind behind him and there stands Hermes.

"He's waiting for you in your palace."

Apollo doesn't need him to clarify who is waiting for him, he whispers a quick "thank you" before rushing to the golden palace a little further on the mountain.

------------------------------

"Father !"

Asclepius lungs himself at Apollo, who hugs him as fiercely as he did when his son was only a young boy.

"My son, my beautiful son !" He cries, burying his head into his son's golden curls.

"Father, it's okay," his son whispers softly, "I'm alive now."

"But you died !" Apollo says between sobs, "you died and I failed to protect you."

"I'm god now, I'm here, with you, for forever." His son says smiling, looking at him with those wide, blue, innocent eyes.

The reminder is enough for the tears to stop falling, for him to laugh wildly and pick up Asclepius, making him turn in the air like he did when he was eleven.

see ? he tells the little voice as Asclepius laughs, it was worth it.

This became way longer than I thought !

It was time Apollo got a happy ending, even though I made him suffer a lot....

If you think Zeus is little too nice, don't be fooled. He's just trying to gaslight Apollo into making him think that he is the problem here, by being the one with wild reactions while he is merciful, fair, blababla.

[crow-collective15]

Chapter 5 of “Leslie’s slow decline into madness”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Chapter 5

I stare out the car window on the way to the funeral.

It wasn’t raining, it was bright and sunny. Lester would’ve been sad to know his funeral was on a sunny day. He always wanted a funeral in the rain, for dramatic effect.

At the funeral home I saw way more people than I expected. People I never met.

I was anxious around the people but I tried not to pay attention. Instead eating strawberries. They had been Lester’s favorite snack so we had tons of them.

I ended up talking to one of the people who I didn’t know. He introduced himself as lyre.

“I’m sorry about the loss of your brother,” lyre said, he looked almost guilty. I wondered why.

“No, don’t apologize. You didn’t kill him.” I slightly laughed. Coping with dark humor.

Lyre glanced around nervously before laughing as well, he looked rather awkward.

“Well, still. I hope you’ve been holding up alright,” lyre responded.

“Does talking to walls count as alright?” I ask, to which lyre only shrugs.

The conversation ended there. I felt a bit weird about lyre but I just moved on, I felt weird about a lot of things right now.

I talked to a lot of people who I didn’t know. A set of siblings: will, Austin and Kayla. They were sweet, but Kayla looked familiar to me and I couldn’t figure it out. I ignored that weird feeling too.

I talked about the concept of death with someone named Nico. He was actually really helpful and helped me calm down even in the slightest. “Death happens eventually to everyone. I know it’s so cliche, but it’s gonna be ok eventually. I know how it feels to lose a sibling.”

He also played Mythomagic to so we talked about that for a while. It was something I understood like the back of my hand and it helped to talk about something I understood.

There was a little girl, said her name was Meg. She put a hyacinth on Lester and gave me a potted plant; “so you won’t be as lonely, it can’t replace your brother but it’s something at least!” She told me. It was also a hyacinth.

I held that plant the whole day.

I certainly watered it with my tears.

I can’t remember his service, I just know I cried the whole thing.

I had written out a poem he liked and placed it in his coffin along with my mythomagic figure of his favorite god, Hermes. He liked him because tricks and pranks and shenanigans were some of his favorite things.

At the graveyard I helped shovel the dirt over the coffin.

Staring at his grave I broke down again. Seeing his name in stone made it real.

Long after the funeral was over I sat talking to the grave. As if having a conversation.

Then lyre was there, He just appeared.

“Oh- uhm- sorry hi.” I scrambled to form coherent sentences.

Lyre just sat next to me. After a few minutes of awkward silence he started talking: “I am responsible for his death.” He said.

I blink, “what?”

“Earlier you said not to apologize because it wasn’t my fault, but it was. My name isn’t Lyre, my name is Apollo, and I am responsible for the death of lester.” He took a breath. “I don’t usually tell Mortals about the world of gods, but your life was ruined by it so you are owed an explanation.”

I stare at her. “Explain,” I say sharply.

“I am the god Apollo. I’m sure you know what that means from your little card game-“ I cut her off, “mythomagic.”

“-yes that. How do I put this… I recently went through ‘trials’ of sorts, my father, Zeus made me mortal in the body of Lester papadopoulos. Which is why he disappeared and eventually died. When I ascended to Olympus I can only assume his body couldn’t handle the amount of divine power and burnt to his death. So, young Leslie, I can do nothing but apologize to you,” lyre- Apollo explained to me.

“… with all the weird monsters I’ve been seeing I can’t even say I don’t believe you,” I say, dumbfounded.

Apollo sighs. “If I could bring Lester back, I would, but I can’t.” He takes a breath. “I must be leaving now, goodbye, Leslie papadopoulos.” And he disappears in a puff of gold.

I was mad. Horribly mad. I look at my brothers grave. “Lester. I will make sure he doesn’t just- just move on without caring about what. I swear that to you. I love you.” I hug his grave.

And thus begins my insanity.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

And we are not yet over. One or two more chapters to go!

[theflowerofhumanity]

Castaways

Five years in space was a long time. It could, on occasion, feel like a lifetime even on a starship as big and bustling as the Enterprise. Between their often death-defying missions and encounters with new alien civilizations, daily routines sometimes began to feel tired, stale, even suffocating. Tempers flared and attention wandered. Even the most dedicated Starfleet personnel were, after all, only human—well, most of them. After a while, they all wanted to stretch their legs, enjoy some sunshine (or at least some shopping), and see some unfamiliar faces off-duty. The captain of the Enterprise, arguably the most dedicated of all the ship’s officers, had sometimes been reluctant to take shore leave in the past. But he felt sorely in need of it now. His brother and sister-in-law were dead, his first officer had nearly been permanently disabled, and the remaining years of their mission stretched out before his eyes like a deep well full of endless, invisible possibilities, not all of them good. He loved his ship and his crew and was still looking forward to the rest of their journey...after a brief holiday.

Starfleet Command approved four days of general shore leave for the entire Enterprise crew on Beta Regulus II. During that time, outside technicians and engineers would crawl all over the ship evaluating its condition and making potential repairs and updates, much to the chagrin of Chief Engineer Scott.  The planet was dominated by a pleasantly subtropical climate and warm seas as well as several large, bustling commercial centers in its chief cities. It was an ideal place to take shore leave by just about anyone’s standards and could comfortably accommodate all four hundred of them.

Kirk had instructed his officer corps carefully regarding his expectations: he wanted the entire crew on their best behavior. “This is a pretty cosmopolitan planet, and we might cross paths with some people we wouldn’t consider friends. If I hear about any of our people making trouble, I won’t hesitate to cancel general shore leave for everyone.” Then he dropped the stern commander facade and smiled at them. With only the best serving on the Enterprise, he wasn’t really concerned about having to make good on his threat. Besides, there were no signs of any Klingons or other similarly unsavory characters in the area as far as he was aware and therefore little cause for real concern.

After procuring some appropriate civilian clothes from the replicator—since he rarely had any reason to be out of uniform and also had the most varied regulation wardrobe of anyone else aboard the Enterprise, he kept almost none in his quarters—Kirk beamed down to the surface with Dr. McCoy and Spock. The former was already fully decked out for a vacation in an old-fashioned polo shirt, sandals, and sunglasses, while the latter, still in uniform, had his Vulcan harp tucked beneath one arm. The three friends materialized in a small, sunny plaza from which they could just catch the roar of the sea in the distance. Numerous other crew members were milling about nearby.

“Planning to serenade the doctor while he sunbathes, Spock?” Kirk asked with a chuckle

Spock raised a brow. “Since Beta Regulus is, as you say, cosmopolitan, I intend to see if any shops carry a set of strings for my lyre, captain,” he replied.

McCoy rolled his eyes as he slid his sunglasses down over them. “Just don’t forget to relax a little too, Spock. That is the general idea of shore leave! Well, Jim, you comin’?”

Kirk smiled. “I’ll catch up, Bones.”

He headed towards the dispersing crowd of crewmen to say hello to people with whom he usually didn’t mingle. A few of the women who rarely got to see their captain in person blushed and smiled like shy schoolgirls as he passed through, shaking a hand here and grasping a shoulder there in the warm, congenial way that inspired so much personal loyalty. His sleeveless royal blue v-neck certainly did nothing to discourage them from glancing over their shoulders to steal a second look or from smothering giggles with their palms. As usual, Kirk paid no mind to the attention.

@multirptrash

[smallraindrops-blog]

I am once again going insane over Wake Me From This Dreaming. The little bits we get of Y/N childhood and then stories of his and Hypnos children get me so happy (and sometimes incredibly sad for Y/N considering his youth before his Father and Pa).

Also, I loved the little short Ponyo AU you wrote! Big slumbering God hypnos and his overly concerned husband got me giggling.

Love that in certain chapters, Y/N tells Hypnos stories from his youth cause I can see it so perfectly in my mind. (Him having to run and do math due to disrespecting Chiron is a prime example!)

Rambling aside, I hope you are doing well and I can't wait for the next chapter! (Or anything you write really, all of it is a wonderful treat!)

You are so sweet omg. 😭 😭 Thank you so much! <3

I love writing the family moments and they are often my most favorite parts. I am so so so happy you enjoy them too! <3<3

The Ponyo Au might be one my unexpected favorites, i just love the idea of a giant Hypnos napping away with his many children running around and Y/N chasing after them, lol.

And aww yeah, I need to write more Y/N's childhood stuff especially his time with Chrion.

I am actually planning on posting something for Father’s Day with the kiddos so keep an eye out for that. :D

ALSO! I don’t know if you would be interested but If you are, I went ahead and posted my updated character sheets for the Kiddos under the read more if you want to see them. :)

Morpheus

Role:God of Dreams and Visions

Gender: he/him

Family Role: The Firstborn. Take over the ‘family business’

Physical appearance: Takes after Hypnos. Same white curls ( he wears his hair much shorter) and golden eyes. However he has a skin tone that is closer to his Father. He is lean, but not slender like his dad. He also had a deeper voice and is the second tallest of the siblings

Info: 

Morpheus takes his place as the oldest brother seriously and often tries to be a role model for his siblings. Something which his siblings lovingly mock him for. 

He is curious, loves some juicy gossip and regularly gets into mischief. Sometimes gets too involved in mortal affairs (Don’t ask him what happened in Athena’s temple in Athens, he is still banned from there. He had sent lady Athena a long apology letter along with treats for her owl for an apology.)

Morpheus tries to act serious and in charge, especially since he was unofficially taking over Hypnos’ job among mortals. Especially so many gods expect him to act like his dad. 

He may or may not have tried to act like his Father, serious and brooding, but it didn't really work out for him. 

During his down time, he can be found playing on his lyre, coming up with new songs. He often reads as well, a habit he got from his dad. 

When he is around family or close friends, he is more easy going, and not afraid to crack a bad joke or two. He is more affectionate too, physical touch - hugs and noogies- is his love language.

Morpheus is a little more closer to his dad then his Father due working together however he still wants his Father’s approval. He hadn’t said anything but he just really wanted his Father to be proud of him. 

While his powers over dreams and visions are not to be denied - he might be the strongest of the siblings but that would depend on Phobetor who is still growing- he isn’t the best physical fighter. His reflex is slower than most gods, he also tends to freeze up during conflicts before acting. He also second guesses himself often.

This had been a source of conflict between him and his Father. With Y/N being fearful something could happen to his son and Morpheus feeling like he isn’t good enough. They will eventually resolve it but for now, it remains a sore spot between them.

When Morpheus fully grows into his powers and into his role, he will have visions and prophecies as part of his domain which makes him a popular god among mortals and even other gods, giving him a bit of an ego. 

Eventually on a hot summer night, he will meet a mortal who can sing like a siren and who isn’t very impressed by Morpheus and tell him exactly where he can shove his visions. 

Morpheus falls in love immediately.

Random facts:

He doesn’t like sweets much and would rather have a meat stick.

Poems are his most favorite things to read

Refuses to wear red because he feels like he looks too much like his dad. Favors blue or purple.

~~

Icelos

Role: Goddess of animals and their dreams.  

Gender: She/They

Family Role: Second oldest, she is her Father’s daughter

Physical appearance: Takes after Hypnos and Nyx. She has those trademark white curls, however she usually style it in a braid of some kind when out and about. Has big amber eyes, high cheekbones and has fox-like fangs when she smiles, considered to be very beautiful.

Info:

Twin to Phantasos, born just before him. 

Icelos takes pride in her job and she is serious when on the job and doesn’t like to play around. She can be blunt and isn’t afraid to use her resting bitch face. She can glare just like Y/N. 

She deeply loves and respects all animals, from the grossest maggot to the graceful swan. Icelos also understands the natural order and loathes those who dare disturb it. This had led to a close friendship with Lady Artemis and her followers.

Outside of work, Icelos is much more relaxed and likes to spend more of her time with her twin or one of her family members. She is very protective of her twin and often speaks for him.

She has a good relationship with everyone in the family, bonding with her parents and playing around her brothers. She does worry a little more about Phobetor since he is the youngest and has a heavy title to bear.

She is the one who drags the family out of the house to go watch plays or to go to parties.

Icelos is clever and has a talent for many art forms, leading her to picking up and dropping many hobby stuff as she moves on. At the moment, she is taken with spinning and weaving. She has a lyre collecting dust in her bedroom. And knitting needles. Paint brushes buried in the depth of her closet…

Y/N was somewhat more involved with her training, due to his own fear of his daughter being alone out in the world ( he had been in war, he knew the horrors inflicted upon women.) and her own skills. She fights like a feral creature and is skilled at using a bow and arrow. 

She hasn't met anyone yet. She is actually a huge romantic and is a sucker for a good love story. She is hoping that she will fall in love like her parents and grandparents.

However, she caught the eyes of quite a few gods and mortals. She regularly received courting gifts, sometimes in huge piles in front of the house.

Random Facts:

Struggles to eat meat. It is hard to eat something that once could communicate back. 

Thinks biting is a valid way to communicate but doesn’t do it anymore often.

Has a hidden drawer filled with romance novels and plays.

~~

Phantasos

Role:God of objects and their dreams. 

Gender: he/him when in normal form or It/Its when inside an object/working

Family Role: the middle child, the peacemaker

Physical appearance: a healthy mix of Y/N and Hypnos. He has Y/N’s coloring but with Hypnos’ facial features and hair type. He has lavender eyes, lighter than Charons’. He is stronger than he appears. He is also the shortest family member. 

Info:

The third born, the twin to Icelos. 

Phantasos, or Phan as he is known among loved ones. Phan enjoys his work, taking the time to learn each Object that comes under his care. He enjoys the stories they whispered to him.

Many underestimate him, much like they did to his dad. Anything can be an object, a hairbrush that sees the affairs in the bedrooms, a blade buried in someone’s back to a small rock used to create fire to burn down a city. 

They all fall under his care and he knows all of their secrets.

Sometimes he takes them back to their rightful owners or gives them to Uncle Charon. Some he takes home with him. He hates seeing things break, especially if it is beyond repair.

When he is spending time with family, he is usually quiet with a book in his hands or working on a puzzle. His family don’t mind however and just try to make sure he doesn’t feel left out. He is often the tiebreaker or the one breaking up fights when their parents aren’t around.

He has a good relationship with both parents, with Y/n and him just sitting quietly together to bond or him and his dad chatting about books. 

Phan is an okay fighter, with an innate understanding of weapons. He doesn’t have the talent for it like Icelos or Phobetor however. He and Y/n had to work together one on one to get him caught up. He didn’t mind, it was just more time with Father.

He is just as protective of his twin sister, however he is much more quiet about it. There may be a few pushy mortals who he had a private little chat with. 

Phan actually enjoys working with Charon and can be found manning one of his shops for his uncle. He is more of a workaholic than his sister but tries to make time for his family. 

Like his twin, he hasn't met anyone. Unlike her, he isn’t totally sure if he wants to. However, there is one among his Dad’s attendants that he might have a soft spot for. 

Random facts:

Uses dream space to store most of the objects that want to stay with him, due to the limited space in his bedroom.

His beloved stuffed animal had a special spot on his bed, the spot where Father had carefully repaired it still visible.

Knows a certain attendants’ favorite treat - fresh bread with a drizzle of honey.

~~

Phobetor 

Role: God of Nightmares and Fear

Gender: He/they

Family Role: The youngest one, Dearly beloved by all of his family.

Physical Appearance: Copy and Paste of Y/N. Or near to it. He will grow to be the largest one in the family, both in height and bulk. He will have the exact same shade of gold irises as his dad. His hair will also have a bit of a wave to it, kept somewhat short. Sometimes the shadows twist and change shape when near him, following his every footsteps.

His other forms are horrible eldritch abominations beyond mortal understanding and best not discussed.

Info:

Sometimes, he doesn’t know the difference between himself and his duty. He doesn’t hate it or love it, it just is. Just like his dad and Sleep. 

However he likes to be useful so he takes the mindset that the only way to move forward is to face your fears and tries to make the nightmares useful in some way.

As the god of nightmares and fear, he spends most of his time in the deep depths of the subconscious. He is able to know a person’s greatest fear just by being near, seeing pictures of them or even just overhearing their name from someone else.

Once he is fully grown, many will not go near or interact with Phobetor, with some feeling some form of existential dread being in his presence. However, he is able to interact normally with his family due their mutual powers in the sleep domain.

When Phobetor does deal with other people, he is usually cool and distant when spoken to. Not because he wants to be mysterious, he is just like Hypnos in that he can’t read social cues. Like completely clueless.

When spending time with his family, he is usually by Dad’s side, playfully arguing with one of his siblings ( usually Icelos or Morpheus since Phan never takes the bait), reading, or listening to Morpheus’ playing on the lyre

Icelos had gotten him to take up embroidery, he actually quite likes it. He is close to both parents, but he is definitely still Hypnos’ baby due to close bonding when he was an infant and Hypnos’ powers keeping away any nightmares that came to him.

Phobetor adores training and takes to fighting like a fish to water. His skills and powerness is comparable to Achilles and his father, something he is proud of. He trains often by himself and regularly with his Father and grandfather, delighted that he has someone to play fight with. He had fought against uncle Zagreus occasionally as well. 

Due to his standoffish nature and awareness that people are fearful of him, he keeps to himself and is fairly sure he will be single forever. Oddly enough, he is fine with it even if he would like to have a warm, loving relationship like his parents.

However he had been one of the lucky few to spend a night with some of Aphrodite’ attendants, he never told anyone this, partly because he still doesn’t know how he ended up in that situation. Also he doesn’t kiss and tell.

He is completely unaware that there are people who have a crush on him, calling him tall, dark and handsome. He would not know what to do with this information since he thought people are supposed to be scared of him.

Random Facts: 

Knows about Icelos’ secret romance books and definitely stole a book or two before. 

Tends to wear black since Icelos told him black goes with everything, wearing an outfit much like his father’s, he doesn’t know how else to dress.

Enjoys sweets, can eat endless honeycombs.

[apolyian-alluvial]

n o c t u a r y {s i x}

n o c t u a r y {linked universe x demi-god reader}

content warning: some swearing

The pale yellow walls of the Apollo cabin are just as you left them; cheerful on a good day, obnoxious on a bad day. The white floorboards creak under your weight, they’ve always been noisy, but it’s the only noise inside the cabin. It’s unusually silent. Even if no one is inside, the radio is always playing in the background or someone left their iPod on shuffle. 

You look around but find no one. The beds are unmade, their covers thrown around haphazardly. Clothing is strewed all over the floor. A broken bow, its upper limb snapped in half, rests against a bed frame. A lyre with its strings cut in half peeks out from under another bed. Half-finished art projects cover the desks, some just angry scribbles and others blobs of paint. Vases of wilting yellow flowers occupy the window sills. The smell of burnt bay leaves perfumes the air. 

You’ve only seen the cabin this messy twice before, when you and your siblings were grieving. 

There’s only one last place to check, one last place to hide in the cabin, the loft upstairs. Originally it was built for the cabin leader, a small space for privacy, but it changed into a place to hang out for your siblings. They certainly have no qualms in jumping into your bed during sunrise or lounging around when they’re feeling lazy. A lone figure occupies the bed now, curled up in a tight ball. 

Your knees almost give away as they knock into the bed frame. “...Will..” 

The boy shoots up like he’s been burned. His golden curls have lost some of their shine and definition, falling limply around his sallow skin. His sky blue eyes are wide, glassy, and spooked, as though he’s seen a ghost. He looks like shit and you know it’s because of you. You reach out one hand, wanting to comfort your younger brother when you finally notice what he’s wearing. 

“Is that my fucking hoodie?” 

Being the oldest, it’s inevitable that you have to share with your siblings. Most of the time you don’t mind letting them borrow your art supplies or musical instruments for a day or two. But you draw the line at clothes. If you let them take your clothes whenever they pleased, you would have nothing to wear. Kayla’s the main offender, insisting your clothes are more comfortable despite owning similar wardrobes. Yan always takes one of your sweaters when he’s feeling particularly homesick. Will has taken all of your flannels for himself. So yeah, you’re a bit overprotective of your clothes, especially when you bought an (overpriced) hoodie from the bookstore of your future university. 

“Are you a ghost?” Will asks, voice hoarse from disuse. It makes you wince. 

“Yeah, I am. I sensed you took my hoodie and I’ve come to take it back.” 

His lips twitch, as though he’s unsure whether or not he should laugh. Out of automatic instinct, he pulls it over his head and throws it to your awaiting arms. One hand reaches tentatively up, fingers shaking as they press against your forearm. You feel the weight of the touch, but the area his fingers meet your figure shimmers and turns a purple color, as if you were a hologram. 

This isn’t real then. It’s just a dream.

“I’m not dead, Will,” you say quietly. “My quest took a turn for the worst and I ended up…I ended up in a different universe, one where there are no Greek gods at all.” 

“Sounds like a vacation,” Will jokes weakly after a moment of silence. He peers at you with glassy eyes. “Are you…are you safe?”

You take Will’s hand in your own, ignoring how your skin ripples with purple light, how you can feel the touch but it does nothing to comfort your heart. “I’m okay. A group of heroes found me and offered me a spot with them until I can come home. I can’t- I don’t know when that’ll be though.” 

Your brother grips your hand tightly, knuckles going white. “We couldn’t help but assume…Dad’s been refusing to answer our prayers and Lady Hecate has been silent…and at the end of the week, Chiron insisted that-” his voice breaks. “That we burn your funeral shroud.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry.” 

You can’t imagine it; your siblings forced to go through another funeral burning, another older sibling lost. After the war with the titans, there’d been hushed rumors amongst the other cabins that the Apollo cabin leader position was cursed. You shut those rumors up quite easily, but it’d done its damage. None of your brothers or sisters looked forward to you turning eighteen and leaving for college. They didn’t want to imagine all the dangers you would face in the outside world. None of them wanted to be the next leader, didn’t want the fate that awaited them.

Your hand slips from Will’s and you watch with horror as your fingers start to fade away. Coldness starts to burn through your body and you know your time here is up. “I’ll come back you Will, I’ll come back to all of you, I swear it on the River Styx.” 

You’ll return back to it all, back to Will’s gentle hands and bright smile. Return to attend another one of Austin’s jazz concerts and help Kayla dye her hair some vivid color. Come back and listen to Jerry ramble on about musicals and plays while Gracie draws the characters. You’ll return one day to write poetry with Yan and you’ll let him add his favorite songs to the campfire playlist. One day, you’ll be complete again.  

The image of your brother fades away as your vision bleeds black and purple. The biting cold creeps up your body like a thousand of little spiders. For a moment, you’re stranded in nothingness, just existing in a void with your senses stolen from you. Hands grip your shoulders and it shocks you out of nothing. You scramble against the hold, trying to escape from it, but large hands pin you down against a hard surface. Your ears ring sharply and a voice tries to speak over it with little success. Only as the ringing subsides, does the voice calm you. 

“It’s okay, don’t try to move so much. You’re alright.” 

You stare into the purplish blue eyes of Twilight. “Hello.” 

He offers you a weary smile. “Hey. You with me now?” 

You sit up so fast your vision swims for a moment. You dodge the hands that try to keep you down as you climb shakily to your feet. The trees are no longer green. The plain you’re in is surrounded by trees with fiery red and orange leaves. The occasional tree possesses yellow leaves amongst the rare pine. It is not the same woods you were once travelling. “Where am I?” 

“That’s what we’re still trying to figure out.” 

A finger pokes your back. “Where did you get that?” 

You crane your head over your shoulder to look at Wind. His bleached blond hair is tousled from the journey but otherwise, he appears fine. He’s looking at something tucked under your arm. At the sight of the familiar material, you can’t help but laugh, like bending over and clutching your stomach type of laughter. You’ve given up long ago on understanding the laws of space and how reality works, one tends to stop questioning things with a Greek god as a parent, but stealing your hoodie back across reality has got to be one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. 

Wind leans over to Twilight and whispers not so subtly, “I think they’re losing it.” 

Your laughter dies down and you wipe a stray tear from your eye. “I’m sorry, I really am losing it, but look!” You show your hoodie proudly. “I stole this back from my brother!” 

Wind and Twilight exchange glances. “Hyrule? Can you come here? Our guest hit their head.” 

Hyrule looks over. He’s kneeling beside a grumpy-looking Sky, checking his chest for anything wrong. He starts to get up but you wave him away. “No, I’m fine. I didn’t hit anything.” The curly-haired teen comes over anyway, he tries to poke around your head, but you dodge his insistent fingers. 

“Is everyone here?” Time asks, voice ringing loudly across the clearing. “Is anyone hurt?” 

“No,” Hyrule answers. “But Four has a headache.” He gestures towards a motionless lump laying face down. 

“Champion, where are we at?” Time’s voice draws your attention back. Subconsciously, you start inching forward to where he’s standing flanked by Warriors and Wild. 

Wild stares down at his stone iPad, face hauntingly blank. “Akkala. Near the base of Ulri Mountain.” 

“Figure out the closest town or place to restock and rest.” Time clasps a gentle hand on Wild’s shoulder, but when he turns toward you, the cold anger and irritation are a startling difference. “That will be the last time you go after the Shadow by yourself.” 

“Okay.” 

Time inhales sharply. “If you think you can go after the Shadow, then you can act like a proper member of our group. You will help us with chores, stand watch at night, and battle with us. You’ll be expected to pull your own weight.” 

“Of course,” you say pleasantly. As an afterthought, you add, “Sir.” 

“We will still try to help you get back to your own world, but if something important comes up, that will take precedent.” 

“I understand, sir.” 

Time stares down at you, as if he could decipher your sudden mood change by staring into your eyes. You stare back at him, even daring to smile sweetly. He narrows his eyes at you, suspicion clear in his gaze before turning away. He calls Warriors and Wild to his side, and they whisper in hushed tones, all huddled over the stone iPad. Once you’re sure his attention is turned off of you, your smile drops and you glower at his back. You have no choice but to listen to him now. The thought bubbles uncomfortably in your mind and simmers acidly in your stomach. 

You break away to the edge of the group, clutching your sweater close to you. It smells like laundry dried in the sun and the sharp sting of disinfectant. 

That night, you play along with Wind’s games. You don’t complain when Wild ropes you into helping with dinner or dishes. Twilight sets up your bed roll for you with an awkward smile before scampering off to his own blankets beside Time. You fall asleep fitfully that night, far too aware of the changing dynamics of the group and a promise you made that could cost you your life. 

---

Legend waits until most of the camp has fallen asleep. His steps fall silently as he creeps toward where their guest is sleeping between Four and Wind, their traveling pack left unguarded. He grabs it by a strap, pausing momentarily when the demi-god shuffles a little bit in their sleep. A few seconds pass with no movement. Legend yanks the pack to him and steps away just as silently. Time says nothing as he takes a seat by the fire. The old man, still bitter about losing the Shadow earlier makes no comment about the invasion of privacy. Legend can’t bring himself to care either. Back in Ordon, he was only able to glance over all the objects shoved into the yellow pack, but now, he’s going to thoroughly inspect everything to make sure the demi-god isn’t working against them. 

Resting on top of the pack are several round, tin containers. Legend knows they’re healing balms and salves, their pungent scents, and Hyrule’s expertise confirmed it. He still opens one. Lavender wafts upward, and Legend resists the temptation to dip his fingers in it and smear it across his wrists to keep smelling it and to store it away in his own pack. He allows himself a few sniffs of the calming smell before setting it beside the rest of the tins. Legend pulls out a roll of bandages, a small bottle of golden liquid, and a clear bag that has some sort of squashed dessert. 

Next, come the clothes. The demi-god must have lost their common sense because who in their right mind wears bright, eye-watering orange on an adventure? It’s just begging for a monster to come and attack them. Even worse, they own two of the same shirt in the gods awful color. He sets the folded shirts on top of blue pants and a pair of rolled-up socks. What he’s truly looking for is at the bottom of the bag. 

Legend is no stranger to books. During the rare moment he has between adventures, he loves to sit and read. It’s one of the ways he’s picked up multiple languages, but no language like this. For the life of him, he can’t understand what the book is saying. He first thought it was a code, something the demi-god and the Shadow came up with, but it’s a bit excessive to have hundreds of pages of code. The multiple items shoved between the pages also make the code theory more and more implausible. No one would bother keeping seemingly sentimental momentos in between all that. 

Of all the momentos, the one’s that intrigue him the most are the small paintings. They remind him a lot of Wild’s photos, just, actually on paper. The first one Legend pulls out is of a golden young man, golden hair, golden eyes, golden skin. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt and blue pants and leaning back against the railing of a bridge. The smile he gives is absolutely cocky, self-assured. One of his arms is wrapped around a woman who shares a startling resemblance to the demi-god. Their parents. The edges of the photo painting have gone soft with age, almost fraying in some parts. There’s small scripture on the back, in yet another foreign language, the lettering different than the book. 

The second is of the demi-god and a boy. The demi-god is younger, perhaps twelve or thirteen. They’re smiling, bright and full of pure happiness as they wrap their arm around the waist of a boy. The boy’s grin is downright mischievous, as if he’s just stolen something right under your nose or set something on fire. Like the demi-god, he has short rounded ears, but the tip of them are pointed just the slightest. They’re wearing multi-color t-shirts like they dipped the shirts in multiple pots of dye, but they have the same symbols as the orange t-shirts, a silhouette of a winged horse. 

The third photo has seven people in it. The demi-god is in the center of it, holding a horribly decorated cake. The frosting is a horrendous yellow with candles stuck randomly on the top. Little candies are scattered on top with no rhyme or reason. Many of the unknown kids are wearing colorful, pointed hats. It’s clear even though none of the people look similar, that they’re related. It’s in the way they smile, how bright their eyes are. 

There’s more photo paintings, one of a scowling boy and one with eyes as clear as the sky, but he takes no interest in those. More things are shoved in between the pages. Scrap bits of paper with something written on them in that blasted, foreign language, little doodles, and even a feather, yet nothing that reveals anything of malicious intent. If anything, it reminds him of a journal he once kept. There isn’t anything that proves their new addition is working with the shadow. (But there isn’t anything that disproves it either). 

Legend quietly admits defeat to himself. He packs the bag back to the way he found it. There’s other pockets on the bag, he knows that, but they don’t have anything of interest; a strange set of playing cards and a small bar of soap. As quietly as ever, he deposits the pack back over to the sleeping demi-god.

-------------

this chapter sucks but thank you so much for reading!!💖💖

[sarahphantom1234]

Octavinelle x Reader

Warning: Yandere, OOC, Thalassophobia.

_________________

From a young age, I did not like the sea.

Or sea creatures.

I'M afraid of it.

The feeling of being pressed deeply, hearing nothing, the liquid suffocating, invading the mind, thinking that it has become a corpse for the sea monsters to eat, it is not pleasant. little bit.

I admire divers, sailors... Or simply people who like to swim.

Because of that, when I came to the new world, to the new school called Night Raven College, I was disgusted with the sea creatures of the Octavinelle family, even though they were only a few, very few.

But because of that, the Leech twins often came to talk to me, and I did nothing but bow my head to avoid looking at their sharp teeth.

When I saw it, I thought that my own body had been bitten in half, the blood was wide and patched everywhere, and a little bit of consciousness felt the pain of dying over and over again, then being swallowed. gobble.

I fear them.

I tried to hide from those two as much as I could.

But maybe it only works a few times.

They could find me anywhere, and so I was dragged to Mostro Lounge.

I heard that the head of Octavinelle's house was an octopus, named Azul Ashengrotto, imagining those proboscis squeezing me, I shivered with fear.

But what's wrong with that senior Azul? Every time he saw me, he blushed, even if it was fleeting, and then faced me like a gentleman.

I don't really care, I'm uncomfortable or "afraid" around them, but I still respect them.

Respect like the seniors.

Just like that, ticking and ticking, as time passed, I thought they would get bored, but maybe I was wrong, they liked me even more than before.

Just dragging me around, going back and forth at Mostro Lounge, I'm so bored.

But miraculously, they asked me to go to the beach to play, I quickly refused, after that time, I also tried to hide from them more.

Maybe this time because I was determined to be very careful, so whenever I met their silhouette, I would run- hide or run very fast.

Just like that, I kept on hiding, the last time I hid was around recess, because of that I left my friends and ran away, I immediately hid in a bush, crouched down. To fit the shade of the tree, cover your mouth to keep from making a sound.

I feel the chill shivering, but isn't the weather warm right now? Sneaking a little glance, the first thing I saw were sharp eyes searching for me, I was very panicked, quickly turned my head, restrained myself to stop shaking, those eyes, the eyes of ocean killers.

I swear I don't want anything to do with them, I'm telling the truth.

The flashback is enough, now I guess I have to focus on my studies as well.

So fast! It's already evening, I have only a simple dark clothes, the dim moonlight makes one's mind hazy, there are glittering stars, fresh air, how strange it looks...

I walked slowly to the coast, the golden sand caressed like a kiss on the soles of my feet, I felt all my senses, my eyes saw the calm sea, my ears listened to melodious voices like the lyre of the poet Orpheus.

But why, I can't control? My feet keep going, follow that voice and forget the way back, fear screams, but why won't my body listen?

Or is it because the songs seem to be separate but harmonize?

Oh, please make me deaf now, even if I trade the best song, I won't be content to go down to that terrible ocean.

I say that, but I still go, close to the sea, the wind creates a wave that cools my feet, what do I see in my eyes now?

Twin brothers in mermaid form and Azul sunbae wiggle their tentacles.

They raised their hands for me to catch, then gently pulled me under the sea.

My head is sinking, so deep...

They stopped singing, I was able to move too, my body moved, but they held me tight, my strength was not enough.

Just as my oxygen was running low, I tried to look up at the faint light of the moon.

Do not!

I beg you!

I bow to you!

Please don't take away my last hope, please remove the tentacles wrapped around my eyes, please don't whisper those words in my ears!

I'd rather be a flower forgotten on the side of the road, let people push and pedal.

Or vow to become a bird with its wings broken, waiting for Death to take it away.

Please don't force me to take that medicine, even though my eyes are covered, but I feel that my legs are glued together like glue, the itchy skin is gradually becoming painful, something is sticking out of the skin. mine!

I screamed, I could breathe underwater. No! This is what I fear the most, becoming a mermaid!

The tentacles on my eyes are removed, what do they show me? The fishtail with its silvery glittering scales.

I don't want to! I don't want to be the animal I fear the most, I don't want to be like the fairy tales tell, live more than 300 years and the soul becomes a sponge, please give back my eternal soul!

They pulled me deeper, and deeper, so much so that I couldn't see the moonlight shining down on this blue sea...

I wish it was all just a dream.

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones - XXI

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please Note: This chapter will contain physical violence with some implied language that may be triggering.

This chapter was previously part of chapter 20 and as I have been editing and reuploading the chapters, I have since decided to split chapter 20 into two. 

shoutout to @abruisedmuse for being my beta reader through it all ♥️

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @readthelastpaage / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @krem-does-stuff / @clockwork-ashes / @carolynmezzosoprano / @carnythian / @runningwiththeoceans / @secret-third-thing / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @thedarkinmansfield / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @devilsfoodcake22 / @moonfawnx / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @eachies / @feysandfeels / @thelovelymadone / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @teddyhoneybear / @sinnerrsworld / @gracie-rosee / @stormycleric / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @theeternalstruggle / @the-midnightwriter / @illyrianvalkyrie / @that-golden-lyre / @ladystarrynight

Find it all here.

They were in the empty throne room this time. 

His father liked it when it was empty; the echoes it caused with each beating seemed to spur him on. Changing locations of his punishment was Beron’s way of keeping the trauma fresh. Made them hate their home a little more each time. As if his family needed any other reason to hate this place aside from having him reside in it.

Eris stood, his expression schooled to indifference and his hands clasped behind his back. His father had made him stand here in silence for what had felt like a decade but neither of them would say anything. Eris wouldn’t dare say a word before his father spoke. 

His father liked his games. 

Instead, he let his eyes wander around the room as his thumb tapped the back of his hand, not wanting to make eye contact with his father. He didn’t know if he could look at him without his anger bursting and Eris was already teetering on the edge today. The visceral need to be with his wife threatened to consume him, especially knowing that his father had brought him here for pain. Had wanted Iris here to witness it. Or likely worse. 

His mate. He should’ve told her before he left. But he had been a coward and an idiot and was now on the cusp of losing his mind completely if his father so much as mentioned her. 

So, he didn’t look at the High Lord. Instead, he glanced at the large windows and the light of the sunset shining through. It would be dark soon and Eris didn’t like being near his father in the dark.

It brought out the worst in him. He didn’t know how his mother had done it all these years.

“Where is your wife?” 

Beron’s question seemed to ricochet off the walls but Eris kept his gaze on the windows and kept his body as relaxed as possible, tapping his thumb to the back of his hand.

His eyes remained on the filtering sunlight as he asked, “What can I do for you, Father?”

“You are not the only person I requested to see.” Beron snapped. “Did your idiot brother not relay my message correctly earlier?”

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw, his fist clenching then relaxing at his back. “Finn conveyed your message verbatim, I assure you.”

“Then I ask again, where the fuck is your wife and why is she not with you at this very moment as requested?”

“My wife has retired for the evening. It has been a long day.” Eris replied blandly. “Again, what can I do for you, Father?”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, boy.” Beron snarled and finally, after taking a calming breath through his nose, Eris let his gaze meet his father’s. 

The High Lord’s face was flushed in anger and Eris knew to give his father a few moments. To wait until Beron sat back, until his anger melted into simple disdain.

Eris waited until the palpable violence had simmered down just a bit then calmly said, “I’m looking now, Father.”

“As you should’ve been the moment you walked in.” Beron spat and his eyes narrowed at his son. “I didn’t realize our windows were so interesting.”

“The sunset is always pleasant to see.” he only replied and Beron scowled.

“Why is your wife not with you?” 

Again, Eris fought back the urge to scream. To shout to the rooftops. He desperately fought the urge not to ram a sword in his father’s neck as he craved. He didn’t want his father to mention Iris, let alone be in the same room as her. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, the feeling of dread tightening in his chest. His father was going to drag this out. “I thought we had an understanding about my wife, Father.” he said and the clipped tone had Beron narrowing his eyes.

“An understanding.” His father repeated with a hum and Eris forced himself to keep that bored expression, to keep his face as bland as possible. “We did discuss this before, didn’t we?”

“Yes. We did.” 

“But…” his father began and Eris braced himself. “Things can change, can’t they?”

His fists clenched behind him and try as he might, he couldn’t stop the scowl from blooming on his face. “Father,” Eris tried, after another calming breath. “Is there a specific purpose to this conversation?”

Beron snorted, a finger tapping his knee as he gazed at his son. “Purpose of this conversation? I have to have a purpose to speak to my favorite son?”

The bastard was going to keep toying with him then. 

Eris gave his father a tight smile. “I am always at your service whenever you need me,” he said. “This matter seemed urgent.”

Beron gave Eris a small smile that had Eris tightening his fists even more. “Tell me about your day, son.” Beron continued, his tone conversational enough that it put Eris even further on edge. “How was the visit with your father-in-law?”

Eris blinked. His mind flashed to the panic that had coursed through his body — the panic that his wife had felt when she was alone with her abuser once more and he forced himself to take another silent breath. He smothered down the rage that had surged through at the mention of his piece of shit of a father-in-law and forced him to quirk a brow and pleasantly reply to his father, “It was productive.”

“Productive.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “I’d say Lord Aron and I bonded well.”

Beron let a beat of silence pass then quirked a brow. “Bonded, you say?” 

The humorless smile remained on Eris’s face as he tilted his head. “Yes.”

He waited in silence as his father watched him. 

Beron had never typically cared if Eris had gotten a little…unhinged when hurting someone. Usually, he encouraged it. But he wasn’t foolish enough to think that this time would be the same. 

Eris had hurt Aron for Iris and well, that simply wouldn’t do for his father. 

Cold anticipation filled the pit of Eris’s stomach as Beron stood from his throne and slowly descended the steps. Each step the High Lord took towards him matched the thump of his heartbeat and though Eris was used to it, had gotten used to his father’s mind games and fists, the tiny spark of dread never did go away. 

That tiny spark of dread fluttered in his chest as his father stopped in front of him. 

“Do you think you’re funny, son?” the High Lord asked and Eris only blinked, his expression as neutral as he could make it. 

“I have my moments to shine, Father,” he answered. “But please, let us get to this urgent matter you called me for.”

Beron chuckled dryly, his own hands clasped behind his back. “Impatient, are you?” he said quietly. “Eager to go back to your pretty little wife and leave my company.”

“It is always a privilege to be in your company, High Lord.”

Beron’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and he began to pace around Eris. “High Lord.” he repeated. “I am your High Lord, isn’t that right?”

Eris didn’t let his eyes leave his father, knowing he was trying to unnerve him. “Yes.”

“And you respect your High Lord, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then tell me,” Beron began and paused with his back to his son. “Why do you find it so easy to embarrass me?”

And there it was. Eris thought to himself. Of course, his father would spin Bertillon’s disrespect this way. He smothered down his annoyance and resisted the strong urge to send every inch of his flame to tear his father to shreds. It would be so easy. He had been so pent up lately, even with this morning and ripping into Aron, it had barely done much. He was too on edge. So he’d dance this little dance with his father until they got to the end. He opted for a confused tone as he asked, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Father. I would never knowingly do that.”

Another dry chuckle left his Father’s lips and he turned to face Eris. “You say that and yet…How do you think it looks when my associate, who is your father-in-law, is found barely breathing and broken in so many places he is barely recognizable?” Beron said and the softness with which he spoke made the hair on the back of Eris’s neck rise. “How do you think I felt when I was asked about it and had no idea what to say?”

He would gladly flay Bertillon’s skin over and over again until nothing was left. He wouldn’t even hesitate. Instead, Eris breathed through his nose once more, trying not to let his nostrils flare, giving his father a thin smile. 

“Is that what all this is about?” he said and forced a chuckle. “You told me to give him a warm welcome. I only followed your suggestion, Father.”

Beron’s eyes narrowed and Eris braced himself, waiting for the blow to come for his tone. A heartbeat passed in silence before Beron tsked and shook his head.

“You must not have heard about the whispers filling the halls.”

“I don’t listen for mindless chatter, Father.” 

“I see.” Beron said and the High Lord watched his son for a moment before adding, “And you think what you did was acceptable?”

Eris raised a brow. “And what exactly is it that I did that would be deemed unacceptable?”

“You tell me.”

Eris couldn’t help the way his face pinched in disdain. “Your associate overstepped his boundaries with me,” Eris said flatly. “And as you know, I do not take that lightly.”

“Hmm.” was all his father said and continued to watch him. It was a moment before he waved a hand and said, “And you think the way you left him was…appropriate?”

Eris knew his gaze had hardened as he stared at his father but his mind had again gone back to the panic and fear Iris had felt. To the bruises that had appeared on her lovely skin. To the slight hesitation she had felt going back into their rooms after their outing. 

The fact that Eris had left him alive was the only inappropriate thing about this. He would’ve cut off each of his fingers slowly and made Aron wear them as a pretty necklace. Then he would’ve sliced off both his arms. Burned him from the inside out. Eris had many ideas on what he could do differently had he been given free rein over his father-in-law but Iris had stopped him. He would leave that particular kill for his wife. 

Eris flicked an invisible piece of lint off his jacket and finally said to his father. “That piece of shit walked into my space, a space he did not have permission to be in, and put his hands on my wife. My wife. For no other reason than because he wanted to and you find my reaction to this unacceptable?” he said sharply. “Other than the fact that she is now a princess of this court who outranks him in every way, he is too bold and too comfortable with his own stupidity and that is a problem for me. A problem I will have no issues eradicating should he continue to overstep with what belongs to me.”  His expression shifted to disdain. “The only reason he’s still breathing is that I didn’t want the blood to ruin my carpet.” 

“Is that right?”

Eris tensed and met his father’s gaze again. “Yes. That is right,” he said tightly and then furrowed his brows. “Forgive me, Father, but I am having trouble understanding why this trivial thing is being brought to your attention. Surely a business associate is less important than your daughter-in-law?”

Beron scowled at his son. “The only reason she is my daughter-in-law is because of her father.”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth to prevent himself from lashing out. After a breath, he continued, “What exactly does he do for you, father? That he gets such leeway? Such attention from you?” Eris asked with a raised brow. “Other than stealing from our coffers, I don’t see what exactly he does to deserve a single question.”

“He doesn’t steal. I pay him.” Beron snapped and Eris resisted the deep urge to roll his eyes. “And he delivers.”

“You mean those backend deals done in the dark? The smuggled goods you could get with a proper trading deal if you’d let me negotiate with the Day Court?”

“I will not enter any trade deals with that pompous filthy piece of shit who plays at High Lord.” Beron snarled and Eris tensed. “This business agreement doesn’t include you, boy. You got your little wife out of this arrangement. Mind your business and focus on what you did.” 

“How can I mind my business when our lack of trade deals tightens supplies for everyone around the court?” he said. “We can do better than this piece of shit. Let me —”

A wall of fire slammed into Eris so fast that he barely had a moment to protect himself, staggering back a few steps. Slowly Eris looked up at his father in disbelief.

“You would hurt me for that lowlife?”

“I hurt you for the disrespect you’re showing me.” Beron snapped and stepped closer to his son. “I hurt you for the same reason I’ve had to beat some sense into you in the past — because you refuse to obey and have the nerve to challenge me.”

Eris could only stare at his father. The male he had once admired and loved so, so long ago. Someone he had wanted to make proud. Someone he had cared about. Until the monster had come out in full force. And yes, there had been moments with Mor and Jesminda and his own mother when the monster had made an appearance, when the dark side of his father had found an outlet for release…but it wasn’t until the nightmare that was Under the Mountain that had warped his father to the point of no return. Until the nightmare of Under the Mountain became the nightmare of their jeweled forest. Until their own court had become a court of nightmares and Beron thrived on spite, cruelty, and rage.

Eris let out a humorless laugh then nodded. “Of course, Father. My apologies for ensuing your wrath,” he said and placed a hand over his heart. “What can I do to amend my mistake?”

Beron backhanded him and though Eris had anticipated this blow, had let it happen, the sting didn’t hurt any less. But the sooner his Father smacked him, the sooner this would be over. 

“Apologize.” 

Eris nodded, running his tongue over his teeth once more and letting the sting of the blow remind him why, when the time came, he would let his father die a brutal death and feel no remorse.

“Of course, Father. My apologies to you,” he said. “The next time I decide to beat the shit out of someone, I’ll be sure to notify you immediately.”

His father’s hand wrapped around his throat and he yanked Eris closer to him. “You watch that tone, boy.” Beron seethed. “Ever since that fucken wife of yours came into your life, you suddenly think you’re above the way I treat you. You think being married means something.”

“Should I be following your example of what a marriage is supposed to look like, Father?” Eris said tightly and Beron squeezed. “You seem to enjoy being a husband.”

“Keep this up, your wife won’t have a husband much longer.”

“Your threats are noted, High Lord.” 

Beron glared at Eris and with a noise of disgust shoved him away. His father turned away from him, facing the throne and Eris took the moment to glare at his back openly. He straightened his jacket and brushed back his hair fighting the urge to snap his father’s neck. He noted the slight trembling in his hands and clenched his fists so hard, that Eris was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own bones. His anger was building and if he didn’t get an outlet, he was going to burst. But he kept his eyes on his father’s back and neutralized his expression, even if he was moments away from sliding his sword into his spine.

He waited again, the only sound that Eris could hear was the pounding of his own blood, anticipating what his father would say or do next. He almost wanted the beating to start so he could get it over with but had to remind himself over and over and over again that with his father, he had to pick and choose his battles. He had to be mindful of how much he pushed because Beron would not hesitate to hurt anyone he cared about. His mother especially. Beron delighted in making sure his sons knew whenever he laid a hand on her. 

They needed to get her out. 

The thought had barely left his mind when Beron finally turned to face his son again.

“You disappoint me.” 

Eris said nothing. If anyone had any right to be disappointed, it was him. Disappointment for all that could’ve been. Disappointment for the life they’d had to lead when it didn’t have to be that way. 

“Would you like me to apologize for that as well, Father?” Eris asked and desperately tried to rein in the sneer he knew his father had heard anyway.

The High Lord merely looked at him with a snort then waved his hand towards the side doors of the throne room. “No. I think I’ll correct that behavior in other ways.” he said. “But before I do that, you have one more apology to make.”

Eris’s brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at his father who only gave him a cruel smile.  He warily shifted his gaze to where Beron had pointed and immediately froze as rage scorched his body. He forced himself to breathe slowly and keep his hands behind his back. He stared, knowing that the male whose death was already carved out in stone could sense every threat Eris sent his way. 

Lord Aron had made his way into the room and Eris fought back every demon, and prayed to any of the gods listening to help him maintain control. A small sense of satisfaction broke through the rage and coursed through him at the way Aron limped his way towards them but rage — his rage would always win at the mere sight of him. He narrowed his eyes at his father-in-law, who stumbled at the sight of Eris. The Lord had the decency to pale beneath his mountain of bruises. 

“You healed quicker than I thought.” Eris allowed himself to say. “It seems I was too kind to you, Bertillon.”

Despite the fear coming off him in waves, his father-in-law still managed to glare at him. “You call this kind?” he wheezed. “I was lucky your father found me sooner than later and sent healers my way.”

“Lucky,” Eris said with a snort. “Or a waste of time because the chances of you leaving my sight with functioning legs are very slim.”

Aron paled further and looked to Beron. “I — I thought it would only be my daughter here, High Lord.” Aron stuttered.  “My daughter apologizing on her knees would be enough. I don’t expect the prince to grant me any form of respect after this morning.”

Eris let out a harsh laugh and then turned to his father. “My wife will be apologizing to no one, much less this piece of shit.” he snarled.  

Eris turned back to his father-in-law and the savage rage he had felt breaking his bones was resurfacing as the room had heated again. “I thought I made myself very clear about your involvement with your daughter. The moment she became my wife, she was no longer your problem.” And without so much as a blink, Eris’s fire shot out to gag his father-in-law, then bring him forcefully to his knees. “I don’t want to hear you speak while I’m in the room. You are barely given permission to breathe while I’m in the room. I warned you only earlier today and you are still saying the wrong things in front of me.”

His cold gaze met Aron’s widened ones. “It seems you didn’t learn your lesson the first time.” he said softly and then glanced back at his father. “I’m going to break his legs, Father.”

Beron ignored the noise of outrage that Aron choked out and narrowed his eyes to his son. Eris simply glanced back. Of all the things he thought his father would drag him in here for, reprimanding him for this vermin was not one of them. But Eris would be damned if he let Bertillon get away with any of it.

He knew he never mattered to his father. None of them really did. But to bring someone else into the mix, to witness what happened between them was new. 

Father and son looked at one another in the thick silence, the tension suffocating. 

“Now now, son,” Beron began in a placating tone that had Eris sneering. “He is family after all. We need to behave better than that.”

Eris snorted at the irony of his father’s words. “My family is a very limited amount of people and this fucker is not one of them.” he snapped and turned to glance in his disgust at Aron. “He is nothing and no one.”

“Eris.” Beron snapped and he slowly turned to look at his father. “You will release him and then you will apologize for your brutish behavior.” 

A humorless laugh slipped from Eris’s lips before he could stop it and without leaving his father’s gaze, his magic shot out and snapped Aron’s right leg at the knee. He smiled at the howl of pain and the sound of his body falling back.

Beron scowled. “That’s not what I asked you to do.”

Eris shrugged with as much nonchalant air as he could muster through his anger. “It’s what I heard.”

With that statement, it seemed that Beron had reached his limit with his son. The High Lord’s face darkened and he pointed one finger at his son. “You will apologize to your father-in-law now.”

Eris couldn’t help the cold smile on his lips, couldn’t help how he’d loosened the damper on his magic and rolled his neck back, then met his father’s gaze. “Apologize? Of course. You’re right, Father.” he said and Eris knew his control was slipping, his tone a little unhinged, a little guttural. “I will gladly apologize.” 

Before his father could stop him, Eris stalked over to Aron still semi-broken on the floor, every step had flames licking at his heels. His father-in-law let out a muffled cry of pain as Eris’s magic shot out again, breaking his other leg at the knee. Yanking him by his hair, Eris crouched and leaned towards Aron.

“This seems familiar, doesn’t it.” he said softly and savage satisfaction coursed through him at the sight of Aron’s face. “I warned you earlier, didn’t I? I did. Yet here you are, still stupid and still saying the wrong things.” 

Eris shoved his head back and then gripped him by the neck. “Your earlier bruises have barely begun to heal and you seem to itch for more of them.” Squeezing tight, fire blazing in his eyes, he leaned close enough to see the white of Aron’s eyes. “To quote what you said to my wife earlier, I can say the words all you want but I will never mean them.” Eris seethed and slammed a fist of fire into Aron’s face. “I am only sorry that I left you alive. I am only sorry that I didn’t leave you in pieces and feed you to my hounds…but then again, they would never eat something as disgusting as you. You’d be too vile for even the likes of the Attor.” 

Lord Aron made a choked noise that had Eris chuckling darkly. He knew his father was still in the room but he barely heard a word with the ringing in his ears, the pumping of his blood. He wouldn’t let Iris near any of them, would never let anyone dream of demeaning his wife. He crouched closer and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “I told you, you may be in the High Lord’s pocket but not in mine. Test me again, Bertillon, I dare you.” 

Pulling back only slightly, Eris’s grip tightened around Aron’s neck once more. “Is that a good enough apology for you, Bertillon? Please tell me so my father here can be satisfied.”

Aron gave a vague resemblance to a nod, barely conscious. Turning slightly and dragging Bertillon with him by the throat, Eris smiled darkly at his father. “You see? My father-in-law- forgives me.” he said sweetly and then glanced down at Aron again, lowering his voice once more to add, “Your death day has already been marked. Tread lightly.”

Letting him drop unceremoniously to the floor, Eris slowly stood and dusted off his hands. He forced himself to take a silent breath, roll back his shoulders, and let some of the tension in his body go before he could face his father once more. That Beron had allowed Eris to go this far only meant that he was going to pay and pay dearly. He straightened his jacket and finally glanced at his father. “I assume we’re finished with this situation here?”

Beron slowly glanced at Aron’s slumped body, at the blood smeared on the ground, and then back at Eris. “You disobey me so openly.”

Eris shook his head, anger once more coursing through his body. Everything about his fucken father was always about him. He gave the High Lord a cold smile. “It was you who taught me that we don’t apologize to anyone. I am merely what you made me, Father.”

A pregnant silence filled the room and Eris forced himself again to calm down. His own power was one card he kept close to his chest and it would do him no favors to unleash himself now. He would need it for a later time.

“I could have your wife dragged in here and force her to her knees until both of you do as I ordered.” Beron mused. 

Eris shook his head and let his gaze fall to his father-in-law yet again, half dead on the floor. Too many people were too obsessed with his wife. It would only get worse when they knew she was his mate. 

His mate. That his father kept threatening. 

Eris hid the slight tremor of his hands by clasping them behind his back once again. “You could do that, Father. But this day would end very, very badly for everyone involved.” 

“Is that a threat, boy?”

This little dance they did had never gotten this far. Eris had rarely defied Beron but to do it in front of someone else changed the game. Made it more dangerous. Their interactions had rarely ever been about anything else but humiliation and power and while he had shown his cards in other conversations…today was different. Today, Eris knew he had crossed a line. 

So he shrugged, willing as always, to take the brunt of his father’s wrath. “It is a fact, Father.”

Beron watched Eris and uncomfortable silence washed over them, making Eris tense, bracing himself as his chest tightened. 

“You see, this is what I was afraid of,” Beron said in a voice that promised the violence Eris had been anticipating and he straightened. “Not only do you play your games but you’ve made the mistake of getting attached to your wife.” 

Eris barely held back a snarl and instead, forced himself to take a deep breath and then dust off his jacket. This was getting fucken ridiculous. “If that will be all,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will be retiring for the night.”

But Eris had barely moved a step when his father’s magic lashed out, halting him in place. Another breath had him forced to his knees. “You will leave when I allow you to leave,” Beron said and it was the voice of the High Lord, the one that terrified his people into submission, the voice that haunted Eris’s dreams on the dark nights. 

He was locked in place by his father’s magic, his arms stuck to his sides with his back to his father and it was a position that had that flutter of dread flare to life in his chest. He couldn’t turn his head and had to swallow against the footsteps of his father coming closer. 

“You dare speak to me the way you do. You dare disobey and challenge me, especially in front of another.” the High Lord’s voice carried. “All for who? Your wife?”

Beron finally stopped right behind his son and Eris knew the yank was coming as Beron nearly snapped his neck, pulling his head back. He fought back every instinct in him not to flinch as his father’s hand tightened in his hair. 

“I thought I taught you not to be controlled by a pretty cunt.” he continued and Eris fought back his snarl as he glared up at his father. “I thought I made it clear that if I find your wife to be distracting you or that you weren’t controlling her, she would be easily replaceable.”

Beron shoved Eris’s head, letting go and Eris closed his eyes for a moment. A dangerous move with his father standing so close but he could already feel the room heating, was already choking back on his magic that wanted to rip from his throat and kill the male in front of him. He would kill and kill and kill. He would fill this hall with blood if he didn’t get it under control. After a breath, Eris swallowed his anger and opened his mouth to answer but his response died in his throat when he saw his father’s sentries drag his father-in-law out and bring in something he hadn’t seen in a while. 

His father usually used his fists or his magic. His words could cut as easily as his blade when he was lashing out. But this…his father saved this for special occasions and Eris knew as his heart started thundering in his chest, that his father might leave his wife alone but he sure as fuck would make Eris pay for it.

His mouth went dry as the sentries placed the flogging pole in the middle of the throne room and began setting it in place, only a mere foot away from him. 

“What do you think son? Should I bring your little Iris here? Tie her up. Break her a little.” Beron mused and Eris’s heart stuttered in his chest, the fire in his veins turned to ice.

“I hardly think that’s necessary.” he said tightly. 

Beron’s chuckle made gooseflesh erupt on Eris’s skin and he tilted his head to give his son a cruel smile. “Her father mentioned something about the two of you earlier. Something seemed off during his visit.” the High Lord mused. “Is your wife not satisfying you, son? Do you need someone to fuck her for you? Break her in a little bit?”

Blind rage flared through Eris’s body and he nearly snapped himself in half trying to break out of the hold his father’s magic had him in. But Beron only laughed at Eris’s wild snarl. 

“You don’t like that?” The High Lord taunted. “It doesn’t have to be me this time, of course. But there is no shortage of males in the Vanserra line who could deal with her if you don’t like her. You do have three brothers.”

“That is enough.” Eris would kill him. He would skin him alive and tear his father apart limb by fucken limb if he so much as looked at his wife. 

Beron gripped Eris’s chin tightly and forced him to meet his gaze. “Her father also happened to mention that he used to leave delicious bruises all over her as well. Do you do that too?” 

Eris’s breath stopped altogether as his father leaned in. “Should I give her some to match yours?” Beron said softly. “Do you think she’d like a different Vanserra hand bruising her alongside a different Vanserra cock?”

“Beron.”

Eris snapped his head as his heart leapt into his throat, his magic going numb at the sight of his mother striding towards them and the Lady of Autumn was seething, steam licking each of her steps.

“Leave him alone.”

“Mother.” 

His mother ignored him as she glared at the High Lord who narrowed his eyes at his wife and Eris knew he would beg like never before. He would plead with everything he had for his mother to leave. He would let his father skin him alive if she’d just walk away from this unscathed. 

“What are you doing here, dear?” Beron asked, his tone so polite it made Eris want to vomit at his feet. “This is a conversation between my son and I.”

“This isn’t a conversation, this is a punishment.” Enya snapped. “One he does not deserve and you should not be giving.”

“Telling me what to do, are you, Lady Enya?” the High Lord asked and Eris felt a slight panic bubbling. He couldn’t stand to watch. He couldn’t see it happening again and again.

“Mother.” Eris called again and she met his gaze. “There is nothing to worry about. Please leave.”

“I will not leave!” she spat. “You plan to hurt your son for what? For what, Beron?”

“Watch that fucken tone, Enya.” Beron snarled. “Your son and his tone have already tested my limits today. Don’t push me or it’ll be you I bring here next.”

“No.” Eris immediately snarled and pulled against his father’s magic, still binding him in place. “Mother, it’s fine — please,  please leave.”

Enya’s eyes snapped to her son and Eris watched her chest rise and fall, her breathing hard and Eris could see the slight steam coming from her fingers now. If she didn’t watch herself, she would unravel, and then Beron would know — he would know what they’d been working on. He’d know she’d been healing and all their work would’ve been for naught. The High Lord would just find new ways to break her.

“Mother.” Eris said more firmly. “It will be fine. Go.”

“It will not be fine.” she seethed and Eris hated the way her bottom lip trembled as she turned back to Beron. “This is not the way. Don’t do this. Leave him be. He has done nothing wrong.”

“You.” Beron sneered and took a step towards hers. “You are the reason he’s so soft and I am sick of it. Leave now and I will deal with you later.”

“Don’t you —” Enya began and stumbled back a step with a small gasp as Beron backhanded her and Eris felt himself leave his body as she turned to glare at the High Lord. “How dare you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Beron snapped. “Get the fuck out of here or I swear to the gods you won’t be able to use your limbs for the next week.” 

“Mother, look at me.” Eris nearly screamed then demanded again, “Look at me.”

And Eris wanted to die at the sight of all the rage and all the frustration in her eyes as she looked at him. He wanted to throw up at the red blotches marring her cheek. 

“I will be fine. Father and I are just having a conversation,” he said calmly. “Then it will be over and things will be perfectly normal tomorrow morning.”

“Eris —”

“Mother.” he cut her off, desperate for her to leave before Beron changed his mind and tied her up here anyway. “Please do as Father says. Goodnight.”

Enya’s chest continued to rise and fall as she took a breath, looking at her son and Eris wished he could have killed his father years ago, just to avoid the hurt in her expression. She turned back to her husband and though hatred shined so clearly on her face, she swallowed and said the one word Eris hated to hear from her, “Please.”

“Don’t.” Eris almost begged but Enya stepped closer to her husband.

“Please don’t do this.” 

Beron merely stared at his wife with disdain and then scoffed. “You can beg me later. After you apologize properly,” he said then waved her away with a sneer. “Get out.”

Revulsion marred the beautiful face of Lady Enya as her mouth trembled and with fisted hands, she spat at the High Lord’s feet. “You disgust me.” she whispered venomously.

The High Lord glanced down then smiled coldly at his wife. “You will pay for that.”

“I already did.” she said and glanced once more at her son. “I have never stopped paying for it but I will not leave.”

Eris swallowed and he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He wished and wished but could do nothing else as his father stalked over to his mother and yanked her by the throat.

“Father —”

But Beron’s flame wrapped around his mouth and gagged him. He could only watch in horror as whatever his father was saying into his mother’s ear, too low for him to hear, had her face pale. He could only watch his parents stare at each other and rage silently until Beron shoved his mother away from him and said once more, 

“Get out.”

His mother shot Beron one last look of disgust before she turned to Eris, her mouth once again trembling in rage but she straightened. “I’m sorry.” she said gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Eris shook his head as he watched her reluctantly leave. She would never have anything to be sorry for. He would never blame her. She had stayed for them and endured for them and he would never let her apologize for anything his monster of a father did.

His father finally waved a hand and Eris let out a breath. 

“That was unnecessary, Father. You didn’t —” 

But Beron’s magic slammed into Eris once more, choking him as Beron watched him with dead eyes. 

“You once told me what happens between you and your wife is your business.” Beron said too calmly. “The same applies to my wife and I. Don’t worry about your mother. We’ll only have a nice chat before bed.” 

“Father —” Eris wheezed but Beron cut him once more, the High Lord’s magic closing off his airway. 

“No more words from you.” Beron said and with a wave of his hand, dragged Eris across the floor to the flogging pole. “It’s been a while. You seem to have forgotten yourself, son. So let me remind you why I am your High Lord and you do as I say regardless of how you feel about it.” 

His father leaned in close as Eris’s arms were forced up and he couldn’t help the hate in his eyes as the High Lord smiled down at him. “Now…let’s give you a whole new look, shall we?”  Beron said softly. “We’ll see what your pretty wife thinks of you then.”

[galedekarios]

Hello, you may have already talked about it but I love drows and Altonaufein is such an interesting character. Fun fact, I got the game a little bit later than everybody and for, like, a day or two, I thought he was an actual NPC or maybe a companion lol. Anyway, I'd love to read your thoughts about him! (or maybe I just feel some kind of kindship since my OC is also a drow with a lot of issues and an ongoing crush on Gale.

thank you so much for your lovely message and your kind words about altonaufein! i was really blown away when i saw your message. (((': i'm also super happy to find another drow player. i'd be super interested to hear more about your oc as well, if you feel comfortable sharing!

i'm very it took so long to answer, i just always draw a blank when i'm asked about my ocs, even though i love them and lot and probably have an entire library of lore inside of head about them.

i did manage to write up a bit about altonaufein, though! i've had his character for a very long time. he was originally intended for icewind dale 2, but then baldur's gate 3 was announced and i decided to try and translate his character into the game and was pleasantly surprised by how well it worked!

born in ust-natha, altonaufein is the third child--but the first son--of a small but prestigious house of a long line of clerics and devoted worshippers of lolth.

at a young age, altonaufein had a very cautious and gentle nature to him, showing signs of great magical and spellcasting talent. these talents were decided to be nurtured in the service of lolth--even if altonaufein was only a male, it stood to reason that he might still become a passable asset and tool for his house, if little else.

his life took a turn for the worse when he began to see a bright silver moon in his trances, heard the sweet melody of a lyre, saw a dark dancer in a sky he'd never seen. foolishly, naively, altonaufein told another of his house--his sister iraeae, who he had once been close to--about his strange dreams, his visions. his trust was misplaced and he was severely punished in hopes of correcting him, driving those visions from his mind, to not bring shame to his house any further. after this, altonaufein began to ignore his dreams and, consequently, unknowingly, eilistraee’s call.

he was initiated to become part of the clergy to lolth by the trial of strength: if he failed, he would become a sacrifice. if he succeeded, it would bring lolth's favour to his family--either way, he would not be a waste to his house.

altonaufein survived the trial, barely. though, with what was to come, he sometimes wishes he hadn't.

iraeae, at the same time as him, undertook her own trial of lolth:

chwidevbrii, or the test of betrayal. it's a punishment that strikes particularly deep. trust is a distasteful concept to drow, though they understand that sometimes it does happen and is even necessary to survive. to rid themselves of this, to succeed this test, the drow must betray someone who has garnered her trust or in whom she has placed her trust. mentors, teachers, leaders, friends, family. as long as there has been a solid connection of dependence made in the past.

the drow must utterly destroy her victim in a way that allows her to advance in some manner. the method is not important: blackmail, slander, torture... magic. in the end, the victim must die or be thoroughly disgraced and dominated. usually, the victim is murdered by the drow herself, commits suicide, or is killed as a result of the drow's action. so what better way to show to her goddess that she is a true drow, that she is worthy, what better way than to serve the house, than humiliating and dominating someone who was once a little brother.

drow females are able to dominate the mind of any chosen male with but a spell and one such spell was cast on altonaufein, and iraeae triumphed in her trial. a victim of inter-house politics as so many others before him, he was left as little but a thrall, serving in a many different ways.

he was there, under that spell, until it broke: iraeae dead by her older sister nadriina's hand--betrayed just like altonaufein had been by her. altonaufein doesn't remember how long it lasted, remembers only parts of it. the many hands. the pain. he remembers fighting. other drow. other prisoners. the surface. running. the moon. fever.

altonaufein escaped to the surface in a haze, he wandering aimlessly before all the strength went out of him and he collapsed. yet eilistraee must have guided, must have protected him, once more, as she tried to, so long ago: he had collapsed near a small settlement around a small church of ilmater, the god of compassion and healing, of mercy and atonement. they took altonaufein in because they deny no one in need of their help, not even a drow.

he was taken in and nursed back to health over the course of many months by a follower, living at the temple: an ex-soldier, a deserter, by the name of karl. they formed a deep bond, despite their differences--or perhaps because of them-- and despite altonaufein's initial distrust.

once recovered, altonaufein hacked off his long hair, so many issues, so many bad memories, tied to it.

still, he came to see what happened as a chance he doesn't think he deserves: to start anew, to help, to learn how he could be more than simply a honed weapon made for killing. he offered his services to the small settlement and the temple, even if ilmater is not the god he prays to.

he helped everywhere he could in any way he could, ignoring the whispers that followed him, his own intrusive thoughts, his episodes, triggered by too sudden movements, unexpected brushes his body or mind.

altonaufein helped to tend to the crops, helped with the harvest, repaired walls and fences, treated wounds and healed. he would earn their trust, prove himself.

the one person who stood by his side through it was karl.

karl, who, after his abduction on the nautiloid remains his guardian as he been so many moons before, swearing to protect him once more:

🖤

it's bit by bit that he learns to accept himself for who he is, what he is. his heritage, his past, his future, his new faith.

he gets to heal on this journey and find peace.

i'm sorry this got so long and ramble-y, but he's my special boy. (((': thanks again so much for asking about him!!!