#I haven’t actually finished vengeance of the stones yet

[jimmyandthegiraffes]

Thinking about how Mike must have met the doctor and the brig just after spearhead from space since he was tasked with cleanup, but also that vengeance of the stones must also have taken place right after spearhead which is really funny because it’s like. Mike gets into UNIT by getting kidnapped and tortured by aliens, sees some pretty wild shit after having thought UNIT was maybe a bit silly the way Liz did at first too, still wants to join UNIT afterwards, and then is immediately put on cleanup duty.

Mike in the early 70s*, surrounded by disintegrated plastic, mounds of paperwork, and a list of phone calls to angry government types as long as his arm: this is not what I signed up for :/

But also it means that Mike and Liz could conceivably have met and in fact probably did. Im of the opinion that unit is really not a large organisation and they probably ran into each other a lot

#*or whenever. to me the eps take place when they were made #the only unit dating controversy I know is the polycule #doctor who #I haven’t actually finished vengeance of the stones yet #mike yates #liz shaw

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Four

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: a short update resolving where we left off last week, to be soon followed by another gwynriel bonus scene. after that i am never going off the tracks of my fic outline ever again.

***

Nesta is going to commit murder. She really is.

Gwyn is the first to hop out of bed, rapidly tugging her T-shirt down to cover her bare girl parts. “I can explain—” she starts.

“You.” Nesta points at Azriel, who’s still sitting shirtless and confused. “You. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Be more specific.” Azriel slides off the bed and picks up a pair of panties from the ground, trying to hand them to Gwyn. Gwyn smacks his hand away, but the sight enrages Nesta all the same.

She nods to herself, her thoughts whirling. “Actually, I’m really glad you’re here,” she says. “I was considering sparing you, but now my mind is made up.” She rushes at Azriel without warning.

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” Gwyn jumps in front of a wide-eyed Azriel, arms outstretched to fend Nesta off.

Nesta reaches past Gwyn’s shoulder and jumps, trying to grab Azriel, hit him, anything. “My sister and my best friend?” she seethes, batting at him. “My sister and my best friend?”

“The hell are you going on about?” Azriel snaps over Gwyn’s head.

“You really have no shame, do you?” Nesta succeeds in pushing Gwyn out of her way, and comes up chest to chest with Azriel, all fiery glares. “You think you can get away with whatever you want because you’re the cool uncaring one, and you probably can, but not with me. We’re the same person, jackass.”

Before Azriel can respond, slim arms grab Nesta around the waist and start dragging her backwards into the hallway. Gwyn lets go of Nesta and slams the door shut after them, leaving Azriel inside the room alone.

“This is way too much for me to be doing without underwear!” Gwyn yells at her. “Will you please explain yourself?”

“What do I have to explain? He should be explaining himself!” Nesta flings her arm toward the bedroom. It’s not like Azriel is any random hookup of Elain’s. He’s also Nesta’s friend, and Nesta expected better from him.

Gwyn drops her head and rubs her freckled temples in exhaustion. “It’s not like I wasn’t there, too. Are you even going to ask why we were together? Do you have any questions at all, or are you just going to break into my home and assume he took advantage of me?”

Nesta shuts her mouth. She didn’t ask any questions, did she? She hasn’t even considered Gwyn’s part in this.

She clears her throat, her voice strained from shouting. “I thought you were at work.”

“Clearly I’m not.” Gwyn crosses her arms, then immediately drops them to readjust her short T-shirt.

Nesta bites. “Why? How? Since when did you guys even talk to each other?” Even after catching Azriel flirting on their ski trip, Nesta couldn’t have predicted that he and Gwyn would end up here. It’s far too much of a leap.

“It’s really not what you think it is.” Gwyn twists a piece of ruddy hair between her fingers. “He’s just… helping me get back into the dating pool. We made an agreement, and he’s doing me a huge favor.”

Nesta’s jaw drops. “By eating you out?”

Gwyn’s teal eyes meet hers. “I can’t ever have a chance with Max if I freak out when he eventually tries to take my clothes off. Especially when I want him to take my clothes off. So I decided after the ski lodge that I needed to get comfortable with sex again, and I… recruited Az to help.” She shrugs like it’s nothing.

Nesta is left with more questions than before. “So,” she holds up a hand, “the thought of doing it with Azriel doesn’t scare you? Not even a little?”

Gwyn scoffs. “If I didn’t know him from elementary school, then it probably would. Unfortunately, I’ve firsthand seen the guy shove crayons up his nose.” She casts a glance toward the bedroom door and lowers her voice. “And I honestly don’t have any proof that he doesn’t still do it.”

That’s—unfortunately understandable. It also explains why Azriel has been comfortable with Gwyn from the start, though Nesta doesn’t know why Gwyn didn’t tell anyone about their shared history.

“Look, Nesta, I know he’s your roommate,” Gwyn continues, “but I think you overreacted a little back there.”

Right. Does Gwyn even know about Azriel and Elain? “It wasn’t because of you,” Nesta tries to explain. “It was because—”

Before she can finish, the door clicks open and Azriel comes out, thankfully clothed in his shirt and gym shorts. He slides his hands into his pockets and says, “I’m joining before any more unflattering things can be said about me.”

Nesta’s lip curls into a sneer at the sight of him. “I wouldn’t let you run away from me anyway.” She crosses her arms and faces him down. “You agreed to teach Gwyn how to get comfortable with sex?”

The hallway is crammed now with Azriel’s height taking up most of the space, but he doesn’t seem to care as he leans against the wall and answers, “Hell yeah.”

Nesta is more than suspicious and untrusting right now, but she pauses to wonder: does Azriel know why Gwyn has such trouble with intimacy in the first place?

It’s none of her business, she decides. Except now she’s even more wary. “What do you get out of this little deal, huh? Or do you just volunteer to have sex with my friends out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I’m getting guitar lessons out of it,” he says without hesitating. “But it’s also the goodness of my heart.” He smirks.

Gwyn throws a surprised look in his direction. Nesta is more than ready to smack the smirk off his face with her bare hand, but she settles for her words instead. “What would Elain say if she knew, Azriel?”

Azriel’s face goes cold. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“I wish she didn’t,” Nesta says. “Explain why I have to comfort her when she wonders why you abandoned her without even a text message while you get to play around with my friends without a care in the world?”

Azriel might as well be made of stone. “You talked to her?”

“You’re a coward,” she hisses. “Do what you want, but know that you’re a coward until you explain yourself to her.” Nesta lets out a ragged breath and drags her stare to Gwyn.

Gwyn shakes her head quickly and raises her hands in defense. “I’m just trying to get laid. Don’t bring me into this.”

Nesta pats her arm. “Of course not, babe.” The last thing she wants is Gwyn involved with either of her sisters—which is why it would be preferable if Gwyn avoided Azriel altogether.

Gwyn lets out a big “Phew,” and cuts an unreadable look toward Azriel. He avoids her gaze.

“Let me get you a drink,” Gwyn says quickly to Nesta, starting to steer her toward the kitchen. Nesta shakes her off and steps away. “It’s okay; I’ll leave now. Also, I can see your—” She waves at Gwyn’s lower half.

Gwyn chuckles awkwardly and tugs her shirt back down, her cheeks flaring red. “I’ll go get your sweater.” She rushes back inside her room, leaving Nesta and Azriel alone in the hall.

Azriel says nothing, but Nesta stares him down until Gwyn returns wearing a pair of shorts and carrying Nesta’s sweater. “Here, I already washed it for you.”

Nesta breaks her gaze with Azriel to take her sweater. “Sorry for breaking into your room,” she tells Gwyn. “I didn’t mean to ruin your…” She nearly gags trying to finish her sentence, so she doesn’t bother. Instead, she turns back to Azriel. “I’m excited to see how those guitar lessons pay off. You’ll give us all a performance when this is over, hm?”

He doesn’t bother responding, and Nesta takes her leave.

***

“I still can’t believe him,” Nesta is grumbling while she and Cassian get ready for bed. “How long is he going to stay in the reading nook like that? I can’t get to my books and he knows it.”

“He’s punishing himself since you won’t,” Cassian says as he towels off his damp hair. Water droplets speckle his bare chest. “He won’t go back to his room as long as he feels guilty about Elain.”

Once Nesta decided that getting vengeance for Elain’s broken heart would do more harm to the cabin ecosystem than good, she chose to contain her anger at Azriel by pretending that he simply didn’t exist. As for Azriel… Azriel has been sleeping on the loveseat in the upstairs reading nook for the past five days. The two of them haven’t spoken since Nesta caught him in Gwyn’s bedroom.

Cassian himself has many thoughts about the choices Azriel has been making lately, and a part of him knows it would be easier for everybody if he just forced Az’s sorry ass back to Velaris. But Nesta is involved in this, too, and she has yet to give the order to kick Azriel out. Rather, she seems content to either ignore him or to burn judgmental stares into him.

Out of love for Azriel, Cassian can’t help but be relieved.

Nesta scoffs in response to Cassian, slathering lotion onto her legs. “Bullshit. He’s punishing me by taking away my reading nook, the bastard.” Done with her legs, she searches around the bed for her glasses, squinting because she can’t see a thing.

Withholding his amusement, Cassian goes over to her and plucks her glasses from the top of her head, sliding them onto her face. She blinks and gives a rare smile up at him when she realizes she can see again, then soon frowns as she casts her gaze about the room. “Where’s my book? Did I leave it at home again?”

Cassian knows Nesta calls the apartment home out of old habit, but it still makes jealousy sting in his chest. “I’ll get you another one,” he offers. “What do you want?”

She gives him the title for something that has to do with erotic Vikings that he immediately recognizes. It’s on the top shelf in the reading nook. He promises to return with the book.

The rest of the cabin is dark by now, but Az is still wide awake and staring up at the wooden beams that criss-cross the ceiling when Cassian sneaks into the nook. Moonlight coming in through the glass door leading to the balcony illuminates both of them.

Cassian doesn’t know whether to feel exhausted or irritated, so he passes by his brother without a word to look for the book.

He already confronted Azriel earlier about what the hell was wrong with him, and got nothing out of the man. Not even an apology. At which point Cassian wanted to beat some sense into him the way they used to during their school days, but restrained himself through some godly miracle.

He’s trying—really trying—not to shove his nose into Azriel’s decisions like that. If he does, he’ll end up being just as bad as Rhys.

Finding the worn paperback boasting a shirtless Nordic god on the cover, Cassian turns to leave.

“You know Nesta can get her books herself, right?” Az’s voice sounds velvety in the darkness.

Cassian bristles. “Don’t start.”

“You mad at me too?”

Yes, Cassian is mad. Mad that he seems to be the only brother with a working brain anymore. “When do you plan on getting your shit together?” he says.

“How?” Az replies. “By apologizing to Elain or by leaving Nesta’s friend alone?”

Cassian still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that the Gwyn who used to shy away from talking to him ran straight into Azriel’s arms for sex advice. On one hand, good for her. On the other, Cassian wishes she had less messy taste. “Both,” he grits, getting frustrated.

Az shrugs, still staring up at the ceiling. “I’m keeping my promise to Gwyn. No matter what.” He sounds nonchalant, but Cassian knows he’s serious.

His grip on the paperback tightens, because that’s still not a real answer to his question. “I warned you when you moved in that you were walking a thin line, Az. I’ve been nice for the past week, but at some point you’re gonna have to tell me why I shouldn’t kick you out right now and save myself and Nesta the headache.”

Azriel finally meets Cassian’s eyes, and his gaze is unreadable. “Do it, if that’s what you want. I don’t care.”

Cassian’s face darkens with rage. “Just watch me, then.” He leaves before he can throw the book at Azriel’s head.

Back at their bedroom, Nesta takes one look at him and asks, “What happened?”

He tosses the book onto the bed and doesn’t come any closer. “I told Azriel I’d kick him out.”

Her brow furrows in concern. “Will you go through with it?”

No. And Az knows it too, the asshole.

Cassian takes in a shallow breath. “I just want to be a good brother.” It’s why he can’t stop giving Az chances, even when it inconveniences the woman he loves. “I want to be a good brother, a good partner, a good friend. I want to be all those things at once.”

Nesta’s lip quirks up. “You’re definitely better at all that than I am.” She rests her chin on one bent knee and frowns. “What else do you want to be?”

“That’s it.” His shoulders slump. “Nothing else.”

Nesta gives an amused huff. “All those things are for other people, though. Forget me and Azriel; what do you want to be for yourself, Cassian?”

What do you want? Cassian remembers her asking him a long time ago.

That… he doesn’t have an answer for. He rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground. “I dunno,” he says, trying to sound flippant.

Looking up with a smile, he goes over to Nesta’s side of the bed and crouches at her side. “Who has time to think about all of that, anyway? I’m already happy doing exactly what I do.”

Still frowning, Nesta shifts on the bed so she can better face Cassian on the ground. “Do you really not know?” she says quietly.

Letting his smile drop, Cassian presses his lips into a wavery line.

She takes his face in her cold, thin hands, and he lowers his head onto her lap. A pounding has started up behind his eyes.

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” she says when he doesn’t speak. Her hand travels to the spot between his shoulder blades, and she pats his back in consolation. “You’ll find out. I’ll still be here when you do.”

He doesn’t lift his head, because if he does he might cry, so she keeps patting his back for a long while.

***

The next night Cassian finds himself in the kitchen, as he often does lately. The gnocchi for dinner is missing something, but he can’t tell what it is.

Swiping some pomodoro sauce from his wooden spoon with a finger, he goes over to the kitchen island and holds it out to Nesta. She licks it off his finger and says, “More cream,” before going back to her rant. “But really, does Eris want me to hurt him? Because if he keeps acting like this I’m going to physically hurt him.”

“You should do it if it makes you happy, babe,” Cassian says absentmindedly, more focused on checking the potatoes au gratin in the oven than on their conversation.

Two heavy, heart-attack worthy potato dishes on the same night, all because Nesta was in the mood for it. It sickens Cassian to think of the unhealthiness of it all, but these days it’s like he can’t stop himself from making food. It doesn’t matter whether the meal is fatty or not, as long as it tastes good enough for date nights.

By the time dinner is served and Cassian is settled in next to Nesta at the island, the topic of conversation has moved far away from Eris and law school.

“I used to be a fitness freak,” Cassian says mournfully as Nesta piles more and more cheese-covered potatoes onto his plate.

“Your abs look the same as the day I met you. You’ll be fine.”

Cassian didn’t even think about his abs. He presses a hand to his torso in worry. How long until those are gone, too?

“Eat.” Nesta shoves a fork into his hand and starts to dig into her own plate.

Cassian takes it reluctantly. “You know, this is bad for you too.” He realizes suddenly, “Have I been poisoning your health this whole time?” That’s even worse than the thought of losing his abs.

Nesta’s fork stops halfway to her mouth. The look on her face is disgusted enough to curdle milk, as if Cassian might change his mind and try to take her dinner away. She visibly swallows her feelings back and scoots closer to Cassian, spearing some of his gnocchi on her fork.

“Come on, we’ll clog our arteries together.” She pats his back the way she always does. “We’re here for a delicious time, not a long time.”

Cassian can hardly say no when he’s getting food shoved into his mouth without warning.

But despite his defeat with dinner, he’s joined by a sleepy and irritable Nesta the next morning in the home gym. She refuses to speak a word to him at such an early hour, but her compromise is loud and clear when she begins stretching and warming up. She’ll be here while he figures out whatever it is he wants to be for himself.

***

a/n: what do y’all think. is cassian overreacting, is nesta overstepping, or are they right and azriel is a menace who needs to be stopped (asking bc sometimes i cant tell when my mcs are being annoying)

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

[theladyofdeath]

In the Bleak Midwinter {18}

A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.

Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.

A/N: Oooooooooh boy.

All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.

**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.

Links & masterlists:

Fanfic Masterlist

Ask me

The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}

In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}

Rowan rode in the back of the car, right next to Cairn. He hated it, knowing full well he wanted to lash out and kill Cairn on the spot, but also knowing it would bring harm to Aelin. 

For the entirety of the ride, Rowan didn’t say a word, no matter how bad he wanted to. Cairn kept looking at him, tauntingly.

“Where’s my wife?” Rowan asked, quietly.

Cairn spun Rowan’s pistol around his finger, having already stripped him of his weapons. 

“Don’t make me ask again,” Rowan asked, in a deadly calm. 

“She’s alive,” Cairn answered, simply. 

“And unharmed?” Rowan asked, staring at his gun in Cairn’s massive, scarred hand. 

Cairn met Rowan’s gaze. “She was when I left, but that was a few hours ago. A lot can happen in the span of a few hours.” 

Rowan’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t push. He was caught somewhere between wanting to grab his gun back from Cairn and putting a bullet through his head and saying fuck the consequences or sitting still, complying to the demands he was given, and probably getting shot by the end of the night.

At least, if Rowan got shot, his family would be safe. 

At least, that was the theory. 

Rowan opened his mouth to make a retort, but Cairn cut him off. “Say one more thing, and I’ll kill you with your own fucking gun. How tragic would that be?” 

Rowan’s lips snapped shut, but the look in his eyes was worth a thousand words. 

He hated this, every moment of it. Although grateful Lucy was home with Lorcan, Maeve still had his wife, his unborn child, and every chance he had to kill one of Maeve’s men and he couldn’t, didn’t, it drove him mad. 

They eventually pulled up to a home, quite a ways from Orynth’s border. They must not have cared that Rowan was seeing it now.

Considering he wouldn’t be leaving it alive to retell the tale. 

Rowan didn’t put up a fight as Cairn opened the door, ordering him out. In fact, he was quite cordial as he followed Maeve’s first in command into the old manor. Rowan didn’t know what he had been expecting, considering the landscaping wasn’t in horrible condition, but to find every piece of furniture covered in white sheets as if the owner was on an extended-holiday was not it. 

He tried not to look too intrigued, though, as he followed Cairn through the hallways, then through the door that led down to the kitchens. 

It was freezing, and the entire place was covered in webs as if no one had bothered to dust down there in a while. Rowan tried to keep his eyes open, trying to look for any sign that Aelin had been through there, but he was only met with a stone floor, and stone walls. They walked past the kitchen, further down the hall, where no windows let in any sort of light.

Candelabras lined the walls, though, which only made Rowan nauseous as he was reminded of some sort of medieval dungeon. 

When they came to the end of the hall, and Rowan’s heart was nearly ready to beat through his chest, they halted in front of a closed door.

Cairn knocked on it, twice, and they waited.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then it swung open, and Rowan followed Cairn inside. 

Maeve was lounging behind a massive oak desk, completely unphased by the arrival of her nephew. Instead of surprise, she was smiling at him as he entered, her eyes lit with something that made Rowan’s nausea grow worse.

“Hello, nephew,” Maeve crooned. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Rowan said nothing. His lips remained closed as he stared, waiting. 

“I have to admit that I feel…” she paused, trying to decide on the perfect word. “Exhilarated. I’ve been trying for this victory for so long that I almost thought it was nothing more than a dream.” 

“You haven’t won yet,” Rowan said, simply.

Maeve snorted. “I beg to differ. The second I got Aelin Galathynius into my company - spoiled little bitch, she is - I knew I had you wrapped around my finger.”

Rowan lifted his chin.

“You are mine now, nephew,” she crooned. “You will die.”

“Where is she?” Rowan breathed. 

“Here,” Maeve answered, her voice light, which only pissed Rowan off more. 

“I want to see her,” Rowan replied, keeping his voice as calm as possible. 

“That’s not possible,” Maeve replied, without any hesitation. 

“Surely if you’re going to kill me, you’re not so cruel that I can’t say goodbye,” Rowan responded. 

“And how do you know that I’m not so cruel?” Maeve asked, humored. 

Rowan’s jaw was rigid, and for a moment, he said nothing. He stared at his aunt, at the woman he had known his whole life, at the woman he’d used to live with, used to work for, and wondered how the fuck they got to where they were now. 

He blamed it all on Arobynn Hammel. 

In one fluid motion, Rowan reached down into his boot and pulled out a small, handmade bomb that Vaughan himself had constructed, He held it close to him, his fingers hovering near the pin that held it all together. 

Everyone in the room froze, Maeve’s haughty smile finally fading away. 

“I will cooperate, under one condition,” Rowan said, slowly. “Aelin goes home. Today. Now. Safely. You can take me, have me, kill me, but my wife goes free.” 

Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “And if I say no? She’s in this building, you set that off, she dies, too.”

“So do you,” Rowan responded. “And all your men.” 

“You’re bluffing,” Maeve spat.

Rowan’s grin was one to behold. “Would you like to test that theory?” 

Maeve watched him, carefully. “Vaughan made that.”

“Yes.”

Her grin reappeared, and she shook her head, slowly. “You forget that I know you all. Very, very well.” 

Rowan said nothing, unsure of where she was going, but not liking it, not one bit.

“I’ve seen many of Vaughan’s creations through the years,” Maeve went on, leaning back in her chair. “Both those that he has made to actually take lives, and those he’s made to use as a pawn.”

Rowan stayed perfectly still, perfectly calm. “Don’t test me, Maeve.”

“Don’t lie to me, nephew,” she spat. 

The second Rowan moved, the butt of his own handgun hit him in the back of the head.

He remembered nothing after that for a long, long while.

~~~~~

“You let her take him?” Lysandra’s voice boomed through the manor.

“We had no choice,” Gavriel replied, his voice low. “What Rowan wants to do, he does, it doesn’t matter what we thought-.”

“He’s in Maeve’s hellhole!” Lysandra shouted. “She’s going to kill him!” 

Aedion was standing just behind her, softly rubbing her lower back. She stepped away, not wanting comfort. 

“We’re going to work out a plan,” Gavriel followed.

“A plan,” Lysandra repeated, mockingly. “Why does that not sound promising?” 

“Way to put your faith in us,” Gavriel growled. “I understand you’re worried-.”

“Worried?” Lysandra interrupted, laughing humorlessly. They thought she’d say something else, thought she would blow up, thought she would tear them all to shreds, but she didn’t.

She just shook her head and turned her back to all of them, then walked away. 

“She’s right.” Lorcan’s voice came quietly from the corner where Lucy was sound asleep on his shoulder. “We let him go, and we shouldn’t have.”

Gavriel said nothing. Instead, he took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, put it between his lips, and lit the tip. 

“We don’t even know where Maeve is holding them,” Fenrys said, leaning back in a chair in the dining room, his hat over his face. 

No one bothered to correct him. 

He was right. 

“Would you like to know what I think?” Natalia asked. 

All at once, they answered, “No.” 

With a scowl, she hurried out, following Lysandra. 

“I’ll go meet with Rhoe and the others,” Aedion announced. “See what we can find out. I’ll come back in a few hours to tell you what I know.”

Gavriel nodded, and Aedion was gone to tell Lysandra goodbye. 

“And what do we do?” Lorcan asked, quietly. “While we wait?”

Lorcan, Fenrys, Gavriel, and Vaughan all looked at one another, realizing that it was the first time they had ever been without Rowan, since he had been their leader. Gavriel hated to admit that he felt like he felt when they had lost Rowan’s father. But, they wouldn’t vote on a new leader, not yet.

Rowan’s fight was not finished. 

It wouldn’t be finished. 

He was going to escape, going to live, going to beat this shit. 

“We…” Gavriel began, then shook his head, taking another drag from his cigarette. After blowing out a long breath, and a puff of smoke, he continued. “Vaughan and I will go talk to our guys on the police force. Lor, you and Fen go back to the tracks and see if you can find any signs, or tracks, follow them. As soon as you have a decent lead, come back here. We’ll all meet up in a few hours and take it from there.”

There was a moment of silence, but then Fenrys asked, still beneath his hat, “And if we’re too late?” 

The room fell silent. 

It was a risk. Every moment they spent looking and finding nothing was a risk. 

A risk they had no choice but to take. 

Gavriel just shook his head. “We won’t be.”

It was a promise he couldn’t keep, but he would try to keep it if it was the last thing he did. 

He wouldn’t say the words, wouldn’t bury Rowan, who was like a younger brother to him.

The words would not fall from his lips, not if Gavriel could help it. And yet, the words wouldn’t stop replaying through his mind as he stood from the dining room table, reloaded his gun, and left the manor with Vaughan.

In the bleak midwinter.

~~~~~

Aelin had been crying for hours.

At least, it felt like hours, but she had no way of knowing how much time had truly passed. 

The moment the door to her prison opened and Rowan was tossed inside, bloody and unconscious, she had lost it.

For a while, she had tried to wake him up, to no avail. Then, once she made sure he was breathing, she just waited.

And the waiting was agonizing. 

Leaning against the wall, in the dreadful silence, she watched Rowan’s chest rise and fall. Slowly, shakily. 

His lip had been cut, his eye bruised, as if knocking him out hadn’t been good enough, the assholes under Maeve’s command had to leave their mark, too. 

Feeling completely exhausted, she crawled over to Rowan and laid down beside him on the cold, hard floor. Rowan didn’t move as Aelin laid her head on his chest, and draped an arm across his waist. 

A tear slid down her cheek, onto his jacket.

“Please wake up,” she whispered, pleaded, begged. “We need to get out of here, Ro. You, me, the baby….we need to get out of here.” 

Nothing.

She grasped the fabric of his jacket, clinging to it with all that she had. At least Lucy was safe. At least, she hoped so. When Rowan woke up, Aelin would ask.

And Rowan would wake up.

Because, if he didn’t…

No.

The thought was too excruciating.

“Ro, Ro, please, wake up,” she whispered, although she was so tired that she could hardly keep her eyes open. “I love you, sweetheart, and I need you to wake up. We can get out of this, baby, but I can’t do it alone, okay?”

She could hear his heart beating beneath her ear, through the layers that covered his chest. 

When she received no indication of Rowan waking up, a sob tore through Aelin’s body. She closed her eyes, taking in his scent, memorizing everything she could about her husband.

If this would be their last moment alive, she would take in everything she could, hoping it went with her to the afterlife. She hated it, though. Hated that this is what she would bring into the afterlife with her.

Memories of lying together on the floor, blood streaked across Rowan’s face, him unresponsive. Aelin must have fallen asleep, and it’s exactly what she dreamt about.

Rowan, unconscious, dying, and her soon after. Then, the three of them - Rowan, her, and their daughter - walking into the afterlife. 

Their daughter looked just like her father.

Silver hair, green eyes, sun-kissed skin. She was beautiful. The most beautiful. Aelin couldn’t believe how much love she had for the little girl. 

But then she woke up, her eyes shooting open. 

A hand had moved to her lower back, and when she lifted herself up, she saw Rowan’s eyes watching her. He was exhausted, she could tell, in pain.

But he was awake. 

“Rowan.” Her voice was part whisper, part sob, part disbelief. She cupped his face as she kissed him, carefully. “I was so afraid, so worried you were….”

Her words trailed off, unable to say any of what she was actually thinking. 

“I’m okay,” Rowan said, his voice raspy, tired. He reached up with a shaky hand to brush a loose strand of hair out of her face. “I’m going to get  you out of here.”

“What-.”

“I’m going to make a deal.”

“No,” Aelin breathed. “No, unless it includes you and me walking out of these doors, together.”

Rowan eyed her for a moment, his gaze soft, before he said, “We both know that won’t happen. But, I’m going to get you out of here, Aelin. You, and the baby.”

Aelin shook her head, knowing what he was going to say next.

“I’m going to have to give myself to Maeve, Aelin, but you and the baby will be free.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mariamuses  @garnet-29  @writer-reader-traveller  @rowaelin-cressworth  @space-buns-arsinoe  @negativenesta  @empress-ofbloodshed  @the-regal-warrior  @starseternalnighttriumphant  @westofmoon  @sammyjojaaaa  @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter  @carbconnoisseur @acer6437  @lorcansalvatearupmyheart  @cool-ish-nerd  @mynewdreamwasyou  @mourning-razorlust  @thespiritualrider  @rowaelinforeverworld  @didsomeonesayviolin  @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit  @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks  @queen-of-glass  @the-dark-swan  @http-itsrebecca  @holdingon-21@babycardan @tswaney17  @mollycateoc  @chemicha  @bat-wing-rhys @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thespiritualrider  @luna-the-little @morebooks-pls  @shyvioletcat  @hermajestyanna  @a97girl  @stardustsroses  @queenofthemoon22 @alifletcher2012  @awkward-avocado-s  @faerie-queen-fireheart  @cwheart  @lovemollywho @emilyrose111294  @nerdperson524  @sleeping-and-books @cursebreaker29 @flora-and-fae @feyrethedarklady @the-dark-swan @rowaelinforeverworld @sjmsstuff @januarystears @mis-lil-red  @acourtofmoonlight   @rowaelinforeverworld  @courtofmaasdestruction @jjellybean  @thewayshedreamed  @wind-drinker  @aelin-rowan-whitehorn  @starseternalnighttriumphant  @hurema @http-itsrebecca  @lorcansalvatearupmyheart  @cityofchelsea16 @januarystears  @iliketoasterstrudels  @lightitup-bryce  @yikesitsmaddie @feyrethedarklady @i-love-all-books  @keshavomit  @sleeping-and-books @scarznstars  @http-itsrebecca @cat5313 @moondancer-204  @booklover242 @belamoonbeam @they-call-me-cuatro   @b00kworm  @mu-si-ca-l   @thegayerpotato  @abraxos-is-toothless  @keshavomit  @musicdreamer003   @superspiritfestival  @sailorsassley  @mymultiversee @alxanxah @viviaannvu123  @mysweetvillain @theghostlyharrypooperfan @highqueenofelfhame​  @shyvioletcat @maastrash @the-third-me​ @rinad307

#tacmc itbmw #tog #period au #1920s au #pb au

[skinsharpenedteeth]

just a little piece...

AN: This is just a little bit of a Malex WIP. It’s actually a piece of about Kyle and Alex’s friendship which makes me smile a lot. Because honestly... Kyle and Alex in my mind are the kind of friends that are uncomfortably, intimidatingly close. And Kyle is the kind of guy who always goes OVERBOARD. So yeah. I thought it was cute and wanted to share it. 

The next morning, Alex groaned loudly into his pillow as he came abruptly into consciousness. He’d forgotten to close the curtains in his hotel room and the sun was glaring in on him as if seeking vengeance. It took him a moment to remember that he wasn’t in some other dessert half a world away and that the pounding he heard was not the distant sound of bombs dropping, but of someone knocking on his door….loudly. Way too loudly for… Alex squinted at the clock on the bedside table, 8 a.m.  

              “Coming!” Alex called, voice a little hoarse from sleep. The knocking stopped and he groped around for his crutch before hopping over to the door. He left the security chain on as he opened it and peaked outside.

              “Delivery for Mr. Alex Manes?” a short, Hispanic woman said from the hallway. Alex shifted his eyes down to look at the package she held in her hand. She was wearing the hotel’s uniform, but the package was definitely not from the hotel gift shop.

              “Yeah, okay…” he said gruffly, closing the door to unlatch the chain and then reopening it. The woman, ‘Martha’ her name tag read, thrust the object in question at him as if it were on fire. He looked down at it and realized why about the same time that she turned on her heel and all but fled down the hallway to the elevator.

              “Uh… thank you!” he called, closing the door with his foot and backing into his room. He set the… thing on the bed and went to call room service for coffee. He had a feeling he was going to need to be more awake to deal… that.

              As he waited for his coffee and fruit bowl to arrive, Alex found his eyes continually traveling back to the desk. He tried watching TV, playing on his phone, and even going out onto the balcony attached to his room, but the thing on the desk was always at the back of his mind. Sighing, he hopped into the bathroom and started up a shower. It always took room service twice as long as he felt like it should have to deliver even the simplest orders, so he was probably safe to take a quick shower and wake himself up. He grabbed a clean pair of briefs and some sweatpants before closing the bathroom door firmly and starting up the water to warm.

              He figured he knew who the gift was from, but he didn’t want to presume until he’d actually looked at the card. Scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration, he turned and hopped into the shower and sat on the stool inside. He washed himself slowly and thoroughly, trying to draw out the moment when he’d have to deal with reality of his surprise gift. Halfway through washing his hair he heard the door to his hotel room open and an indistinct voice call out “Room Service!” followed by a squeak and giggles. Gritting his teeth, he stuck his head past the shower curtain and called out a thanks. He listened for the thud of the door shutting before he continued washing out the conditioner. If he was lucky, maybe the attendant stole the damn thing and he wouldn’t have to open it.

              A ping from his phone was a welcome relief once he was out of the shower.

<Kyle> Did you get your gift? > I did. I haven’t really looked at it yet. What the fuck did you get me???? <Kyle> Text me when you’ve looked at it! And also, tell me how your date went last night? Am I too late? > Too late for what? <Kyle> Go look at your fucking gift, Manes! > Ugh. Fine.

              Alex slipped on his clothes and prosthetic before re-entering the main living area of his room. He spotted the coffee and fruit set on the desk right next to his present… from Kyle, apparently. Sighing, he stepped closer to the desk and finally gave it a good once over.

              “Where in the fuck did you find a penis shaped gift basket?!” Alex asked as he took in the shape of his present. Groaning, he closed his eyes briefly and felt a headache coming on. Kyle never did anything halfway. He was thoroughly dreading what he would find once he undid the bow and let the acetate fall away to reveal the contents. With shaking hands, he reached out and pulled at the strings of the red and pink heart covered bow. He parted the thin, crinkly grey plastic and swore under his breath, face heating up from instantaneous embarrassment.

              The box was filled to the brim with sex paraphernalia. Alex tried to suppress his horror as he slowly took out all the items. There were three different boxes of condoms, a bottle of lube with a pump handle, as well as a bag of pocket sized packets of lube, a reusable douche kit, a sex candle, a box of dental dams, a tub of something called Boy Butter, a packet of sanitary wipes called Crusty Cock Wipes, a REALLY NICE abalone cuff style cock ring, 2 or 3 silicone cock rings,  a silver butt plug with a touch-sensitive multi-color light-up flared base, some silk scarves, a tube of Nu vitamin tablets, and a bag of penis shaped THC gummies. By the end of the reveal, Alex’s face was so hot from embarrassment he wasn’t sure how the fire detector hadn’t signalled. And his coffee was stone cold.

>First and foremost, What. The. Everloving. Fuck?! >Secondly, OMG. WTF!!! <Kyle>Text leaves something to be desired. I can’t tell if you’re excited, chagrined, or furious. I’m going to call you.

              Alex glanced over his desk now absolutely covered in sex-related products and let his face fall into his hands, whining piteously. His phone started chirping that a video call was coming in from Kyle. He glared at his friend’s photo and pressed the ‘Accept’ button aggressively. Kyle face popped up smiling and excited.

              “What the fuck, Kyle?!” Alex half-yelled, gesturing towards the desktop. Kyle’s smile fell a little, but Alex could tell he was rallying to defend his gift.

              “I thought you might need some stuff! You didn’t bring a lot with you for your trip and I know you weren’t getting a lot of hot dong while in the military. That gift basket is like… amazing and I’m kind of hurt you aren’t appreciating it properly. Plus, I think it catches me up on like every birthday and Christmas I’ve ever missed because some of that shit was pricey. I almost kept that cuff cock ring for myself.”

              Alex looked at his friend incredulously. Kyle looked completely unrepentant and like he did not see where anything he’d done was crossing a line.

              “I think maybe med school has desensitized you too much. Or maybe we’re too good of friends. I have no clue which, but you bought me a BUTT PLUG? That’s a pretty personal purchase to get from someone who is not ever going to be intimate with my actual ASSHOLE,” Alex may have screeched the last word. It felt like a screech. Kyle’s cackling told him it was a screech.

              “I’m just being supportive. You don’t have to USE all that stuff. At least not in one night. I mean, that’s a lot of lube and condoms to go through. At our age, it’s a little ambitious to think you’d even finish off a full box…” Kyle trailed off and started laughing again. Alex’s face must’ve been doing something hilarious, but all he could feel was embarrassment and affection for his friend’s misguided attempts to make up for a couple shitty years of high school where he’d been a jackass homophobe.

              “Kyle… you could’ve just gone to a Pride parade with me someday. You didn’t have to… buy me weed gummies shapes like penises… or Boy Butter?” Alex picked up the tub and examined it. It was designed to look like a tub of margarine and proudly proclaimed to be water-based.

              “I have it on good authority that stuff is amazing for any sort of prolonged anal play. Good thick texture, doesn’t dry up quickly…”

              “Kyle, no! No, Kyle! I just… You just… YOU BOUGHT ME A DOUCHING KIT!!” Alex cried piteously, thumping his head onto the desk and moaning in despair. His best friend was the worst.

              “You’re being dramatic, Alex. Honestly, as the Smashing Pumpkins would say, Cleanliness is Godliness and God is empty… like your bowels will be if you use the kit,” Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Kyle cut him off quickly, “Also, everyone involved in the results will praise heaven when the time comes. Jeez, I mean, a guy tries to help a bro out in the twenty-first century and this is the kind of thanks he gets,” Kyle complained, starting to look a little hurt at Alex’s response to his gifts.

              “Kyle…. I think we may be too comfortable with each other. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but you know this is not a normal gift for like… anybody, right?”  Alex asked, softening his tone and trying to inject some humor into it. “I mean, I’m appreciative and all… I definitely WON’T be telling you if and when I use any of this stuff… but like….”

              Alex was at a loss. It was a really nice gift and he was kind of being a dick about it. Sighing, he smiled and covered his eyes for a moment. Resting his chin on his upturned palm, he finally gave in.

              “Thank you for the gift, Kyle. Let me know next time you get in a serious relationship so I can repay the favor. And never… and I mean, NEVER…. Buy me underwear,” Alex finished, trying to look serious though he was smiling. Kyle smiled back and laughed some more.

              “I apparently didn’t do well enough picking your outfit for last night or you’d be begging to let me buy you underwear next. I take it the evening did not end up with any naked shenanigans?”

              Alex smiled and thought back to the previous night.

#malex fic #wip #kylex friendship #best bros forever #platonic life mates

[clansayeed]

Bound by Choice ― V.ii. I Have a Rendezvous with Death

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

"Trust me now more than you have ever trusted me in all our lives and all our years." But... he vowed. He vowed.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Which one of them gave me up?” I knew I shouldn’t have used that ugly name again.

His eyes sweep through the wreckage of the trench. The wall supports are starting to cave in. Another shell might just bury them both.

Serafine doesn’t answer.

Fine. “I’d be happy to continue this on higher ground.”

“Non, here will do.”

“What is it with you and tunnels beneath the earth?”

Even through the smoke he can see the way she curls her upper lip in disgust. He swears that even as the dark plumes grow darker still he can see her spit at him from afar.

Not much has changed about Serafine Dupont in the centuries since he saw her last. Her hair woven tight back then crowns her soot-stained forehead now; stray curls peek their way around her temples, her cheeks. Admittedly Cynbel prefers her in this close-cut uniform, even more in that it doesn’t bear enemy colors.

Her admirers might choose to keep la belle de Paris pristine in their memories; donned masque with laughter and seduction on her tongue. But he is no admirer and sees her now as he did then; wreathed in flame and staged upon a scene of needless death.

Needless… The thought burrows and takes root as a pounding in his temples. New to him but that made it no less true. Even as he catches the distant final beats of a heart losing too much blood he thinks it… needless.

They had died, fine. But had they needed to? To suit his amusement, perhaps. As the war had suited his amusement up until tonight.

Behind Cynbel the sandbags yield. Earth and debris sliding full to brimming and he has to step closer to her, to the relative safety of a load-bearing door frame.

“You are an arrogant fool to take your eyes off of me.”

It brings him back to her with a humorless laugh. “I’ve been called a fool for many reasons. Better reasons that that one, anyway.”

“It is the kindest of words I can think for you,” he definitely doesn’t imagine how she spits this time, “le tueur.”

At least accuse him for a murder he’s responsible for. It’s bloody London all over again, isn’t it. Cynbel claws at the patch on his uniform sleeve, colors just barely recognizable through the dirt.

“Bear the colors, Dupont. Why would I kill my own soldiers?”

“Ha! That is rich coming from you.”

It’s out of pride that he keeps his hands firmly at his sides; endures the ringing in his ears agitated by her shrill remarks. His head is healed, the two lower ribs snapped back into place by now. But his eardrums take their sweet fucking time don’t they?

Cynbel blinks through colorless sparks behind his eyes and names them embers. Across the aisle Serafine raises her chin defiant. Not spit this time — it’s pure venom that flies from her tongue in words.

“Or were their lives not a sacrifice you deemed worth making?”

Then Serafine twitches her hand and pulls his world out from under his feet. The silence of a land cleared for war replaced by the hollow barely-there echoes of the city. The smell of burning no longer all around but faint and hidden below. The moon is the same one that hung in both skies but there are no shells here, these cobbled streets have seen no falling angels of war, so she bathes them full and bright in her light.

Serafine still looks like Serafine. A quick glance, the drag of his nails over military-issued cloth; Cynbel still looks like Cynbel too.

But Belgium is three hundred years away and all the slumbering souls in Paris know not of the war that rages beneath their feet. It’s the opposite of a miracle; beautiful but aberrant. And in all his years the Golden Son has never seen or experienced the like.

“What — how did we…?”

“Over the years I thought of many ways to play this out,” the vampiress says instead, “whether here or in the burning husk of the former grand hall. Then I wondered if somewhere else would be more fitting. You certainly gave me a variety of choices over the decades; les Trois Amants gouging the world wherever they went, all the catastrophe you left in your wake. I wanted this to serve as a reflection for you. The theatre had to be carefully chosen. It had to mean something.

“But I do not care about that any longer. I do not care if your brazen act of massacre on this night meant nothing to you when it was finished. It matters to me and that, Cynbel, is more than enough.”

Slow and sure he begins to understand.

“This is a memory of that night. Yours or mine?”

“Neither. It is the memory of Paris herself.”

The years haven’t been kind to Serafine’s sanity; that much is clear. But the risk is worth it when Cynbel looks at his back with the fleeting hope that Valdas and Isseya would be standing there now as they had been that night. He remembered them, she did too.

Paris, however, did not.

“It’s a feat of remarkable power and psychic skill.” He’ll give her that because to say otherwise simply isn’t correct. “Are we still in the trenches — physically, I mean. Ah well, burning flesh has never been my favorite part of war so I should thank you for making that go away at the least.

“I’d be obliged if you showed me the trick of it. There are quite a number of memories I wouldn’t mind bringing back for a little while…” Cynbel’s voice trails off with his thoughts but the damage is done. Bewilderment, outrage, vengeance twist through Serafine inside and out. And all in concert with the ringing in his ears as it grows, and grows, and grows.

“I know it was you who fired the gun.”

It grabs his attention and that’s all she wants. Because she waits until she has it to show him a second of her (apparently many) skills. Another twitch; not even. A shadow of a gesture.

BANG.

So loud and hollow and real that Cynbel feels muscle memory recoil from the pistol weight. It sends him staggering off balance, leaves him struggling to find himself firmly planted again but still in this psychic Paris.

That memory could be no one else’s; of that Cynbel’s certain. He laughs and laughs at it but with the pain growing in his temples he can’t quite tell if it’s from amusement or growing uncertainty.

The elder vampire shakes it off and steels himself with clenched teeth. His fangs ache sheathed in his gums. “Not like I covered my tracks that deeply — not to the right eye.”

“The supernatural eye.”

“The humans were content,” he flashes her a cheeky wink, “and I was in for a good spanking.”

“Are you really so blind to the enormity of your actions?!”

“Are you really here to scold me?”

What was hiding behind shadows of movements comes into the light with a war cry. Her voice shatters in her throat and with a wide gesture she throws Cynbel through the air. Pushes him prone with unseen forces against the nearest building wall. The stone should yield under the weight of him but Paris does not remember a crumbling wall, so there isn’t one.

He collides with a sharp jerk of his neck. Feels pain lance through him white-hot and growing hotter even when the force vanishes as quickly as it came and sends him crumpling to the alley flagstones.

Fucking psychics. It feels like their travels through China all over again.

And that answers a great number of questions. Many on the topic of pain.

Cynbel struggles—actually struggles, first time in… in he doesn’t know how long—he pull himself up and put his spine back in the position it’s meant to be in. Serafine watches with seething satisfaction and her laugh drips mockery thick as blood.

She approaches him slowly. Each step purposeful; an announcement. And with her advance every. single. time he feels it — hears that ringing like a hammer forging with his skull at the anvil.

“You, like the rabid hound of hell that you are, plunged the world into this war. This isn’t a religious campaign or a mere battle of territories, Cynbel. This is nations, continents! There are millions dead and more yet to come before it ends and you dare to ask me if I am here to—to scold you?! As if you are some child incapable of grasping consequences?!”

When she’s close enough Cynbel takes his turn and spits on her muddy boots.

“Well pardon me, since that’s what it looks like.”

“You are a monster!”

Serafine psychic grip is far less dainty then she; he learns this the hard way. Can feel something pop out of place as her invisible power wrenches him from his knees and a head above her. The spread of her fingers shaking in wrath, in righteous justice spreading his limbs very near free of the rest of him.

Whatever she’s doing — some part of the memory, her psychic fury made physical, everything is too needled at the edges for Cynbel to know — it hurts. Pain like he hasn’t felt in millennia. The boar that gouged his side when he was a child. The first of his Made-God’s kisses that devoured his throat.

He isn’t healing. Or not like he should. And he will continue to suffer so long as Serafine wishes it.

No, not wishes. She demands it. And here on the battlefield of her own choosing his body can do nothing but yield.

Through her power she binds him at the throat; head held high and unable to look away from her bared fangs, her hellish eyes. “You are a monster,” she repeats, “and worse — you know it. You have always known it. Haven’t you?”

He doesn’t even try to answer; doesn’t think he could if he wanted to and his defiance tightens her hold. “I said haven’t you!”

“Yes —” Cynbel’s blood tastes burned at the back of his throat and leaves him choking on it, “— I am a monster. Yes — I know it. I know the war was my doing. I know there are millions dead for it. The millions before them, too, were my doing.”

But Serafine doesn’t care about them. He’s near certain she doesn’t even care about any of the bodies piled higher than mountains behind Cynbel, behind his beloveds. She only cares about them.

His lips peel back to fangs red with his own blood. “Just like I know every dead vampire under your feet was my doing too. I always have. But you seem to be laboring under a delusion that says otherwise.”

“I assure you I see everything very clearly.”

“Do you now…? Because what I see is the scared young hostess; the pathetic waif that would rather flee in cowardice than take up arms. How many of my dead could have been saved had you stayed to fight?”

Serafine backhands him. A physical touch. One that stings physically and fades like all wounds should. And he prefers it that way — all psychic blows lack the passion and heat of the fight. Of the kill.

And no one has ever claimed him lacking in passion.

“I thought as much.”

“You cannot twist blame onto me. I mourn your dead; even the ones I do not know. I must.”

“And why the fuck is that?”

“I see the threat you pose!”

“Let me free and I’ll show you how much of a threat I can be.”

“Not you — not you alone. But you — your blasphemous Trinity.”

The surprise of it stuns him. It lasts just long enough for the vampiress’ own passion to make her falter. Just a little — a little is more than enough.

He finds the place where her psychic bonds are weakest. Cynbel wrenches his leg free of them with a primal growl and finds the crunch when his boot collides with her face undeniably satisfying. Serafine staggers back, howls at the pain and all of those little psychic bonds quickly unravel at the seams without her to keep them woven.

Paris melts around them. Buildings, the cathedral in the distance, even the moon melting like candles until they are left back in what remains of the trenches — smells, sounds and all.

In the distance thunder — not thunder, thunder holds strength but he can hear only power — more shells, then. The enemy are determined to claim the land in victory and they spread their fingers out wide to do it. Like Serafine had.

Serafine who groans on her knees and rushes to stand. Blood and dirt caked to her chin and neck while her hair comes down in curls around her face. It brings a wildness to the sight of her.

It brings him to finally see the murderous intent in her eyes. It’s been there the whole time. But Cynbel let himself ignore it; he had to. The war has made him weary but he’s still him. Still Cynbel, the Golden Son, firstborn of Valdemaras — he is the wars raged across the world throughout time.

He is weary but not enough to die. And Valdas promised to take him home.

Serafine was as little of a threat then as she is now. Or that’s what he’s allowed himself to believe.

“You three will be the death of us all.”

Pop — he rolls his shoulder bone back in place. “Cut the dramatics.”

“I see it. Kamilah sees it too. And Gaius would — if the destruction in your wake interfered with his plans again.”

Again, she says it like she was there, the arrogance… “You’re trying my patience.”

“Be it human or vampire you three have proven endlessly the havoc you will wreak in one another’s name.”

“What the fuck else do you expect?!” It was a lie — he has no patience for her to try. Cynbel pins her to the door frame holding on for dear life and they aren’t in a memory, not anymore. The wood creaks in warning.

“No one understands. No one can — no one has the capacity not even fucking Kamilah Sayeed.” He laughs; weak, lamenting. “I gave up trying long ago because of this — you. Those like you.”

Her sneer is pitiless. “We are the ones who have suffered; the ones who have lost and grieved because of your obsessive, destructive love!”

He’s cut out tongues and torn hearts in two for lesser insults. Which he’ll choose for her will be entirely dependent on time.

“Wrong! You are the ones who see us in pieces, fragments. You come into our lives and judge us in your entirety but you—you and all others like you are so. very. temporary. You don’t deserve the right to judge us but you take it anyway. Where you see your beloved Paris we see the land that was crushed to build it. Where you see what you call obsession we… we…”

If Cynbel had continued the shell that makes impact a hundred paces ahead would have drowned him out. But he’s trying at a fruitless pursuit the Trinity has been struggling against for two thousand years. Trying to put words where they are none that tell the story fully, none that can fill the vastness of their hearts and instead leave them with scraps.

“We have seen—done—lost so much. We are our constant. And nothing I could say could ever give you enough to feel it for yourself. Not if we had hours. Not if we had days, years. And I’m… I’m sorry for that. I could never live without it.”

Let her judge us, he thinks. She already has and she will continue to for as long as I keep her alive. And she is not the first nor will she be the last.

He wants to let it go. For Valdas waiting for him in whatever remains of the nearby town. For Isseya waiting for them both to return to her. He wants to let it go.

But that won’t save them. Serafine Dupont is unique — she’s gotten closer than anyone ever has before. But what of the Serafine that follows her; the faceless figure who follows in her footsteps? Or the one after that? Maybe not now, maybe not in a hundred years… maybe not even for another two thousand. But one day… that’s all it will take.

He won’t be enough to save them.

The next shell lands close enough they both flinch. Misses the vampires and the crumbling trenches only enough for chunks of Belgian soil to rain down overhead. Serafine tries to fight him off to no avail. He will always be older — he will always be stronger.

Cynbel blinks back tears from stinging eyes. Dirt and ash and smoke and the dead all around them.

He isn’t quite sure her tears are quite the same.

“You would let the rest of the world grieve…” he catches every vibration, every hesitation with his hand on her throat, “… so you never have to?”

“For them… yes.”

He knows from the moment the word leaves his lips that, to Serafine at least, he’s made the wrong choice. But he tried; he did. He tried to help her—make her understand.

Because loving them was never a choice.

Her attack comes unexpected. Because he loves them, because he misses them, though more likely because not every psychic blow is dealt outside the mind.

She drills a hot poker through his popped eardrums and skewers his head upon it. She makes the ringing in his ears louder and louder and endlessly tolling with every church bell he’s ever heard. She transmutes every nerve and thought into brittle glass, shatters them, and puts them back together at jagged angles that bleed him dry.

Serafine is too focused to hear the high-pitched whistle; the song the last shell sings through the air.

It doesn’t miss.

read: I Have a Rendezvous with Death by Alan Seeger

#bloodbound #playchoices fanfiction #bloodbound fanfiction #choices bb #choices bloodbound #serafine dupont #fic: oblivion bound #oblv: bound by choice #oblv: new chapter #oc: cynbel #; my fics

[eljackinton]

Jack's 2019 Video Games in Review

Once again it's the time of year for me to do a quick, off-the-cuff run through of the games I played this year. As ever most, and nearly all, were not actually released in 2019 and some date a while back, but who cares, I play what I like.

Prey and Prey: Mooncrash

I had a thoroughly enjoyable time with Prey. It's a tight and very atmospheric world that's intriguing to be in and fun to mess around with, however, I just couldn't get the game to stick with me. I think it's because in the end it's far too reminiscent of System Shock 2, of which it is inspired by, and I can't help but feel that the loops, and the tone of the plot was too similar for it to really grow out on it's own.

It's a good thing, then, that it was followed up by Mooncrash. It's genuinely interesting premise, of a persistent world where you play several 'runs' as different characters with different abilities, was a fresh take on the familiar Deus Ex/Thief style emergent sim, and made the whole Prey experience worth it. Can't wait to see how Arkane evolves the concept with Deathloop.

Halo Wars

It's been over a decade but I finally got around to playing the first Halo Wars game. Not a lot to say really. It's attempt at a console-only RTS is interesting to experience and is not very well executed and it's plot is just identical to the first Halo game but not as surprising. Unmemorable.

Battletech: Flashpoint, Urban Warfare and Heavy Metal

The Battletech DLC released this year all contributed heavily to improving my opinion of a game I already loved. Each one added new ideas and concepts and I'm hoping we'll see them develop over a sequel. The mini-campagins were all well written and genuinely funny at times. If I have one criticism it's that they waited until the last DLC to add a tonne of new mechs and weapons and equipment and I never go to use most of them because I'd already experienced the vast majority of the missions. Good for new players, not so much for me, but if you haven't played it yet getting it with all the DLC is a hell of a recommendation.

Hyper Light Drifter

I loved the tone and the aesthetic of this abstract sci-fi tale, but gameplay wise, it just wasn't my jam. Unforgiving and more for players in it for the challenge. Give me a more chill game in this setting please.

Ladykiller in a Bind

One of the few games that have genuinely handled the push and pull of personal morals vs personal gain I've ever seen. Despite being billed as an erotic comedy, the game is much more about thrills and tension than all that. There are some valid criticism of how the game handles sexuality (look it up if you're concerned), but in terms of games telling stories of manipulation I don't think I've ever seen a game quite like it.

Hitman (Season One)

Hitman realising that it actually works better as an episodic black-dramady was one of best moments for the world of gaming. A pitch perfect representation of a bald asexual assassin jet setting around the world to sexy locals and giving terrible people ironic deaths. A classic and I'm only partway through Hitman 2, but they certainly didn't drop the ball with the sequel either.

The Witcher, The Witcher 2, The Witcher 3 with Hears of Stone and Blood and Wine

Playing all these games back to back game me whiplash. The Witcher is one of the worst games I have ever played. It's poorly designed, badly written and has a visual aesthetic that is washed out and grim. I felt my mental health getting worse just playing it.

Witcher 2 is a vast improvement. A vibrant colourful world, solid gameplay and a well written, multi-layered plot of politics and vengeance. Only brought down slightly by it's tendency to take the tone in the edgiest direction possible. I cringed a lot, at story moments in this game.

Witcher 3 is one of the greatest games ever written. Gone is the jank of the first game, gone is the try hard edge of the second. Witcher 3 cares about it's characters as much as it does about giving you a massive world to lose yourself 2. It's the perfect marriage of cinematic storytelling and a go anywhere, do anything open world. Things get even better with Hearts of Stone, and even even better with Blood and Wine.

Wolfenstien: Youngblood

Most people had nothing but bad things to say about Youngblood, but I had nothing but a great time with it. The gameplay was a blast, the world was fun to explore, the characters were a joy to hang around with and the story, while nothing special, was still interesting enough to see how it unfolds. I don't get why people reacted so negatively.

Baba is You

The block puzzler's ultimate form. I don't see how you make a game of this genre any better after this. Just play the dang thing.

Fugue in Void

A super short (20 minutes) environmental experience. Leaves you things to think about. Not for the kind of person who can't spend two minutes in a modern art gallery.

Pathfinder: Kingmaker and Varnhold’s Lot

It would take all day for me to talk about my complicated feelings for Kingmaker, so I'll put it this way. Great story, great characters, great gameplay all brought down by an ill-fitting mash up with an otherwise well designed kingdom management sim and some head-bashingly obnoxious moments where massive story elements are tied to seemingly unrelated decisions you made twenty hours ago.

Damn I wanted to like this game, but as the credits rolled I just felt I'd been cheated.

Minit

A quick once-and-done that's dedicated to one particular concept that it pushes as far as it can go. What can you get done with 60 seconds per life before you respawn and how does the world react around you. Really interesting.

The Signal from Tolva

Another game that's dedicated to it's singular concept. Explore a mysterious alien world in a post-human universe. Unusual, weird and inspiring. It's free DLC has an unreasonably large difficulty spike, however.

Potatoman Seeks the Troof

A funny visual design but too difficult for me to finish.

Hand of Fate

A really interesting concept, combining a deck building game with a dungeon crawler. Tightly designed, the vast majority of your early runs will be sharp and surprising. Long outstays it's welcome however as the clunky combat controls do the more difficult encounters no favours, and you find you're only still playing to try and grind out the last few tokens you need to unlock. I have high hopes for when I eventually get round to the sequel.

Warhammer: Vermintide 2: Winds of Magic

The arrival of the beastmen is another well executed addition to the overall Vermintide 2 experience, but I wish I could say the same thing about the new Winds of Magic campaign mode. Short, sharp 'challenge maps' that require you complete them before you unlock the next, can be almost impossibly difficult at times, made all the worse that you can't play with bots and managing to catch a party playing the specific map you're on is just as impossible. Fatshark's first failed experiment with the game.

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion: The Shivering Isles (sort of)

I've only been jumping back in to Oblivion on and off this year, so I still haven't finished it's final DLC. Maybe I haven't got into it far enough yet but I don't feel it distinguishes itself enough from vanilla Oblivion like a lot of people claim it does, and a lot of the 'people as concepts' ideas don't work for me. We'll see if I go on to finish it in 2020.

Normally I do a top 5 of games released in that year, but I don’t think I played more than three, so we’ll uhhh, say Baba is You is my game of the year.

#review #baba is you #pathfinder kingmaker #wolfenstien youngblood #vermintide

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z Movie 7: Super Android 13!

Movie 7 premiered on July 11, 1992, after episode 147 and before episode 148.  The original title is “Dragon Ball Z: Extreme Battle! The Three Great Super Saiyans.”    That may be the most coherent movie title I’ve come across so far. 

We open on footage of 17 killing Dr. Gero in his lab.  Toei went out of their way to reanimate this whole scene, although the Z-Fighters aren’t in it.   I’m pretty sure that big energy blast at the top is Vegeta blasting the door open, but he’s not actually shown.

And the Z-Fighters ought to be standing at the doorway, watching 17 finish Gero off, and yet they’re completely out of sight.  You’d think their shadows would be visible here.   

But Gero’s supercomputer in the lab’s basement is still hard at work.  We first learned of the computer in Episode 143, because Cell credited it with his creation.   And it was destroyed in... Episode 145, because Trunks and Krillin wanted to make sure it didn’t send any more surprises after them later.   So yeah, we’re not even ten minutes into this movie, and we already have a continuity issue.  

In the anime, the supercomputer just has a tank with the embryonic Cell next to it.    But in this movie, that’s nowhere to be seen, and instead there’s three chambers, like the kind that once held 16, 17, and 18.   What could be inside?????

And here’s the title screen.  

This movie’s pretty thin on story.   That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because it’s got plenty of action, but there’s not a whole lot for me to write about.   As far as I can tell, this is set in some possible scenario where the good guys beat the androids and maybe Cell too, although it sort of looks like Cell just stone cold never existed in this movie’s world.   So the gang is in the big city just sort of relaxing.  

This is Trunks’ movie debut, but it seems kind of weird having him just stand around and kill an afternoon with the others.   He seems to feel even more awkward about it than I do.  If the androids are beaten, why hasn’t he gone back to his own time?   Instead, he’s tagged along with Master Roshi, Krillin, and Oolong for some beauty pageant.   They wanted to get good seats for ogling the girls, so they showed up super early.  Krillin tells them to quit being lecherous pervs around Trunks, but earlier he was the one going ga-ga, so yeah.  

The punchline here is that they ended up getting the date of the even wrong, so they stood in line for nothing.

Meanwhile, Goku and Gohan are helping Chi-Chi at the store, because women be shopping, amirite?  

Outside, these two mofos show up and just start walking through everything.  

I mean literally.   If a bus gets in their way they just rip right through it.  

Pretty sure they could fly straight up to where they’re going, but they take the escalator instead.

Then they open the elevator shaft, fly up it, through the car, and then rip their way to whatever floor they want.

All of this so they can shoot at Goku from the floor below where he and the gang are eating dinner.    This whole assassination attempt seems kind of poorly thought out.    If they were going for stealth, why were they so sloppy about getting this far?   If they didn’t care who saw them coming, why didn’t they just smash right through to this floor and attack directly?

They manage to save everyone on the floor from the blast, though, so no worries.   Goku suspect the attackers are here for him, so he tells everyone to get as far from him as possible.

Sure enough, the pair follow Goku, and he deduces pretty quickly that they’re more of Dr. Gero’s androids.  

It takes a while to get the introductions made, so let me get this out of the way here.   This one is #15, he has a hip flask and he likes to drink out of it.  

And this one is #14.   He looks like some sort of reject from the movie Highlander.   I’m not sure why their skin looks that way.  

Gohan insists on helping, even though Krillin says there’s nothing they can do at their level, and even though Chi-Chi wants him to come home for summer cram school.   Gohan refuses, on account of his dad’s life being more important.   So Chi-Chi tells Krillin to go after him and make sure he’s okay.

Back at the lab, the supercomputer activates a third android, #13.    Why not just send them all out together?   Is this just because #14 and 15 are having trouble?   Because they haven’t really gotten very far into the fight yet.

Trunks tells Goku that they should take the battle to the polar region up north so civilians won’t get hurt.   There, 14 and 15 manage to do a pretty good job working over both of them.  

Then 13 shows up.   The good news is that he’s more talkative than the others, but the bad news is that he doesn’t have much more to say, really.   Practically every one of his lines is just a restatement of how they were sent by Gero’s computer to kill Goku.

That’s pretty much the whole problem with this movie.   The villains are just... more androids.   Are they cooler androids than the ones from the anime?   Well, I guess that’s a matter of taste, but they don’t really have the personality of 16, 17, and 18.   They might look cooler, but they don’t have character arcs or anything like that.   14 hardly speaks at all, and 15 just has that hip flask and a loud costume.   13′s got his hat, and not much else.  

This is where the Funimation dub really came to the rescue, becaue they dubbed the Movie androids with a lot more flavor.   15 was really sassy, and 13 had this beligerent redneck persona to match his costume.   My favorite line from the dub version is when he says “I was programmed to kill your ass”.  

We get none of that in the Japanese version.  These three are all business, and there’s not much to say here that wasn’t covered by #16-20 in the anime.   Dr. Gero hates Goku, they were built to kill him.   

The only real twist I can see in this movie is when 13 explains that Gero’s desire for vengeance was “transferred” into the computer.   So now the computer hates Goku just as much as Dr. Gero did.   Maybe that’s a distinction without a difference.    In the dub, the computer was just a plot device to explain how the androids got turned on.    Team Four Star’s abridged version of this movie had Gero upload his consciousness into the computer when 17 killed him.   I liked that idea, because it allowed Gero to actually be in the movie, albeit as a stationary object.   But the original Japanese script seems to be proposing that the computer itself could be the mastermind this time around.   Except it never speaks or does much of anything through the whole film.   It’s basically an even crappier Dr. Wheelo, if that’s even possible.  

On the other hand, it sort of explains why the computer went out of its way to send 13, 14, and 15 into action.    In the anime, it’s strongly implied that they were considered failures, either scrapped or put into storage.    Gero probably wouldn’t have bothered to use them again, not after all of his later models failed, but if the computer hates Goku too, then it might be desperate enough to try to hurt him with whatever it has on hand.  

So they keep fighting.   Trunks has to handle 14 and 15 by himself, and it doesn’t go well.

Then Vegeta shows up to save Goku from 13′s finisher.   Standard speech, no one gets to kill Kakakrot except me, yadda yadda.

So 15 goes after Vegeta, and now we have an even three-on-three fight.  

Now, you might be wondering why they haven’t all gone Super Saiyan yet.    Well, to answer your question, I have no idea.  I get the impression that these three androids are far weaker than their anime counterparts.    I mean, these would have to be the third string, or why else would Dr. Gero have left them on the shelf when he needed help?   Goku, Vegeta, and Trunks never would have survived against 16-20 without their Super Saiyan forms, so the fact that they hold their own so long here tells me these three ain’t all that.    It still doesn’t explain why they waited this long to turn up the juice.    When they do finally transform, Krillin exclaims “They’ve done it!” like it was hard. 

I suppose that’s the other explaination.   Movies 5 and 6 both seemed to imply that the boys can only transform when they’re backed into a corner.    So maybe Movie 7 is going on the same reasoning, but that’s kind of dumb, since we’ve had Super Saiyans for a while now and everyone ought to be familiar with how they work.    Hell, Trunks and Vegeta transformed immediately when they fought Frieza and 19 respectively.    They can all do it at will.  

I take it back, Gero’s computer is way better than Dr. Wheelo because it has colorful blinking lights, so I can actually distinguish it from the rest of the scenery.

For some reason, Goku still has trouble with 13, even in Super Saiyan form, so Piccolo shows up to lend a hand.   This seems kind of underhanded for a show that emphasizes fighting one-on-one.  

As for Vegeta and Trunks, they dispatch their respective Androids pretty easily. 

But then 13 reveals that YOU JUST ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD.   Turns out that when you destroy 14 and 15, some of their components will automatically float up and enter 13′s body, giving him a power boost.

So then he turns into this big blue monster with red Vegeta hair.  Well why didn’t the computer just build him like this in the first place?    Why bother with 14 and 15 at all?

So yeah, he kicks everyone’s ass, and no one can even put a dent in the guy.   

With the rest of the Z-Fighters down, 13 just tees off on Goku, eventually knocking him into a lake.

Krillin spends most of the movie convinced that he’s too weak to help, but then at the end he finally steps in to save Goku, and that’s pretty cool.  He eats an energy blast for his trouble, but that’s how it goes.

This gives Goku a chance to try the Spirit Bomb, which we haven’t seen him use since it utterly failed to kill Frieza.   

The others try to buy Goku time.   Trunks in particular gives a speech about how he’s from the future, and 13 doesn’t exist in the future, and that’s because Goku must be destined to kill him here and now.    Pretty sure that’s not how it works, but whatever.

13 tries to shoot at Goku, but Piccolo manages to suplex the big bastard.   He only gets him halfway over, but that’s enough to ruin 13′s aim, so good enough.

Then Piccolo calls for Goku to show him the power of a Super Saiyan, and Goku obliges by transforming.  

From the sidelines, Krillin points out that this won’t work, because you can’t create a Spirit Bomb with a malicious heart, and this apparently means that Super Saiyans just can’t do it at all.   I have no idea where Krillin is getting this from.    Goku learned the Spirit Bomb technique directly from King Kai, who invented it, and Goku’s the first Super Saiyan to appear in a thousand years.   He is singularly qualified to know whether or not this will work.    With all respect to Krillin, he has no idea what he’s talking about.  

So what ends up happening is that Goku’s body sucks the Spirit Bomb into itself, so now Goku is surrounded by a glowing yellow ball of energy.  

Is this a good thing?  Is this what Goku meant to do?    Was he just going to try a vanilla Spirit Bomb until Piccolo told him to turn Super Saiyan?   Who knows?

Anyway, 13 just dives right into this mess and tries to attack Goku anyway, but everytime he punches him his fists get all messed up.   

Then Goku makes this really angry face and he looks like Vegeta to me. 

He punches a hole through 13, and he explodes.   Fight’s over.

Then the computer just... shuts down?   That’s kind of convenient.   Maybe it figured it couldn’t do anything else now that all of its androids were destroyed, so there was no point staying active?    Maybe its power was connected to 13′s?   Oh well.   

Everyone’s okay, but they all go to the hospital instead of looking for senzu beans.   Krillin’s still trying to explain how Goku did that trick with the Spirit Bomb. 

But Goku himself has no idea, so what chance do the rest of us have?

But where are Piccolo and Vegeta?

Just floating around on a chunk of ice, nbd.   The fish jumps, so it’s over.

And that’s it.   

I don’t know.   From a story perspective, this one’s pretty weak.   It’s just a warmed over follow-up to the androids arc, with 13 as a cheap knockoff of Cell.   Movies 5 and 6 at least tried to raise the stakes with Cooler.   Sure, he’s just Frieza’s brother, but he had a fifth form, and his cyborg form was tied into a whole machine planet.    Turles was just another Saiyan invader, but he had the Tree of Might thing going for him.  13 really didn’t have anything like that. 

Honestly, I think they could have done better by having 16 be the main villain.    We never got to see 16 fight any of the good guys, so they could have done a movie where an evil 16 cleans their clocks.   At least then it’d be a familiar face.  

Nevertheless, I do enjoy this movie, just because it doesn’t skimp on the action.   The bad guys show up about 12 minutes in and they fight pretty much non-stop for the rest of the film.  It’s a good movie in that regard.  If you just want to see a bunch of DBZ characters have a good old ruckus, this one’s got you covered.    It’s bright and colorful and you can follow the action without any trouble.   

But you definitely want to watch the dub version.   It’s just a lot more fun. 

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #dbmovieliveblog #movie 7 #super android 13! #android 13 #android 14 #android 15 #goku #vegeta #trunks #piccolo #gohan #krillin #oolong #master roshi #chi chi #dr gero #android 17 #android 20

[mydarlinclementine]

u n s e e i n g    e y e s    f o l l o w    a p p r o a c h i n g    f o o t s t e p s    . . .

     “  hope you’re not try’na be a sneak.          it’s unbecoming. ”  

                                                     a warning laced with poison.                                                       she stands by the window.                                                      no cane. no fear.

     friend or foe, they’ve got      one thing       she’s after.

                                          “ got a light ? ”

( jodie comer, gorgon, she/her & cisfemale ) is that ( bad reputation ) by joan jett & the blackhearts ) playing? (clementine cornelia carmichael ) must be nearby! heard folks say the ( one hundred fifty ) year old ( ex-mercenary ) was at the thanksgiving fair, ( lightin’ a cigarette by the kiddie play pen ) when chaos ensued. during the glitch, ( she dropped her cane while jumped by some no-good, possessed werecreatures, ‘til a mystery someone swooped her off to safety ).

b a c k g r o u n d .

clementine cornelia carmichael was the second of two daughters born to the carmichael family in georgia... and the disappointment starts there. her parents had been vying for a son, but alas –– with one x chromosome too many, they had no choice but to amend their planned wills. their family fortune, derived from plantation money, would go to the first daughter to marry, and her husband.

the catch. clementine didn’t know about this policy. only her older sister ( wanted connection ) was aware. so when clementine married her first husband, jeb, at 16, her older sister began brainstorming ways to sabotage their marriage to get the inheritance back in her name. it began with petty things. flubbing house parties. planting rumors. attempting to seduce jeb. eventually, it became clear this love was strong and she wouldn’t break it alone.

and then her lucky break struck. jeb and clementine’s efforts to have a child grew more desperate in the third year of their marriage. by 19, clementine had two miscarriages and narrowly escaped with her life. little did she know, getting so close to death activated a dormant gene in her...

all carmichael women are gorgons. her older sister knew about the family lore but clementine had never bothered to listen to her mother’s old tales of men turned to stone. it was only folk tales, old wive’s tales designed to scare both daughters into staying prim, proper, and well-behaved.

imagine her shock when, while they were making love, jeb turned to stone. talk about yikes. clementine flipped. her older sister came to the rescue –– with a pick axe and a sledgehammer. the two women pulverized the stone and buried it in an urn in the back yard of the young couple’s yard. widowed, clementine was reduced to nothing. no joys in life presented to her. the kicker? gorgons can reverse their own stone-turnings. and her sister? the bitch bloody lied to get her hands back on the inheritance.

a year and a half later, gorgon hunters stormed the house and mistook clementine for her sister. they kidnapped her and planned to kill her, until the quick-witted lady pitched an offer they couldn’t pass up: she’d provide them with mercenary services in exchange for her life. all of a sudden, their hunting jobs got ten times easier.

clem before jeb’s death was gentle. docile. calm waters, soothing breezes, dog-eared pages come morning. now? she whipped at the world with a vengeance. why deny what she was? why fight her essence?

clem later turned her captors to stone and privatized her mercenary jobs. her body count rose and rose, with no evidence left over for incrimination. but... by the late 1960′s, she grew tired of running. tired of hunting. with fresh dust on her hands, she finished her last kill, collected her hefty bill, and used the money to relocate to tiny letum falls, oklahoma.

there, she began to help out at the garden emporium, adding to its statue collection from pure boredom. she’d go to the bars, sleep around, repeat.

in the 70′s, she met manny otero, and the two have danced around one another ever since –– fuck buddies. she’ll never admit she actually might have feelings for the man.

in september, descendants of the hunters clem worked with and killed arrived in letum falls, searching for a blonde gorgon –– they found what they were lookin’ for, but not exactly who. again, mistaken for her sister, clem was attacked and left for dead in an abandoned house by the woods. dumb asses. didn’t know a gorgon can’t die unless you behead her.

clem awoke from the incident bloodied and blind. she can make out light and some loose peripheral shadows, but the blows to her head damaged her optical nerves enough to render her legally blind. she begrudgingly carries a cane when absolutely necessary, but she’ll more often than not defy using it by just... struggling her way through things. it’s messy. inelegant. but she’d rather stumble and trip than admit she needs assistance.

unlike other people, who might view tragedy as a way to make amends and realign with the world, clem’s attack just fueled her fire. she’s agitated. bristly. ready to snap at anyone who gets too close. it’s a miracle she hasn’t done a number on manny yet, or xander. ( she’s got a bit of a soft spot for the guy. )

t h e     f a i r .

she went ‘cause everyone expected her not to. idiots. of course she was going to prove assholes wrong. of course she was going to light up a few cigs near the kiddie play pen. who do you think she is ?  a changed woman ?

like clockwork, the first screams rang out when clem finally heard her lighter catch. so she took her time. lit the cigarette, took a looooooong drag. then came the footsteps. the snarls. the corner of her lips turned up in the teeniest of smirks.

she smelled it before she felt it. the blood. but just as soon as the pain blossomed ‘round her right forearm and shoulder, she was being pulled in the opposite direction. practically carried.

yeah. someone saved her ass. and she’s pissed about it.

c u r r e n t l y .

spends her time drinking, smoking, ‘n adding to brooks baker’s gray clouds over at the bakery. when she’s not there, you can find her sitting in her favorite diner booth sipping her umpteenth black coffee or tearin’ into a big fat slice of key lime pie.

aw. you scared ?  you think some big bad glitch is gonna come back to take you, too ? cry her a river, hun. this ain’t nothing.

the local bartenders already know to pour her a double whiskey, straight as soon as she walks in the door. clem’s got this presence about her –– she turns heads and makes ‘em want to turn away all in one go.

c u r r e n t     c o n n e c t i o n s .

fuck buddy / savior – manny otero.  she’s got him right where she wants him... in bed. these two ooze libido and become a show almost anywhere they go. sometimes she’ll let him buy her a drink. other times, it’s just easier to cut to the chase. since becoming blind, things with manny haven’t changed much, and clem’s thankful for that. little does she know, he’s the asshole who saved her life at the fair.

unlikely ally – xander chapell.  these two share late night cigs after clem gets some and, xander, well... does not, due to a variety of freak and unfortunate incidents. often clem barging in pre-bang. they have a special trust between them. xander opened up to clem about losing bez the night after the glitch. and she opened up to him, a little, about her past. it’s uncanny. but their bond works.

w a n t e d     c o n n e c t i o n s .

enemies.  give me people who really rub clem the wrong way. it ain’t hard to do.

her older sister.  their relationship is dysfunctional. deceptive. manipulative. you’d think they were the heads of opposing armies, not borne from the same flesh and blood. surprise surprise, clem has since uncovered a gorgon’s ability to reverse their changes. needless to say, she’s wanting to seek some kind of comeuppance. the issue? her older sister has been the only person to succeed in forcing help on her after losing her sight. and killing her own caretaker? that’d look pretty gnarly, from the outside lookin’ in.

drinking crew.  they’re not close, but they share a dark sense of humor and a penchant for dullin’ the senses.

garden emporium customers.  i would love to have a connection whose relative / dog / etc. were turned to stone and showed up at the emporium the very same week they decided to snag some kind of lawn ornament to complement their new landscaping... let’s make it crunchy, and awkward, and terrible.

hookups / past flings.  she’s been here a while. been around the world for a while. so i reckon while her body count for kills is high, her body count for beddin’ gives it a run for its money.

mentor / mentee type of thing.  someone’s looking to learn from her. why ?  who knows. but she’ll offer ill-founded advice and bitter philosophies. doesn’t have a good reason not to.

#othqintro #intro. #death tw #blood tw #miscarriage tw #this sucks but yeet

[buffythecomicslayer]

Excerpt from Slayer, book 2: Chosen, by Kiersten White

The world is quiet now.

It used to be so loud. So much chatter, beating, drumming, buzzing buzzing buzzing. The buzzing of it all. It used to keep him awake at night, inescapable, like mites crawling through his veins. Sometimes he would scratch at his arms until they bled, but even the bleeding never dampened the buzzing.

Until it stopped. All the lines to and from the world, all the hungry beings clawing and sucking and pawing at it, everything cut off.

But not him. He is still here. And with everything quiet, he can finally focus. He’s powerless, which is unfortunate but temporary. Everything here is temporary. He will not be.

He strokes his arms, smooth and unscarred, so deceptively human-looking. But he is no human. And this world, this quiet world, this cut-off and free-floating world, this magic-less and empty world, this unprotected and uncontested world, this waiting world—

He will be its god, and everyone will buzz with him beneath their veins, they will breathe and bleed and live and die for him, and it will be good.

Amen.

1

The demon appears out of nowhere. Claws and fangs fill my sight, and every instinct screams kill. My blood sings with it, my fists clench, my vision narrows. The vulnerable points on the demon’s body practically flash like neon signs.

“Foul!” Rhys shouts. “No teleportation, Tsip! You know that.” Even while playing, Rhys can’t help but be a Watcher, shouting out both advice and corrections. He’s not wearing his glasses, which makes his face look vague and undefined. Cillian passes him, mussing Rhys’s carefully parted hair into wild curls and laughing at Rhys’s frustration.

I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head of the impulse to kill this demon I invited into our home and swore to protect. “It’s just soccer,” I whisper. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even like soccer.”

“Football, bloody American,” Cillian sings, neatly stealing the ball from me. His shorts are far shorter than the January afternoon should permit, but he seems impervious to cold. Unlike those of us who are translucently pale at this point in winter, his skin is rich and lovely. He passes to Tsip. Tsip is a vaguely opalescent pink, shimmering in the sunlight. She paints her claws fun colors when we do manicure nights and I try desperately not to miss Artemis.

I stay rooted to the ground where I’m standing. Tsip caught me off guard, but that shouldn’t matter. I like her. And the fact that I went from trying to score a goal to plotting a dozen ways to kill my opponent in a single heartbeat is frankly terrifying. I can’t get my heart under control, can’t shake the adrenaline screaming through my veins.

“Gotta take over for the Littles. I’m out.” I wave and jog from the field. No one pays me much attention. Jade is lying on the ground in front of the goal, the worst goalkeeper ever. Rhys and Cillian are body-checking each other in increasingly flirty ways. Tsip keeps shimmering and then resolidifying as she remembers the no-teleportation rule. They’re all happy to keep going without me, unaware of my internal freak-out.

I’ve deliberately kept them unaware. Things here are going so well. I’m in charge. I can’t be the problem. So none of them know how I can’t sleep at night, how my anger is hair-trigger fast, how when I do manage to sleep, my dreams are...

Well. Bad.

They don’t need to know and I don’t let them. Except for Doug, his bright yellow skin almost nineties Day-Glo levels in the thin winter sun. Annoying emotion-sniffing demon. He watches me from our goal, his nostrils flared. I can’t lie to him the way I can to everyone else. I shake my head preemptively. I don’t want to talk about it. Not with him. Not with anyone. There’s only one person I want to talk to about it, but Leo Silvera’s not exactly available.

I do a quick sweep of the perimeter of the castle. Leo loved me. Check the woods. Leo betrayed me. Check the locks on the outbuildings. Leo saved me. Pause and just listen and look, feeling for anything pushing against my instincts. I let Leo die.

I keep walking. Leo loved me, betrayed us, saved us, and then died, and I can’t be sad without being mad or mad without feeling guilty or guilty without feeling exhausted.

Past the meadow, the tiny purple demons are taking turns pushing each other on the tree swing. That, or they’re trying to push each other off. It’s hard to tell with them. With nothing else needing my attention outside, I end up at the front stairs to the castle.

“Hey, Jessi.” I wave halfheartedly to our resident vengeance demon. She’s leading the Littles through an elaborate game of hopscotch. George Smythe, bundled up and barely able to see under a floppy knit hat, is shouting each letter as he lands on it. “G!”

“What?” Jessi snaps at me.

“E!”

“I can take over for you.” I find the Littles soothing. They might be three incredibly hyper children constantly needing snacks, entertainment, and education, but at least none of them ever randomly triggers a kill reflex in me.

“A!”

“No,” Jessi says, her voice as sweet as summer fruit. “G-E-what-comes-next...”

“O!” George course corrects, wobbling on one short leg before jumping to the required O.

“Good! Oh, you’re so clever. Priya, how are your letters coming?” Priya, a tiny moppet with shiny black hair, is crouched over her own chalk work, which looks more like Klingon than any alphabet I’m familiar with. “Very good, darling! You’re really working hard. Hold the chalk with one hand, like we talked about. Thea, love, fingers out of noses, please — that’s a dear.”

And to think, we once considered these children the entire future of the Watchers. I watch as Thea spins until she falls flat on her bottom. Actually, the future of the Watchers is pretty accurately captured here. I pat Jessi on the arm. “So, you can take the afternoon off.”

Everything sweet in Jessi’s voice turns to ice. “I said no. I don’t trust you with these three precious wonders. We have an entire day’s curriculum to get through, and we haven’t even done story time yet or finished our art projects. Are you going to do any of that with them?”

“I— I could?”

“You were going to turn on a cartoon and read while their fertile minds were filled with weeds.”

Jessi doesn’t have her powers anymore, but I’m pretty certain if she did, I would have been vengeance-demoned right into something oozing and seeping. She’s already turned away from me and back to her three charges. Her whole face is full of gentle warmth and absolute love.

“R!” George declares, hopping emphatically down on it. Jessi claps like he’s cured the common cold.

Thoroughly dismissed, I skulk up the stairs and into the castle. Jessi could at least pretend to be nice. She’s got a lot of enemies out there — vengeance is a nasty cycle — and without her powers she’s vulnerable. We took her in despite her obvious hatred for everyone over the age of ten. There was some debate, given her history, but my mom argued in her favor. It’s a little easier to forgive a vengeance demon who made it her immortal life’s work to avenge children than a vengeance demon who specialized in, say, fantasy league sports rivalries.

But Jessi’s dismissal leaves me with nothing to do. I used to have my medical center and my studies, all my little Watcher duties. Even with so few of us, the castle ran as near to Watcher traditions as we could manage. Which in retrospect was absurd, since we didn’t have a Slayer and weren’t actually doing anything Watchers should.

But now everything has changed. We lost Watchers — Wanda Wyndam-Pryce, sulking off into the sunset, good riddance. Bradford Smythe, murdered. Eve Silvera, secretly a succubus demon and murderer, smushed thanks to my actions. Artemis, off to find herself with her awful girlfriend, the thought of whom makes my jaw ache as I grind my teeth. And Leo, who didn’t warn us what his mother was (and what he was) but fought her to give us enough time to stop her from opening a new hellmouth.

And now we have a Slayer, again some more, thanks to Leo somehow returning the powers his mother stole from me. I don’t know how he did it, and it hurts too much to think about, like everything else. I spend so much of my days trying not to think, and it’s harder than it should be. I used to believe that all Slayers did was act without thinking. I was wrong, but I wish it were true. There’s so little acting and so much thinking these days.

It’s good. It’s all good. It’s good, I remind myself, over and over like a chant. Sanctuary, what we decided to turn our castle into, is just starting out, but it’s exactly what we dreamed it could be. We’ve taken in demons who had nowhere else to go. We’re keeping them safe, and ourselves safe, and we’ll keep looking for those who could benefit from the generations of knowledge and abilities we have. We’re protecting, not attacking or destroying.

Between our new demonic additions and existing Watchers, everyone has tasks and times to do them. It’s more work than anyone anticipated, keeping everyone taken care of and fed, making sure the castle runs like it should. But so far everyone is happy. Everyone is safe.

I sink down against the wall, feeling the cold of the stone radiating outward. The unpellis demon, all four gentle eyes soft and brown and hopeful, snuggles up to my side like a dog. It’s more animal than human in nature, nonverbal, and still recovering from its frequent de-skinning treatment in Sean’s demon-drug manufacturing scheme. I saved Pelly from that cellar.

I didn’t save everyone, though.

I wrap my arms around Pelly and close my eyes. Everything is exactly what we dreamed it could be. Except I feel Leo’s loss everywhere, and I miss my twin, Artemis, with a constant, physical ache.

And, worst of all, with enough time after Tsip surprised me to calm down and remind my body there’s no danger...

I still feel like killing something.

#slayer series #kiersten white #books #other media #preview

[zdbztumble]

Penultima Raving (KH III Spoilers)

No, I haven’t finished the game yet.

I must be near the end, as I’ve ended up in the crazy windmill world from the opening sequence, but as there was quite a bit that happened in the short span of story progress I made today, I decided against waiting ‘til the finale to do another write-up.

Where I left off last time was Sora piecing himself together - literally - and then proceeding to rescue everyone but Kairi in the various Disney worlds. That Kairi didn’t need rescuing, but was in fact keeping Sora from fading away, and was there to guide him back to the realm of light, was a great idea. The line “you’re safe with me” was wonderful, and a good start to a pay-off on her promise to be the one to keep Sora safe this time. But a great sequence in isolation can’t achieve its full potential impact when the character arc that it’s a part of is so neglected prior to that point. And as for the follow-up to that moment...well, let’s come back to that.

I feel torn here, because there’s quite a bit in this section of the game that’s brilliant in concept and beautiful to look at. If the execution weren’t so spotty, then this post would be much shorter, and much more of a SQUEE! in text form.

Going point by point:

- The cutscene when you enter the Keyblade Graveyard the second time, opening in the same way as the first, was a bit confusing but not a bad idea. But having Terra defend his friends against Terranort was. If I’m just starting to get the hang of how the Xehanort Horcruxes and Sora’s “host to three hearts” business all work, I still can’t figure out how Terra’s heart relates to his possessed body. More importantly - after Sora goes through the hard work of rescuing everyone and turning the clock back, having another character rush in to claim the Hero Moment leaves him feeling like a bystander in his own story. This isn’t a new problem in this level; Sora was a glorified bystander in the two Disney fairy tale worlds. Other characters pointing out how special and important Sora is throughout the game, besides being annoying and actually undermining Sora’s special qualities, make it all the more obvious when he gets left out of important action.

- Surfing the Keyblade stream is fun, but it’d be more fun if the combat didn’t just amount to hitting a single button in rapid succession, and if it wasn’t made confusing as hell with a random shout-out to the mobile game.

- The multiple Demon Towers surrounding all our heroes made for a very dramatic visual and a formidable sense of menace. It’s a shame I never got a chance to see how challenging they actually were, because this entire sequence is left as a cutscene. I imagine there are serious technical challenges to putting together a battle where Mickey, Riku, Aqua, Ven, Kairi, and Axel are all battle partners to you along with Donald and Goofy, but this just makes me think again that a toggling system that let you battle as members of various parties would be a great solution.

On the other hand, this sequence gave us Master Yen Sid casting his Fantasia magic all over the place, and that was a truly unexpected pleasure. I don’t care much for him being a Keyblade Master on top of being a wizard, but seeing him be a wizard was amazing. Now all we need is a Sword in the Stone world where Merlin can cut loose.

- Splitting the party up and leaving Sora to find them in a maze is a great idea, as is pairing enemies that were formidable bosses in their own right together to face him. I didn’t find any of them that much of a challenge, but I think I’m overleveled (spent a bit too much time having fun with the ship battles in the Caribbean, I think.) The bigger problem with these battles was the pacing, with cutscenes interrupting the gameplay entirely too often. Each of the villains is given an almost-identical death sequence, and with pretty much none of them being likable (or even memorable in some cases), the efforts at giving these moments some pathos, and the attempts to create moments between the dying and Sora, all fall flat.

- Did I miss something about there being two Replikus? I have been so confused about this ever since the Big Hero 6 level. The one running around being an evil Organizer was confusing enough, but another one living inside Riku? And being able to spontaneously emerge from his body to neutralize the evil one and leave behind an empty replica for Namine, who is also in this game by the way? The fuck?

- This whole sequence serves as a great illustration of the problems that come with having too big a cast. Terra gets his Hero Moment back in the Graveyard (and virtually the same one in the maze), but he gets written out of the action pretty quick. Aqua and Ven do too, as do Axel, Mickey, Riku, Kairi (still not back to her yet); all the Keyblade Wielders of Light get shoved out of the way rather unceremoniously unless the time for their one brief flash of brilliance (if they even get one), while the bulk of the story is driven by the antagonists. But as I said, the members of Organization XIII are still not very interesting, and there are too many of them for any one to stand out.

- What the fuck is Xion doing back here? She barely made sense as a character in 358/2 Days, but her death was one of the very last to have any sense of permanence, and to give the concept any meaning in this world. That’s now undermined even worse than it already was. On top of that, it seems obvious to me now that all those conversations between Ansem and “Ansem” that I thought might be alluding to Kairi’s part were actually about this blank slate of a character.

- And now we’re back to Kairi.

Xehanort cutting her down didn’t surprise me. I’ve been expecting something like this to happen from early on in the game, though I wasn’t sure whether it would be Sora or Kairi who was killed. In part, this is because I stumbled on some sad fan art that, though lacking any description or anything to tell me that it was a moment from the actual game, was tagged “spoilers” and made me nervous. A bigger tell for me was the fact that most of the Disney movies used have a moment of sacrifice for a loved one. Meg shoves Hercules aside, and Herc in turn offers his life for Meg’s; Eugene gives up his chance to be healed to free Rapunzel from Mother Gothel; Anna rushes forward to take a blow for Elsa; and Tadashi and Baymax both sacrifice themselves in Big Hero 6. At World’s End also sees the lovers Will and Elizabeth cruelly separated by Will’s death, with Jack sacrificing his chance of immortality to give them some measure of happiness.

Between that, and all the taunting by Organization XIII, there was a sense of foreboding early on in my play-through that something was going to happen to Sora and/or Kairi, and for all the missteps in the handling of their relationship over the years, those kids are still cute as hell, so I was emotionally invested. But then, in each of the worlds where a death or sacrifice happens, no connection was made by Sora, or any other character, to him and his bond with Kairi. In previous games, moments of much less importance would set him or someone else off, but not here. In some cases, that makes sense (Sora wouldn’t even be aware of the sacrifices in Big Hero 6) but for those moments that he literally bares witness to, it seemed very strange. While that was something of a relief, as it made any potential death seem less likely, it was also annoying, as I’d given the game credit for selecting worlds with the same thematic idea as a neat bit of foreshadowing that seemed destined to be an unfulfilled coincidence.

Then, when Kairi leads Sora back to the realm of light, Sora has a brief flash of Eugene and Anna’s sacrifices, and the connection was finally made. (Will’s death gets left out of the count for some reason.) It was very little, very late in the game, but it was something, and I started expecting a death again. But this was after the neglect of Kairi’s character and of her relationship with Sora became apparent, and the emotional investment did not return - at least not in full force.

It is rather cliche, killing the heroine (or letting her die) to motivate the hero, but that’s not a reason not to do it if it can serve the story and be executed effectively. Given how important Sora and Kairi are to each other, it’s the ultimate extreme that you can take with their arc. So I can’t object to the idea out of hand. And had Kairi been kept a prominent presence throughout the game and her training as a Keyblade Wielder made apparent and meaningful, her being cut down after demonstrating skill and bravery would have made for an extremely powerful moment.

That’s not what we got.

What we got was everything I objected to in my last post about Kairi, with a vengeance, in this entire section of the game. While I didn’t have the same experience of her being an incompetent battle partner that others have (she even pulled off a quick heal in a pivotal moment), she (and Axel) could have been removed and I wouldn’t have had any more trouble with those bosses. Of all the Seven Lights, Kairi’s consistently the one with the least screen time and the least to do in the cutscenes. The way Xemnas and Xehanort handle her, she’s reduced to a prop, a passive object. And when the moment of slaying comes, it lacks the dramatic flare and emphasis that was given to the deaths of literally every single member of Organization XIII, or to the revivals of Terra and Xion. This - the death of our supposed tritagonist, who is the prime motivating force for our hero and who plays a vital role within this fictional universe as a Princess of Light - is quickly tossed out and moved past.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this is not about Kairi being a favorite character of mine (until she’s developed more, I can’t call her that.) This is a character who is supposed to be important. Not just important, but central. You can’t maintain the credibility of that idea if you leave this character sidelined for game after game after game, and only ever trot her out for when the plot requires something to happen to her. Again, the moment where Kairi tells Sora “you’re safe with me” is a good moment. Sora’s cry of “why her?” is striking; the implication is, basically, “out of all my friends that you could have killed, she was the one I would choose to save,” and that is a powerful moment. But moments can’t cut it on an arc this important, not after three games disregarded it and this one spent nearly all its time on the convoluted mess of the villains’ scheming.

That no one in the development process of KH III (to say nothing of the games between it and II) ever realized this, or recognized the problems that it would cause at the climax of this, the culmination of the entire series up to this point, is truly baffling, and I can’t imagine that there’s any way that the story can dig itself out of this mess in the short time remaining on the game.

#critique #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #kairi #commentary #disney #z's crits

[thatmasquedgirl]

Monsters in the Mirror Q&A

MONSTERS JUST TURNED 3 TODAY Y’ALL

In honor of this big event, I decided to answer a few questions about the Monsters series.  Here are the big ones--and some of the ones you sent in. :)

What was your inspiration for this fic?  How did it come to you?

I was on the way home from class.  At that time, my drive an hour and a half long, and I had some of my best ideas then.  I have no idea where it came from, but all I remember was asking myself, “What if Felicity was Deathstroke?”  The next thing I knew, I had an entire backstory for Felicity already written.

What’s your favorite part of the fic?

There’s a scene in “Well-Oiled Machine” that rarely gets noticed, but that I love.  It’s the one where Felicity is talking to “Bobby.”  It’s a very dark little scene, in that Felicity is more or less threatening this man with a smile on her face.  She may not use weapons to torture him, but there’s definitely some psychological torture going on there.  In that moment, she’s more vicious than Oliver.  I think it really shows the concept of her character and how dark she can really be sometimes.

What part of the fic are you most proud of?

The first scene of “Raining Pitchforks.”  It was at that point that I really took time to establish Felicity’s character; before that, I had no clue what I was doing.  So that was critical to everything that came afterward.  It was also damn hard to write because I was crying in agony the entire time.  When Felicity hurts, I hurt.

What part of the fic are you still dissatisfied with?

Just in general, I feel like there are some continuity issues that I really need to resolve.  Which I hope to do with a few more rewrites that I’d like to do this month.  As a whole, I’m really thrilled with the directions this universe has taken because it feels rich and exciting all the time to write in.

Who is your favorite character in the fic?

Felicity.  I am fascinated by her development from seemingly normal, pre-Japan Felicity to the woman we first saw in “Stroke of Luck.”  I’m equally obsessed with taking the woman we saw in “Stroke of Luck” and continuing her journey and character arc through the seasons.

Where there any major decisions you made about the fic that could have made it go a whole different direction?

Actually, no.  Monsters has been pretty much set in stone since the beginning.

Was there anything you only learned about the fic after you started posting it (themes, motifs, symbolism, etc.)?

Felicity’s swords kind of became the symbol of the past she clings to so desperately--for me at least.  She doesn’t move on from Japan; she holds onto it to the point of unhealthy obsession.  And I think that’s okay.  I think she deserves to wallow in it.  She deserves to be angry for this horrible thing that happened to her.  But I think eventually she’ll have to let go, in order to heal and progress.

Did anyone in this fic surprise me by doing anything?  If so, what?

It really surprised me that Tommy and McKenna had a past fling.  I didn’t expect that.  Nor did I plan for Felicity to wake up growling at Oliver in either version of “Stroke of Luck.”  There’s a plot point in Part 2 of “Rake the Ashes” that I didn’t expect to happen, as well (which we’ll talk about next Friday).  I didn’t plan to have Tommy and Felicity have that heart-to-heart in “Bite the Bullet.”  That just happened, and it filled a plot hole rather conveniently.

If you had to sum up this fic in a sentence, what would it be?

Oliver encounters the Vengeance of Starling while on a mission, and the two gradually blossom into a mutually beneficial--and supportive--partnership.

If you were to rewrite this fic, what would you change?

See for yourself.  I just reposted “Stroke of Luck” with new updates.

Did anything about this fic’s reception surprise me?

I thought it was a ridiculous idea as soon as I had it, but I decided to go with it.  That anyone read it at all is still a complete shock to me.  That people love it still blows my mind.

What were my beta’s major comments about the first draft of this fic?

I ran the concept of “Stroke of Luck” by @itwasaromanticoverture the first time, and she told me I should do the thing.  And when @bushlaboo looked over the revision for me, the response was pretty enthusiastic about the major changes.  She actually made the suggestion that lead to the decision to have Felicity come up fighting.  ElsieB was my beta for “Bite the Bullet,” and she seemed to enjoy it, despite the fact I threw 50 pages of fic at her with no warning.

If I were to write a Season 2 of this series, what would it entail?

I think there would be a major difference in Felicity as we progress.  Sara’s part in Season 2 would be important for Felicity and Oliver both.  And I honestly think I’d play up Isabel Rochev more than on the show, though not necessarily in the same ways.

What scene did you first put down?

The very first.  Usually the way I start is the way I finish.  If I write scenes out of order, they tend not to get finished.

What’s your favorite line of narration and dialogue?

Doing these together because they’re connected and both from “Rake the Ashes” today:

With the sweetest smile he’s ever seen, Felicity declares, “I’d go to war to save you, Oliver Queen.  Nothing in her expression makes him doubt that; that smile was made for battle.

What part was hardest to write?

The parts that aren’t finished yet.  I’m uncomfortable with how large my unfinished works are.  AO3 says I’ve published about 110k words.  My complete collection says I have about 170k--and that’s before all of “Rake the Ashes” goes in.  So there’s at least 60k words of Monsters that y’all haven’t seen yet.

What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

Honestly, I have no idea.  It’s my favorite thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of writing, though.  I think it’s because I have a female character who is allowed to be angry.  She’s allowed to be dark and vulnerable and gritty and sad without anyone telling her she’s wrong.  Sometimes we all need to be those things.

Where did the title come from?

It actually comes from lyrics from two of my favorite songs, “Sleep” by My Chemical Romance and “The Devil in the Mirror” by Black Veil Brides.  To me, “Sleep” has always been a song that celebrates the darkness in all of us.  In a stark contrast, “The Devil in the Mirror” is about having that darkness, knowing it’s there, and fighting it to become something better.  I feel like those two things very much fit Oliver and Felicity in this universe.

Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

There was a very early version where Laurel discovered that Felicity was the Japan survivor and warned both Oliver and Tommy about Felicity’s background and how Donna tried to have her committed.  Much of her backstory would’ve been revealed at that time.  It was scrapped as other ideas evolved.  And besides, I can’t reveal too much at one time--I have issues with the Exposition Fairy suddenly visiting.

There was also a version where Oliver and Thea are eating at Big Belly Burger and run into Felicity and Roy there, and that’s how they initially meet.  I scrapped that one when “Well-Oiled Machine” came together.

What do you like best about this fic?

I love that Felicity, this normally bright and happy character in canon, is darker and grittier here.  It’s kind of cool because I try to mix in aspects of her canonical personality with this one, and it makes this really complicated set of layers to her.

One of the biggest reasons I keep coming back is that every addition just opens more doors.  Often times as a writer, the more I delve into a universe, the more rigid it becomes.  Possibilities are closed as the characters make choices, and the path becomes more and more clear.  The more trapped I feel, the less I want to work with it because it feels like I lose that creative freedom.

However, every time I step back into Monsters, it feels like the very first time.  Possibilities don’t close; they just continue to open.  And that freedom and excitement keeps me coming back to it.

What do you like least about this fic?

Writing the damn thing out of order.  There are so many continuity errors scattered around that it drives me bananas.

What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story?

Monsters has its own playlist on my iTunes.  Actually, it has several--I tend to create a new one every year, modify songs on it, update it with my purchases and favorites, and it evolves the same way the series does.

The Monsters 2018 playlist currently consists of 627 songs and that’s the smallest it’s been since its inception in 2015.  (It was 355 then, but to be fair, I didn’t start it until September or so.)

The music on it tends to be more metal and rock.  It isn’t a beautiful playlist by any means.  It’s gritty and dark, but there’s also some softness to it in places.

There’s an incomplete version of this playlist on Spotify, if you want to check it out.

Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

It’s okay to be broken.  It’s okay not to be perfect.  It’s okay not to feel like you’re enough.  It’s okay to be scarred.  If you keep fighting your demons long enough, you’ll eventually win, and you’ll be better for it.

Strength of character isn’t given.  It’s earned.

What did you learn from writing this fic?

Everyone is battling a monster in their mirror, but it doesn’t have to define you.  It can become the thing that shapes you into the person you need to be.

Submitted Questions

@imusuallyobsessed​ asked:  What are your hardest scenes to write and why?

My hardest scenes usually involve difficult situations or different character perspectives.  Fight scenes can be incredibly difficult sometimes, just because there’s so much motion and flow.  I tend to get in a panic writing them, so they come off hurried and sloppy.  Then I have to go back and make it resemble something like writing.

Certain perspectives are tough because I have trouble getting into some characters’ minds (which ties in with another question you asked).  John Diggle has to be the most difficult character perspective to write from.  There’s just something about how he presents himself that I always have trouble with.  But I never stop; I just torment myself with it.

@imusuallyobsessed​ asked:  What are your easiest scenes to write and why?

Surprisingly, some of my favorites are Felicity-perspective fight scenes.  I just said how I hate action, but when I’m in her perspective, it’s far easier to work with.  I have no idea why that is.

Also, Olicity banter comes from deep inside me.  Ninety percent of their time, their banter isn’t edited and is exactly what you end up reading in the finished product.

@imusuallyobsessed asked:  What are your hardest characters to write and why?

John Diggle is a freaking disaster.  Always.  There’s something about that man that keeps me from getting inside his head and conveying him the way I want to on paper.

Laurel Lance also tops that list, mainly because I dislike her canon characterization or lack thereof so much.  When I write her into a fic, I usually hollow her out to her basic, defining characteristics and build a new personality in there myself.  Usually I feel like she comes off one-dimensional anyway.

@imusuallyobsessed asked:  What are your easiest characters to write and why?

Tommy is one of my all-time faves.  He’s 100% unproblematic to write because he’s always going to react in certain ways and he doesn’t carry the baggage that burdens characters like Oliver and Felicity.

Roy is also up there on the list.  Roy Harper is the sass master of my heart.  He gets all the saltiest lines that I don’t get the chance to say in daily conversation.

Anonymous asked:  For #MITM, I know throughout the one shots we’ve seen a lot of UST, and when Felicity gets wounded badly, we find out they both love each other, but still don’t feel like they’re in a healthy enough place to be in a relationship.  Does that ever change?  Do they end up together?

Of course things change, and of course they end up together!  I know it doesn’t look like there’s method to my madness, but I have a general plot for at least five seasons in this universe.

I plan to take my time with this series, so if you’re looking for a quick resolution, you’re going to be disappointed.  Olicity has always been about the journey for me, instead of the destination.  If I didn’t want them to happen, I wouldn’t write them together.

I currently have Olicity plotted for Season 2, barring any unforeseen narratives, and I’d really like to put some quality time in on this universe this year.  I have too many words of fic hanging around unfinished.

#monsters in the mirror #fic by masque #3rd anniversary of monsters

[lothirielswanmarvel]

Beware the tricks and tragedy in the Collector’s Cosmic Romance Saga! A twisted tale awaits those brave enough to read it. Dare to dive into the story of Evangeline Green, who finds herself thwarted by galactic forces and steamy love affairs. Keep your wits about you on this journey full of gods, men, and monsters.

~H E L H E I M, 2 0 1 7~

She felt his presence the minute he crossed into the realm.

Everything else was dead and lifeless. The whisper of breath carried across bones and ash and forgotten things. It disturbed the neverending silence that stretched out across the realm like a numbing drug.

Hela, the Goddess of Death, peered at him. She knew no one would come to visit her—not after Surtur destroyed Asgard. Not like anyone did before, except for Frigga in dreams.

Hela’s cloak dragged behind her as she walked. Already it was decaying, the shining emerald satin succumbing to a moldy black. It teared easily, and already housed many gaping holes, like open mouths moaning.

Helheim was dark and full of shadows. There was no sun in the sky, no source of light. Just a permanent dimness. Hela squinted at the one shadow that moved.

“Did the pathetic princes of Asgard put you up to this?” She sneered at the recent memories of them. Thor was just as he was when he was born: too enthusiastic, and too whiny. He ended up like Odin in the end: banishing her, just because his lover told him death was too harsh. The men in Hela’s family were cowards.

“Are you here to gloat? To mock? Or, perhaps, maybe you’ve come to finish the job—”

As Hela stalked forward towards the tall stranger, she stiffened. She was the Goddess of Death, and with that title came the ability to sense things. She could feel how many times someone had been close to death...or how much life they had taken in return. The second was undeniably strong.

The figure started to turn.

“My job,” His voice was deep and grim with determination. “has nothing to do with you.”

She knew his name before she saw his face. Because she had met all the countless spirits and corpses and broken left in his wake.

Thanos.

“Hmm,” A hand rose beneath Hela’s chin as she studied the titan. “If you’re not here because of me, then why are you trespassing in my realm?”

“You mean your prison?” Thanos said.

If looks could kill, Hela’s glare could. And, on the weak, it usually did.

Thanos did not flinch or show the slightest hint of discomfort.

“I’ve heard of you. The Goddess of Death,” The titan glanced down at the boots of his armor. The glimmering gold contrasted with the darkness of the realm. It reminded Hela of Asgard. It reminded her of home, of hope, of victory.

“I heard about your centuries of conquest, before the Allfather cast you out,” Thanos admitted. “I have to admit, I was...impressed by your work.”

Hela smirked. Bones and plate armor crunched underneath her as she neared the only other living person for miles.

“Your determination is astounding. My favorite daughter, Gamora...when I first met her, her green complexion reminded me of you.”

“If you think flattery will stop me from killing you, it won't.” Hela remarked.

“You haven't killed me yet,” He pointed out.

“I'm bored,” She sniffed, folding her arms. “I asked you a question, and you ignored it. Why are you here?”

Thanos glanced around the wasteland. It wasn't like there was a coffee shop nearby to sit and chat; the rocks all seemed to form into long, jagged spikes, and the ground was littered with dried blood and the fallen.

He found the flattest rock nearby and sat at the base. His right hand rested atop his left as he sat.

Hela’s eyebrow rose at his makeshift seat. With a slender, bone-white hand, she gestured lazily at the ground. The bones shifted and made a haunting knocking noise as they came together. Hela smiled as she sat upon her new throne, just sitting slightly higher than Thanos’ perch.

Thanos said, “I am here because I am looking for the infinity stones.”

He uncovered his left hand, where one violet stone glittered on a golden gauntlet.

Hela hid her surprise at the most powerful relic in the universe. She leaned back in her makeshift chair, “There aren't any here. And if there were, you wouldn't get them.”

Thanos cocked his head, as if questioning the statement.

Hela huffed, “If I had an infinity stone, do you think I would be sitting here…? In this prison?”

Thanos bowed his head. “Fair enough.”

“So why search for the most powerful weapons in the universe?” Hela could not tear her eyes away from the violet stone. It was the only source of light in this underworld, and it belonged to the intruder. The enemy.

“Because everything else in this universe is finite. People take more than they give...I saw my world crumble to dust and ruin because people took too much. I have a solution.”

Hela’s head slowly tilted to the side, “And your solution is...you want to take people.”

Thanos nodded once.

“You speak of genocide.” It was a topic full of tension, yet Hela had no issue saying the word out loud.

“At random. Fair, yet merciless.” Thanos explained.

“Hmm,” Hela steepled her fingers and studied the titan as she thought.

He wanted to play god. Just like Ego—Hela remembered that annoying life form, and was pleased when she learned of his death. Both were mad, but they had the power to fulfill their intentions. Asgard was gone. Her power was gone.

Hela shifted in her seat. She could tolerate the being sitting in front of her. If she waited long enough, stayed close to his side...those stones could be hers. The titan stank of death—perhaps joining him on his little quest could be entertaining. But those details were meaningless. Hela could have what was finally hers. And...she could satisfy the vengeance she now craved on the so-called “king” of Asgard.

“You hold a valid point,” Hela remarked, sitting up in her chair. “You speak the truth. I’d like to lend my assistance to your cause.”

The titan actually looked excited. “You would?”

“Of course,” She smirked when the next words rolled off her tongue, “perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Thanos left his rocky perch behind, and kneeled before the Goddess of Death. “Hela, Goddess of Death, rightful queen of fallen Asgard and...the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon, I would be honored if you were by my side as we purified the universe together.”

Her eyes widened, but she forced herself to nod and look formal. Thanos’ admiration of her went a lot deeper than she realized. It worked in her favor.

She stood and dusted off the chalky residue of bone from her decomposing armor. “It would be my pleasure. I simply cannot wait.”

Thanos rose, almost cheeky in his reaction. “Of course. My ships are yours, my lady.”

He gestured towards the sky. The dull, gray sky suddenly lit up with thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds, like stars in the night sky. Thanos’ army. It was the most beautiful thing Hela had ever seen.

The largest structure hovered over them, darkening the shadows further. A long pole of blue light reached down from the ship. Hela’s eyes seared from the new light source.

Gravity was forgotten. Hela was flying. She was soaring over her prison, she was free. The nine realms were at her fingertips, and possibly more. Oh, if only Odin could see her now…

The blinding light faded away. The dark confines of the ship surrounded them now; Hela didn't mind the darkness too much. The smell was certainly better.

A thin, balding creature stood before them and bowed low. “Dark lord. Lady Hela, Goddess of Death. I am Ebony Maw.”

Thanos leaned towards her, murmuring out of the corner of his mouth, “He's my executioner.”

Hela’s eyes lit up. “You have an executioner?”

“Of course: executioners—”

“Execute your vision,” The two finished. Hela found herself smiling.

“I actually have four executioners: I call them the Black Order,” Thanos told her with pride.

“Four? That's a little much.”

Thanos did a double-take. “...You know what, you’re right. I could kill off a few—”

Maw’s beady eyes widened. His pale complexion discolored to a milky white.

“No, I don't think those extremes will be necessary.” Hela replied. “You do have quite an army, after all.”

“We have an army.”

Ebony Maw looked back and forth between the two mass murderers of the galaxy with an expression of distaste. The contort of Maw’s face faded when Thanos’ attention returned to him, “Have you located the nearest infinity stone?”

“Yes, sire. We have discovered the space stone on a large ship. It originates from Sakaar...but we have leads informing us that Asgardian refugees are also on board.”

Hela stilled. She remembered that flying piece of trash, hovering in the sky. That had to be it.

Thanos glanced down at her. “We will pursue the ship, and you can extract revenge on those cumbersome fools for casting you out—”

“No.”

Maw flinched at the sudden outburst. Thanos simply blinked with shock.

Hela regained her composure quickly. “My brother is on that ship...I want to destroy him.”

Her smirk returned. “I want to destroy him...when I have destroyed everything else. When all of the infinity stones are found, when the nine realms are mine. I will make that hammer-obsessed idiot wait, and then…”

Her hands crumpled into fists. “I will destroy Thor Odinson, and everyone else who would stand in my way.”

Thanos reached for one of her tight fists, and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Revenge is almost as sweet as you, my lady.”

#the collectors cosmic romance saga #thanos #hela #hela odinsdottir #thor #thor odinson #thor x reader #peter quill #peter quill x reader #avengers #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #avengers fic #tony stark #steve rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanov #sam wilson #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #tchalla #shuri #peter parker #stephen strange #doctor strange

[polishandpaperbacks]

Hey everyone! Today on the blog I have an excerpt post from one of my favorite author’s next books, Chosen. Chosen is the second book in the series, and it takes place in the world of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Presumably there are spoilers from the first book below this line, so don’t read on if you haven’t read Slayer. Instead, go out and buy Slayer and devour it immediately!

Nina continues to learn how to use her slayer powers against enemies old and new in this second novel in the New York Times bestselling series from Kiersten White, set in the world of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now that Nina has turned the Watcher’s Castle into a utopia for hurt and lonely demons, she’s still waiting for the utopia part to kick in. With her sister Artemis gone and only a few people remaining at the castle—including her still-distant mother—Nina has her hands full. Plus, though she gained back her Slayer powers from Leo, they’re not feeling quite right after being held by the seriously evil succubus Eve, a.k.a. fake Watcher’s Council member and Leo’s mom. And while Nina is dealing with the darkness inside, there’s also a new threat on the outside, portended by an odd triangle symbol that seems to be popping up everywhere, in connection with Sean’s demon drug ring as well as someone a bit closer to home. Because one near-apocalypse just isn’t enough, right? The darkness always finds you. And once again, it’s coming for the Slayer.

And onto the Excerpt!

Chapter 1 1

THE DEMON APPEARS OUT OF nowhere. Claws and fangs fill my sight, and every instinct screams kill. My blood sings with it, my fists clench, my vision narrows. The vulnerable points on the demon’s body practically flash like neon signs. “Foul!” Rhys shouts. “No teleportation, Tsip! You know that.” Even while playing, Rhys can’t help but be a Watcher, shouting out both advice and corrections. He’s not wearing his glasses, which makes his face look vague and undefined. Cillian passes him, mussing Rhys’s carefully parted hair into wild curls and laughing at Rhys’s frustration. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head of the impulse to kill this demon I invited into our home and swore to protect. “It’s just soccer,” I whisper. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even like soccer.” “Football, bloody American,” Cillian sings, neatly stealing the ball from me. His shorts are far shorter than the January afternoon should permit, but he seems impervious to cold. Unlike those of us who are translucently pale at this point in winter, his skin is rich and lovely. He passes to Tsip. Tsip is a vaguely opalescent pink, shimmering in the sunlight. She paints her claws fun colors when we do manicure nights, and I try desperately not to miss Artemis. I stay rooted to the ground where I’m standing. Tsip caught me off guard, but that shouldn’t matter. I like her. And the fact that I went from trying to score a goal to plotting a dozen ways to kill my opponent in a single heartbeat is frankly terrifying. I can’t get my heart under control, can’t shake the adrenaline screaming through my veins. “Gotta take over for the Littles. I’m out.” I wave and jog from the field. No one pays me much attention. Jade is lying on the ground in front of the goal, the worst goalkeeper ever. Rhys and Cillian are bodychecking each other in increasingly flirty ways. Tsip keeps shimmering and then resolidifying as she remembers the no-teleportation rule. They’re all happy to keep going without me, unaware of my internal freak-out. I’ve deliberately kept them unaware. Things here are going so well. I’m in charge. I can’t be the problem. So none of them know how I can’t sleep at night, how my anger is hair-trigger fast, how when I do manage to sleep, my dreams are … Well. Bad. They don’t need to know and I don’t let them. Except for Doug, his bright yellow skin almost nineties Day-Glo levels in the thin winter sun. Annoying emotion-sniffing demon. He watches me from our goal, his nostrils flared. I can’t lie to him the way I can to everyone else. I shake my head preemptively. I don’t want to talk about it. Not with him. Not with anyone. There’s only one person I want to talk to about it, but Leo Silvera’s not exactly available. I do a quick sweep of the perimeter of the castle. Leo loved me. Check the woods. Leo betrayed me. Check the locks on the outbuildings. Leo saved me. Pause and just listen and look, feeling for anything pushing against my instincts. I let Leo die. I keep walking. Leo loved me, betrayed us, saved us, and then died, and I can’t be sad without being mad or mad without feeling guilty or guilty without feeling exhausted. Past the meadow, the tiny purple demons are taking turns pushing each other on the tree swing. That, or they’re trying to push each other off. It’s hard to tell with them. With nothing else needing my attention outside, I end up at the front stairs to the castle. “Hey, Jessi.” I wave halfheartedly to our resident vengeance demon. She’s leading the Littles through an elaborate game of hopscotch. George Smythe, bundled up and barely able to see under a floppy knit hat, is shouting each letter as he lands on it. “G!” “What?” Jessi snaps at me. “E!” “I can take over for you.” I find the Littles soothing. They might be three incredibly hyper children constantly needing snacks, entertainment, and education, but at least none of them ever randomly triggers a kill reflex in me. “A!” “No,” Jessi says, her voice as sweet as summer fruit. “G-E-what-comes-next …” “O!” George course corrects, wobbling on one short leg before jumping to the required O. “Good! Oh, you’re so clever. Priya, how are your letters coming?” Priya, a tiny moppet with shiny black hair, is crouched over her own chalk work, which looks more like Klingon than any alphabet I’m familiar with. “Very good, darling! You’re really working hard. Hold the chalk with one hand, like we talked about. Thea, love, fingers out of noses, please—that’s a dear.” And to think, we once considered these children the entire future of the Watchers. I watch as Thea spins until she falls flat on her bottom. Actually, the future of the Watchers is pretty accurately captured here. I pat Jessi on the arm. “So, you can take the afternoon off.” Everything sweet in Jessi’s voice turns to ice. “I said no. I don’t trust you with these three precious wonders. We have an entire day’s curriculum to get through, and we haven’t even done story time yet or finished our art projects. Are you going to do any of that with them?” “I—I could?” “You were going to turn on a cartoon and read while their fertile minds were filled with weeds.” Jessi doesn’t have her powers anymore, but I’m pretty certain if she did, I would have been vengeance-demoned right into something oozing and seeping. She’s already turned away from me and back to her three charges. Her whole face is full of gentle warmth and absolute love. “R!” George declares, hopping emphatically down on it. Jessi claps like he’s cured the common cold. Thoroughly dismissed, I skulk up the stairs and into the castle. Jessi could at least pretend to be nice. She’s got a lot of enemies out there—vengeance is a nasty cycle—and without her powers she’s vulnerable. We took her in despite her obvious hatred for everyone over the age of ten. There was some debate, given her history, but my mom argued in her favor. It’s a little easier to forgive a vengeance demon who made it her immortal life’s work to avenge children than a vengeance demon who specialized in, say, fantasy league sports rivalries. But Jessi’s dismissal leaves me with nothing to do. I used to have my medical center and my studies, all my little Watcher duties. Even with so few of us, the castle ran as near to Watcher traditions as we could manage. Which in retrospect was absurd, since we didn’t have a Slayer and weren’t actually doing anything Watchers should. But now everything has changed. We lost Watchers—Wanda Wyndam-Pryce, sulking off into the sunset, good riddance. Bradford Smythe, murdered. Eve Silvera, secretly a succubus demon and murderer, smushed thanks to my actions. Artemis, off to find herself with her awful girlfriend, the thought of whom makes my jaw ache as I grind my teeth. And Leo, who didn’t warn us what his mother was (and what he was) but fought her to give us enough time to stop her from opening a new hellmouth. And now we have a Slayer, again some more, thanks to Leo somehow returning the powers his mother stole from me. I don’t know how he did it, and it hurts too much to think about, like everything else. I spend so much of my days trying not to think, and it’s harder than it should be. I used to believe that all Slayers did was act without thinking. I was wrong, but I wish it were true. There’s so little acting and so much thinking these days. It’s good. It’s all good. It’s good, I remind myself, over and over like a chant. Sanctuary, what we decided to turn our castle into, is just starting out, but it’s exactly what we dreamed it could be. We’ve taken in demons who had nowhere else to go. We’re keeping them safe, and ourselves safe, and we’ll keep looking for those who could benefit from the generations of knowledge and abilities we have. We’re protecting, not attacking or destroying. Between our new demonic additions and existing Watchers, everyone has tasks and times to do them. It’s more work than anyone anticipated, keeping everyone taken care of and fed, making sure the castle runs like it should. But so far everyone is happy. Everyone is safe. I sink down against the wall, feeling the cold of the stone radiating outward. The unpellis demon, all four gentle eyes soft and brown and hopeful, snuggles up to my side like a dog. It’s more animal than human in nature, nonverbal, and still recovering from its frequent de-skinning treatment in Sean’s demon-drug manufacturing scheme. I saved Pelly from that cellar. I didn’t save everyone, though. I wrap my arms around Pelly and close my eyes. Everything is exactly what we dreamed it could be. Except I feel Leo’s loss everywhere, and I miss my twin, Artemis, with a constant, physical ache. And, worst of all, with enough time after Tsip surprised me to calm down and remind my body there’s no danger … I still feel like killing something. 

_______________________________________________

And now for even better news...Chosen is on sale on January 7th!!! So go to wherever you buy your most anticipated reads and make sure Chosen is on your list. I will have a review of this one up **hopefully** within the next week or so.

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Dino Watches Anime (Dec 31)

I haven’t done one of these in over a month, and I wanted to try to get this out before the year ends! It’s still 2019 here. Here are some anime I’ve been watching recently and what I thought of them.

Recently Completed

Dr Stone

This anime turned out so well!

I was hesitant at first. The character cast lacked a bit of diversity. I thought they were relying on the main character too much, but then I realized that that wasn’t necessarily a problem. Nobody will ever be as smart as this main character, and that’s okay. Everyone in this anime still plays a purpose, and even though that really showed more in the last episodes of the show, I think we’re in for a treat next season (that and I keep hearing that from my brother, thanks Kuya). The OPs and EDs were a lot of fun to listen to, the art was really good, the OST wasn’t the most memorable but I appreciated its service, and the casting was great! I don’t think I would stand for anyone else playing Senkuu at this point. Yuusuke Kobayashi has really proven how good of a seiyuu he is in recent years. He joined a little later in life and was more apparent in other types of work. Dr. Stone was a great anime, and even though it’s not even my favourite Shonen Jump series of this year (*cough* Kimetsu no Yaiba had a way stronger impact) it’s still worth the watch.

I rated this a 9/10 on MAL

Gamers!

You know how practically every romance anime has miscommunications which “add” to the plot? Now imagine that was an anime and that’s the only thing going on. That’s what “Gamers!” is, and it’s hilarious. I think I saw a YouTube comment that perfectly summed this up.

“This anime is great but it makes me want to bang my head against a wall”

It’s pretty much that! It’s hilarious in its writing, and even though it isn’t really about gaming, it showcases different types of gamers. We have a former gamer, a guy who’s terrible but plays to have fun, a hardcore gamer, an indie developer, and one person who doesn’t even like games! They make the cast really funny and inconvenient, and the seiyuu performances add to the hilarity. Seriously, this quickly became one of my favourite Toshiyuki Toyonaga roles. I think his best works come in the form of romances? Yuri on Ice, Zetsuen on Tempest, to a lesser extent Durarara, Gamers? It’s like he has experience with romance (he has a daughter and is married). Seriously, I almost want to make a post just dedicated to this anime. It has such a low rating on MAL because it is so cheesy, cliche, and it does sometimes drive you up the wall, but isn’t that all romance anime? I was okay watching socially inept people because I am socially inept.

Episode 2 came out of nowhere with it’s cliche yet fitting dialogue.

I rated this a 9/10 because I enjoyed it so much and it was the anime I needed at the time. I can definitely see why people wouldn’t watch it though.

Irozuku Sekai no Ashita kara

I went to the other side of the romance spectrum and went with a rom-drama instead of a rom-com like Gamers! And... I feel like I enjoyed Gamers! far more. Irozuku was a bit mean to colour-blind people if I’m completely honest. The characters were flat and uninteresting, but they began to get personality in... episode 8 or something? Also, being colour-blind isn’t as big of a deal as this anime makes it seem. They were so fast to say a girl was from the future but wanted to keep it a secret that she’s colour-blind? She also has no personality because she’s colour-blind? In fact, her personality is that she’s colour-blind? Did I mention she’s colour-blind? Anyway, the ending was conclusive but still left some unfinished ends. P.A. Works made this anime beautiful, I really like the OP and ED, but I ironically didn’t like the casting for this. I give praise to almost every anime for casting, but this anime couldn’t sell me on Kaori Ishihara (who is actually part of Magi which I keep commending for having one of my favourite casts) and Shoya Chiba (who was good in Dororo). The chemistry between the characters and cast didn’t work for me on this one which was sad because the ending would’ve made more of an impact if they’d gotten me more attached. The OST was also amazing so I thought I would add that. Besides that, it was a good premise (with pretty good execution), great art, an amazing OST, beautiful OPs and EDs, but subpar characters.

Asobi Asobase

At the time, Konomi Kohara, Hina Kino, and Rika Nagae didn’t really have that many roles outside of a few (well, Kohara had Tsuki ga Kirei but this really cemented her talent). This anime’s art style threw me in for a loop, and even though the humour didn’t always hit, this anime made me laugh at some points. It was vulgar, full of humour, and I’m really surprised Kino is still alive after screeching a lot. Seriously, that’s a lot. The ED is just them screeching too! Random appearances from big seiyuu are also present, and the animation by Lerche is all over the place. It sheds every essence of the innocence you thought it was going to have in ep 1 and keeps the pace going throughout.

I rated this anime a 7/10 because when humour doesn’t hit for me, it bores me.

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon

I actually didn’t enjoy Dragon Maid as much as I thought I would. That’s partially because of Quetzalcoatl. I’m sorry, but everything else besides her and a few questionable things (especially the OVA) was alright. The animation was beautiful (KyoAni is soooo good, please do the second season!!!)

The OP and ED were really catchy. I don’t think those songs will be leaving my head anytime soon. At its core, this anime was still heartwarming. The romance between the main two is one-sided but sweet. Kanna is such a cute kid, and Fafnir and Takiya are also funny. I gave this anime a 7/10 because it was still solid, just overhyped. 

Africa no Salaryman

This is mostly the same from the last time I reviewed Salaryman so if you read my past one, just skip this.

The story for this anime is mediocre, the animation is really bad, the music is poor, and it was still a fun anime. It’s one of those terrible anime that you end up kind of liking. Have you ever wanted to see a mix of bad CG and limited 2D animation by a studio that has no other notable anime (besides a flop from 2018)? Have you ever wanted to hear the villains of BNHA (All For One, Overhaul, and Dabi) voicing weird safari animals with quirky side characters? Seriously, they took the money that they should’ve put into animation and hired a bunch of famous seiyuu who seem to be having fun. We have Eri Kitamura, Yui Ogura, Akio Otsuka, Kenjiro Tsuda, Hiro Shimono, Toshiyuki Toyonaga, Kengo Kawanishi, Akira Ishida, Hiroshi Kamiya, Tatsuhisa Suzuki, etc. It’s a lot of fun guessing them. Overall, this anime was pretty average. I wouldn’t recommend it unless they intended to watch the seiyuu (which is the only thing really going here)

And the ending itself wasn’t eventful either so I gave this anime a 5/10.

Ani ni Tsukeru Kusuri wa Nai! 3

This is mostly the same from the last time I reviewed this so if you read my past one, just skip this.

Another (slightly better animated) bad anime. It’s a collab between Japanese and Chinese studios (but is originally Chinese), but since Japanese dubbing is far more accessible, I went with that dub. Sora Amamiya, Yuuichi Nakamura, Kensho Ono, and Natsuki Hanae are part of the main cast here. Nothing is really notable besides the story. The sibling thing is kind of relatable. This anime ended recently, and it ended on a good note. The quality didn’t go down, and it kept more of the sibling and stupid antics from the first season. I liked that. I rated this a 7/10 because the art isn’t as clean as most anime, and some of the humour missed.

Bokutachi wa Benkyou ga Dekinai!

This is mostly the same from the last time I reviewed this so if you read my past one, just skip this.

However, I added some stuff regarding the ending of this season.

I will eventually stop wasting my time with these bad romance series, but *cough* I need to fill my depressive void with something, and somehow other’s awkward situations distract me from my own. I mean, this feels like an anime that was supposed to fill the void that Nisekoi left after finishing in Shonen Jump. Hopefully, this time he’ll end up with the right girl. As usual in a lot of harems, the main character has several bad choices. But the overall message and whatever’s left of the plot is really nice and entertaining. The characters are actually intriguing when the fanservice isn’t glaring in your face. I hated how they ended this season. I get they didn’t want to make another season, but stretching an anime-only ending? That just sucks. They were going so well until the last few minutes too. The school festival arc was really nice and sweet. Overall, I still liked the second season. Minus the ending, it was just as strong, if not stronger, than the first. Together with the school festival and Furuhashi’s development, I really enjoyed this. I rated this an 8/10 (but it’s a higher 8 and was only hurt by the ending)

Ore wo Suki nano wa Omae dake ka yo

This is mostly the same from the last time I reviewed this so if you read my past one, just skip this.

However, I added some stuff regarding the ending of this season.

Everyone in this anime is a scumbag in one way or another. Everyone has their bad sides, and unlike a lot of series, this anime isn’t afraid to put them front in centre. This contrasts nicely with Bokuben which is mentioned above. Both are centred around harems, but this one is everything turned on its head with vengeance. Protag? May have a Deku voice, but he’s a pervert that’s described for being “Jekyll and Mr Hyde” which I find interesting because he’s truly nice to his best friend and doesn’t want to betray him, but he also really, really, really likes girls and would want nothing more than to have several of them all to himself. Best friend? Jealous as heck and would probably stab him if things truly went south, but he’s also his wingman. Class president? Talks like a samurai sometimes when nervous and uses MC. Childhood best friend? Terrible liar and uses MC. Then there’s a whole bunch of other people who use everyone. The score is not that great. It’s better than silence, but it hasn’t really been anything above that. The OP is catchy, but I’m not sure if I like it? The ED is nice. The voice acting for this anime is PERFECT for the MC anyway. Daiki Yamashita is really good at acting like this animal of an MC. 

I didn’t really feel satisfied with the ending of this season. It wasn’t as funny, and they relied too much on the 4th wall to make the last episode funny. It lacked the hijinks and chaos of the first episodes, and even though it kept character development and stuff throughout, this is the one time I wanted them to end on a less obvious note. I rated it an 8/10

Enen no Shouboutai

Okay, so they began picking up their act within the last few episodes and it shows, but that doesn’t mean everything in-between was saved because it wasn’t. After episode 2, this show plummets and doesn’t pick up in quality until episode 19 or something. To me, that makes this show not worth it. I almost want to make a post about the rise, fall, and slight rise of this anime.

The animation production is amazing, the first OP and the EDs are awesome (couldn’t say that the second OP lived up but it wasn’t bad), the voice acting was alright at most points (can’t say I’m a fan of hearing Asta), but the story went off the rails and was executed poorly during the majority of the series.

I gave this a 6/10. Maaya Sakamoto’s character tried to save the day, but Maki also saved it the best she could.

Kono Oto Tomare! 2nd Season

This went so slow and the manga’s art is so beautiful that the anime looks like a sad outline, but I really liked this overall. Just for hearing their performance, it was all worth it. Trust me, the sound makes it worth it, but if you like visuals, read the manga. The voice acting is good for establishing what you can imagine the character voices add, but the art in the manga is too pretty to pass up.

Sankarea

I just finished this today! I originally dropped it because of its uncomfortable content but picked it back up because Maaya Uchida’s birthday just passed and I wanted a bit more horror before we roll on into 2020. Was this the way to do it? I mean, the horror is very light so that’s good. I can sleep at night. Quality-wise? Hmm... Along with the special episodes 13, 14, and 0! Honestly, these last two anime are ecchi. I don’t know how I got here.

The story is a pretty cool concept. Imagine the idea of a story surrounding a guy (zombie-obsessed or not) helping this girl fulfill her lifelong dreams of being normal even though she’s an undead zombie. Slowly as time passes, her flesh begins to rot so he realizes he has to work faster to complete her wishes to make her life seem “normal”. Taking her to the park, shopping, walking her to school, this seems like a good set-up! If only it went that way.

The story was okay, but I found this anime was going a bit on the ridiculous side. It got cartoony at times, and the characters were a bit cringy at times. Characters in this series ship this character with the MC who certainly isn’t keeping a zombie girl around for no reason. Well, anyway, this girl that the characters keep shipping him with... is his cousin. And Sanka Rea’s dad... is a very uncomfortable character as well. Overall, these two elements are actually what made this anime extremely uncomfortable at times.

I liked the art for this despite all the ecchi. I liked the quirky character designs of our main two characters. Some of the head tilts from Studio Deen almost felt Shaft-esque. It was not that bad!

Umm... I never actually paid attention to the OP, ED, or OST because I was too busy skipping the ecchi. Maaya Uchida was a really cute zombie that made me really like Rea more than I would towards regular zombies (except for maybe the ones from Zombieland Saga). Ryohei Kimura was a pretty good zombie otaku. That’s about it for this one. I gave it a 5/10.

Junketsu no Maria

Another ecchi anime! They didn’t even categorize it as such, but the site I watched it on did. Seriously, I don’t know how MAL didn’t process this as one. Anime that criticize wars and the Catholic church (even fictionally) make me feel a little uncomfortable, but I pushed through this one because... actually, I have no idea why. I was depressed that day and needed some picking up through cheesy predictable anime.

Umm... the art was alright, the music was alright, the story was a little cringy at times, and the characters were pretty flat. They gave too much time explaining how some of these characters were virgins to the point where it just got annoying. Kensho Ono and Hisako Kanemoto were good in this anime (despite playing flat characters), Sakurai plays another insane villain, Yoko Hikasa plays another seductive character, and Mikako Komatsu plays another “male” character. I gave this anime a 5/10. 

Dropped/On-Hold

Aku no Hana

WHERE DO I START WITH THIS ONE?! THIS ANIME WAS SCARY. THERE WERE NO DEMONS, NO SUPERNATURAL, ONLY HUMAN BEINGS. 

Fun fact: I did not read the synopsis before heading in. I saw the poster and thought, “wow cool! let’s try this! middle-schoolers! what’s the worst that can happen?”

Okay, so I had to remind myself every two minutes that these kids are MIDDLE-SCHOOLERS?! Middle-schoolers? Ugh, I don’t know why?! What’s going on here? I know this is supposed to be a psychological anime, and it does its job seriously well. I was scared. I was genuinely scared. Everything in this anime added to the scariness. Read the synopsis, come back, and realize that I’ve made a mistake. I watched 3 episodes. As a person on the asexual spectrum, I don’t know what this anime is trying to get at. The art adds to the psychological effect. The characters are really messed up. The OP and ED add to this insanity. Aku no Hana lives up to the name (Flowers of Evil). I felt so disgusted. This anime showed an ugly part of humanity that made me want to take a shower, and that’s very out of character. 

Just watch a trailer, the OP, and the ED. It gives me the creeps. 

Senjou no Valkyria

I didn’t find this interesting. Maybe I’ll pick it back up. The art seems pale and soulless. The voice acting wasn’t enough to draw me in, and the characters weren’t that great. Honestly, this is probably going to be better than Junketsu no Maria, but timing is important.

Seikai no Monshou

1999 art probably hurts this too, but the same reasoning as above. This anime seems genuinely interesting, but I think I started it at the wrong time. 

Watching

Hanasaku Iroha

Hmm... this anime annoys me, but I really want to finish it!!!

This anime is about a girl who learned that she can rely on no one from a young age. She starts doing household chores and cooking at age 4. At her last year of middle school, her mom runs with her fiance and leaves her behind to go live with her grandma, and her grandma doesn’t like her. Keep in mind, this grandma is her maternal one. That woman who just dropped her daughter to run away... is her daughter. Ms. Grandma believes her daughter is a failure and projects these views on her daughter because “she raised you”. She forces her own granddaughter to work for her inn with no special treatment. At every single turn, you get introduced to characters you’d rather not. Every character is an absolute ass to the main character, and she keeps chasing, but I would rather see her refuse? Characters are straight-up telling her to die, telling her that she’s not doing everything she can, and kidnapping her. Seriously, someone in this series kidnaps her, ties her up, and sexualizes her and her coworkers. How does the grandma react? She says that they must respect the customer’s orders. ARE YOU F-- this anime has a really high review on MAL so I want to believe there’s good coming but it’s really rough so far. 

Darker than Black: Kuro no Keiyakusha

This anime is looking up! It has an interesting concept, and the execution has been mediocre so far! The OST is cool, and the characters have interesting designs and powers. I don’t want to say too much on this because I want to wait till the end!

Boku no Hero Academia 4th Season

No words for this one. I’m just going to wait until the season is over. It’s been slow so far, but I have hope. 

#dino watches anime

[theperksofbeingnoura]

The wrath & the dawn by Renee Ahdieh (Book Review)

Title: The wrath & the dawn #1

Author: Renee Ahdieh

Genre: Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Romance & YA

Publishing date: May 12 2015

Pages: 432

Rating: 4/5

Goodreads link

Synopsis

In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad’s dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph’s reign of terror once and for all.

Night after night, Shahrzad beguiles Khalid, weaving stories that enchant, ensuring her survival, though she knows each dawn could be her last. But something she never expected begins to happen: Khalid is nothing like what she’d imagined him to be. This monster is a boy with a tormented heart. Incredibly, Shahrzad finds herself falling in love. How is this possible? It’s an unforgivable betrayal. Still, Shahrzad has come to understand all is not as it seems in this palace of marble and stone. She resolves to uncover whatever secrets lurk and, despite her love, be ready to take Khalid’s life as retribution for the many lives he’s stolen. Can their love survive this world of stories and secrets?

My Review

I was attracted to this book immediately after finding out it was a retelling of the classical One Thousand and One Nights tale. One thousand and one nights is a collection of middle eastern folk tales, and as an Arab girl it fascinated me to see a retelling of those stories in a YA book.

I felt like the excitement kicked off the moment I opened the book. So many questions were going through my head. Why were these girls killed immediately? Did they have anything in common that could be the reason why they were killed? (other than being his brides) and how could Shahrzad prevent it from happening to her?

I admit half way through the book I was pretty anxious to just get to the end of it all but I never actually felt bored. I actually enjoyed this book a lot more than I thought I would. The story was fresh and different from most YA books. I loved the way the author described the events and settings. She also used many Persian words throughout the book (can be found in the glossary at the end of the book), as well as describing Persian cuisine. I felt like she described the culture beautifully and added a lot of diversity to the books.

I liked most of the characters. Shahrzad was sassy, never afraid to speak her mind, fierce and was quite witty although she did frustrate me sometimes but then again nobody is perfect. Khalid was a lonely soul and I figured there must be some huge plot twist as to why he kills his brides every night (and there was!) as soon as that hole was patched up he climbed up my list of favorite characters. Despina was my favorite from the very beginning. She was a bundle of sass and beauty and helped Shazi in so many ways I truly loved her. Jalal was another character I loved immediately. He was just so nice and i trusted him from the very beginning.

I finished this book during my break between classes and the moment I closed the book I felt like screaming. It ended at such a cliffhanger. I knew there had to be a second book, and my guess was right! I still haven’t picked the second book up yet but I’m definitely planning to soon!

Favorite Quotes

“So you would have me throw Shazi to the wolves?” “Shazi?” Jalal’s grin widened. “Honestly, I pity the wolves.”

“My soul sees its equal in you.”

“She was a dangerous, dangerous girl. A plague. A Mountain of Adamant who tore the iron from ships, sinking them to their watery graves without a second thought. With a mere smile and a wrinkle of her nose.” 

Rating

★★★★☆

My Blog

#books #the wrath and the dawn #the rose and the dagger #comics #reads #reading #review #book review #the wrath and the dawn book review #mine #bookstagram #wordpress #renee ahdieh #book recommendations #booklr #book photography #book photo shoot #bibliophile #bookworm

[thetakenpokemon]

Final Memory of Asmund

This is the final memory, oh reader mine.

With this knowledge, do you feel...enlightened?

What you have learned from these memories, remember them. Make them your own.

This is knowledge you would have never obtained.

That is why it is a gift.

No price... No strings attached...

...For now at least.

My kindness is not without limits, oh reader mine.

Eventually...there will be a price for the information you so desire.

A price...that you may not be able to pay.

[T̨̛͜͞҉H̵̕E̡͟ ̴͟͝͞F̴̧̨́Į̵́҉Ń̵A̧̧L͞҉ ̢̀͘͜͡M̸̨͘͝E͏̧M̸̧͢͜͠Ò̴R̶͝͏̷͠Y̵ ͘H̵̡̧͏A̵͢͠S̸̷͘͜ ̵͢A̶̵̶̛͟R̵̷R̢͠͞͡Í̴̛͜͜V҉̨͡E̢D͘͜ ͠͠F̡̢̀̕͟R͞͝O҉̸̵̡͜M͏҉҉͞ ̡͘͝T̡̧͠H̷́͠͝E̕͢ ͜͜V͘͜E̵͘͜͟͜I̴̢̡͝L]

[Location: Y̴̨̡̧͡o̵̵҉̕u̕͝ ̢͝m̢̛͡a̛͡͏y̸̕ ̴̸̢̡p̸͏̛̛̀o̡͏͞͝s̵̀s̷̶҉̵̢i̷̧̧͟͜b̢͝҉͠l̵͟y̢҉͏̨́ ̸̶̢̧ņ̧̀͝è̷v͟͝e̕͘ŕ̶͞ ҉̕͏͏k̵̸͘͢͡n̶̸̷o̷͞͝͝͞w͘͝,͏̕͟ ̸̸̛͘ò̴̸͜h̸̨̢̨̕ ̡̀b͏̶̢͜é̢͞a͢͝r̷͢͝͞è̡̡̕ŗ̷̢͠͞ ̷̧̀͝m҉̀͢͠į̶̵n̡̕҉͝e] [PoV: Asmund]

The screams...they echo around me.

After I crushed the Gothitelle’s head like a rotten grape, I immediately began to enact my vengeance.

Marie and the Hypno had the misfortune of being next to me, however the damn Delphox instead turned tail to leave her companion to me.

The Hypno’s death was quick, for when you get punched in a head with the force of a train...it causes your neck to snap after your skull gets caved in from the force.

Some Pokemon in the crowd made the decision to run, while others...made the decision to attack.

A Raichu lets loose a discharge of electricity, the bolt of lightning striking me square in the chest. However I stand unmoving as the enchantments activate, the red aura ripples as it causes the energy to harmlessly wash over me.

These enchantments...they were designed specifically for energy-based abilities of Pokemon.

Whether it be fire, lighting, psychic power, raw plasma...they do very little to me. The enchantments creates a barrier of sorts the moment they come in contact with my body, causing it to ‘wash off’ while not even leaving a mark.

Because of this, it grants me what may be considered an immunity to said attacks. However physical strikes and attacks that impede movement...that is a different matter that even these enchantments can’t deflect.

Taking advantage of the Raichu’s confusion I bullcharge him, within seconds I close the distance and strike down with my fist like a hammer. With a loud crunch I easily split the rodent’s head open, killing him instantly.

I feel something strike me on the back of one of my legs, although I didn’t feel any pain from the attack...it hit me with enough force to cause me to stumble slightly.

Without even looking I twist my body and sweep with my cannon, the action caught whatever the Pokemon was and sent them sprawling to the ground. Once I got a good look at it I recognized it to be a female Machoke, now sporting a very nasty wound on the side of her head.

Not paying much heed I simply approach the Pokemon...and walk on her body. All it took was one step from my foot to crush her chest, fating her to an agonizingly slow death of suffocation due to her crushed lungs.

A loud roar catches my attention, but before I could turn to see what the source is I feel something large charge right into me. Much to my surprise the force wis strong enough to completely knock me over on my stomach, causing my body to hit the stone with a loud crash.

The hit definitely left a dent on my back, but due to how...different this body works I simply knew it was there instead of feeling pain. I press my hands into the stone to pick myself back up, but the same Pokemon hits me again with the same amount of force...once again sending me to the ground.

With an annoyed growl I turn my head to see what the hell is strong enough to do this to me, when I did in fact see it...I was unsurprised to see that it’s a male Rhydon.

“I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, HUMAN!” He roars, his eyes burning with rage and hatred.

Heh...

Human...

...

My gaze turns to my cannon, remembering I actually have the thing. From my knowledge of my form, I can command the pistons in the ammo compartment to load a cannonball into it...then launch it at very high velocity.

With only a thought one of said cannonballs loads into the cannon with a loud clacking sound, thus arming the deadly weapon.

“Human?” I repeat slowly, my voice only containing a fraction of the burning furnace within me. “I...am no human anymore, only the one who will deliver the inevitable.”

The Rhydon’s eyes narrow, with another loud roar he charges me again with the intent of smashing into me for a third time.

But I won’t allow it.

I aim my cannon and fire, with a loud hiss the metal projectile launches from the barrel and strikes the Rhydon straight in the chest. The force of the hit immediately sends the Pokemon toppling to the ground, their momentum making them slide a good distance before slowing to a stop.

As I stand, I notice that the Pokemon isn’t dead. Hell...all the hit did was leave a large dent in their tough hide.

Rhydons really are tough Pokemon to kill.

But I don’t intend to leave a job unfinished, so I’m going to end it before he gathers his senses.

With a growl I push myself up back to my feet and proceed to approach the fallen Drill Pokemon. Once I reach them I grab their body and flip them onto their back, exposing their damaged chest.

I raise a fist to deliver a punch...but I stop. I glance at my arm, noticing that it possesses pistons. Upon digging deeper on its inner mechanics...I realize that the purpose of the pistons is to forcefully extend my arm forward with the force of a ‘rocket punch’, essentially allowing it to strike much harder than this body is capable of.

And seeing how a single punch can kill a normal Pokemon instantly, this piston-operated punch would be considered overkill.

But for a Rhydon? It will do...just...nicely.

Aiming the fist at the Pokemon’s chest I activate the pistons, with a loud hiss my fist extends faster than the eye could blink.

BOOM

The Rhydon’s body jerks violently and the ground beneath him to cracks due to the shock of the impact, his mouth opens to let out a loud cry of pain...for I can only imagine how much that hit hurt.

He tries to swat me away, but I use my cannon to pin him to the ground. This is a Rhydon after all, so it will take more...than one hit to kill him.

His fate is to die.

To die under...my...fist.

The pistons pull my extended fist back into its original length, but the second they were primed...I let it loose again.

And again.

And again.

With each hit the Pokemon’s body leaves a deeper imprint in the stone, their own hide cracks further and further with each consecutive strike.

On the fourth hit, I break straight through their chest and crush their rib-cage...along with all of the organs inside.

He lets out a sickly gurgle when blood starts pooling in his mouth, the sign that he’s no longer long with the world.

Retracting my gore-covered fist I stand back up, my gaze turning to my surroundings.

The Pokemon...almost all of them are running now, after witnessing my capabilities...they knew that to fight me would only end one way.

Death.

Except...several seem to not have realized it yet.

I see a group of five Pokemon charging straight at me, either crackling with energy or wielding some sort of natural weapon they possess.

I could meet them head on, to use my superior strength to crush each and every single one of them.

But there is one weapon I haven’t used yet.

The nozzles on my cannon.

At first I didn’t know what they did, but that was before these fuckers fused my soul to to this machine.

Now? I know what they do.

Their purpose is to draw water from the tank on my back and unleash jets of super-heated steam, steam at temperatures so high that it would kill most individuals instantly.

So when these five Pokemon charge me? I simply aim my cannon...and activate the boiler.

With a loud hiss the four nozzles unleash a massive jet of steam, unable to stop their momentum the five Pokemon run straight into the super-heated vapor...

...And scream as their bodies are literally cooked alive.

When the cloud cleared, all I saw were five burned corpses. If I were capable of smelling, I feel that I perhaps would’ve smelled something akin to a well-done steak.

...

...

How many have I killed now...?

...

Nine Pokemon...

...

Nine Pokemon...all by myself.

...

Heh...

And yet I’m not finished.

All of them will die.

All of them.

By my hand.

...

...

No Pokemon were spared, each one I encountered...I showed them the mercy that they showed me.

Which is none.

Their deaths were either crushed by my foot, turned to paste by my piston-propelled fist, cooked alive by my steam, or blown to pieces by my cannon if.

But I used my cannon sparingly, since my ammo was limited to five shots. I shot it three times now, so I intend to keep the other two shots for when I need them.

IF I need them.

With no effort I tear the head off of a Blaziken who tried to fight back, tossing it aside as their body spasms before collapsing.

I take no care to step over the corpse as I walk past, instead I let my heavy foot crush their chest for further measure.

My cold gaze surveys my surroundings, looking for another sheep to slaughter. But the numbers have steadily grown smaller, either by dying to my hand...or running through the path out of the ruins.

I considered chasing after the fleeing Pokemon...but my eyes fall upon a certain Pokemon laying at what I can assume is some ‘medical camp’.

The Pokemon is the Zoroark, Zoey. One of the Pokemon responsible for my torment...

...And the one I’ve nearly beaten to death with my own two fists as a Human.

Feeling a sick glee well inside me I approach her fallen form.

Her head is covered almost completely in bandages, leaving only her nose and mouth exposed so that she could breath.

I remember that the Houndoom was in charge of bringing her here for medical attention, however I ALSO remember that I killed him when he tried running away from me.

He was responsible for me using my second shot of my cannon.

His death...was certainly swift.

The Zoroark is clearly unconscious, even after prodding her a few times she doesn’t stir.

...Disappointing, I was hoping for her to witness the one that will purge her from this world.

...

No matter...

She will die anyways.

My giant hand grabs her fallen frame and lifts her into the air effortlessly, although I considered crushing her like many others...I had a different idea in mind.

A more...satisfying way to kill her.

I angle her downwards, lining my fist with the ground.

I am going to activate my pistons in my arm to slam her straight into the stone. With a force of such magnitude, I wouldn’t be surprised if she exploded.

With a single thought I prepare the pistons to activate...and with them primed I couldn’t help but smile internally.

This is the fate for scum.

To die...brutally...

“STOP!”

...What?

I turn my head to the source of the voice, my angering flaring. Who has the NERVE to tell me to stop? What damn Pokemon thinks that-

My thoughts immediately halt when my eyes fall upon a black and gray Delphox.

No...a black Delphox accompanied by many other Pokemon.

What makes them stand out however is that they’re wearing peculiar clothing, all of them having a color-scheme of colors I’d associate with dusk.

Another thing I notice is that with them are several Pokemon I recognize as part of the Gothitelle’s damn group, except that they’re bound in chains.

“It is over.” The black Delphox says slowly yet calmly, her face holding a calm yet wary expression that’s nearly devoid of emotion.

...Over?

“We have captured the ones who’ve attempted to flee.” She continues, the green flames burning on the tip of her staff casting an eerie yet majestic glow. “They have...told us of what happened.” Although her expression only shows that of wariness, I could see...empathy leak into her eyes. “We know what has happened, the dark fate they have brought to your soul.”

...

So they are not with them...

She gestures with a hand to the rest of the Pokemon garbed in similar attire as her. “We are the Guardians of Twilight, a Guild who’s purpose is to find and bring down monsters and Pokemon of dark intentions.” She warily looks at the Zoroark in my grasp. “So please...release her, they shall all receive judgement for their crimes.”

...

...

No...

“Judgement?!” I shout, the sheer power in my voice causing all of the Pokemon to flinch.

My grip tightens on the Zoroark, I feel liquid start dripping down my fingers as they effortlessly dig into her flesh.

“No...” I growl darkly. “Their judgement is for me to deliver, for THEY are the ones who have committed ATROCITIES against ME!” I shake my head slowly. “No... They have tormented me, starved me of food, and then...MURDERED me.” I shake my head once again, but more frantically. “Andt they didn’t stop there, no...they imprisoned my soul into this body with the intentions of enslaving me.”

I let out a dark laugh. “Their judgement is not for you to decide.”

The Delphox’s eyes widen at this, she immediately opens her mouth to shout for me to stop...

...but the words die as I activate the pistons...and propel the Zoroark straight into the ground with enough force to shatter rock.

Her death...

...was messy.

The sheer amount of shock on the Delphox’s face is more emotion than I’ve ever seen on her, her mouth could only open and close silently...as if unable to form any words.

But slowly...her shock faded...and her eyes narrow with cold determination.

“Now...” I continue, my voice betraying the satisfaction I’m feeling. “I will ask this once, so listen...closely.” I take a step forward, a loud squelching sound is heard as my foot crushes what’s left of the Zoroark’s organs. “You will bring your prisoners to me, for I will deliver the fate that they deserve.” I aim my cannon at the group, causing them all to tense. “Fail to do this...” If I could smile, I would be grinning a sadistically. “...You should have a good idea.”

The Delphox merely shakes her head, with a soft breath through her nose she takes a bold step towards me. “We will do no such thing.” She says firmly, her face unwavering.

"Then...” I hiss, loading a cannonball with a loud clack. “You shall suffer the same fate as the-.....................................................................................

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...

This is as much as I can give you, oh reader mine.

There is a limit to how much can be taken from beyond the veil at a given time.

To have retrieved this much...we are very fortunate.

These memories...they will fade away, never to return.

So I hope you have learned well, oh reader mine.

For this knowledge of Asmund, never would you have learned it in such detail.

Cherish this gift...cherish and learn from it.

...

I know you desire to learn of how it ends...

...But the memories are gone now, never to be seen again.

If you truly wish to learn the rest...

...You will have to find other ways to obtain such knowledge...

...Oh reader mine.

#asmund #??? #plot #act 2