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morgana-ren · 4 months

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I wanted the full analysis!!! 🙏 Also I can't become a goddess </3 sadness

You wouldn't want to, babe. Sounds like fun, but Godhood is-- well, it's not great in DnD. It attracts exactly who you think it would: The naive, or the power-hungry and unworthy.

Well, let's look at Gale and his ultimate motivations:

When you meet him, he's straight-forward although fully polite, charismatic, and very much a 'wizard' archetype, as in noticeably and actively intelligent but in a strangely awkward way. Charming, talkative, but earnest. As you get to know him, you learn more about his plight and his struggles, his prodigal upbringing, his dalliances with Mystra, his fall from grace, and his inevitable charge with 'ending' this little uprising by the upstart Dead Three-- and ending his own life in the process.

Most people, you would think, would have an ounce of self-preservation upon being told "Hey, you need to kill yourself to end this." Even the rest of the group, up against ridiculous odds, are holding on to the glimmer of hope that they can survive.

Not Gale. Gale just basically goes "Okay. So be it." While he does mourn in a way, he mourns more over his initial mistake than he does the loss of his own life. He thinks of all he did wrong, all the 'pain' he caused. the loss he caused himself, and his rejection at Mystra's hands for which he entirely blames himself.

Gale is a victim of grooming. It is framed in a strange way, since the one doing the grooming is a Goddess, but he is absolutely a victim. He tells you that Mystra has been with him since he was a boy, which yes, you can frame as he is a wizard and she is essentially magic incarnate, but it doesn't stop there. She doesn't encourage him as a pupil-- she takes him as a lover. As a conduit of her own power. Carnally.

She takes him into her bed, and as a lover.

Had Mystra been just an elderly powerful witch, this would have been way more fucking obvious to people. But because she is a God and her whims are unknowable, it's essentially shrugged off-- which I feel like is part of his arc.

Gale did what he did because he was on completely fucking uneven tier with his own lover. The power dynamic was abusive. He could not be on her level and she expected him to be fine with that. She demanded excellence but when he delivered, she spurned him. He was expected to be brilliant and perfect-- but not too much. And when he was perfect? He still could never be enough. She is a goddess and he is expected to bow and scrape. She groomed him to admire and revere and worship her, and then told him to sit down and be happy with what little he was given.

He needed to prove himself her equal. He needed her approval. He needed it because it was a relationship to him, and one he physically could not win at.

Gale is a human. He needs love and connection and fairness. Mystra, by her own nature, cannot give this-- and she doesn't want to.

Gale knows well the callousness of the Gods. Not just with Mystra, but from his tower, he can see injustice and pain and misery. He is extremely empathetic and cares so deeply. His eldest companion, the Tressym Tara, was an accidental summon that stayed with him for life and became intrinsically involved with his family. He knows love. He knows pain. He is a good man.

Gale seeks knowledge, though he does not seek it for power. He seeks it out of genuine and earnest desire to help. To make people's lives better. Yes, he seeks to be seen as intelligent and brilliant because he is, but he is not a selfish being.

For 'good' players, he is one of the easiest approvals to get, because he very much approves of just being a good person. Helping. Being kind and lending a hand. Saving lives. Using your strength and power for good.

But again, Gale is human. And the folly of the clever man is to believe everyone around him is a fool. He, in all his brilliance, found a way he thought he could help. A path that has been tread time and time again with naught but the misery and bewailings of those who came before to show for it as a warning. But he thought he was different. He thought he could pull it off.

He could become a God.

Secretly, he found a way to put himself on even tier with Mystra-- and do what she did not have the compassion, kindness, or even desire to do. To use Godhood for good. To use all that magnificent power to achieve goodness rather than greatness. To be an active God in the lives of mortal men. To make the world better.

He thought that he could maintain his connection with humanity through his apotheosis and ultimately exist with one foot in each world; To straddle mortality and immortality and put reins on them both.

You are warned repeatedly throughout the game that this is bad. That many have tried and all have failed. Humans are not meant to be gods, and you cannot exist as a hybrid. If you are a God, you are a god. If you are a man, you are mortal. The mortal mind cannot tether Godhood. It is not possible. Best case scenario, you lose yourself. Worst case? You are punished eternally for your hubris.

To be a God is to be unknowable. To see the threads of time and the futility of it all. You are ripped from your conscious mind as a man and you can no longer relate. Lives and suffering, they are all fleeting, miniscule things from your mountain on high. All men must die; why is tonight different from any other night? Why is your suffering so great that a god should take interest? What are you to me, little mortal? Your kingdoms shall fall and burn and crumble and be rebuilt and crumble again but my temple shall remain, and when you are but dust in the fickle wind, you too shall know my eternal glory.

The way Mystra looked at Gale.

An instrument. A tool. A temporary amusement and benefactor. He is a mere man and she is a Goddess and when his bones bleach in Selune's unforgiving sun, she shall choose a new apprentice to take unto her bed. And so the wheel of time spins endlessly on.

A large theme of the game is the malevolence of some Gods and the utter indifference of others.

Selune's perceived abandonment of Ketheric that led to his downfall and madness. He lost his wife and daughter after an entire life of servitude, and he did not even receive comfort in return. She is considered a good natured Goddess, and even she is cruel in her neglect and indifference when it does not suit her.

Shar and her utter disregard and even active disdain for her most devout-- and everything else. Viconia, who committed her life to Shar, cast aside for a Selunite orphan on a whim. Her hatred of living creatures and her manipulations. Her outright malevolence and reverence for their suffering. You see her cruelty both from an outside and inside perspective, and her circular doctrine that makes no sense, her faith that demands all and gives nothing in return.

The Gods that are active are only so malevolently. Bane devouring Gortash after his defeat despite how far he'd gotten in his name. Myrkul abandoning Ketheric as well in the end. Bhaal discarding his own children when the do not suit his whims.

"We are but bronze pieces in their pocket to be traded on a whim. You may have beaten me, but the truth is, the Gods beat me first."

It is literally a thematic constant.

Sure, they can do good. They have devout worshipers and can be seen doing some level of good-- Isabelle and her protection of the Last Light, for example. But it's never quite them, is it? It is the humans that utilize their power. The humans who care. Selune did not protect them of her own volition. Her magic was invoked.

Gale's goal was to become both. To have the power and will of a God but the consciousness and mind of a man.

Mark my words, you would go mad.

Gods see eons. The endless tide of eternity drifting endlessly on. Imagine the incessant screams. The pleading. The misery. The death. The horror at the hands of man and your fellow Gods. Even all of your power, all of your prestige could not save them all.

And even if you could-- even if you could-- Ao demands a level of indifference. It is one of the fundamental rules.

Gale must accept this, or he will become that which he sought to rectify. He must learn that to love and care so deeply is to be mortal. That to retain all that made him beautiful and wonderful, he must be humbled and rather do as he can rather than all he feels capable of. He must seek Mystra's forgiveness (disgusting) on a symbolic level and accept that he is a mortal and his hubris would be his downfall. Gods and mortals should not mix.

But if he does not? If he utilizes the Crown of Karsis?

He becomes a god. He gets his wish. And in true Faustian fashion, the price he pays makes the prize worthless.

He becomes an arrogant, disconnected, detached, miserable pile of sectorless divinity.

He becomes callous. Cruel. When asked about all those people he longed to save, he shrugs. He no longer speaks of the mortal realm, he speaks of the beauty and frivolity of Elysium. Of the wonders of Godhood and all he understands-- or has forgotten. He has completely detatched from mortality and only deigns to come down from his fucking halcyon world to bless you-- his former friends-- with his magnanimous presence. To let you know how lucky you are. How blessed.

All that power he has? Useless. Used to prop himself on a pedestal same as every other filthy fucking God.

His deepest, most treasured friend will tell him this, and how does he respond? By basically telling her 'You don't know shit.' He ignores her. Threatens you if you try. A man who was willing to give his life selflessly to save the world will now threaten divine wrath if you even so much as irritate him. He will swing that hammer of power down just to prove a fucking point.

If you loved him and refuse him? Utterly disconnected. No genuine feeling. Just looking down on you like the silly little human you are. When you refuse him, he is disconnected from who he was and what he ever felt for you. Gale, a man who was groomed and just wanted love on an equal playing field; a man desperately lonely in his brilliance; a man so distraught by what he felt that he sought to break the barrier and become a god, not for power, but for benevolence-- he becomes Mystra.

He is no longer Gale. He is the God of Ambition. Another useless god in a pantheon of useless ideas. What good is ambition if it does not serve a purpose? To make him the god of ambition is to spit in his face, because what was his ambition? Where is it now, Gale? What are you?

What is your ambition and where the fuck is it now?

Gale is a kind, caring, compassionate man who went through a horrible, traumatic event that changed who he was fundamentally. Dumped and abandoned by his Goddess, it burned him. It hurt him in such a way that he made it his goal to change this dynamic and to become what she could not.

He was still in love with her. Of course he was. How it must be to love something that you know can never love you back. That you are one of many, and your time is over. You have served your purpose. And if you die, you die. If the realm dies, so be it.

Gale's is a story of hubris born of love. A man gifted with intelligence and power that he only wanted to utilize for the best; to do what he thought was right. He wasn't clawing after the crown for raw power's sake. He wanted to help. That's all he ever wanted.

The bookworm that will talk your ear off about his cat and his studies and his love of books. A man so brilliant that it's painful at times. A man who loved his mother and his cat. A man who loved a goddess and, in a story that could have no happy ending, decided to give everything to make it so. If it meant dying, then so be it. He wasn't clawing for the crown to save his own life. He was doing it to save everyone else's.

He fundamentally misunderstood the nature of the Gods. He touched divinity and it looked at him with a human countenance and so he believed he could grasp it.

The Gods are powerful, and yes, they are unknowable and, in a way, infinite-- but they are callous and cruel and indifferent. They are power with no outlet. Useless. They gaze upon humanity like rats in a cage, uncaring and unfeeling. Separated entirely. Sometimes they deign to make their presence known. But mostly? They sit on their heavenly thrones and revel in their own brand of bullshit.

This is what Gale will become. It is an insult to an incredible man to take away all that made him incredible and make him another b-lister jumpstart God up his own ass. Caring and love are work. They are pain. It is suffering and agony. But that is what separates us from them. We do not, and in some cases, cannot separate. It is our world, and we live in it. We must breathe in the poisons. Smell the blood that soils the earth. It is our world and we cannot separate. We love and we help and we learn--

Gale wanted to help. So he became a God.

But what do Gods do?

They watch. Through the gray window of indifference, they watch. They watch us tear each other open. They watch other Gods tear us open. They watch the wounds. They watch the graves. They watch the fires rage.

They watch and they listen to the screams. And when they are bored of them? They shut them out.

Gale became a god.

And so too shall he watch, removed from it all.

Not an ounce of humanity left in a man that ached so for humanity itself that it damn near drove him mad.

#morgana and friends #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #I have an interesting relationship with the gods #I prefer the evil ones because at least they do not PRETEND #Bane does not PRETEND to give a damn

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 months

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Omgggggg Hiiii

Can I request a One Piece Whitebeard x Wife!Reader.

Like since Whitebeard Is known as Pops by his Crew the Reader could be known as 'Mom' or 'Mama'. And let's do like the Timeline like when Ace was first brought on the Ship. And since Whitebeard is like 21 feet tall, make the Reader like 20 feet tall.

Like, who doesn't love a Giant Woman who can kill you and step on you???

-The Whitebeard Crew was full of strong warriors, gathered from all corners of the ocean, each one with special skills and talents, some with Devil Fruit abilities, and some with just natural talent.

-There was definitely a hierarchy in his crew, with the different commanders each watching over a different squadron in the crew, with Whitebeard on top, or that’s what everyone says, but the truth is there is one person higher than Pops- you!

-You were his darling wife, having married him many years ago, after the two of you both left the Rock Pirates. You were a vision to Pops, standing at eighteen feet, hot as lava, and you could kick his ass and anyone who opposed you- you were the perfect catch!

-So, as you traveled, building your own crews, building your family with all the sons Edward had adopted, you enjoyed your new position on the crew as Mama!

-Everyone called you Mama, and everyone respected you, and if you were disrespected by anyone- it was like a declaration of war.

-You thought it was rather cute, seeing all those young ones so protective of you, but it was even cuter to see Edward leading the charge, despite all of them knowing full well that you could easily handle yourself. You didn’t earn your obnoxiously high bounty just sitting around, looking cute, and baking cookies!

-Here recently, there had been a young man doing his best to attack your husband, wanting to join the crew, and normally your husband accepted most anyone onto the crew, but not Ace.

-You inquired about this, kissing your husband on his forehead, as he was sitting, drinking some ale and he just grinned, “I want to see his drive- I need to see if he can handle this.”

-Many grew used to Ace’s antics, showing up on the ship, demanding Whitebeard to fight him, only to get knocked down. A few, like Marco, were sympathetic, as he knew what Edward was doing.

-You approached Ace this time, after his defeat, bringing over a plate of seafood fried rice while he was pouting again, but grateful he hadn’t been thrown overboard again.

-Ace heard the footsteps before you spoke, “Ace?” he instantly froze, hearing that it was you, but he didn’t turn around, at least immediately as you set the plate down before taking a seat next to him, the two of you sitting on the whale figurehead together.

-You could see that Ace was a good person, a little headstrong, but he was a good person. You lifted a hand to his head and ruffled his hair gently. You felt the small flinch, which you could tell that it wasn’t out of fear- more of surprise, but he did nothing, letting you dote quietly on him.

-You saw him pick up the plate and started to eat, which made you smile before you spoke, giving him some words of encouragement, “Edward is a lot like you- stubborn and headstrong. He wants you to prove that you’re not just some upstart hothead. You’ve got this Ace.”

-You remained silent as he sniffled softly, crying into his food before he gave a small nod, you were so comforting, so warm- just like a mother.

-And when Ace finally did prove himself to your husband, you cheered with everyone else, happy to see that he finally earned Pops’ approval, which of course led to a huge party.

-You curled up on your husband’s lap, pressing your lips against his cheek which made him grin softly, “You encouraged him, didn’t you?”

-You just gave him a grin, “I just told him that he was like you- stubborn.” He laughed loudly which made you grin as you turned to look out, seeing everyone celebrating.

-You weren’t going to change anything for the world.

#one piece #whitebeard #portgas d ace

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mollysunder · 7 months

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On Silco and Molatovs

I still think about how the creators of Arcane wanted the opening scene to be a young Silco throwing a molotov cocktail during the Day of Ash on the bridge. It's supposed to be implied that Silco's actions were the trigger for why that day escalated to such violence and death. But honestly, all it does is vindicate the success of Silco's leadership in Zaun.

Most of the problems Silco faces in Act 2 & 3 are practically the same challenges Vander faced, but worse. His kid blew up a building and intentionally murdered people while doing it. The operation he had his kid go on got interrupted by a rival gang of young people with the objective literally up in flames. Piltover's putting (economic) pressure on Zaun to find the culprit on the Progress Day attack. Silco also has to put up with upstarts attempting to undermine his leadership position as tensions starts to mount. In spite of all the pressures Silco faced, he was able to manuever around them all a lot better than Vander did.

Let's take Jinx's hexgem heist for the first example. One building robbed and vandalized, another building set on fire and bombed, and six enforcers killed. Yet the only enforcer that was in Zaun for that escapade was Marcus, because Marcus couldn't treat Silco like Grayson treated Vander.

When the kids accidentally blew up the Kiramman building during their heist, no one died, but enforcers were flooded into Zaun, because Grayson saw it in her capacity to do that. Even when Grayson goes to calmly speak with Vander, she's still flanked by aggressive underlings who consistently escalate tensions. Grayson, as the Sheriff Vander trusts, either can't control the enforcers in her charge or is incredibly lax with how they operate, and that's because Grayson had no incentive to be genuinely effective.

Grayson and Vander operated on knowledge where both assumed Piltover's forces had the upperhand on Zaun and could demolish them. No matter how cordial Vander and Grayson were to eachother, Grayson held the cards in that dynamic. There was nothing Vander could do if Grayson just changed her mind about keeping enforcers out of Zaun. Grayson just believed it was for the good of both cities to avoid further bloodshed (that Zaun risked) by delegating responsibility of Zaun to Vander. They manage to work together essentially through Grayson's grace, rather than Vander's own legitimacy as a leader.

Marcus however, must actually attempt restraint because both he and Silco have actual stakes in their relationship. So Marcus enters Zaun ALONE to figure out a solution with it's defacto leader, Marcus is just upset about it the whole time. Frankly that's why I think Jinx intentionally caused as much loud and obvious damage because she KNEW she would get away with it, she still kind of has (she isn't in Stillwater). Jinx has been with Silco for at least seven years, she knows he's got Marcus in bind that's only getting tighter, and knows Silco won't hesitate to throw someone (the Firelights) under the bus for it, unlike Vander.

And even when passage through the bridge is shut down and Zaunites are out in anger protesting, no one dies. Some Zaunite there literally threw a molotov cocktail at the enforcer line and yet violence on the scale of the Day of Ash didn't transpire, because Silco put them, specifically Marcus, in a position where the had to be restraint. In every aspect of Vander's leadership that's about real material gain, Silco has managed to succeed where he failed. Practically every act of aggression at Piltover under Silco's regime never saw the same level of retribution that Vander's did. Sevika chose Silco over Vander because she believed he truly was a more effective leader, and she was right! In the end, she didn't betray Silco because he easily outpaced all the other contenders.

Tldr: Whenever the writers bring up Silco's faults, sometimes it just makes him look better than his counterparts in terms of skill and effectiveness. Silco managed to get Zaun treated like a separate nation faster than Vander could have dreamed.

#arcane silco #arcane #silco #jinx arcane #vander arcane #grayson arcane #arcane meta #zaun #i feel like a lot of people based their opinions on silco and vander as leaders based on vibes alone #like some argue vander was more community oriented #and I'm like... based on what #we saw his gang operate at his base of operation which is the The Last Drop

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starlightshadowsworld · 8 months

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I love Percy and Annabeth but they should not have been in Heroes of Olympus.

Because they overshadow everyone else.

People even say they skipped other characters povs just to read there's.

I love them but I think they shouldn't have been as prominently apart of the story.

Because yeah I love them but I've had 5 books of these guys, I'd really like to know the rest of the seven.

Hell Jason's birthday is the day they fall into Tartarus soo...tell me they aren't overshadowed..

Jason's our main character and he constantly gets pushed aside and is not written well and constantly compared to as being Percy's lesser version.

Which isn't fair.

And he's not given a chance to change that.

He's not allowed to exist outside of Percy because of course he isn't.

Percy's right there.

Also give them a break.

They just fought a war.

Personally would love if the lost hero started with a snap shot of the battle of Manhatten and zoomed out to the Roman part of the fight.

Jason leading the charge and just "Yeah.. That's me, your probably wondering how I got here."

And takes us all the way back to a mysterious woman giving Jason up and the wolves coming for him.

With us learning from kid Thalia demanding to know where Jason is that this Jason is her Jason.

Jason Grace.

We see the wolf house we watch Jason try to survive and absolutely break our hearts hearing someone so young think he's so alone and no one loves him.

Lupa becoming more motherly to him but that fear Jason has always remains that she will turn on him one day.

Jason wandering the streets to Camp Jupiter.

Jason's situation bring the reverse of Percy's.

Being out casted immediately and than put on a pedestal once he's claimed.

Jason immediately hating it.

Jason being pushed into this good soilder narrative but he doesn't fit it at all.

His upbringing has left him wild, less bothered with proper fighting techniques and more on survival.

He fights to kill.

He fights to live.

And no one else gets that.

Except one camper, Octavian, who's older than Jason abd the Augur.

Everyone after reading the Pjo series seeing Octavian...I got my eye on you Mr.

Who insults the elders and is the first to get Jason to laugh.

And encourages Jason to stand up for what he believes in.

Giving Jason the courage to deny his place in the 1st cohort and join the 5th.

This

Pisses everyone off.

Mostly the 1st.

Who are downright offended because you don't turn down the first cohort.

And Jason's like, but I just did.

The 5th have no idea what to make of Jason but in time they become friendly.

Dakota becoming a friend to him.

Jason knows this because he shares his kool aid with him sometimes.

He does get in trouble for squaring off with and scaring off some bullies of the upper cohorts.

Because Jason hates bullies and he recognises the kid, Frank being picked on.

Apparently they stole his stick and while Jason has no idea it's importance, it made Frank sad soo he goes after them.

Ends up on probatio and friends with Frank.

Who admires Jason's bravery and wishes he could be too.

So the rest of the leigion kinda miffed some 5th upstart is embarrassing them.

And so when the next quest is given its to him.

Quests are different here to Camp Half-blood.

Since they don't have a true oracle, specifics are never mentioned.

Leaving the leigion to give the prophecy to whoever they want.

And they want to knock Jason down a few pegs and so they send him.

Jason picking Frank and Dakota.

Neither of the two are hopeful because the day a 5th is sent on a quest is the day their funeral is held.

Not the case though and they do in fact succeed and do it well.

Frank even opening up about his stick and showing that he is as brave and courageous as he wants to be.

It's through that act of bravery Frank is claimed as a son of Mars.

And though he's not exactly sure he should be one, Jason and Dakota both tell him it suites him well.

They both even do the "all hail Frank Zhang, Son of Mars" speech.

Which makes him smile.

On the way back though they do find Reyna.

Jason gets the short straw and has to do the oh the Roman God's are real but she knows and that she's a daughter of Bellona.

And they all head back to camp together.

And while Reyna has her guard up she does genuinely seem to enjoy her company with the others.

She's also the only other person to truly understand how Jason fights and his instinct to survive.

Though she doesn't share why.

Octavian greets them, proud and Reyna is on probatio until they can see what cohort she fits into.

Though she remarks after seeing the egos of the 1st that the 5th might be better afterall.

Celebrations are held and Jason wonders if the quest is really over.

Also all or us wondering if Octavian was genuine about what he said to Jason to follow his dreams.

Or if he did it to take Jason's place in the 1st.

Can't tell me after Luke anyone of you guys wouldn't be mad suss of an older blonde boy befriending Jason.

Fool me once.

Shame on you.

Fool me twice...

Damn...

Also reading the series prior and than this means everyone agrees with Jason.

Like we saw Percy fight for his life over and over and are just like... Oh you bitches gonna have a rude awakening when you face real monsters 💅🏽.

I have no idea what the quest would be but I'd want them to all line up to the next big prophecy.

Instead of it coming out of nowhere.

Hazel does come around but later on because of the doors and with her so does Nico.

#jason grace #heroes of olympus #This was supposed to be short smh #Dakota pjo #reyna avila ramirez arellano #octavian pjo #frank zhang #The lost hero #percy jackson #annabeth chase

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starcurtain · 8 months

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Another Haikaveh Fanfic I Want to Read

The Deshret reincarnation one, but the twist is that Alhaitham has known he's Deshret from the time he was tiny. The story isn't about how he regains his tragic lost memories of being the desert king--it's about how he does everything he possibly can to avoid having to do that job again. Forming some grand ambition to achieve power? Nope, not doing that. Seeking the means to overthrow Celestia via forbidden knowledge? I'll pass. Becoming a main character? Absolutely not. Al-Ahmar Al-haitham is going to live a peaceful life this time, thank you. He's going to study a basic subject (his own language), get a basic desk job, find himself a basic little house, and somehow convince the perfect perfectly-mortal guy he went to school with to marry him--

Destiny, of course, finds him anyway. (Really, Rukkha, really?) The Akasha is turned on the people, the sages seize control, and does this upstart baby deity ("Shouki no kami," pffft, like who even are you, kid?) think he actually has a snowball's chance in the Mare Javari with the minds of two of Sumeru's real god-kings set against him?

At least at the end of all this, with the nation of wisdom saved and Kusanali in charge as she is very welcome to be, Alhaitham can still go home and be normal with his Very Normal™ roommate!

("Alhaitham, listen... I know this isn't the best of times, but there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I'm not exactly... who you think I am...")

#genshin impact #alhaitham #kaveh #haikaveh #kavetham #fanfic ideas #listen #I respect all the Deshret and Malikata reincarnation angst #but have you considered #COMEDY #of course Alhaitham wants to do nothing all the time #he's seen the alternative and it was no bueno #things I think about to cope #with the exceeding amount of work stress in my life #RIP

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amandacanwrite · 2 months

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The Violet Thread of Fate Part One:

The Reclusive Wizard and the Cheeky Upstart

POV || Third Person, dual POV Gale Dekarios and Elinna Inklynn (Tav)

Pairing || Elinna Inklynn (Half-drow tav) and Gale Dekarios

Length || 5,500 Words

Scenario || In an alternative timeline for the events of BG3 Elinna Inklynn, an orphan from the Moonshae Islands seeks out the tutelage of accomplished wizard Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. She has a knack with the Weave, but no money or connections to actually learn how to harness it. She has heard the wizard is a gentleman and a schollar, and hopes she can appeal to him to take her on as his apprentice in exchange for her help around his tower, with his research, and in running errands in Waterdeep. Unfortunately for her, Gale Dekarios does not take on apprentices.

Warnings || Age gap (Perhaps about 10ish years), depiction of depression and heart ache, description of very, very mild body horror.

A/n || I hope you all enjoy this very indulgent little fic I'm starting. I am already having entirely too much fun with it. Please keep in mind that while this fic will have a good amount of characters and scenarios from the canon events of BG3 I am planning on taking a lot of creative liberties and may leave out certain situations/characters for the sake of flow!

If you like this, you may also like my original works! I have a writing taglist that you can sign up for simply by commenting or reblogging and letting me know you'd like to be added. OR you can fill out this form if you'd like to be specific about which works you'd like to be tagged in.

Tag list || @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear @mymybirdie @tiedyedghoulette @drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24 @laserlope @auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide

A Reclusive Wizard

“Mr. Dekarios, if you would just consider it–” Tara suggested as she fluttered alongside her charge.

“Tara, no,” Gale said. “We are not dropping the wards and we’re not taking visitors. The orb is too volatile.”

“But, Mr. Dekarios–I’ve told you this isolation of yours–”

“Tara–enough,” Gale shouted, exasperated. “You are my friend. You’re not my mother. I’m a grown man, who has done quite well for himself, might I add, and I don’t need your–your incessant fussing.”

“Mr. Dekarios!” Tara tutted, her whiskers perking forward with her disapproval. “My incessant fussing is what helped you figure out how to stabilize the orb in the first place, may I remind you. And if you so tire of my incessant fussing, allow me to divest of its burden! I may not be your mother, but your mother is a friend to me and will happily put me up.”

“Tara,” Gale said. “Wait–I didn’t mean you should leave–”

“I know that. But I am also quite aware that my willingness to fetch magical items and act as your little familiar has proven to only enable your reclusive habits,” she retorted. “Perhaps you will not listen to me, but when you run out of biscuits for your tea, perhaps you’ll see the reason in getting a little bit of fresh air…and perhaps a bath…and for the sake of the gods a shave.”

Tara flitted her way up to one of the high windows in the tower, pausing on the sill before leaving.

“Tara, don’t go,” Gale said, his eyes taking on a sort of sorry, piteous quality. “Please, just stay here.”

“Mr. Dekarios, those big glittering eyes won’t work on me any longer,” Tara said. “I’ve known you too long to be bewitched by your pouting. If you so wish me to return, you can come fetch me at your childhood home. The walk will do you well.”

And with that, she soared right out of the window, leaving Gale of Waterdeep entirely and utterly alone.

Gale scowled up at the window she’d escaped from before sighing and smearing a hand down his face. He cupped his hand over his mouth and heaved out a low grumble, lost in thought as he often was these days.

Perhaps Tara was right…maybe it was time to leave the tower. To engage in the ease of camaraderie at The Yawning Portal, reach out to the colleagues that had tried to pay him a visit in the year since his relationship with Mystra had come to an end–since this tangle of Netherese magic made a home of his chest cavity.

But it wasn’t just the volatile nature of the orb that worried him. It wasn’t as if he thought a raucous night with his friends would trigger an explosion to level the city he called home. Even with the constant peril of the orb in his chest being destabilized by a too-strong emotion, there was a deeper fear inspiring the reluctance.

Gale Dekarios was used to being an outlier. Unfortunately, it was the otherside of the coin of being a particularly gifted wizard. As a child, it had been a source of ostracization. As an adolescent it made him the subject of many an ill-begotten rivalry. As a young man he had begun to learn how to minimize the isolation by compensating for the inevitable inferiority complex he inspired in others by learning to be charming and funny–to couch his corrections in complimentary language so that he could have some measure of friendship.

It wasn’t often that he could find people that could keep up with him or converse with him on his level–at least, not where the subject of magic came into play. But he’d learned to accept that and enjoy the company of other wizards–even non-wizards–in different ways.

A game of lanceboard, the critical analysis of a book, a spirited debate on the merits of the shadow arts when applied to the correct endeavors. Now, as a man in his late 30’s with questionable knees, he felt nicely secure in his ability to play nice with others.

But this new sense of separation–this insurmountable mountain between himself and the other–had been so very devastating to the life he had carefully cultivated.

How could he listen to other people lament about their sordid love affairs, the politics at the academy–anything– with any measure of understanding or empathy? How could he confide in the people who he used to call his friends?

He was alone in the tower, but he wasn’t certain he could face the profound isolation of trying to connect with someone about his condition, only to find them staring back at him in utter befuddlement. Or worse, with soulless platitudes and what he could only describe as foolish optimism.

Who could possibly make him feel better when there was no way he could ever feel better? How could he listen to the woes of friends and earnestly care about them when he had been forsaken by the goddess of the only thing he held sacred in his life?

He couldn’t. That was a the truth of it. And that was why he didn’t want visitors. He didn’t want to subject his friends to the poor quality of his care; didn’t want to expose them to this unique brand of selfishness and bitterness.

He’d had enough of destroying things.

But he also knew he needed Tara–not just because of the artifacts, but because she was his oldest and longest standing friendship. And because the tower, in her absence, had already become unbearably quiet.

And he supposed it had been a while since he last saw his mother…

He sighed and turned away from his mess of a study, climbing up the two flights of stairs to his bedchambers. Once there, he conjured himself a bath as he undressed, leaving his house robes in a pile on the floor before stepping into the steaming water.

It smelled of bay laurel and lavender–an old combination that Mystra loved to use when they’d shared baths together. His mind drifted to the thought of his goddess cradled against his body, how small she felt even with her considerable power, the feeling of her silky hair catching on his skin as he kissed the hollow of her neck and…

“Don’t take that path in your mind, Gale. She’s the last person you should be thinking about right now,” he told himself as he gave his cheek a couple firm, bracing pats with his hand. He let his head drop back in the water and sighed.

The water filled his ears, quieting the ambient sounds in the room around him and creating an echochamber of his head. He heard the airy sound of his breaths coming and going in and out of his lungs; heard the gentle trickling sounds of his fingers creating tiny currents under the water; heard the sound of his heart still beating in his over-crowded chest.

He was still alive.

There could be hope for him yet.

Unlikely, sure, but there could be.

After washing up with some simple soap, he got out of the bath and toweled off.

He walked over to the small wardrobe where he kept his things and slapped a couple lazy splashes of a fragranced suspension he’d made onto his neck, favoring his pulse points as he used to when he’d go out for a night at The Yawning Portal. He trimmed his beard as a small concession to Tara (he would not be shaving it completely, thank you very much,) and got dressed.

He decided he would wear one of his nicer sets of robes. It’d been a while since he’d properly dressed himself in something other than simple tunics and roughspun practice robes. He started with some leather trousers and his under shirt, layering the criss-crossed front with car and fastening it with the ties at his waist to create a slender, tapered silhouette. Then he slipped the robe on, and paused as he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

He’d not really been thinking when he selected the robe, but this was one of Mystra’s favorites on him. Various shades of violet with a wine-colored sash.

Violet, of course, was the color of the weave. Mystra’s color.

Would she want him to eliminate the color from his wardrobe altogether? Now that she’d left him to his devices? Surely a goddess couldn’t bar him from wearing a color. Hopefully not, considering more than half of his wardrobe was some shade of lilac, lavender or morning glory.

Whatever the case, he fastened the buckles and straightened the sash the wine colored sash, trying once again to put Mystra out of his mind. He did a flick of his hands to lace up the sleeves and then slid on some leather bracers for good measure.

It wasn’t as if he had any intention of doing any fighting or shooting any arrows, but he liked how they looked. And it had been so long since he’d looked in the mirror and thought to himself my, look at that handsome devil.

Finally he looked at the mop of his hair. It’d also been too long since he’d gotten a cut…now his messy curls fell past his shoulders when he usually preferred to keep it short enough to comb back with a bit of emollient or pomade. He was certain his mother would gripe about it and then he would have to deal with incessant fussing two fold between his mother and Tara. Still, it was dark outside–long past the time any salons would be open, so he gathered half of it up, bundling it as neatly as he could manage around his two forefingers and secured it with a two-pronged hairpin.

He looked at the earring on his wardrobe and hedged for a moment.

He’d been given the earring as a gift from Mystra when he’d first encountered her as a boy. He’d only stopped wearing it in the last year. Something had felt off about keeping it on–like a widower still wearing his wedding band. But it also felt wrong to leave his tower without it. It felt like a part of his identity.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said to himself in the mirror before turning from it and striding out of his bedroom.

…He returned not two seconds later and slipped the earring into his left ear. Damn it all. He couldn’t help what he was. A sentimental, heartbroken fool.

On his way out the door, he grabbed a hooded cloak and draped it over his shoulders. He lifted the hood, obscuring his face in shadow, hoping it would be enough to keep him from having to interact with anyone who wasn’t Tara of his mother. He considered, for a moment, casting an invisibility charm on himself…alas the concentration such a thing would require left him feeling exhausted at the thought of it. The cloak had worked for rogues and criminals for centuries. Suely it could work for him as well.

Finally, he left the safety and control his tower afforded him and walked out into the cold, Waterdhavian night.

A Cheeky Upstart

“Okay Elinna. Just…ring the doorbell. You’ve traveled all the way here. So just ring it,” a young woman told herself as she stood outside the wrought iron gates. “You sailed all the way from the Moonshae Islands, left every book behind, dealt with some of the worst sea sickness in all of the realms just to be here.”

Despite telling herself this, she had to shake out some of the numbness in her fingers from clenching her fists too tight. Or maybe it was just the nip in the air from the coastal evening. She couldn’t truly be sure.

As she stood there, her green eyes caught a streak of movement in the sky–some winged creature departing from a high window of the tower. She couldn’t quite make out what it was. Maybe a gargoyle? Or a mephit? An imp?

Something churned in her gut at the thought of Gale of Waterdeep cavorting with the infernal. Perhaps that was why no one had seen him in such a long time–maybe he’d made a pact with a devil and lost some of his humanity in the exchange. Maybe she ought to just turn on her shabby heels and book passage back home.

“You can’t do that, Elinna,” she told herself. “You already spent everything you have just to get here. You’re all in, now.”

But that was precisely why she couldn’t bring herself to tug on the chain to ring the doorbell. Who was she to show up at the door of one of the best wizards–a proper prodigy of composing strings of the weave; the apprentice of the famous Elminster, no less?

Well she knew the answer to that.

She was desperate. That’s what she was.

She’d been left at the Scribe’s Nest by her mother with nothing but a note and an old locket she couldn’t get open; drow craftsmanship. The note detailed her lineage as a half-drow, but begged the clerics of the temple to take her in and raise her. According to the note left in her swaddle, Elinna would be shunned and excluded by because of her impure blood.

A shame for both her mother and Elinna herself that the Scribe’s Nest had simply moved into an old Temple of Ilmater. The inhabitants inside were nothing but glorified librarians. They may have had access to all of the books in the world, but not a single one of her guardians actually knew how to use the information inside.

No. Instead, they tried to raise her to love cataloging the written word, but deny herself the joy of actually using anything she learned from the old dusty tomes in the temple. Even when she’d shown a natural knack for small magics, she had been discouraged from using them, leaving her with no choice but to practice in the wee hours of the night.

She knew she hadn’t much to use as a benchmark for her growth as a burgeoning young wizard, but she thought for all of the effort she’d put in she made a half-decent self-taught magician. All she needed was some proper tutelage to become something truly magnificent. Something worthy of the tales of great wizards that she’d read.

Which brought her here–to the first and only plan she had to seek out that higher learning. And now her future hung in the balance of whether or not her knock at the door–or rather the ring of the doorbell–would be answered.

Her heart pounded in her chest, at her temples. He leather fingerless gloves squeaked as she flexed and clenched her fists.

“Gah!” she cried, turning away from the gate, pacing across the narrow cobbled street, then pacing right back. She gasped in a few preparatory breaths and hopped from one soft-soled foot to the other. “Just do it, just DO it, Elinna. Just–”

The door of the tower opened, it’s underutilized hinges creaking as the man opening the door grunted.

“Damnable–old door–why did I make you out of iron,” grumbled the voice.

Elinna went entirely still, eyes going wide.

Perhaps it was habit from how many times she’d had to sneak tomes away from the restricted areas of the Scribe’s Nest, but she ducked behind the stone columns holding up the wrought iron gate and watched as the cloaked figure made his way to the gate and slipped outside of it with a wave of his hand.

She remained hidden as he looked down the road in her direction, his eyes looking too distantly to catch her small frame tucked away in the dark.

She’d seen sketches of the Gale Dekarios before, but she couldn’t help but feel they did him no justice. The etchings seemed to have emphasized the wizened qualities of his features; the lines around his eyes, the creases around his lips. They made him look sagely and–well–old.

But the real man, the one now standing in the flesh just a few feet from her was something different entirely.

He showed signs of age, of course. He was a middle-aged man, after all. But his lips were fuller, his beard a little more tidy, and his eyes…

His eyes were what made him look the most youthful. There was a sort of shimmer to them that she couldn’t quite describe, a sort of weight to his brow that made him look as if he was always curious, always observing.

She watched as he pulled his cloak a little tighter around him and turned the opposite direction, walking down the narrow street.

Wait, she thought. What am I doing?!

She hesitated for only one more moment before quickly hurrying after him. She searched her mind for all of the speeches she’d practiced for this introduction, but she was left wanting. She should have written it down so that she wouldn’t forget–or would it have been even more strange for read her introduction off the pages of a notebook?

It was all strange, of course; a girl crossing the ocean to show up on the doorstep of a stranger several years her senior. Asking for an apprenticeship when she hadn’t so much as sent him a letter of introduction or even had anything to offer in exchange except for chores, errands and meal preparations. Seeking tutelage from one of the most accomplished young wizards when she was still struggling with even the most basic of incantations…

But what else could she do?

The life of a Scribe Nest Archiver was not a luxurious one. She’d had to sneak out of the old Nest to sing songs at the local tavern to scrape what little money she could together to book passage to even get here.

Blackstaff wasn’t exactly inexpensive–and even if it was, she couldn’t hope to get in. Not with how poorly she handled the weave.

But Gale–she had read transcripts of his lectures, heard tales of how magnanimous and warm he could be. She even once met one of his friends at the tavern who was visiting the islands for this or that purpose–she couldn’t remember. She only remembered the tales of his kindness and generosity. Of his gentleman’s nature.

He seemed like her only real chance at ever mastering this art that sang to her like a harpy at roost in the bay.

God’s he was walking fast though. Perhaps it was just because she was so short in comparison to him, but she was almost having to run to catch up to him.

“E-excuse me,” she finally said when she was within earshot.

She saw the briefest glance back at her, the quickest flash of a startled expression, before he focused forward and quickened his pace.

“No, thank you,” Dekarios replied. “I’ve already a subscription to the Waterdhavian times.”

“Uhm, no–that’s not–” she stammered. “Wait, could you please stop walking so fast!”

“I’m in a dreadful hurry, good night to you,” he said dismissively, walking even faster as he pulled his cloak further to guard his face.

“Mr. Dekarios! I’ve come here to talk to you!” She shouted, a little crack of desperation coming out with it. “Mr. Dekarios I–”

He whirled on her, suddenly encroaching into her space. He was so quick that she almost stumbled backward and fell. Before she could, though, he seized her arm with one strong hand, stablizing her quickly before clasping his other hand over her mouth.

She stared up at him with wide eyes, bright irises flicking around his face as if she were prey caught in his snare.

“Shhhh,” he hissed before looking around, as if to see if anyone heard her. “Mystra’s Elbow, you’d think my reputation as a newly initiated recluse would have gotten around by now.”

Elinna swallowed dryly, critically aware of the feeling of his calloused fingertips on the soft swells of her freckled cheeks. She blinked up at him, unsure what to do. His hand felt warm through the roughspun, puffed sleeves of her Scribe’s Nest garments. Her feet were sort of turned in awkwardly after he’s caught her mid fall.

She wondered if it would have looked like she was being accosted by a thief to a wandering bystander. She supposed it didn’t matter because no one else was here. She knew she should have been afraid. That she was a young woman alone with an older man; that he’d rendered her silent and could easily do much worse. But she also knew that was likely the experiences at the tavern thinking for her.

Gale was supposed to be a gentleman. That’s what she’d always heard. And…

And his hands smelled like…like tea and old parchment and sage. There was a somewhat sharp quality to the fragrance–perhaps a suspension alchemized in alcohol of some sort. He must have made it himself.

“Now. This behavior of mine, admittedly, is abhorrent for a gentleman with a young lady. I will have to ask you to forgive my bad manners and to give me the grace of your understanding because I simply did not want to be greeted by anyone aside from my mother and my cat. Now. I am going to take my hand away from your mouth; apologies again for the rough handling. But I’m going to then need you to let me walk away. And perhaps most importantly, I need you to leave me alone,” Gale said quietly. “Do we have an accord?”

Elinna’s pale ginger brow furrowed and he tutted quietly.

“No, no. No crinkles of the brow, no narrowing of the eyes, miss,” he scolded. “It is by mere coincidence you’ve even caught me out of my tower. By all accounts this is an anomaly of the highest order and therefore…uhm…does not count. You should just forget this ever happened. In fact, I could help you do so if you like!”

Doesn’t count? What kind of logic–that was school-boy logic! And what did he mean help her forget?! She jerked her arm away from him and, perhaps in a moment of panic he tightened his grip.

“Alright, alright! I’m going to let you go–just– remember our deal, please,” he said, releasing her arm.

He winced slightly as he hesitated to remove his other hand from her mouth. She thought he had the same expression one might have if they were about to remove a cork from a vial of smelling salts.

He released his other hand, drawing it away from her mouth.

“Mr. Dekarios, I’ve come to ask you to take me on as an apprentice,” Elinna blurted out. “I know you have never met me, and that you have no notion of my ability or skill. And that showing up outside of a strangers house and asking them for a place to live–”

“I’m sorry, a place to live?” He interjected with an incredulous tone

“--and a comprehensive education in the arcane arts–” she continued.

“I assure you I do not have the time, and it certainly wouldn’t be proper for an older man to bring a young woman into his home to–” he interjected again.

“ But I have nowhere else to turn and…And I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer.”

His brows shot up as she finally stopped speaking. She didn’t know what to make of that expression, nor the silence that followed. Elinna could feel her face beginning to warm and she knew from that her face was already starting to color with her own nerves. It felt the same way it did when a tavern patron made a bawdy joke at her expense–or about her body.

The silence was the most unbearable part, though. So she started to fill it, her face getting warmer by the moment.

“You’re silent,” she said. “Uh–right. Names. I’m Elinna Inklyn. I hail from the Moonshae Islands. I grew up under the care of the Scribe’s Nest Archivists and–”

“Elinna. Elinna,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “I’m going to stop you right there.”

She felt her heart sink as he pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back, looking toward the sky. “Look, Miss Inklyn. I’m sorry that you came all this way, but. I am afraid you must take no as an answer. I cannot take on an apprentice, even if I wanted to.” He winced and almost half shrugged. “And frankly, I really do not want to. Even if I could do it, I wouldn’t want to do it.”

“But–if you’d let me explain–” she protested.

“No–no buts. Again, I am dreadfully sorry for the trouble you went through to get here. But…considering that you sought me out and addressed me by name, you must know who I am.” he said.

“Yes,” she answered.

“So, then you know that I am particularly gifted with manipulating the weave,” he said. “That’s why you’ve sought me out.”

“Yes,” she said yet again. “Well part of the reason but also because–”

“So, then I’m sure you could understand why I find the inadequacies of unskilled wizards irksome, correct? That if I were to take on an apprentice, it would be someone with a certain level of innate talent?”

Her brow furrowed again and she inhaled to speak, but before another word could fall out of her mouth a huge boom of sound tore out from the sky above them. She clapped her gloved hands over her ears and yelped.

“What was that?” she shouted.

The two looked up at the source of the sound only to see the sky split open like it’d been torn by a dull blade. Out of the opening flew a giant aircraft with writhing tentacles slicing through the air as if it were a squid traversing deep sea waters. The two wizards–one novice and one adept–balked at the appearance of the spelljammer, the size of it practically the size of Gale’s tower if you laid it on its side.

“A nautiloid?” They both said at the same time.

They met eyes briefly before Gale gritted his teeth and grasped onto her arm, almost flinging her away from him

“Get out of here, Elinna. And whatever you do don’t let the tentacles touch you,” he shouted.

She stumbled, almost falling on her face, looking back at him.

“What about you?!” she cried.

“I’m a wizard,” he said before turning and casting a bolts of ice at two of the tentacles that swatted out toward them.

“It’s a spelljammer!”

“I’m a very, very good wizard!” he said.

Elinna’s sense of self preservation won out over her worry for the man she’d come here to meet. If he thought he could take on a nautiloid, who was she to deny that? She turned and sprinted down the narrow street before dodging down an alleyway in hopes of getting cover from the massive tentacles that now swept down toward the ground like great, giant whips.

She chanced a single look back to see Gale running just behind her, and the spelljammer that was traveling far too quickly and far too low to the ground for comfort. He followed her down the alleyway, calling ahead. “Not that way! To the east–”

“I don’t know which way east is!” she shouted back.

“Are you kiddi–Eugh–LEFT,” he said. “LEFT, LEFT! Go LEFT!”

“Alright, I heard you!” she said. “No need to shout!”

“I will shout if I want to, now–Elinna, look out!”

She looked ahead just in time to see a brick wall and slipped on her worn soles as she tried to come to a screeching halt.

She slammed into the wall, but thankfully not with enough force to knock her out. She managed to clumsily tumble toward the left, dropping onto her fingertips just a moment before lurching back upright. Gale caught up to her and cast some spell–gust, she assumed– because a strong wind caught in the fabric of her clothes like a breeze in the sails of a galeon and made her feel like she was running on air.

He fought off another tentacle and she screamed as one almost tagged her, but smashed an old fish barrel to bits instead.

“Keep going. We’ll lose it on the main road,” Gale yelled.

They spilled out onto a wider street and she immediately regretted listening to the Waterdhavian native. It’d seemed a sound plan at first. But only if the goal of the ship was to find them specifically. When they made it to the street, Elinna realized that was not the drive of the nautiloid at all.

The main road was chaos. There were carts toppled over and people lying trampled on the ground. People ran and screamed, some of them were swatted by the terrifying power of the tentacles only to vanish into dust before they could make impact with the wall of a building or the floor below them.

Elinna froze in terror, realizing finally that her plight had gone from one of trying to secure a teacher of her own to one of simply trying to survive her first night on the mainland. It suddenly dawned on her that she might actually die here. She might die within moments.

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

It was a mistake to stop, but she realized it too late. A horse cried out desperately and tore away from the frightening vessel. It tore straight toward her, its eyes wild, his nose gusting tufts of steam into the air like a machine. It pulled a market cart along with it, full of heavy barrels of meat and wine. She braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut and thinking about the magic she’d read about. Misty step–misty step, what was the incantation for misty step?

“I-Inveniam Viam!!” she shouted, the words sailing on waves of the weave and almost…echoing. There was the sweet taste of something on her tongue–the after effect of using the weave if her reading was any indication. She’d only tasted that once or twice before, but chasing that sweet, comforting experience was what brought her here. It’s what made her so desperately want to learn how to wield this magic.

When she opened her eyes, the horse was gone.

Unfortunately for her, so was the ground beneath her feet.

She’d somehow teleported into midair and, as if the weave was just as shocked as she was, she’d wound up suspended there for just the briefest moment, cradled by the strands of the weave she’d managed to manipulate. Seconds felt like minutes as he copper hair floate away from her face as she experienced true weightlessness for just moments. Then she felt the sickening churn in her stomach as she started to fall.

The floor just far enough to be lethal but not far enough to give her adequate time to figure out another spell. Her mind went blank with terror. In a moment of desperation, she found Gale in the crowd, a stationary man in a sea of fleeing people.

He looked at her in abject horror as she dropped like a dagger out of the sky. He looked utterly, woefully helpless.

She screamed, wrapping her arms around her as if she could brace her own fall, as if holding herself would hold her together.

Then, just as she was about to splat on the cobblestones into a puddle of bone and blood, a searing heat bloomed from the center of her back. She screamed again as she felt herself dissolve from the inside out, her innards liquifying into a primordial soup.

Her body went miserably hot, and then impossibly cold. No. Not cold–she realized–absent. She was vanishing from the center of her body. She watched in uncomprehending horror as her middle vanished, watched as her body evaporated like steam off a teacup.

Her guttural scream sounded from her and died in the air.

The last thing she saw before her vision went black was Gale still staring at her as he too succumbed to the nautiloid’s attack.

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stardust-falling · 4 months

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*******

Under the guidance of the five great clans, the cultivation world had known centuries of peace. Then, one of the five ancient demonic tools found its way into the hands of an upstart sect of evil cultivators known as the Nameless. To save the world from total annihilation, rising star of the cultivation world Song Mingzhen faced down the leader of the Nameless in a fatal battle that shook the heavens. Though the disaster was prevented and the world was saved, the battle left Song Mingzhen gravely wounded in both body and mind.

After spending five years recovering in seclusion, Song Mingzhen has finally reemerged into the cultivation world. Once famous as the greatest sword cultivator of his generation, he has now become a peacemaker and humanitarian, hoping to help cultivators and common people alike to recover from the devastation caused by the war.

But things bound by fate are not so easily disentangled.

Not long after Song Mingzhen’s emergence, tragedy strikes one of the great clans. The clan leader is found murdered, another ancient demonic tool goes missing, and one of the former generals of the Nameless escapes custody, vanishing into the mountains.

Fearing that the terrible events of the past will end up repeating themselves, Song Mingzhen joins forces with Ning Feiyun, a reclusive prodigy from one of the subsidiary clans who has been put in charge of the investigation. Together, they must work to track down the fugitive before it’s too late.

*******

My original novel, Ghosts of the Heart, will begin serialization early this year!

Read it when it comes out on my Patreon!

Tentative first chapter release during the first week of February, one chapter released per week, but may increase if I get enough support.

All chapters will be available to any paid tier, with the first few chapters available for free as a preview (chapter one available immediately, future chapters after an early access period. After the introductory story arc, chapters will be paid-only).

#zhuixing writing #original fiction #xianxia #danmei #i am very very very excited to finally share this!!#it's been a long time in the making #if you're interested in this then please reblog this post! it would mean a lot to help me get the word out!#ghosts of the heart #zhuixing art #song mingzhen #ning feiyun

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bigfan-fanfic · 10 months

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Why Don't You Take a Seat? (Batdad Fanfic)

a one shot where batdad meets ra's al ghul for the first time and they have tea together, talk while waiting for bruce to arrive

"Please, Mr. Wayne. Have a seat." the strange man says.

It's bad enough that all your camera feeds have gone dark, the last you heard over comms from your family being the sounds of combat with mysterious assassins.

"It's not generally customary for the guest to offer a seat to his host." you respond, causing the man to chuckle.

"That is certainly true. And in the same vein, not customary for the host to not know whom his guest may be. I am Ra's al Ghul."

You freeze, the name making your blood run cold.

He... looks far too young to be the same man that taught your husband back when he was training, but it wasn't like people would be scrambling to use the name of the Demon's Head.

"And you know my name, it seems."

"Of course. We have been watching you with great interest."

"That's news to me." you say, thanking your lucky stars that Alfred isn't here tonight - so that if you do end up dying, at least your boys will have a caretaker.

A few more assassins in dark clothing emerge from the shadows, setting up a tea service before vanishing. Seeing no other recourse, you sit across from him, watching as he pours your tea.

"You of course know I am well-acquainted with your husband?"

"Of course." you say, sipping at the delightful porcelain cup. "Though it would seem your daughter would prefer to better acquainted with him."

"I do apologize for Talia. She seems to think I would favor her more were she to produce a fitting heir."

"A fitting heir?

"Archaic terminology, to be sure. Successor would be the better word. For many a year now, I have entreated your husband to be my successor, though his unwillingness to kill makes him... ill-suited."

"And so Talia..."

"Believes that should she and Bruce form a union, they may together bear a child that inherits both of their-"

"That's... not how having kids works."

"Indeed. I personally prefer that my successor show their worth through deed rather than breeding."

"So...may I ask why you've been watching me?"

"Of course. You see, the League of Shadows often examines civilization - which parts of it are worth sparing, and which parts have become too corrupted, too fallen, and must be purged. Gotham is one such city."

You balk at the idea of the League having so much power - more than Bruce had estimated when he told you about them.

"It was Thomas and Martha Wayne who, nigh-singlehandedly, kept this city afloat among the iniquity and vice of its underbelly. When they were murdered, we assumed the hope of the city had been slaughtered with them."

"But who should arrive on the scene but a young upstart with no other connection to Gotham high society but his bosom friendship and young romance with its de facto prince? You, my dear Mr. Wayne, took charge of this city and became its champion. Even among the cesspool of calumny and disdain, you have lit a beacon of truth. The last bastion of such things."

"That can't be true. I'm not the only one doing things to help." you protest. Ra's smirks indulgently, like an uncle tutting at the presumptive modesty of a favorite nephew.

"You refer to your husband?"

"Not solely. There are others trying to make a difference. Like Dr. Thompkins or Commissioner Gordon."

"And yet you are the most notable, and not only does your wealth make you the most powerful, your intellect and tactical mind makes you the one most charged to affect change. I say your wealth, and not your husband's wealth, because as I know it, you have your own standing as CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well as the Wayne fortune."

"You have been doing your research."

"Indeed. The League is no simple assassins' guild, my dear. We guide the direction of the world, in what we hope to be a favorable direction. I have been remiss in the past century, allowing the world to languor this way, what with its global warming and its wars of convenience and profit. I have intended to change it through drastic action, but... you have intrigued me. Perhaps there are... other ways. No great man truly wishes to end the life of another, and should it be rendered unnecessary, our sword can be stayed."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... your way. Gotham has seen a marked turn under your direction and manipulation. Perhaps not an instant one, but a noticeable one. To us, a favorable one."

"So you're saying that Gotham's survival is... totally dependent on me?"

"For now, yes. But that may change. The reason I sent Talia to distract your husband is because I wished to get the measure of you for myself. I admit, I once considered you nothing more than an emotional chain tethering Bruce to foolish sentimentality, but I came to appreciate your tactic. Far less brutal, and one I will also admit I dismissed. I have held a sword for so long, I forgot the utility of other tools."

"So... you want to work with me?" you frown, tilting your head.

"Indeed. We have much to learn from each other, and with the combination of our approaches, we may find a greater progress than we would in conflict."

"Combination of our approaches? You mean killing people?"

"You cannot deny it would be expedient."

"Even if I accepted that, it'd be the wrong approach, even practically! Just killing the people that stand in our way would create chaos, AND it wouldn't guarantee change the way systemic reform would!"

"See why you would be invaluable?" Ra's grins, unperturbed. "However, one could argue that your systemic reform could be hastened by removing those that would prove obstacles to it."

"Or it could jeopardize the movement by giving the opposition martyrs."

"Ha!" Ra's barks out a laugh of genuine delight. "You remind me of someone I once knew. She would never let my mind rest for a moment when she disagreed with me, nor would she let me hide behind pretty words or turns of phrase."

"Sounds like you need someone like that around you." You chuckle, and Ra's smirks in agreement.

"Indeed I do. Will you join the League of Shadows?"

"I hope this isn't the kind of offer that's only got one answer."

"For once, I will accept either answer. A 'no' now may become a 'yes' in the future."

"Then I shall take some time to consider."

"Indeed. I believe your husband is about to join us anyway..."

Ra's seemed a sensible, charming man when you first met him, but it was impossible to ignore how menacing he could be - how many atrocities he had already committed and planned to commit.

Indeed, though he allowed Talia to continue pursuing Bruce, it seemed he tried just as hard to woo you to his side.

In any case, it was never going to be the last time the al Ghul family became a part of your life...

#batdad x bruce #batdad reader #batman headcanons #headcanons #dc headcanons

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greenhappyseed · 9 months

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I still find it interesting that All Might is the only person to ever give All For One actual trauma. Makes sense why he had nightmares of that fight, since the last thing he saw for 6 years was an enraged All Might, with his guts hanging out, charging him and punshing his face in.

What do you think of their dynamic ?

I really enjoy their dynamic! They both love a good brawl and have a wealth of experience that nobody else can match, so they’ve got that “evenly matched despite divergent belief systems” thing going on. Horikoshi even lampshades their ‘fated rival’ dynamic:

But what’s better is how Horikoshi switches their circumstances around as the story goes on — it was All Might who was the young upstart against ancient AFO, then All Might the consummate limelight pro hiding his injuries against AFO the leader from the shadows who needed equipment to live, and now retired quirkless All Might who wasn’t even on anyone’s radar as a “hero” using equipment to battle young upstart AFO.

I also think about how in Kamino, AFO was motivated by personal hatred for All Might.

Meanwhile, All Might raged for the sake of others — for how AFO used people and broke them — because back then, raging over Nana (and her legacy) was All Might’s weakness. Now All Might knows what to expect. In 396, All Might is all “My name is Toshinori Yagi. You killed my master. Prepare to die.”

I love how All Might takes everything AFO used against him, including his love for Nana, his limelight image, and his pathological need to save others, and turns it back around on AFO, like Impact Recoil. A mirror image reflection.

His quirklessness and his love for his master, friends, colleagues, students, and fellow citizens do not make All Might weak. They don’t distract him anymore or give him “too many things to protect”. Stripped down to the bare essentials, they now give All Might literal and figurative armor against AFO’s taunts…and there’s nothing AFO can do about it. AFO may have experience and he may be the king of quirks, but All Might has grown wise to his strategies, has created his own quirk-immune vestige, and most importantly, has no more fucks to give.

That’s what haunts AFO’s nightmares. The feral man who just keeps coming back to charge at him again and again in new ways, who isn’t limited by age, pride, dwindling quirk power, or having his guts spilled.

#bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #all might #toshinori yagi #afo #all for one #nana shimura

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 3 months

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not sure if anyone's asked you this before/yet, but so you have any opinions or thoughts of the relationship between all of the pantheons? general relationship and possibly some more personal ones?

I've read many different headcanons and fanfiction where people have mentioned their thoughts on it, but nothing they've ever gone into detail about.

there's nothing really preventing them from interacting *👀 I keep remembering the smallest tiniest hint of freypollo we got* but that doesn't mean they go out of their way doing it, yk?

OKAY SO-

The pantheons I'll be mainly focusing on are the Greek, Roman, Norse, & Egyptian ones. I'll probably make little nods to other ones too tho :3

Don't be surprised if this mainly centers on Apollo XD He's my guy <3

GREEK & ROMAN

Let's kick it off with these two!

"But aren't they the same-?"

Nope! The Roman pantheon started off as their own sets of gods - the thing is, they had very little myths written down so we don't know much about how they were characterized :(

Howmever. We do know that when they were synchronized with Greece's gods, you can see the little differences between them - for instance, the Roman gods were more Forces Of Nature than gods who went out and Did Stuff, like Greece's.

Jupiter for example! He didn't have the "fucks around" rep Zeus does! Jupiter from the Roman's perspective didn't go out and do much. He rooted on Aeneus, yes, but the myths of his children weren't quite as popular in Rome as they were in Greece (probably because they were. ya know. Greek heroes, and not Roman)

And Apollo. Oh, Apollo...the only major god who didn't have a Latin equivalent.

Rome loved you so much they adopted you and went "no. no. he was always here. no we aren't lying. see? he's in the Dii Consentes!" XD

Fun Fact: Apollo is basically multiple gods in a trench coat. Paion (Mycenean), Smitheus (Mycenean), Aplu (Etruscan), Apaulinus (Hittie), Grannus (Celtic), ect were all Apollo-equivalents who historians have concluded to be past incarnations of Apollo!

which is INTERESTING because...do those gods still exist in the RRverse? Are they connected to Apollo in some way? Are they little voices in his head? DO THEY HAVE DRINKS TOGETHER?

I have questions and I need answers.

Greek & Egyptian

Saving the Norse for last because we all wanna save Freypollo for last <3 the best for last lmao

RIGHT OFF THE BAT I'M GONNA SAY THAT ZEUS DOESN'T LIKE THE OTHER PANTHEONS! I BET HE DOESN'T!

Which sucks for him because Apollo has friends in Egypt XD

I do think Apollo and Horus would be friends! Not only are they both associated with the sun in some way, but they were actually identified with each other when Greece met Egypt!

Greece: Oh so you have a super-powerful son of the king of the gods associated with light? So do we! :D

Egypt: Oh my gosh we do! :D

You know the myth of Typhon? Apollo transformed into a hawk to escape, and you know who has a hawk head?

Horus. :D

also Horus took over the thrown from Osiris - sure, not in an overthrow way but still. he overthrew Set and claimed the throne

sounds like something we all want hmm...

Also, I headcanon that Helios and Ra go WAAAAYYYY back and Apollo only met Ra like. once. before Isis did her blackmailing and Ra disappeared.

SO WHEN RA CAME BACK, WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN DURING HOO BTW, APOLLO HAS NO IDEA! HE'S ON DELOS AT THAT POINT! THEN HIS TRIALS!

So when he rolls up to the next sun god meeting he sees Ra and is like "wait what who are you- OH WAIT!"

And Ra's like; "WHO LET THIS CHILD BE PUT IN CHARGE OF THE SUN???"

Apollo: I'm over 4,000 years old-

Ra, pointing: BABY

(Headcanon that Ra & Amaterasu are like. the defacto sun god 'leaders' who keep the meetings rolling. Amaterasu was very tired when Ra disappeared and she had to wrangle these fiery gods together XD)

(Also Helios thought Horus was a lil' upstart XD)

Finally, I also saw someone else mention that Apollo could have learned some Egyptian magic and used it to create the border of CHB!

Headcanon Hecate snuck along with him and it's their little secret :3

Greek & Norse

HERE. WE. ARE.

LEMME GET MY MAP OUT

SO.

Green highlight is where Greece is. Blue is where Hyperborea is (see this post for details)

In that post, I came to the conclusion that Apollo Totally Definitely Has Met Norse Gods BECAUSE OF HIS WINTER VACATIONS!

AND IF YOU LOOK ACROSS THE BALTIC SEA-

STOCKHOLM.

AND WHERE DID APOLLO MEET THAT HOT GOD WITH A TALKING SWORD???

A TAVERN. IN. STOCKHOLM!

FREYPOLLO LIVES (<-knows very well it's basically already canon XD)

Fun fact: the people of Hyperborea were most likely the mythological avatars of the Norse people! :D

SO I CONCLUDE-

Apollo takes a trip across the Baltic Sea and flirts in the Stockholm tavern and that's how Freypollo happens <3

Other Pantheon Thoughts

Hindu: This thought came while I was creating my @underrated-lovers-of-apollo-poll - Apollo & Indra!

They shared an elephant ride that one time! Wouldn't it be fun if they also kissed? :3

also Indra is a storm god with thunder and lightning think of the angst-

Shinto: Amaterasu taught Apollo Japanese when he discovered the haiku for the first time - sadly, only Athena ever bothered to learn it to experience the haiku in its fullest. pushing my sibling agenda again haha

Because haikus always sound better in their native language <3

Hittie: This connects to the 'Apollo trenchcoat' thing earlier - if Apollo is like. the current form of Apaulinus, would the Hittie pantheon like. drop in from time to time like 'heyyyy we miss you <3'

Apollo: *trojan war flashbacks*

Apaulinus was heavily associated with Wilusa, whom historians have confirmed was Troy, and Apollo's first temple doesn't show up under AFTER the bronze age collapse and the war happened BEFORE that happened meaning HE WAS APAULINUS WHEN THE WAR HAPPENED MY HEART-

i need to look into more pantheons. it's so much fun making these connections and coming up with headcanons for the RRverse :3

#the oracle speaks #ramblings of an oracle #the trials of apollo #apollo #zeus #pjo apollo #pjo zeus #pjo jupiter #pjo helios #tkc horus #tkc ra #tkc set #pjo hecate #mcatgoa frey #freypollo #rrverse indra #rrverse amaterasu

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aita-blorbos · 9 months

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AITA for caring about my perfect record (and that of my protégée)?

So loads of people seem to think I'm an awful person for this, but I (65?M) am a Prosecutor, and a very good one. I have never received even so much as a mark on my record, or at least I hadn't until roughly 15 years ago (December 2001).

See, I used to have this rival (35?M), we'll call him G. G was a Defense Attorney, and during one of our cases, he proved that some of the evidence I presented was dodgy. I still won the case in the end, but the judge couldn't overlook my "misconduct" and marked it on my record. I was understandably upset, and honestly quite angry at G by this point -- he had ruined my record!

Luckily for me, just as G was leaving the courthouse, an earthquake struck. G was in the elevator at the time, and it got stuck.

Now at this point I should tell you that G was not alone. In the elevator with him were his son M (then 9, now 24M) and a court bailiff who we'll call Y (then 37, now 52M).

You can imagine my surprise when, upon finding the elevator, a bullet shot out through the window and lodged itself in my shoulder! I have recently learned that this was the fault of M, he had thrown Y's dropped gun in order to stop Y attacking G, and then passed out due to lack of oxygen. By the time the elevator doors opened, Y and G had passed out, too

Seeing Y's gun laying on the floor, I suddenly realised what I had to do. I picked the gun up off the floor, and shot G dead. I then feigned shock at the scene, raising the alarm.

Y was accused of the crime, since his gun was the one used, but the court did not charge him as he plead temporary insanity on instruction from his Attorney. M believed he killed his father, still did until fairly recently. He also developed an irrational fear of elevators and earthquakes as a result, which I believe merely speaks to a weak mind but that's none of my concern.

Following G's demise, I took young M under my wing. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and become a Defense Attorney, a delusion I swifty put a stop to, instead persuading him to become a Prosecutor like myself, training him to be the best, to fight for a conviction no matter what.

However, recently a "childhood friend" came back into his life. As a Defense Attorney. And he began to try to make M fight for the truth -- as if truth is more important than a clean record! This upstart Attorney also won several cases against M, destroying his record. And M even seemed to be beginning to fall for his "friend"'s trickery!

Naturally I had to put a stop to this, and so I had a letter written to M pretending to be the Attorney who defended Y all those years ago, R (48M), asking M to meet him at a local lake. I then called up R, asking him to go to the location (but earlier than M) and had Y shoot him and throw his body in the lake. Next, I made Y dress up as him, and shoot over M's shoulder and jump into the water (I instructed Y to take M on a boat ride to the middle of the lake). From the shore, this made it look as though M had shot Y (it was a misty night, and roughly midnight). M made it even easier to frame him as, in his shock, he picked up the dropped gun, meaning that when police found him, his fingerprints were all over the weapon. My plan was perfect, as anything by any member of my family should be.

But I failed to account for the amateur Attorney M used to call a friend. He decided to defend M. I thought this would be no big deal, he hasn't even been practicing law for a year yet! But he is thorough, and he can bluff his way through things. He ended up revealing everything, even solving the murder of G right before the Statute of Limitations ran out!! And I have now been charged with murder. All I ever wanted was to protect my record, I think it was all justified. Yeah, yeah, I killed M's father on Christmas Eve so now he has December-related trauma, but this is about me!

TL;DR: AITA for straight up murdering my rival in cold blood, taking his orphaned child under my wing, and then trying to frame said kid for another murder 15 years later? I did it to protect my perfect record, I think I'm justified :(((

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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Can I have more nun fighter mothering Zero gently liked she dose with other children?

Liked she is all gentile around children and give them fruits to snack on, but around adults and gods is liked she ready to slit their throats open and she wasn't called black Betty for no reason

-The children only knew you as Mother Y/N, a super nice and gentle nun, one that was so pretty and elegant, but the adults of Valhalla saw her more like a mother bear, ready to throw hands and shoot anyone between the eyes to defend the children she watched over.

-While all the children, except for one, had a family, they all came to your little corner as you would watch them while their parents worked, and you taught them about history, poetry, gardening, and lots of other stuff.

-You handled conflict with the children carefully, sitting with them if they were to fight, asking what happened and listening without judging, as it wasn’t your place to judge, while offering solutions on how to handle these situations.

-Many admired you for it, but nobody more than your adopted son, Zerofuku. You met him from the children, as he loved to play with them, then as all the families came to pick up their children, he was the only one left.

-You asked him and he just smiled, telling you that he didn’t have a family, just good friends, like Buddha, who allowed the young god to sleep in his meadow, but he didn’t have a family.

-You very quickly changed that, giving him a soft smile, patting his head, “I can be your mother if you would like.” His elation was infectious as he leapt into your arms, making you twirl around as he laughed, thanking you.

-You doted on your son, treating him like how other parents treat their own kids, going out on walks, holding his hand, patting his head, getting him the occasional treat.

-Zerofuku loved it, being just like everyone else and even Buddha could tell he was happier, and others saw you with Zerofuku, seeing how you treated him, and they admired you for your gentle love and kindness.

-When some upstart gods tried to threaten both Zerofuku and the children, he shifted into his envy form, to protect them, as he knew he was more powerful in that sense.

-However, he didn’t have to fight, as you came in with a well-placed round-house kick as the other parents were rushing to protect their children, but they calmed, seeing you there.

-The kids were stunned, seeing you easily kick ass, the high slit in your robe making it easy to fight and knock back these gods as your friends, gods and human warriors you’ve met over the years, were rushing.

-When the last god tried to charge at Zerofuku, you placed yourself in front of your son, your gun pointed right between his eyes, your eyes cold, ready to pull the trigger.

-Brunnhilde kept you from killing him and you turned to Zerofuku, seeing him staring in awe before you hugged him close, “Are you all right?” it was just like the other parents and his envy form quickly melted away, leaving him in his normal form, hugging you back, “That was so cool mama!”

-The gods and warriors, especially those who fancied you, were stunned, hearing this, seeing that you adopted Zerofuku as your own, but at the same time, it looked perfect, a perfect little mismatched family, Zerofuku, you, and (Love), only you didn’t know that (Love) had feelings for you.

-For now he would just stay back, watching you be such a good mother.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror zerofuku

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mwolf0epsilon · 1 year

Text

Several months into the Imperial Era, during a routine job for either Cid or Rex (you can pick which it's not really important), Clone Force 99 end up on a busy Trade HUB city planet similar to either Coruscant or Daiyo.

The streets are bustling with movement and all kinds of legal (and ilegal) activity, and it's somewhat easy to get lost in the crowd and blend in. The group splits up to get affairs done, with Wrecker and Hunter going to talk with an informant, while Tech goes off to shop for parts for the Marauder, and Echo and Omega go shop for other more basic supplies.

Omega ends up wandering off accidentally and gets lost, which almost immediately catches the attention of some less than agreeable folks. She gets cornered in an alleyway and, just when everything seems like it's going to end badly, she gets rescued by two cloaked strangers.

The two ask her if she's ok and if she needs help getting back from wherever it is she came from, which she's apprehensive about at first until she catches a glimpse of their hooded faces. Two clones, both with hairline scars where their chips used to be.

Echo tracks Omega down and is initially alarmed seeing the two strangers talking to her, before Omega notices him and says that she's ok and that the two are friends. That they don't have their chips in anymore. Naturally, Echo demands they identify themselves, which one of them does almost immediately. The one that hesitated when Omega called out Echo's name.

Lo and behold the hoods come off... And it's Fives and Tup under there. Looking just as shocked and bewildered about Echo being alive, as Echo is shocked that **they** are standing before him looking as right as rain.

The reunion is a hesitant frail yet exhilarating thing. With Echo and Fives both not trusting this too good to be true situation, and actively questioning each other on things only the Domino Twins would know, before it fully hits them. This is real. They're both there. They're both alive. They made it.

They hold on to each other for dear life while very openly crying, foreheads pressed together and just letting all of the emotions, the survivor's guilt, the denial, the hope and sibling love flow. Tup and Omega watch on quietly. Let them work it out.

There's going to be a lot of explaining to be done. And Hunter resolves that they call Rex once they can set up a more secure connection because this is great news. The trip back is a bonding experience and a lot of catching up on what they've all gotten up to since the Order went out. They decide to talk about the more extensive details of Fives and Tup's survival once they can talk to Rex.

The mission having gone off without a hitch boosts everyone's mood. And while Tech sets up a call with Rex with Tup's help, the rest of the batch goes off on a small errand to make a quick credit while they wait.

This errand ends... Rather poorly.

They catch the attention of some upstart street gang that ends up trying to rob them, and during a struggle one of them throws an explosive charge at Echo. Fives reacts almost immediately and grabs the charge to toss it away from the twin he'd thought he'd lost to another explosion. It goes off in his grip... Revealing circuity and hydrolics beneath...

Everyone stops.

It's like time itself has frozen as they all stare at the mangled machinery that used to be Fives's arm. Echo is mortified, but not more so than Fives himself who's staring at the mess like it's completely foreign to him. He looks at the others, sees their horror, the fear, the sudden distrust in their eyes, and he backs away. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know what this is.

When he looks at Echo specifically, he sees the absolute betrayal in his eyes.

"You're... You're not..." Not Fives, but Echo doesn't finish that inquiry. He doesn't need to. The others are reaching for their holsters, Omega looks at a loss for what to do.

"̴I̷'̸m̸.̸.̷.̴ ̴I̸ ̸a̵m̶ ̵I̷.̴.̵.̷ ̴I̸ ̵h̸a̶v̸e̶ ̶t̸o̵ ̷b̷e̶!̵ ̴I̴ ̴a̴m̵ ̷F̷i̸v̴e̵s̵!̸"̶ The cybernetic imposter calls out, but he doesn't sound like Fives. The blast must have broken something internal, because his voice is a glitchy mess, and that just distresses him further. "̸I̶'̸m̶ ̸r̶e̷a̶l̶.̷.̵.̷ ̶I̶.̶.̷.̵"̶

The machine steps back, clutching the ruined arm with tears in his frightened eyes.

"̸I̵ ̶h̸a̸v̵e̸ ̴t̸o̶ ̵b̴e̸.̵.̵.̷"̷

And then he runs away. Leaving them completely behind.

Echo is a mess. He really thought he had his brother back, but it was some kind of twisted joke. A sick trick of some kind. It's like losing Fives all over again, but there's no time to dwell on it. Tech is alone with Tup who is very likely also an imposter as well. They need to hurry back.

When they return to the Marauder they find Tup strapped to a table and connected to several machines. He looks absolutely distressed, much like Fives had, while Tech is both disturbed and highly fascinated by this entire situation.

While the others were off on their own, Tech had offered to give Tup a medical check-up (since they hadn't had the time to do it before, and it's better to be safe with one's health than to be sorry), only for both of them to get some rather odd readings when Tech did a preliminary scan.

Readings that indicated Tup was not a human, but rather a machine of some kind, which alarmed Tech and put him on the defensive. Tup immediately swears that this can't be possible, that he remembers training as a cadet on Kamino, remembers graduating and joining the 501st, remembers the shitshow that was Umbara, and so on and so forth... That there's no way he's a fake!

Hearing all this, Tech ponders for a while before agreeing to believe him (or at least believing that Tup really didn't know because the other is absolutely terrified). And, so long as they could run a few tests, he'll trust that Tup isn't up to anything insidious.

The tests reveal something very alarming indeed: That Tup is a very soffisticated kind of android designed to perfectly mimic people, and that who's AI was created using a brain scan.

It's also revealed that, upon trying to look back on his very last memory before he and Fives ended up on the run, Tup cannot remember what happened on Ringo Vida. Has no memory of what lead up to the real Tup's death. The scan must have been done right before Tup died, so he'd have nothing to go on other than Fives's word...

Realizing that this is a lot more complex than they immediately assumed (and seeing how freaked out Tup is at discovering he's "not real"), Echo runs off to go find Fives while everyone else is busy with the implications of perfect android imposters.

He's still shaken up about all this. But, seeing how genuinely afraid Tup is, he can't live with the idea of having any version of Fives (not even an AI copy) dealing with this on his own.

Echo knows what it's like to wake up altered in a now barely recognizable galaxy, after all...

He manages to track the damaged (wounded?) android to a very dingy looking public bathroom. Fives is curled up under a sink and, when Echo kneels down in front of him to see if he's ok, he's horrified to find that Fives has ripped off the left side of his face to expose the machinery beneath. He looks heartbroken and so terribly afraid.

"̴I̴'̸m̸ ̷r̴e̷a̷l̵.̷.̵.̷ ̸I̷.̵.̸.̴ ̴I̸'̴m̸ ̴r̵e̸a̵l̷ ̸I̷ ̶p̷r̷o̴m̶i̶s̶e̸.̷.̷.̷"̴ The left side of his face is a horrifying abomination made up of various servos and circuits, the right side a hauntingly lifelike mockery of life.

"̴E̷y̵'̴i̵k̷a̵ ̴I̷ ̶p̷r̵o̷m̴i̸s̵e̸ ̸i̷t̴'̸s̵ ̶m̷e̶.̷.̷.̴ ̷I̶.̸.̸.̷ ̵I̸'̸m̴ ̴F̴i̵v̴e̸s̸!̴ ̷I̵.̴.̶.̷ ̸I̸.̵.̴.̴ ̸I̷'̴m̵ ̸s̴c̵a̸r̷e̵d̸.̷.̶.̴"̵

And Echo believes him.

Because, even if this is a copy, a cheap knockoff, those are still his brother's memories in there. And he's terrified and hurting. He's only ever heard Fives so terribly afraid once, and it still haunts his nightmares to this day.

Echo scoops up his twin into his arms and just holds him while Fives cries his heart out. They'll figure this out. Somehow.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #writing prompt #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper tup #omega #hunter #wrecker #tech #fives lives au #tup lives au #well sorta

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