#the divine right of kings + the divinity of fate is SO necessary to this fantasy. it cannot ever be done away with. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yukidragon · 10 months ago

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What if Prince Joseph got tired of being treated badly and decided to be the ruler if the kingdom by any means necessary. As revenge on how badly his family treated him and succeeded, way before they tried to assassinate him. How would the story go from there?

Hmm... that would be an interesting twist on the tale. Rather than waiting until he becomes the all powerful dragon Jack to take back the throne, Joseph instead takes the initiative while he was still human. It might stop Joseph from being cursed into a dragon in the first place, or maybe destiny will force its hand to ensure that he meets with a draconic fate regardless...

As things currently stand in the timeline I set up, Joseph lived in an era long before the other love interests and MC were born. Either something still happens that allows him to encounter them later, possibly even reincarnation, or maybe, just maybe I can take this chance to flip the script a little.

But let's first focus on the tale of the unwanted prince who came to rule a kingdom.

From Prince to King

Joseph did his best to earn his family's love, but their cruelty towards him was too much for him to ignore. It left scars on his heart and twisted it. It wasn't just cruelty towards him either, as the family were tyrannical rulers to their subjects. In order to escape the abuse at the hands of his family and the cutthroat court politics, he took advantage of them wanting him to "live like a dead rat" and snuck out of the castle often while growing up.

Once leaving the castle, Joseph got to see what it was like for the rest of the kingdom, the suffering the people endued. His world expanded as he met more people and learned of new experiences, other ways to live, and learned more about all the injustices that his family were responsible creating. He knew that it wasn't going to get better with the future heir, or even the next in line after them.

Nothing would change... unless Joseph forced it to change.

Joseph, like many nobles, had learned how to sword fight, and he was good at it. His skill in battle was one of the many ways he tried to seek the approval of his family. He put those skills to use when he secretly gathered an army of rebels and launched a coup.

It wasn't an easy decision for Joseph to make, turning his sword and the hatred of the people on his family. Unfortunately a strong love can be twisted into hatred that is just as strong, especially when all the love he gave them was only met with cruelty and scorn in return. All of the suffering he and the citizens faced were returned tenfold.

Joseph was a hero to the people who freed them from tyranny, while still being of royal blood, and thus being worthy of the divine right to rule. Regardless of whether he ever felt worthy of the crown, he had no choice but to wear it, or risk seeing the entire country fall into anarchy. Without a ruler to guide them, the various factions would splinter and squabble with one another to fill the power vacuum left behind leading to more and more bloodshed.

Being king wasn't easy for Joseph, especially at such a young age. He was still a teen at the time, but things had escalated far faster than he ever expected. It was a miracle that things didn't go worse than they did, really.

Joseph's education never focused on preparing him to rule. If anything, such an idea was actively discouraged at every turn. Still, he had a good overall education, and he learned so much from his time with the people. If anything, learning firsthand about the needs of the kingdom was a far better teacher than any tutor had ever been.

Of course... learning by doing means learning from mistakes, and Joseph is a man who has made many mistakes in his life...

So now that Joseph is king with his family deposed, in a way he feels more lonely than ever. He made comrades, but there's a distance between them now as he has to rule. He now lives with the memory of the people he killed during the coup, including members of his family. He had to order and watch the executions of those who survived the coup, but were still too dangerous to live.

Joseph has so much blood on his hands, but it was worth it... right? The people of the kingdom are happier now, right? He'll do better than his family did. He must do better.

Right?

Joseph is a hero to the people, but he's also under so much scrutiny. His power is balanced on the edge of a sword. As long as he can prove himself to be better than the rest of his now dead family, he can redeem his family name and lead the kingdom into a better future. As long as he makes the people happy, he will be loved, even if only at a distance as their king.

After everything Joseph went through, after all he sacrificed and the guilt that weighs on him for all the lives he took, he is more desperate than ever to keep the love and admiration he achieved. It's the only love he's ever really known.

Now... we could stick with the timeline as is from the original post, with MC and the others being born much later and something unfortunate happens to Joseph to encounter them later on, orrrrrrr... perhaps the universe will give the rest of the cast some different roles to fill.

It seems a shame that a dragon AU is without a dragon, so how about we flip the script? MC gets to be the dragon in this telling of the tale. However, unlike Jack, they were born a dragon rather than cursed to become one.

So let's turn back the clock a bit to mingle together a familiar set up with a few new twists, shall we?

A Lonely Dragon

Now, since MC has a vague background by design in order for us to fill in the details, I'll start off with just the broadest of strokes before I get a bit more specific with my version of the MC, Alice.

As was touched on in the previous post, dragons are beings made of magic. They also tend to be solitary creatures, beings so powerful that they can affect the land around them. This can lead to quite a lonely life, which is often filled by creating a horde of treasure. It doesn't necessarily have to be a horde of gold. A dragon can collect anything it wants. Who is going to stop them?

Dragons, of course, come in all sorts of shape, sizes, colors, and powers. This leaves so many possibilities for the MC, but in general, they're a creature to be feared, and many choose to leave them alone.

Humans also often want to slay these powerful beasts, especially if they are a threat... or simply perceived as a threat.

When MC was young, they came across a human that was just as much of a child as they were. Young Ian, the child of a noble, was in awe of the young dragon. An unlikely friendship developed between them, and strong feelings of loyalty, even love grew...

But sadly the happiness of youth can't last forever. Things fell apart when MC and Ian were adults. Sure, Ian could have cheated, but even if he didn't, he betrayed them in a way that they may never forgive.

A dragon, when young, is much more vulnerable than an adult. It can lead them to making foolish decisions, giving their weakness to someone they trust with all their heart, leaving themselves vulnerable... and if the person they trusted was swayed by others, it can lead to disaster.

Ian was always weak to his mother. It's just as much a fact in this universe as it is in the game. Dragons have a beastly reputation, fierce and terrible. They're the monsters to be slain in many a tale.

But MC is different! Ian tells himself. He tells his mom this too. He tells everyone in the mob that quickly forms to slay the dragon before it can raze their land to cinders and gobble them all up for its supper.

Maybe MC trusted Ian with a special tool or magical item to protect himself. Maybe they even went so far as to trust Ian with a piece of themselves, something that made them vulnerable, like a magical item crafted from their own magic, scales, whatever. Maybe they forced Ian to tell them a secret weakness. Maybe they were just caught off guard, having never expected the invasion.

Maybe they didn't want to hurt anyone...

In any case, MC was ill prepared for the band of stalwart adventurers to raid their lair and come for their head. The battle was gruesome, forcing them to flee, but outside of the cave an angry mob was waiting to strike the dragon at its weakest.

Ian had tried to reach MC, to warn them. Perhaps his warning was the only reason why they survived the attack from the band of adventurers in the first place.

Regardless, his betrayal cut MC deep, as did the many wounds from the battle, and they were forced to abandon the home they made for themselves. They lost whatever friendships and bonds they forged, betrayed by the one they loved and trusted most.

Embittered by the experience, MC left to find a new place to call home.

Ian wasn't the only friend MC had made in their old home. Shaun had one day stumbled across the dragon's den and was excited to meet a dragon in the flesh. Shaun was a scholar, wanting to wander the world and study its wonders, and meeting an actual dragon was like a dream come true. MC, having grown up with the friendship of Ian, became fast friends with Shaun.

Maybe Shaun helped MC escape from the mob that fateful night. Maybe he managed to at least misdirect them. Maybe he arrived only in the aftermath, learning only afterwards of Ian's betrayal. I lean towards Shaun managing to help in some way.

The new lair MC finds is so much emptier than their old home. They lost everything. Embittered and in hiding, they have lost much of their trust. Although Ian tried to redeem his betrayal, it still cut so deep. It makes them question their friendships will all humans, and they keep their distance from even Shaun for a while.

Of course, being a giant dragon is conspicuous. Fortunately, since dragons are beings made of magic, they can learn magical spells. A spell that can transform them into a human temporarily will allow them to blend in the nearby town to get supplies, and slip away to build a new home far from anyone who might hurt them again.

The merchant MC most often has to haggle with is Barry, who works in the adventurer's guild buying and selling from adventurers. It's obnoxious how the man seems to wrangle them into doing fetch quests for him. Still, with almost nothing to their name, and not wanting to face another mob by doing anything conspicuous, they play along, grudgingly. Still, fetching a bunch of goblin ears is less annoying than singing some embarrassing song for a few coins.

Nick is a bard in the town. He came across MC during one of their stints having to do one of these embarrassing singing requests at the guild's tavern. Being seen by anyone during these times was mortifying. How far the mighty dragon had fallen... but they found Nick to be a bit awkward as well during their interactions. It was almost... charming? Well, maybe a little comforting that they weren't the only one facing embarrassment. Maybe

Still, being around humans is hard for MC after what they've been through. They're constantly on edge, especially during the few times they visit any human settlements. They need to make sure they pass as human and not let anything slip of their true nature. They can never trust anyone like they did Ian ever again. They can never allow anyone to hurt them like Ian did ever again...

A Fateful Encounter

Joseph is an active ruler to his kingdom, constantly going out of the castle to ensure that things in the aftermath of the coup settle peacefully. He's constantly coming across people, having to meet and memorize countless faces. There are so many problems to resolve, tasks to delegate, and changes to be made from the regime that made everything so hard. It's exhausting work, and it seems never ending...

During a stressful period during his rule, one of Joseph's advisors suggest that he remind the people of the glory he showed them on the battlefield. Maybe defeating another threat to the country will quell any unrest before it could potentially bubble up into another coup...

Frankly, Joseph would rather avoid that. He already has so much blood on his hands, so much guilt. The sins he committed haunt his nightmares, making it even harder for him to find rest.

But Joseph can't rest, not really. He can't lose the fragile love of the people, the legacy he's carved for himself. He can't be forgotten again...

Sometimes Joseph left the palace in disguise, much like he did when he was younger. On that day, he used the alias of Jack and a little magic to look differently, turning his hair a pretty shade of blue while covering up the magical tattoos on his body. He used different disguises and aliases over the years. It helped him get a clearer picture of what the people actually thought of him and the country for himself.

It was a chance encounter. A dragon and a king both in disguise in a little shop of old things, antiques and curios.

The dragon had gone there to see if they could find anything interesting, something to add to their particular type of hoard perhaps. All dragons have the desire to hoard, and they lost theirs when they fled their old home. Slowly, they were building it back up, but it would take time, as they lost a collection that they had been building since they were a child, many sentimental pieces as well.

Sure, the dragon could probably steal stuff for their hoard, turn into their big powerful form and threaten anyone to take what they wanted, but they weren't that sort of person really. Plus, after their near encounter with death, they weren't too keen to get into another battle anytime soon. Though some MCs might be gearing up for a battle of revenge should they be o the mind to do so, while others could be much too much of a pacifist to consider it.

Regardless, while the dragon was thinking heavy thoughts about their future, they accidentally bumped into a stack of children's toys. A colorful box fell into another person who had been talking with the shopkeeper, and burst open, revealing a jester on a spring with a bright and shiny smile that startled them both.

Jack reacted quickly when something fell on him, as he was used to combat. Fortunately he refrained from doing anything more besides catching the box that hit him, though he did flinch when it burst open and revealed the jester inside. He chuckled a little and cautioned the person who knocked it over to be careful. He even added a silly little joke to ease the tension.

Despite his charms, MC was on edge against strange new humans, suspicious of anyone who approached them. They cautiously were cordial, giving their name when asked after Jack introduced himself, but they tried to end the counter quickly.

There was something compelling about this person, though Jack couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. There was something different about them. Maybe it had to do with all his years of training to fight giving him a sensitivity to people and things that were powerful or unusual, maybe he had become sensitive to mana due to training with magic in combat mighty enough to conquer a kingdom. Whatever the case, Jack couldn't help but be drawn to MC, wanting to learn more about them.

Though MC attempted to leave quickly without raising suspicion, Jack kept talking. He was strange - sort of charming but annoying by how he kept wanting to keep the conversation going. His silly jokes got groans, but his sincere concern about how they seemed to be having a bad day touched them, which left them with mixed feelings overall.

The encounter was only interrupted when MC spotted something among the various knickknacks of the shop - it was an item they recognized, a treasured item from their hoard, maybe even the most treasured possession they owned. Maybe it was simply a replica, or maybe one of the adventurers that raided their lair sold it to the shop. Regardless of what it was, MC had to have it.

It was just a shame that the price was outrageously expensive.

MC felt their frustration grow from the injustice of it all, compounded by the awkward situation. Why should they have to pretend to be something they're not? Why should they hide like this? Why should they hold back just because a bunch of humans decided they and all their kind deserved to die for no reason other than the fact that they were born? It just wasn't fair, and no one seemed to care at all.

Jack saw the mixture of emotion pass over MC's face, and it reminded him of those days where he felt similarly helpless and wanting. Caught on an impulse, he purchased the item MC wanted desperately and gave it to them, thanking them for keeping him entertained that afternoon with their company.

MC was caught off guard, expecting a trick. What was the catch? They can't just accept this for free. Nothing this good is ever free.

While it had been just an impulsive kind gesture, Jack was never one to pass up an opportunity. He wanted to know more about MC and what it was about them that drew him to them so much, so he decided to make it into a little game.

Well, to Jack it was a game, but MC didn't have to know about that just yet. He had other places that he wanted to visit that day, things he wanted to check. He claimed to be a swordsman with tasks to complete, and if MC helped him, he would gladly give them the item they wanted so desperately.

The tasks seemed simple enough. Though wary, MC agreed.

What followed was a day around the city. While Jack claimed that he had important places to be, it always seemed to involve stopping by to help someone out, usually some sort of coincidence that clearly couldn't have been intentional. Jack brushed aside such concerns by claiming that, well, since they're there, they might as well do a good deed or two for those who need it, right?

The day out with Jack forced MC to spend time with them and the humans that they were so wary of. It was an uncomfortable reminder to MC of the kinder side of humanity. It reminded them of the friendships they made, particularly with Ian and Shaun, even if the former ended badly. It was painful, but Jack noticed whenever they were down and always tried to cheer them up.

It was actually kind of nice being cared for like this, even if it was only because of the deal they made. Even if Jack had no idea what MC truly was. Even if MC was scared to trust humans again.

It was when the sun was starting to set that Jack sadly knew that their little game had come to its end, though he felt reluctant to go. He had grown fond of MC in their short time together, and there was still something about them that was nagging at him, something that told him not to let them go so easily. But even as they got used to his presence, they were still clearly uncomfortable around people.

This was what led to their final stop leading them outside of town. Jack had heard mention of some sort of animal being spotted at night off in the woods. He wanted to check it out before heading back to the castle, but he couldn't force MC to go someplace potentially dangerous.

It was a shame to part ways, but Jack ran out of excuses to keep MC around that didn't involve keeping the item they were so desperate to have. He could at least try to get a promise that they would meet again, though he couldn't be sure if MC agreed sincerely or if they just agreed for the sake of getting the treasure that he promised them.

Jack did consider ways to ensure that they would meet again despite their reluctance, when MC suddenly bristled, instantly on edge. He realized only a moment later what they had sensed - some sort of monster charging towards them.

MC, having the sharp senses of a dragon could detect the tainted magic of a monster instantly. They were then left with a problem. Do they fight and risk revealing their real identity, or do they run and leave Jack at the mercy of whatever beast was coming at them?

Jack, not knowing the internal debate, immediately moved to defend MC, drawing his sword, which they had not even realized he was carrying due to him hiding it.

When the monster revealed itself, it was something MC had encountered before, something they knew how to defeat with their abilities, but humans... well they tended to have trouble with this type of monster. This monster also enjoyed doing awful things to humans while in the process of eating them... delivering a terrible fate that no being should endure.

And here's this foolish, goofy, smiling fool of a human thinking that he can kill it with a sword when only magic could?

MC could abandon Jack of course, but even if their heart was harder than others, the afternoon with him reminded them of the good side of humanity. Then of course there's the MCs who wouldn't hesitate to save someone when they knew they could change their terrible fate, even if it meant exposing their secret.

Needless to say, Jack was not expecting to be saved by a dragon. MC, knowing how to handle this type of monster, dispatched it quickly, and consumed it along with its magic, making themselves more powerful in the process.

Of course, MC didn't expect to be thanked. They expected Jack to point the sword at them next, declaring them to be the monster like so many had in the past.

What MC didn't expect was Jack to ask if they were okay after that.

Jack, by this point, had learned how to act, hiding much of his feelings and intentions behind whatever emotion he needed to wear at the time. It was essential as a king in order to deal with various people. Though the appearance of a dragon was unexpected and alarming, at the same time MC was surprisingly beautiful.

Oh, sure they were beautiful in their human form, but in the sparkling hues of the setting sun, they practically glowed even brighter than the sun ever could. MC had been charming during their encounter, ferocious and powerful when defeating the monster, and now... vulnerable. It was that same sort of wary vulnerability that he saw before when they first met.

Jack talked to MC the same way he did when they were in human form, and it was surprising to them. Everyone who had seen them in their true form for the first time always had a big shocked reaction, whether that was excitement or fear. Jack was so calm, and surprisingly warm.

It felt... nice, confusing, scary, and all sorts of emotions for MC.

Of course, such a big battle drew attention of other people. The sound of approaching humans coupled with these emotions were too much for MC, and the reveal left them too vulnerable, so they fled despite Jack calling after them to come back.

What a shame that MC left behind not only the important treasure Jack promised to give them, but a few other of their important items as well. Luckily their new friend Jack would keep them safe until the two of them could meet again.

And they certainly would meet again. Jack would make sure of it.

What is a Dragon to a King?

Well now, Joseph had a conundrum on his hands. A dragon, a mythical beast of great ferocity and power was masquerading around in his kingdom as a human. A "good" ruler would be expected to order knights and adventurers to slay the "wicked" monster before it could lay waste to the kingdom and consumed any of the innocent people.

Yet, MC was nothing like those tales. Really, were there any stories of dragons pretending to be human? They were powerful creatures, the the most powerful some might say, with bodies made of magic that could be harvested for incredible potions and magical tools. Their bodies alone were worth a fortune, to say nothing of the treasure they guarded. For as dangerous as they were, they offered riches beyond compare.

Funny... how a rich and powerful dragon fumbled around in a shop and lamented the price of a single trinket. The rest of their behavior that day defied all the tales as well. MC was just like any normal human, distrustful and wary, but noble. They revealed their true nature to save Jack, a mere human that should have been nothing more than cattle to slaughter to such a creature. Dragons were widely known for arrogance and greed, for regarding humans as beneath them.

Joseph had to admit that MC had interested him even before their true nature was revealed, and after it was, he saw the beauty in their inhuman form. There was nobility in MC as well, shown in that single act of bravery and kindness, as well as all the other little moments throughout the day. Though Jack may have dragged them around reluctantly, in the end MC did help him assist others. They had rather fun day together in fact.

Aside from his feelings, Joseph has a duty to his kingdom. He has to keep his subjects safe from potential dangers.

Does MC count as one of those subjects then?

If people learned of a dragon nearby, let alone secretly infiltrating the capital city, there would be riots. This is especially a dangerous thing in a country that only recently stabilized from a drastic shift in power and civil unrest. The monster that had suddenly appeared to attack Joseph and MC had been alarming enough. Adventurers were scouring the nearby woods for any others.

What if one of those parties found the dragon? The fear rumbling through the land would erupt into a full blown panic, and MC would be facing an angry mob out for blood.

Joseph didn't want to think of what would happen then to MC and the rest of his people. He had to protect them, all of them.

Even if that meant doing things that could be cruel to some... but he was used to it. Joseph's hands were already irrevocably stained with sin after all.

Joseph worked with the mages and his most trusted advisors to come up with a cunning plan. A stealth party tracked down MC's lair and a trap was laid.

MC would have fled the area if they could, but with the increased patrols due to the monster attack, they couldn't go far. They were afraid of going out in their human form for fear that Jack spread news far and wide about their true identity. They had hoped to lay low and wait until things calmed down before slipping out of the country.

It was a shame that they had to leave behind another home, but MC didn't have any other choice.

Well, at least they would have if they didn't get an unexpected visitor.

Jack showed up unexpectedly to MC's lair, much to their shock. He approached while speaking in soothing tones, saying that he had looked for them all over and that he had been so worried about them. He didn't mean any harm. He wanted to thank them for saving him, and he owed them something. He presented the treasure he promised them, a peace offering.

MC was hesitant, wary, but also painfully lonely. Despite knowing their real identity, Jack was so gentle and kind. It made them waver.

Jack offered to be MC's friend, to give them a place to stay, to belong. He could keep their secret and make sure no one hurt them. They just had to trust him.

Here would be a decision for MC to make - take a risk and trust Jack, or reject him outright. If they agree, even hesitantly, they could even lie just to trick him and flee into the night.

Well... if Jack would let them get away from him that is.

The events of that night are a blur. Whatever happened, the trap Jack laid... it wound up with MC waking up in the palace, forgetting the night before entirely. There, they were bound by enchanted chains, and informed that they belonged to the king now. So long as the dragon obeyed the king for the good of the country and its citizens, it would be allowed to live.

Surrounded by so many wary eyes, seeing MC as a beast, chained up in their true form... it was a nightmare.

This, unfortunately, was for optics and the fearful human citizens. The people were scared of a giant dragon. Only this show of absolute obedience would prevent an angry mob from trying to slay MC. MC, understandably, was enraged at the assertion that they were now the pet of the king, but their own magic was turned against them to force their obedience.

Joseph hadn't wanted to use such forceful methods. He hoped that over time he could calm MC's anger, and those of the people. He wanted to quell all the hurt and fear, and maybe help both sides see that a dragon living in the kingdom among humans could be the best thing to happen to both.

His methods might be cruel and manipulative, but it was all for the sake of everyone's happiness and the safety and peace of the kingdom that Joseph was tasked to maintain.

Of course, Joseph knew that MC hated the king for capturing them and putting them in this position, so he used his alter ego as Jack to try and grow closer to them as a person. He carefully avoided directly lying, but left important details out. MC was suspicious when Jack showed up of course, even if they didn't remember the trap, even when he still acted so kind and gentle.

Jack explained the reason the king ordered MC's capture... how once the people learned of a dragon they wouldn't rest until its death. The kingdom that tried to kill MC before were still trying to find them. There was a bounty on their head. Being the king's "pet" was the only way to protect MC from the scared humans. If the king had control over the terrifying dragon, then it would lessen their fear. It would allow them time to see MC isn't a scary monster, but a friend they just hadn't met yet.

In essence, Jack was trying to soften MC's opinion of the king and sound them out while explaining his reasoning. MC was still, understandably, very pissed that their freedom was taken away from them.

So what was Jack's role in things, MC accused, suspecting betrayal once again. He was careful not to lie, claiming that he came upon hearing MC's capture. (Technically true, since he came after they secured MC after the trap was sprung.) He knew they weren't a danger since they saved him from the monster, and, well... after the day they spent together, he felt like they became friends.

Jack claims that he talked with officials and mages and vouched for MC's character (true) and he was willing to take the chance to prove MC was a good person regardless of whether they were human or not, so he offered to be MC's guardian. (Also true, considering king's pet and all.) He would watch out for them and give them a chance to prove themselves to everyone just how good a person they were and that the humans had nothing to fear.

MC isn't really given much of a choice.

From here it's up to Jack to try and befriend MC despite the circumstances. Strangely enough (at least to MC), they never meet King Joseph face to face, and the orders they're given are surprisingly mild. In fact, they're given a surprising amount of freedom... provided Jack is the one in control of the magical restraints.

Really, there could be a way for MC not to have magical restraints if they make a pact with Jack outright that binds them together to ensure they won't be a danger. It's probably better than being in chains and it would allow them more freedom, which Jack very much wants... though it would also make sure they can't run away from him, which he also very much wants.

Jack does his best to give MC as much freedom as he can, while being aware of how it appears to others. He needs everyone to believe he has MC totally under control if he's to keep them safe. He also wants to make sure MC is happy and make up for his deception and keeping them on a leash.

How the other love interests come in would be due to word spreading quickly of the king's pet dragon. Shaun and Ian would instantly hear the word "dragon" and rush over, wondering if it's MC. They would then try to come up with their own plans to escape with MC, or at least communicate with them. Ian wants to so badly make amends for betraying them so long ago, and Shaun wants to help his friend who doesn't deserve to be in chains!

Nick comes back into the story by somehow managing to make the connection between MC the human he encountered a few times and crushed on, and the dragon the king took as a pet. With his connections to nobility, he arranges meetings with MC whenever he can. How their relationship develops from there is a question for another day, same with how Jack might find Nick's presence a help or a threat.

Here in lies all the different potential routes MC's story could take. Do they trust Jack, King Joseph, and the rest of the kingdom? Will Nick win their heart? Will Ian redeem himself? Will Shaun free them and run away with them?

Naturally, the love interests do see the beauty in the "beast" and are fond of MC no matter the form they take. This leads to potential romance routes as well.

A Dragon Named Alice

Of course, you know me and my love of my OTP. Jack and Alice are endgame. Well, Alice and Joseph in this case. With the general gist of the MC's story out of the way, let's play with how Alice would shape some of the details just by being herself.

The type of dragon Alice is would be a furry dragon, soft and deceptively cuddly. I am forever a Lunar Silver Star/Eternal Blue fan, so I imagine she would look a lot like Nall in his dragon forms, both baby and adult, only totally white. Well... maybe a bit softer in shape and details like Ruby is, but still all white. She would still be albino in this world, with the same light blue eyes. For a dragon she's small, but even when compared to a human she's fairly large.

Alice would be a bit chubbier than Nall here, maybe a touch more cat or bunny-like in shape, but also even cuddlier than he looks.

Alice still comes from a large family in this universe. Dragons are powerful beings, affecting the natural magic in the land and ley lines around them, so it's best if they live spread apart. Too much magic in an area could warp and change it in unexpected ways and turn the land strange. Like, say, the cursed dark woods from the dragon Jack AU? ;3

So dragons tend to live alone or in very small groups of 2 or 3. The exception being temporary gatherings, such as special events or while raising their children.

Even as a dragon, Alice is the oldest child. Sadly, as oldest, she was expected to leave the nest first. She went off on her own at a young age because she had made a friend during her adventures in her childhood.

Alice came across Ian one day while flying around on her own, just having fun zipping around in the sky. She spotted him despite his attempts to hide in some foliage. He had been bullied by some kids. She heard him cry and felt bad for him. Innocently she went to cheer him up, despite her parents' warnings to be wary of humans. Ian just looked so small, pitiful, and harmless. He was so wounded and her heart went out to him.

Ian was amazed to meet a young dragon, though Alice looked quite a bit like a flying cat. (I make no apologies for my love of the Lunar dragon aesthetic and how it influences me to this day.) It was a wonderous first meeting, and from there they became fast friends, meeting in secret when Alice could travel to meet him. When she was finally old enough to live on her own, she went to create a lair near where Ian lived so that they could see each other all the time.

It's such a shame that Ian let the secret slip. Alice is a gentle soul, even as a dragon, and she nearly died when the adventurers attacked her cave. It was only with Shaun's help, and her transforming into her baby dragon form due to using up nearly all of her magic in the battle, that she escaped with her life.

Though Alice had fallen in love with Ian, his betrayal cut her too deep to trust him again, even when he found her and apologized. She couldn't stand to be near him after he destroyed her trust and scarred her heart so badly, so she left, never to return.

It was some time before Alice recovered enough to try again to make a home for herself. She lost everything when her home was raided, leaving her to start again entirely from scratch. Her hoard wasn't as rich in treasures as other dragons, but she crafted beautiful trinkets made of gemstone and gold as a hobby, one she learned from her father, and she had an entire library filled with books, many old and valuable ones.

The most precious item that Alice had lost was a pendant her father made out of a blue rose that her mother grew with magic. The pendant wasn't terribly powerful, even though it was magical, but it was sentimental and beautiful. She never thought that she would find it or anything else she lost in that raid ever again.

Alice did consider going back to her family... but at the same time she felt like she couldn't. She trusted a human despite the warnings she grew up with, and paid the price for it. She felt ashamed, as though she couldn't go back to see any of them until she redeemed herself... somehow. The problem was that she wasn't sure how.

Needless to say, when Alice's random trip into an antique shop led to the discovery of her lost pendant, she was shocked. It made her almost forget about trying to end the conversation she was having with the overly friendly man with blue hair.

The fact that Jack was willing to buy her pendant for her despite the price was shocking. Alice couldn't believe her luck.

She didn't believe she was that lucky.

So Alice wound up accompanying Jack around in exchange for the pendant, helping various people. She pretended to be a human mage, and Jack made use of her powers, especially her healing abilities. Despite having kept her distance from humans if she could help it, she found it gratifying to help people in spite of everything. Their gratitude and smiles warmed her scarred heart.

Defending Jack against the monster had been an instinctive decision. The moment she saw it coming for them, she knew that she had to act. Sure, she could have fled, but then that would be leaving Jack to die.

For as much as humans had hurt her, Alice couldn't do that to an innocent person, especially someone like Jack who had been nothing but kind to her and went out of his way to help others, including herself.

Alice didn't want to see how Jack reacted when she transformed, or after she killed the monster and absorbed its magic. She didn't want to see his shock or fear. Even if Ian and Shaun were shocked and in awe when they first saw her, even though they were her friends... Ian's betrayal had cut her deep.

Though Alice wasn't expecting to hear Jack call her beautiful, or to say it in such an awe-struck, breathy tone.

Finally Alice did look back at Jack, she was taken aback by the wonder in his eyes. No one had looked at her the way that he did. It left Alice frozen in place until she noticed him slowly approaching her.

Unfortunately, Jack was not the only witness to the monster. There had been others in pursuit of the beast as it headed towards the capital. They caught sight of Alice in the distance, or at least the large shape of her, and she fled quickly into the night before Jack could say another word to stop her or prevent the knights from rushing towards them, ready to attack.

Alice laid low while the monster hunt was going on, hiding in the cave that she had tried to make into her new home. She packed up what little possessions she spent so long collecting in this place, once again planning to abandon her home.

Hopefully this time she could keep at least a little bit more than just her life. It was only a shame that once again she lost her precious pendant...

While waiting for an opportunity, Jack arrived.

Alice was, naturally, shocked by his presence. He never expected him to find her. He approached her cautiously, making sure that she knew that he was there to make sure that she was safe, that he had been worrying about her all this time and was grateful that she saved him.

Jack wanted to convince Alice to come with him of her own free will. He said that he wanted to be her friend the day they met, and he still meant it. He promised that he could keep her safe, make sure no one came after her.

Despite how friendly Jack was, Alice couldn't trust someone that she barely knew, not after someone she grew up with betrayed her.

Thus Jack is forced to do what he feels is best for Alice. He just has to get her to trust him and understand that he only wants to protect her.

Needless to say, Joseph is pretty sketchy in this AU no matter how you slice it, hahaha. Still, he does have Alice/MC's best interests in mind, as well as all the people of his kingdom. He also falls deeply in love with his sunshine, naturally, which only complicates things further.

Still, despite the sketchiness, I want to give my OTP a happy ending. Despite Joseph pulling such a stunt, he does pay for it narratively at some point before Alice does eventually forgive him after learning to trust and even love him as well. When that finally happens, Joseph is going to be able to appreciate some big floofy hugs from his sunshine, and maybe she'll take him on a ride or two.

Yes I do mean that in both senses of the word. ;3

Well, I think I'll end things there for now. This post has gotten pretty long, probably because it's about dragons, hahaha. At least I just capped off at around 20 or 21 pages this time. I'm just a sucker for all things fantasy and dragons, and add in my OTP, and I can ramble on and on and on for way too long.

I hope you all enjoyed this alternate path for a dragon AU and the possibilities that it could present for us to play with. If you want to hear more about this or any other AU, please let me know! Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the next ramble or story post. Thanks for reading!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings

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catofadifferentcolor · 2 years ago

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Terrible Fic Ideas #17: GOT, but make it Rhaenys

After reading a couple very interesting points about feminism and the patriarchy in House of the Dragon, I got angry - angry in the same way I get when I think about Rhaella and Elia's position as victims in the narrative. Then, when I cooled down, I got a plot bunny:

What if Rhaenys, not Aegon, got the Young Griff narrative in ASOIAF? Or: what if Rhaenys survived the Sack of King's Landing?

Just imagine it:

Jaime kills Aerys just like in canon, but unlike in canon, the shock doesn't set in quite so quickly - or maybe just another form of it does, as instead of staying with the king he killed he rushes to find the king's heir, Prince Aegon. He is the only Kingsguard in King's Landing, after all, and Aegon is the new king.

He finds Aegon dead and Elia three-quarters of the way to dying. He kills Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch, saves Rhaenys, and on her dying mother's wish flees with her to Essos.

Jaime raises Rhaenys like a younger sister, filling much the same role of Jon Connington in the books. The difference is that, while it could be argued that Rhaenys is the rightful queen, Jaime has enough on his plate just keeping them both alive. He raises a girl, not a monarch - which is probably for the best anyway.

Key to this fic is: Rhaenys is just a girl. She's not a skilled warrior, though Jaime teaches her enough of knives to defend herself if necessary. She's not a super spy or spymaster, having somehow inherited the Stark bluntness without any blood relation. She's not a femme fatale, though she could be considered pretty enough when she grows out of her lanky androgynous childhood phase. All she is is a smart, stubborn girl who grows into a thoughtful, determined woman.

The rest of canon continues as before, minus Young and Old Griff. Robert becomes king, is cuckolded by his wife, dies; Ned is executed; Jon Snow is sent to the wall; &c. Very little of this matters at first to Jaime or Rhaenys. They're just trying to survive.

But then it does start mattering. Rhaenys might not be rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms per the Targaryen's agnatic-cognatic succession laws (brothers before daughters) - that would be Viserys. But under normal Westerosi (sons before daughters) and Dornish (eldest child first) succession, she is. Once Viserys dies, Rhaenys claim is absolute. If anyone believes she is who she says she is.

But it only starts mattering after Viserys dies.

More specifically, it only starts mattering after Daenerys decides to imprison her dragons in the Great Pyramid of Meereen. Drogon escapes his brothers' fate - and manages to find Rhaenys in the wilds of Essos. Rhaenys chooses to rename him Balerion and becomes his new dragon rider.

Drogon/Balerion is taken as a sign. Maybe not divine providence, but as proof Rhaenys might be able to pull off reconquering a continent like she's starting to consider. And so... they do.

More specifically, they follow somewhat Daenerys' arc in the final seasons of GoT, hiring the Golden Company and taking over Dragonstone while Stannis is away.

And when newly crowned King Jon Snow comes to parlay? Well, Rhaenys is practical. She's a queen who needs military support to gain her crown, he's a king that needs dragons to save Westeros. They join their crowns like Ferdinand and Isabella did Aragon and Castile. Which is to say, they enter into a dynastic marriage, which offers them both legitimacy, military and economic support for both sides, and the potential for desperately needed heirs. It's definitely not love at first sight, but love grows.

Then they go off and fight the white walkers, because ice zombies bringing the apocalypse is an easy lie to disprove, so why lie about it? The exact details of how don't matter - maybe it goes exactly as in the show, maybe it's quick and easy with a dragon and a queen who was raised by a man who was very clear about her father and grandfather's failings and therefore very little of the Targaryen sense of boundless superiority.

The North secure, they turn their attention to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. It goes better than expected, with the caveat that the southern nobles demand Jon and Rhaenys be crowned monarchs of the Seven Kingdoms together, as even a bastard is better than a woman in many of their eyes. But as Rhaenys is already handling most the day to day running of both their kingdoms while Jon deals with the military, it's one they have no problem agreeing to.

Throughout all of this, no one has any ideas Jon is the son of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, least of all Jon.

It comes out one day - perhaps when Jon and Rhaenys have a purple-eyed child despite taking after their Northern and Dornish heritage respectively; perhaps Bran says something - and they have to contend with the fact that the spouse they've come to care for is actually their half-sibling, but it changes little. Rhaenys rules, Jon is just there to lead the armies and keep the southern lords happy.

Throughout all of this, Daenerys is scheming in the background to get her throne back, assuming Rhaenys is a pretender, but her invasion attempt goes rather sideways when Rhaegal abandons her for Jon during the first battle. Unfortunately, not even the lure of other Targaryens can overcome Daenerys' desire to be queen at this point, and so she's eventually repulsed back to the Essos. She remains a thorn in Rhaenys' side for the the rest of her life, but when Daenerys dies without heirs, Viserion rejoins his brothers at Dragonstone.

Bonuses include: 1) The Dornish throwing their support in with Rhaenys, but Oberyn having difficulty with her ability to forgive feuds he's been nursing for years - she loves Jaime despite his inability to save her mother or brother and is willing to marry a Northerner despite Lyanna shaming her mother; 2) Rhaenys smashing the patriarchy, not by acting as a man, but by just being a competent ruler; and 3) Jon being utterly content to be a house husband after the fighting ends, serving more as the Red Keep's master-at-arms than co-ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

And that's all I have. It may not be particularly coherent, as it was written over the course of a hectic week, but as always feel free to adopt. Just link back.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #asoiaf #plot bunny #fic ideas #rhaenys daughter of elia #jon snow #jon snow is a targaryen #Jon x rhaenys

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garden-ghoul · 6 months ago

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Tonight we have a new poet for you: please give it up for Wang Anshi!

Yi was Lü was already an old man when he passed through hardship to fortune. If fate hadn't sent the king to meet the fisherman, the ploughman, that hero would have just grown old. King Tang met him King Wu met him by chance. As wind follows the tiger and cloud the dragon, the founding king is found chatting and laughing. A thousand years later has anyone matched him?

Notes and original text under the cut.

浪淘沙令·伊吕两衰翁

伊吕两衰翁，历遍穷通。一为钓叟一耕佣。若使当时身不遇，老了英雄。汤武偶相逢，风虎云龙。兴王只在谈笑中。直至如今千载后，谁与争功

So, we feel like the historical context is reasonably important for this one. Wang Anshi was a Song-Dynasty political and economic reformist--he had a lot of radical ideas about how the wellbeing of the country relied on the wellbeing of the peasants who were feeding it, and therefore they shouldn't be squeezed for every last drop of blood by their landlords et c. Everyone ignored this until a new emperor ascended and got desperate enough to listen to him, so he was promoted to a high position. I feel there are echoes of that story here.

This poem concerns two parallel stories about the founding of the ultra ancient Shang and Zhou dynasties. Lü Shang (better known as Jiang Ziya) was a fisherman who was appointed as an advisor by King Wen of Zhou, whose son founded the Zhou Dynasty. Yi Yin was an enslaved agricultural worker who got transferred to the capital and became an advisor to King Tang Wang, who founded the Shang Dynasty (later destroyed by King Wen of Zhou, lol).

The fancy thing I've done with the spacing is to highlight the parallelism and clarify that these are two separate stories, the kings did NOT know each other (was unclear to me for the first like hour of translating this).

Anyway, here are some notes.

If fate hadn't sent -- an interesting grammatical construction here. The verb 使 to cause/send/use doesn't actually have a subject (or indeed a direct object; "king" is inferred) so I went with "fate."

would have just grown old -- 老了 another interesting construction: this is just old + the completed action marker. Laurence says it conveys a sense of finality, and also made the fantastic connection to Li He's Song of the Bronze Immortal: "If Heaven cared at all, it too would grow old." I translated this very literally because I have a hard time nailing down the figurative language at play.

met him by chance -- arguably true in Yi Yin's case, but King Wen of Zhou is said to have received a prophecy about meeting Jiang Ziya from his grandfather, and just in case checked it by divination to make sure he got the location right. Woah! Fancy meeting you here completely by chance!!

wind follows.... dragon -- an idiom meaning that rulers who are both mighty and virtuous naturally attract mighty and virtuous subordinates.

the founding king... laughing -- more fascinating grammars here. Two different words in this phrase, 在 and 中, indicate "being in the middle of doing something." There's also the word 只 "just," which maybe implies that chatting and laughing are both necessary and sufficient to founding a country. Laurence pointed out that this also has parallels to how a ton of politics ended up being conducted via teas and garden parties--chatting and laughing is also the substance of running an empire day-to-day!

A thousand years... matched him? -- we were struck by how formulaic this ending is, especially compared to the previous line about chatting to found a dynasty. Laurence guessed it might be by way of praise for the emperor who elevated Wang Anshi, or even bragging in the sense of, "Jiang Ziya, Yi Yin... and me! Wow, we're all founding empires! Our kings are so fortunate to have us!"

#wang anshi #gushiwensday

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a-mimsy-borogove · 1 year ago

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Crossroads, Part 2

“So, we’re doing Big G’s job for him? How does that help us?”

The away team—”Adam”, “Eve”, “Job”, and “Canaanite”—prepared their gear while Dr. McKenzie briefed them on the mission.

“The whole point of everything that’s happened is for Yahweh to finally impose His will onto the world. A central part of that is Lucifer’s condemnation to the lake of fire. We make that impossible, and the Divine Plan should unravel.”

Eve, whom they had agreed would take the shot, hefted her rifle. “Not a problem, boss. But what happens then?”

“We anticipate that such a severe disruption in His Plan should, in some sense, disrupt Jesus’ connection to Yahweh—and His divine powers.”

“He’ll be mortal?” Job asked, incredulous. “Why ain’t we taking a shot at Him, then?”

“You want to be the one to come at the King of Kings and miss?” Eve shot back.

“In part that,” McKenzie replied. “Also, while He won’t be able to strike us down as he would before, even if lethal force was successful, we expect He would simply be resurrected shortly after—and would finally bring His full attention on our group. Our strike needs to be non-lethal if we want it to stick.”

“What about the angels? They won’t stand around staring while we take out their King.”

“Actually, they might. As far as we can tell, angels are physical manifestations of Yahweh’s will, with little agency of their own, a state presumably implemented after Lucifer’s fall. With Yahweh ‘shorted out,’ the angels should be little more than floating light posts.”

The team looked over their gear once more. Among an assortment of weapons and tools, the essentials were laid out in the center: A Barrett M82, Eve’s weapon of choice for angelic foes; a propelled set of bolas, meant to immobilize Jesus long enough to use their main tool; a specialized mask, developed by the CPH with as many noise cancellation methods built into it as possible, all to prevent its wearer from speaking a word—or a Word. Applied Theology had determined that, in order to use His divine power, Jesus needed to speak it into being. The team’s mission was to prevent Him from doing so by any means necessary.

“Now, once we’ve taken the shot, you’ll only have a few moments where Jesus’ connection is broken, so you need to take Him captive fast. Once He’s incapacitated, prophecy should be so derailed that it becomes self-sustaining. We just need to make sure He isn’t able to issue a new prophecy once we have Him in containment.”

“Why is this going to work?” Canaanite asked. Everyone in the group paused and looked at her. She faltered, but stood her ground. “God is omniscient—won’t He know our plan? Won’t He be able to stop us?”

Adam spoke up first. “We have to assume not. This is our, er, Hail Mary pass. If this fails, countless people will die in agony, never mind what comes next. We are Humanity and the world’s last hope.”

“And if He were going to stop us, I’d say He’d have done it by now. What the Doc said sounds right,” Job added.

Doctor McKenzie was last. “I am right. All our research has supported it. Yahweh can’t act outside His word, so we make sure He can’t give new ones.”

Canaanite was one of the few members of the CPH who maintained some level of faith. She hesitated. Am I really doing this? She thought of the lessons from her youth. Then she thought of the fire, the earthquakes, the countless dead she had seen, and she resolved herself. Yes—I am. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

“Then it’s time,” Adam said. “Team, tonight we fight for something bigger than any cause before. Tonight, we fight for the fate of our world! Our people! Tonight, we defend Humanity!”

“FUCK YEAH!” Came the reply.

#writing #ex christian #hfy #mimsy writes #a fork in the road

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mallaacht · 2 years ago

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💀+ Rikas dad

The Divine Punishment of Rika's Father

(@monterraverde specifically because we talked about this~!)

It was not meant to be personal, it must never be personal. They were the King of Kings and must render verdicts without passion or bias.

But sometimes...

...you can only love the sinner so much before you snap.

It did not take long for them to track the man down to some dirty old dive of a place in a whole other region. They did not mind it at all, able to teleport from place to place at will if they had been there before. And they walked so many places in this world, it was almost a curse on its own to be able to be everywhere as needed with a single thought (the cries of injustice were everywhere after all).

For someone like Mallacht, they stood out too easily. They were a man out of time and it showed; despite choosing to wear a modern suit and tie instead of their normal regalia, the way they moved, walked and mingled among the masses they would always be seen apart from the rest of them.

It was a lonesome existence, but that was the fate of a deity, especially one like them.

Rika had told them that her father resembled her and she had not been kidding. While there were obvious differences, that familiar shade of green caught their eye and they almost thought they brought themselves to the wrong location. Having their target, they approached the drunkard (the man was swaying and slurring, while imbibing even more by the second; such greed, such disgusting gluttony) and dragged him out of the establishment into the nearby alleyway. Nobody stopped them. Such scenes were routine in such a seedy bar in the middle of the slums. Even when they would start hearing screams, nobody would lift a finger, such was the environment they were in.

Mallacht had slammed the man into the ground and before he could get up, slammed his foot onto his back, hearing a satisfying crack and a scream of anguish, and pitiful sobbing. They checked where they had connected and was actually disappointed, because they missed his spine. His pelvis and tailbone definitely took the brunt of things. Ah, no poetic justice of him losing the ability to walk, it seemed. They could aim another devastating kick (fueled by divine strength and a healthy dose of anger), but there were other things to do.

He won't be living for long.

On a normal day, they would have allowed Zanoir to have him. Quickly ended this man's life, so as to not let him suffer. Poor humans, unable to get away from their natures, how could they blame them for just being human?

But there had to be limits. Rarely did their ire rise -- atrocities happened all over the world ranging from rampant racism to genocides of a whole people and even then, they would be gentle and merciful, ushering the sinful to their speedy ends.

But not this one. He did not deserve their mercy.

Because it was personal this time and like in old, ancient myths, one should never anger a god.

Mallacht crouched, pressing a knee into the man's back to keep him pinned. They broke bones earlier, but humans were incredibly resilient and surprisingly wily. They had no fear of harm, but they did not want to be inconvenienced more than necessary for this act.

"Know that this is your penance for the harm you have cause," they stated simply, grabbing an arm and twisting it back. "In my age, if one struck a prostitute, your hand would be cut off. Now, can you imagine the penalty for striking a woman in general? Or a child? You don't have enough limbs for me to take away, but I shall give you a taste of their pain."

Taking his hand, they snapped a finger right off, immediately getting a chorus of howls, screams and profanities. The man bucked underneath them, but it was useless. Mallacht had him stuck to the ground.

"That was for hurting your wife." Snap, crunch. "That one was for ruining the innocent lives of children." Rip, tear, snap. "For this, for taking away a girl's beautiful dream...."

On and on it continued until both sets of hands were a mangled, twisted mess. Were he to live, there would be no living life normally for him anymore. Of course not every finger was missing, some simply broken and left at odd, agonizing angles no human hand should be at; it was much crueler to leave a hand disfigured rather than completely devoid of fingers. Being crippled such would have people pity him, were he to live past this moment. However, leaving behind a few fingers? They would be seen as a freak by those with less merciful hearts (and the man certainly surrounded himself with those of that ilk).

They rose up carefully from the man, who writhed on the ground now, calling them all sorts of names, promising vengeance.

Mallacht had to laugh at that, the sound so hollow and empty that it was liable to drag things into it, like a blackhole. Such was the depth of its emptiness.

"If that is all you have to say to me, you disgusting waste of flesh, then this is where we part ways. I have been away from your daughter long enough."

Every other moment, Mallacht would have granted oblivion. Being eaten by Zanoir did that. Loss of everything. No sense of self. No existence. Only the sin remained as part of the massive that grew every day. But this time, they simply decided to do things the 'old fashioned' way, summoning a spectral blade.

"I was told that years after my exile and curse that royalty were punished by beheading. Aren't you lucky, good sir, to go the way of royalty? You must feel so special."

Without further preamble, they brought down the blade in a swift, devastating motion, severing the man's head from the rest of his body. The deed was done. He would not hurt anyone anymore. Just another death amongst many in the slums, Mallacht mused, as they turned away and returned 'home'. News of this man's death would be hitting local news eventually.

They wondered what Rika would like for dinner, now that they had done the chore of taking out the trash...

#monterraverde #tw graphic violence #tw torture #tw death #and then that ending #man just casually wondering what to cook for rika after committing MURDER

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thatsparrow · 2 years ago

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As a matter of course, Calroy could give a shit about the Bulb. Prayerful mornings spent in the local church never did much to endear him to religion, dressed up neat in a starched shirt and bumping elbows with his seven brothers in the second-row pews. The light turned bubblegum pink and blue from where it filtered through the sugar-spun stained glass, him mouthing along to the hymns while his brothers kicked at each other's shins, and the whole place smelling as stale and soured as the winter clothes in his father's closet when they were shut away for the spring.

Then, Cal got older, and it was made-up stories in the confessional to playact at penance, stretching fact until it became warped fiction as easy as twisting melted taffy between his fingers. Not that he didn't have sins of his own that begged forgiveness, but what fucking right do the ministers have to his secrets? Cal could give a shit about the Bulb, but he's paid enough attention to his father's piety to know what's expected of him, has seen enough of religious fervor to understand that practicing at reverence is a necessary price for any sort of power. Prayer is just another form of lie, and Cal is used to living with half-truths between his teeth.

So, no—he is not and never has been a religious man, and believes far more in his own power than the promise of some divinity from above. But here, standing below the castle's tallest tower, staring at the shattered—empty—crater where Amethar Rocks crawled away from a promised death, Cal finds himself wondering for a flickering moment if maybe there isn't something divine at work after all.

"My lord?" A soldier in House Cruller livery waits a step behind where Cal is knelt in front of the crater. "I don't mean to disturb you, but there's been word from Dulcington—some sort of commotion at the river."

Cal exhales, sharp. Fucking of course. Of course this can't be simple. "What kind of commotion."

The guard swallows. "It, ah—it looked like members of House Rocks, my lord. Reports that seem to describe Queen Caramelinda and Princess Ruby, as well as King Amethar—"

"Who?"

"King—" the guard pauses, "—the former king, my lord. Apologies."

The former king with my fucking crown.

"Anyone else? What about Sir Theobald, or the Jawbreaker boy?"

The guard shakes his head. "No word, my lord."

"No? Look harder, then. If they're anywhere in or around the castle—breathing or no—I want them found."

The guard bows slightly in assent, then departs, leaving Cal alone with the would-be grave. So Amethar and the others continue to make the mistake of surviving? That's fine. Let them stretch out their numbered days with this desperate, ill-destined escape attempt. Whatever the Pontifex preaches of the Bulb—whatever the empty pit in front of him may suggest—the only hand at work in Cal's fate is his own, and it will see him ascended with Amethar's body at his feet before this is all through.

#dimension 20 #a crown of candy #calroy cruller #already told on myself in the ao3 notes but this was supposed to be a longer fic that I never got around to finishing #and am instead posting it as a solo scene #my fic

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five-miles-over · 3 years ago

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Father of Dragons (Emperor Commodus AU)

Summary: Eight-year-old Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus is enchanted by the tales of the first dragons that lived in Rome. One night, while visiting his deceased brother’s tomb, the sole heir of Emperor Marcus Aurelius witnesses those very tales being brought to life.

Word Count: 1,326

Warnings: Mentions of sibling death, some historical inaccuracy (as far as I know, there probably were not real dragons in Rome. I just wanted a chance to see my favorite emperor interact with them)

For young Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus, mythology was more than a collection of simple bedtime stories. They were aspirational tales of divine valor for the rising emperor in him, and a fantastical escape for the playful child within him. Tired of hearing tutors drone for hours about insipid philosophy and mind-numbing mathematical theorems, the legends of brave kings, beautiful nymphs, and horrifying-yet-powerful creatures was an oasis of wonder for the eight-year-old. Whether many of those stories were actually true or not was an entirely different matter; he loved them and believed in them with unwavering faith.

"Pompeii…after the eruption of Vesuvius?"

"Yes, Highness," Servilla, governess of the young emperor of Rome, narrated to him one night. "It was said that the first dragon eggs were found at the foot of the volcano after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius had taken place."

Little Commodus sat up excitedly in bed, eager to hear more.

"There were three of them, buried beneath layers of ash and ignored for several years until the eruption. It is said that dragon eggs could be hatched in the presence of roaring flames, and can only occur with the sacrifice of human blood. The legends say the many lives lost in Pompeii was the necessary offering for the gods to bring the dragons to Earth."

"Who is the patron god of dragons, Servilla? Is it Lord Vulcan?"

"I am afraid that I do not know, Highness." She raised her veil above her head, and tucked back a curl of hair. "After the dragons had hatched, they were sold as commodities in the public markets of Pompeii. Bought by frivolous aristocrats, they were a source of entertainment while they were little creatures who spit sparks of fire. The poor believed them to be favored by the gods, perhaps even a reincarnation of the Greek hero Agamemnon. He was said to wear a blue dragon motif on his sword belt when he fought in battle, and a three-headed dragon on his breast plate."

"Was one of the dragons blue, Servilla?"

"One of them was blue-scaled, another was red-scaled, while another had black scales. When they grew up, all of Rome wanted them dead. They were too big to keep as pets, and were very quick to anger. They breathed fire among those who displeased them, and always wanted large portions of food. Sometimes," she whispered in a menacing tone and reached for the little emperor. "They would snatch young boys playing and eat them up!"

"They would never catch me!" Commodus laughed as he was being tickled. "I would not make them angry."

"After several complaints from the people of Pompeii, Caesar Caligula decided to adopt the dragons himself. He wanted to train them to be his personal weapons. In his mind, the dragons would be strong enough to destroy anyone who dared to stand up against his rule.

They were mighty and could never be killed. They were the strongest creatures in the entire empire! However, the dragons fled the mad emperor. It is unknown where the two of the dragons escaped to, but the bones of one of the dragons were found in the city of Lanuvium, near the sea. His rotting red scales became one with the sand, and his teeth disappeared to the bottom of the ocean."

"How long do dragons live?"

"They are said to be able to live for centuries, Highness. That is, if they do not die in combat."

Despite Commodus adorably protesting for more details about the legendary dragons of Pompeii, asking if they ever had any progeny, and if they ever served another emperor, Servilla gently told Commodus that it was late and a good rest was necessary. She bade him good night and blew out the candles in his chamber.

————————————————————————————————————————

"And Servilla said that Emperor Caligula tried to tame them, and they soon escaped after his assassination. Tales of their ferocity were sung in the streets - one of them escaped to Lanuvium!"

Commodus waved his hands about as he retold his governess's stories to the coffin, barely a week he'd heard them himself. It was almost customary for the young emperor to visit the crypts every so often and "talk" to his deceased loved ones as if they were really there. Commodus knelt before the tomb of his brother Annius, not caring for the dust soiling his legs. It had been barely ten days after his eighth nameday, and yet it seemed as if Fate had decided to play a trick upon him…by taking away the last remaining brother he had.

"I swear, 'tis almost as if pre-ordained by the gods! I must ask Father when we go there again - there could even be baby dragons waddling along the beaches. It would be a delight to see."

The young emperor was interrupted by the sound of his name being called, most likely by Lucilla. He murmured a silent prayer to his brother's tomb before picking up a flaming torch to find his way up the stairs. Commodus tip-toed along one hallway, only to be encountered by an intimidating marble statue of the late Emperor Antoninus Pius - Commodus's own maternal grandfather. Dismissing this pathway as a dead end, he turned around and attempted to find another way out.

Suddenly, Commodus tripped over something - he couldn't quite see it well, but it was certainly heavy - and the torch fell from his pale hands. Yet to his surprise, the fire did not seem to hurt him at all, his skin remaining unblemished in the split second when the flames brushed against his arm. No burning sensation of any kind…the fire almost felt like the water from his bath. Comforting, in a strange way.

Perplexed, he grabbed another torch from the wall of the crypt, bringing it closer to the floor. What was it that caused him to trip? It was a chest, with enigmatic engravings all over it.

"Gods…"

With one hand holding the torch and the other fiddling with the lock, Commodus boldly opened the chest. Inside were three eggs - all scaly, yet of different hues - nestled in a bed of straw. One of them was crimson red, with black tips on its scales. The middle one bore a shade of emerald and twitched at the sight of Commodus, while the right-most egg was obsidian-hued with gold tips on its scales. They all seemed to have a few cracks, as if they had already begun to hatch.

Dragon eggs could be hatched in the presence of roaring flames, Servilla told him earlier.

Without much thought, the young emperor set the eggs on fire, dousing all three of them in flames. His green eyes widened with excitement as the eggs fidgeted and the shells continued to crack. After what felt like several enchanting hours, the flames finally subsided and in the place of the eggs, there were three baby dragons surrounded by broken shells.

Commodus knelt before them, extending his left hand as the crimson-colored dragon pecked at his palm. It was almost like playing with the birds in the palace courtyard. He even let himself chuckle as they croaked and breathed little puffs of warm smoke.

"You're so beautiful," he immediately gushed out of admiration for the little beasts. "As the one who brought you to life, I promise to care for you like my own kin."

Commodus turned to the crimson one, naming it 'Marcus' after his father. With a grin, he decided to call the green dragon 'Commodiana' because it bore the same color as Commodus's own eyes. And as for the obsidian one with flakes of gold, Commodus named it 'Annius' as homage to his late brother.

"Commodus!" His elder sister Lucilla rushed down the stairs and let a shrill cry escape from her lips as soon as she saw where he was. The princess was horrified at the little beasts, immediately asking her brother what he was doing.

"They are dragons, Lucilla, and so am I."

#commodus #emperor commodus #commodus au #commodus thirst squad #commodus fic #commodus imagines

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rayofsunas · 3 years ago

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Hey so regarding inazuma and Baal I have some head cannons and your my favorite writer so I thought I’d just dump them all here.

Insazuma is the nation of eternity right? And Baal is basically the second archon after the original one died off somewhere presumably 500 years ago during the destruction of khaenri'ah.

The vision hunt decree was created for the Perdue of “eternity” and subsequently the people who’s visions were taken lost all their ambition. You get where I’m going here? Maybe Baal isn’t acting out of greed, but are justificing her actions to protect her people? The people of khaenri'ah had ambitions greater than anyone in that world could comprehend; they lived withought the guidance of a God, sought knowledge well beyond their limits and created destructive machines capable of “tilling” an enter battle field. Already we can see a shift in the archons perspective towards celestial- venti stated outright that he doesn’t like celestial, and Zhongli not only retired from his role as an archon but placed several meticulously planned tests to gouge his nations strength and stability in the face of a destructive god. Both nations, in a way, are becoming more similar to khaenri'ah in that they are both Godless, independent, and free from omnipotent influences.

Here’s my theory; The Goddess Baal, before inheriting the title of Archon, had witnessed the massacre and destruction of the khaenri'ah people and in order to prevent her nation from suffering the same fate she had launched the vision hunt decree to remove the people’s ambitions before it consumes them. She has witnessed the power of celestia, and in order to avoid the same fate she has made it her goal to separate Inazume from khaenri'ah in all forms and that’s why she continues on her role as archon instead of watching from the sides like venti or Zhongli.

Another thing, a small spoiler warning for those who haven’t finished the quest

I think people who are emotionless used to be the most emotional and heartfelt kind of individuals. Ayaka describes the Raiden Shogun as a cold and emotionless being, akin to a manager or something (I can’t remember her exact words) and I think that’s because Baal had been planning the decree for a long time now and had to steel her resolve knowing the impact it would have on the common folk. In her mind, what she is doing is better for the lo run and is necessary for the survival of her people.

This is just a theory, I haven’t finished the quest myself but it’s been weighing on me for quite sometime now. Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day!

SPOILERS + be prepared for my declarations rambles.

YOU’RE SO SMART, AND YOU'VE SPURRED ON MY LOCKED AWAY THEORIES THANKS. and I thought similarly, though now that you mention it, baal behaving selfishly seems like she could be protecting her people. after all, the vision hunt decree only happened recently (I think months to a year before the traveler’s arrival in mondstadt), so something shifted dramatically between the archons and celestial for baal to do that in the first place.

me and my friends chat about theories like this all the time on discord and everything you said makes so much sense! I also thought zhongli stepping away from his role as an archon was not just his way of freeing himself, but his way of seeing how his people would fair without a god (this is legit confirmed i think); and they’ve done just fine, proving to celestia that they’re wrong in believing nations and people need a ruling governing body, like an archon. but I feel like baal is still just selfish, even if she’s doing this to protect her citizens, my gut is just telling me she could be both selfish and also be doing this to protect her people.

but about the archons; my friends and I have tied the archons to tons of real life lore and myths, and something that keeps popping up with all the archons is different types of religion and beliefs; we found out that they each represent or are similar to the seven princes of hell (and there’s something about them coming up in demonology a crap ton too, and the similarities are a bit too similar... PAIMON IS MENTIONED TOO AS A KING OF HELL IN DEMONOLOGY LORE AND THAT'S NOT VERY CUTE.... I HAVE SO MANY THEORIES FOR PAIMON YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!). but I think the archons are like 50/50 bad and good (like they’ve done bad things willingly or not before the travelers arrival aka destruction of khaenri’ah) but celestia is the main antagonist, I’m 100% positive of that.

the hydro archon is said to know not to make an enemy of celestia/the divine, so I feel if any of the gods were to back celestia, it would be the hydro archon. but, this leads me to my first question; what in the world does celestia think about the gnosis’ being taken? I’m gonna assume they may care a little less about venti and zhongli because they’ve basically retired, but the other archons? they’re still active and actively represent celestia, so I’m curious to know what celestia would do when baal’s is taken (we know that she’s the next target, because one of the tsaritsa’s goals is to take them all). will baal be punished since she’s still an active ruling archon, or not? something is telling me she will, but who knows...

and this may sound obvious, but i think the archons represent celestia’s own ideals, although over time with the change of archons and maybe shifted opinions in celestia, said archons have changed and now their actions contradict what their title is, I think the reason behind that is because they’re the original and last reigning archons over their respective nations, but the others? they represent ideals, and some of their actions or just people interfering (harbingers talking the gnosis') have contradicted what they stand for entirely.

for example,

venti (ideal is freedom): his is so ironically obvious, but his gnosis was taken from him, against his will; there's nothing free about that. and he also retired from being an archon, and because of that went into hiding, also nothing free about that either; yet he represents freedom. you see what i'm trying to say? lol.

zhongli (ideal is contracts): nothing for him because i don't know much, but i think it's funny how he represents contracts, which are usually very tedious and there's a lot of depth in them, and he just gave his gnosis up so easily and willlingly (even if he has his reasons) by creating a contract like ???? it's funny to me.

baal (ideal is eternity): I haven’t started the archon quest yet for her, but I know she says she is the most eternal of all and sees herself as everlasting, but she’s legit younger than a good few of the archons (venti and zhongli so far!). I also think the original archons ideal was eternity and that’s what they had hoped for their people, but after the fall of khaenri’ah, war, and their death, baal came into power and realized it would be a threat to celestia if the people believe in eternity (like I said, something shifted severely after the war, because a lot of the original archons died or disappeared and their ideals almost became shrewd and a thing of the past with the new ones who took their places) therefore creating the vision hunt decree to get rid of visions; with more people coming into contact with visions, or maybe even when they realized humanity would be fine without an archon ruling over them, war would break out again and this time celestia would be the target. speaking of targets, this is random, but there’s an overwhelming presence of military surrounding/in inazuma and maybe that’s not just to collect visions and because war broke out amongst the people there, but it’s for protection against celestia and the harbingers (I think the other archons know about venti and zhongli's gnosis' being taken, so they're all weary). if baal were to overthrow celestia or betray them somehow, I’m sure since she’s an active archon they would retaliate.

the dendro archon (ideal is wisdom): the dendro archon is way more obvious, as dainsleif says he’s less than wise, but that’s his ideal... he’s also the youngest, so that’s another contradicting fact; young people are often called unwise.

the hydro archon (ideal is justice): I know nothing about her, but she represents justice. I don’t have a solid explanation for her, but based off of theories and if for a moment we assume celestia is the main antagonist, she is said to be afraid of celestia but seemingly backs them by not leaving like venti and zhongli... considering what they’ve done, I’d say she can’t possibly represent the ideal of justice correctly if what had happened to khaenri’ah was far from just, especially since the archons and celestia were behind it but her ideal is justice?

murata (ideal is war): I have no idea about her at all either, there's not much... but considering vanessa was able to pass into celestia when she died and she's considered the children of murata, I think we'll get more info on celestia then too, and more about khaenri'ah, since she's the god of war. she's gonna have the DEETS I tell you!!

the tsaritsa (ideal is unknown): nothing contradicting for now! she is a bit confusing because of how little info we have, but I have reason to believe she's against celestia, hence her taking the gnosis'. for now, until confirmed, I think her ideal or rather goal is to get rid of celestia. i don't think she has a gnosis or vision tbh, maybe the archon before her did and she's assumed to have one as well or maybe it even got taken away... but, i think that's one of the reasons she's created delusions, they're said to be a lot more dangerous and powerful (i think) than visions too. there's also this thing I found out about the gnosis' being designed after chess pieces, and how although there are 7 archons, there are only 6 chess pieces (pawn, rook, bishop, knight, queen, and king)... meaning one of the archons (not venti or zhongli, because we know what their gnosis' look like) has a gnosis that isn't designed after a chess piece... or in my words, doesn't have one at all. aka the tsaritsa... I think the tsaritsa not having a gnosis fits too snugly with her actions so far. and don't get me wrong! if we assume she doesn't have a gnosis, I don't think she's retaliating because of that, i think she just wants to change or get rid of celestia entirely. like this makes perfect sense because the tsaritsa is the only active archon seemingly and openly going against celestia's ideals, whatever they may be...

and about me saying the archons are "evil" or in the wrong for what happened to khaenri'ah (even if they were forced by celestia), in the archaic petra set, ZHONGLI IS SAID TO HAVE BEEN AN EMOTIONLESS AND MERCILESS GOD WHEN HE SLAUGHTERED COUNTLESS OTHER GODS DURING THE ARCON WAR, in order to fulfill a contract of sorts. this is why I think there were ulterior motives during the war and although yes, for now, it seems the archons were forced into complying during the war, I really think they had some willingness too.

at the end of my ted talk I have come to the conclusion that we can't trust the archons until we know more or celestia like... ever AND I STAND WITH THE REGULAR DEGULAR PEOPLE!!!

#rayofsunas #have i annoyed you yet with my essay? i really love theories I'M SO SORRY #like paimon is- big red sus #i spent so long on this don't flop #what do you guys think?#i might have to make a theory blog this is too much

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raxistaicho · 23 days ago

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Bowbowis and Diaphin said most of the points I'd have liked to make.

For my part, while it's perfectly reasonable for Rhea to spare the offspring of the Ten Elites (though the fact Nemesis apparently had no innocent descendants is very interesting), she doesn't appear to have tried very hard to incentivize humanity away from relying on the Crests.

Giving the families their Relics back (I'm just going to make the fair guess that, as the winners of the war, Adrestia likely seized the majority of the Relics from the Elites) was a particularly confounding move on Rhea's part if she had any interest in getting the families to stop abusing the blood of her people.

Then there's, of course, the fact that she effectively turned Crests from a super power to a super power that's also a quantifiable measure of the divine right of kings. Yes, some people would want Crests for the power they impart (this is where Rhea giving back the Relics becomes a problem), but not everyone. I've mentioned this before, but I don't think Ingrid's would-be suitor from her paralogue intended to marry her so he could have his future kids join the army. The only families for whom we know war is a business are Blaiddyd, Fraldarius, Gautier, Goneril, and Bergliez, but they aren't the only people out there who place a lot of emphasis on Crests as a mechanism to gain personal power. You'd have to be obtuse to deny that Crests are a huge status symbol in Fodlan.

Further, you (speaking to Random Nameless now) see people criticize Crests and seem to interpret it as a direct condemnation at the Nabatean blood in and of itself, but I sincerely doubt that's what the writers had in mind. Criticism of Crests is always more criticism of the social structure they form the cornerstone of. "The Crests are to blame" is a soundbite, not Edelgard's entire argument. She focuses on reforming the entire social structure of Fodlan, not just removing Crests from everyone (which isn't even a necessary step, as it's a major plot point that Crest bloodlines are getting weaker and it's getting harder and harder to produce Crested children) and calling it job done.

Ironically, Rhea's efforts to protect the surviving Nabateans only made Crests even more seductive to humanity, leaving humans to sort out the problem of humans obsessing over them. This is in keeping with the classic Fire Emblem trend of the youth of the current age rectifying the failures of their ancestors and predecessors.

I don't play Fire Emblem Heroes so I don't know how careless they are with dispensing spoilers, but the origins of Crests and Relics are a major spoiler in Three Houses and you simply can't have the characters properly address their genocide-fueled origins without spoiling that.

Hopes is a much simpler case in that it really doesn't focus on the Nabateans at all. Since in Three Hopes you play as the host of an ancient Agarthan, it focuses more on the Agarthans than Three Houses did. Between that and the necessary focus on the three groups of students, there's simple no room for narrative focus on the Nabateans, especially not when the only route in which they aren't the player's enemy is more invested in addressing the Tragedy of Duscur and the fate of the Duscur people, which Three Houses mostly left unresolved.

Three Houses doesn't dwell on how the Nabateans feel about their own genocide partly due to its split routing. Each route focuses on a different tale and central theme, with Verdant Wind being about unveiling the truth of the Relics and Crests and Silver Snow being about the Nabateans and Byleth. Obviously there's some overlap due to Verdant Wind being Silver Snow with a Golden Deer layer of pain slapped over the top, but unfortunately the route which is about the Nabateans is not the route where we learn about their genocide. Because of this, Seteth and Flayn basically have to be written as having more or less moved on with their lives, while Rhea focuses more on the personal tragedy of losing her mother and less on the tragedy of losing most of her species.

A blunder on the part of the writing staff? Abso-fucking-lutely. Three Houses would have been much better if it settled for two routes max, those being Crimson Flower and Azure Moon. Silver Snow is just not well-liked and Three Houses doesn't use the Leicester Alliance, the Golden Deer, or Claude especially well in the overall narrative.

But yes, the students are the main selling point of the Fodlan games. There's a reason FEH and Engage focuses more on White Clouds; Three Houses's unique DNA is tied into the academy setting. Focusing on the War Phase in crossover material would be like Engage crossovers ignoring the Emblems, or Awakening crossovers ignoring the future children, it'd be a baffling marketing decision.

Is it unfortunate that an entire race of genocide victims got left under-addressed as a result? Sure. It's as unfortunate as Engage simply never noticing the unfortunate implications that the Emblems exist for the sole, singular purpose of serving the people of Elyos, have no lives of their own, and can't engage (pun not intended) in any kind of earthly pleasure at all.

Yeah, that's all I wanted to say on that point.

Why do the FEH devs insist on ignoring Nabatean lore so much?

I recently had a surprisingly cordial discussion on redshit with someone about the "nabateans = colonisers" take, and one of the main points raised was that the game was purposedly foggy around Nabateans/Sothis/their story because it would obviously favor a certain narrative (and thus make another narrative look, uh, not that marketable anymore).

To be honest, we still ended up with a product that had a lead go "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and yet that lead is still marketable enough to have raunchy cipher cards and 5 FEH alts, so I actually wonder if, while pissing on that lore had that purpose, it was ultimately pointless since Supreme Leader can still sell goodies despite her incarnation in FE16.

And not only Supreme Leader - but the entirety of WC where we basically have 70% of the cast crying/complaining about their "mixed blood" or lack of and basically adding their 10 cents to the "this race and its blood is the reason why the world sucks".

I mean, can you imagine Sylvain selling any goodies and alts if Flayn replied to his "wah wah people only are kind to me and want to fuck me because I have Nabatean blood :(" by some uncharacteristic "good for you, I have to hide my ears, had to dye my hair, have to lie about my family because if the truth is found out about my identity, I will be hunted and vivisected like an animal and harvested for parts by people who call my kin abominations - just like what happens in the game where the same people who call my kin "abominations" ally with a classmate who calls me a creature and pretends I am incapable of human feelings based on my race".

FE Fodlan's main selling point is its cast of students, for various reasons, but even if I tried to kid myself, Nopes and FEH made it clears : students are the main selling point.

If you spare more time and attention to the Nabatean plot/lore, the students either grow from "likeable" to "despicable" or worse, you won't gaf about them because yeah sure, Hilda might be upset because people expect things from her due to her crust, but it would feel like a "peanut" compared to Seteth's irrational (granted, it's not so irrational since GW exists) fear that Flayn's newest friends would dissect her if they learnt she was a Nabatean, and being conflicted by finally letting her have human friends and form bonds she crave, or protect her due to the trauma from the genocide of their species.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanuts, I mean, not everyone can have a tragik of loaded backstory!

And yet, given how this verse's DNA is "can you fight against the red emperor who uwus about you", they had to add copious amounts of Earl Grey to their games so there's no clear-cut factions :

The "Your alien blood and its influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command" vs "I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

is turned to :

"Your alien blood Crests and its your church's influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command"

"I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

Sprinkle with the cast's hammering here and there that the "reforms" might be needed - but never develop on what they are - and add a few baseless and groundless takes as a toping (basically everything Claude says about tolerance and the general "isolationism/foreign policy" stuff) and you get FE Fodlan where the Red Emperor's war isn't seen as the catastrophe it is in the other entries from the series!

Now, for FEH...

FWIW, the F!F!Billy's trailer had them try to explain that Sothis was a bit pissed about her slaughtered/massacred children when Nopes never gave any reason about why she was pissed - maybe on Billy's behalf bcs Jerry's dead, but come on, she would indeed deserve the medal of the worst parent in the franchise if that was the case, since Billy can murder her daughter without Sothis taking over ! - but given that they cannot write/go against the source game those characters are from.

They tried a bit, with B!Supreme Leader and Hegemongard's FB, but then it stopped (because she had no "new unit" released since then lol) and I can understand why : Hegemongard came out before the Supreme Emblem, and Hegemongard hates dragons who are seen/perceived as gods by some of their human followers. Come FE17, and now Supreme Emblem accepts Alear because they are "one of the good ones". We can come up with HCs and details and talk about what are emblems or if Hegemongard's views were only hers at the end of AM all day long... But imo, Doylist wise, it still feels it's a retcon because the devs from the main games tried to scrap and remove the most "controversial" traits she had.

For the other characters... Well, you see what Marianne is in FEH (but even in her base games), she's one of the few characters who reacts - in a way - to the partial history about relics and demonic beasts and all... only to give sad uwus to Maurice.

FE16 (and Nopes) refused to have any "student" character react to the Nabatean lore/reveal, about what are relics and all. There are no lines, Claude shared some knowledge in the explore section of VW's last chapter, but we don't have anyone muse or think or even talk about what are relics, what are crests, and what kind of fuckery their ancestors or the ancient humans of Fodlan did.

With that in mind, FEH can't do much : either they write Marianne in a retcon-y way like what happened for Hegemongard (and they're not afraid to piss on characterisation, look at Lyon!), or they flanderise her "character" and develop her around 3 lines she had in the game in her paralogue, and continue to give sad uwus about Momo when he was at best a guy who slaughtered and murdered so much that he abused the Nabatean turned into a relic to the point where he turned in a demonic beast even if he had a matching crest, or at worst, had been part of Nemesis's piñata party in Zanado and was something of a genocider.

Tldr :

Why FE Fodlan never gaf about Nabateans : earl grey + the marketable cast has to stay marketable and you can't sell peanuts at the same price you'd sell swordfish

Why FEH dgaf about Nabatean lore : they can't afford to retcon characters + they have to sell peanut alts with the same seasoning they had in their base game.

For what it's worth though, I think FEH is more daring than the base game(s) given how they gave more lines and screentime to Rhea - through her different alts - than GW. And they even designed her Halloween!alt's lines to piss on some of Claude's assertions, while the various FB involving members of the church also - indirectly - reply to some accusations thrown their way in FE16 when, FE16, never gave them an opportunity or lines to explain that those takes were full of dung.

*"but random, maybe she doesn't know that the crests she often decries is "dragon blood"!"

It's highly debatable, especially given what she and Hubert throw to Billy in CF - but even if she doesn't, Doylist wise we still have a character who, knowingly or not, says "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and who is never called out on her prejudice. That's more of an issue regarding the general writing though, she has to be a red emperor and took pages from Ashnard's book, and yet, the player must still feel bad and want to romance her, so her mindest/goal cannot be looked at too closely, because, I guess, even the devs thought it would be difficult to romance her (thus sell goodies!) if more light was shed on the "blood from this race corrupts our people" schtick -> which in turn would also make characters whose backstory and gimmick rely on "crying about crests" be way less likeable, thus marketable and able to sell goodies.

#fire emblem three houses #edelgard discourse #edelgard positive

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thewidowsghost · 3 years ago

Text

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 9

(Y/n)'s POV

It doesn't take me long to pack. I decide to leave the Minotaur horn in the cabin, which leaves me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me.

The camp store loans me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. The coins are as big as Girl Scout cookies and have images of various Greek Gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron had told us, but Olympins never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in for non-mortal transactions - whatever that might mean. He gives Annabeth, Percy, and me canteens of nectar and Ziploc bags full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It is god food, Chiron reminds us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it is lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally, Fun.

Annabeth is bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she tells me had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She is also bringing a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she gets bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I'm sure the knife is going to get us busted the first time we go through a metal detector.

Grover is wearing his fake feet and his pants to pass as a human. He wears a green rasta-style cap, because when it rains his curly hair flattened and you can just see the tips of his horns. Grover's bright orange backpack is full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket is a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knows two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto Number 12 and Hilary Duff's 'So Yesterday,' both of which sound pretty bad on reed pipes.

We wave good-bye to the other campers, take one last look at eh strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hike up the Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, the Daughter of Zeus.

Chiron is waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stands the surfer dude I'd seen when I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy is the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he's wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I can only see the extra eyes on his hands, face, and neck.

"This is Argus," Chiron tells me. "He'll drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I hear footsteps behind us.

Luke comes running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. "Hey!" he pants. "Glad I caught you."

Annabeth blushes, the way she always does when Luke is around.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke tells us. "And I thought . . . um, maybe you could use these."

He hands Percy a pair of sneakers, which look pretty normal.

Then, Luke says, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels. The shoes flap around on the ground until the wings fold up and disappear.

"Awesome!" Grover exclaims.

Luke smiles. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turns sad.

Annabeth stomps down the other side of the hill, after arguing with Percy, where a white SUV waits on the shoulder of the road. Argus follows, jingling his car kees.

Percy picks up the flying shoes and then looks up at Chiron. "I won't be able to use these, will I?"

Chiron shakes his head. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air...that would not be wise for you."

I nod, getting an idea, "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"

His eyes light up. "Me?"

Pretty soon, we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy is ready for launch.

"Maia!" Grover shouts. He gets off the ground, okay, but then falls over sideways so his backpack drags through the grass. The winged shoes keep bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron calls after him. "You just need practice."

"Aaaaa!" Grover goes flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawnmower, heading towards the can.

But before I can follow, Chiron catches my arm. "I should have trained you two better, Percy, (Y/n)," he says. "If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason - they all got more training."

"That's okay. I just -" I stop myself.

"What am I thinking?" Chiron cries. "I can't let the two of you get away without these." He pulls two pens out of his coat pocket and hands one to me and one to Percy.

Looking down at it, I see a teal-colored gel pen. Maybe cost thirty cents.

"Gee," Percy says. "Thanks."

"Percy, those are gifts from your father. I've been keeping them for years, not knowing you two were the ones I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You two are the ones."

Instinctively I take off the cap, and the pen grows longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I am holding a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a teal and silver leather-wrapped grip. This is the first weapon that feels balanced in my hand.

"That sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron tells Percy. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"Riptide," Percy translates.

"I have never seen anyone use that sword that I'm aware of," Chiron says, turning to me. "Yours is named Τυφώνας."

"Hurricane," I translate, surprised that the Ancient Greek came so easily to me.

"Use them only for emergencies," Chiron says, "and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but neither sword would hurt them in any case."

I look down at the wickedly sharp blade. "What do you mean it wouldn't harm mortals? How could it not?"

"Those swords are celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It's deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don't kill you first. But the blades will pass through morals like an illusion. They simply are not important for the blade to kill. And I should warn you two: as demigods, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable."

"Good to know," Percy says.

"Now recap the pens," Chiron says.

Percy and I touch the pen cap to the sword tips and instantly Riptide and Hurricane shrink to ballpoint pens again. I tuck it in my pocket, a little nervous because it's pretty easy to lose a pen.

"You can't," Chiron says.

"Can't what?" I ask, slightly confused.

"Lose the pens," he says. "They're enchanted. They'll always reappear in your pockets. Try it."

Warily, I throw the pen as far as I can down the hill and watch it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron tells us. "Now check your pocket."

Sure enough, the pen is there.

"Okay, that is extremely cool," I admit.

"But what if a mortal sees one of us pulling out a sword?" Percy asks.

Chiron smiles. "Mist is a powerful thing, Percy."

"Mist?" I ask.

"Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whatever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go fit things into their version of reality.

I put Hurricane back into my pocket.

For the first time, the quest feels real. I'm leaving Half-Blood Hill. I'm heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone - Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be no worse than sending up a flare. I have no weapon stronger than a sword to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead.

"Chiron . . ." Percy says. "When you say the gods are immortal . . . I mean, there was a time before them, right?"

"Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age."

"So what was it like...before the gods?"

Chiron purses his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually, the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born."

"But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So...even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" I ask, feeling rather uncertain.

Chiron gives me a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, (Y/n). The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny."

"Our destiny...assuming we know what that is," I say grimly.

"Relax," Chiron tells me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, the two of you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."

"Relax," I say. "I'm very relaxed."

When Percy and I get to the bottom of the hill, I look back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron is now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur."

Argus drives us out of the countryside and into western Long Island, It feels weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Grover sitting next to me, Percy on the other side of Grover, as if we were normal carpoolers. After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seems like a fantasy. I find myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parent's car, every billboard and shopping mall.

"So far so good," Percy tells Annabeth. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

She gives Percy an irritated loo. "It's bad luck to talk that way."

"Remind me again - why do you hate us so much?" Percy asks.

"I don't hate you two."

"Could've fooled me."

Annabeth folds her cap of invisibility. "Look...we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"Why?" Percy asks.

Annabeth sighs. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."

"They must really like olives," Percy comments, and I stifle a snort of laughter.

"Oh, forget it," Annabeth grumbles.

"Now, if she invented pizza - that I could understand," I add, in a slightly teasing tone.

"I said, forget it!" Annabeth says, hitting me lightly on the arm.

In the front seat, Argus smiles. He doesn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winks at me.

Traffic slows down in Queens. By the time we get into Manhattan, it is sunset and starting to rain.

Argus drops us at the greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from my mom and Gabe's apartment. Taped to a mailbox is a soggy flyer with mine and Percy's picture on it: Have you seen these children?

Percy rips it down before Annabeth and Grover can notice.

Argus unloads our bags, makes sure we get our bus tickets, then drives away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulls out of the parking lot.

I think about how close I am to the apartment. On a normal day, Mom would be home from the candy store by now. Smelly Gabe is probably up there right now, playing poker, not even missing her.

Grover shoulders his backpack. He gazes down the street in the direction I am looking. "You want to know why she married him, (Y/n)?"

I stare at him. "Were you reading my mind?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Just your emotions," Grover shrugs. "You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?"

I nod.

"Your mom married Gabe for you and Percy," Grover tells me. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. This guy has this aura . . . Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him o you, and you haven't been near him in a week."

"Thanks," Percy grimaces from Grover's other side. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better."

I soften, looking down a the ground. I'll see her again, I think. She isn't gone.

You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, the Oracle whispers in my mind. You will fail to save what matters most in the end.

The rain keeps coming down.

We get restless waiting for the bus and decide to play some Hacky Sack with one of Groer's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable at it. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. Percy wasn't too bad either, but I found that I wasn't that great at it.

The game ends when I toss the apple towards Grover and it gets too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappears - core, stem, and all.

Grover blushes. He tries to apologize, but Annabeth, Percy, and I are too busy cracking up.

Finally, the bus comes.

I am relieved when we finally get on board and find seats together in the back of the bus, Me and Annabeth in one row, and Percy and Grover across from us. The four of us stow our backpacks.

I glance over at Annabeth beside me, who keeps slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh.

As the last passengers get on, Annabeth claps her hand onto my knee. "Look!"

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She is wearing a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadows her face and she is carrying a big paisley purse. When she tilts her head up, her black eyes glitter.

I see Percy slump down in his seat.

Behind her comes two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise, they look exactly like Mrs. Dodds - same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dress. Triple demon grandmothers.

They sit in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle cross their legs over the walkway, making an X. It is casual enough, but it sends a clear message: Nobody leaves.

The bus pulls out of the station, and we head through the slick streets of Manhattan.

"She didn't stay dead long," Percy says, his voice quavering a little. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," Annabeth murmurs. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpers. "Di immortales!"

"It's okay," Annabeth says, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moans.

"A back exit?" she suggests.

There isn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we are on Ninth Avenue heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," I say. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminds me. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" Percy asks.

She thinks about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof . . . ?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus goes dark except for the running lights down teh aisle. It is eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

"I need to use the rest-room."

"So do I."

All three demons start coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," Annabeth says. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?" he says with disbelief.

"You're the one they want. You killed one of them. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But you guys -"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth says as she glances over at me. "You're a son of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"I can't just leave you," Percy says, looking desperately at me.

"Go," I say, frowning and Annabeth hands him the cap.

The old ladies are not old ladies anymore. Their faces are still the same - I guessed they couldn't get any uglier - but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws; their handbags had turned into fiery whips.

The Furies surround me, Grover, and Annabeth, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The other people on the bus are screaming, cowering in their seats. They see something, all right.

"He's not here!" Annabeth yells. "He's gone!"

The Furies raise their whips.

Annabeth draws her bronze knife. Grover grabs a tin can from his snack bag and prepares to throw it.

Word Count: 3222 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

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imperiumrp · 3 years ago

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THE HEIR.

With the drums of rebellion echoing across the kingdom, ZENO MAXIMUS is currently sworn to THE MAXIMUS CLAN. HE currently bears the face of XAVIER SERRANO and is 25 YEARS OLD.

ZENO is the son of King Lawren Maximus and the current ruler of Celeia. His role as the king allows him to have access to immense riches and resources and makes him one of the most powerful figures in the Four Kingdoms. His training with Valerian has also allowed him to become decent with a sword and familiar in the ways of combat.

ALEIA IACTA EST.

YOU WERE NOT THE FIRST TO BE BORN, BUT YOU WERE THE FIRST BIRTH THAT MATTERED. It is an arrival long awaited by both the king and queen, who’d begun believing that a true heir would never be born, and that the sum of their legacy would rest upon a bastard daughter. Certain benefits came alongside being the SON that your parents always hoped for. You’d want for nothing— a platinum spoon laced between your pitiless, youthful fingers. Your parents never batted an eye at your outbursts and temper tantrums. They did not think twice when you’d pull your sister's hair, nor when your lips would twist upward in wicked satisfaction after successfully pulling a cruel joke on one of your father’s advisors. The potentials were limitless as the first legitimate heir— and you’ve pressed and prodded at every corner, determined to discover the limits of your destruction, and never quite being able to reach it. Expectations were contingent upon your own desire to achieve, for no one ever wanted to push the Maximus heir harder than necessary. All that is expected of you is to one day ascend the throne, and even this is never something you were ever expected to work for— for it is the fates that ordained your birthright. In the absence of expectation, you are left to your own devices. You never quite refine any skills in the way that you fine-tune your divine cruelty.

The siege is as much of a surprise to you as it is the mass majority, but you pretend as if it was always in the works, that you were always meant to be king so soon— for to be an heir whose own father did not trust him would mean to doom your reign before it even began. You’d been wholly unprepared for the takeover, not expecting to have ascended the throne for several decades longer, time you’d always promised would be spent becoming a king that invoked the gods envy. You presently knew little of what it took to be a monarch, and little of the kingdom’s law— which ultimately did not matter, for you’d fulfilled your duty in maintaining the Maximus name in distant lands. But it dawns on you that even in your immense cruelty— that even when the eyes of others flicker upward at you in fear, that they viewed you as nothing more than a FOOL. An heir apparent— whose untouchability is invoked in name alone. Perhaps they’d been right; perhaps you’d never develop a sharpest mind, nor harbored as many talents as your older half-sister. But this? This was your birthright. You would show everyone that you are one to be feared in your own right, that there were reasons to fear you outside of the bloodshed evoked by your very name.

CONNECTIONS.

LIRA DECIMUS. Wife. You knew and cared little about the complete circumstances surrounding your union. What you did know is that you were to marry some disgraced noble child from an unimportant lineage, a matter that ultimately mattered little when considering that no family truly existed that could rival the MAXIMUS power. If only you had some way of knowing the ultimate result of your merging cruelties. If only you’d known cruelty meant so much more when paired with cleverness and calculation. In nearly every argument you’ve had, she always manages to further ensnare you into the trap you now understood she must’ve set long before the day of your actual union. You knew no way of besting her, and in that way— she always held all the cards. It did not help that your loathing was never purely loathing— there’d always been other forces fused into the mix. You could not deny the divinity she commanded in her peak moments of calculated fury, nor could you deny that in these moments, you understood what true beauty was. A beauty only to be acquired when one is closest to godhood.

ALLEGRA MAXIMUS. Eldest sibling. You never fully understood her deal with you, for her inferior birthright had little to do with you in the grand scheme of things. What you did understand is that she was fated to eternal jealousy, and she would continue to act out in such ways to make it further known to everyone around her. It’s pathetic really, how she moves about the castle as if she wants it to burn, but continues with her duties all the same. Perhaps she would garner actual respect from you if she’d actual commit herself to some sort of action. In the meantime, you continue to look upon her as the annoying sibling you never wanted, one that served little purpose outside of being yet another person hoping to live vicariously through your crowning glory. She was far more intelligent than you’d ever be, but intelligence paled in comparison to the actual privileges that came with birthright. She doesn’t think you notice how she flounders like a fool in the presence of your father, still hopelessly searching for his fickle affections. If only she understood that he’d been incapable of actually caring for someone outside of himself.

FLORIN AMATA. Guard. He was not fond of you and never neglected to make it known, even in moments when he said little to nothing [which was what happened in the majority of the time you spend in each other’s presence.] That mattered little in the long run, for he’s proven to be more than adequate for the job of making sure your head remains on your shoulders. You’ve attempted to annoy him in subtle ways— never venturing too far, out of the unspoken fear you have of him. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t be rid of him, but the fact that the only real reasoning you would have for doing so would eventually be traced back to your perpetual cowardice. You would endure his continued presence, if only out of the sheer desire to not make a fool of yourself.

VALERIAN FURIA. Pseudo-parent. Your parents had only been your parents in a biological sense. From the moment of your birth, you were ushered around to different nannies and instructors, tasked with your care and wellbeing. Needless to say, your cruelty would cause a change in your guardianship more frequently than the palace staff preferred. You meet Valerian when it’s time for you to learn to take up the sword— and you discover almost immediately that they are unaffected by your ways. You don’t garner the desired reaction you wanted, and you eventually give up after several failed attempts. They manage to phase you with their unbreakable demeanor, so much so that you begin to feel something akin to respect and admiration for them. You will never be half the warrior they are in battle, but you’ve improved immensely since you’ve begun training with them. It is through your combat sessions that you get to closest you’ve ever gotten to sharing your feelings. They’ve showed you ways to channel your emotions into the sword— ways to shape it into something other than a formless, all consuming mass. They’re the closest thing you’ve ever had to a proper parent— something they could never know, otherwise you’d eventually find some reason to hate them for it.

OTHER.

STATUS: Available for applications

ALTERNATIVE FCS: Must be half white. Aron Piper, Mason Gooding, Jacob Elordi, Cristiano Palmerini

#zenobio #rp #fantasy rp #skeleton rp #o

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sheepwithspecs · 3 years ago

Text

Free Will

|| Fic Commission || Rated G ||

This is a fic commission for @im-fairly-whitty, who requested some scenes + dialogue for characters Tabrisel and Inaya. I enjoyed writing about them, they’re such fun characters (plus it’s not every day I get to write about a character that uses my pronouns)! I had a blast writing this and I hope that everyone enjoys reading it. Please go check out more of these characters on the masterpost on Wit’s blog, where you’ll find a lot of great art and other concepts!

Prophetism, as it turns out, is highly overrated.

Inaya Peterson couldn’t see the point of being named a prophet. In theory, being a clairvoyant sounded incredible. In practice, however… well, that was an entirely different story. The divine revelation that she’d been born with a special stamp of heavenly approval had done absolutely nothing to invariably alter the course of her life. There weren’t even any cool powers in the bargain! There was no mindreading, no exorcising demons, no direct hotline to deities. She couldn’t summon forth a raging tempest. She couldn’t bring down plagues upon her enemies. She couldn’t even see into the future.

It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course. Countless hours she’d spent pondering the inner workings of her oh-so-special soul, searching for the mental switch that, once flipped, would grant her access to a broad range of creepy, cool powers. Prophets, she had decided, should have been able to transform at will into an eldritch being of diving judgement, glowing eyes and all. If nothing else she should have been allowed to take a leaf from the Oracle of Delphi. In her mind’s eye she could see herself on a three legged stool, a mysterious figure shrouded in smoke and cloaked in shadow, breathing in the sacred incense as she foretold the fate of kings—

To tell truth, her life hadn’t really changed much at all. Teenage prophets still had to go to school. They still had to listen to their parents, eat balanced meals, and get their eight allotted hours of sleep. They weren’t immune to the general ennui of modern life. Her free time was filled with the same hobbies she’d always enjoyed: ice cream, walks in the park, skateboarding, video games.

For someone who’d been chosen, the universe didn’t seem to be in any rush when it came to kickstarting her Chosen One plotline.

What did a girl have to do in order to get some excitement out of life? She would have been grateful for an assassin or two, or perhaps a kidnapper who’d force her to misuse her nonexistence powers for evil. Well… perhaps grateful wasn’t the right word, but at least it might have shaken things up a notch. As it stood, the only addition to her agonizingly mundane existence was the “mandated” company of her guardian angel, Tabrisel.

Inaya didn’t understand why the divine powers that be thought it was necessary to give her the most boring guardian angel in existence. It had taken her no time at all to realize that angels were like cake fondant. On the surface they could be colorful and interesting, full of potential. After her first encounter with them, however, she knew that they were little more than a disappointment. At least, that’s what Tabrisel seemed to be.

Being a prophet meant that Inaya could see and talk to Tabrisel whenever she pleased—and often when she didn’t. She had plenty of adjectives to describe her guardian angel… none of which were very holy in nature. Tab, as she sometimes called them, was lazy, mouthy, boring, and infuriatingly obtuse. Their life’s joy—if angels indeed had lives in the mortal sense of the word—was to annoy their charge at every given opportunity.

Tabrisel seemed unable to speak without every last word practically dripping with the smoothest sarcasm. They were older than time itself, capable of feats she could only begin to imagine, and yet chose to act lamer than her parents. Their idea of a good time was to lounge idly on the sofa, sipping various drinks from a bottomless martini glass. Their favorite pastime was telling her no. Everything Inaya asked for was against the rules, forbidden by some unseen force that dictated every facet of an angel’s existence. It was always no, no, no with them; sometimes it felt worse than her fuzzy memories of toddlerhood.

No, you can’t drink from my glass.

No, I won’t fly you across town just this once.

No, I’m not telling you the future.

This last one was especially frustrating. Talking to Tabrisel was about as helpful as watching yesterday’s weather forecast. They refused to tell her anything about the future, no matter how insignificant the request. It didn’t make any sense. Prophets were supposed to decipher portents, which they could only get from messengers. Angels, as she understood them, were ethereal envoys of the divinity. Wasn’t it their job to deliver news and judgement from On High?

Clearly, Tabrisel had been absent for Celestial Ministering 101.

“Curiosity,” Tabrisel once touted, “is a blotch on the stainless soul of man.”

“How profound.” Inaya kicked a rock into the pond, watching the ripples as they spread towards the shimmering reflection of the towering office buildings opposite the park wall. The dawn sunlight was halfway through fading into the smoggy haze of midmorning, the vibrant pinks and grays dissolving into the precursor of another cloudless spring day. They seemed to shimmer on the water’s surface as the ripples smoothed back into a motionless mirror. “You know,” she couldn’t help but add, “it would be easier to say, “I don’t know” whenever I ask a question you don’t want to answer.”

“Yes,” Tab agreed smoothly, “but that would also be a lie.” They hadn’t bothered with their borzoi form, hands locked behind their back and eyes on the distant skyline as they followed their charge around the pond.

It was still early enough that the park was nearly deserted, with only a few people attempting to enjoy the sunny weather. A stray jogger headed towards the nature trail, headphones blasting at full volume as their sneakers pounded the pavement. The park custodian swept the sidewalk near the front gates, his red hat bobbing between the saplings that had been planted last season. Squirrels scampered about in the cultivated flowerbeds, kicking up mulch in their play. A fat bee buzzed in a rosebush, balancing carefully on the pink blooms as they nodded in the breeze.

With so few people about, no one bothered to look twice at a lone girl circling the park pond on her skateboard. Still, Inaya didn’t raise her voice above a murmur; even though she wasn’t alone, anyone who saw her would think that she had been talking out loud to herself. If someone from her neighborhood were to see and tell either of her moms…. The last thing she needed was her parents asking awkward questions that came with no real answers.

The most prudent option would be to stay silent, perhaps even go so far as to ignore the angel following calmly behind her on foot. But her mind was awhirl with thoughts, questions stirring around and around until it was impossible to keep her peace.

“Why are humans curious?” she couldn’t help but ask, knowing full well that this only proved their point concerning mankind’s inquisitive nature. She kicked off against the sidewalk, picking up speed as her board crested the highest point of the circular path. “If it causes so many problems, shouldn’t we be born without it?” Inaya half expected Tabrisel to ignore the question, or perhaps to grace her with one of their painstaking smiles. To her surprise, they didn’t hesitate to offer an answer.

“It would be less work for us in the end,” they agreed slowly. “Still, it’s curiosity that separates you from the lesser carnivora,” they explained. Inaya looked over her shoulder to see them staring up at the clouds, a serene expression smoothing the thin cheekbones and manicured brow. She wondered if they considered themselves something of a poet, using words like carnivora and stainless soul. She hoped not; as exasperating as it was to try and hold a conversation with someone as smug and evasive as Tabrisel, it was worse when they started LARP-ing as Keats, or Tennyson, or… or any of the other poetic old men who no longer existed. “It is what gives you free will.”

“Free will?” Inaya skidded to a stop, turning on her board to watch with narrowed eyes as they sauntered along behind her. “What do you mean?” Tabrisel tilted their head, their gaze drifting from her face to the denizens of the park, both big and small.

“Look over there, at the bee in the roses,” they said, nodding to the rosebush nearest her. “That bee has absolutely no free will whatsoever. She goes out to collect pollen, she does her part to make honey, she feeds the young in their cells and she helps to take care of the colony. All this she does without a single ounce of thought. Her instincts guide her, rather than any curiosity of the world around her.”

“Well… yeah.” Inaya shrugged. “That’s what bees do, isn’t it?”

“Precisely. Now, what is it that humans do?” Tabrisel asked lightly. “What made you get up this morning and decide to skate around the park? What made you want to try skateboarding at all? Was it instinct? Did you see the skateboard and realize that your genes were made for that specific purpose?”

“No, I just….” Inaya looked down at the skateboard beneath her sneaker. “I just decided to, one day.” Tabrisel’s brow twitched, the start of a sardonic grin curling at the edges of their mouth. Inaya knew that they were waiting for more, but what more was there to say? She couldn’t pinpoint any specific emotion that had made her pick up a board for the first time. “I thought it looked cool,” she finally supplied, rolling her shoulders in another shrug before pushing off down the hill.

“You thought it looked cool,” Tabrisel repeated softly. “No, you were curious. You saw your first trick and wanted to know what it was like to fly through the air with nothing but a board beneath your feet. You wanted to feel the wind in your ears and the blood rushing through your veins. You wanted to know what it was like to be entirely self-sufficient upon your own talent—if you messed up, there would be no one else to blame.”

Inaya rolled her eyes as she moved faster, hoping said wind would drown out the sound of their voice. She hated when they lectured like that, using her own thoughts and emotions against her. Thankfully it was a rare occurrence, and only ever used when they needed to prove some point. Unfortunately for her, their voice continued to ring in their head as loudly as if they had stood next to her on the board.

“The indominable spirit of mankind!” they joked. “Never once did you consider what might go wrong.” As if by design, Inaya winced as one of her board’s wheels jammed against a crack in the walk. Thankfully she hadn’t picked up enough speed to wipe entirely; if she had, she would have faceplanted straight into the concrete without a word. Instead she managed a sort of stumbling run into the grass, falling onto her hands and knees.

“You better not have done that on purpose,” she scowled, wiping at fresh grass stains on the palms of her wrist guards.

“As a guardian angel, I believe that intentionally causing a skateboard accident would fall under the category of “not guarding”. Besides: for all you know, I just ensured you didn’t break anything worse than your fall. Scraped skin,” they sighed, “broken bones, sprains and strains… even a pulled muscle or two. And that’s only if you humans don’t break your necks on the way down.”

Inaya could have sworn Tabrisel was still on the other side of the park, but before she could move her head a strong arm grabbed her by the elbow. It lifted her gently until she was back on her feet, steadying her until she got her balance. Tabrisel reached past her for the skateboard, popping it expertly into their hands before looking it over appraisingly.

“Not to mention the material costs and hurt pride of taking a tumble every so often,” they mused, spinning the jammed wheel to make sure that it was fine before handing the board back to her. “No, that’s the sort of thing I’m left to think about instead.”

“Well, yeah.” Inaya took the board from their hands, spinning the wheel herself before testing it on the sidewalk. “Like you said, you’re a guardian angel. That’s kind of your job, isn’t it?” Tabrisel smiled indulgently, hands once more clasped behind their back. Inaya sniffed, scrubbing her palms against her thighs for good measure and leaving a green streak along the edge of her jeans pocket.

“You signed up for it,” she grumbled as she started off again, kicking hard against the cement until she was practically flying down the hill. “Unless angels don’t have free will, either.”

The thought startled her. She nearly wiped again, regaining her balance at the last moment with arms outstretched and knees shaking. Gulping, she glanced behind her to see Tabrisel still waiting on the park sod, leaned up against an oak that stood sentinel near the crest of the hill. Their golden eyes followed, unwavering, as she continued her ride around the far side of the pond. She looked away, a small chill creeping down her spine as she focused on not hitting any more cracks in the paved walk.

Could angels choose for themselves? Or… or was Tabrisel just as stuck with her as she was with them? If that was the case, did they secretly resent it? Resent her? Or were they incapable of feeling that resentment, seeing it instead as another part of their enigmatic nature? Did she feel injustice simply because she was human, and they were not? Was it truly that simple?

Inaya pondered over the thoughts for the rest of her morning ride, but an answer never came.

Come on, Inaya! Concentrate… focus….

“Just what on earth do you think you’re doing?” Inaya cracked one eyelid, glaring up at the angel who dared to break her (admittedly subpar) concentration. Tabrisel loomed over her work desk, a bemused expression on their face. They swirled the contents of their martini glass, free hand resting on their hip as they watched her.

“What does it look like?” she snapped, fingers prodding at the loose dark hairs around her temples. “I’m trying to see into the future.” All at once, she realized that she probably looked ridiculous in her current position—slouched over her schoolwork, fingers pressed to her temples and eyes screwed so tightly shut that the rest of her faced was scrunched with the effort.

“It looks like the only thing you’re trying to do is give yourself a migraine, kid.” Tabrisel chucked, shoulders shaking hard enough that a drop of golden liquid splashed from the martini glass. It landed on the edge of her desk, sparkling with a pearly, iridescent sheen. The hue was at once so brilliant and fluid that it seemed to encompass a miniscule dot of Heaven within its perfectly spherical shape.

Inaya watched, tightlipped and dry mouthed, as the bead quivered on her desk with every step Tabrisel took across the bedroom floor. Her throat burned with something beyond mortal thirst, but she knew better than to ask for a taste. She had learned her lesson the hard way, last time; her head still ached with phantom pain whenever she remembered her less than stellar experience with Tabrisel’s bottle of Long Island War Crimes.

Who cares? She grumbled to herself, choosing to forgo the temptation by flicking the bead to the carpet. It looks like spilled motor oil, anyway. Still, it was hard to ignore the pang in the pit of her stomach as she watched the wayward drop soak into the plush fibers.

“I’ll probably regret it, but….” Tabrisel leaned over her shoulder, surveying the mess of her homework spread across the desk. “Dare I ask what you’re doing? Scrying the future won’t help you learn test answers, if that’s what you’re after.”

“I’m not cheating!” Inaya shuffled through her papers, pushing aside her math homework before her fingers found the edge of a crumpled yellow flyer. “Take a look at this, Tab.” She tried to smooth the flyer before handing it over to them, scowling at the glossy embossed letters on the header.

“Career Aptitude Assessment.” Tabrisel turned it over, brows arching as they read the fine print with an increasingly wan expression. By the time they were finished, their brows had nearly disappeared into the bangs hanging across their forehead. “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain a little better than this. I’m not sure I understand.”

“They handed these out to us during morning assembly.” Inaya took the paper back with a sigh, tossing it to the side before running her hands through her hair. “It really got me to thinking, you know?”

“Sorry, but I still don’t see how a career placement test makes you think you need to see the future,” they said mildly, stirring the contents of their glass before taking the smallest of sips. “Besides, aren’t you a little young to be deciding the rest of your life? You’re not even thirty yet.”

“That’s it exactly!” she exclaimed. “I know they don’t know this at school, but everything’s already been decided for me, hasn’t it? I’m a prophet. When I’m an adult, I’m going to be busy… propheting, or whatever you call it—”

“Prophesying—”

“Whatever. The point is that I’ll be too busy with propheting—okay, okay! Prophesying— to worry about my job or… or anything else, right?” She looked back down at the flyer. “Why should I care about choosing a career? I don’t see what’s so important about it. I mean, what if I got my results back and I really liked it? What if I decided to go to college, or an accredited university or something? What if I traveled abroad?” she rambled, pacing circles around her guardian angel as she spoke.

“What if?” they agreed.

“College takes time, Tab. I can be there for four years, or eight, or however long it takes. Then, when I’m done, I’ll have a career that I enjoy. I’ll have one of those jobs that I get excited about every morning, one that I can see myself being happy in until I retire, and then what? I go through all that just so that one day, the higher-ups or… or God or… or whoever it is that decides these things is going to show up and say, “Good job! Too bad it’s time to be a prophet now!” How do you think that makes me feel? I’ll have to quit everything I worked for!”

“Uh huh.” Tabrisel took another drink, this one longer than the first. They paused, tongue working in their cheek, before adding, “That’s not exactly how it works, I’m afraid.”

“Well how am I supposed to know how it works?” Inaya crossed her arms. “You never tell me how it works. You never tell me anything.” Her only reply was a less than subtle eye roll. “I don’t want to invest all my time into something I won’t even be able to enjoy later. That’s why I need to see the future, okay? I want to know what job I end up with, to see if it’s even worth the trouble of making an effort. I want to be the one to decide my life for once.”

“You know,” Tabrisel mused skeptically, “If you ask me, you’re trying to solve a problem by creating the same one over again.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you.” Inaya sat back down, her back to them as she rested her elbows on the desk and closed her eyes once more. There was a long period of relative silence, where she felt, more than saw, their eyes boring into the back of her skull. She waited for them to speak, to lecture her on how she was doing something wrong yet again, only to grow increasingly frustrated when they didn’t. “Okay, fine, fine. Say that I did ask you. What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” They chuckled again. “I’d told you as much earlier. You humans worry too much about the future. The whole reason you’re upset is because your teachers are trying to prepare you for a future that—just like every other human on the face of the planet—you can’t see. That worries you, so instead of finishing your homework and turning on your video games, you sit there making faces at the wall while trying to achieve the impossible. Am I right?”

“Ugh.” She slumped down in her chair. Why did they have to make irrefutable points? Even she couldn’t argue with the truth. “You don’t have to rub it in like that, you know.”

“You know, if you stopped bothering yourself with things you can’t control, life would be all the simpler.” Tabrisel sat the glass on the edge of her desk, squatting down until they were eye to eye. They looked more like a terrible motivational coach, or some happy-go-lucky camp counselor, rather than the haggard guardian angel she knew them to be.

“You can’t solve every problem you encounter, no matter how much you’d like to. Why not place your burdens to the side and live in the moment instead? I know people like to see you as a young adult, but in the grand scheme of things you’re still a kid. Why not relax? Enjoy life as it happens? Otherwise, it’s going to pass you by.”

“Because,” she growled, “I have a daily reminder that Heaven is nothing more than a bunch of badly… managed… bureaucrats.” She wasn’t entirely sure that bureaucrats was the word she was looking for, but it did match her mental image of Heaven Tabrisel made whenever they idly mentioned paperwork. She could see a bunch of angels in funny little business togas, sitting in golden cubicles on top of fluffy clouds, with the same mailbox cubbies that she saw in modern office buildings.

Tabrisel stared at her a moment, expression blank before they broke into helpless peals of laughter. She huffed, pillowing her cheek on one fist as she watched them tumble backwards to sit on her bedroom floor, long limbs spread and body limp with the exertion of laughing.

“I should put in a complaint with HR,” she finally grumbled.

“There is no HR in Heaven,” they gloated, wiping their eyes as they tried to pick themselves off the floor. “Humans are an earthly term. Why would we need their resources?”

“Then I’ll go to your boss!” she threatened. “I want to talk to your direct supervisor!”

“Hmm?” It was her only answer, offered alongside one of their smuggest little smirks.

“But seriously, Tab.” Inaya tore the corners off the flyer, shredding the yellow paper into little pieces of fuzz before letting them flutter to the carpet. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” They picked their glass back up, draining it to the dregs before stretching out on her duvet. “Take the test, maybe?”

“But it’s just going to be a waste of time!”

“Says who?” They closed their eyes, one leg crossed over the other. “Say you did take the test, and you found something you were good at, that you enjoyed. Say that you did go to university, or traveled abroad. And then you had a career that you were fond of afterwards. If you enjoyed yourself, made good memories, and lived your life to the fullest… why would you ever call that a waste?”

“Huh?”

“You act as if this world is static, Inaya. That nothing worthwhile ever comes of change.”

“But… well….”

“This life is ever-changing. Think about it. Places change. People change. Your mothers are the not the women they were at your age. Some people are happy to stay at one job for sixty years. Others do the same and die with regrets in their heart. There are circumstances, setbacks. No one person on this earth knows what their life will hold, and yet every last one has managed to make things work.”

“Even prophets?”

“Even prophets. You can’t hinge every last decision on the future when it’s not set in stone. After all, you’ll change one day, too.”

“I know who I am,” Inaya protested. “No matter how old I get, I’m still going to be me. I’m still…”

“You’re right.” They opened their eyes, staring deep into her own. “You will always be you. So take my advice and stop worrying about the future. Worry about the present instead. Make the Inaya of right now someone who can face the future, no matter what it holds. For it will change, and you need to be adaptable enough to change with it.” They smiled. “Change is not bad. It gives us hope by becoming. Enemies become friends. The impossible becomes possible.”

“But—” They waited patiently for her argument. “But it can work the other way, too.”

“Yes. It can.”

“So how are you supposed to know whether the change is something good or bad?”

“You can’t,” they replied simply. “That decision rests with you.”

“It’s that stupid free will thing again, isn’t it?” Inaya groaned. Tabrisel, on the other hand, smiled softly.

“One of the greatest gifts to man.”

#my writing #commission #OCs #Tabrisel #Inaya #im-fairly-whitty

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