#lesser known composers

[rafiknyclassical]

Ensemble: Lionheart Album: Paris 1200 - Pérotin, Léonin, Chant And Polyphony From 12th Century France Video: A selection of photos of the Gargoyle of Notre-Dame

[rafiknyclassical]

Always something good from #lesser-known-composers.💯

Antonio Bertali (Verona 1605-Vienna 1669): Sonata a 2 Violino è Viola da Gamba (Düben collection)

Amandine Solano, Violin Henrikke G. Rynning, Viola da gamba Leonardo Bortolotto, Violone Christoph Sommer, Theorbo Jorge López-Escribano, Organ

Live recording Temple des Eaux-Vives, Geneva (Switzerland) 4/6/2015

[ceausescue]

Could you explain the labels in your bio? I'm not sure what half of them mean

straight: im normal

white: im white

male: i am a man

fujoshi: i appreciate the art form known as "yaoi"

techbro: i consider all computers to be my brethren

rat: i am a rationalist

slave moralist: i hate strength and love my fellow man

reddit atheist with catholic characteristics: i am smarter than you and will go to heaven

tme: i am a man

crypto fightgod: i will wage war on the deep state until all those who wish to free us of the tyranny of traditional banking are free themselves

markets faggot: im into markets in a manner reminiscent of a feminine, lesser man

new jerseyan irredentist: i recognise the historically and culturally justified claims which the state of new jersey has to the land traditionally taken to compose the cities of new york city and philadelphia

summarist: i believe the purpose of information is refining models, which is a self-justifying activity

dengist-trotskyist-stallmanist: self explanatory

a man with the aesthetic judgements of a very dull child: i am significantly dumber than ogre. not even surface level themes impact me. i am distrustful of all representation, and doubly distrustful of all "meaning"

[celestemona]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

a brief look at their daily life & random family’ moments

pairing: dad & husband! wriothesley, cyno, kaveh x fem! reader

cw: different timelines. original characters, maternity, pregnant reader in wriothesley's part, parenthood, use of endearment names, arabic terms & fluff stuff. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

x

WRIOTHESLEY

Amid the quiet hum of daily tasks, you and Wriothesley shared a comfortable silence in his office, broken only by the soft rustling of papers and the scratch of his pen against documents.

The movements in your womb were a gentle reminder of the life growing within you, but it was the swelling in your feet that caused the most discomfort. Taking advantage of a moment to relax, you reclined on the new sofa your husband had thoughtfully bought, balancing a stack of papers on your belly. While you worked through a few revisions, your true attention was drawn to a crossword puzzle from The Steambird newspaper resting atop the pile.

“Wrio, quick—seven letters. Known as Liyue’s enlightened beasts or gods,” you asked, glancing up from the puzzle with a spark of curiosity.

Wriothesley looked up from his form, his lips curving into a smirk as he replied confidently, “Easy. Adeptus.”

You beamed, grateful for his quick answer, and eagerly scribbled it into the puzzle. Before you could move on to the next clue, a soft knock on the door caught your attention. Wriothesley called for the visitor to enter, and the door creaked open to reveal your teenage son.

“Mum, Dad. Are you busy?” Cameron asked, peeking shyly into the room.

“Never for you, sweetheart,” you replied warmly, setting aside the puzzle and placing the papers on the tea table in front of you. You gestured for him to come closer, and Cameron’s shy smile turned radiant as he walked over to sit beside you, quickly enveloped in your affection.

“Is something wrong, buddy? I thought you were in the city with Quentin,” Wriothesley inquired.

“Oh, no, everything’s fine,” Cameron reassured him. “Quentin forgot that today was his parents’ performance day, so Corinne picked him up while we were at the beach. Éveline is busy too, so I decided to come home.”

Both you and Wriothesley nodded in understanding. Rising from his desk, Wriothesley announced, “I’ll make some tea for all of us.”

As he left, Cameron nestled into your embrace while you returned to your puzzle, never letting go of your son. The peace was short-lived, however, as your daughter, still in your womb, seemed to sense her brother’s presence. She began kicking energetically, demanding attention of her own.

Cameron chuckled, watching the movements. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” you replied with a laugh. “Sometimes it feels like she thinks my belly is a playground, and even my ribs don’t escape her antics. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Smiling, Cameron gently placed his hands over your belly, where your baby's tiny feet were stretching. His soft touch seemed to calm her, and the powerful kicks gradually eased into gentle nudges. You sighed in relief.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Cameron said softly, his voice full of anticipation.

You kissed the top of his head, your heart full. “She’s looking forward to meeting you too.”

A few minutes later, Wriothesley returned with a tray of tea and a few treats, the sight of his wife and son greeting him with warmth. As he joined you, the love and contentment in the room seemed to swell.

Even after all these years, Wriothesley couldn’t help but marvel at the simple beauty of his family. You, Cameron, and the little one on the way—his heart overflowed with gratitude for the life you had built together.

CYNO

The General Mahamatra was escorting the Lesser Lord Kusanali back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana after a lengthy meeting with the sages and the Akademiya's scribe when a familiar sight caught his eye—you, leaving the Grand Bazaar with the twins by your side.

A faint sparkle crossed his usually composed gaze, a flicker of warmth that most would miss—especially those who would go out of their way to avoid catching the matra's attention. However, the perceptive little dendro archon wasn’t most people. With a soft giggle, she turned to Cyno and suggested he end his day early to spend the afternoon with his family.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, her tone light and reassuring. “I’ll take a quick look around and be back home before dark.”

Cyno hesitated, concern briefly knitting his brow. As a protector, it wasn’t in his nature to leave the young archon unattended. He began to decline, promising to join his family at the end of the day. But Nahida, with her characteristic blend of wisdom and playfulness—and perhaps a subtle flex of her authority—persisted.

Eventually, Cyno relented, expressing his gratitude before bidding her farewell and making his way to you.

It was Isaar who first sensed his father’s approach, the boy turning to greet Cyno with a wide smile and an enthusiastic wave that quickly caught both Aryan’s and your attention.

“Cyno,” you greeted warmly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His ears tinged red, though his stoic demeanor didn’t waver. Amused by his reaction, you chuckled softly as the twins ran up for their customary pats on the head.

“Hey, Baba, guess what!” Isaar exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’re having Shawarma Wrap for dinner tonight!”

Cyno blinked, his brow arching in curiosity as he glanced at you. “That’s unusual. Any special occasion?”

Grinning, Isaar puffed out his chest. “I won three rounds against Yan in Invokation TCG! We bet that the winner could pick a special dinner, and I got to order from Mama!”

Cyno nodded in understanding while Aryan sighed, the quieter twin clearly disappointed. “I really wanted to eat Mama’s Panipuri,” he murmured, his tone soft and wistful. “Grandpa Cyrus even helped me pick the best potatoes for them.”

Your heart melted at his words. Smiling, you leaned closer to him, your hand gently stroking his face. “I’ll make them next time, Ary,” you promised in a quiet voice meant just for him. “I’ll even make double the amount, just for you.”

Aryan’s eyes brightened as he nodded, comforted by your assurance. Cyno, overhearing the exchange, couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Once again, you had effortlessly resolved a situation that others might dismiss as trivial, yet to you, every detail of your children’s happiness mattered deeply.

Without a word, Cyno relieved you of the shopping bags, holding them in one hand while his other reached for yours. Intertwining your fingers, he began leading you home, his quiet presence grounding and reassuring.

The twins walked a few paces ahead, deeply engaged in a lively conversation in their unique language—a secret code they only shared with each other. Even as they chatted, they never strayed far from their parents’ watchful eyes.

Moments like this were rare, given your respective duties, but Cyno savored every second. The simplicity of walking hand-in-hand with you, watching the twins chatter animatedly, filled him with a quiet, profound joy. These were the moments that reminded him of what truly mattered.

Perhaps, he thought, as his grip on your hand tightened slightly, he should ask Nahida for more days off. Just maybe.

KAVEH

“Daddy, daddy, daddy! I’m going to marry Hakim!”

Those were the enthusiastic words your sweet little girl announced as she bounded into the kitchen. You paused mid-preparation of lunch, glancing over your shoulder, while Kaveh, comfortably sipping his wine, choked violently on the drink.

Concerned but mildly amused, you hurried to help him recover from the coughing fit that erupted—not from the wine itself, but from Zahra’s startling declaration.

“Princess,” Kaveh managed to say after a deep breath, his voice still raspy, “I thought you were going to marry daddy.” He gave her a shaky smile, clearly hoping her young heart still belonged solely to him.

You snorted softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your work.

“No! Daddy is already married to Mommy,” Zahra explained matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ooh! Look at this pretty drawing Hakim made for me!”

She held up a colorful, childlike but remarkably detailed drawing of the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Even Kaveh, reluctant to admit it, couldn’t deny the talent evident in the work. Hakim, it seemed, though a miniature replica of his father, had his own gifts.

“Oh my! It’s so beautiful, Zaza,” you praised as you leaned over to admire the drawing. “Did you thank him properly?”

“Yes! I gave him a rose,” Zahra replied proudly, her chest puffed out.

Kaveh’s heart softened at her response.

Zahra truly was a thoughtful, kind-hearted child. Every day, he watched her grow into a bright, beautiful girl, reflecting the best qualities of both her parents. She was his little princess, the light of his life, and Kaveh would protect that light fiercely. The thought of anything—or anyone—taking away her happiness made his chest tighten.

“Daddy is still against this marriage, though,” Kaveh suddenly declared, snapping out of his reverie. He crossed his arms, attempting to look stern. “You’re too young, and I highly doubt Hakim has the resources—or the qualities—to provide you with a good home. Besides, men, in general, are terrible.” He paused, then added smugly, “But daddy isn’t. Daddy is the best. So daddy is still the best choice!”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a pinch on the cheek. Kaveh pouted dramatically at the gesture, though he didn’t pull away.

“Let kids be kids, Kav,” you said with a fond smile.

Zahra, meanwhile, seemed neither disheartened nor discouraged by her father’s objections. Instead, her little brow furrowed in thought before she confidently replied, “But daddy, Hakim promised we’d get married when we’re big like you and mommy, and his mama and papa. He said that when he grows up, he’ll be a great house artist like you, and then he’ll build a house for us to live in. You can visit us all the time!”

Kaveh was internally horrified. They were already making plans for the future, and Zahra hadn’t even turned seven yet. The idea was unacceptable. Intolerable. His sweet baby girl couldn’t possibly—no, wouldn’t—grow up so fast.

But as he looked into her sparkling golden eyes and saw the genuine joy in her smile, he couldn’t bring himself to crush her whimsical dream. With a dramatic sigh, he relented—though not without setting a few conditions.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But you’re not getting married until you’re fifty-nine. And Hakim has to build a palace with many rooms and a beautiful garden. And I’ll visit every day!”

Zahra clapped her hands with glee, her delighted giggles echoing in the kitchen as she threw her arms around him.

Meanwhile, you watched the exchange with mild amusement, a warm sense of comfort filling your heart.

If only Kaveh realized how common the “childhood friends to lovers” trope was, you thought with a grin, he’d surely take back everything he’d just said.

.

.

a/n: i planned to write a part for kazuha and alhaitham but i'm a little bit tired so in the next update? we'll see...

please let me know if there are any mistakes ;)

edited: dec/2024

[obscuretobyfox]

congrats on the 10k!!!!

question: what’s your favorite toby fox song ever?

THIS IS AN IMPOSSIBLE QUESTION!!!! /silly

It's hard to really nail down my favorite, so I'm just gonna run through a ton of them!!! After all Deltarune Chapter 4 gave us THIS:

I remember getting distracted while playing and standing still because I was just trying to count the time signatures LOL

Not to mention this masterpiece, which had my jaw on the floor when it dropped!! I remember saying "ok yeah this is gonna play the whole area that's why its so good"

Homestuck is in an entirely different category for me, because this is not Toby composing video game music, but rather SCORING animated sequences, which leads to these super dynamic and exciting tracks!!

This one is also a personal favorite of mine, I think if there's one thing that's inspired my own music the most it's everything Toby ever did for Homestuck. (I should really finish that comic someday)

This is also, by far, my favorite official version of Megalovania out there. I'm always a sucker for electric guitar, and it is CRAZY in this track.

This one is just straight beautiful, and reminds me a lot of things we would hear later in Deltarune!

This one.. is just crazy, what else can I say!! (Also, 1:21 sounds suspiciously familiar to a certain TV-Head's recent boss theme.. Hmm...) Fun fact, the name of this song was chosen by Homestuck fans, as Toby decided to give them the option, and "Oppa Toby Style" was the result!

A lesser known track, made for the "I Miss You" Earthbound tribute album in 2012 (Said album also contains the original Fallen Down and what the fandom would turn into Megalo Strike Back) I just like how ominous and experimental this one is, it gets stuck in my head at the most random times.

This track is probably familiar to most of you by this point, specifically for a motif used at 0:54 that has later appeared in Deltarune several times!! Despite the connection, however, this is just a really funky Kirby-esque boss theme that I love a lot :3

This one has a lot of similarities to the aforementioned TV WORLD, and I would definitely say its high up there!! I wish Toby Fox would go crazy with breakbeats again one day.. Purrhaps.. I can only put 10 videos to a post, so that's it for now!! (I may reblog this later with some more of my favorites, though..) Thank you for your ask!!

[iridescent-solstice]

˗ˏˋ☁️‧ ₊ ˚ 🦋 ‧ ₊ ♡ˎˊ˗

{Headcannons for an upcoming au i'm planning} Not enough people talk about Claude after he loses Ciel Phantomhive's soul to Sebastian... Especially not ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ... ໒꒰ྀི ˃  ∩∩  ˂ ꒱ྀི১

{Wolf spider!Claude X moth!reader}

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ who goes back to his claimed territory, sulking the whole way after his loss. Because for the first time in a million years H̷̬͖̻͒e̷̢̝̫͖̯̍̇̀͊ ̷̬̻́l̴͖̹̅͋ọ̴̈́s̶͇̬͔̆̈́̚͝ẗ̴̪́̎̃̿ ̴̢̧͚̜̊͠ḩ̴��͍̰̳̂̄͐i̷̠͇̥̹̓͆́̊s̶͎͍̘͊͑̐̽ ̵̗̆̌́̿̍p̵̦͎̥̟͔̈́̾ṙ̸̺̼̉ī̶̭̻͇͉̕z̴̥̠̙̳̅̃̒e̷̹͙͋ This loss is not easy pill to swallow when he's the one, who's infamously known as the calmest and composed in any given scenario. He finds himself losing his cool. His anger, and rage causing continuous damage both around his and others territory.

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ and his presumptuous nature, overconfident and eccentric behaviour being the reason behind his biggest failure, that too to a younger demon! - A massive blow to his ego... Sebastian absolutely getting the upper hand on him once he loses his poise. A more established and esteemed demon losing in such a manor would absolutely make him a laughingstock among the inhabitants of hell... And it does. That too because of a human soul's aroma? Preposterous! Claude is absolutely seething in solitude. So, he makes up for his loss of reputation by unleashing absolute chaos onto whoever dares to even snicker at him.

The aroma of Ciel Phantomhive's soul... An aroma he had yet to ever encounter on his own adventures... Truly a noteworthy meal. He'd even applaud Sebastian if he wasn't kitten licking his bruised ego.

So, you can see why he's so perplexed when he senses the same fragrance back in hell... On a demon too... A pretty one, one lesser in status than him, but makes up with her resourcefulness. The unique skull like birthmark on your forehead, just above your adorable doe eyes, and the quiet buzzing of your wings makes him shudder in excitement. Ideas of you writhing underneath him... In his arms, as he makes you his own... Hmm exciting, no? So, like the opportunistic hunter he is, eager to win your affections he revels in the idea of a chase. Especially after one as mesmerising as you are ♡

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ who searches high and low for you, but is stumped to see you are nowhere to be found... Where he wants you to be. Only for you to walk right into the palm of his hand. Clueless as to who even has his eyes on you. You, the runt of the litter just trying to find a place to settle, and you strut right into his lair for a measly amount of nectar and honey. Once he gets his hands on you however...He will never ever let you leave his sight. You're his whether you like it or not~

"There's no use in trying to run little one, you're mine now~"

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @thefallofruins ╰➤ {ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ, ᴏʀ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪꜰɪᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ}

[humidcitrusgrove]

Okay...

as it says in the description.

Yesterday, I got up did some Tumblin with my account @steamedtangerine (a seven and a half yo. account)-many of them vintage scans of architecture (one was an upbeat Peanuts comic). I went to work, came home tired after 10p. (EST), and tried to log-in upstairs with difficulties. When I hand typed the log-in, I got smacked with a big notice saying my account was terminated. I checked my email and saw no notice saying what this was about or any explanation as to why this occurred. In fact, the last notice was a new follow (many of them lately have been blanks or underdeveloped garbage with no activity in over four months with other redflags present) close to 6pm. So, somehow in that four hour period, I was axed.

Was this a glitch? Was it an AI matter? Was it a hack (if so, who posted what under my name to hurt me?)? Was it a brigaded attempt to take my account down? Did I block too many accounts? Did I report too many of the shady pornbots who had crappy video links to sites other than those like Chaturbate or Onlyfans?

I have sent in a request into the matter and I have made a post on Reddit about it. I am now using this new alt-account (never thought I'd ever have to make one of these) to reach out to other accounts to do me a big, solid favor. Some time back, accounts like @nemfrog and @moviesludge had been arbitrarily removed. I sent out DMs to other accounts that had supported these accounts in the past, and they reached out (along with me) to contact staff and support to examine and re-instate those accounts (I think I did with @nemfrog)-which, luckily, worked.

I am asking accounts like @mortifiedandawesome , @feed-the-crows , @moviesludge , @7wo7rees , @nycewell , @obviouswar , @memory-thought , @peculiarist , @vor765wm , @bitter1stuff , @donnerpartyofone , @nemfrog , @baskiet , @wee-toe , @hirokuthegoblin , @maa-pix , @donecant , @candont , @instamatik , @thatsbelievable , @lesser-known-composers , @brunothegrape , @roguetelemetry , @ursaminorjim , @eternalistic , @hokeoutsider (no I haven't forgotten about you), @artoftcbaldwin , @slcr303 , @ceevee5 , @beelzebunny (you-uh-still alive there? Kind of miss ya!) @snappingthewalls, @contac, @multifacetedwitch , @spockvarietyhour , @cosmicretreat , @fatmagic , @motherpussbucket , @gameraboy2 -and so, so , so many others (I'm sorry If I've forgotten, my head has been pounding heavily for hours lately) to just take ten minutes out of their time to send staff and support a message requesting they look into and examine closely my account steamedtangerine and please reconsider the termination so that my account will be restored whole and full.

I promise if restored I will (probably) be better, nicer to new accounts and lighter on the block button (maybe-unless this termination is a fine example of why I should do it more), and stop theorized too much about future conspiracies by shady imperialist sickf!cks (well...we'll see about that).

So, if you can stomach a few more years (months!? -sadly I heard the CEO of WP has been acting-well, he's been acting a little funny in the head lately) of me posting ugly gifs, outdated vintage imagery, cheap smut, old pics of Detroit art, and political bluster, then just do me this big favor to push for me to be restored (do an internet seance if you have to just to resurrect this ghost blog) and get steamedtangerine back up and running.

[gingerdusk]

Archwizard Gale lore???

Okay, SO! My personal headcanons for Gale's powers, both as archwizard and Chosen of Mystra, are based upon the following:

D&D makes a distinction between "archmage" and "archwizard," with the former being a spellcaster dedicated to the arcane arts and either: the counsel of royalty, a lich tyrant, or a reclusive hermit, all with multiple apprentices, and the latter being "an arcane spellcaster of extremely high power who successfully claimed a floating enclave," that specification coming from the time of Netheril.

Gale is NOT royal counsel, NOT pursuing lichdom, NOT a hermit (willingly), does NOT have apprentices when he first makes the claim, and does NOT have a floating enclave.

Despite these, he still claims "archwizard" as a title. This is significant, especially from Waterdeep, where the most powerful wizards in the world gather, including Laeral Silverhand (another of Mystra's Chosen, immortal to a degree, and Open Lord of Waterdeep) and Vajra Safahr (current Blackstaff and Archmage of Waterdeep).

Bonus points for his significance, he is Gale of Waterdeep. His personally chosen moniker marks him as outstanding among Waterdhavians. There might be a handful of people named Gale in Waterdeep, but there is only one Gale of Waterdeep. This is further backed up by Lorroakan recognizing him, with his only reason for Gale being lesser than someone who supposedly figured out immortality being that Gale was Mystra's discarded lapdog.

Gale is skilled in all manner of magic. This is confirmed directly in his epilogue, where you can question him about his choice teaching the School of Illusion, and he says that he wanted to teach ALL the classes there, but the staff told him no. That includes schools you wouldn't normally associate with him, like Divination and Necromancy.

Based on all of that, I've decided that "archwizard," as Gale means it, is a term referring to a wizard who's multiclassed into all their subclasses.

Does this make him overpowered? Yes. But he's an archwizard, prodigy, and Chosen, he's MEANT to be within the bounds of his own lore.

In addition, I also believe him to be an untrained Storm Sorcerer, based upon the following:

Sorcerers and wizards differ in that sorcerers know magic intrinsically, while wizards study it to use it.

When talking to Halsin as Origin Gale, you can tell him that as a baby, you summoned a whole pack of rabbits. Presumably, baby Gale was NOT reading and comprehending arcane textbooks.

Gale has an intrinsic understanding of the Weave, by his own admission, saying he could compose it rather than just control it. He was also casting third level spells like Fireball at eight years old.

Gale's theme is all about storms: his name is Gale, he occasionally says "A rough tempest I will raise" in combat, almost all his official art has him controlling lightning, and his robe is thunder purple. This continues into God!Gale's design, where he has literal glowing lightning bolts framing his eyes, and his outfit is lightning blue.

K'ha'ssji'trach'ash: On his own, the mephit is pretty self-contained; it's a magma mephit capable of revealing the true form of a True Ressurection scroll. However, the key to getting him to do this is to respond to the question "what is my name" in Ignan with the correct answer. After which, K'ha'ssji'trach'ash says "T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale." We don't know what this means, but it's clear that he's talking to us, about Gale, possibly thanking us or asking us to pass a message along. This implies that he doesn't speak Common, or else he would, because we answered correctly. Why do I bring this up? Storm Sorcerers have an innate ability called Wind Speaker, which allows them to speak Primordial (including Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran). Thus, Gale can speak to/understand K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, despite his known/studied languages being Common, Celestial, Giant, and Draconic.

Because he's untrained, and rather than Storm Sorcery being just a Lv1 flavor bit that does little, I've decided that Gale has access to the class features of Storm Sorcery without access to its spell slots or Metamagic, that way it's reflective of his power without training.

With both of these conclusions, both archwizard and sorcerer, I've decided to pick and choose which class features are from which iteration of both classes, because BG3 and official D&D have a few key differences that were mostly changed for gameplay reasons. I've then taken those and added more flavor to them, based on the already-given flavor of D&D and effects of BG3, doing away with the mechanical side of things for storytelling reasons.

On top of this, because the maximum level you can reach in BG3 is Lv12, and we know that the Orb consumes "the greatest of [his] talents," I've decided that the Orb consumes any ability beyond Lv12 until its removal.

That being said, beyond whatever spells and slots you care to give him, the powers I think Gale has pre-tadpole are:

Abjuration

Arcane Ward: When Gale casts Abjuration spells, residual magic shields him from the worst of incoming hits

Projected Ward: Gale can extend Arcane Ward to someone nearby instead of himself

Improved Abjuration: On short rest, Gale can strengthen Arcane Ward to sustain itself beyond a single hit

Evocation

Sculpt Spells: Gale can control his Evocation spells and keep them from harming allies

Potent Cantrip: Gale can force enemies that resist his cantrips to take half damage from them anyways

Empowered Evocation: Gale's Evocation spells are particularly deadly (based on +INT modifier to damage rolls)

Necromancy

Grim Harvest: Gale can harness the power released when a spell kills a creature to heal himself, UNLESS it's undead or a construct

Undead Thralls: Animate Dead: Gale can reanimate a corpse

UT: Additional Undead: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to reanimate one corpse to reanimate two corpses with Animate Dead

UT: Better Summons: Gale's reanimated dead can take more of a beating than others' dead

Inured to Undeath: Gale's been exposed to necromancy enough that he's resistant to necrotic damage, and his life force capacity can't be reduced (this one in particular helps with the "Netherese bile" flowing through his veins)

Conjuration

Create Water: Gale can call forth rain at will (BG3's feature over D&D's to align more with storm sorcery)

Benign Transposition: Teleport: Gale can teleport up to 30ft, and can use that to swap places with an ally

Focused Conjuration: Gale's concentration on conjuration spells can't break due to pain

Enchantment

Hypnotic Gaze: So long as Gale holds eye contact with someone, he can charm them into stopping everything they're doing and staring at him in a daze

Instinctive Charm: Reflexively, Gale can make a split-second charm attempt to redirect an attack at someone directly nearby

Split Enchantment: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to enchant one person and instead enchant two targets at once

Divination

Portent: Gale can focus and gain split-second glimpses into the immediate future (such as the next blow about to be thrown in a fight)

Expert Divination: Casting divination comes naturally enough to Gale that he can cast divination spells using a lower spell slot

Third Eye: Gale can increase his powers of perception and gain a very limited Darkvision/Ethereal vision at will, as well as read any language

Illusion

Improved Minor Illusion: Gale can cast illusory effects with incredible ease

See Invisibility: Gale's experience with illusions lets him detect invisibility spells at work, focus on them, and see through them

Illusory Self: Gale can create an identical double of himself reflexively to confuse opponents

Transmutation

Experimental Alchemy: Using transmutation magic, Gale can more efficiently refine potion ingredients, occasionally enough to create a second potion

Transmuter's Stone: Gale can lock some of his transmutation magic into a stone, granting whoever holds it an effect of his choice from the following: Constitution proficiency, Darkvision, extra speed, resistance to acid/cold/fire/lightning/thunder damage

Shapechanger: Gale can polymorph himself once a day without consuming a spell slot (only into beasts with a CR of 1 or less)

Storm Sorcery

Wind Speaker: Gale can speak, read, and write Primordial (Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran)

Tempestuous Magic: Gale can summon gusts of wind around him immediately after casting a spell greater than a cantrip. These winds are strong enough to propel him in flight for ten feet

Heart of the Storm: Gale has resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever he casts a spell that deals lightning or thunder damage, the magic that erupts is stormy and more powerful than other kinds of magic at equal level

Storm Guide: Gale can subtly control the weather around him, causing rain to stop falling in a 20 foot sphere centered on him, or wind to blow in a different direction in a 100 foot sphere centered on him

Feats

These are based on what I, personally, think make the most sense for him pre-tadpole:

Ability Increase: +2 to INT score

Elemental Adept: Thunder: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to thunder, and when a spell he casts causes thunder damage, it can't critically fail

Elemental Adept: Lightning: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to lightning, and when a spell he casts causes lightning damage, it can't critically fail

Okay, so Gale's crazy powerful, right? What could he have possibly lost that's greater than all this?

Well...

Abjuration: Spell Resistance: Gale was in tune enough with the Weave that he could resist spells (as well as gaining advantage on saving throws against them)

Evocation: Overchannel: Gale could deal maximum damage on a 1-5 level spell without ill effect on first cast, but suffered unresisted necrotic damage when using it again

Necromancy: Command Undead: Gale could bring undead made by other wizards under his control

Conjuration: Durable Summons: Gale could give anything he summoned a temporary shield against damage (30 temp HP)

Enchantment: Alter Memories: Gale could make someone unaware they were charmed by him, as well as make them forget something that happened during that charmed period

Divination: Greater Portent: Gale used to be able to predict more split second decisions ahead with ease

Illusion: Illusory Reality: Gale used to be able to pull shadow magic together into illusions and make them, temporarily, real. He can still do a limited version of this, but only via concentration to keep the threads together (hence the "anatomically correct" illusory wizard in the Drow twins scene; shadow magic is NOT the same as the Shadow Weave)

Transmutation: Master Transmuter: Gale could consume magic stored in his transmuter's stone in one go, using it to transmute one object into another, remove curses, diseases, and poisons, raise the dead, or reduce a creature's apparent age by up to 30 years

Storm Sorcery: Storm's Fury: Gale could react with lightning damage when struck physically Wind Soul: Gale was immune to lightning and thunder damage, could fly at a speed of 60 feet, and could reduce his flying speed to 30 feet for 1 hour to make four additional people fly

Yeah. Ouch. And that's not even including his former Chosen abilities.

Gale's Chosen abilities

Silver Fire: Gale could command pure energy of the Weave in the form of silver-white flame, which, at his command, could destroy anything in its path, banish dead magic areas, restore torn Weave, purge external magic and psionic effects from his own body, teleport without error to the last location he used the ability at, or cast spells without verbal, somatic, or material components

Mantle: Gale could cast the dangerous Mantle spell without suffering any ill effects, while other wizards casting the spell would suffer a drain of life force as long as it persisted

Weave Detection: Gale could detect magic's presence without the use of a spell

Weave Tapping: Gale could cast high level spells repeatedly without losing a spell slot, although this was discouraged by Mystra

On the page for Mystra's Chosen abilities, it says that sometimes her Chosen gained an immunity to magic, as well as disease and poison. I don't think Gale was so lucky, however; in the House of Healing, he mentions that he once turned himself in to a hospice in Waterdeep for a "bout of ruddy pox." Him having turned himself in implies he was an adult at the time, and should, therefore, already be Mystra's Chosen.

All that to say: behold, Gale of Waterdeep, in his original splendor. How the mighty have fallen.

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

defying fate

a/n : love and deepspace au | reverse-harem | mature and explicit | MDNI — not for kids | lads boys x femreader | read at your own risk | story masterlist : love and deepspace

previous ... next

CHAPTER 3 : SCHEMING

Present day :

It was a well-thought-out plan.

You weren’t to be left alone—not anymore. Not with the mounting threats, the shadows moving quicker than eyes could track, and the secrets you now held. Your safety had become non-negotiable, and Sylus, ever the mastermind, made sure of that.

The meeting took place in a secure, nondescript room deep beneath one of Sylus’ lesser-known safehouses. No windows. One exit. A polished metal table stood in the center, and around it: the five men whose names sparked either fear or fascination across Deepspace.

Sylus stood at the head, composed in his custom-cut suit. He wore the air of someone in control—every inch the refined, dangerous businessman. "Thank you for coming," he began, voice smooth like silk pulled taut across a blade. "Though I know none of you arrived out of courtesy."

Across from him, Xavier stood with arms crossed, back straight, posture militant. "Bold," he said in a low voice that carried across the room. "For the most wanted man in Deepspace to reveal himself to a hunter... and a Colonel."

Caleb didn’t rise to the provocation. He was dressed in uniform, boots firm against the concrete, posture unwavering. "Save the dramatics," he cut in flatly. "We’re not here for ego or performance. We’re here for her." His tone was curt, precise—the kind that shut down arguments in a war room. "If we’re all clear on that, let’s move forward."

Zayne sat silent, hands folded, eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He didn’t speak. He rarely needed to. The tension in his stare was enough. He was observing each of them the way a surgeon observed a beating heart—watching for flaws, for cracks. For the moment something could be cut open.

Meanwhile, Rafayel sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. He leaned back in his chair and flicked a slow glance around the table, fingers lazily spinning a blade ignited with a flickering flame. “Is this going to start, or are we just here to glower at each other until someone caves?” His tone was casual, but his eyes weren’t. “I ditched a gala for this. I expect at least a little blood or betrayal.”

Five men. One table. A silence so thick it pressed against anybody's lungs. Each of them carried enough danger to collapse a city—but none had made a move.

Yet.

The silence hung, bitter and volatile.

Then Zayne’s voice broke through it—sharp, dry, impatient. “If this is going to drag, I’ll leave. Unlike some of you, I don’t have the luxury of brooding in basements. People die when I’m late.”

His tone wasn’t rude. It was the truth. But it cut deeper than any insult.

Sylus didn’t react. He remained seated, perfectly still—arms crossed, chin rested loosely on his knuckles. His eyes, half-lidded in lazy calculation, flicked from man to man. Watching. Waiting. Like a dragon coiled around gold, gauging which thief would make the first wrong move. Silent, yet dangerous in every breath.

Zayne continued, voice now laced with something almost imperceptible—resentment or maybe something darker. “Let’s not pretend this is about strategy. She,” he said, nodding vaguely, “is emotionally entangled with every one of us. Whether through circumstance or choice. It’s inefficient, messy… and entirely human.”

A pause.

“Her gaze lingers. Her heart hesitates. Her voice softens. It’s all there. You all see it.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “And it’s pathetic that none of you have refused to acknowledged it in a way.”

Caleb’s jaw clenched first. Then his fist. A spark of Evol shimmered against his knuckles—restless, raw, like a storm under skin. He didn’t speak, but the way his shoulders tensed spoke volumes.

Rafayel, who had been spinning his flame-tipped blade idly against the table, froze mid-motion. His smirk faded. His expression turned hollow. “Tch,” he scoffed, voice suddenly lower. “You say that like you’re not part of the mess.”

Xavier’s face was calm, but the tight clench of his jaw betrayed him. His hand shifted subtly to his side, ready, steady. Danger began to thrum like static between them.

It was Sylus who finally moved.

He leaned forward with unhurried grace, like a serpent ready to strike—not because it was threatened, but because it was tired of watching mice scurry. “I’ve known,” he said, tone low and silken, yet coiled with malice. “Every one of you carries a tether to her. Thin, fragile threads connecting your souls to a girl who shouldn’t exist in this world—but does.”

He smiled, slow and haunting.

“Fate is laughing at us. A sick joke. That the most dangerous men in Deepspace should be bound by the same woman, at the same time, in the same hell.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

No one challenged him.

Sylus let his words settle like ash in a ruin. Then, after a beat, he added, almost lazily, “This silence is more honest than any of your performances. It confirms everything.”

Rafayel exhaled, eyes now lit with fire—both literal and not. “If fate’s toying with us, then let it. But I’m not stepping aside.” He turned to the others, voice firm, colder than usual. “I’m not letting her go.”

Xavier’s reply was immediate. “I don’t trust anyone in this room to protect her,” he said darkly, eyes hard on each man.

Caleb straightened, the heat from his Evol bleeding into the air around him. “What makes you think you can protect her?” His voice was low, dangerous. Gravity began to distort subtly at his fingertips, pulsing with suppressed rage.

Rafayel’s flames cracked into existence across his knuckles. “Try that tone again, Colonel,” he said coolly, though his eyes burned.

Xavier’s blade was already halfway out its sheath.

Caleb stood, Evol surging.

Rafayel didn’t even rise—he didn’t need to. Fire curled at his fingertips like waiting fangs.

And Sylus… sighed.

Bored. Unimpressed.

“Children.”

That single, tired word froze no one—but it irked everyone.

Then—

Zayne’s voice cut through like a scalpel.

“Sit down. All of you.”

Calm. Cold. Inevitable.

His eyes were sharp enough to cut through bone. And for one reason or another, they listened.

Zayne’s words still lingered like smoke after a blast. Yet no one moved again—not until Xavier shifted, ever so slightly.

His voice, when it finally came, was low. Barely a whisper. But it was enough to command the room’s full attention.

“…It’s not like I haven’t acknowledged her feelings.”

His eyes were fixed on the ground, his jaw tight. His voice trembled—not from fear, but from the unbearable mixture of frustration, anger… and guilt.

“I see it. I feel it. Every time she looks at me like that. But everything is—” he stopped, swallowing hard. “Everything is too messy.”

Silence again.

A heavier one this time. Loaded. Guilt-ridden.

Caleb’s fingers flexed once before curling into a fist again, hard enough that his knuckles cracked. He didn’t look at Xavier when he spoke.

“…Fate really is cruel,” he said, voice cold and bitter. “To let her exist in this timeline—where every damn version of us, from different places, different worlds, ended up here… and fell for her.”

His voice dropped lower. “It’s like she was meant to ruin us all.”

“No,” Rafayel snapped, rolling his eyes with all the drama of a man who had no patience left. “You’re all ruining yourselves. And we’re wasting time.”

His voice was sharp, sassy—fed up, but unmistakably grounded in how much he cared. “If we’re gonna spiral into an existential war about emotions, someone better start serving wine.”

Sylus shifted then, finally—his chair creaking as he leaned forward.

“I agree,” he said smoothly, voice now darker. He was done being amused.

“Fate may have played us,” he continued, eyes flashing, “but maybe—just maybe—there’s a way to break whatever cosmic joke this is.”

That pulled their attention back to him immediately.

Zayne looked up first. Then Caleb. Something cold passed between them—understanding, recognition.

Xavier’s hand froze just above his sword.

Only Rafayel scoffed.

“Really?” he drawled, one eyebrow arched, voice a sharp edge wrapped in velvet. “A monogamous, devoted dragon is the one laying out a plan to share his mate?”

He leaned back, his fire crackling faintly at his fingertips again. “Dragons don’t share. You burn down kingdoms for what’s yours.”

Sylus’s smile was slow, dangerous.

“And yet here I am,” he murmured, “considering the possibility of rewriting instinct for her. But would you, the sea god, do the same for her?”

The silence that followed wasn’t shocked—it was disturbed.

Because none of them doubted his sincerity.

And that terrified them more than anything else.

Sylus didn't blink as he said it, “If this is the only way to have her… without destroying her—” his voice dropped, soft but edged with steel, “then so be it.”

That hit harder than any threat he could’ve made.

Caleb stiffened, but not out of rejection. He understood immediately. He always had.

Because at the end of the day, all he ever wanted was your safety—your happiness. To shield you from the darkness that had followed you from birth. That still clung to your name like a curse.

As his sharp gaze swept the room, Caleb saw it for what it was—this wasn’t just a meeting. It was a convergence. A knot of fate that refused to be unraveled.

Maybe Sylus was right.

Maybe fate had brought them all here not to fight… but to protect.

Caleb’s voice was low, clipped, but it cut through the room like a blade.

“You all know she’s targeted by EVER.”

No one argued.

Caleb continued, tone grave. “UNICORN’s protection is already slipping, based on my latest intel. Other organizations are starting to catch wind of her abilities. If they figure out the extent of her power…”

His hands clenched on the table, Evol crackling faintly at his fingertips. His eyes darkened with fury.

“They’ll come for her. Not to recruit her. Not to help her. But to cage her. To use her. Experiment on her. Or worse—turn her into a weapon or kill her.”

The room fell deadly quiet.

Xavier broke the silence, voice gravelly and low. “Captain Jenna’s doing everything she can. But her knowledge is limited.” He shot Sylus a hard look. “Not like him.” A pause. “The leader of the most wanted organization on the planet is apparently more invested in protecting her than half the bureaucrats in charge.”

Sylus didn’t deny it. He simply tilted his head, face unreadable.

Then Rafayel made a sound—a sharp exhale, half-laugh, half-snort. But his eyes had widened slightly, and his fingers twitched as if his mind was going too fast to keep up with.

“Oh,” he muttered. “Oh hell.”

They all turned to him.

Rafayel looked like someone who had just solved a riddle he wished he hadn’t.

“Maybe… maybe she’s just too strong.” His voice was laced with awe and something else—dark amusement. “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe one man alone just… can’t be enough.”

A beat.

“For her.”

The weight of those words sat thick in the space between them.

Zayne, who had been silent again, pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Enough with the dramatics,” he muttered. “We’ve established one thing clearly—she needs protection, she’s strong, but not invulnerable to threats or danger.”

His tone was dry, but there was no hiding the underlying exhaustion.

“Maybe…” he continued, eyes flicking to each of them, “…maybe that’s where this—whatever this sick partnership is supposed to be—starts.”

None of them liked the word. But none of them refuted it.

Because deep down, they all knew the truth:

You were worth the chaos.

You were the reason they were even considering something like this.

And fate, twisted and cruel as it was, had thrown them all into your orbit.

Now the question was—how far were they willing to go to keep you safe?

And which of them would break first?

Rafayel was the first to break the tension again, crossing one leg over the other with dramatic flair, arms folded, and an expression that danced between disdain and reluctant fondness.

“Well,” he drawled, lips curling, “if this pathetic coalition is happening, then let’s set one rule straight.”

All eyes turned to him.

“No one,” he said with a deliberate pause, “is allowed to one-up the other. No competitions. No pissing contests. No secret little rendezvous unless she wants it—” he pointed a finger at everyone and arched a brow, “and none of this petty jealousy nonsense.”

His voice was light, mocking, but the fire in his eyes betrayed something deeper.

“Because I care about her more than any of you ever could.” His gaze swept across the table challengingly. “Bound to her, soul-deep, whether I like it or not. Lemuria’s Sea God, mate-marked and cursed to love her endlessly—just like our cold-blooded dragon over there.”

Sylus gave no response, just tilted his glass lazily, but his eyes glittered with approval. Or was it amusement?

“And protection?” Rafayel’s tone dropped an octave, the sass softening into something honest. “That’s why I kept her close. Made her my bodyguard. It wasn’t because I needed one. It was to keep an eye on her.”

Caleb scoffed quietly at that—couldn’t help himself. His mind flashed back to the mission, to Rafayel’s insufferable presence, dragging him around just to avoid one damn banquet—

Rafayel’s eyes flicked to him in a glare, but he didn’t say anything.

Neither did Caleb.

They just locked eyes for a breath. Then broke it.

Sylus finally leaned forward, breaking the quiet tension with his smooth, polished voice.

“Now that we’ve agreed we’re all neck-deep in this twisted mess,” he said, “we keep things subtle. We go about our lives. Business as usual.”

Zayne’s voice came next, quieter than the others, yet grounded in something deeper—resignation.

“No more lies.”

The others looked to him.

His tone was calm, clinical even—but the weariness in his eyes spoke volumes. “Not when her memories are starting to resurface.”

He didn’t elaborate.

His foresight had warned him it was coming. He’d seen the shadows of it in your pulse, your dreams, your eyes when you stared just a little too long at things you couldn’t remember.

Caleb nodded once, solemn and sharp. “She’s not stupid. And she knows us too well. If we keep hiding shit, she’ll walk away.”

His jaw tensed. “She’ll walk before we even have a chance to keep her.”

The silence after that was heavy.

Then Xavier, who had been quiet, finally spoke. His voice was steady, but his eyes flickered with a rare vulnerability.

“I’ll agree to whatever she’s willing to accept.”

Simple. Sincere.

That was when Sylus snapped his fingers.

The door opened without a creak.

Luke and Kieran stepped inside silently, one carrying a bottle of aged wine, the other holding a tray with five crystal glasses. They placed them gently on the table.

Sylus raised an elegant brow when no one moved.

“It’s not laced with anything,” he said with a touch of amusement, swirling the bottle in his hand. “Even I’m not that dramatic.”

Zayne reached forward first, taking one glass. He lifted it to his nose, his doctor’s instincts kicking in. A small sniff. Then another. He took a sip, then finally nodded.

“Safe,” he said simply.

The rest followed after that, trusting the only man in the room who could sniff out a dozen poisons blindfolded.

Sylus leaned back in his seat, finally pouring for himself.

“You should all learn how to trust one another,” he said smoothly, lifting his glass in a silent toast. “Because none of you can hurt each other…”

His gaze sharpened, turning pointed.

“…without hurting her in the process.”

Your name was left unspoken. But it hung in the air like a promise. Or a threat.

Because you were the storm around which they all orbited—chaotic, powerful, irreplaceable.

And from now on, everything they did…

Would be for you.

The crystalline sound of five glasses clinking together echoed through the tense room.

“Cheers,” Zayne muttered dryly.

“A toast to the first twisted partnership of its kind,” Xavier said under his breath, tone flat.

None of them smiled. None of them looked remotely amused. And yet, in some sick cosmic joke, it felt official.

Rafayel let out the loudest eye roll you had ever seen—or would have, if you were there. His head tilted back in full, exaggerated exasperation, followed by a muttered groan as he sipped the wine with all the flair of a diva forced to drink from a chipped teacup.

“Wonderful,” he drawled, eyes flicking over each man like they were particularly dull pieces of furniture. “Weekly meetings with you lot. Can’t wait. Absolutely thrilled.”

Sylus didn’t even blink.

“Ever heard of a mobile phone?” he said, tone slick and lazy, every syllable dipped in mockery.

Rafayel scoffed, flipping his hair as if that was beneath him.

Caleb took a step forward then, the sharp, commanding air of a Colonel sliding back into place.

“I agree,” he said, serious as ever. “Minimal physical interaction between us, unless it’s necessary. Tactical.”

His gaze swept across the group, dark eyes narrowing with precision.

“We observe. We act only when needed. Especially when it concerns her.” He paused. “Specifically, if it’s tied to the resurfacing of her memories.”

Everyone stilled at that. Even Rafayel didn’t quip back.

Because that was the truth none of them could ignore: you were beginning to remember. And that changed everything.

Zayne gave a curt nod of agreement. “She’ll be overwhelmed. We need to be careful.”

Xavier’s grip tightened around his glass, but he said nothing, jaw flexing in a subtle sign of inner tension.

Rafayel exhaled loudly, setting his glass down with a bit more force than necessary.

“Fine. Weekly virtual nightmares. I’ll bring the sarcasm, you bring the drama.”

Sylus rose first, fluid and poised. “Then it’s settled.”

One by one, they followed—silent, distant, and grim.

Because even though they had agreed on this fragile alliance…

The storm was just beginning.

And at the center of it all—was you.

[margaretkart]

The Exclusion of Greek Actors in Greek Mythology Films: An Issue in Hollywood Casting

The dismissal of Greek actors from playing roles in films about their own history and mythology is a recurring issue that often goes unnoticed or is simply excused. The comments in the provided image reflect a mindset that normalizes this exclusion, either due to ignorance or indifference.

1. Hollywood’s Profit-Driven Casting and the Erasure of Authenticity

Hollywood functions as a business, and the primary concern of major studios is maximizing profits. This often means prioritizing well-known, bankable actors over authenticity. While financial success is an understandable goal, it becomes problematic when it leads to the systematic erasure of actors from the very cultures being represented.

A major Hollywood production about Greek mythology will almost always feature a cast composed primarily of American, British, or Australian actors. The argument in favor of this approach is that these actors are "recognizable" and will attract audiences. However, this logic only holds because Hollywood itself creates and reinforces this system. If Greek actors were given opportunities in major films, they too could become well-known on an international level. The cycle of exclusion ensures that Greek actors remain unknown outside of Greece, making it impossible for them to reach a point where they are considered "bankable."

2. The Hypocrisy of Selective Authenticity

Hollywood often claims to prioritize historical or cultural accuracy when it suits them, but fails to apply the same standard to casting. For example, a Greek mythology film may feature meticulously researched armor and settings, yet the actors speaking and portraying these legendary figures have no connection to the culture that birthed these stories.

When other countries produce films about their national history or mythology, they naturally cast actors from their own nation. French films about Joan of Arc, Japanese samurai films, or Chinese historical dramas all prioritize actors from their respective cultures. Yet, when it comes to Greece, this standard is dismissed. Why is it acceptable for Greek figures to be portrayed exclusively by non-Greek actors? This reveals a deeper issue: Hollywood does not value Greek representation in a way that it does for other cultures with strong cinematic industries.

3. Dismissing Greek Actors Due to Lack of "Fame" is a Circular Argument

One of the comments in the image states, “A movie with this budget is NOT going to cast a bunch of actors that are only famous in Greece. That would be box office poison.” This argument is flawed for several reasons.

First, actors from other countries have often gained international recognition precisely because Hollywood took a chance on them. Spanish, Mexican, Danish, and South Korean actors have all managed to break into Hollywood because they were given the opportunity. Pedro Pascal, Antonio Banderas, and Mads Mikkelsen, for example, were not widely known in Hollywood before getting roles in major productions. The same chance is rarely given to Greek actors, which keeps them from gaining international recognition.

Second, casting unknown or lesser-known actors has never stopped films from succeeding. Many successful films have been led by relatively unknown actors who rose to fame through their roles. The argument that Greek actors shouldn’t be considered simply because they aren’t already famous ignores how fame is created in the first place—through opportunity.

4. Indifference as a Form of Complicity

Another issue evident in the comments is the attitude of “It doesn’t matter, the director will cast who he wants, just deal with it.” This dismissive mindset contributes to the problem. People who do not experience cultural erasure firsthand may not see the issue, but that does not mean it does not exist.

Many defenders of Hollywood’s casting choices are often those who are unaffected by these decisions. They do not have to watch their own history be continuously told through the faces and voices of others. It is easy to say, “I don’t know any Greek actors,” but that is precisely the issue—Greek actors are not given the chance to be known. The lack of familiarity is not a justification; it is a symptom of an exclusionary system.

If a Greek production were to make a film about Norse mythology but cast only Greek actors, there would likely be outrage from international audiences. The same applies to other cultural stories. Yet, when it comes to Greece, the expectation is that Greeks should simply accept being excluded from their own narratives.

5.

The solution is not to suggest that only Greek actors should play Greek roles, but rather to recognize that Greek actors are systematically excluded from even being considered. There is no reason why Hollywood productions about Greek mythology cannot include Greek actors in major roles. Doing so would not harm box office performance—it would only enhance authenticity and representation.

Studios must take responsibility for broadening their casting choices, and audiences should demand more authentic representation. Change starts with awareness, and the first step is recognizing that dismissing the problem does not make it disappear, it only allows it to continue.

[bitethedevil]

Why does Raphael hate Mephistopheles and why does he live in Avernus?: Raphael as an outcast

(It has been a little while since my last analysis post. I would like to remind everyone that what I’m talking about is purely my own theories and I always love to hear other people’s thoughts on them no matter if you agree or not <3.)

As we know, Raphael lives in Avernus and not in Cania where Mephistopheles rules. All devils essentially somehow serve an archdevil. The Nine Hells is a super hierarchical place and everyone below the archdevils are basically little worker bees who live to serve their respective archdevils in one way or another.

Raphael collects souls, so one can expect that his job is to some extent to harvest souls for whoever is above him. One would expect that the archdevil he serves is Mephistopheles, but he indirectly helps us rob his father of quite a lot of souls by telling us about Cazador's ritual. That seems like an incredibly stupid and risky move if he worked for Mephistopheles, so I am not quite sold on the fact that he serves his dear old papa.

We know from the Archivist that Zariel’s people keep a bit of an eye on him and comes and goes in his house. Given he also lives in Avernus, it would make more sense that he is forced to serve Zariel at least to some extent. My money is on the idea that his official superior (or his boss, if you will) is Zariel and not Mephistopheles, though I think he might have once served Meph.

Here is a super interesting piece of information that I found about Avernus (this is from the Fiendish Codex II):

“Avernus is home to the outcasts of Baator, also known as ‘the rabble of devilkin.’ Few lesser devils survive more than a few moments as outcasts, so this group is composed almost exclusively of unique devils who are equals of any duke.”

My theory is that Raphael is an outcast and that’s why he’s in Avernus. Perhaps his father got tired of him and got rid of him, fully thinking that he would not survive. I am almost certain that cambions would fall under the ‘lesser devils’ category, or at the very least they are not on the level of dukes. I feel like it’s also often said that Raphael is pretty OP compared to a simple cambion, which is most likely the only reason he has survived (I’ve also heard people talk about him as a duke, which fits into this little theory as well).

There’s more though, and this is where it gets really kind of speculative:

“Some outcast devils, such as Azazel and Dagon, have been stripped of their original names to reduce the chances that they will be summoned to the Material Plane.”

Now, Raphael is a cambion, so he can move between planes regardless, but it would still be a very shitty and dehumanizing thing to strip someone of their name. Mephistopheles being Mephistopheles probably would do something like that if he was pissed at someone.

I have always thought a lot about his name. “Raphael” is a name that we would mostly associate with angels, and not devils. It furthermore does not really sound like any other devil names I’ve come across. It literally means “God’s healer” or something along those lines.

Wouldn’t it be so in character for his dramatic ass, who loves to play human and to play benevolent savior, to choose an angel name for himself? At the Last Light Inn, he literally says that Mol would not believe that he’s a devil because of his “angelic complexion”.

Finally, there’s this:

“Treacherous and scheming, the outcast dukes constantly seek ways to either reclaim their former positions or ranks in the Nine Hells or to destroy or displace the current order. […] Either way, they serve as important pawns between feuding archdukes and dukes.”

Now that definitely sounds like someone we know. I would very much say that wanting the Crown of Karsus to take over the Hells falls under “destroying or displacing the current order”. However, Raphael still has mentions of his father around his house and he has a portal to Cania.

It would not surprise me that Mephistopheles started to show interest in him again after he survived and thrived in Avernus. It would also not surprise me if Raphael, despite all the hate for what his father has done to him, licks Mephistopheles boots to gain favor with him behind closed doors (or at the very least to gain information to give to Zariel behind his father’s back).

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[rafiknyclassical]

IMHO Nothing beats a nonet except an orchestra.

Louise Farrenc (1804 – 1875) - Nonet in E-flat major, Op. 38 (1849) For Violin, Viola, Cello, Bass, Flute, Oboe, Clarinet, Horn & Bassoon

1. Adagio - Allegro (0:00) 2. Andante con moto (12:28) 3. Scherzo. Vivace (20:17) 4. Adagio - Allegro (25:04)

Minerva Chamber Ensemble conducted by Kevin Geraldi

[moonsandloons]

An analysis of Moonflower and the owners of Gardenview:

Dandy x Astro, our favorite toxic yaoi couple. Even if you see them as just friends, you’ve got to admit, their dynamic is ripe with potential.

Then there’s Arthur and Delilah, two lesser known Dandy’s World characters. For those who don’t know, Delilah and Arthur took out a loan together and started Gardenview Educational Center. They are the owners of the building and (supposedly) created the toons as well.

But I wonder, could their relationship be a parallel to Dandy and Astro’s? Let’s talk about it!

Astro and Dandy have been close since the beginning. They were two of the first toons, created along with the other mains in 1988.

Not only that, but they seem to have been friends in the show as well. Even if you don’t ship them, it’s clear that they were close with each other.

Arthur and Delilah also seem to be close friends. The first interaction we get between them is when they sign a loan together in 1984, presumably the money they use to start Gardenview. While a loan isn’t very interesting, you probably wouldn’t want to sign a loan with any random person on the street, so they were probably pretty close even before then.

Arthur doesn’t fully understand what Delilah is doing or how she brings the toons to life, but he trusts her. They’ve seemingly been friends for a while, and he really, truly trusts her. She’s never failed him before!

And then the issues arise. After a while, things begin to change. Dandy starts acting differently, and so does Delilah. In 2002, Gardenview is shut down due to lack of regulations as well as something called the “malfunction incident.” When questioned about these things, Arthur remained quiet, and there’s no mention of Delilah being questioned at all.

She stays completely quiet about everything. It seems the only person she talks to about it is Arthur, and even then, she denies knowing anything about it. He asks and asks to talk with her again, but it’s unclear if she ever fulfills that request.

The language he uses here is especially interesting to me. He seems suspicious of her, frustrated and confused. But it almost seems like he’s nervous about calling her out, he’s hurt that she didn’t talk to him. He seems less angry at her and more concerned or worried. His tone is demanding, as if he’s had enough, but it’s not bossy. He’s still polite, almost friendly as he asks to speak with her again.

Before, their letters seemed busy, rushed, hasty. They were too busy running Gardenview to send emails or have long conversations in person, scrawling silly notes and messages to each other instead. Delilah seemed demanding of him, ordering him to bring her more coffee and send her more reference pictures, but it didn’t seem malicious then.

Now though, Gardenview is closed. Arthur has all the time in the world to compose a nervous letter to her, questioning their friendship and if she’s trustworthy. Before he blindly trusted her, but now he finally realizes something is wrong. He’s not hurriedly scrawling a letter and dropping it by her office because he’s too busy to talk in person, he’s writing to her because he doesn’t feel like he can talk to her. Their friendship is falling apart.

Doesn’t all of this sound familiar? It sounds just like Astor and Dandy’s relationship, starting as friends (or lovers) and slowly falling apart.

Astro only mentions Dandy by name once, in his dialogue with Pebble. He says he’s worried about Dandy. However, there is one more interesting piece of dialogue, his dialogue with Teagan.

Teagan: "Astro, are you still talking with... Him?"

Astro: "Yes... well, sometimes... not as often..."

Teagan: "Goodness Astro, you need to make up your mind!"

Astro: "...Sorry."

Now, many people think the “Him” is Dandy, and i agree. It doesn’t really make sense for it to be anybody else, unless it’s a character we haven’t been introduced to, but that would be kind of dumb.

This shows that Astro still feels some attachment to him. He knows he shouldn’t be talking to Dandy anymore, but after all the time they’ve spent together (and all the manipulation, probably) he just can’t bring himself to cut ties completely, similar to Arthur.

Another interesting thing is the requirements you need to fulfill to buy Astro. To buy Astro, you have to have seen twisted Dandy. To BE Astro, you have to have seen twisted Dandy. Which makes me wonder: is that important to the lore? Has Astro actually seen Dandy in his twisted form? And if so, how much does he truly know? Does he understand the full extent of what he saw? Or is that why he’s so worried about Dandy, because he’s seen his true form and doesn’t understand why the person he’s been friends with for so long is now suddenly so different, why Dandy is suddenly hiding things from him.

That all ties back in to Arthur and Delilah as well. Arthur references how Delilah “had to have known something like this could have happened to him.” Yet another mysterious him, and I wonder: Could Arthur have seen twisted Dandy as well? Maybe that’s what he’s referring to in his letter. Delilah built the toons, she owns the building, she oversees everything! And if Arthur couldn’t explain what was happening, there’s only one person who could.

This leads into a theory I’ve mentioned before: Dandy wasn’t the true mastermind behind the ichor operation. Once, he was normal, he was kind. But Delilah, his creator, basically a god to him, began to corrupt him with ichor and turn him into a twisted. Perhaps they even worked together. After all, how would Dandy know how to corrupt everybody by himself? How would he get his hands on this mysterious “ichor”? With the help of a human.

The relationship shipping potential here is amazing! Imagine the struggle Astro would go through, the struggle of knowing that his lover, the one person who had been with him through it all had been corrupted by a monster. And what if the real Dandy is still in there somewhere? Watching helplessly as his body worked on its own, hurting everyone he loved.

Even if you don’t like shipping it’s tragic! Poor Astro, having to decide between his best friend’s trust and everyone else’s safety. Maybe that’s why the game references him frowning so much, he keeps worrying about Dandy, to the point he can’t even put a smile on for the kids. And poor Arthur as well: I can’t help but wonder what happened to him. Did he cut ties with Delilah? Did she manipulate her way back into his life? Is he even alive?

Let me know what you all think, I never see anyone talk about this and it drives me crazy! Arthur and Delilah are such clear parallels to Dandy and Astro, their names even start with the same letters!

[spitefulsatanfics]

┌───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┐

T H E L I B R A R Y C A R D R U L E

└───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┘

❝ I lie... all the time. That’s kind of my thing. But I’m not lying now. ❞

— Sam Winchester (Season 7, Episode 8)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (She/Her) Word Count: 4,210 Tone: Cozy Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Accidental Truth Spell Rating: T (Soft romantic dialogue, fluff, light cursing, established relationship) Written by: Little Devil ♡ Based On: Mid-Late Seasons (Season 9–10 Bunker Era)

Synopsis:

What starts as a quiet evening cataloging the Men of Letters’ lesser-known arcane texts turns into something far more revealing when a truth spell is accidentally triggered. For the next 24 hours, neither Sam nor Y/N can lie—not even a little. Sam’s determined to stay composed, but Y/N’s teasing questions and curious heart start tugging at secrets he’s never quite been brave enough to say aloud. In the warm silence of the bunker’s library, truth becomes the safest place of all.

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

The library always smelled like cedar and something old—like time itself had soaked into the spine of every book.

She loved that.

Even after living in the bunker for nearly a year—having long passed the "guest hunter" phase and become something of a second shadow beside Sam—there was something sacred about the library that never lost its magic. Especially at night. Especially when it was just the two of them.

The warm lamplight glowed over rows of dusty tomes, the air hushed except for the soft rustle of pages turning. Somewhere above them, a pipe ticked as the bunker settled into the quiet hours. She sat cross-legged at the end of the long oak table, a pile of uncategorized books to her left and her fourth cup of tea to her right.

Sam was across from her, leaning back slightly in his chair, sleeves rolled up, the veins in his forearms catching shadows as he jotted notes into a leather-bound ledger.

“Found another one with Enochian scribbles,” she mumbled, nudging a faded brown volume toward him.

Sam took it with a small smile. “Keep this up and we’ll actually make a dent in this section before the end of the decade.”

She grinned. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He chuckled softly, and it hit her again—how easy things had become with him. They didn’t need to talk much. They didn’t need to explain themselves. When Sam passed her his mug because he knew she liked the last sip of coffee, or when she handed him the last ginger snap without making it a thing—those moments had built something steady. Something simple. Something that felt, on her better days, a lot like home.

But tonight?

Tonight was going to be different.

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

The book had no title. Just a mottled emerald cover, bound in soft leather and etched with an unfamiliar sigil across the front.

“Found this wedged behind the radiator,” she said, handing it to Sam. “Thought it might be cursed. Smells like cinnamon and despair.”

He chuckled but took it with cautious fingers. “Latin, mostly… though this symbol looks like an old Babylonian glyph. Might be early Mesopotamian cross-translation magic.”

“Of course you’d know that.”

“I’m a nerd.”

“You’re my nerd.”

Sam’s eyes flicked up. He tried to suppress the smile, but failed.

She stretched out in her seat, arms high over her head, and cracked her spine. “I vote we call it a night in fifteen. I can feel my frontal lobe rebelling.”

“Just let me finish skimming this—” Sam paused. His brow furrowed. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I think this is a truth spell.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “As in ‘can’t lie’?”

“Yeah. This passage talks about invoking Veritas Lux—‘truth light’—to strip deception from conversation.”

“Well, that’s unsettling.”

Sam frowned. “I don’t think it’s active or anything. It would need to be triggered.”

At that moment, a strange pulse rolled through the table—a faint hum, like something catching on a string inside her chest. The lights flickered, once. The air shifted.

She blinked. “...Sam?”

He looked up slowly. “I didn’t touch anything. I swear.”

��You so touched something.”

“No. I swear on Dean’s favorite leather jacket.”

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“That definitely means you’re telling the truth.”

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

The first fifteen minutes weren’t so bad.

They tested the spell by asking stupid things like, “Is Dean your favorite brother?” and “Have you ever seen me trip over that rug in the war room?”

(Answers: “I plead the fifth” and “Twice. You tried to pretend it was a dance move.”)

The real problems started when they forgot not to banter.

“So,” she said, propping her chin on her hand, “hypothetically, if I asked something… more personal. Would you be forced to answer?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Define personal.”

“I don’t know.” She twirled her pen. “Like, have you ever thought about kissing me in the stacks?”

He froze.

His mouth opened, then closed.

Her grin widened.

“Sam?”

He exhaled. “Yes.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“I think about it a lot.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Her stomach flipped in a way that made her feel about seventeen. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and tried to hide it behind mock surprise.

“Well. Guess that settles that theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you might be too respectful to ever make a move.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not wrong.”

Sam looked at her then—really looked—and there was something in his expression that made her want to shrink and reach for him all at once.

“I didn’t say anything,” he murmured, “because I didn’t want to screw this up.”

Her voice was quiet. “You think you could?”

He swallowed. “I know I could. But right now, thanks to this damn spell, I’m dangerously close to telling you that I—”

He stopped.

“Sam?”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “This is such a bad idea.”

She reached across the table, her fingers grazing his.

“But you do feel something.”

His thumb brushed over hers, soft and nervous. “More than I’ve let myself admit.”

“Then let it.”

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

They didn’t leave the library.

Not for hours.

Sam had tugged her closer, sitting side by side on the old velvet couch that creaked under their weight. The silence between them wasn’t tense—it was warm. Comforting. Full of unspoken years.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and he sighed into her hair.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Next truth.”

He smiled against her temple. “Bring it.”

“What’s something about me you’ve never said out loud?”

Sam was quiet for a moment. Then:

“I notice when you wear your hair different. I pretend I don’t. But I do.”

She smiled.

“Sometimes, I check your coffee cup when you’re done just to see how much sugar you used. I like knowing little things about you.”

Her heart did a slow, warm flip.

“I keep hoping you’ll never leave,” he whispered. “Even when the case is done.”

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes.

“I don’t plan to.”

Sam reached up, brushing a thumb across her cheek.

“I love you,” he said. Quiet. Honest. Unshaken.

The truth spell hummed between them.

She leaned in. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And this time, it wasn’t a confession forced by magic. It was just real.

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

They woke tangled on the couch the next morning, the spell long since faded, the book closed between two forgotten stacks.

Dean found them hours later, groaning about “library makeout sessions” and “using coasters, damn it.”

But Sam didn’t move.

He just pulled her closer and whispered into her hair, “No more spells required.”

She smiled against his chest.

“No more hiding.”

┌───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┐

E N D

└───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┘

[theantarwitch]

Alchemy, the untouched friend of Witchcraft

If there is something interesting that is nearly not used on mostly of the witch community, is Alchemy, and is something from which we could take some few useful stuffs.

As always, disclaimer first, I’m not an expert on the subject and I barely if I read a couple of books about the topic (from another 10 untouched ones lol), so as always in life, take what I say with tweezers. This is meant to be a light superficial view to open a door of possibilities in a mix of Witchcraft and Alchemy, is not a thesis. Saying that, to the core of the question.

Alchemy use elements. A lot of them.

The three primes or Tria Prima (the basic 3 materials): Sulfur (Related to the Soul and the principle of combustibility, so it has volatility, can burn, explode, combust), Mercury (Related to the Spirit, the principle of fusibility so the material can be fused together and volatility so a substance vaporizes), and Salt (Relate to the Body, the principle of non-combustibility and non-volatility).

Our beloved Four basic Elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water.

The Seven Metals associated with the seven classical planets: Lead, corresponding with Saturn. Tin, corresponding with Jupiter. Iron, corresponding with Mars. Gold, corresponding with the Sun. Copper, corresponding with Venus. Mercury, corresponding with Mercury. Silver, corresponding with the Moon.

The 13 Mundane Elements and Later Metals: Antimony, Arsenic, Bismuth, Cobalt, Magnesium, Manganese, Nickel, Oxygen, Phlogiston, Phosphorus, Platinum, Sulfur, Zinc (All of them with a lot of interesting properties and functions, in and out the alchemy world).

The 10 Alchemical Compounds: Acid, Sal ammoniac, Aqua fortis, Aqua regia, Aqua vitae, Amalgam, Cinnabar, Vinegar, Vitriol, Brimstone (All of them also with amazing properties).

And what interesting me the most (at least to my way to do witchcraft), The 12 Alchemical Processes:

Calcination (Aries): The thermal treatment of a solid to removing impurities or volatile substances.

Congelation (Taurus): Term used in medieval and early modern alchemy for the process known today as crystallization. Process by which a solid form into a structure known as a crystal, by precipitating from a solution or freezing.

Fixation (Gemini): Process by which a previously volatile substance is "transformed" into a form (often solid) that is not affected by fire.

Solution (Cancer): Homogeneous mixture composed of two or more substances. In such a mixture, a solute is a substance dissolved in another substance, known as a solvent.

Digestion (Leo): A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks.

Distillation (Virgo): Separating the components or substances from a liquid mixture by using selective boiling and condensation.

Sublimation (Libra): The transition of a substance directly from the solid to the gas state, without passing through the liquid state.

Separation (Scorpio): Converts a mixture or solution of chemical substances into two or more distinct product mixtures. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity.

Ceration (Sagittarius): Chemical process, by continuously adding a liquid by imbibition to a hard, dry substance while it is heated. Typically, this treatment makes the substance softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction (Capricorn): A metabolic process that produces chemical changes in organic substrates through the action of enzymes/ Decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion.

Multiplication (Aquarius): Process to increase the potency of the elixir or projection powder, in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection.

Projection (Pisces): Process to transmute a lesser substance into a higher form; often lead into gold.

Damn, alchemy even have symbols to Units: Month, Day, Hour, Dram (Unit of mass between 1 and 3 grams), Half Dram, Ounce (Unit of mass, weight or volume of 28 grams, Half Ounce, Scruple (1 grams), Pound (500 grams).

So just with this simple 2 pages of basic Wikipedia info, we have a ton of new things to use. Everything here has specific properties, some more physical and chemical oriented, but others (like the 3 Tria Prima and The 12 Alchemical Processes) have a lot of correspondences with the witch life itself.

The 12 Alchemical Processes could be absolutely used to represent an desired outcome.

Calcination uses thermal treatment, so it can boost the Fire element of a spell. It also “removing impurities or volatile substances”, so can be applied to generate a mild fever to get rid off the flu, or to boost the organs that clean the body (kidneys and liver mostly)

Congelation turns a solid by freezing, can boost the Water element, so all the “freezer spells” can be boosted with this.

Fixation? A volatile substance is transformed into a solid form? Sound pretty much to grounding, or to help to focus an ADHD head as mine, or to put down to earth someone who is VOLATILE AND VIOLENT. Also, Earth element.

Solution? Homogeneous mixture of two or more substances? It sounds like an aid to make two people on conflict to get into an agreement, or to boost a new business by mixing the opportunities with the action. Air element.

Digestion. A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks? It sounds like something that can help any process that need digestion (bad news must be “digested”, hard choices must be “consulted with the pillow”), and the “gentle heat” sounds comforting. Someone is grieving? Maybe Digestion can help them to overcome the awful times.

Distillation. Separating the components or substances. Anything that need to be separated can be helped with this. Relationships that must end, breakups, cut the ties with older things or habits.

Sublimation. The transition of a substance. I heard trans rights? Can this maybe help with your hormones? Or even to transition from what you previously left behind with the distillation, to focus in a new better future.

Separation. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity. How to choose from two or more choices? How to pick the better one? The one with purity? Separation maid aid.

Ceration. A hard, dry is heated to make it softer. Make that person less frigid, make the boss less bitchy, make your chronic pain less hurtful, make your bills less heavy, all that you can think in make softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction. I personally love this one. Produces changes in organic substrates and decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion. Prime element to curses. All what you want to rid off in the most disgusting way. May their flesh get rotten under a car in a hot summer.

Multiplication. Process to increase the potency of the elixir in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection. MONEY MONEY MAKE MORE MONEY, all what need to be increased and all what you want to multiply, go go go!

Projection. Transmute a lesser substance into a higher form “lead into gold”. Perfect to get better as a person, to learn to adapt, accept, to grow compassion, love, etc.

At this you can add the Units, the metals and mundane elements, the 4 elements, the tria prima, your crystals and herbs and sigils and all. And your spells will be filled with components and correspondences.

What’s better, a lot of the physical elements are not too hard to get (some yes, they are, but you are not here to make lead into gold with a full set of chemistry), but alchemy use a lot of symbology, so even if you don’t have the physical element, you can use their properties with the symbol, just as any other sigil.

Salt is easy. Tin in a food can. Antimony in mostly all the rocks. Arsenic in apple seeds (technically no but still). Cobalt and Manganese basically everywhere. Magnesium in your own body. Nickel in coins. Oxygen in the air., Phosphorus, Zinc and Sulfur in food. Acid in anything acid lol. Aqua vitae in alcohol (especially Whisky). Vinegar in vinegars.

Long story short, if you feel that maybe you are lacking something, check some books about alchemy would maybe help. Don’t pick super chemical specific pro books and don’t be discouraged by the terms, pick what can be useful to you, and I hope this open some doors and bring more curiosity about this amazing topic.

[xkiralix]

The Divine Creator

Chapter 3 Chapter 4

The journey from Mondstadt to Liyue had been uneventful, though (Name) found himself oddly soothed by the rhythm of his own footsteps. The wind carried whispers—prayers, pleas, the distant hum of his acolytes’ frantic searching—but he ignored them. He had no intention of revealing himself yet, not when his bones ached with the frailty of a human body.

He needed to wait, he wouldn’t want to be weak before them.

Liyue Harbor sprawled before him in all its golden glory, a city of commerce and contracts, of stone and salt-kissed air. The scent of spices and simmering broth wafted through the streets, drawing him toward Wanmin Restaurant. His stomach growled, avulgar reminder of mortality.

Xiangling was behind the counter, her usual exuberant self, animatedly discussing ingredients with a customer. When (Name) approached, she beamed at him.

“Welcome! First time in Liyue? You’ve gotta try our specialty—the Black-Back Perch Stew! Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, I’ve got a new Jueyun Chili-infused—”

“The stew will be fine,” (Name) said, offering a small smile. Hunger gnawed at him, bitter and unfamiliar. As he waited, the chair beside him scraped against the stone floor. A familiar figure settled in—tall, composed, golden eyes glinting with quiet observation.

Zhongli.

(Name) didn’t react, though his fingers twitched imperceptibly against the table. Of course he would be here.

“A traveler, I presume?” Zhongli’s voice was smooth, measured. His gaze swept over (Name)’s attire, lingering on the faint dust of roads not native to Liyue. “You don’t carry the weariness of a merchant, nor the urgency of an adventurer.”

(Name) chuckled, feigning nonchalance. “Just passing through. Liyue’s beauty is worth the detour.”

Zhongli hummed, sipping his tea. “Indeed. Though beauty often conceals deeper truths.” His gaze lingered a second too long. “You have an… unusual presence.”

Damn it.

(Name) kept his expression neutral. “Do I? Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Traveling does that.”

Zhongli didn’t press, but the weight of his scrutiny settled like a stone in (Name)’s throat. Before the conversation could continue, the restaurant’s door swung open. A familiar blond-haired traveler stepped in, Paimon floating beside him.

“Xiangling! We’re back—oh!” Aether’s eyes flickered to Zhongli. “Ah, Mr. Zhongli, we meet again so soon.” He approached, then noticed (Name). crease formed between his brows. “And you are?”

(Name) turned, meeting the traveler’s gaze. The hero of Teyvat, who’d once been his pawn in another life. “Just mister is fine,” he said, smiling slightly. “You must be the renowned Traveler.”

Aether nodded. “Yes, though I didn’t introduce myself properly—”

(Name) waved a hand. “No need.”

Xiangling bustled over to take Zhongli’s, Aether’s, and Paimon’s orders. The meal passed smoothly, until the conversation veered into Liyue’s history. (Name) and Zhongli debated archaic trade laws, the Archon War’s lesser-known battles, even the texture of Rex Lapis’s scales—details no mortal should know.

Zhongli's fingers traced the rim of his teacup. "You mentioned the 'scent of glaze lilies in the Assembly's final hours.'' His voice was deceptively mild. "An odd detail for a historian to know. Even texts from that era omit it."

(Name) stiffened. Shit. He'd let nostalgia color his words."Poetic license," he deflected, swirling his stew. "Unless you were there, Mr. Zhongli?" A beat of silence.

Zhongli's smile didn't reach his eyes. "One could ask you the same… you speak of these events as if you witnessed them.” His voice was light, but his eyes were sharp as a blade.*

(Name)’s pulse stuttered. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? “I’m a history enthusiast,” he lied.

Aether’s spoon froze mid-air.

Across the room, the door creaked.

Wanderer didn't move, but the air thickened. The Vision at his hip flickered violet, casting jagged shadows. (Name) knew that look-the same one the puppet had worn when executing traitors. Then, with a laugh too sharp to be genuine, Wanderer turned to Xiangling.

"One extra-spicy dish, please. I'm in the mood for... burning things." His gaze cut back to (Name). "Isn't that right, mister?"

"Since when does he eat spicy food?" Paimon muttered. Aether said nothing.

The stranger's face had gone pale as a corpse.

Shit.

(Name) exhaled slowly. Pathetic. He couldn’t even hide for a few weeks

Wanderer’s lips curled, just slightly.

Found you.

After that it was quite noticeable that (Name) quite literally stuffed the food into his mouth, hurrying to leave.

Your grace

Ethan

Useless child

where are your manners?

(Name) said his goodbyes and hurried to leave, his heart almost breaking his ribcage to leave and hide, his lungs suddenly feeling claustrophobic. An ugly sensation forming itself on his stomach and his head being hit by a pathetic voice that once brought comfort.

Very coincidentally after a few minutes of wondering around the streets of Liyue he felt the wind change, the steps of the lord of geo getting closer to him like how a tiger would with his prey.

Zhongli faked a surprised expression. “It seems we meet again.”

(Name) stared at him and forced a smile out of his lips, unnoticeable after centuries of doing so in the past.

"The stars over Liyue are clear tonight," Zhongli remarked, falling into step beside him. "Though I suspect you've seen them from... higher up."

(Name) forced a laugh, knowing where he wanted to take the conversation. "I'm just a traveler."

"Funny. So was I." Zhongli paused. "Tell me—what do you know of the Creator's favorite constellation?"

Fuck you.