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ask-the-crimson-king · 3 years

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More Stuff from Betrayer

[While on the topic, I want to show the various humans out there a very interesting scene out of Betrayer.

Two, technically, but one that's a bit longer than the other. Image IDs will be provided at the end of the post, cause there's going to be a LOT.

Some interesting insights into how Lorgar views Chaos and a bit about the Emperor as well. I always find this scene to be fascinating, especially since he's borrowed the astropathic choir of the Conquerer to listen to worlds dying across Ultramar while he muses on this.

And then there's when Angron walks up.

Some interesting, albeit a bit morbid, banter between brothers. I do like how Angron even greets Lorgar on the way in, and Lorgar is just standing there stunned. The insights into how Angron views the Devourers is also neat, and it is to be expected at this point. Lorgar trying to argue for them and trying to get Angron to stop ignoring them outright is another neat touch.

The two begin talking of Ultramar, and Lorgar reveals that Nuceria is going to be the capstone for his ritual. Angron asks why, and the following is said:

I like this passage for a few reasons. Firstly, how Angron "dreams" has always been something of interest to me. Because I doubt he ever really gets much rest and respite. Here we get some insight into this, although this also was already expressed a bit earlier. This passage also leads into Angron's recollection of the Night of the Wolf, but I wanted to focus on this.

Lorgar and Angron's "bond" is something that's always intrigued me. It definitely feels more one-sided, with Lorgar seeking for brotherhood that isn't really there, but there are a few moments to make it feel a bit more genuine. However, there is still something missing from these interactions. I can't really describe it other than a barrier between two primarchs who will never see eye-to-eye. Lorgar does, to his credit, try to be understanding and patient throughout, but I can also definitely feel his annoyance coming through at certain places.

In a way, I can almost feel a similar sort of vibe to how Magnus interacts with some of his brothers. Namely with Perturabo in one of the opening chapters of his primarch novel. However, the bond between those two is still very different from the one Angron has with Lorgar; those two actually do have a deep connection, while these two don't. There's a misunderstanding and underestimation coming from both sides in certain aspects; Lorgar in almost sounding condescending to Angron, and Angron still thinking Lorgar a weakling.

TL;DR, Betrayer good.

Image IDs below the cut:

Image ID 1 & 2: A scene from Betrayer where Lorgar is standing and listening to worlds burn. It reads:

Serving as conductor for an astrological orchestra was more taxing than he’d dreamed, though his blunter, more militant brothers would struggle to grasp the finer points of his efforts. Exhaustion left him wondering, even if only briefly, whether absolute peace would create a stellar song as divinely inspired as absolute war. Fate had played its hand and Chaos was destined to swallow all creation whether or not Horus and Lorgar raged against the Imperial war machine, but if what if they’d stayed loyal to the Emperor? What then? Would the Great Crusade have shaped a serene funeral dirge, to play behind the veil as humanity died in a defenceless harrowing?

Therein lay the fatal flaw. The Emperor’s way was compliance, not peace. The two were as repellent to one another as opposing lodestones. It didn’t matter what enlightenment the Imperium stamped out in its conquering crusade when obedience was all its lords desired. It didn’t matter what wars were fought from now into eternity. The Legiones Astartes would always march, for they were born to do so. There would always be war; even if the Great Crusade had been allowed to reach the galaxy’s every edge, there would never be peace. Discontent would seethe. Populations would rebel. Worlds would rise up. Human nature eventually sent men and women questing for the truth, and tyrants always fell to the truth.

No peace. Only war.

Lorgar felt his blood run cold. Only war. Those were words to echo into eternity.

He didn’t trust the Ten Thousand Futures the way Erebus claimed to. Too many possibilities forked from every decision made by every living thing. What use was prophecy when all it offered was what might happen? Lorgar was not so devoid of imagination that he needed the warp’s twisting guesswork to show him that. Anyone with an iota of vision could imagine what might happen. Genius lay in engineering events according to one’s own goals, not in blindly heeding the laughter of mad gods.

More than that, Lorgar sought to keep one thing in mind above all else. The gods were powerful, without doubt, but they were fickle beings. Each worked against its own kin more often than not, spilling conflicting prophecies into their prophets’ minds. Perhaps they weren’t even sentient in the way a mortal mind could encompass. They seemed as much the manifestations of primal emotion as they did individual essences.

But no, there was a wide gulf between hearing them and heeding them. Gods lied, just like men. Gods deceived and clashed and sought to advance their own dominions over their rivals’. Lorgar trusted none of their prophecies.

Image ID 3-5: A series of screenshots from Betrayer. Angron comes into the scene. It reads:

Angron entered the basilica, armoured in his usual stylised bronze and ceramite and with two oversized chainswords strapped to his back. He even wasted time with a greeting, raising his hand in the first time Lorgar could ever remember such a gesture from his broken brother. The Word Bearer tried not to let his amazement show at his brother’s new consideration.

‘Lotara says you stole her astropathic choir.’ Angron’s lipless smile was a ghastly thing indeed. ‘I see that she may have been correct.’

‘Stole is a strong word. “Appropriated” seems much less ignoble.’ Lorgar spared a glance for the skies above the cathedral, as the Lex ripped onwards towards Nuceria.

‘What do you need them for?’ Angron asked. His wounds from being buried alive had already faded to scrunched scar tissue pebbling his flesh, just another host of scarring to overlay the last.

The Devourers lurked behind him, stomping into the cathedral without the primarch sparing them a glance. To be one of Angron’s bodyguards was no honour, despite how fiercely the World Eaters’ champions had fought for it in the first, optimistic years. Angron ignored them no matter where they went, never once fighting alongside them in battle. In their Terminator plate, they’d never managed to keep up with their liege lord, and they were as prone to losing control as any other World Eater, meaning any hope of them fighting as an organised pack was a forlorn one at best.

Lorgar watched the Devourers – those warriors who’d spent a century learning to swallow their pride and pretend they weren’t ignored – speaking amongst themselves at the basilica’s entrance.

‘Hail,’ he greeted them. They seemed uneasy at being addressed, offering hesitant and wordless bows.

Angron snorted at his brother acknowledging them. ‘Bodyguards,’ he said. ‘Even their name annoys me. “Devourers”, as if I’d named them myself – as if they were the Legion’s finest.’

‘Their intentions are pure,’ Lorgar pointed out. ‘They seek to honour you. It’s not their fault you leave them behind in every battle.’

‘They’re not even the Legion’s fiercest fighters, any more. That rogue Delvarus refuses to challenge for a place in their ranks. Khârn laughed when I asked him if he’d ever considered it. And do you know Bloodspitter?’

‘I know Bloodspitter,’ Lorgar replied. Everyone knew Bloodspitter.

‘He beat one of them in the pits, and carved his name into the poor bastard’s armour with a combat knife.’

Lorgar forced a smile. ‘Yes. Delightful.’

Angron’s face wrenched again, at the mercy of misfiring muscles. ‘What primarch ever needed guarding by lesser men?’

‘Ferrus,’ Lorgar said softly. ‘Vulkan.’

Angron laughed, the sound rich and true, yet harsh as a bitter wind. ‘It’s good to hear you joke about those weaklings. I was getting bored of you mourning them.’

It was no joke, but Lorgar had no desire to shatter his brother’s fragile good humour. ‘I only mourn the dead,’ Lorgar conceded. ‘I don’t mourn Vulkan.’

‘He’s as good as dead.’ The World Eater smiled again. ‘I’m sure he wishes he were. Now, what are you doing with Lotara’s choir?’

‘Listening to them sing of other worlds and other wars.’

Angron stared, unimpressed. ‘Specifics,’ he said, ‘while I have the patience to hear such details.’

‘Just listen,’ Lorgar replied.

Angron did as he was bid. After a minute or more had passed, he nodded once. ‘You’re listening to the Five Hundred Worlds burning.’

‘Something like that. These are the voices of the freshly dead, and those soon to join them. The mortis-moments of random souls, elsewhere in Ultramar, as our fleets ravage their worlds.’

‘Morbid, priest. Even for you.’

‘We’re inflicting this destruction on them. We mustn’t consider ourselves distant from it. It may not be our hands holding the bolters and blades, but we are still the architects of this annihilation. It’s our place to listen to it, to remember the martyred dead, and to meditate on all we’ve wrought.’

‘I wish you well with it,’ said Angron. ‘But why steal Lotara’s choir? What happened to yours?’

‘They died.’

It was Angron’s turn to be surprised. ‘How did they die?’

‘Screaming.’ Lorgar showed no emotion at all. ‘What brings you here, brother?’

Image ID 6 & 7: Two screenshots from later in the previous scene, when Angron asks 'Why Nuceria?'. It reads:

‘The metaphysics are complicated,’ said Lorgar.

That had Angron growling. ‘I may not have wasted days in debate with you and Magnus inside our father’s Palace, but the Nails haven’t left me an absolute fool. I asked the question, Lorgar. You answer it. And do so without lying, if you can manage such a feat.’

The Word Bearer met his brother’s eyes, and the rarely-seen palette of emotions within their depths. Pain was there in abundance, but so was the frustration of living with a misfiring mind, and the savagery that transcended anger itself. Angron was a creature that had come to make his hatred a blade to be used in battle. He’d weaponised his own emotions, where most living beings were slaves to theirs. Lorgar couldn’t help but admire the strength in that.

‘We’re going to Nuceria,’ he said, ‘because of you. Because of the Nails.’

Angron stared, and his silence beckoned for his brother to continue.

‘They’re killing you,’ Lorgar admitted. ‘Faster than I thought. Faster than anyone realised. The rate of degeneration has accelerated even in the last few months. Your implants were never designed for a primarch’s brain matter. Your physiology is trying to heal the damage as the Nails bite deeper, but it’s a game of pushing and pulling, with both sides evenly matched.’

Angron took this with an impassive shrug. ‘Guesswork.’

‘I can see souls and hear the music of creation,’ Lorgar smiled. ‘In comparison, this is nothing. The Twelfth Legion’s archives are comprehensive enough, you know. Your behaviour tells the rest of the tale, along with the pain I sense radiating from you each and every time we meet. Your entire brain is remapped and rewired, slaved to the implants’ impulses. Tell me, when was the last time you dreamed?’

‘I don’t dream.’ The answer was immediate, almost fiercely fast. ‘I’ve never dreamed.’

Lorgar’s gentle eyes caught the warp’s kaleidoscopic light as he tilted his head. ‘Now you’re lying, brother.’

‘It’s no lie.’ Angron’s thick fingers twitched and curled, closing around the ghosts of weapons. ‘The Nails scarcely let me sleep. How would I dream?’

Lorgar didn’t miss the rising tension in his brother’s body language – the veins in his temples rising from scarred skin, the feral hunch of the shoulders, no different from a hunting cat drawing into a crouch before it struck.

‘You once told me the Nails stole your slumber,’ Lorgar conceded, ‘but you also said they let you dream.’

Angron took a step closer. He started to say ‘I meant…’ but Lorgar’s earthy glare stopped him cold.

‘They give you a serenity and peace you can find nowhere else. Humans, legionaries, primarchs… everything alive must sleep, must rest, must allow its brain a period of respite. The remapping of your mind denies you this. You don’t dream with your eyes closed. You dream with your eyes open, chasing the rush of whatever peace the Nails can give you.’ Lorgar met Angron’s eyes again. ‘Don’t insult us both by denying it. You slaver and murmur when you kill, mumbling about chasing serenity and how close it feels. I’ve heard you. I’ve looked into your heart and soul when you’re lost to the Nails. Your sons, with their crude copies of your implants, have their minds rewritten to feel joy only in adrenaline’s kiss. Those lesser implants cause pain because they scrape the nerves raw, thus your World Eaters kill because it gladdens their reforged hearts, and ceases the pain knifing into their muscles. Your Butcher’s Nails are a more sinister and predatory design, ruining all cognition, stealing any peace. They are killing you, gladiator. And you ask why I’m taking you back to Nuceria? Is it not obvious?’

End Image ID.]

#warhammer 30k #word bearers #world eaters #lorgar #angron #enjoy some betrayer folks #long post

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wondereads · 3 years

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Personal Recommendation (06/06/21)

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

Why am I recommending this book?

I really loved this book. It was really well-written, the characters were great, and I have an extreme obsession with faeries. I can see why it's so popular, and I finished the entire series in a week.

Want something short and sweet? Check out my tiktok

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

When she was a child, Jude Duarte's parents were killed by her mother's first husband, a vengeful faerie general. The general in question, Madoc, took his own faerie child, Jude's older sister Vivienne, and mortal Jude and her twin sister Taryn to live with him in Elfhame. Although Jude lives under his protection, she is abused by the complicated rules and vicious inhabitants there. Desperate for power, Jude gets involved in a power struggle between the three princes of Elfhame, Dain, Balekin, and her personal tormenter, Cardan.

I love political intrigue books; I also talked about this in my review of The Winter Duke. I find it so much more interesting when the characters decide to use manipulation and politics to their advantage than just going to war. Also, despite most of the faeries being irredeemable assholes, Jude's motivation to protect Elfhame and continue to live there was believable. Also, the missions she went on were always full of suspense, and I don't think I was ever bored while reading this book. Normally, romantic relationships in the midst of much bigger problems tend to irk me, but Jude and Locke's relationship was incredibly riveting. Rather than just being a distraction from the main plot like in some other books, I think that whole interaction only fueled Jude's decisions later, especially in terms of her recklessness. Also, all of the scenes where Jude develops other relationships, such as with Taryn, Cardan, Dain, and the Court of Shadows, contributed either to Jude's character development or directly to the plot. Finally, there are many twists and turns throughout the book. The reader knows there's something up, but I could never quite figure it out in time. For example, it's not hard to see that something's up with Locke. However, I had no idea what it actually was until the reveal took place. I was always on the edge of my seat.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

It is so hard to write from the perspective of only one character and then make them likable. Despite the entire book being from Jude's perspective, she was my favorite character. She's tough, she's unrelenting, and she's willing to make sacrifices. On the other hand, she's ruthless, reckless, and not exactly what I would call a 'hero'. It is so satisfying to have a main character that understands that sometimes bloodshed is necessary and does not shy away from making hard decisions. Jude, of course, initially has reservations against killing, but I think the way she overcomes that was perfect.

Cardan, of course, is a crazy complicated character. Especially since it's all from Jude's perspective, we never know exactly what he's thinking. Either way, you'll probably end up hating him before you're a few chapters in. Despite that, the paper and the Court of Shadows scene are rattling. I won't go into further detail to avoid spoilers, but I have to mention that I loved where Cardan and Jude's relationship left off in the first book. It's made abundantly clear that they do not love each other, probably don't even like each other. What they have is a mutual obsession, and they definitely have a long way to go for any semblance of a healthy relationship.

As for the other characters, I would willingly kill Taryn and Locke, no I will not elaborate. Madoc is more trouble than he's worth, and I will forever be shaken over the fact that he is apparently green. I'm kind of on the fence with Nicasia because she's had to deal with just as much manipulation from faeries as Jude, but she also, you know, as humiliated Jude and tried to kill her multiple times, so... Valerian can choke. I actually quite like Oriana and Oak, and I think Oriana would be fine if she wasn't so paranoid about Jude and her sisters. Finally, I could never get a good read on Dain, but I think that fits well. It makes sense that he never shows his hand, and I did at least like him, even if I didn't trust him.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Holly Black's pacing is impeccable. I was never bored while reading this book, and I felt like I had to keep going. Many fantasy books are tricky in the first quarter or so because of all the worldbuilding that has to be established, but I think she worked it into the actual plot very well. There's also the issue that writing about faeries is tough. They're always giving out riddle and all their words have double meanings, so the author has to account for that, which I think Black did wonderfully. Once again, it's amazing that I like Jude so much when the entire book is just undiluted her all the time. I'm so impressed that I never once disliked her while reading. Also, there were certain scenes that absolutely took my breath away. As in, I had to stop and breathe for a moment after I finished them. Finally, I loved that Holly Black included allusions to the other faerie books she's written, such as Severin from The Darkest Part of the Forest and Roiben and Kaye from Tithe.

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I love it. The plot was very well planned out, the characters were well-developed and had believable motivations, and the pacing was so good. I can see why people go crazy for Jude and Cardan because they're both compelling characters with a relationship that can't go five minutes without creating some new drama. There's also the fact that I love anything to do with the darker side of faerie lore. I would recommend this book for people who like faeries, enemies to lovers, and complicated family relations.

The Author

Holly Black: American, 49, also wrote The Spiderwick Chronicles, Modern Faerie Tales, and The Iron Trial

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

#books #recommendations #reviews #the cruel prince #holly black #folk of the air #fantasy #ya

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aellynera · 4 years

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Mors Non Est (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

MORS NON EST (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

(so. um. this was inspired by a dream i had? because my brain does weird things at night and then sometimes i write them.)

Word Count: almost 4k oops

Summary: “Of course, you don’t die. Nobody dies. Death doesn’t exist. You only reach a new level of vision, a new realm of consciousness, a new unknown world.” — Henry Miller, author

Or, what my brain offers as alternate theory on why Nathan made AIs.

Warnings: Leaving this mortal coil (sort of), angsty musings, maybe a swear or two. Okay there’s definitely a swear or...several. (also a disclaimer that I finished this at like 3am and there was a bunch of stuff out of order but I think I got it all worked out now and proofread and all that, but apologies if anything is still wonky)

The rain fell steadily against the wall of glass that faced towards the forest. Sometimes it was soft, like the tickle of a feather, the softest caress of a kiss on your hair, the skim of fingertips against the velvet red petals of a flower. Other times it was harsh, a violently crashing wave on the rocky shore, electricity ripping the sky asunder, an unbridled fierceness like a wild animal frightened and possessed.

It changed without warning.

Soft, hard. Quiet, loud. Calm, violent. Back and forth and back again.

How long had it been raining?

He turned as he heard your footsteps fall on the wooden patio planks behind him. You watched in slight fascination as he unwrapped his hands, used the cloth to dry them, and stuck a hand out to you, your attention half on him and half on the pure beauty of the surrounding scenery.

“You must be the new assistant,” he said, sounding friendly enough although his smile stayed a bit reserved.

He wasn’t expecting you to just show up on his deck. Yes, he was expecting you to be dropped off by the helicopter, that had all been arranged, but for some reason he had...he realized he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting. But you had clearly followed the pilot’s (and soon after, the house’s - that the house told you what to do amused him in the strangest way) instructions and here you were.

He knew his new assistant was more than capable (he had seen your resume, reviewed your coding and debugging history, had meticulously poured over every single little detail of work you had done for his company for the past three years not that he was obsessive about it or anything) but he wasn’t prepared for the person that now stood before him, an intriguing combination of impressed, unsure, interested, and underwhelmed.

You were fucking beautiful.

You nodded. “That’s what they tell me,” you replied, shaking his hand and supplying your name, even though you knew he already knew it. You knew enough about Nathan Bateman to know he knew everything about you before you even heard the head of HR back in the corporate office announce that you got the job.

You later admitted you didn’t know what to think about him either, and you hadn’t really expected anything, since you didn’t know much about him. He was a genius, everyone knew that, and he lived all the way out here by himself. And...that was about it. That’s what you knew.

And you thought he was...kinda hot.

And also an asshole, you liked to point out as the days went on. Nathan didn’t really mind.

It was an odd feeling, this feeling of dissonance and uncertainty.

There was so much that needed to be done. There was so much that he didn’t feel like doing.

He came to the door and paused. He spent most of his waking hours in this room - and to be honest, most of his hours were waking at this point, he rarely slept anyway and for as long as he could remember now he had barely slept, except when all that whiskey and vodka kicked in - and yet there was always a moment, the briefest flash of time, where forward momentum paused and he wondered if non-linear time was reality and he would find something different when he opened the door.

It wasn’t, and he never did.

He wandered into the lab and over to the table at the farthest end. Components were spread out before him and he idly reached over to the single chip laying in the center of the mess. It was the last piece of this particular puzzle, the last bit that had to be installed and configured and then…

Then suddenly it became too quiet and too loud all at once. Thoughts were screaming through his brain and he just wanted it to be quiet for a moment.

Quiet so he could go over his calculations in his head. Quiet so he could double check his math. Quiet so he could concentrate on his theories and his expected outcomes. Quiet so he could revel, just for a moment, in his monumental achievement.

There was a sweater hanging on the back of the door. He’d forgotten it was there, even though he had just seen it mere hours before. No, not forgotten, he realized. Blocked. He didn’t forget, he just purposely didn’t remember.

The silent noise became a full-blown cacophony.

Was it still raining?

“So how exactly are you going to solve it?” you asked one afternoon, idly twirling your pen in your hand.

“How would you do it?” he bounced back.

You sighed. His behavior was so typical. The man was a certifiable genius but that was usually the problem and not the solution. It was never straightforward. “The AI. How are you going to solve the issue of making it able to have an actual conversation with you?”

“How would you do it?” he asked again.

Shrugging your shoulders, you kept twirling the pen. “I dunno. I guess you’d have to have some way to...maybe cross-reference a database of expressions and emotions and an actual dictionary.”

Nathan paused and considered you, deep in his own forest of thought. He wheeled his chair over to his computer desk and started rapidly tapping keys. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “Like...like some kind of mass well of every available, possible interaction. Honestly I would try to figure out the mechanics of everything else first, like motion and movement, You know, walking and running and sitting and standing.”

“Hmmm.”

“But since there are literally infinite combinations, I don’t even know how you would go about even attempting that kind of data pool.”

“I did actually have an idea about that,” he muttered. Nathan didn’t even turn from his multiple computer monitors and his fingers never stopped clacking away at his keyboard. “But you’re not going to like it.”

This time you groaned instead of sighing. He knew you could feel it coming before he asked - he always told you that you weren’t going to like it before he asked you to do something incredibly stupid that in any other circumstance would get you arrested and you’d never see daylight again.

But this was Nathan Bateman, and of course he was going to ask anyway. And of course you would say yes. You always said yes, it was one of the things he enjoyed most about your company, and even when you did say no, it gave way to a lively debate and a genuine argument over facts and merits, downsides and advantages, and it was fucking amazing.

It had been that way from the start, grown steadily over the weeks and months, and neither of you could really complain. Nathan quickly found that you could keep up with his train of thought even when the track switched abruptly and it was so engaging. Captivating. Enticing.

But this man. This amazingly intelligent (if almost insufferably arrogant) man was going to be the death of you. You told him that at least once a day. He took it as a personal challenge to give you a reason to keep living.

“What did you have in mind?” You doubted you wanted to know.

“What if…” he replied, clicking away, not looking up from the screen as he spoke, “we used the video and audio coding in Bluebook, and patched it through all the cell phone carriers, and rerouted all the satellite signals back here into the lab.”

Before you knew what was happening, your pen flew across the room and connected with his shoulder with a small *thwap*.

“What?” he finally looked up, mock annoyance in his voice.

“Are you absolutely fucking insane, or is this just an extra special occasion?”

He left the lab with no real idea of where he was going.

Okay, that was a lie. It was his house. He knew his way around and he knew where he needed to be next. There was an actual agenda but his focus was off.

He walked past the living room and noticed the chess set was still set out on the coffee table. The pieces were still fairly evenly matched, his green dragons maybe just slightly at a disadvantage to your purple ones (because, as you had mentioned at one point, why have a standard chess set when you could have a fun one? And Nathan knew you were anything but standard.)

He knew it was his turn and contemplated the board for a few minutes. No matter how he strategized it, how he worked it out, how he tried to plan it, you had forced him into a checkmate. Again. For at least the sixth time in a row, and probably at least the eight-seventh time out of the last hundredth you had played. He chuckled, softly, briefly. He could do anything with technology and science, but he rarely could beat you at a centuries-old board game.

He made his final move for this round, sacrificing his king to your queen.

He grabbed the notepad setting next to the chess board, and your pen that lay nearby on the table. He scrawled a quick note to you - checkmate - and placed it on your side of the board, next to your fairly gained draconian horde, even though he was certain you were never going to read it.

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

He stared out the window wall, out past the deck, to the running river and the dense groves of trees, off into the distance towards the waterfall.

He should be heading to the room. He should be taking care of the final chip install and making sure everything was online. Instead he simply stood in the kitchen and stared out into the rain.

It occurred to him that the agenda was more of a guideline and his knowledge of his surroundings was merely functional.

Nathan briefly considered that standing at the doorway to your bedroom was the last place he should be, but then decided he didn’t care. But that wasn’t true either.

He could just walk in, it wouldn’t be the first time - once you had been wearing only a towel, having just gotten out of the shower and that hadn’t been awkward at all - but that small bit of his conscience that he usually tried to ignore, told him to be polite.

He knocked.

“What do you want, Nathan?” You sounded muffled, like you had your face partly covered by a pillow. You were probably in bed. He shouldn’t be bothering you.

He had to bother you, just this once. “Can I come in?”

He could picture your face on the other side, eyes rolling and the sigh as it left your lips, and even though he heard the door hiss quietly as the latch released, his feet suddenly stuck to floor outside your door and his body made no further move.

“I did open the door, so if you’re going to, do it before I change my mind,” you called after a few minutes.

Nathan got his feet to cooperate and entered your room. You were in bed, face half-behind a pillow, your visible eye glaring at him. He stopped at the edge of your bed. His brain started calculating risk factors for the current situation, gains, deficits, advantages - anything it could think of, there were always factors involved, no matter what the situation was, it was just that some factors were more complicated than others. Some required more delicate, cautious manipulation to solve the equation and…

“Are you just going to stand there all night and look at me? Because I swear I really will kick you out, and then change all your passcodes.”

Of course, you teased him later about how much fun it would have been to watch him try to get back in. You swore you were going to do it one day, just for the hell of it. He didn’t mind.

“Do you regret what happened after dinner?” he finally asked.

Your glare softened and you moved the pillow away from your face. Dinner was fine. The company was pleasant as usual, the wine was frequent and flowing. The two of you had started a very animated debate about gender and sexuality as it pertained to artificial intelligence and if any of it were a necessary component or if it was just something you would prefer (he would later tell you how wonderful the expression on your face was when he told you he would be ready to start building a prototype in the next few weeks) and then.

“I don’t regret it at all. Do you?” you arched an eyebrow at him.

Nathan blew a long breath out from his nose. Did he regret kissing you? Nope. Not in the slightest. Did he regret that you might regret it (he was slightly relieved that you said you didn’t) and that nothing would come of it? Yes. And he couldn’t calculate the actual result, just potential outcomes with no concrete denouement, and that made him extremely uncomfortable. He didn’t want this to be an experiment. He wanted an absolute, not a thicket of random. Not in this case.

“No.” He still didn’t move.

“Frankly we should have done it months ago.”

He shook his head and turned just the slightest bit before your reply registered and he processed it. “Wait. You...what?”

You exhaled and sighed as you rolled over, facing away from him and trying to get comfortable in the bed again. “You know, Nathan Bateman, for being the smartest man in the universe, sometimes you are a complete idiot.”

“I’m not going to argue that. This time, anyway.”

“Thank you, because it’s nearly three in morning,” you replied. He could hear the smile in your voice. “Can we talk about this in the morning? Like, later in the morning. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

He nodded and really did turn to leave this time. He was still trying to process. “Okay. Yeah, sure. I, uh...I’ll see you then.”

“Good night, Nathan.”

The rain had finally stopped.

He looked out over the landscape, now reflecting and refracting tiny bursts of sunlight in the lingering blanket of droplets.

Trees crowded both sides of the rushing river, leading towards the top of the waterfall. There was a small clearing there, one that almost wouldn’t be found if someone wasn’t looking for it. It was one of your favorite spots.

Nathan found you there fairly often, after he had shown you where it was. If the weather was cooperating, and you weren’t in the house, then nine times out of ten, that’s where Nathan would find you. Sometimes you were reading a book, sometimes you were just stretched out in the grass, looking up at the tips of the timbers as they reached to the sky.

Sometimes he would join you. Those were times that deep conversations would happen, about the projects back at the house and technology and your odd fascination with disco music, which Nathan truly did not understand but tried to humor.

Sometimes he would just smile and let you have your peace. Those were times he would go back to the house and quietly await your return.

He knew that’s where he would find you now.

“I’m back from Anchorage,” you called as you came in the front door.

Nathan was in the kitchen and poked his head around the doorway. “Hey. Perfect timing,” he said, brushing his hands off on his pants and flipping a dish towel over his shoulder. “Dinner is almost ready.”

A tired sign escaped your lips as you flopped down on the couch, taking one of the throw pillows and covering your chest and half your face with it. “Thanks. Not hungry.”

“How was the trip?”

You snorted softly. “Wet. Raining. Absolutely miserable.”

It wasn’t what you said that made Nathan stop. It was the way you said it. Your voice sounded so tired, so empty. It didn’t really sound like you, not the voice he’d come to expect to hear every day. It was not the voice that engaged him in conversation, that drew him into theories and concepts and philosophies. It was not the voice that argued about codes and programs and why that would not work no matter how much he insisted it would (to be fair, you were usually right, but he wasn’t going down without a good fight, and neither of you would have it any other way.) The voice that was leaving your body through your mouth wasn’t you.

It sounded hollow.

He leaned against the doorway. The air in the room suddenly felt heavier and he couldn’t quite get his feet to move forward to the couch where you sat. “What did they say?”

Nathan noted that you didn’t look at him. You looked everywhere but him. Like you were trying to keep everything from falling to pieces, maybe? You were definitely not acting yourself either. Suddenly he wanted to take himself outside and kick his own ass. He should have gone with you. You’d been talking about it, for weeks now, he realized.

How tired you were. How you were never really hungry. How things felt like they were getting harder when they shouldn’t have been. How you couldn’t go quite as far on the hikes you loved taking so much, together.

He should have gone with you.

Your face did not move from its half-protected shield behind that tasteful throw pillow.

He doesn’t register most of what you said. He remembers the words “bad” and “already done everything” and “months, maybe”. Maybe. No definite conclusion.

He finally managed to take a few steps towards you.

His brain was kicking into overdrive but not a single one of that rush of thoughts would make an appearance on his tongue. There had to be another answer. Another answer that wasn’t the one he could already see in your eyes.

Your eyes. His favorite feature (at least from the neck up), the ones that showed how much life you had, your spark, your fire.

And he realized the hollowness of your voice had traveled up into those beautiful eyes.

Words stopped making sense in an instant. Everything around him got fuzzy, jagged at the edges, but also intensely focused at the same time.

He finally crossed the room and sat down carefully, warily, on the couch.

Neither of you said another word. His arms slipped around you and you curled into his chest, pulling your knees up to your own. No tears from either of you. No sounds. No words.

He didn’t know how long you stayed on that couch.

The next thing you knew you were in bed, Nathan’s arms still wrapped around you. He must have carried you to the bedroom at some point. You felt the coolness of the sheets contrast with the warmth of his body; you mustn’t have been out for long. You were about to drift off again when Nathan finally broke the silence.

“We’ll figure out a way.”

A sigh escaped your lips, half drenched in sleep.

It was the last place he wanted to be. It was the only place he wanted to go.

He slipped into a hoodie and pulled on a pair of shoes and stepped out onto the deck. The air was still somewhat saturated, humid, but the rain was holding off for now. It was warm but he wasn’t, so the hoodie stayed on.

His feet took him down the deck stairs and onto the path paralleling the river. He followed it slowly, breathing in the summer air but not really seeing his surroundings. Like in his house, he knew where he was heading, and this was just the agenda.

At some point (minutes, hours, he really didn’t know how much time had passed) he came to that small clearing of trees.

And there you were.

Nathan took a jagged breath and sat down next to you. His pants were soaked in an instant, but he didn’t care. He was more annoyed that you were cold and wet (he briefly considered how funny you would find the double entendre, and probably tell him that you were definitely wet but he never made you feel cold) and chuckled again when he could hear your scoffing insistence that you were fine here in your special spot.

You weren’t fine. He knew this and wished desperately that you could tell him, tell him anything, say something.

He wasn’t fine. And he definitely did mind.

Nathan didn’t know what else to do, so he just started talking.

“So, uh...I know it’s been a while. I’ve just been really busy, trying to get the AI just right, and...I’m sorry I’ve been away. That’s not what I meant to happen. I’ve been working pretty much non-stop, I know you would be nagging me to get some sleep and eat better and all that shit. And...I wish you would. I would listen to you, for once.”

Silence and the far-off chirp of a bird were his only reply, so he continued.

“I know I shouldn’t be working so much, but I kinda have to. It’s the only way I feel close enough to…”

His throat was acutely, suddenly dry. He did his best to clear it. He was only marginally successful.

“So anyway, that idea I told you about, with all the cell phone data rerouting it here? It worked. Please don’t be mad at me, I know it wasn’t your favorite idea, but I’m pretty sure that’s what finally broke this open. Well, that and all the ideas we worked out together. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me, and I know I never really did, and I probably never will…”

He had remembered to grab one thing before he left the house, stashing it in the pocket of the hoodie. He pulled it out now, a single red rose. Cliche, maybe, but they were your favorite flower.

Nathan placed it gently against the stone on the edge of the clearing. The stone with your name. It only had your first name, no dates. He could never bear to put any indicator of time on it; it was too final. Conclusive. Terminal.

He stood and started walking back. He never could stay here very long. It was absolutely ridiculous, but he usually had the feeling you would pop out from behind a tree and tease him about how impressive your joke was and he would never top it.

It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t funny, and he wished he could prove you wrong.

But there was still something he might be able to prove. To make a few things right.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing.

“I have someone else coming to the house this week. He works for the company, he’s a coder...he looks like a good kid. I’m gonna use him to test this model. This really could be the breakthrough we’ve...I’ve...been looking for.”

Nathan turned his head back briefly, to say one last thing before he headed back to the house, before he had to get back to his work.

“I promise I’ll come back soon and tell you all about it.”

The rain started softly coming down again.

~end~

tag list: @anetteaneta @darksideofclarke @girlwiththemostcake @rosemarysbaby13 @spider-starry @writefightandflightclub (tags are always open if you want in just give me a holler and say so)

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac character #nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #ex machina fic #ex machina #angst train #thanks subconscious #writing

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incorrectshantaequotes · 3 years

Text

Shantae Headcanons - Main Four

So, with the response to my question being entirely positive, I am in fact going to be writing down some headcanons. I have a LOT, mind you, so I’m going to spread this out over time. Headcanons will be tagged as such (as well as the usual “not a quote” tag) for organization, and also in the event you’re only interested in the quotes.

For this batch of headcanons, I’ll be covering Shantae, Sky, Bolo, and Rottytops! And I’m putting this under a read more because it is LONG.

Shantae:

The fact that Shantae lives in a lighthouse isn’t just to give her a lookout as the protector of Scuttle Town. It does actually function as a lighthouse, albeit a magical one - it gains an orb of light at night on the tip of its roof to guide passing ships. Shantae’s the one who added that functionality, and she’s the one who works and maintains the light when she’s not protecting Scuttle Town!

Scuttlebutt actually pays her more for that then he does for her job as a protector, which irks Shantae to no end, but since she is getting paid at the end of the day she doesn’t complain.

When Shantae can’t fall asleep for whatever reason, her usual way of trying to deal with it is to do some maintenance on the lighthouse, whether it be the structure or the light atop. She can be up doing this for hours if no one stops her. Thankfully, Sky’s trained Wrench to occasionally check in on Shantae during the night so he can alert her if she’s doing this, allowing Sky to step in and drag Shantae back to bed before she overextends herself...even if Sky ends up falling asleep on Shantae’s floor a minute later.

Has quite a bit of mechanical knowledge learned from Uncle Mimic, she just rarely gets to put it to use.

Shantae’s a big fan of seafood...which makes turning into her aquatic forms (and the entirety of Seven Sirens) a bit. Awkward. To say the least. She tries not to think about it.

Sky:

Sky’s named every single bird in her care, and is able to tell them apart at a glance even if they’re near identical. No one’s quite sure how she’s able to do this.

The reason why Sky is so peeved at Rottytops during Seven Sirens, even though their shared experience in Friends to the End should’ve improved their relationship? Well, it’s actually because of their improved relationship that Sky was more snippy with Rottytops there - when Shantae couldn’t find Rottytops, the only logical conclusion Sky could find is that she skipped out on them, which...really hurt, especially since it was just after they’d just started to know each other better, and she did genuinely want to spend time with the zombie. That hurt, combined with the existing stress of the situation, made Sky fall back on old habits, with Rottytops returning the favor.

Thankfully, the misunderstanding is cleared up by Shantae on the way back to Scuttle Town when Sky vents her frustrations to her, leading to a profuse apology on Sky’s part when they touch down on solid ground. Rottytops is surprised, but happily accepts.

While Sky’s passion is raising birds, she’s not a big fan of the fact that she has to raise them solely for combat. She’s tried promoting more domestic uses of her birds, but hasn’t found anything that sticks. Shantae and Bolo have both helped with her endeavors on this front at separate times; their ideas haven’t worked either. Rottytops hasn’t been made aware of this because of Sky’s initial testy relationship with her, but with their interactions being a bit more friendly nowadays, Sky’s considering talking to her about it because she’s running out of ideas.

Bolo:

Bolo does have a close family member he lives with, like Rottytops with her brothers or Sky with her parents (though the latter is debatable). Who is it? His mom, the Squidsmith, otherwise known as Forge when she’s off the clock. Shantae doesn’t know about this - not because Bolo’s trying to hide his relationship with her or something like that, but moreso because he rarely brings up his family in conversations in the first place. He’d be completely fine telling Shantae if she asked. Shantae does know he lives with a single mom and that she works in a forge, but hasn’t quite connected the dots yet.

Bolo’s actually quite skilled with metalworking thanks to some lessons with his mom, having made all his gear himself - in fact, his craftsmanship was what got Techno Baron to hire him in Pirate’s Curse! There is one problem though...he’s terrible with fine details, which is why he screwed up the doorknob and the targeting mechanism for Ammo Baron’s cannon so badly. When he decided to make the Spring Claw, he had Mimic help with the construction so it wouldn’t be subjected to the same fate.

Bolo does do quite a bit of hero work for Scuttle Town - usually when Shantae is out of town chasing down Risky Boots - but is nowhere near as recognized as Shantae is, no matter how hard he tries. It really stings, especially since he’s not even asking for payment like he could (and probably should) be doing, and fuels his insecurities.

Rottytops:

As I’ve mentioned before, Rottytops’ name while she was living was Rachael.

In life, the Cadavers were a mysterious and closed-off lot, deeply intertwined with the supernatural and the darker side of the mystic arts. Unfortunately, this relationship with dark magical forces is ultimately what lead to their demise - but it did bring them back as zombies later on, and the residual knowledge from their mortal lives is why the Cadavers are so skilled with dark magic, even for creatures who can naturally wield it (don’t worry, headcanons involving magic and magical species in the Shantaeverse will have its own post).

What residual knowledge Rottytops does and doesn’t have from her past life can wildly vary. For example, Rachael was a bit of a nerd when it came to the supernatural, which can sometimes translate to Rottytops having random knowledge of an artifact she’s never seen before in her life. On the other hand, she might not remember things like what a vulture is, and those bits of lost knowledge almost inevitably lead to shenanigans abound.

The person Rottytops is closest to besides Shantae is Bolo - she can actually relate to his insecurity quite well, and they’ve had several conversations in private about it. It helps that Bolo has no qualms about zombies.

#shantae #sky #bolo #rottytops #not a quote #headcanons

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fragmentedink-archived · 3 years

Text

Hell to Pay: Part Fifty

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for child death, mentions of stillborn children, child illness, abusive parents, appearance of Az’ril

Amara shuffled in front of the doors of Biela’s palace. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. But it was a conversation that needed to be had. Not that she really had a choice either way.

With a small breath to steady herself, Amara slipped inside. There were no guards in sight, but there weren’t supposed to be, anyway. In sight, at least. That didn’t mean Amara wasn’t aware she was being watched every step of the way up to Biela’s office.

Halfway there, a familiar face poked out of a nearby room. “Caius,” Amara said in greeting, relaxing some. He looked the image of his sister, Biela. Black hair, blue eyes, and bronze skin. Other than the fact that he was an alpha, and, well, a man, was that he was at least six foot, and Amara didn’t think she’d ever seen Biela smile so openly.

Today his smile was a bit more strained as he said, “If it isn’t the reason my sister’s more prickly than usual.”

Amara grimaced at that. “I know I joke about wanting your sister to step on me, but- not really digging it at the moment.”

“Probably wise, considering she’s dealing with this personally,” Caius said, before adding, “I can’t imagine your cousin’s first interaction with her was all that pleasant.”

That deserved the wince it got. “Probably not,” Amara agreed. “I haven’t been to see him yet. He’s wanted... space.” She swallowed, tried for a smile. “At least he’s not the type to hit on her like Nik? He probably shit himself when he saw her.”

“Oh he’d definitely be dead then,” Caius said.

“Good thing for us all that he’s an anxious gay mess then,” she said.

“Not for you.”

She winced.

“Do you realize the position your actions put us all in?” he said. “My sister went herself to deal with this. There is a reason that I am usually the one to go in her stead, and a good deal of that reason is because I am far more likeable and far more merciful. You made a mistake, Amara.”

“I know,” Amara said softly. “I fucked up.”

“You can’t unring this bell with an apology.”

“I can’t unring it period. Even if Lev dies, and I’ll be the first to admit he’s not out of the woods yet, it’s not going- it’s not going to undo what I made Cyrus do.”

“We’ll see if the witch survives this too,” Caius said, nodding up the hall to Biela’s study. “She’s waiting for you.”

Lovely. She just nodded and eased inside the office.

The office was bright, full of far more color than Amara would have expected if she hadn’t been there before. It was warm and open, but not even that could ease the trepidation in Amara’s chest as she crossed the room to Biela’s desk.

“Sit down,” Biela said, not even looking up from her paperwork.

Amara sat.

The silence stretched long enough Amara shifted uncomfortably in the soft chair. She’d not been stupid enough to bring weapons with her, and the lack of anything to fidget with didn’t help with how antsy she felt.

Eventually Biela looked up, leaning back in her chair. “Well thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

It took Amara a few seconds to pick out her response. “I should have come sooner,” she finally said.

Biela lifted a brow. “Before or after you poisoned my lands?”

“Before,” Amara said quietly.

“Yes.”

As Amara struggled to figure out what to say, Biela started sliding photos across the desk. A cold, sick feeling curdled Amara’s breakfast in her stomach. Those were sick children. Infants. Stillborns. Mortality was high in angels and demons both, but Amara’s magic was screaming that something was wrong with these children beyond the usual difficulties both immortal races had with pregnancy and childbirth, even if she couldn’t see anything beyond the sickly, unnatural thinness. When Amara looked up at Biela, who hadn’t stopped sliding more and more across the desk, there was no forgiveness in her icy stare.

I didn’t know. She choked the words off before they could even rise in her throat, stuffing it back down deep. Biela was a telepath. Likely she’d seen it, but Amara shoved it deeper anyway, and looked back down at the growing pile.

“How many?” She finally croaked.

“How many what?” she asked, venomously. “How many were born dead? How many died shortly after birth or how many are untouched by what you have done?”

“How many dead?” She asked, hating herself more with every word. “How many sick because of what I did?”

“The numbers are still coming in, but they’re in the thousands.”

Amara folded her arms over her stomach to keep from reaching for one of the photos. She had done this. Caius had warned her an apology wouldn’t fix this, but she hadn’t even imagined-

She couldn’t even look Biela in the eye anymore.

“Nothing to say?” Biela asked in a steely tone.

“I could spend the rest of my life trying to atone and nothing would-” Amara thought she might be sick. “I had no idea- but that is no excuse.” Gods, those were children. Infants.

Biela stood, leaning across the desk enough that Amara finally looked up out of sheer instinct. “I have half a mind to whip you and your cousin bloody.”

Amara would have taken it, and gladly, but that could kill Lev, on a good day. Lev was far enough from a good day to send a chill down her spine. Still, she knew better than to say anything at all, and just pressed her lips into a shaky line.

“Why should your pathetic cousin live, and thousands of children die?” Biela demanded. “He’s had a hundred and thirty seven years to do something with his life, and he’s done nothing but cower.”

The worst part was Amara had no answer for her.

“What, nothing to say to that either?”

“I don’t,” Amara admitted in a small voice. “I don’t have any answers.” She was in so far over her head.

“Well that is indeed a first.” Biela stared her down unflinchingly. “Maybe this time you’ll keep your arrogance in check. Instead of executing you, I’m letting you live with this.”

Amara almost would have preferred an execution. And maybe that was exactly why Biela wasn’t going to give it to her.

“I’m sorry doesn’t begin to cover it,” Amara finally whispered. “But I am. I am so, so sorry.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that along to the thousands of families that are grieving,” Biela said, before giving a final, dismissive, “Get out.”

Amara all but bolted. The guilt chased her down the hall, and would for a good few decades yet.

---

Nik had to admit he was less than pleased with the anxiety curling in his stomach as he waited outside of Cameron’s office door. He had probably been standing outside for a solid five minutes, trying to form exactly what he was going to say to make sure Cameron didn’t hate him, when Cameron’s voice yanked him out of his head.

“Get in here.”

Right.

Nik went inside, not surprised to find the window was already open for Nik’s benefit when Cameron motioned to shut the door. Of course Cameron was working on something; there wasn’t a single minute of the day that wasn’t allotted for something. He did find it interesting, however, to find bedding folded neatly on the couch by the wall.

Nik didn’t comment on it.

He plopped down in the chair across from him, feeling like he somehow got yanked into the principal's office for getting caught smoking in the boy’s room in high school. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the chair, not really sure what else to do.

Cameron finished reading the paper he was on before removing his reading glasses and peered up at Nik. “Nothing has stopped you from speaking before,” Cameron said. “Don’t let it stop you now.”

Nik grimaced at the slight irritability in Cameron’s tone. “Why didn’t you say anything.”

Cameron scratched his face. “Not my place to say anything,” he said, after a moment of thought. “Your body, your choice. Tell me, don’t tell me. I didn’t and don’t care. As long as you were taken care of, I didn’t see why I should have commented on anything.”

“Maybe because you’re my alpha?” Nik retorted, annoyed.

“Again, not my place.” Cameron eyed him carefully. “Have you decided on what you’re going to do with the fetus?”

An excellent wordsmith, Cameron was. It irked him. “I don’t- I don’t know,” Nik said. “Why do you care when it’s clearly not yours.”

Cameron didn’t bother blinking, and just kept watching him. “Is that right?”

It’s your brother’s. “You know it is.”

“As far as I am concerned, it is mine.”

“I-”

“Yes,” Cameron said, leaning forward. “Unless you want to suggest otherwise, or do plan on aborting, I do not care. It is mine, it would have the same protections Eden has because that little cretin is mine as well.”

Nik’s face prickled and he curled back in the chair uncomfortably. “But- why?”

Cameron looked at him as if he were obtuse. “Because I care about you, idiot. If I did not, I would have gone ahead and let you be ripped to shreds when you decided to waltz your way into my house to spy on my family. If I did not, you would not be in my bed. You would not be in my house, and Lev sure as hell would not be alive and in my house, either. Neither of you would be here. Understand? I can live on my own, by myself without you or Lev or anyone decidingly annoying the hell out of me, but I choose to let you both drive me up the wall. So yes, as far as I am concerned the fetus is mine, because you are mine. Do you have a problem with that.”

“....no,” Nik said, in a small voice.

“Good,” Cameron said, with finality. “Then what are we going to do, because I’m sure Ash has hounded you with details about what you need to be doing. So you need to be deciding, and deciding soon, so I can deal with everything that needs to be done.”

Nik watched him blankly, not really sure what to say. “I cheated on you, though.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Nikolas, we have never established anything exclusive. We are also not in a relationship, meaning exclusivity is void to begin with. What you have done while Lev was dead, as far as I am concerned, does not negate anything between you and myself. However, if you decide to overdose again, especially in my house, I will personally take you to Death’s door so do not ever try to do something like that again.”

“You can’t just excuse everything you don’t like, Cameron!” Nik snapped. “I- everything I did was completely out of line.”

“I’m not,” Cameron said, not even raising his voice an octave. “I am telling you, do something like that again, and you won’t live to regret it. Lev’s death was clearly hard on you, and I was willing to work with it- as it was my choice. Just like it will be my choice to not deal with anything else like that again. I’m too busy and tired to deal with any more mental breakdowns that are going to give me another headache. Do I make myself clear.”

Nik sighed sharply. “Why don’t you hate me,” Nik said, voice breaking. “I’ve done nothing more than be a thorn in your side and you’re still being like that.’

“Hate is a useless emotion,” Cameron said, baldly. “And not one I’d waste on you when you’ve done nothing to warrant it. Just because you annoy me doesn’t mean I do not enjoy your company.”

Nik wrinkled his nose. “That sounds suspiciously like affection,” Nik muttered. Cameron only rolled his eyes. Nik was quiet, not sure how to feel about anything Cameron just said, when Cameron didn’t really do fancy speeches regarding anything. “I just…. I don’t want to mess this up. I can’t take any of it back.”

“Then don’t take it back,” Cameron said. “Live with it, like the rest of us, and move forward.”

“Well when you put it like that.”

“I sound reasonable?” Cameron said, dryly. “It’s almost like I have five hundred years on you and know what the hell I’m talking about.”

Nik sniffled and wiped at his face. “I think…”

His voice faltered.

Cameron watched him, expectantly. “You think what?”

“I think I want to keep it- the baby,” he said, in a tiny voice. “I just…”

“Then keep it and we’ll deal with it,” Cameron said. “However, there is the matter of making sure the child is recognized as legitimate.”

Nik blinked at him, confused. “Are you saying you want to get married? Because if so-”

“That is not what I’m saying,” Cameron said, looking vaguely repulsed with the idea.

“Oh. Well. I was going to say that was a shitty proposal.”

“Good thing it wasn’t a proposal, then.”

“Then what were you saying? Because I don’t want the kid to be a bastard. Less likelihood of one of your brethren eating it.”

“Well,” Cameron said. “You’re not wrong.”

That was comforting.

Cameron sighed and scratched his face. “What I was saying, before you rudely interrupted me, was that there is a way to legitimize the child, without marriage. However, that is through a mating bond. I am willing to provide one if it will protect the child.”

Nik stared at him, mouth slightly open. “You what.”

The annoyance returned to Cameorn’s face. “Nikolas, you know I detest repeating myself.”

“Yeah, well, I detest getting punched in the face with that kind of offer, Cameron, so excuse me if I’m a little surprised.”

“Do you or do you not accept.”

Nik fell silent. “Cameron?”

“Hm?”

I love you was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would make Cameron uncomfortable, and Nik cared enough about Cameron’s boundaries to not push it. So instead he said, “Thank you.”

The smallest crease appeared between Cameron’s brows. “For?”

“Seeing me.”

----

Lev tried not to let it bother him that Cameron had cleaned up his mess with the plates before he could get to it. And he tried not to let it bother him that Nik was being quiet, and even a little hesitant around him. The unspoken trauma that he knew Nik and Cameron both carried was something that they’d all avoided talking about in the time Lev knew them, but he didn’t like knowing he was the one to trigger Nik’s.

So Lev spent his time napping, as he had for the past month or so, hoping that sleep would magically cure the fact that he’d been dead not too long ago. Or at least make everything hurt a little less. It hadn’t helped anything. Telling them. And maybe that was because of how he’d told them about the pregnancy he’d hidden and lost. The bitter taste of anger still frightened him; it wasn’t natural for him. It felt wrong.

It took Lev a good long while to realize Cameron was leaning against the doorway. Lev tucked his arm under his cheek so he could peer at Cameron a bit more, and gave a quiet, “Hi. Everything okay?”

“Ash will be here in a little bit. You need to get out of bed.”

Lev blinked. Cameron was already gone, so Lev slid out of bed, pausing long enough to slide on one of Nik’s hoodies that he’d stolen several days ago. He figured that and the pair of boxers he’d slept in were good enough. He stuffed his hands in the pockets and shuffled after Cameron. At least he was allowed to nowadays. He nodded awkwardly at the sentries he passed, and found Cameron, as expected, in the kitchen.

Lev settled at the table, watching Cameron make lunch. “Do you want to talk about...” He hesitated, and just left it at that.

Cameron glanced up at him. “Start talking.”

Fair enough. “I never got the chance to decide if I was going to tell you,” Lev admitted quietly. “Before I died. That I was pregnant.”

Cameron was quiet for a minute. “Did you have it confirmed?”

Lev hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “But too many... symptoms lined up. I didn’t get the chance. I just panicked. I couldn’t think.”

“Sounds about right. It was your choice either way, about what to do about it. I’m sure I would have agreed with whatever you wanted.”

“I know,” Lev said. “Just from how you’re handling Nik’s pregnancy.” He watched Cameron for a few minutes, and then said, “He knew. When he killed me.”

Cameron looked his way, for a bit. Lev waited him out patiently, but in the end Cameron said, “That does sound like my brother.”

With a sigh, Lev looked down at the table. “There’s more,” he said eventually. “He said Eden is his.” He mulled over the memories, trying not to flinch at the fresh reminder of pain. “He... implied there might be more than just Eden. But he could have been- by that point I was very confused.”

Cameron gave a forceful sigh, and said, “That also sounds like my brother,” before going back to chopping vegetables.

Lev nodded slowly. “I wanted it,” He finally admitted. “I still do. And it kills me that- I lost it.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Lev replied. “It’s not- I just have to learn how to live with it. And... making sure Nik is healthy and as close to happy as we can get him is more important. But I thought- if it had to come out, you should know, I probably- I would have chosen to keep the baby.”

Cameron put down the knife. He rubbed his eyes, before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“I left,” Lev replied. “And you said you wouldn’t make me stay. I made that choice. It was a terrible one, and I lost everything because of it. But it was mine.” He tapped his fingers on the table.

“Well.” Cameron said. “Do you want another one?”

Lev blinked. “Eventually,” he admitted after a moment. “But not now. I don’t want to- Nik comes first. He needs us more than I want a child. I waited almost a hundred and fifty years to find someone I felt safe enough to want a child with anyone. I can wait more, if that’s an open ended offer.”

“We’ll see.”

Lev had to smother the instinct to try to take it back, to ask if they could- but he’d meant it. Nik needed him. And Lev had Eden. Would have whatever child Nik did, if Nik decided to keep it. And besides. Things were... messy right now.

“Cameron?” Lev said quietly. “I’m... I’m sorry. And I know words won’t fix what I did. So I’ll do my best to show it. Everything, but especially what happened with Nik.”

“Yes,” Cameron said, icily. “I imagine you would feel sorry for telling a suicidal nineteen year old to stay dead.” Cameron went back to slicing vegetables with careful precision. “I’m sure Nik has forgiven you, though.”

“He’s not the only person I wronged, though,” Lev replied.

“Hm.”

Lev waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he nodded at nothing. Rather than continue digging, he settled his chin on his hands and watched Cameron cook in silence. When Cameron put a fancy salad in front of him, Lev mumbled a thank you and poked at it and blinked gratefully at Cameron when he handed Lev some ranch.

While Lev dug in with a little more enthusiasm, Cameron left, presumably to go get Nik. When Nik plopped down beside him, he looked a little sick. Lev patted his knee in comfortingly, but Nik just wrinkled his nose.

“What are we? Rabbits? I thought demons eat people. Why the fuck are we eating salads?”

“There’s chicken in the salad,” Lev offered helpfully. “It’s healthy to eat a vegetable or two, Nik.”

“Yeah, if you’re a rabbit.”

Lev bit his shoulder lightly. “Or in need of some vitamins.”

Nik shot him a dirty glare. “Fine,” he grumbled.

Lev hummed and took another bite.

Ash showed up while Cameronw as cleaning up, before Lev could go back to bed. Probably for the best. Ash hadn’t approved the amount of moping Lev had been doing lately. Lev waved at Ash, giving a small hello.

Ash lifted a brow. “Hi.”

Lev watched Ash for a moment, and then said, “How’s Lucas?”

Ash smiled. “An angel. Compared to Eden.”

“Do you know when we can bring her home?” Lev asked hesitantly. He missed his little monster, and he was quite sure she missed him too.

“I’m sure Bay would let you take her right now, if you wanted.”

Lev perked up a little, but then settled again. “We can’t until you say I’m healthy enough to handle it,” he said solemnly. “And I don’t want to rush it and get sick again, if you don't think I am.”

“Well. I think one final check up is in place. You seem to be keeping your food down. And, you know, not dying. Maybe then you can bring her home.”

Lev nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Okay,” he said agreeably. “Can we start?”

“So it looks like you’re doing pretty good,” Ash confirmed an hour later. “All things considered anyway. But you shouldn’t strain yourself or push your luck. I don’t want you lifting more than thirty pounds until I give the okay.”

Lev nodded vigorously. “I understand,” he promised.

Ash stared him down. “If you lift more than that, I will know.” Coming from Ash, that was more a threat than a promise.

“I know,” Lev promised.

“Good,” Ash said. “Bay also wants to see you.”

If it hadn’t been that tone, Lev might not have paid attention. “See me?” Lev asked slowly. “Or... see me see me?”

“What do you think?”

Right. Lev swallowed. “When?” He finally asked.

“Well,” Ash said, “As soon as I gave the green light. And I just did.”

“O-oh.” Lev looked down at what he was wearing. Still in boxers and Nik’s hoodie. “I should get dressed, then,” he said. “And... ask Cameron to drive me?”

“Probably a good idea. I doubt you can drive.”

Lev shook his head, flushing. He stood, looking to Cameron, who had stuck around. “Is that okay?”

Cameron nodded. “Go get ready.”

Lev nodded. “I’ll get Nik?” he said, backing for the door.

“He’s by the pool.”

Lev scooted down the hall, trotting to the pool. Nik was on the edge of the pool, feet in the water. “Nik,” Lev said. “I gotta go see Bay,” he said, settling beside Nik.

Nik toed the water. “Hm?”

“I don't think this is the sort of talk I can wear just your hoodie and some jeans to,” he said. “You know more about clothes. Can you help me?”

Nik splashed the water a bit with his foot, and then stood. He pulled Lev towards the house again. “I think I got something you can wear.”

Lev nodded, tucking himself into Nik’s side. Nik pulled away only to go digging through Lev’s closet. While he waited, Lev settled on the bed. He pulled off Nik’s hoodie and folded it while he waited for Nik to pull things out.

Eventually Lev found himself dressed in dark jeans and a grey henley. Nik stuck him in a blazer and tried to put him in a pair of white sneakers.

“Aren’t my converse good enough?” Lev protested.

“Considering you came to me for fashion advice, what do you think?”

“That I’m going to be very uncomfortable,” Lev mumbled, reaching for the shoes Nik picked.

“Well it either these or dress shoes,” Nik said, even as Lev put them on. Lev stuck his tongue out at Nik in reply. Nik just lifted an eyebrow. Instead of saying anything, Lev kissed his cheek.

“Are you ready yet?” Cameron asked from the doorway.

Lev pulled away from Nik. “Do I look okay?”

“You look like a gay high school principal,” Nik said solemnly, just as Cameron said, “You look respectable.”

He felt ridiculous, but he supposed that would have to do. He fussed with the blazer and looked at Nik. “Anything else I need?”

Nik pursed his lips. “Spectacles?”

“I can see just fine, Nikolas.”

“I didn’t say you were blind,” Nik said. “I just said you needed glasses.”

Cameron looked annoyed, but Nik’s teasing had eased some of Lev’s anxiety. He took Nik’s hand, and said firmly, “No glasses,” before looking at Cameron. “I think I’m ready to go now?”

Cameron’s answer was to simply leave, so Lev tugged Nik along after. He opened the front seat door for Nik.

Nik made a face. “Is this because I’m pregnant?”

Lev kissed his nose. “It’s because I’m a romantic. And a thank you for helping me figure out what to wear.”

“Uh huh,” Nik said, sliding into his seat.

Lev decided to ignore that, and got in the backseat.

---

It surprised no one that Eden was throwing a fit when they got there. Lev could hear her before Silas even opened the door. The bigger angel stared down at him with wide eyes, like he didn’t really believe Lev was there, but Lev peered around him.

“Is Eden okay?” Lev blurted.

Silas blinked, stepping back automatically. “Uh, yeah. She just- I don’t even know, she’s just angry.”

“Hm,” Lev said, ducking around him. He didn’t have to go far to see Eden tottering down the hallway, screeching around a stuffed giraffe with big black tears rolling down her grey cheeks. She stopped when she saw him so abruptly she fell back on her butt, which really only made her wails get louder.

Lev was quick to scoop her up, murmuring comfort to her as he settled on the floor. When Eden tried to smack him, he caught her little hand easily, and despite that, she settled somewhat.

By the time Eden calmed, Lev realized that Bay and Nate were there. The moment Lev locked eyes with Bay, however, Bay said, “My office.”

Lev pulled himself to his feet and handed Eden off to Cameron, wiping a few tears off her face before following Bay back to his office.

After a moment of hesitation, Lev settled in a chair, trying not to fidget as he waited for Bay to start talking.

“I see that you’re not dead.”

Lev nodded. “I think it was a bit touch and go there for a little bit,” he admitted. After a second, he added, “Once they brought me back. I was definitely dead for a bit there.”

“Ash did seem irritable lately.”

Lev winced at that. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically.

Bay leaned back in his chair, watching him expectantly. “Ash is always like that,” he eventually said.

“Oh.” Lev considered that. “I didn’t see much of him before I died. I think the last time I saw him for any extended time was the night I left Remiel.” He thought for another second. “He seemed irritable then, too, now that I think about it.”

“Hm,” Bay said.

Lev fiddled with his sleeve.

“I’m assuming that Ash told you I wanted to speak to you now that you’re not in danger of dying again.”

After a second, Lev nodded. “He did,” he finally said.

“I’m assuming you know why.”

Lev stared at him for the longest moment. Eventually he said, trying very hard to not sound unsure, “It’s about Nik. Or- what I did while I was dead, with Nik- and- that.”

“It has nothing to do with Nik, and everything to do with the fact that you ignored and disobeyed a direct order from your king.”

“Oh,” Lev said in a small voice. “I- oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

Lev swallowed. “I don’t have any excuses,” he finally said. “And I’m not going to waste your time trying to think of any.”

“Probably wise. You don’t need to dig yourself a deeper hole.”

Lev watched Bay for several awkward minutes. “I’m assuming there’s consequences,” he finally said.

“Correct.”

“Okay,” Lev said simply. Hadn’t he asked for exactly that, days ago when he’d shattered Cameron’s dishes?

“I’ll even let you choose.”

That got a blink from Lev. “Choose?”

“Well I was thinking nineteen years imprisonment, no contact with outside sources,” Bay said. “All your assets and lands would be seized, all titles forfeit. You would have nothing and be nothing.”

Nineteen years. One for every one that Nik had lived, Lev assumed. “And the other option?” he finally said.

“Exile with the same stipulations, except it’s for fifty-seven years,” Bay said levelly. “I’ll leave the choice to you. Choose now.”

For a few moments, Lev stared blankly, thoughts spinning too fast to catch. After a couple heartbeats, though, he forced himself to focus. “I can’t- I won't - put Eden though losing me again,” he said finally. “I’ll- I’ll go into exile. She needs me.”

“Fine. You’ll have twenty-four hours to say your goodbyes and leave the territory. If you’re still here when your twenty-four hours are up, you’ll spend the fifty-seven years in a cell.”

It took a few seconds to click. “O-oh. Okay.” He stood, and then hesitated. “Thank you. You didn’t have to give me any time at all.”

“I know,” Bay said. “My actions have consequences too.”

Lev backed out of the room, sidestepping sentries until he could lean against a wall and breathe. He wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision, but- he’d missed four months of Eden’s life. He’d missed her first steps. He didn’t want to miss anything else.

To his surprise, no one interrupted him. He had all the time and space he needed to gather himself before he went to find the others.

Nate was the first person he ran into. Guilt twisted Lev’s stomach up in knots, but he blurted out a quick and fierce, “I am so sorry,” before Nate could say anything at all.

Even Nate’s kindness was clearly strained. “You should be,” Nate replied. “You almost cost me my brother.”

“I know,” Lev said in a small voice. “I wasn’t- I was wrong. He’s so young. And I was selfish. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for even a fraction of what I would have cost everyone if he’d stayed dead. He deserves that and so much more.”

Nate cocked his head, but didn’t say anything at all.

“I know Nik forgave me, but he shouldn’t have. I haven’t done anything to deserve it yet.”

“Hm. Of course he did. Nik will forgive anyone he loves.”

The fact that Nate, of all people, was being so abrupt with him hurt. Nate was the kindest person Lev had ever met. But Lev’s betrayal had cut deep, and he knew it. “I’ll take care of him,” Lev promised, forcing some spine in his tone. “I promise.”

“Good. Be sure that you do.”

Lev nodded, and slipped around him. He found them in the kitchen. Cameron was holding Eden, looking annoyed, and Nik was sitting at the counter, chewing anxiously on one of his bracelets. The first thing Nik said when he saw Lev was, “Are you okay?”

At some point Bay had joined the rest of them, and had Lucas in his arms. Lev glanced in his direction as he crossed the room to Nik’s side. Lev leaned into Nik, pressing his nose to Nik’s neck. “I’m okay,” he promised. He looked at Cameron anxiously. “I’m being exiled, for fifty-seven years.”

Cameron didn’t even blink. “I suppose that’s better than the alternative.”

Lev winced. “The other option was being in a cell for nineteen years.” He could feel Nik tensing underneath him.

“That’s bullshit,” Nik said loudly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eden was getting restless, giving a small cry

“Yes, I did. Bay ordered me to leave you alone. I did not. Technically, disobeying my king is a form of treason,” Lev offered softly.

“Yeah, well, that’s because Bay’s an emotionally constipated dick,” Nik retorted.

Nate gave a small, “Nik, please. There are two infants in the house.”

Lev fisted his hand in Nik’s shirt, biting Nik’s shoulder in warning. “It’s okay,” he said as firmly as he could, before looking at Cam. “I can stay, can't I?” He stopped, and then asked, “I mean, can I stay?” He didn’t add that he didn't have anywhere to go; it would have felt manipulative.

“Of course you can stay, that’s your home,” Nik said sharply.

Lev pulled back, looking at him. “It’s not my house,” he said simply. “It’s why I’m asking Cameron.” He switched his gaze to Cameron. “After everything, you have every right to say no.”

Cameron bounced Eden lightly. “Nik wants you there.” That seemed to be the end of what Cameron wanted to say.

Lev touched Nik’s chest lightly. Before he could figure out what to say, Nik once again tensed underneath him. Lev followed his gaze to the man that stood in the doorway. He looked almost like Nate, with the fine boned features and longer hair. It took several seconds to recognize him as Az’ril.

Nik and Nate’s father.

Out of the corner of Lev’s eye he saw Nate looked at the ground. Nik, on the other hand, glared at his father. “What are you doing here?” Nik demanded hotly. “Scare any children lately?”

Az’ril leveled Nik a look. “Nikolas. I see you’re just as crass as ever.”

Nik pursed his lips, but before he could say anything, Bay said, “Az’ril that’s enough. You’re here to see me.” Bay handed Lucas to Nate. “We’ll take this to my office.”

As Az’ril left, Lev realized Nik was trembling. When he realized Cameron was approaching, he moved so Cameron could hand Eden over.

Lev swallowed. “Can you take me to see Reneé and Amara?” he asked Cameron.

“We should probably get going then. You can’t have long before your sentence goes into effect.”

He wasn’t wrong. Lev caressed Eden’s cheek lightly.

“Do you want to take Eden with you?” Nate offered. “It won’t take long to pack up her stuff.”

Lev looked to Cameron hopefully. “Can we?”

Cameron inclined his head. “Might as well.”

Lev smiled at Nate. “Can I help pack?”

---

Lev tried to stay engaged on the ride to Reneé’s apartment. She seemed happier, with her own place, andfreer, almost. Amara never showed up, even though Lev texted her to let her know what was going on. He tried not to be hurt by that, and spent a lot of time hugging Raziel. Cin lurked, but he ruffled Lev’s hair when he left, though he gave Eden a wide berth.

On the way home though, it was a struggle to keep his attention on Eden. Nik was quiet too, and since Cameron didn’t bother to put on music, Eden’s babbles were the only sounds in the car.

Cameron whisked Eden away, likely to feed her and put her to bed, so Lev wandered to his bedroom and flopped down, kicking off the stupid sneakers as he did. Nik settled beside him, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“You okay?” he finally asked.

Despite his best efforts, Lev’s eyes burned. “I’m fine,” he forced out.

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you didn’t lie to me.”

Lev considered that, and found himself closer to tears. He too a few breaths before reaching for Nik’s hand. Nik let him press it to his heart, feel the steady, if a bit fast, rhythm there. “I- I’m here. I’m home. And I’ll get to be here to raise Eden. I- I consider that just fine.” He licked his lips as he tried to explain why his chest felt so tight. It didn’t help to watch Nik’s lips thin, but Lev made himself go on. “But- even though I never considered angel territory a home- it was just where I lived. I wasn’t happy there, Nik. I didn’t feel- few enough liked me. But I still feel like I lost something today. I don’t regret choosing you and Eden over a shorter sentence. I don’t. I won’t, ever. But- I’m sad. I’m... grieving, and it feels- sounds- stupid to say that.”

“Well, yeah, I imagine being forcefully evicted from your home for the last hundred and forty years and all of your shit taken from you hurts a little bit. Even if you do romanticize it.”

Confusion was strong enough Lev’s tears never made it to his cheeks. “What do you mean romanticize it?”

“Saying that Eden and me are enough,” Nik said, sharply. “That because you love us, that's enough. It was still where you lived. It was where your family is, where you grew up. A hundred and forty years in one place and you’re perfectly ‘fine’ as you put it. That suffocating shithole is still my home, even if I was miserable there, because even if you hated it, it made you, you. So yeah. I’d say you were lying to me.”

Lev blinked. “This is why I forget how young you are,” he mumbled. “You make more sense than I ever did at nineteen.” Closing his eyes felt like a betrayal, so he just squeezed Nik’s fingers where they pressed to his chest. “I spoke the truth as I understood it,” he finally said. “But you’re not wrong. It’s... it’s a lot. And I don’t know how to process it yet. I don’t think I want to.”

Nik yanked his hand back. “Will you stop saying how young I am? I am perfectly aware of how old I am.” There was something hard in his face. “You don’t seem to care how young I am when you suck my dick.”

Now that one hurt. Because Nik was right. Lev watched him warily, unsure of how to respond just yet. It wasn’t like he could apologize. He knew how Nik flinched when someone said sorry around him. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he finally said. “I’m not good at- talking about the important things. I’m trying to be better, and it’s good that you call me out on it. Right now...” Lev trailed off, thinking hard. “Right now, I’m feeling a lot, and I don’t want to. Deflecting was automatic. I didn’t mean to lie.”

Nik watched him long enough Lev wanted to squirm. Eventually, he said, “Sure. We should probably go get Eden settled.”

Lev nodded. “Give me a few minutes?” He asked. “I’ll follow soon?”

“Okay,” Nik said, rolling off the bed.

Lev waited until it was quiet, tucking his arm under his cheek. “Darius?” he whispered. There was no answer, but Lev hadn’t expected one. “Did I make the right decision?” he asked anyway. A lump was forming, and he hated it. Hated how quick he was to cry. It made him feel weak. Childish. “Should I have come back at all? I keep making things worse.”

Something cold touched his cheek, and a shiver went down his spine. It felt like it was leeching all the feeble warmth he’d produced, especially as that cold traced down his throat.

Lev was out of the bed before he could think about it. Whatever he was supposed to understand from that didn’t matter. He took off his blazer and threw it on the bed before he followed Nik to the kitchen. He’d think about it later. Or maybe he wouldn’t.

---

Amara was exhausted by the time she made it to Biela’s palace. She’d flown the whole way there. Hadn’t even bothered to take her motorcycle. She made her way past the gates, trying to get her panting under control.

After searching the halls for a bit, Amara had herself a little more under control. Somewhere along the fifth corridor she wandered, haf hoping she didn’t find Biela, she ran into Dacia.

The plump, blonde angel sized her up with a knowing eye. “You look a little lost.” Despite those words, Dacia had a kindness to her. It reminded Amara a little of Nate, whose sheer goodness made Amara feel... a little guilty sometimes.

“I’m looking for Biela,” Amara admitted.

“I assumed. Would you like me to take you to her? Or would you like to stay a little lost for a while longer?”

Amara managed a small smile. “I have a bit of a time sensitive conversation,” she said. “As much as I’d like to be a little lost a while longer, I think I should... probably bite the bullet.”

This time Dacia looked a little grim. “Fair enough. She’s in her dance studio. I’ll take you to her.”

Amara looked down at the floor as she followed. She only looked up when they approached a pair of double doors Amara recognized. She waited until Dacia had stepped inside to poke her head in. Biela was not in her usual outfit, and she looked sweaty. If she was tired, it didn’t show.

The music Amara had barely noticed stopped the moment Biela looked her way. “What do you want?”

“Bay exiled Lev,” Amara said before she could stop herself.

“I’m aware,” Biela said. “I’m failing to see your point.”

“I made the poor choice of not keeping you informed once. I won’t do it again.” Amara fought to keep her voice steady. “I came to ask you to consider mercy. If you’ve not decided whether or not he can stay in your lands, I- he has nowhere else to go. I just- please.”

“Stop groveling. You sound pathetic.”

Amara straightened - stiffened.

Biela reached for a towel, patting her face. “Him not having anywhere else to go sounds like a poor choice on his part.”

“He made that choice because Eden needs him.”

“What is one child to thousands?” Biela asked. “That child is not your cousin’s. He has no right to her, or to be in my lands. He offers me nothing. I have to make the right decision for my people. Not an angel.”

“Then I don’t have any argument for you,” Amara replied quietly, her heart cracking just a little. “All I can do is ask for your mercy.”

Biela gave her a little smile. It wasn’t one bit friendly.

“Biela,” Dacia said softly.

Biela flicked Dacia a sharp look. “Don’t call me that.”

This time Dacia smiled, the expression small, and maybe a little fond. “Bea,” she corrected herself.

This time Biela looked a bit satisfied. “What will you give me? How much is your cousin’s life worth to you?”

“Anything,” Amara breathed. “I did all of this so he could be happy. I’ll do anything to give him that chance again.”

Biela lifted her chin ever so slightly. “Fine. I’ll restrict him to Cameron’s house. You will not see him again.” Dacia made a small noise. Biela looked a little annoyed, but added, “Until I feel otherwise. Any contact and he’s back in the ground.”

Amara swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you, Majesty” she added, more clearly, flicking a look to Dacia to let her know she was included in Amara’s feverish gratitude.

“Anything else you came to beg me for?” Biela asked, drawing Amara’s attention back to her.

“If there’s anything I can do to- to at least- ease the effects of what I did- even if it costs me my life- I’ll do it,” Amara said, even though she knew it was stupid.

“Do not tempt me,” Biela said, turning away in a dismissal even before she clipped out a curt, “Leave.”

Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #angels and demons #ch: cameron #ch: nik #ch: eden #ch: ash #ch: bay #ch: nate #cameron and nik and lev

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kat0v01 · 3 years

Text

What you do for Halloween

(Just wanted to share what I wrote for Halloween. There’s one more part)

Asra:

Asra enjoys the festivities around Halloween. He often laughs about the kinds of things that scare people around this time of year. Understandably, as a magician, he's seen and experienced a lot more paranormal events than anyone so he knows very well. You have no excuse either, having met with apparitions and the Arcana themselves, however, you are still a bit spooked by some things. Asra thinks it's cute you get a little afraid and to make things more fun, he suggests the both of you decorate the shop for the holiday. You both hang lanterns with a special herb that, when burned, give off a reddish glow, providing an eerie effect to the shop. You both also place some decidedly spooky jars filled with magical ingredients sure to give the average person a fright. As daylight wanes, little patters of feet and giddy voices grow behind the front door. Asra opens it to find some of the local kids wishing them a happy Halloween. Faust pops out of his shirt earning a scream of delight from the children and giggles. You present a dish of candies for them to take as Asra entertains by doing little magical tricks for this group and many others the rest of the evening.

Julian:

Julian loves the dramatics associated with Halloween. He spends the better part of the morning dramatically throwing his cape in front of his face whenever you both spoke, replying in an overly theatrical manner. This is always accompanied by waggling eyebrows. You roll your eyes at his silliness with a smile. When you ask him later what he wants to do that evening, he smiles nervously and presents two tickets for the theater. He explains that there's a special Halloween performance and that he is going to be in it. At that moment, you understand where the theatrics is coming from and hug him, excitedly saying you'd love to go. He smiles in relief and tells you when it is starting. In the evening, you both get dressed and head to the theater. Taking a seat in the front row, you eagerly wait for it to begin so you can watch Julian perform. The play starts a few minutes later and you watch enraptured as Julian commands the stage and performs his lines perfectly. Every now and then, you both make eye contact and when you smile in encouragement, he smiles back and returns his focus to the audience, beaming and energized. When it's over, you plant a kiss on his cheek and tell him it was a wonderful performance. He stares at you, googly-eyed and grinning and you practically drag him to the Rowdy Raven to celebrate.

Nadia:

Nadia spends most of the day busy with palace duties. She knows of a lot of Halloween parties that are slated to occur this evening and have the potential to cause some damage to the city. That morning and afternoon are spent organizing cleaning detail for the next day, and guards to keep the peace during the night. When she's done, she retires to her room to rest. There's a knock at the door and a servant enters the room once they have been called. They announce that you are here to see them and Nadia tells them to send you in. Walking in, Nadia is sat on one of her plush cushions, sipping tea. You sit across from her and ask how everything is going. She replies tiredly that she spent the better part of the day organizing for the Halloween festivities. You ask if she's planning on attending anything and she shakes her head. You say she should go out and do something tonight, but she says she's not sure if she has the time. You respond that if she's been working all day, she should unwind, but she also hasn't been among the people in a while and it would be good to interact with them, especially on such an exciting day. She thinks for a moment and agrees, but wonders what she should do. You think on it and come up with an idea. Half an hour later, you're both cruising the streets of Vesuvia in a carriage. It is still early so people are congregating outside, chatting excitedly about the night's events as the carriage approaches. You both wish everyone a safe and fun holiday while handing out treats. The people are stunned to see Nadia and eagerly wish her a happy Halloween in return. Leaving the group, Nadia beams and thanks you for the suggestion, happy to do something for her people. You spend the rest of the evening wishing people an enjoyable night and handing out more treats.

Portia:

Portia loves Halloween and the fact that milady gives her time off. Since she has a whole day free, you both think about what you want to do for the holiday. She perks up suddenly and asks if you want to go trick or treating. You're not sure about it but she begs until you agree. Happily, Portia walks to her closet and begins tossing clothes out and onto her bed. You ask what she's doing and she replies that if you're both going trick or treating, you need to look the part. Jokingly, you say you can always go as a magician. She turns around to give you a flabbergasted look and exclaims that won't do at all. She throws some clothes at you and asks you to try them on. She turns back to the closet to figure out something for herself. An hour later, Portia has decided on a pirate costume. She gives yours a onceover and smiles, satisfied. Arm in arm, you head into the city to stop by friends' homes and locals for treats.

Muriel:

Muriel is not very interested in Halloween because he's not very interested in going into town despite your request. He thinks he is scary enough and doesn't need people to remind him. You tell him that you'll be there with him, so he shouldn't feel worried about what others think. He thinks on it for a little longer before heaving a deep sigh and agreeing to go with you. You ask him if he wants to wear a costume and he refuses, preferring the comfort of his own cloak. Hand in hand, you make your way into the city. Most people pass you by. Some stop and stare at Muriel, purely because of his striking height, but no one says anything. A child with their parent stops walking to look at Muriel and ask who he is supposed to be. He replies that he's not wearing a costume. The child ponders over the answer before responding that he looks cool anyway. You both wave good-bye to the child as they were dragged off by their parent. Muriel looked on stunned after the child and their response. Reaching for his other hand, you turn towards him. Offering a smile, you ask him how he's feeling. He gives a small smile back and replies that he's doing alright.

Valerius:

Valerius is not a fan of going out in general. He prefers the comforts of the palace with a glass of wine and a good book. Well, since you're here, he can't exactly read right now as you keep asking him to come out Halloween night. He refuses every time and despite your best efforts, you give up. You walk over to his window and lean against the sill, pouting. Valerius briefly returns to his book before sighing and looking over at you. He places his book down and walks over to you, glass in hand. He rolls his eyes and says you're being dramatic, but you continue to sulk. Eyeing the city below, little lights from wandering Halloween groups flicker on and move through the streets. He watches them for a moment before glancing at you, transfixed on the lights. He turns back to his chair and pours out another glass of wine that was sitting at a small table. He hands you a glass and leans against the sill next to you. He mutters an apology for denying your request and admits that he's not the best when it comes to interacting with people outside of his job. This is the first you're hearing this and you apologize for pushing the subject. He nods and then places a kiss against your temple, thanking you. You both share a quiet evening, sipping wine, chatting and watching the little twinkling lantern lights dance like fireflies through the streets of Vesuvia.

Lucio:

Lucio likes Halloween because it's a chance for him to party. He bursts into the room and announces that he is throwing a spooky Halloween party. You ask when he decided this and he replies grandly that he thought of it just now. Grabbing your hand, he hoists you out of the chair and into the hall, shouting for servants to assist him. Around five descend on your position in the hallway, all asking what the count wishes. Lucio begins rattling off decorations and local shops that can make spooky features in all the rooms. Servants nod after each of his requests and scatter once he's finished his list. He looks over at you and winks, asking if you are prepared to have the time of your life. You smirk back at him and tell him to dazzle you. Lucio grins in return and says it's a promise.

Devil:

Surprisingly, the Devil enjoys Halloween. He gets a kick out of the things that scare people at this time of year. Hearing some of the things that spook you, he laughs boisterously, amused that you are scared of anything while also involved with the Devil. The Devil. You roll your eyes at his teasing and ask if he would like to accompany you through the city streets. He agrees and you both set off. You chat with a few party-goers at one point in the evening before noticing the pallor of their skin and an aghast expression across their faces. You look at them confused before noticing an elongating shadow with horns stretching in front of you. The group picks up and runs before you can say anything and you whisk around, scolding the tall shadow with glowing red eyes. The Devil chuckles as you walk on in a huff. He continues to do similar acts, frightening people so much that they run off screaming. Towards the end of the night, you snap at him, asking what he did that for. He innocently shrugs and grins, responding that it's Halloween; this is the one night where he gets to be as scary as he wants.

Magician:

The Magician is very interested in Halloween. He finds mortal customs unusual and intriguing. He ruffles your hair affectionately when you ask him if he wants to go out with you that evening and replies that he'd love to go. You fasten a mask over his face seeing as he wants to take part in the festivities and head out. On the city streets, the Magician gets a lot of looks. Eventually, people start coming around him and complimenting him on his costume. You can't really hide his tail too well, so people spot it easily. The Magician likes the attention he's getting and before he's about to explain who he is, you drag him off to a more deserted street. He laughs at your distress and thanks you for worrying about him. He promises to be more careful and then asks what you'd like to do next.

#arcana asra #arcana julian #arcana lucio #arcana nadia #arcana portia #arcana scenarios #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #arcana devil #arcana magician #arcana muriel #arcana valerius

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my-fanfic-library · 4 years

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [2]

Masterlist

~^*^~

His wicked eyes were set on your form. You were trying hard not to quiver under his heated gaze. How had he managed to get out? Did he have to rip his way out of that cell or was he allowed to walk free for some unknown reason? Not that the answer to those questions even mattered. A 6’4” vampire who had openly discussed your influence on his appetite was standing before you.

Should you flee? How does one overpower a vampire, anyhow? You had read in the account and heard it right from his mouth that Dracula could turn into certain creatures. It would take one shift of him into the black, beastly wolf for him to hunt you down with ease. You’d never even make it back up the slipway.

Your mind pounded and the indication that your heart was doing summersalts came to your attention as Dracula audibly took in a breath. He hummed in satisfaction as he released your scent. He knew he had managed to catch you completely off guard.

Within your bag, your phone began to vibrate and Dracula looked accusingly down at it. You bit your lip, fingers delving in to grab the decode and quickly answer.

“[First]?” Zoe’s voice rang through your ear.

“Zo-Zoe...” your lips trembled and it had nothing to do with the cool sea breeze.

“They let him out. They let Dracula out!” Her voice was in a similar state of panic and you knew it was because she was one of the only other people in the world who knew of his capabilities.

“Zoe, I-“

“Apparently he has a lawyer! Can you believe it?! Anyway, you need to be careful. He seemed to take a liking to you during the time you spent with him today. Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”

“Zoe-“

“Promise me, [First]-“

“It’s a little bit too late for that...” you trailed off, eyes locking with the man’s towering above you.

“How do you-... Where are you?!”

You had no chance to reply as cool fingers brushed against your own. You watched in horror as Dracula snatched the device from you and lifted it to his own ear.

“Dr. Van Helsing, how nice to get into contact... yes I know... trust me, I know... I suppose you could say it is a curiosity of sorts. It’s mere curiosity... what am I doing it for? Something different. Don’t bother us again, we’re busy.”

You could hear Zoe’s desperate pleas on the other end of the phone but Dracula had already figured out how to end a phone call and that was that.

“Absolutely amazing...” he breathed, turning your phone through his fingers as he inspected it, “they gave me a larger one in the Foundation. Did you know you can do practically anything on these little things? And it must be enchanted, considering it can deliver your voice to someone else so far away.” The wonder held in his eyes as he spoke made him seem almost human. Almost.

“Yes, I knew that...” you began, voice slow and as steady as possible, “but it’s not enchanted, it’s electric.”

“Electric...? How curious...”

“What is it that you wanted, and don’t just repeat your answer.” You folded you arms, trying to remain composed but your mind was whirring with the thought that this may be your last moment or two alive. If he really had decided to choose you as his next meal...

He sighed, an agitation growing deep in his chest. One of the only things he had ever craved so deeply was company. Most humans that he had interacted with were dull, cardboard cutouts of one another. Over 500 years of the same specimen got old and fast. There had only ever been a handful of humans that satisfied his thirst for something other than blood - good company. And Jonathan Harker, Sister Agatha Van Helsing and her descendant Dr. Zoe Van Helsing had been the only ones to peak his curiosity. But hours ago, when you had come in with a front of iron, and a poorly hidden core nothing short of anxiety-ridden, you had peaked this curiosity once more.

The sea groaned away in the distance and the seagulls had decided on steering well away from the undead figure on the sand. It was much more quiet, much more intimate and grew much more darker with every passing moment. Dracula’s eyes seemed locked on you, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read between the lines of your stoic gaze up at him.

“What would you like my answer to be, [First]?” He inquired softly.

“Truthful, for starters.”

“Alright. You see, after 5 centuries of the same old types of people, one becomes accustomed to those who flee and quiver at the mere sight of a beast such as myself. I will never forget the day I made my entrance at the nunery Sister Agatha resided at.” At the mention of this woman’s name, you noticed a tenderness fill his voice and a small smile threatened the corners of his lips. A spark of wonder lit up in your chest. Had a cold, ancient, blood drinking beast grown a soft spot for one of the only people to put him in his place? His eyes glazed over momentarily and he seemed to look right through you.

“You still haven’t answered the question and you’re about to drool at the thought of this Sister Agatha.” You rolled your eyes. He immediately snapped out of it and there was a low rumble emitting from his chest for a split second.

“I like good company. Sister Agatha was good company. She was inquisitive and intrusive of my routine. While she lost our personal battle, she most certainly won my attention.” He looked down at you and noticed goosebumps rising on your skin. The sky was darkening even more and the navy had stretched out and was almost kissing the horizon, “goodness it’s late for a mortal, isn’t it?” His eyes glossed over the North Sea that expanded far into the horizon.

“Count Dracula?” You spoke, “are you going to kill me - or are you waiting for me to submit myself to you?” You has to ask. You needed to know if your life had reached its expiration date.

“Hm? Oh, not at all.” He looked down and then back towards you, a most wicked and mischievous grin taking hold over his features, “whilst I do enjoy a little food play every now and again,” he stepped forward and his right hand came up to cup your face delicately, “I have no intention of feasting upon you. Not yet, at least. Your scent alone is intoxicating. But your wit, your strength and your character are making me so very interested in you, Miss [First].” He stepped forwards, beginning to close the already small gap between you, “no, I think I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, young lady.” He spoke gently, eyes now boring down into your own. His orbs glistened in the moonlight, “I want to see just what you’re capable of.” He whispered.

“Maybe another time.” You suggested. Your eyes flitted up to the moon and back to him, “if all of this vampire lore is real, surely you should be off to your Transylvanian Earth to protect yourself?”

“And why would I do that?” He scoffed.

“Because it’s a full moon and that means werewolves.”

At the mere notion, the Count could no suppress the deep and hearty chuckle that bubbled up from his stomach. His eyes crinkled and his laughter caused him to bare his white teeth, currently blunt and of no means a weapon brandished to hurt you. For a moment, disbelief struck you as his laughs echoed along the beach and he let go of your face to smooth over his jacket. It took another moment for him to gain composure.

“Werewolves - now you’re being ridiculous.” He smirked down at you. He shoved one hand into his pocket.

“So a 523 year old vampire from Transylvania who wants to befriend a human because they’re using scientifically proved tactics to not die as prey and wants to know if there is any more substance to that is totally just mormal but you draw the line at warewolves? The supposed arch-enemy of vampires?”

“It’s ridiculous, I mean, how on Earth would the first warewolf even be created?”

“Well how were you created?” You challenged.

“Well, when a man loves a woman-“ he smirked.

“If you continue to speak, I really will drive a stake right through your chest.” He groaned inwardly at your response.

“I must admit, I do like your flare. You are very much lively, aren’t you?” He cocked his head.

“Livelier than you.”

~^*^~

When you awoke the next morning, you knew that you were in for some serious trouble. Zoe had left you over 30 missed calls, along with a plethora of concerned text messages inquiring about your and Dracula’s whereabouts. Although you could no longer answer for the Count, you found yourself sending a snarky reply that you were currently in bed. This turned out to be a mistake as within 10 minutes, your front door had burst open and Zoe, along with five armed men appeared at the foot of your bed.

You should have known that Zoe of all people would have freaked out over your contact with Dracula - she had been chasing him her entire life. Now he had been found. Not only had he been found, he had somewhat been resurrected and was on the prowl again for food and destruction. And you were a prime target.

After checking your body for bite marks, she began to harass you for every single detail about your encounter with Dracula the previous evening. You told her about him finding warewolf lore ridiculous, the obvious obsession he seemed to have with Sister Agatha, and how he had most likely revealed just a little too much to you about his true intentions. He wanted good company and anyone who rose to challenge him or stand out from the usual screaming meals he usually dealt with was a possible target for his attention.

“I don’t get it... I mean, I kind of do, it must be lonely to have everyone be afraid of- no I don’t get it.” Zoe sighed, “he’s an unnatural predator. Everyone is meant to be scared of him. A lion would never go for a snake because the snake would never be afraid of a lion. It wouldn’t even pay the snake any attention whatsoever! It would go after a zebra or something. So why is Dracula so focused on the snakes...”

“Thank you for insinuating that I am a snake, Zo.” You rolled your eyes.

“Not just you, but it seemed Jonathan Harker was a snake in Dracula’s hunting ground as well as Sister Agatha... I am said to look just like her, and I take no bull crap from him either...” You could tell she was losing you as she drifted off into a train of thought, “you’re going to have to cater to Dracula. We need to know what makes him tick.”

“What? So you’re going to use me as bait to do your little experiments on him?” You frowned.

“You said yourself he doesn’t intend on harming you.”

“Yeah, because a vampire never lies, huh, Zoe?”

“Please, [First]. I promise you we will do everything to keep you safe.”

“You better have a whole S.W.A.T. styled team on my ass at all times, Zo.”

“Only the best for my favourite assosicate.” Your ease to obey her wishes and commands caused a smile to break out on her features.

~^*^~

Walking along the pier, you allowed the hot summer breeze to ruffle your hair and cool your hot skin a little. Looking to your right was the Abbey perched high on the cliffs. You could make out some forms of the last tourists enjoying their visit. The sun had yet again sunken well below the horizon and your heart thumped in your chest. You anticipated a certain undead male’s arrival at any moment. It wasn’t that you had invited him out, but you knew that if he had become attached to your scent, he’d find you.

It was only a matter of time before he did find you. And you dreaded that moment.

#probably sucks like the last one sorry but yall asked for it #also i kind of know where im going with this but not really #im just enjoying writing drac #dracula #bbc dracula #claes bang #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #dolly wells

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ink-asunder · 3 years

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The Heartless DLC - The Rest of the Story

I’ve given a lot of thought to this, but I’ve decided to drop my Dragon Age: Inquisition/Dragon’s Dogma crossover fic, The Heartless DLC. I’m not out of ideas, but it turns out retelling the entire last 2/3rds of the game WITH original quests was too much of an undertaking for me. That combined with my surprising distaste with elements of Dragon Age and issues with the fandom just made it a project that I have no interest in continuing at this time.

It’s not fair to keep my readers in the dark, even if I *do* plan to get back to it someday. So I’m going to give a heavily abridged but general summary of how The Heartless DLC would’ve continued and ended right here, just so you get the full story instead of me leaving you hanging. It’s also a fairly long post!

After the events at Adamant, the Inquisitor and Arisen ltake care of some side-quests, favor quests, and cleaning up some areas whilst also preparing for the ball at Halamshiral. As stated previously, the Arisen and Gale will be going on their own, not under the Inquisition. Once there, the Inquisitor searches for clues, and the Arisen very quickly realizes that there are pawns serving at the ball. Gale pretends to faint, which allows him and the Arisen to be temporarily excused while the pawns take them to the servant’s quarters.

Once in the privacy of the servant’s quarters, the pawns give Marnie an urgent update about the state of things in Gransys. The Duke wasn’t ill, he was trying to keep her away. Nothing particularly heinous is unfolding, but the pawns are worried the Arisen has abandoned them. Marnie assures them that she’ll return, but before they resolve the issue, the harlequin drops in and tries to murder them.

Cut back to the Inquisition. The Inquisitor finally finds some clues and escapes to the servants quarters with his companions. By the time they get there, Marnie and the pawns are nowhere to be found and everyone else is slaughtered. They briefly have a moment of “oh, so I guess we might have to consider Marnie did this” and move on. They find Marnie and the pawns engaged in battle in the courtyard, and the two groups converge for the rest of the quest. They discover the pawns have been traveling to and from Gransys by a Riftstone they brought overseas with them. This Riftstone is later transported to a grove closer to Skyhold for ease of access to the Pawn Guild. It might be noted that Marnie is the one who finds and unlocks the Empress halla door, mostly because her pawns were collecting whatever they could find already. She has Gale interrogate the man for her, then she brings the information to the Inquisitor. The empress is spared, Florianne is arrested, and the Inquisitor has enough evidence to ally all three parties.

Now that there’s a Riftstone at Skyhold, Gale is going out at night on jobs in other worlds. More pawns begin to frequent Skyhold. They don’t blend in well, but the Arisen is able to explain it away as if the Duke sent over members of his elite army, of which the Arisen is a commander. No one ever suspect she had that kind of station. The pawns all seem moderately wary of Solas, but decide he won’t pull anything in Skyhold around the Arisen, for whatever reason. Gale has the most influence over the other pawns aside from the Arisen because he is the main pawn in this universe. That puts him at a high position, even though he may be younger than many pawns he meets.

Gale still goes to Solas frequently. Their meetings range from Gale asking for help with spells to discussing the Inquisition and the Arisen. Solas starts asking Gale to keep their meetings a secret from the Arisen (red flag!). Meanwhile, Cole and Marnie settle their differences; Marnie says she was never upset with Cole to begin with, and they both make a point to be more objective and communicative with each other. Marnie resumes training Cole and gifts him a pair of climbing boots with spikes on the bottoms (shout out to RavenNox on fanfiction.net for mentioning the strider concept art in a review, because I hadn’t seen it before!).

After Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts, the Inquisitor decides to finally get in a good dragon hunt like I’ve been teasing. This is a long-ish “Dragonhunt Arc,” and it’s what I’d imagine Marnie’s main favor quest would be if this was a real DLC. They go to the Hinterlands to fight the Fereldan Frostback, (I know, I should be writing them getting back at that damn dragon in Crestwood, but I haven’t written anything in the Hinterlands yet, and I wanna get to it). There’s an epic battle where the Inquisition FINALLY gets to see more of that dynamic climbing from Marnie and Cole. Gale also shows some creative use of healing spells by preemptively casting healing spells while Marnie is in danger, then she’ll heal as soon as she’s injured and it’ll spare her, (Gale actually did stuff like this with consumable curatives while I was fighting the Ur-Dragon quite a few times, so I wanted to implement it).

At the end of the battle, the Arisen realizes that dragons are just animals here, as opposed to intelligent, self-possessed beings like in Gransys. Therefore, the only real “reason” she came to Thedas was a bust. She’s noticeably sullen and distraught for several days, and Gale begins to worry. Eventually, Gale reaches out to the Inner Circle for help, and they arrange a quiet evening in the yard where she and Gale could dress fancy and slow-dance because it was the one thing she wanted to do at Halamshiral and couldn’t do. There’s this vague internal monologue about how she never gets to keep what she loves, and it’s implied she only truly loves Gale, and it’s also a subtle reminder that she’s a fucking god, but anyway.

After the Dragonhunt Arc, I get back to the main quest, except I kind of don’t, because I want things to be more dramatic. They chip away at some favor quests, and oddly enough, Gale and the Arisen start to drift apart. This is due to several factors including but not limited to Marnie being preoccupied with other pawns and Inquisition-related duties, but it’s also largely because of a concentrated effort on several people’s part to get Gale to assert himself as an individual human as opposed to a pawn defined by his Arisen.

When they go to the Temple of Mythal, Marnie and Gale can barely keep themselves together. The group manages to complete the quest regardless. They ally with Abelas and Morrigan drinks from the Well of Sorrows.

When they face off against Corypheus, Marnie uses the Backfire skill when fighting the red lyrium dragon to ensure it dies. In that moment, a part of her is frighteningly powerful, almost like she is no longer human. (God this stuff sounds corny.) She passes out for a minute and Gale stays with her while she recovers and the others go to fight Corypheus. Corypheus probably delivers a villainous monologue. I was originally going to have Marnie and Gale bust in and at the part where Corypheus says "ancient ones, if you've ever been there, be with me now," Marnie says "I am one" but I decided against it. The Inquisitor lands the killing blow because this is his quest and his game.

During the afterparty, the Arisen and Gale interact with each member of the inner circle with the news that they'd be leaving for Gransys in the morning. Neither are drinking and they're both dressed as if they're going to leave any minute.

When Marnie and Gale are setting off, Cole comes to Marnie one last time and tells her she never will be alone. That reassures her and, for the time being, she seems ready to confront Grigori upon her return to Gransys.

When Marnie and Gale return for the Tresspasser DLC, they still haven't killed Grigori, but they did go to Bitterblack Isle. As such, their gear is dope and dragonforged, and their mental health is in shambles. Gale also converted to the way of the bow while they were there. They aid the Inquisition in fighting Qunari and finding Solas, and he and Marnie have a final showdown where he's revealed to be the Dread Wolf and she's revealed to be the Seneschel who reset the world so she could relive being the Arisen again and again. Solas needles her about why she redid everything, why she refuses to assume her place as Seneschel, and how many times she's done this same thing over and over again. Gale manages to shoot Solas from afar and they're all driven apart.

After the Inquisition returns to Skyhold and orients themselves, only Gale reappears saying his Arisen sent him in case they meant her any harm after her reveal. After the Inquisitor agrees not to compromise Marnie, Gale leads him to the ruins by the Riftstone, where Marnie's been waiting. They have a chat about her true origins and intentions, and she admits she didn't defeat Grigori because she knew she'd have to leave the mortal world soon after. She agrees to help the Inquisition when she can and places a Portcrystal by the Riftstone. They both agree that things are probably going to get a whole lot worse.

And that's where the fic ends. There's also a number of subplots I neglected to detail. Cole's favor quest, a few side quests related to the pawn guild, etc. As I said, I might return to the fic later on, but I really don't care for it or the fandom or the source material anymore. It's sad, but I'm happier elsewhere. And I thought it was only fair to leave some conclusion to the fic regardless. I might post certain chapters and snipets on my tumblr, but for the most part, this is the last you'll see of the official fic.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the readers and fans that have stuck with me through all this. I wish you all the best, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full fic. Stay safe out there!

#the heartless dlc #my fanfic #a conclusion of a project

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morphedphaseblog · 4 years

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The starless sea by Erin Morgenstern

Goodreads version

The introduction

This is just to warn everyone that I'm not a literature student, an English major nor a native English speaker, so I'm sorry in advance if this is a jumbled mess. I tend to ramble a lot but I've really tried to keep this as short as possible. (Short meaning a little bit over two thousand words for one review, I've never written a review this long.) I wrote this for self indulgence and for my lovely book club @readerbookclub

The first impression

This book pleasantly surprised me, it was like a very long dream that you don't want to wake up from. The moment I finished it I wished that I hadn't because I couldn't part from it just yet. It would feel almost like cheating, I wanted the intertwined stories to continue and for me to remain in its trance, lost in the beautiful writing and bizarre world.

I will be the first to admit that when someone says the story is written almost poem-like, in prose, and similar, I will immediately think of meaningless quotes that are there just to look pretty. Characters saying things just to sound deep, frilly writing that leads nowhere, and dragged on descriptions that had no place being that long and boring. Those are the first things I think of when I'm confronted with someone explaining those kinds of books to me, and that's completely my fault. This book was none of that, it was captivating from the first page to the last.

"There is a pirate in the basement. (The pirate is a metaphor but also still a person.) "

I can tell you, when I first read this, on the first goddamn page, I was hooked. This book has a strong bizzare sort of setting, one that almost reminds me of Neil Gaiman, distinctively Neverwhere with its underground society and twisted perceptions of reality, and yet this book stands out on its own as an individual. It's definitely a unique book, one that I'm still hesitant to part from.

The writing

This book has a very unique writing style, one that is extremely consistent throughout the book. There's nothing I hate more than an inconsistent writing style that changes without a reason. The author plays around with words and describes things simply yet poetically. There were only maybe two instances where I thought the writing was a bit pretentious, but ultimately the good outweighs the bad.

I don't know what exactly it is, but I will try and explain through the next few quotes:

"The book is mis-shelved in the fiction section, even though the majority of it is true and the rest is true enough"

(This really gives you the sense of vague foreshadowing in the book, where even though the description tells you sweet sorrows is mostly true you don't realise how true it actually is. I never saw the fact that the characters in that book would be actual people that interact with our main characters. Plus the writing is really pretty)

"It's binding has been cracked a handful of times, once a professor even perused the first few pages and intended to come back to it but forgot about it instead."

(Is it just me but these small detailed descriptions really give you a sense of real world happenings and that the story is really set in the real world. You can imagine people passing their fingers over the spine of the book before glancing around and getting distracted with something else. The professor taking it into his hands and skimming it but ultimately forgetting all about it later, and finally Zachary reading the whole book from top to bottom.)

"His dark hair is grading at the temples, framing a face that would be called handsome if the word rugged or unconventionally were attached to it."

(Now I'm in love with this kind of mental visual, it's fun and it almost plays with your expectations. I just really like small things like these, they immediately make my reading extremely entertaining.)

"Someone in the corner is dressed as a highly recognizable author or, Zachary thinks as he gets a closer look, it might be that highly recognizable author."

(Again as before, this is the kind of writing I like. It plays with your imaginary visuals of what's happening and making them ten times more fun, especially when we confirm a bit later that that had indeed been that highly recognizable author.)

"He walks over bones he mistakes for dust and nothingness he mistakes for bones."

(Yet another example of those fun visuals, I didn't even realise how many of these I had marked until I had to go through them for this review. I just adore this writing style.)

I have so many more of these so here are just a few more to really make this review even longer:

"A portrait of a young man in a coat with a great many buttons but the buttons are all tiny clocks, from the collar to the cuffs, each reading different times."

"His face is so much more than hair and eye colour, she wonders why books do not describe the curves of noses or the length of the eyelashes. She studies the shape of his lips. Perhaps a face is too complicated to capture in words."

"There are dozens of giant statues. Some figures have animal heads and others have list their heads entirely. They are listed throughout the space in a way that looks so organic that Zachary would not be surprised if they moved, or perhaps they are moving, very, very slowly."

"The figure in the chair is carved from snow and ice. As her gown cascades down around the chair the ripples in the fabric become waves, and within waves there are ships and sailors and sea monsters and then the sea within her gown is lost in the drifting snow."

"Allegra watches him with studied interest from the other end of the table, the way one watches a tiger in a zoo or possibly the way the tiger watches the tourists."

"It sounds strange and empty now, in her head. Rhyme can hear the hum of the past stories though they are low and quiet, the stories always calm once they have been written down whether they are past stories or present stories or future stories.

It is the absence of the high-pitched stories of the future that is the most strange. There is the thrum of what will pass in the next few minutes buzzing in her ears- so faint compared to the tales layered upon tales that she once heard- and then nothing. Then this place will have no more tales to tell." .

(Probably one of my favourites, it really highlights everything I like about this style of writing.)

Another kind of writing style I noticed in the book was an abundance of making things literally feel alive, giving human emotions to objects, personification. I don't come across this too often in other books, and when it happens it isn't repeated as often in that same book,since it tends to get old, but as we have already learned Erin Morgenstern never makes this boring. She plays around with this and never seems to stop, adding another layer to her writing cake. I love how she gives these characteristics to even the smallest of crevices hidden in shadows, something just people wouldn't even think of.

"He takes his torch and explores the shadows, away from the doors and the tent, among jagged crystals and forgotten architecture. He carries the light into places long unfamiliar with illumination that accept it like a half-remembered dream."

"Outside the inn the wind howls, confused by this turn of events. (The wind does not like to be confused. Confusion ruins it's sense of direction and direction is everything to the wind.)"

"The wind howls after him as he leaves in fear of what is to come, but a mortal cannot understand the wishes of the wind no matter how loud it cries and so these final warnings go unheeded."

"If the sword could sigh with relief as it is taken from its scabbard it would, for it has been lost and found so many times before and it knows this time will be the last."

One more thing that caught my eye in the writing was also the composition, where we technically start with in medias Res. We find out by the end of the book that everything that has happened was one big ass story wrapped in stories and overlapped with other stories. So Zachary literally comes in not even in the middle of the story, but at the very end that has been overdue for quite some time. This makes for a very interesting storyline as all the other storylines intertwine into eachother, it makes for an even more interesting read as our MC comes in only when the plot is at its end, tipping over the very edge.

(I also got the feeling that the entire book is almost told through the perspective of the story, if that makes any sense whatsoever. It's almost like the story, that is bound together like the most complicated twister game, is alive and is smiling over our characters smugly waiting for everything to run its course. Like an omnipresent god, that's at least the vibe I got reading the book. )

The world building

Now in my opinion the world building goes hand in hand with the writing in this book. Every detail I mentioned before builds the atmosphere and the base of all the world building in this book. The way the plot is written is written also contributes to the world building, as all the stories overlap and meet at the very end. The looping plot line is actually my number one favourite thing in the entire book.

There isn't that much to say except 'what the hell is going on?' in the best way possible, to the world building, because as confusing as it can be it's amazing to read and I think that it's one of my favourite aspects of the book.

The Characters

Now is time for the weakest part of the book, its characters, who even though I think are amazing, are definitely flatter than everything else in the book.

In my opinion most characters personalities I just can't pinpoint, and even though this personally doesn't take away from my enjoyment too much, I know a lot of people love well defined character personalities.

For some characters I can understand the constant change in character, like Mirabel, whose multiple lifetimes make it so it makes sense why her personalities overlap and make little sense. She constantly felt a bit inconsistent to me, but again I personally didn't think it ruined the book.

The most well developed personalities I could feel were Kat and the keeper, and at times Dorian. Zachary is a weird gray area for me, because even though I loved his character, I can't really tell who he is besides the son of the fortuneteller. I think that most of the character building was sacrificed to make the plot and the world feel alive. As I said before, it feels like the omnipresent god and the world is more developed than any of the characters personalities.

I usually love marking all 'character moments' where I feel like I can understand what kind of person the character is, their sense of humour, friendship, socializing, thinking and so on. But I found myself marking basically nothing of that kind in this book, just the beautiful descriptions of the world. The story was just more alive than the characters in it.

I liked all the romances even though they all lacked some depth, but the fairytale style writing of the romance definitely made them extremely enjoyable. If it weren't for the fairytale vibe all the romance would have been just flat, and I wouldn’t be invested at all.

The Conclusion

I wouldn't reccomend this book for everyone, as I think great many people wouldn't be fans of the writing, and so the lack of character depth wouldn't help either and there would be no good to outweigh the bad. I truly think this book is a perfect 4 starts but to me personally it is 5 stars. I am just such a big fan of the looping storyline, I still haven't gotten over that. To finish it all off here are a few extra quotes that I liked:

"No one takes responsibility. Everyone assumes someone else will do it, so no one does."

"It is critical to steep the tests in ignorance to result in uncorrupted responses."

"They all have similar elements, though. All stories do, no matter what form they take. Something was, and then something changed. Change is what a story is, after all."

#books #book review #the starless sea #erin morgenstern #book club #reading #bookblr #bookworm #quotes #goodreads

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dextersjournal · 4 years

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Death and Consequences

Thursday, 11 June 2020

My cousins’ grandmother passed away last week.

Given the nature of our relation, one might expect Ma Audrey to not have been very close to our family. On the contrary; she lived in the same building as my cousins, who live just across the park opposite my house. So she was like a second grandmother to me growing up. She would look after my cousins while their parents were at work, so when I would go visit in my youth, we were all in her care.

When I continued to visit my cousins as we got older, she wouldn’t be as present because we no longer needed a babysitter. Still, we (my brother and I) would always make a point of greeting her as we passed the stable-door at the back of her house.

Sadly, the visits became less frequent, due to our lives just generally becoming less busy, but also due to family politics, which I shan’t go into.

Guilt and Memories

My cousin sent me a message on WhatsApp on Thursday, 4 June, to let me know Ma Audrey had passed. I can’t remember what I was busy with, but I was out of the house. I responded with my sympathies when I found the time.

I acknowledged the sadness, but I didn’t feel particularly sad. People might put it down to shock, but I’m not sure that’s what it is. I didn’t like this. Ma Audrey deserves to be mourned, I felt.

I hadn’t seen Ma Audrey very often in recent years. We would usually see each other at family events at least, but those were few and far between as of late. The last time I saw her was Christmas 2019, where she remarked that she doesn’t really see our family anymore. The last time I was in her house was to store some of the desserts in her fridge.

The problem, I think, is that I don’t have many memories of Ma Audrey, not that I can think of offhand, anyway. Not that she or my interactions with her weren’t memorable, but I actually don’t remember much of that period in my life without prompting. To think I would spend so much time there. I feel awful about it.

That’s why I ultimately decided to attend the funeral. I was hesitant at first, given that it would be a gathering of people, but I decided that I would regret it if I didn’t. (Also, thankfully, the physical distancing went pretty well.) I wanted to hear others’ reflections, hoping it would prompt some residual memories. Thankfully, it did.

The Funeral

This was the first funeral I’d attended since my great-aunt Gwen passed away in 2005. I was 10. That was my first funeral where I was cognizant of the events (my paternal grandfather passed away when I was 3). Aunty Gwen’s funeral made me hyper-aware of mortality and I was so afraid of losing my biological grandmother for at least a year after that. Thankfully, my grandmother is alive and well having lived 15 more years, despite a heart problem for which he had successful surgery in 2012.

At the time of writing, South Africa is in Level 3 Lockdown, due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Places of worship have been given governmental permission to reopen, a decision I’ve been very critical of. But thankfully it meant we could host a funeral. Unlike a standard church service, it would be a more controlled environment as people had to stipulate beforehand whether they would be attending.

When I was told of Ma Audrey’s passing, I wasn’t sure that there would be a funeral. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there hadn’t been one, given the circumstances. If there hadn’t been a funeral, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it; given my worldview (read: atheism), I don’t think it’s necessary. Funerals are for the living, not for the dead.

But Ma Audrey was a Catholic woman. We used to go to the same church, back when I did go to church (more on that later). So it is fitting that she would be ‘sent off’ in that way.

At the door of the church, we had our temperatures taken, our hands sanitised, and we were asked via individual questions whether we had any COVID-19 symptoms. The casket was in the foyer; closed. I’d had a slight hope that it would be open so I could see her face in person one last time. (My eyes started welling up during that last sentence.)

The funeral was essentially a standard Catholic Mass, but with the priest testifying about Ma Audrey instead of the usual sermon, and a Wikipedia-esque eulogy read by my older cousin. I admittedly haven’t been to many funerals, but it felt a bit…impersonal. Almost cursory.

The Church

I’m going to go off on a slight tangent here. The funeral was the first time I stepped foot in my old church since Christmas 2008, almost 12 years ago. It was slightly smaller than I remember. Some things had changed; some things had stayed the same.

The PA speakers were the same set that I remember, but the mezzanine where the “Music Ministry” were usually stationed had been extended. No longer did they have an overhead projector; they now had a projector overhead.

The Stations of the Cross portraits detailing the Passion of Jesus were still in the same place. The Seven Sacraments were depicted high on the church walls behind the altar. My eyes traced the path form Jesus’ fingers turning into wheat stalks and then rejoining his body as my mind wandered away from the Bible readings much as it had done in my youth.

It was interesting that being in this building did not evoke any nostalgia. For people who only know me since I became a heathen, that might make sense, but I was actually very involved in the church; I was a reader and a singer in the aforementioned Music Ministry. My departure from the church actually had nothing to do with unbelief; that only came years later.

The Death

Ma Audrey had suffered from cancer. She had been diagnosed with bowel/rectal cancer years ago, but then eventually went into remission. She was later diagnosed with lymphoma as well.

My mother called my uncle, Ma Audrey’s son, on the day of her passing to give her condolences. According to him, Ma Audrey looked and seemed fine, but she requested to go to the hospice. He said she refused to continue to take her medication and that she had told him she wanted to die.

When I first heard this, I was glad. I was glad she died on her own terms. It felt like a boss move, like in S02E12 of Grace and Frankie. “Good for Audrey,” I’d said. My younger cousin, who was with her when she died, explained to me after the funeral that it had been more a case that she was tired of suffering and tired of having to rely on others just to live. Being given better context on the circumstances of her decision made it more heart breaking, but no less dignified.

She passed with her remaining child and youngest granddaughter by her side.

Suspension of Disbelief

After the gospel reading, the priest testified about how the church was Ma Audrey’s second home. She had been a part of the soup kitchen, and the Music Ministry at some point as well. She had been part of the committee that would volunteer to clean the church on Fridays for the weekend Masses. Even when she was unable to participate, she would still go to the church on Fridays for the company.

When my family would still attend church, we would offer Ma Audrey lifts. After we’d stopped going to church, we’d still see her making her way across the field on her way to Mass. Like when passing her stable door, we’d be sure to greet her, shouting and waving from our front porch. She was persistent in trying to get us to go back to church, even after my own (Anglican) grandmother had long given up.

Being away from church for so long, I no longer knew the hymns, nor the recitations or responses. From an outsider perspective, the ceremony seems very cult-y; people dressed in robes; mass recitations; ceremonial eating (even if you don’t consider the supposed transubstantiation, which is another story); and the additional pomp and circumstance of altar servicers carrying large candles and a wooded cross on a large stick.

I wasn’t sure whether or not to participate in the recitations. I decided not to, for the most part. Only at the end of the priest’s testimony where he blessed Ma Audrey (in spirit) and her casket, did I join in saying “Amen”.

But still – sitting, standing, kneeling in that church – the jaded, cynical atheist in me was at the forefront at the beginning of the procession, internally scoffing at the same rituals in which I once partook.

But during the priest’s testimony, I thought less of the church and more of what the church meant to Ma Audrey; I felt I should reserve my cynicism out of respect for her, not the church.

During one of the hymns, I decided to interpret the lyrics to be about her instead of God.

But you are always close to me Following all my ways May I be always close to you Following all your ways, Lord

Strange thing to do for someone who doesn’t believe in an afterlife, huh? The thing is, I know one of the purposes of religion is consolation. So no, when it comes down to it, I don’t believe Ma Audrey – or anyone – is up there or out there, but sometimes it’s nice to think that she is.

There was a moment, whilst the priest was blessing the casket, that I actually wished God existed – not the god of the Bible, but a god worthy of Audrey and her worship.

The Dénoument

After the funeral, my brother and I went over to speak to our cousins. It was here my younger cousin explained to me the afore-mentioned circumstances around her grandmother’s decision to die. This conversation only took a couple of minutes until it was interrupted by a flash of lightning then, a few seconds later, a mighty crack of thunder.

We all parted ways and, almost as soon as my brother and I got into his car, so began the hardest hail storm any one of us could remember. Almost like a fanfare from God Himself, if you believe in such things.

#deathandconsequences #death #dexicola #dextersjournal #ma audrey #death and consequences #mourning #funeral #religion #catholic #church #cancer

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romancingromanoff · 5 years

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What Happens At Disney Part 3/3

I know that all of the details aren’t completely accurate to the parks but please enjoy the final installment

Part 1 here//Part 2 here

The Disney workers were so glad that Tony and Bruce fixed the ride that they gave you all free fast passes and you got to skip the line. “You are all welcome. You’re welcome!” Tony was waving and loudly calling out to the crowds. You rolled your eyes at how he always felt the need to fuel his ego but decided against giving him another one of your talks since he had indeed fixed the ride.

The Seven Dwarfs Mine Train was a two person seater ride so naturally you pulled Nat up to the very front to sit next to you. Steve and Clint sat behind you followed by Bruce and Thor, who was very adamant about not letting the workers touch him when they went to pull down the safety bars. Tony got pushed to the back because, truthfully, no one wanted to sit next to him because he wouldn’t shut up about the fact that he had repaired the ride and everyone apparently “owed him,” but he just took it as an opportunity to fill up the entire car by himself. As you were all getting on they called to see if there were any single riders that could sit next to Tony, to which he protested saying that he could sue anyone that accidentally touched his suit, but changed his mind when the first single rider that raised their hand to volunteer turned out to be a very tall, slim, and tan blonde woman wearing super tight booty shorts and a thread of fabric around her chest that you guessed was supposed to be her shirt. “I’ll allow it,” he stated and the bubbly blonde giggled as she sat down and Tony put his arm around her shoulder.

It was a kid’s ride so there weren’t exactly drops big enough to make those butterflies in your stomach fly around at that zero-gravity-like feeling, but you still smiled and laughed as the carts twisted and turned up and down the little hills. Soon you rode into a cave filled with glowing gems and those weird animatronic animals that probably hadn’t been updated since Steve’s time. You all began to slow down as the various forest animals and dwarfs came to life with the music. The creepy glowing eyes of the deer weren’t easy to look over though. Nat made a sour face seeing how robotic they all moved, but you were having an absolute blast.

CLINK! A high pitched ring sounded throughout the cave, echoing off of the walls. It made the poor blonde girl that got put next to Tony almost jump out of her seat. If it weren’t for the safety bars she probably would’ve gone off the side.

“WHAT THE HELL, THOR?!” you screamed at him when you turned around and saw him smashing his hammer into the fake gems and diamonds that were encrusted into the walls.

“You said this was a mine! I’m just trying to get points any way that I can!” he retorted while Bruce had his hands in his head from the headache all of the noise was giving him.

“No, this isn’t that kind of ride, Thor. It is not interactive,” he looked disappointed as you explained it to him and he was silent for the rest of the ride, which was pretty uneventful (meaning that no more property was damaged) except for Clint teasing Steve with questions about what it was like to watch the movie when it first premiered.

After the ride you thought that it would be fun to go visit attractions that the rest of your friends would be interested in. For Clint you headed over to the Toy Story Midway Mania interactive ride where you got spun around a giant toy room and got to shoot various targets and plates. You knew that you were no match for his marksmanship skills, but had fun with the target practice anyway. It wasn’t hard to enjoy yourself when Clint was so into it. He was screaming at Woody, Buzz, and Jessie as they were trying to explain how to work the shooters. “Let us shoot already, damnit!” he yelled in frustration before going on to break all of the high scores.

Steve’s request for a ride was very simple and sweet, much like the person he was. The only thing he really wanted to do at Disney was go on the carousel so you headed back to the Magic Kingdom. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the other rides, but back in his time the only rollercoasters he got to ride were at Coney Island and were all made out of wood. He just didn’t really understand the concept of interactive rides or super scary thrill ones either. At the carousel you were glad to wind down the pace a little bit and go old school as you all got on your own horses and the ride stirred on with the classic amusement park music.

You had also snuck a bag of popcorn on with you and were going back and forth between throwing pieces up in the air at Thor, Steve, and Clint who tried to catch them in their mouths. It was a little difficult since you were all constantly moving up and down and at different levels, but in the end Clint ended up catching the most.

“Well gentlemen, it has been a pleasure,” he said upon the conclusion of the ride.

“Barton, you are lucky that most of the pieces simply ended up caught in my hair rather than my mouth,” Thor commented as he was picking those same pieces off from his head. “But on any other occasion, I would have bested you.”

“Sure, buddy,” Clint laughed.

You and Nat gave each other a meaningful look and you both laughed at how annoying the boys were being. “You know, I could make this thing go ten times faster if you just give me five minutes with it,” Tony pestered one of the workers trying to get him to let him touch the controls.

“Tony, please, not again,” Bruce moaned and pulled at his sleeve trying to get him away from the obviously intimidated cast members.

“C’mon! I could make it go in reverse too! At least let me change the lights and the music. It could be disco themed! Bruce, I know you love disco.”

“No disco, Tony.”

“YOU CAN’T KILL DISCO!”

“You already tricked out one ride which is enough for today, Handy Manny,” you kill his hopes of messing with anything else right then and there.

“IN THE NAME OF DISCO-”

“TONY, SHE SAID NO!”

“Hey, settle down,” Steve hushed the two squabbling scientist. “There’s a show going on.” In front of the carousel entrance where a fairly large but somewhat unnoticeable rock laid with what appeared to be the handle of a sword sticking out of it, a cast member in purple robes and a giant gray beard was twirling around and gathering all of the little children around him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, which one of you thinks that they are worthy enough to pull this sword out of its stone?” A little boy around the age of 6 wearing a Toy Story cap that looked like Rex the green dinosaur was just about to wrap his hands around the handle when he was suddenly pushed out of the way.

“I am worthy! I AM WORTHY!” Thor yelled which made a couple of babies in strollers automatically start crying. “Hah. Mortals watch and see how a god wields his weapon!”

“Dear Lord, not again,” Nat groaned.

“Hmmmmpffffff!” Thor began pulling but to no avail. “NO, I AM WORTHY,” he told himself and then tried shifting the sword back and forth to shimmy out.

“NO DON’T DO-” the wizard flinched.

“ARGHHH!” SLICE! You threw your head back seeing him break the sword in two right at the handle which almost made the poor wizard guy faint. Thor just stood their awkwardly with the tiny blunt little sword in his hand. “It’s fine I can just-” he tried jamming it back into the rock but was way too forceful so he ended up putting an even larger dent in what was left of it.

“Does anyone have some glue?” Tony casually yelled around while Bruce was trying to hide behind a dip n dots cart mumbling “I don’t know them,” and pretending to be completely oblivious to all of the scared screaming children that had just seen a part of their imagination torn apart.

“I can’t say that I’m not surprised,” Natasha mumbled with her head slightly cocked to one side as she studied the scene. “It could be a really good piece of modern art I guess.”

“Oh no,” Steve flinched in pain at those words. “Please, not again with the modern art,” he cringed just thinking about those strange, abstract sculptures of plain shapes or made of weird materials that people called art these days.

“Well, I need a beer,” Tony piped up trying to think of a solution to cure everyone’s sudden depression.

“Is there a tavern around here?” Thor questioned.

“Yeah, actually, there is a tavern,” you were surprised to remember that there did happen to be a place for them to drink around here. “I think you’ll like it, Thor. It’s very, er… manly.” You smiled only half-sarcastically as you thought back to the Disney villain that owned the place. He had been one of your favorites as a kid despite his tendency to boast about his buffness (which is why you believed you were able to tolerate Tony and Thor) and awfully misogynistic world view. But, that’s Disney for you.

Gaston’s Tavern was a very rustic looking place that sort of tried to be half hunting lodge and half shrine to its namesake Frenchman. Upon approaching an entrance, there was a Gaston actor leaned up against one of the windows and hitting on basically every mom that went in or out. God, it made you sick. It was like he was Tony but without any smarts whatsoever.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Bruce wondered at the sight of him flexing his completely-not-fake-and-made-of-padding biceps.

“Welcome, everyone! Don’t worry, you will all have the chance to meet me, Gaston: the strongest, most handsome, and brave man in all of town. You may applaud,” the airhead was motioning for people to clap and a couple of other employees (not dressed up) responded with some cheers as if to play along.

“You sure that’s not Tony?” Steve whispered to you under his breath which made you smile. You gave him a look and winked at him as if to say, “that was exactly what I was thinking” and rolled your eyes.

“So you claim to be the strongest man around here?” Thor stepped forward a little bit too menacingly with the seriousness of his voice which caused a couple of people around him to gasp just laying their eyes on the perfectly sculpted body of a god. Before it could go anymore out of hand you ran up to him and tried to get his attention.

“Nope, nuh uh, Thor, this is just a guy playing a character; he’s supposed to say those things but he doesn’t really mean them. C’mon, you will break this guy’s arm worse than that fake sword and everyone knows that, so it’s okay because you don’t have to prove anything.” The nervousness in your quivering voice could not have been worse as you saw Thor trying to measure up this poor dude with the fake biceps and wig.

“Character? Pffff,” Gaston played aloof to the danger in the form of a giant Scandinavian looking lumber jack that was right in front of him. “Gaston is the strongest man in town and he isn’t afraid to prove it.”

“Buddy, I’m trying to save your life,” you spit at him.

“How about an old fashioned arm wrestling match?” Natasha suggests and you lightly slap her for encouraging this awful testosterone measuring contest. Thor and Gaston, however, are immediately down for it though you can see the rules of arm-wrestling being a lot different on Asgard which may actually result in this guy’s arm being completely ripped off.

“HOWWWWWW about we let someone else go first, huh?” your voice cracks which makes Natasha smirk. “Weakest goes up against him first, you know? And then Thor is the championship match?”

“Hold on, are you saying that you think Thor is the strongest?” Tony rips of his sunglasses to look you straight in the eyes.

“This isn’t a contest guys; obviously I’m the strongest!” Bruce plays innocent and coy with his shoulders shrugged but you don’t take his hulking out joke too lightly.

“Not when you’re this color you’re not. You’re first,” you shove up towards Gaston who’s had a wooden table pulled out to the front of the tavern just for the occasion. Then Bruce gets a little sweaty realizing that he actually has to put on his best performance and goes to sit across from the smirking playboy villain who’s already got his right elbow up on the table. You can see all of the fake padding under his costume’s sleeve from where you are, but you still aren’t sure how much muscle this guy actually has on his own. He’s fairly broad and definitely looks like he’s the type to have always idolized body builders, yet you still aren’t sure if that means he has a definite win over Bruce.

“Alright gentlemen I want a fair match,” says Nat. “Elbows on the table at all times, and 3, 2, 1-”

It was a pretty evenly matched fight as both men’s fists seemed to keep a nice right angle for the first few moments and none of them had a visible advantage over the other. You could see Bruce’s veins in the side of his face which always made an appearance when he tried to Hulk out, but Gaston also had some pretty good form and was gritting his teeth together as they both tried to exert more and more force against the other. The it seemed like it was bobbling more towards Bruce’s direction and his focus completely shifted to Gaston himself who he showed his teeth like a primate and growled at with a deep Hulk-like rumble in the back of his throat. That must’ve been enough to intimidate the guy because he stumbled with his grip for a second and Bruce took the opportunity to ram his hand into the table and take the win.

“YES! YES! I AM VICTORIOUS!” he screamed going in for a chest bump with Thor who had been chanting Banner’s name the whole time. “What do you think about that, GASTON?!” he and Thor were backing him up into a corner which did not seem like a good idea.

“Gentlemen, please, if we could all just- okay, security!” his voice suddenly switched to that of a your typical New Jersey accent but in a slightly higher pitch as he called for help and all seven of you looked at one another before pushing your way through the crowds to get as far away as possible.

“You know running is just going to bring even more attention to us,” Natasha quipped but you didn’t care about being stealthy at the moment.

“Just go!” you pushed her forward. The last thing you wanted was to be banned from all Disney parks after your first time setting foot in one. Panicking with no ideas on how to cover your tracks, you desperately snapped your fingers together and all of a sudden a grey storm cloud appeared just above Gaston’s Tavern and poured down gallons of water over the immediate area of the crime scene, soaking all the workers and making them slip as you ran off rain-free.

Unfortunately, a little girl about 7 or 8 wearing the same Minnie Mouse ears as you had watched your little trick which left her mouth frozen wide open before she could have taken a bite of her dole whip. You laughed nervously and one shoulder came up to your ear as you played dumb, hoping that she wouldn’t remember any of what she just saw or would ever be taken seriously enough for adults to believe her. “Heh, uh, unpredictable Florida weather, right?” you offered but her expression remained the same.

“I’m sorry, but is she the child or are you?” Natasha grabbed your wrist and pulled you along behind her while she tried to forget that she just saw you trying to reason about your spontaneous weather-changing powers with a kid that probably still wet the bed. “Very smooth, y/l/n.”

“Don’t think I don’t have a cloud specially made for you, Romanoff,” she releases a huff and takes a double take when you stick out your tongue at her but then resumes pulling you along with an even tighter grip.

“Yup, my girlfriend is a complete child,” she mutters to herself.

“SO,” you put on a big wide smile as you turn to Tony and pretend like you didn’t hear her. “Tony, do you have anything you’d like to do that doesn’t involve tampering with Disney property?”

“Actually, yes, there is one guy I’d like to meet. Or, rather, have Banner meet.”

At first you were certain Tony planned to throw Bruce into the It’s A Small World Ride or try setting him up with one of the princesses, but his actual plan was surprisingly pleasant.

“FINALLY! Someone who gets it!” Bruce was over relieved and had threw up his hands.

“Well, yeah, it’s not easy being green, you know?” Kermit the Frog was out sitting on a bench just casually giving out life advice when Tony had ambushed the poor muppet talking all about how Bruce and him had a little green problem in common.

“No, no it isn’t. Thank you so much for saying that!”

“What are you doing?” Natasha leaned in to Tony who had pulled out his phone.

“Oh, I’m recording this for instagram.”

“I mean, first off it just blends into so many things. People always think I’m some sort of walking bush.”

“Wow, people always think I’m a giant tree!”

“What the heck is Tony doing?” you ask as Nat wraps her arm around your waist.

“He’s filming it for instagram,” you laugh before tugging at her shirt to seriously look her in the eyes. “Hey, it’s almost time for the fireworks show. You wanna go somewhere we can be alone?”

“After you,” she offers up her arm which you gladly take while you walk next to her with your head on her shoulder. Moments like these where you could act like a normal couple were what had you hanging onto life for so many years throughout all of the struggles. You had looked forward to, no, dreamed about having someone that loved you for years. And while your relationship with Natasha wasn’t normal as neither of you were normal people, you cherished sharing these simple moments with her.

Bribing the ride operator to stop the ferris wheel when you and Nat reached the very top was so unlike you, but definitely a great decision.

“Isn’t this a little bit unethical?” Natasha criticized your usual goody-two-shoes self. Pink, blue, and white fireworks began shooting off in the distant sky lighting up the cloudless view you had of the horizon and the stars coming into view.

“So are the things I want to do you,” you try to keep a serious face but can’t help but laugh at the raised eyebrow she gives you. Her magnetic pull brings you in closer and soon the fireworks going off are just background noise.

“I adore you,” she whispers just before your lips touch and the real fireworks start to go off, ending the perfect day at the most magical place on earth.

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