#I feel I should mention that I have never played the original red dead redemption and managed to avoid spoilers all this time

[tearlessrain]

LENNY NO

[arthurcxllahan]

TLDR; BE 18+ AND BE NICE. EVERYTHING ELSE IS NEGOTIABLE =D

First off, nothing mentioned here is set in stone. If the thread/narrative calls for it, we can bend the rules a little. I’m pretty chill!

✦ One rule I take seriously is the age of my RP partners. As this is a NSFW blog, RP partners should be eighteen or above.

✦ I was born in 1994.

FORMATTING AND WRITING STYLE

✦ I will use gifs from resources. You can find the original posts in my Resources page.

TAGGING AND TRIGGERS

✦ As a NSFW blog, I won’t be putting things under a read more unless requested by my thread partner.

✦ I tag adult NSFW material as USFW.

✦ I tag things as they come up as such: tw [trigger]. This does not mean the [trigger] is occurring in the thread. It might mean it is being explicitly discussed.

✦ I don’t have any triggers.

✦ Due to the themes of the Red Dead Redemption series, some triggers (eg. violence) are default.

STARTING A GAME OR VISITING MY INBOX

✦ If you want to play, drop me a line! I won’t bite.

✦ I prefer plotting but it’s not mandatory. But I find unplotted threads lose traction fast.

✦ If I forget something about our plot and I screw up, feel free to remind me of anything I’ve missed.

✦ Send memes! I love replying to them.

✦ I love AUs!

FINALLY

✦ Never ever think that I won’t want to play with you. If you’re cool with these rules, we should be all good!

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Angst

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 remember me by hupsoonheng Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  31082 Tags: Amnesia, Temporary Amnesia, Obliviation, Established Relationship, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Legilimency, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Reformed Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Gardens & Gardening, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, POV Harry Potter Summary:  On a chilly day in October, Draco kisses Harry goodbye before he goes on yet another dangerous, undercover mission with the Aurors. And then Harry doesn't come back. Only Draco believes that Harry isn't dead, and pours himself into finding his husband despite his friends' pleas to move on and grieve properly. What he finds at the end of that work, though, is not at all what he wanted. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass Rated:  Mature Words:  20730 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soul Bond, Red String of Fate, Heavy Angst, Terminal Illnesses, Major Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:  When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Every Breath You Take by hephaestiions Rated:  Mature Words:  19252 Tags: Major Character Death, Death (Harry Potter), Suicide, Child Death, Miscommunication, Angst, Angst and Tragedy Summary:  It starts and ends with Death. Scorpius was just caught in between. Like always. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Between Myth and Man by slytherco Rated:  Explicit Words:  16242 Tags: Veritaserum, Truth Serum, Mundane, London, Falling In Love, Lies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, This whole story is just Draco angsting really, Sexual Content, keeping secrets, Smoking, Bad Weather, References to Drugs, Making Out, One (1) Scared Little Sparrow, And also lots of texting Summary:  Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning. A story about the complexity of choices, repressed desires that come to the surface when we least expect them, and the utter hopelessness of truths built on a foundation of lies. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Boxes and a Scrapbook by dracogotgame Rated:  Mature Words:  30493 Tags: mention of divorce, flangst, Bill is a bro Summary:  One year after being accidentally bonded to each other, Harry and Draco are free to move on with their lives. But perhaps, what they needed was here all along. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Intertwined by bluefay Rated:  Explicit Words:  25086 Tags: Memory Loss, Memory Alteration, Accidental Bonding, Magic Gone Wrong, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor, Self-Harm, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Serious Injuries, But they're not very graphic so don't fret!, Self-Hatred, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Sort Of, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hate Sex, Childhood Trauma ,Flashbacks, St Mungo's Hospital, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Time, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  On May 3rd, 1998, Draco Malfoy wakes up with no memory of Voldemort, the war, or Harry Potter, his supposed boyfriend. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di Rated:  Explicit Words:  93189 Tags: H/D Fan Fair 2019, Secondary Theme: Travel Fair, Secondary Theme: Book Fair, Commercial Fisherman Draco Malfoy, Failed Writer Harry Potter, Depressed Harry Potter, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Muscular Draco Malfoy, Recluse Harry Potter, Angst, Smut, Drama & Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Wandless Magic, Boats and Ships, Finland (Country), Fishing, Redemption, School Reunion, Minor Draco Malfoy/Original Male Character(s), Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Suicidal Thoughts, Near Death Experiences, Magical Theory, POV Alternating Summary:  Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998's 15th reunion isn't welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 When I Put My Eyes On You by Zzzara Rated:  Explicit Words:  31160 Tags: Blindness, Blind Character, Blind Harry Potter, Disability, Physical Disability, Disabled Character, Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Love, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Dorks in Love, Friendship/Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Amortentia, Potions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotions, Emotional, Emotional Roller Coaster, Pining, Pining Harry Potter, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Romantic Friendship, Best Friends, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, POV Harry Potter, Patronus, Spells & Enchantments, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Jealousy, Jealous Harry Potter, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Spin the Bottle, Halloween, Party, Party Games, Mistletoe, Kissing, Surprise Kissing, Boys Kissing, Rough Kissing, Drunken Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Boys In Love, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, First Time, Explicit Sexual Content, Sex, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Emotional Sex, Awkward First Times, Sleeping Together, Literal Sleeping Together, Dancing, Showers, Masturbation in Shower, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Dreams, Fantasizing, Desire, Self-Esteem Issues, Substance Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Lights Camera Drarry 2020, Lights Camera Drarry, LCDrarry, LCD - Freeform, The Way he looks, film inspired, Self-Prompt, Healing Summary:  When a hero defeats a villain, there's supposed to be a happily-ever-after... but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there's more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore Rated:  Explicit Words:  65214 Tags: Post War, Rent Boy!Draco, Down-And-Out!Draco, Grimmauld Place, House magic, Portraits, First Times, Antagonism, Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Pining, Angst, UST, Kissing, Frotting, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Intergluteal Sex, Anal Sex, Homophobic Slurs And Attitudes, Internalised Homophobia, Derogatory Attitudes To Sex Workers, Some Mentions Of Sadistic Violence, Brief Thoughts Of Sexual Activity With A Sleeping Partner, Rough Sex, Brief Mention Of Harry With A Woman (Past Relationship), Mentions Of Dubious Consent In Connection With Sex Work, Community: hd_erised, Inexperienced Harry, Top Harry Potter, House Elves, Masturbation Summary:  Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Solder by Oakstone730 Rated:  Explicit Words:  34547 Tags: potion/alcohol addiction, Recovery, Nipple Play, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Angst, PiningUST, Reconciliation, LoveForgiveness, Cursebreaker!Draco, Artist!Harry Summary:  Seven years ago, Harry disappeared out of Draco and Scorpius's life without a trace after Harry's addictions destroyed his and Draco's marriage. Now, Harry’s back, and Draco wants to believe he’s changed. But Harry isn’t the only one haunted by the past. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Months, Eleven Days and Nine Hours by sassy_cissa Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  sassy_cissa Tags: H/D Food Fair 2018, Angst, Romance, Paroled Draco Malfoy, Rebuilding Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy/, Harry Potter Friendship, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Food Forager Draco Malfoy, Soup Kitchens, Happy Ending, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hungry Draco Malfoy Summary:  Broke and living in a one room hovel in Knockturn Alley, Draco hunts in rubbish bins for food. Nothing could be more humiliating, right? Unless you're Draco Malfoy... ❤️ Read on AO3

Texting You by ununquadius Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  6005 Tags: Major Character Death, text fic, draco is dead, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, or maybe hurt/no comfort, Everyday Life, Pets, Asexual Harry Potter, Indian Harry Potter, one penis drawing, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Loneliness, Drinking, Terminal Illnesses, blink and you missed them suicidal thoughts Summary:  After Draco's death, Harry can't let go so he keeps texting their private chat, updating him on his life and rambling about everything and anything until it almost feels like there's a possibility that, one day, a reply will come. Read on AO3

📜 Wake Up In The Night by p1013 Rated:  Explicit Words:  10483 Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Public Sex, Blow Jobs, Versatile Draco Malfoy, Versatile Harry Potter, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Facials, 69 (Sex Position), Coming Untouched, Love Confessions, Curses, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Drinking, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Draco Malfoy, Voyeurism, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Emotional Manipulation Summary:  In the days after the War ended, there were a great many things that were changed or changing, a great many things that somehow slipped beneath the notice of Ministry officials and healers from St. Mungo's and Aurors that were tasked with capturing fleeing Death Eaters. It was, after all, the end of the War, and much like war itself, the clean up was heartbreaking. Lives had been lost. The world as they knew it had been changed irrevocably. In the grand scheme of things, there were more important things to worry about than Draco Malfoy's sudden, inexplicable inability to feel love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Coated in Rust and Blood by crazyparakiss Rated:  Mature Words:  2429 Tags: Mpreg, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Angst, Violent Sex, Self-Hatred, Grief/Mourning, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  No one escapes the nightmares. That’s what his headshrinker tells Harry every time he tries to unpack the baggage he was handed from infancy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Here Without You by  gracerene Rated:  Explicit Words:  26869 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, War, Canon-Typical Violence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Background Het, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Epistolary, Love Letters, Dirty Letters, An Ode to Draco's Bum, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Implied Switching, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Explosions, Harry Potter & Parvati Patil Friendship, Loneliness, Denial, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  It's been seven years since the end of the Second Wizarding War with Voldemort, and a new Dark Lady has taken over in nearby Ireland. Harry feels compelled to volunteer to fight on the front lines, but war is never safe, and Harry has a lot—including his blissfully happy relationship with Draco—to lose. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Orion in the Sky by space_wingding Rated:  Explicit Words:  30709 Tags: Bookshop Owner Draco Malfoy, Coffee, Village life, Slow Burn, Pining, Denial, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Jigsaw Puzzles, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Fatal Curse, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Hospitalization, Death, Character Death, Unhappy Ending, St Mungo's Hospital, Grief, mentions of anal sex, Chronic or Terminal Illness, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Forgot to remember you by Andithiel Rated:  Mature Words:  1753 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Auror Partners, Magical Accidents, Memory Loss, Partial Memory Loss, Getting Together, DreamsPining, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Rated M for language, There's not any real stuff going on Summary:  Harry was hit with a spell that made him forget the week before he was hurt. Most of his memories have come back, but he has a niggling suspicion that he did something wrong. Why else would his Auror partner (and the object of his desires) go from friendly to hostile? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 On the Last Day by trishjames Rated:  Explicit Words:  53481 Tags: Mystery, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Unreliable Narrator, Drama, Dramatic Irony, Flashbacks, Non-Linear Flashbacks, Memory Loss, Horror Elements, Suicidal Ideation, Depression, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Occlumency as a Coping Mechanism, Panic Attacks, Discussion and Depiction of Mini Seizures, mention of overdoses, Revenge, Repression, Science, Neurology & Neuroscience, Neurological damage, Medicine, Potions, Original Characters - Freeform, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Somewhat Bond!Fic, Strong Friendships, Strong Women, Maternal love, Department of Mysteries, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), The Love Chamber, The Death Chamber, Death Potion, Amortentia, The Veil, Near Death Experiences, Souls, Major character death - Freeform, Death, forced drugging, Mind Control (Imperio), Murder, Vomit, Medical Procedures, Consent, Amoral Behaviour, Unethical Behaviour, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Possession, Ghost Sex, True Love Conquers All, ghost!harry, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Unspeakable/Scientist Hermione Granger, Unspeakable/Scientist Draco Malfoy, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Psst...angst with a happy ending.. Summary:  Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Poland | A Faint Glow of Hope by EvAEleanor Rated:  Mature Words:  6123 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Summer Solstice, Solstice, Curses, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Healer Hermione Granger, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, Angst, Flowers, Slavic mythology, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mythology References. Folklore, poland - Freeform, POV Draco Malfoy, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry Summary:  On Draco’s 25th birthday, somebody attempts to curse him, but Harry Potter jumps between them and is hit instead, with unexpected consequences. Potter is running out of time, and they both embark on a race against time to find the only cure that could save Harry. Little do they know they will need to face a myriad of magical creatures and their own feelings on the way. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Grounds for Divorce by Tepre Rated:  Explicit Words:  122217 Tags: Slow Burn, Pining, UST, Anal Sex, brief but all the same enthusiastic rimming, One (1) lemon tree, Accidental Bonding, And I mean like U! S! T!, Jealousy, Deals with Trauma, They both top at some point, ron is a good friend, Draco is a Good Cook, Dubious Consent due to the Accidental Bonding, The actual SLOWEST burn, Hurt/Comfort, Have I mentioned UST? Cannot overstate this it's like A LOT, First there's frottage, And then there's more sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, and just a lot of sex, sex on a bed, sex in the shower, sex on the floor, Sex on a settee, In other news they go to Egypt, Teddy is a Small Bean, There is one (1) cat, and one (1) happy ending Summary:  Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 At Evening's End by manixzen Rated:  Explicit Words:  31055 Tags: Pre-Relationship, Angst, Azkaban, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Slow Burn, Post-Hogwarts, Friendship, Past Child Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Auror Harry Potter, Inmate Draco Malfoy, Prison, Auror Ron Weasley Summary:  When the dementors are removed from Azkaban, a compromise has to be made for the prison to remain secure and wizard-kind to feel safe. Harry and Ron find themselves assigned to a rotation as guards during their first year as Junior Aurors as a part of the new system. Harry finds his values challenged in the harsh environment, but an unexpected friendship may carry him through this difficult year. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 all you ever did was wreck me by SailorChibi Rated:  Mature Words:  10807 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, draco has PTSD, Harry has PTSDN, ightmares, Animagus, Harry is an animagus, prison break - Freeform, Touch-Starved, affection starved, Fear of Death, fear of touch, touch repulsed, Trauma, Aftermath of Torture, harry doesn't want anyone else to die, harry is very angry at the world, Protective Harry, harry had to grow up too soon, Possessive Harry, harry wants to protect draco, house arrest, Ministry of Magic, ministry of magic has gone power hungry, Fear of Magic, draco is scared of magic, it's been used for too much evil, Draco Malfoy Feels, Sad Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Sharing a Bed, platonically sharing a bed, First Kiss, Hugging, Cuddling, Platonic Cuddling, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, death is scary, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Endingh, appyish ending, might be a little bittersweet, but it will be ok I swear Summary:  After the war, the Ministry decides to make a clean go of it and sentences all Death Eaters to death. After a year spent imprisoned beneath the Ministry, with his mother safely in France, his father dead and only the Aurors who hate him for "company", Draco is waiting for his time to die. Harry gets to him first. ❤️ Read on AO3

[concussed-to-pieces]

Whether It Works Out Or Not; Back In The Cage

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: High Honor!Arthur Morgan/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit T.

AN: Okay I promise I swear this is the last bonus chapter until I finish the game. I swear.

[Spoiler warning for the first four chapters of the game!]

Tag List: @huliabitch​ @cookiethewriter​ @pedrosbigdorkenergy​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @anonymouscosmos​ @culturalrebel​ @karmezii​ @teaofpeach​ @crookedmoonsaultpunk​ @wrestlingfae​ @zombiexbody​ @nelba​ @scribblenotes76​ @toxiicpop​ @mstgsmy​ @misty-possum​ @gallowsjoker​ @midnightbeauty35​ @lackofhonor​ @renegademustelid​

Part One: Strangers

Part Two: Friends

Part Three: More

Bonus One: A Brief Diversion

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For allusions to character death, mentions of previous abuse, historical inaccuracies and my poorly-remembered French. Stay safe!]

She felt a bit silly in her outfit.

Of course, she didn't need to display as such. "Tastefully understated," she had said to herself in the mirror with a firm nod. It was the fawn-brown dress (admittedly, it was the only dress she currently owned), but she had scraped together the funds for some light trimmings and alterations. A flounce of lace around the hem, a small length of lovely cream ribbon at the waist. The corset, while unwanted, would be expected, practically required in polite company, and even secondhand it was by far the most expensive piece of the puzzle. After that, everything else seemed to fall into place.

Irene Carson (née Craft) arrived at the ball astride Bluster, her hair crowned with a plethora of vanilla flowers and one single spider orchid. The buttermilk buckskin had been curried to within an inch of his life, and sported a matching cluster of vanilla flowers in his mane. He behaved remarkably well given all the hubbub, not putting up any fuss when he was taken from her to be stabled for the evening.

Irene had no elaborate hat to wear, no fantastical feathered monstrosity, so she had made do with what she could find. The flowers would be out of fashion, but they would suit her understated attire a bit better. Perhaps she could be fashionably unfashionable, ahead of the curve.

"I will not be on the list, but please tell Mayor Lemieux that it is the Widow Carson." She politely informed the man with the list at the gate, doing her best to seem calm and collected.

This was a bold move in the normally-subtle social maneuvering of Saint Denis. Attempting to integrate herself back into the gentry was a risky strategy, but a recent realization had convinced her of the necessity of such a move. 

Arthur had made an excellent point. That house had sat silent for long enough. It was time for her to take what spoils she could, time for her to think of the future. Hardly fair that she should escape her dismal marriage with nothing but the clothes on her back!

Tonight would be the first step, provided she could even get past the door. 

As luck would have it, the mayor himself, Henri Lemieux, came out to verify her claim. "Irene? My dear Mrs. Carson, is it really you?" He asked, all a-fluster. "Let me look at you my dear, let me just…" The man took her by the shoulders, examining her face. "It is you! Mon dieu, Irene, we all thought you had perished! Willie assured us-"

"I am certain he went to great lengths to convince you all of the legitimacy of my death." Irene interrupted him coolly. "However, it would appear that he greatly exaggerated."

"He said you...Irene, my dear, he claimed you committed suicide. He had me thoroughly convinced! But he remarried so quickly, I…" The mayor shook his head in a disapproving manner. "I know more individuals than I alone were skeptical! Oh it is so good to see you again, my dear. Please, you are more than welcome." He offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation. "How have you been, my cheré? Your hair is so short, so fashionable! I see you have been taking cues from our sister city of Paris, ne c'est pas?" 

"Naturellement, my dear sir." Irene replied, offering him a soft smile. "I know I will look somewhat out of place in your party. Please forgive my impropriety, but when the news of Willie's passing reached me...I so longed to see you all again, I could not stay away."

"Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for!" The mayor scolded her lightly, patting her arm. "You have returned from the dead, our very own Lazarus wreathed in flowers like a Belgian-crafted nymph! You are most welcome at our little fête, dear girl. I daresay, after whatever it was that you went through, you are quite justified in a night of revelry." His heavily-accented voice dipped to a conspiratorial tone, "and you must tell us all about your trials. I am certain you have a grand story indeed!"

"Thank you for your hospitality, my dear Mayor Lemieux. I pray that the road ahead of me is far kinder than the road I have traveled thus far."

…

And here Arthur had thought that them playing lawmen was as foolish as they could get. 

He couldn't even believe some of the stunts Dutch was willing to pull for the sake of networking or contacts. The bunch of them looked like damn circus animals in their tuxedos and white ties, and Bill in particular seemed aggressively uncomfortable. Just getting him to bathe had been a struggle. 

Arthur personally had been downright henpecked by Grimshaw and Tilly, the two of them doing their damnedest to tame his thick, unruly mane with a comb and the vestiges of some pomade. All the while Abigail alternated between telling him he would cause every woman at the ball to swoon and bemoaning his stubble. He had shaved yesterday, damn it, and he wasn't going to shave again!

Lord, they were all fools.

Hosea was the only one who seemed to be even remotely at ease, the elderly man already maneuvering his way to the balcony above the courtyard before Dutch had even managed to find Bronte so they could 'pay their respects'. Bill just followed Hosea like a lost puppy.

Arthur didn't have to understand Italian to know that Senor Bronte was insulting them right out the gate. Neither did Dutch, if the tense smile he gave Angelo while they conversed was any indication. 

Arthur was slightly entertained by the panic that flitted across the waiter's face when the larger man ended up catching his arm to use the match originally lit for Dutch's cigar. Never mind that Arthur had had to cut his own cigar with his damn teeth, he was used to doing that shit. Used to falling by the wayside in the gregarious presence of Dutch Van Der Linde. But he wasn't about to let this stuffed-shirt little cocktail carrier get away with ignoring him scot-free. An uncut cigar he could excuse, but an unlit one? That was sacrilege. 

The courtyard was teeming with people, illuminated by the soft glow from crisscrossing strands of fashionable Edison bulbs. There were so many ornate gowns, elaborate hats and stiff-necked suits, Arthur scarcely knew where to look. "Mingle, Arthur." Dutch ordered in an undertone, giving him a concealed shove from behind. "Steal nothing unless it's information."

Arthur sighed, straightened his white tie with the air of a man set before the gallows, and slowly descended into what reminded him of how educated folks would describe an active volcano. The courtyard was a maelstrom of activity, the dull roar punctuated by the mosquito-esque whine of a string quartet. God, what he would give to be out with Irene in the hills instead, listening to her play the fiddle for the wolves.

He shook his head at himself. Again with this nonsense, thinking about her every time he heard violin music. 

He gritted his teeth and approached a group of women, seizing a bottle of champagne off one of the tables as he went. Arthur Morgan was not a smart man, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that folk were more inclined to think charitably towards you if you brought them alcohol. 

"Ladies, might I offer you some champagne?" Arthur asked, knowing his speech was stilted at best as he tried to choke his drawl down. The trio of women seemed to buy it though, simpering and preening while calling him a gentleman. 

That was a lie, and Lord was it a bold one. Though, looking around at the so-called polite company, Arthur felt less like the villain that he was and more like a sheep that had wandered into a wolf's den. 

Maybe a nest of vipers would be more accurate. 

Either way, the large man wasn't used to feeling like prey. As he made his rounds slowly across the courtyard, complimenting outlandish hats and offering his input on the most recent theatre performances (which he had absolutely no clue about), Arthur experienced the distinct sensation of the noose tightening around his neck yet again. Saint Denis was far too civilized for the likes of the Van Der Linde gang. It was only a matter of time before they were rooted out, sent scampering into the night like the vermin they were or slaughtered without quarter.

Lord, this place made him long for the open country.

He bumped into Hosea and Dutch shortly after he had rescued a rail-thin man from choking to death on some peanuts, the two elders of the gang looking like they were plotting something.

"Figure anythin' out yet?" Arthur asked softly.

"Maybe, Arthur. You see that group of folks over by the fountain? That fellow with the tall top hat is the mayor himself." Dutch pointed the man out, gesturing with his cigar.

"So?" Arthur muttered. 

"So, my dear boy, ingratiating ourselves with the mayor's little band will no doubt do wonders for our credibility." 

"Dutch, if the mayor is already cozy in Bronte's pocket like we are, what's even the damn point?" Arthur queried, trying not to sound as sulky as he felt.

Dutch sighed heavily and Hosea quickly interjected, "it's not necessarily the mayor that's our target, Arthur. Rather, the group of people with him. We are attempting to make as many friends as we can, if you recall."

The large man nodded. "Shoah, I guess. You want me to mosey over and...what was the word? Ingrate myself?"

"Ingratiate Arthur, dear Lord." Dutch huffed.

"Right, yeah. Usual fake name?"

"Of course, my dear boy!" Hosea replied brightly, smiling and patting him on the back. "You may have some luck with the woman he has alongside him. From what I can gather, she's stolen the show a bit. The Widow Carson, back from the dead!" He chuckled, oblivious to the way Arthur froze. "Apparently she's returned to attempt to claim her deceased husband's money. Some nasty business, for certain."

"See if you can get into her good graces, Arthur. A wealthy benefactor could do the gang wonders." Dutch instructed absently, already back to scanning the crowds. 

"Her good--Dutch what the hell are you sayin'?!" Arthur hissed, his stomach knotting as a nasty sense of comprehension slowly dawned on him.

"Oh go on Arthur, just pour on the charm! I know you can do it." Hosea encouraged, misinterpreting the source of Arthur's discomfort. The older man gave him a gentle nudge and Arthur found himself sent on his way.

A wealthy benefactor. Was it Irene? Was Irene really here? More importantly, was Arthur shameless enough to accomplish what Dutch had requested of him?

A wealthy benefactor. His skin crawled and Arthur suddenly felt disgusting as he realized that, were it not for his suspicion that the Widow Carson was indeed Irene, he would not have any sort of particular qualms about being asked to do something like this.

Is it Irene? All he could see from his current position was Mayor Lemieux's top hat. He loitered beside a garish floral arrangement for a few moments, trying his best to get himself under control. He was Arthur Morgan, the enforcer of the Van Der Linde gang for fuck's sake! He had survived countless trials before this, surely he could manage speaking to a woman at a party!

Arthur growled under his breath, clenched his fists, and slowly approached the group by the fountain.

"-cheré, you must continue with your story! Ferdinand, stop interrupting, I beg of you!" The mayor was chiding one of the other men standing there, his voice luxuriantly heavy with a French accent. 

The other man, whose complexion was bright red (whether from drink or passion, Arthur could not yet discern), scoffed at the mayor. "Her tale is rife with inaccuracies, Henri! We knew Willie, he would never-"

"Unless you too visited him in his bedchambers, Ferdinand, I suggest you keep your observations to yourself."

Irene. Oh Lord, Irene, flowers woven into her hair like she was a damn forest spirit out of those old Greek tragedies. It was like time had stopped for Arthur as he took in every detail. God, he was startled all over again by just how much he had missed her. She was in that dress, the one she had worn in Valentine. But wonder of all wonders, she appeared to be fully-laced this evening. Arthur swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away from the shapely curve of her hips. The way her corset held and molded her body into something devastating, a weapon normally concealed from him by men's clothing…

Well, he was a red-blooded American. Unfortunately right now, he had to try his damnedest to temper that particular truth about his nature.

"It ain't complex, Lemieux, and only an idiot like you, buddy, would try to make it so!" Ferdinand continued over what Irene had been saying, sloshing the liquor in his glass dangerously close to that beautiful dress. Irene's brown eyes were fairly crackling with restrained fury, color high in her cheeks as she endured being near this loathsome character. She looked magnificent. Arthur wished he could kiss her, right then and there.

"I will not deny idiocy sir, but perhaps now is not the time." The mayor tried to settle Ferdinand down by placating him, however the outspoken man didn't seem to get the hint.

"Typical pansy!"

"You are drunk, Ferdinand." Lemieux stated disapprovingly.

"I'm not drunk, you fool...but this man! This man loves damsels-"

"Ferdinand, your behavior is becoming unseemly." Irene said through clenched teeth. Arthur had a nasty feeling that he knew exactly what Ferdinand had been about to say before Irene cut him off. "Not to mention utterly irrelevant to the topic at hand. Must you constantly inflict your heinous presence upon polite company?"

"Hey hey, you are pretty drunk." Arthur chose that moment to intervene, draping his arm nonchalantly around the belligerent man's shoulders and pinning Ferdinand's arm behind his back after a momentary adjustment. "What's say you and me cool off?" He 'suggested' cheerily, strong-arming the drunkenly-protesting Ferdinand off to the gazebo at the rear of the courtyard. Giving the man a rough shove, Arthur stated (much more rationally than he felt like being at the moment), "sit down and calm down. Count to a thousand. Then, you can rejoin the party."

...

"Thank you sir!" Henri said sincerely, shaking Arthur's hand upon his triumphant return sans one loudmouth. 

"My pleasure." The tawny-haired man replied with a boyish grin. Lord, if she had thought he looked dashing before-! Irene was tempted to feign a swoon. Arthur had clearly been blessed by a trip to the tailor, of that much she was certain. The black suit coat accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist in equal measure, leaving him imposingly proportionate in a way that was incredibly tasteful. She was sorely pressed to keep her eyes from wandering, realizing vaguely that Henri was introducing himself.

"Henri Lemieux. I hope you are enjoying my party?"

"The mayor!" Arthur said with an air of surprise, as if he had not known. Irene didn't buy it for a second. Though she was grateful for his timely arrival, she had to wonder why he was here. Did Arthur Morgan have friends in high places?

"Allegedly!" Henri replied with a modest chuckle. "And you are?" 

"Tacitus Killgore, at your service." Irene blinked. That was unexpected. What an elaborate fake name, but he said it so confidently! "This is quite a place you've got here." Arthur continued the conversation, his drawl a touch off. Like he was deliberately attempting to soften it.

"It's not mine, and the city is horribly in debt, but we still can put on a good show." Henri gestured after a moment to the man on his right. "Do you know Evelyn Miller, Monsieur Killgore?"

"My Lord. The writer?" Arthur appeared legitimately awed now, shaking Mr. Miller's hand. Irene could understand that awe, Miller was a revered and respected author amongst the folk in the untamed wilderness of the new States. She herself had been simply soaking up the man's educated palaver like a sponge until Henri urged her to begin sharing her trials.

"Ah, and of course! Our unexpected but most welcome guest, Madame the Widow Irene Carson." Henri introduced her with an elaborate flourish of his hand, making her laugh. "She has been regaling us with the exciting tale of her return to life! It is fascinating to hear."

"Enchanté, Mister Killgore." Irene said, smiling and offering Arthur a quick curtsy. Again, out of fashion, and a bit difficult with the added restriction of her corset, but the quaint gesture had always been preferable to a nod as far as she was concerned. If only that bath girl hadn't been so thorough in lacing her!

Arthur bowed, took her hand and touched it to his lips chastely. "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Carson." Her murmured, blue eyes boring into her own. Irene suddenly felt incredibly warm, despite her no-doubt constricted blood flow. "A return to life, you said? Have you been travelin' abroad then, ma'am?"

"Oh no sir, I'm afraid it's been nothing quite so delightful as that." Irene demurred. "Rather trying, in all honesty."

"Truly, it is a sordid affair. Her own husband, claiming she had perished!" Henri shook his head, looking appropriately distraught. "Ghastly. Then, Willie marrying that other woman so fast, and her turning out to be a murderer...well, it is like something from a cheap novel!"

"How awful that experience must have been for you, my lady." Arthur said softly. "Might I listen to the rest of the story, or are you weary of tellin' such a tale?"

"I'm afraid there is not overmuch left to tell, Mister Killg-"

"Please, ma'am, call me Tacitus." He insisted, his eyes bright with their secret joke. 

Irene couldn't help her smile in reply. "Of course, Tacitus. But as I was saying, there is not much to tell. I have spent most of my exile cowering in a cabin out in the mountains, shivering to death or roasting alive." She had tried so very hard to dumb down the tale, doing her best to make it seem like she was still the frail and fragile Mrs. Carson.

"It sounds like you have endured quite a bit of hardship, ma'am." Arthur's lips quirked upwards at the corner, his smile faint but still there. "It's a miracle you managed to survive! A delicate li'l thing like you, all alone out there in that dangerous wilderness." His voice dipped low enough to make her shiver. "Especially with such...reprehensible folk about these days."

Like me, his gaze seemed to say, the heat in that look reminding Irene of when he had kissed her at the stables.

"Exactly what I said, Monsieur Tacitus! Irene, you were so rash! I know that you believed you had no recourse, and I must apologize for my own complacency regarding Willie's abhorrent behavior, but surely there was another way!" The mayor scolded her.

"I am so very sorry, Henri. Next time I am kept prisoner in my own house, I'll be certain to send you a messenger pigeon." Irene retorted wryly, making Henri sputter as Arthur outright laughed. Ah, that laugh! She would have gladly borne her troubles in silence had she known such a delightful sound would someday grace her ears.

Irene was struck anew by the providence of her whole situation while she watched Arthur do his best to play at high society. She had not often been afforded the privilege to observe him, instead of the other way around. His blue eyes caught the amber light quite marvelously, his jaw shaded with stubborn stubble that gave him just the tiniest hint of wildness, of untamed danger. Enough to make him appealing to many of the women present. Irene wasn't sure if she should be flattered or concerned about the amount of time he was spending with the mayor and, by proxy, herself. 

She was growing increasingly lightheaded from the squeeze of her corset and was just about to ask Henri if she could impose upon his hospitality for a brief reprieve to adjust herself when abruptly, the butler approached to inform Mayor Lemieux that he had another phone call from the tycoon, Leviticus Cornwall. 

Henri waved the man off as fireworks began to erupt overhead. Irene, noting how Arthur watched the butler depart a touch more narrowly than one might in polite company, dared to place a hand on his arm. "Tacitus, my dear, you play your cards too openly." She whispered, her words making Arthur grimace. "May I ask you to escort me upstairs? I fear all this excitement has me feeling a bit short of breath."

…

"Tacitus-" Irene gasped his fake moniker at the top of the stairs, groping the wall for some kind of support. "I realize this is very forward of me, but I must beg for your assistance in loosening these damned--" She paused for air. "Lord, I fear I will swoon. This is so tight-"

"Okay, easy now." Arthur murmured, privately marveling at how large his hands looked on her cinched waist when he steadied her. "I gotcha', Irene. It's alright." 

She didn't appear to be exaggerating for his sake. The walk up the stairs had nearly done her in, it would seem. She was incredibly pale, and trembling slightly. He had assumed that she was just playing along for whatever reason, the two of them stalking the butler for fun or profit, but it was evident now that she had no such ulterior motives.

Arthur picked a door at random, immensely thankful that the room behind it was a parlour of sorts. Irene all but collapsed on the chaise, her fingers clumsy with the tiny buttons that ran the length of the front of her dress. Arthur rushed to assist after he made certain to lock the door, feeling a little frantic at the way Irene was wheezing for air.

"You're okay, you're okay, we'll get you loosened up." He tried to calm her (and himself), working on the next button in the line. "Front or back lacing, Irene?"

"Back." Her voice had gone pitchy. "I--she laced me very well."

"I know, shh, gimme' a minute." Arthur soothed, willing himself to relax. This wasn't any sort of terrible scenario, this was mundane compared to how his life usually was! How the hell was it that his hands were shaking more over getting a woman undressed than being shot at by the law?!

The two of them managed to peel the dress down over her shoulders far enough to let Arthur maneuver his hands in between her chemise and corset to loosen her laces. Slowly, carefully, he worked his way down, gradually slacking the binds. He didn't want to just undo the whole damn thing, that would leave her to endure the remainder of the party with her bosom unfettered and as appealing as that was to him, he knew that the gentry would tear her apart for it. 

"Any better?" He asked after a moment, relieved when she nodded. 

Then, "I didn't think you would actually help me." She admitted softly, holding her dress closed in the front. Arthur was stunned. "I assumed you were going to follow his retainer." Irene turned to look at him after a moment. "Why are you here, Arthur?"

Lord, he felt like a sinner on Judgement Day. Pinned by the weight of an angel's stare, all he could do was try to tell her the truth. "My...associates and I are...well, we need leads, Miss Irene. Senor Bronte, in exchange for our...services, cut us a deal for invitations to this ball. And uh, I suppose that's it." He said awkwardly. "I didn't expect you to be here, I figured you'd have headed for the Grizzlies by now."

Irene shrugged. "I thought long and hard about what you said during our last meeting. Me not taking everything that wasn't nailed down, that is." She squared her shoulders stiffly, trying to straighten her dress out. "I decided it was time to take back what's rightfully mine, propriety be damned."

Arthur put his hands on her shoulders, slipping the dress back down to reveal bare, freckled skin. He breathed her name, ducking his head to drop a kiss on the nape of her neck and feeling her shiver. His next words caught in his throat. How could he do something like that to her? 

A wealthy benefactor, Dutch had said, like it was an afterthought. Like she wasn't a person, but a resource. A tool.

Because that was all she would be to Dutch, Arthur realized grimly. A silly woman for them to string along, someone with deep pockets and a trusting heart. She wasn't Irene to Dutch or Hosea, she was the Widow Carson. A naive young widow, beautiful and lonely and (possibly) about to come into some significant money. The perfect target for a good old-fashioned seduction.

Lord, he had almost preferred feeling like prey earlier to this sudden cold understanding of how his companions (and even he himself, to a lesser degree) saw people like Irene. 

"You look beautiful tonight, Irene." He murmured instead. 

"Don't tease me, Arthur." Irene retorted sharply. "I am an utter mess. I look like a child playing dress up amongst all the immaculate gowns down there." She then sniffled, the noise almost too soft for him to hear. "I very nearly fainted dead away because I haven't worn one of these blasted things in almost a year! What kind of proper lady can't even endure the simplest of corsets?" 

"The kind that doesn't need one to turn every damn head in the room." Arthur said gruffly, a hand beneath her chin tilting her head back so he could see her face. Her brown eyes shone with frustrated tears. "You're beautiful, woman. Why the hell don't you believe it?"

"A majority of my marriage was punctuated by people who felt the need to inform me that I was attractive 'for my age', Arthur. I'm old, I'm nearly thirty. No man wants a wife that old. My father was hard-pressed to marry me off when I was twenty-four, can you even imagine what folk might say to a man who would court me in my thirties?" Irene shook her head despondently. "I...I don't know what I'm doing, Arthur." She confessed suddenly. "I am terrified. If I put effort into taking whatever might be left and it turns out to all be for naught, I don't know what I'll do!" Her hands twisted in her skirts. "I'll be back to where I was before." 

Arthur wasn't certain he understood what the issue was. She had seemed happy out in the wilderness. Hell, she had insisted upon her happiness. What had brought on this change, this desire for stability and financial security? He was thoroughly confused. "I don't know what to tell you, Irene." He said finally. 

"I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even brought it up." Irene apologized. "It's hardly your concern, Mister Tacitus." She tried to tease, daubing at her eyes with her sleeve and then starting to button her dress back up. "Just the worries of a silly woman whose age is catching up with her, I suppose."

Arthur caught her wrist to stop her, pressing a kiss to the inside of it like he had done so many times before. Her pulse tripped and hammered beneath his lips, galloping wildly. "Irene, you are beautiful." He sighed, his fingertips grazing her exposed collarbone when he palmed her shoulders from behind. "Everyone down there knows it. I know it. You could have your pick of fellers downstairs if that's what you're so worried about."

"It's such a fleeting thing, Arthur." She whispered. "When it is gone, if I cannot reclaim any of Willie's estate...I'll have nothing and no one."

Arthur wanted to die. He wanted to grab her shoulders and embrace her and say you'll have me, God damn it! But he knew he couldn't promise her that, as much as he wanted to. Hell, getting truly involved with him would no doubt cut her life short. That fear was what kept him from speaking, no matter how badly he wished to assure her. Even after the tender moments they had spent together in the wilds, now, when it would have made a difference, he was unable to offer any sort of meaningful comfort. 

Arthur closed his eyes, cursing himself roundly. "You don't mean that, Irene. The mayor seems-"

"Henri was perfectly willing to overlook my abuse when Willie was funding his campaign. All of them down there were complacent." Irene interjected, her tone one of barely-bridled fury. "Politicians and the elite are of no use to me, Arthur, for I am of no use to them."

Fair enough, Arthur mused. "So what are you gonna' do, then?"

"I'm going to try and bring my case to the attention of the courts. Willie was an only child, which is the sole reason I may still have a chance to receive something for my trouble." Irene's shoulders slumped and Arthur dug his fingers in, silently working out a few of the knots she seemed to have created in her muscles. 

"I hope it goes accordin' to plan for you, then." He said finally. 

"As do I." Irene took his hand, leading him around to the front of the chaise. "I have missed you, Arthur Morgan." She said simply. Sweet and honest. 

He was a fool.

Arthur felt like cheap gold leaf as he greedily buried his hands in her hair, sending one of the vanilla blossoms tumbling to the floor when he did. He felt like a veneer of class spread thin on his thieving bones, he felt like a liar. This vision of a woman, this divine being who trusted him so readily...

This time would be the last. It would have to be. If Dutch found him out, if his pre-established closeness to the Widow Carson was discovered, Arthur knew that Dutch would tell him to bleed her dry.

And Arthur, the kind, loyal man that he was, would do it. Because loyalty was everything.

…

Arthur was troubled. Even through her own worries, Irene could see that. She threaded her fingers through the shaggy locks at the nape of his neck, whispering his name. "What's wrong, Arthur?"

"I...I can't keep doin' this, Irene." He confessed, those blue eyes stormy with emotion. "I can't keep draggin' you down with me. You deserve so much more than a man who you don't really know, a man who's here an' gone again. It ain't right."

"I don't much care what I deserve, Arthur Morgan." Irene said tartly. "If you want me, I am here. You have yet to cause me harm in any of our endeavors, which is more than I can say for my prior partner." She tugged at the back of his neck, bringing their foreheads together. "If you want me, Arthur, I am here."

"Irene," he grated out, cupping her face, "I'm a bad man. I've done a whole heap of turrible things. I ain't the kind of man that you should be lettin' anywhere near you."

"And despite all of that, I'm beneath you on a chaise in the mayor's upstairs drawing room." Irene replied dryly. "Honestly Arthur, I thought you knew by now that my intuition is quite dreadful."

"Irene-" 

"You are remarkably poor at displaying any sort of reluctance, Mister Arthur." It felt like icy fingers were creeping their way down her spine. Had he finally decided that whatever they were, it wasn't worth his time? She could hardly blame him, of course! She was a currently-penniless widow. She had offered herself freely in the past; he owed her nothing, just as she owed him nothing.

"Because I ain't reluctant!" Arthur exclaimed. "I'm...Christ, Irene, I want this. I want you, so much that it hurts. But the life I lead ain't got a chance in it for a happy, fairytale endin' where I get to live out my days in peace. I have people I need to take care of, and you have a life of your own to finally start livin'." He stated firmly. "So for both our sakes, we can't...continue."

"At the very least," Irene begged, her thumbs stroking the familiar scar on his chin while she peppered his face with light pecks, "may we still be friends, Arthur?"

"Irene…" Arthur breathed, tilting his face to the side and kissing her until she was dizzy. "You've given me so damn much, woman. Given me hope, and beauty, and music. My friendship ain't worth spit compared to what you've done for me."

Irene shook her head, blinking back her tears. "I'm the one that ought to be saying that, Mister Arthur!" She protested. "I wish there was more I could do to repay the kindness you've shown me."

"Miss Irene, all the payment I ask for is that you go and live your life to the fullest extent. Take tenfold from that son of a bitch what he took from you." Arthur swept back some of the curls on her forehead, the gesture achingly tender. "Do that, and you'll be paid up, alright?" He murmured.

Irene took his hand and kissed his knuckles, feeling the pronounced lines of old abrasions on the skin when she did. "Don't give up, Arthur. There is someone out there who will be worth it to you." She told him, her voice trembling a bit as she struggled to get the words out. "Someone who will see you for how kind and loyal you are and instead of taking advantage of it, they'll cherish it. Guard you close to their heart like a jealous little secret." Her smile was tentative, "that's what I would do, anyway."

Arthur cursed under his breath, shoving his thigh gracelessly between her legs. "Irene." He said her name and it was an oath, a prayer. Whether for himself or for her, she couldn't say. 

"Yes, Arthur?" Irene replied softly. 

"If you hear about me in the future, if…" he hesitated, clearing his throat as he drew his index finger studiously down the side of her face. "If somethin' happens, don't pay it any mind, alright? Remember me just like this. All gussied up in this frippery, lookin' like the world's most uncomfortable trained bear." He tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. "Can you do that for me? Please?"

"As long as you remember me like I was in the wilds." Irene was pleased when he smiled. "All filthy, with twigs in my hair."

"The Irene of my dreams has always been the one from the wilderness." Arthur confessed quietly. "This is lovely, don't get me wrong." He continued, giving her skirts a playful tweak. "But you out in the forests, playin' your violin for the wolves an' howlin' at the moon...that's the Irene I think about." The man cleared his throat again after a moment, looking away. "Now, let's get you put to rights. Buttoned up and all that. I figure it'll be best if I go back first. Hopefully folk won't be too suspicious. Shit, I don't even know how long we been gone for." He swore, grumbling a little as he struggled to help her with the tiny buttons on her dress.

Irene giggled, feeling a bit hysterical. "Oh heavens, what they will think of me! My husband hardly cold in the ground and now I'm enjoying an absolutely scandalous rendezvous with a handsome stranger. I'll be the talk of Saint Denis for weeks!"

"Woman, if you don't quit your funnin'..." Arthur huffed, a wry grin pulling at his mouth seemingly in spite of himself. 

Irene rubbed her forehead against his own, smiling a bit wistfully. "Shall I ever see you again, Mister Arthur?"

"For your sake, I sure as hell hope not." Arthur replied bluntly. "Bad luck seems to follow the folks I hang around with."

…

He hadn't entirely lied. He did leave ahead of her. However, he didn't return to the party immediately. 

Instead, Arthur ducked into the study he had seen that butler enter when he and Irene were making their way up the stairs. A few minutes of pointed rummaging and a jimmied lock on the desk drawer later, Arthur Morgan (or rather, Tacitus Killgore) was the proud owner of various interesting, incriminating documentation. Leviticus Cornwall. Arthur barely resisted the urge to spit on command when he so much as thought the man's name. 

Footsteps passed by the door and he froze, pressing himself back against the bookcases until whoever it was had descended down the stairs. 

Hopefully, this information would please Dutch to the point where he would forget about Widow Carson. Arthur just wished that he could forget about Widow Carson. Irene. 

Maybe...maybe if she was still in the drawing room, he could explain. Maybe there was still time. It would be dangerous, of course, but she deserved the truth. She deserved to know why he couldn't promise her anything aside from a life of fear and misery. Shit, at the very least she deserved to know why he was cutting her loose!

Arthur left the study and retraced his steps to the drawing room, his heart in his throat and her name on the tip of his tongue. Irene--

But she was gone. 

The chaise was vacant, lonely in the cluttered room. Through the open French doors to the balcony, the sounds of the party below filtered in like something from another world. He stalled in the doorway for a moment, uncertain of what to do. An object on the floor by the chaise caught his attention and Arthur stepped forward. 

It was one of the vanilla flowers from her hair, the blossom sitting forlorn and abandoned next to the leg of the chaise. He scooped it up with all the care someone like him could muster, tenderly examining the fragile, bruised petals. Then, Arthur slipped it into the pocket of his suit coat.

Much, much later that evening (technically the next damn morning), when he was bedding down at Shady Belle, he delicately extracted the worn flower and proceeded to tuck it between two blank pages of his journal.

Irene, he wrote at the very bottom of the page, and then, in another life, if I was a better man, we could have been so happy together. Instead, I have to push you away to keep you -safe-.

What a fool I am.

The following page bore a loose, flowing sketch of her on the chaise, staring up at him while she clutched the front of her gown closed at her chest. The fierce look on her face that he had tried valiantly to capture on paper didn't hold a candle to the real thing. Irene Craft, he wrote, then scribbled out her name and instead put, -Politicians and the elite are of no use to me, Arthur, for I am of no use to them.-

Mayor Onry Lemieux's party.

Winter’s Cold: Part One

[lady-death-herself]

× [ Various Locations // Red Dead Redemption 2. ] × ↳ Explanation for my absence is beneath the cut.

TW: Mentions of abusive friendships, as well as mental health struggles.

…Hi. It’s been a significant amount of time since I last posted on this blog, and a significant amount of things have since happened, to really change which direction I was aiming to take lady-death-herself in; as well as doing quite the number on my mental health—and general desire to post anything on the web. Things have been fucked, y’all, and it’s taken me a hot minute to fully process it.

Honestly? I’ve attempted to make this post numerous times. I’ve tried and tried; and it’s always spiraled into a furious rant aimed at my abuser, who played a sizeable role in this account; his original characters being present in almost all of my posts. I don’t want this to be a rant; I want this to be closure—the start of a new chapter on a blog that I truly love, in a community that has introduced me to one of my favourite people in existence, and has provided me a lot of happiness.

I will be making a bigger effort to revive this blog, although things may be slow; because there’re a lot of things that I need to change; namely things about my OCs, and their lives, which were heavily tied into those of the person who I will not be posting about on this blog ever again. I’m aiming to create an updated character list for my bbys, and aim to post it ASAP! Unfortunately, things might drag a little in regards to that, because I don’t have access to my old laptop; which had a majority of the screenshots of my OCs; but I’m trying my best. ^w^  

And I’ve been trying my best for a long few months, at this point, but I do genuinely feel like I’m steadily getting back to a point of happiness—which is something I wouldn’t have been able to so boldly claim, a couple of months ago. Being mistreated and abused by someone you deem as your best friend; for months, prior to the friendship finally biting the dust; is something so incredibly fucking jarring. You blame yourself; could the friendship have lasted, if I’d done something differently? Should I have tried harder? Is this my fault? …I tried for months to ignore how miserable this man was making me; how miserable anyone who was directly connected to the situation at hand, was making me.

It was finding out that this bastard had been in the DMs of one of my closest friends, attempting to convince her that I was the abusive one, that really forced the final nail in the coffin of genuine hatred for this person. Bearing in mind, this was after numerous months of him being passive aggressive; downright abusive & toxic; or the final stage of his petty childishness—giving me the silent treatment, and sharing passive aggressive indirects about me on Facebook. He never approached me to talk about things; whether they were things prior to the situation that filled our friendship with lead, or things during that situation; but he always expected me to miraculously change, or do better, when I had no idea that he was irritated or uncomfortable or upset with something that I was doing.

It was always me who had to approach him; both to discuss things that other people had expressed might have pissed him off, as well as things that he had done that had made me uncomfortable; anxious; or downright afraid of him. Did he ever attempt to change? No. He just didn’t get into voice chats with me for a few weeks, and then would hop straight back on his bullshit; the second enough time had seemingly passed. There’re countless things this man did that made me feel inferior, but I’ve already slipped away from the path of not a rant post, and would rather not make this into something to rival my fanfics from 2016. 😂

Regardless; my final thought on the matter—I’m done with it. You might catch me making the occasional snide remark about this person; but otherwise, he’s just another bad memory; who I’m grateful is out of my life. Perhaps I needed to rant a little in a txt post; similar to how some people enjoy screaming in the middle of the forest, or at the shore of an ocean; just...get some of that anger and hatred out of my system—and then regain control of my life, kinda thing. 😊

Due to the nature of this situation; where my abuser has attempted to contact me, for no purpose besides picking a fight; I’ll be continuing to leave asks off—because I genuinely still feel unsafe on the accounts that he knows are mine. I’d rather progress this blog, and be back in a mentally stable state; after being low since before Christmas 2020, before potentially opening the gate that invites further harassment and abuse from someone I want nothing to do with. Hopefully, though, I’ll eventually feel safe enough to turn asks on; and be more accessible to those who are genuinely looking to interact with my blog and I.

Until I get things more in order for my OCs; consider almost everything that you’ve seen about my characters’ lives to be scrapped, because I’m genuinely planning to do an overhaul of almost every OC of mine who has been shown. I’d delete the screenshots; but that’s over 1k posts, and...nah, I ain’t doing that. 

For those of you who have read this far; thank you! 💛

And to the mutual blogs who remember me;  I hope you’re doing well, and I hope we can reconnect soon! 💛💛 

[tobiasbotte]

Okay, I've got a weird itch, and I'm wondering if my dear netizens can help me scratch it. This is a fic rec request post. Also kind of a praise post? Skip to the end to see the request, because I go off on a bit of a tangent.

I've been…really getting into The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi fanfics lately? Like, seriously, been doing a deep dive every since I finished the live action drama because holy shit that was something beautiful. And I gotta say, my favorite kinds of fics right now in this fandom are the full blown, novel length, ensemble cast ones. You know, the ones where all the right ones live, or even our favorite bad guys get redemption arcs, and almost everyone is paired off by the end. I'm a sucker for that shit. It's beautiful.

This does not negate the fact that the show (I'm working up the courage to read the actual novel that started this all - I've started, now I just need to take the plunge) is beautiful in its own right. I adore that WWX and LWJ got their happy ending. I also adore these fics.

I digress.

When I first dove into the fandom, I loved LWJ/WWX & LSZ interactions as a family. Then I fell down the WWX & JC reconciliation hell hole and I have not climbed back out, nor do I wish to! It’s amazing. But now, I've noticed that the fics that have Meng Yao|Gin Guangyao as the fulcrum are the most fascinating. Everything revolves around him, most of the time, and while I adore WWX as my favorite tortured soul and his epic pining romance with LWJ and his family dynamic with LSZ and JC, these giant fics with JGY at the center are like. Epic odysseys. It's amazing. 

And, you know, off topic of this post - which is supposed to be a cry for recs, please help - it really makes me want to write one, but first off, I know next to nothing about wuxia/xianxia style stories (though with the amount of media I've been consuming, and the cultural rabbit holes I've fallen down in on Google this past month alone, I daresay I could definitely make a good run at it), and second, just the whole psychological aspect of it for all of those characters - I pride myself on being able to read a room, especially with what I do for a living, but holy shit do these fics do a deep dive.

By the way, I speak of two specific fic authors who write the most epic JGY-fulcrum fics that I've seen so far: @mercyandmagic and @hamliet. If either of you guys see this, my respect to you as writers is through the roof. Seriously, it's mind boggling. The dissection of JGY's character, his desire for acceptance, his desperate will to live no matter what - it's beautiful. Not to mention the viewpoints of literally every other character in their fics?! And the head-hopping is amazing - not something I usually see. (Apparently this is common in Chinese fic writing, or so I’ve read somewhere? But it’s not disconcerting at all, at least not how these two do it. I kind of want to try that style...)

Lord, I don't even remember where I'm going with this. If any of my readers follow me on here, you know I'm mostly a Yu Yu Hakusho writer (let's forget the other secret account I had back in high school; I burned that, I believe). I write novella length stuff at best (of fan fiction. My original works are…massive, to say the least, which I'm proud of.). But I've never been in a fandom (and I'm in a lot of fandoms; my bookmark count on AO3 can attest to that holy shit I have a problem) that has produced such epic works that it has moved me to sway from my usual fic writing habits of safety, of topics that I'm familiar with. Seriously, I "know" wuxia/xianxia stuff now (I've been going back to my nerd roots lately and tearing through K- and C-dramas - with my mother, no less! - and absorbing a lot of cool shit. It's so fun.), but I don't know it, you know what I mean? I can explain to my mother the significance of joss sticks, paper money being burned for the dead, wedding red and mourning white, the wedding games people have to play to retrieve their spouses, cultivation culture, etc., but I'd never try to write about it because - let's face it! I'm scared. Which is funny. I'm not Japanese (I’m black/Filipino/white), but I actually grew up being fascinated by the culture thanks to my dad - our family's original weeb - and so I'm not too terrified to write fics about animes because, you know, I'm kind of familiar with it.

Chinese-based fics though? Alien to me. And it's not that I'm scared of offending anyone - I'm glad that the majority of fan culture that I have personally interacted with is nice. It's a shame that a lot of the nasty stuff gets the spotlight, gives fandom culture a bad rep, but I know that most of you guys - I'm speak of you readers/writers - are chill people who wanna vibe with the fandoms in peace.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I guess I'm just making excuses to not write MDZS fics by claiming that I don't want to contribute because I don't want to do the genre its in any injustice. The real reason I don't want to write it is because I don't think I'd be able to have a good grasp on the mental aspect of any of the characters! Weird. Writing fanfiction has never scared me before. I know it's because I'm comparing myself to these other awesome writers, not just the two I've listed, but all the writers of the amazing MDZS fics I've been reading, but who doesn’t compare themselves to someone else? It’s destructive. At least I’m aware of what I’m doing-

Holy shit this post is long I need to stop what was the point.

The point...

The point was - a request! So far, those are the only two writers I've come across who do those epic ensemble/fulcrum/happy ending for all/everyone is paired off fics in this fandom. Obviously I've barely made a dent in all the material that's out there, but I figured I'd save myself some time and ask if anyone in the MDZS fandom could recommend any other fics that do this.

Bonus points if it includes Qin Su/Wen Ning or Su She/Jin Zixun (like, seriously, I would have never in a million years expected to have liked the latter pairing, but when I've seen it logically laid out on how to rectify them, it fucking works?!). If not that, then my second favorite type of fics are the WWX & JC brotherly reconciliation fics with lots of gross sobbing. I adore the relationship between these two and I just want them to be a family again, please. There's a lot more of these works than the former, and I'm slowly working my way through them, but if you find some that I should absolutely read right now, lemme know.

[foxofthedesert]

A brief RedQueen take on Hades/Persephone

For @loudestdork in response to this incredible post.  It’s your fault I’m still up at 6 am.  

Also, I haven’t even proofread this, so please blame any errors or general crappiness in quality on either mental fatigue or sleepless mania.  :)  

Slowly Regina rises from her chilly onyx throne.  The flickering embers stirring back to life within her breast had compelled her to rise, and as they burst once more into flame, the line of silver candelabras begin to glow with an intensity that hurts her eyes. Darkness recedes as light suffuses the chamber, bathing her in warmth that steals her breath away.

Equal measures of excitement and dread war within soul, for within the hour she will leave this place for the surface.  

Eyes slipping shut, she conjures up an image to quell her fears – it is one she often draws upon whenever the tenacious, insidious claws of despair dig into her psyche during the interminable, desolate months of spring and summer.  Rich chestnut hair cascades in waves and curls over shapely shoulders and down a finely arched back.  Pale skin lacking scar or blemish, smooth to the touch like the silk produced by Minerva's loom and sweet as honey to the taste, bared to her greedy hands and eyes.  Sea green irises merry with youth and vitality and unbridled curiosity that will burn a brilliant amber when angered or aroused and fade into sickly blue while in the throes of anguish.  A frame to rival Diana; a visage more comely than Venus; and a smile and laugh even brighter than those of Apollo and Laetitia that alone is capable of banishing the perpetual gloom that drapes the realm of the dead in a curtain of despair; all belonging to the only person in all of existence that truly matters to Regina anymore.  

Soon, so very soon, a voice more beautiful than any of the nine Muses will caress her longing ears.  She recalls in vivid detail how it sounded upon the first such reunion.

“Oh!  How dreary you have allowed our home to become in my absence,” Ruby (for that is the chosen name of Regina’s beloved) had trilled, an effective chastisement delivered in tones so affectionate and gentle that even the Goddess of the Dead cannot summon a word to speak in her own defense.  “I shall spend a week at the very least removing cobwebs and dust, no to mention relocating all of the industrious little creatures that have taken up residence in the shadows. Really, love, why must you continually refuse to utilize the resources at your disposal?  Sydney is a splendid caretaker, if not an incorrigible gossip, and Maleficent a wise and capable counselor.  How many times must I come back home to an unfit abode before you take my suggestions to heart?  Honestly, your continued stubbornness on this issue is most disappointing!”

“Bah!  Due caution would appear as stubbornness to your disgustingly naive notion that redemption is possible for those whose misdeeds are as numerous and grievous as mine,” Regina had replied, nose curling in rebellious distaste at any suggestion she be so lazy – or efficient depending upon perspectives not her own clearly superior one – delegate the tasks laid upon her by laws more ancient than her fellow deities or the beastly titans who birthed them.  

Oh how Ruby had bristled at that well-aimed dart. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.  Nor is your conclusion.  I do not believe it is naive to hope for those who have made mistakes so long as they are capable of remorse.  I would not be here otherwise.”

“Perhaps that is your great error.  You have blinded yourself with optimism to the truth that I am indeed beyond hope and have doomed yourself to an eternity of sorrow by consequence.”

Regina knows how best to hurt with her words.  The skill is, according to her peers, the one most responsible for her being an outcast.  Her sister had offered an olive branch after their cataclysmic war, but she had refused it in a caustic speech that is recited in worshipful devotion by her Terran acolytes to this day.  

Words are a weapon to be used with precision, their mother had taught them as youths just blooming into their cosmic powers, for they are every bit as devastating as fire or lightning.

When she was banished from Olympos and cast into Dīs upon a searing bolt a lightning, Regina was robbed of her fire.  But they could not take her words, and she has used them ever since in both condemnation and reward to pass judgment upon those who arrive upon her shores.  That Ruby is too commonly a target for her verbal pila is a stain upon her conscience that irritates her far more than it should considering who she is and what she has done.  

Life would be much simpler the six months per annum they are together if she could learn to hold her barbed tongue in check, but Regina has never been one for simple.  And so they are often at odds over the banal.  They will quarrel over contentious adjudications. They will spend hours in mutually stubborn silence while offended or emotionally injured. They will disagree on meals, spar over Olympian philosophy and art and politics, and speak to one another in outbursts of raw angry passion wielding razor sharp phrases which leave wounds so deep as to be nearly visible.  

But there is also love between them.  Immeasurable love.  Love that time and distance cannot erase when they are forced apart for half the year.  Love that is blind to faults and annoyances, that weathers storms of rage and frustration and misunderstanding, and that forgives trespasses and inspires self-improvement however glacially incremental.  A love that twines their immortal essences together so tightly that they share a dreamscape while sleeping, and that they have no use for repose is of no consequence when the aching of loneliness or separation becomes unbearable. 

It is that boundless, magical, incomprehensible love which revived Regina’s moribund heart and made her start to care again.  For that reason she is grateful beyond description on most days and on her worst regretful she ever laid eyes upon the gorgeous creature who single-handedly turned her entire world upside down.

“If I am blind to love you, then may I never see again,” Ruby had said, those enchanting eyes glimmering so brightly in the faint light that the individual strands of her irises were visible. “And if this is to be my doom as you say, then I accept it with open arms, for it shall be one of bountiful joy. The only sorrow for me will come when we are again forced to part.  I spent the past six months yearning for you just as I shall the next six when our bell proclaims the arrival of spring.”

“Well, if not blind then you are certainly foolish,” Regina said, throat choked with so much feeling that she felt as though she might suffocate.

Ruby had merely smiled in that way only she could, playful and loving and sincere all at once.  “I am guilty as charged of being a fool, my Queen.  Your fool.”

Unable to help herself, Regina felt her lips curl up at the edges.  “Well, we cannot all be perfect.  Not even the celebrated daughter of Ceres Eugenia, it appears.” So as to change the reverse of their conversation back toward less emotionally distressful directions, she had cleared her throat and then returned to the original topic. “As for your so-called suggestion: it is, quite frankly, absurd. One of the two miserable wretches you mentioned earlier is a driveling sycophant while the other is a maudlin dragoness whose fits of fire-breathing mania lead me question my decision to retain her.  No doubt they both would abuse such positions to undermine my authority.  Prudence would dictate that I should cast them both into Tartarus and be done with their annoyances!”  

Ruby’s gasp of affront was so dramatic that it echoed through the cavernous chamber and caused the nearest candle flames to flicker.  

“Morta Plutonia Regina!  One of these days I will finally teach you how to be nice to those in your charge, especially those who would call you their friend.”

Regina winced as she always does at her given name and returned the favor in kind with as much snark as she possibly could.

“I need no friends, Proserpina Libera,” she said.  “I have the dead to keep me company.”

The story of their first meeting, and incidentally how Proserpina Libera became Ruby, then begins to play through Regina’s mind.  Before long, she becomes so lost in the memory that time ceases to have any meaning whatsoever.

Her musings last until a ghostly bell rings in the distance.  She emerges from wistful recollection to mournful chiming accompanied by plaintive voices singing an announcement that summer has ended and autumn has begun.  

Once, there was no bell to quarterly drone and chant in languid harmony with the turning of seasons.  Once, she was painfully alone amongst a swelling sea of souls thrust cruelly into her charge.  Once, she was content to nurse her hatred of her elder sibling and ruler of Olympos whose envious betrayal resulted in Regina’s current circumstance, and she had bent that hatred and bitterness toward piling ever-more layers of jagged ice upon the impenetrable fortress that was her irreparably damaged heart.  Once, there had been no evidence of life at all in this place that she called home save the frost of her breath and tortured moaning of the damned that plagued her every waking hour. Once, she had believed herself incapable of love and took great comfort in that belief.

But that was before her beloved rosa rubra strolled through the forest she was traversing in secret, and left upon every inch of earth those bare feet trod over a carpet of lush red roses.

The surface back then felt much further away, too far for Regina’s overtaxed attention to be concerned with happenings above yet too near to ever escape hope of being freed from her endless confinement.  The only reason she kept up with current events was to better evaluate the lives of those she was constrained by unbreakable law to judge.  One day she learned of a scandal detailing how her sister had become impregnated by a mortal man through spurious means and birthed a daughter who was a gifted huntress that won the heart of a princess. Knowing that her unforgivably wicked sibling Zelena would be unable to resist interfering, she arranged a brief excursion to terra firma. It had taken countless hours of planning and work, but she had managed to slip through an isolated section of the great Gates of Dīs while Cerberus was distracted (the brutish if not mildly adorable mongrel had still been hopelessly under the thrall of her sister, an enchantment that Ruby was blessedly able to break) and emerge in the land of the living for the first time in millennia.

At first Regina had been unable to do much more than marvel at the scenery.  For thousands of years she had been trapped in a world of darkness that smelled and sounded and felt like death.  But the world above was teeming with life, even the air smelled as though it were animate, and the overload of so much sensory input had nearly paralyzed her. Once she recovered, she began picking her way through the forest by foot as using her powers to travel would have alerted the Olympians that she was no longer present at her station.

About halfway through the journey, she was stopped cold by the sound of singing. That angelic verse was carried upon the wings of a gentle breeze straight through the mountainous walls of ice surrounding her heart. In moments so swift she was helpless to react, she physically felt her defenses shatter and her resolve to remain aloof from all emotion crumble.  A single verse of that song had accomplished what the assembled armies of Olympos could not upon the bloody plains of Thessaly, a verse that she would eventually decree be recited each year by siren spirits upon the autumnal equinox.  She was so mesmerized by the soft melodic quality of the singer’s voice that she would not know the rest of the song until Ruby performed it much later.

Recklessly, like a starving lion desperately trailing its only hope for survival, Regina followed the song to the edge of a tiny clearing.  And then Regina saw her.  In the midst, haloed by Apollo’s rays, she danced and sang as birds joined in with the melody and branches swayed hypnotically to the rhythm.  Clad in a flowing crimson-trimmed dress, draped by a lavish red cloak, crowned by a wreath of fresh flowers with roses crawling up her bare arms; her expression open in untold wonderment, cheeks ruddy with the exhilaration of living; she was – and still is – the very epitome of beauty, and grace, and charm, and hope, and joy.  Save for the wedding night, no sight before or since has ever rivaled that first glimpse of embodied perfection.

A deafening rumble shakes the cavernous hall as the earth above lazily yawns as if arising from a seasonal slumber, snatching Regina’s focus away from that first fateful meeting.  From above, rubble rains down as mote and stone, and the prevailing sunlight filtering through the haze casts a diluted shadow across the hall.

She turns her eyes up, squinting to mitigate the intense pain of photo-sensitivity, and watches impassively as the detritus begins to mold itself into a great spiral staircase.  One by one the steps arrange themselves, each uniform in shape and perfectly spaced out as she had commanded centuries ago via laborious incantation, until they have spanned from polished obsidian floors to vaulted granite ceiling.  

With measured steps she ascends the newly formed stairway, her raven-down cloak billowing behind her.  She holds her head high, proud and regale, as she ascends.  Eager anticipation has caused her heart to thunder and her limbs to buzz with energy, but she is still a Queen.  Always a Queen.

The afternoon sun hangs low on the horizon, her cousin having turned his attentions elsewhere in the world, and the air is crisp and clean.  Death has yet to arrive in earnest, the foliage of the forest remains mostly verdant, but Regina can feel it approaching from every angle, a stooping, skulking specter whose insatiable hunger is gnawing to the point of agony.  For a split second she falters, inundated by the cloying scent of nascent decay which beckons her to turn heel and descend into the realm where such monsters as herself belong.

And then she hears it, the introductory lines of a new song written solely for her:

My love, my love, to thee I call;

My love, the fairest of them all

With raven’s hair and silken skin.

I come at last to thee again!

As if an insect brushed away from one’s collar, death recedes into the back of her consciousness so that life can inhabit the space it has abandoned.  Life that reverently whispers her name into the crook of her neck and the flesh of her shoulder, that holds her hand and brushes away the tears that began to fall again after infusing her with vitality she had never before experienced, and that loves her beyond any logical explanation and refuses to ever give up on her. Life that has a name, Ruby, and is currently waiting for her in meadow they both hold so dear.

Squaring her shoulders, Regina strides forward with renewed strength.  She has a reunion to attend that she has been awaiting for six very long months.  Until Ruby points it out, she will not even realize she is smiling.  

[athenadcvell]

Hi cutie pie!! Can i request something where Bucky returns the infinity stones with Steve, just because he wants see his 40s sweetheart, the girl he promise that when he returns from the war they gonna get married, and now he can see her again he take the opportunity and marry her and have a dream family he always wants and dreams, obviously Steve and Peggy are part of the reader and Bucky life.

@thisisntmyrightera I am so sorry it took so long! I meant to get it done before school started, and then I got busy, and as soon as school started I couldn’t find the time to sit down and write. However, while pulling some all nighters, I managed to find time to fit in writing your requested fanfic as well! Hope it meets your expectations!

Word Count: 2,329

Warnings: None, just fluff tbh. Not even much angst (surprise surprise)

A/N: I’m not gonna lie, this was some pretty new ground for me. I’ve never actually completed a reader insert (I prefer OC’s, lmao) but this was a lot of fun! Enjoy!

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! LOOK HERE FOR WHAT YOU CAN SUBMIT!

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It was an average day. Nothing special. The funeral was over. Families had reunited. Even schools had begun the process of reopening. However, for a certain group of heroes, today meant everything. 

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Bruce were gathered in the woods, far from civilization, ready to begin the process of returning the stones. 

"Steve," Bucky pulled Steve aside as Bruce and Sam worked on getting the machine to start up. "I know what you're trying to do."

"What do you mean?" Steve attempted to play dumb, but he knew. It was near impossible for the two to lie to each other. Bucky raised a brow, his eyes darting to the machine. 

"Steve," He said quietly, so Sam nor Bruce had to hear. "We both know you have no intention of coming back home."

"How-"

"As soon as you grabbed the stones, I knew," Bucky smiled sadly. "I'm not going to try to talk you out of it. Not this time."

A relieved smile stretched across Steve's lips. Permission from Bucky. Permission to go back and be with the woman he loved, without having to feel guilt about it. 

"But, I do have one condition," Bucky's smile dropped, suddenly very serious. Steve crossed his arms, nodding. 

"Of course. What is it?"

"Take me with you," Steve was silent at his best friend's words, not fully registering them. 

"Back to the 40's?" Steve raised a brow, just to clarify. Bucky's nod told him all he needed to know. "Buck…"

"I know what you're going to say," Bucky held up a hand, before Steve could object. "But Steve, you weren't the only one to someone behind."

Steve frowned, not quite understanding where Bucky was going with this. Until it hit him. 

Y/N. 

Y/N Y/L/N. 

The girl he had been in love with, that he had proposed to all those years ago. She had been a friend of Steve and Bucky, sharing the same art class at school. Of course, Bucky had never been too talented of an artist, but Y/N and Steve had bonded over it. Being friends with Steve immediately lead to friends with Bucky, and one thing lead to another. Next thing Bucky and Y/N knew, they were head over heels in love. It was a fairytale. 

Until it wasn't. 

Steve had sought her out when he had come out of the ice, along with all his other friends from his time. It had saddened him to find she had died in a car crash with a friend  fifteen years after he went into the ice and Bucky 'died'. 

Steve knew he should have said no. It was the responsible thing to do. 

But he was done being the responsible one. He spent almost sixteen years being the responsible and courageous leader. And where did that get him?

Banished from his own country. Losing one of his closest friends. Watching the love of his life die. Bearing witness to his two best friends turning to dust. Spending five years in a broken world, and in the end, when everything was fixed, the greatest man he knew died right in front of him. Going back to Peggy… that's Steve's redemption. That's his happy ending. Is it smart to leave right now? Maybe not. But Steve didn't want to use his brain right now. He wanted to use his heart.

So why shouldn't he let Bucky have that happiness as well? Sure, Bucky may be a bit different now. But in the end, he's still Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes, who has a quick mouth and kind heart. And Y/N… she would never turn him away. She loved him far too much. 

"Okay," Steve said quietly, nodding. Bucky's brows shot up. He honestly thought it would require more of a fight. There goes the whole argument he had planned. "Go get a suit from Bruce. I could use the help, anyway."

****

"That was hell," Bucky murmured under his breath as the Paym Particles bring the pair to their last destination: Brooklyn, 1940. Every single stone has been returned to its original timeline. Everything has returned back to the way it's supposed to be, and each timeline had fallen back into place. 

"Tell me about it," Steve agreed, running a hand through his blonde locks. "Why didn't anybody tell us Red Skull was the stone keeper?"

"They didn't know?"

"The guy was in every history book in every classroom. How do you 'not know'?" Steve rolled his eyes. Bucky laughed at his friend's antics, however, it quieted down as he realized where they were. Peggy Carter's home in Brooklyn. 

Steve looked up for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. This is it. The moment he's waited for for far too long. The dance he promised the girl of his dreams all those years ago. Inside that house, waits that very girl. 

"Go ahead, punk," Bucky grinned, nudging Steve gently. "Go be with her. Give her that dance."

Steve looked back, shocking Bucky with tears brimming his waterline. 

"You'll be alright?" The blonde asked softly. "Going to Y/N by yourself? You remember the way?" Bucky chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. 

"Steve, I used to sneak out almost every night as a kid to go and meet her at her apartment," Bucky smirked. "I remember the way just fine."

And it was true. He did. After bidding farewell to Steve, and promising to meet up with him later, Bucky began his adventure to Y/N's house, which was not all too far away from Peggy's.

The former assassin doesn't ever remember being this nervous for… well, anything. While returning the stones, Bucky thought maybe he should see his family first. His sisters, and mother, and father. However, seeing Y/N overpowered everything. He would reunite with his family later. Right now, he wanted to be with the girl he loved.

She thinks he's dead. It's only been a few weeks, after all. A few weeks since the news came out- James Buchanan Barnes, the Howling Commando to give his life during duty. Y/N, and all his friends and family, are currently mourning. Perhaps they've already attended the funeral, burying an empty casket. What will she think when she sees him? Will she be angry? Happy? Horrified?

Bucky's was different. He knew he was different. Seventy years of torture changed a man, after all. Would she still love him? His broken self? Would she still love him knowing the things he was forced to do?

It made Bucky's stomach uneasy to think of it. It made him want to take the last bits of the Pym particles and zap himself back to the future, back to Sam and a world that hated him. It seemed easier than the thought of rejection from the most important person to him. 

But his mother didn't raise a coward. 

Eventually, Bucky got there. He got to her apartment building, and walked up the flight of stairs, right in front of her door. It was easy to find. The door with the horribly painted flower pot, the homemade gift he had given her for her twenty-second birthday. Steve had tried to teach him how to paint it, to make it more 'thoughtful'. However, Bucky was never very artistic, unlike his fiance and best friend. It didn't keep Y/N from loving and cherishing the gift. It was still there, with small flowers peeking out of the soil. 

"Okay," Bucky let out a breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You can do this Buck. Just knock."

So he did. 

It seemed like an eternity until he heard a response. 

"Just a minute!" That voice. God, that sweet, melodic voice. How he's missed her voice, missed her giggles and shrieks of laughter. It made his heart yearn for Y/N to open the door, to stand there and realize her fiance was back. 

As soon as the door creaked open, Bucky couldn't help the tears from flowing over his ocean eyes. There she stood, in all her beauty. She wasn't wearing anything special. A simple, pale blue dress, not a bit of make-up, and her H/C locks piled into a ponytail at the top of her head. 

But to him? It was like looking at a goddess, and it made his heart overwhelmed with feelings. 

"Can I help you?" She asked sweetly, pursing her lips. Of course she wouldn't recognize him. 

The beard, the hair, and the stress lines indented into his skin. Not to mention the clouds covering his once bright blue eyes… Bucky looked completely different. 

"Y-Y/N," Bucky cleared his throat, his voice still cracking from the tears. He doesn't have to say anything more, as her E/C eyes widen in realization. 

Bucky expected her to be angry. He expected her to scream, and yell, and hit him in rage. In rage over the fact that he had not come home all this time, when he was alive. 

Or he expected shock. For Y/N to freeze in her spot, and shake her head. To be terrified that her very dead fiance was standing in front of her, aged and broken. 

What she did instead shocked him. 

"Buck," Y/N whispered in a small voice. Bucky had to strain to hear her. Her face crumbled into tears as she cupped his cheek gently, her thumb stroking his face. Bucky melted into it, grasping her arm to keep her from moving it. "You're home."

And he was. Years, no, decades, he spent under Hydra's rule. Almost a century of torture and murder, an uncountable amount of blood on his hands. But here? Here, in Brooklyn, the love of his life caressing him? That was home. That would always be home. 

"I'm home," Bucky nodded in confirmation, lips trembling. He doesn't want to make any sudden movements. Not yet. She needed to process all this. 

Y/N took a slow step forward, lowering her hand to grasp his. That was when she felt the hardness under his right hand. 

Bucky didn't stop her from prying off the glove, but his heart beat at an unhealthy pace as she did. He waited for the flinch, and look of horror. The one that always was there when someone saw the mutation. 

Y/N didn't flinch. She didn't back away in fear. Instead, she gently slid her fingers through his, feeling the cool metal in her palm. She slipped his other hand from his flesh one and ran it against his beard, and through his long locks of hair. 

"You're different," She said quietly, E/C eyes peering up through thick lashes, meeting his ocean ones. A small but teary smile stretched across her lips. "But you're still Bucky."

It didn't feel like one of their other kisses. It didn't feel like their first one, or when they would say hello or goodbye. Or the kiss when Bucky had to leave for the army. Not even the engagement kiss could do this one justice. 

Words couldn hardly even begin to describe this kiss. As soon as her lips brushed against his, it was as if a weight had been lifted off Bucky's shoulders. The guilt and remorse, the pain and dark thoughts that always lingered… they drifted off into space, and left him here, with her. There was no Winter Soldier, or Thanos, or Hydra. There was only Y/N. 

And that was all he needed. 

***

"What about… Ruby?" 

"Oh God, no."

"What's wrong with Ruby?"

"A girl who called my hair ugly in fifth grade was named Ruby. How about Taylor?"

"Like Taylor Swift?"

" … who?"

"Nevermind. Say another one."

"Oh!" Y/N held a finger up, still being careful to keep her voice down. "What about Samantha? We can nickname her Sam for-"

"No!" Bucky cut her off quickly, shaking his head. Y/N slaps his arm, holding a finger to her lips. 

"Shh! You're going to wake her," She hissed, both of them peering down to see if they had woken the referred individual up. 

'Her' being the tiny bundle in Y/N's arms. Their newly born baby girl. 

It felt like just yesterday Bucky had reunited with Y/N. It all happened so quickly. Hugging his parents and sisters for the first time in eighty years. Planning the wedding. Marrying the love of his life. Trying for three years to have a child. Finding out they were going to be parents. And now. Sitting in the hospital room, holding the newest addition to the Barnes family in their arms. 

She was so tiny, to Bucky. He had been scared to hold her at first, given how small she was. It wasn't that he wasn't good with children, because Bucky was in fact an expert with them. Having three younger sisters happens to do that to a person. However, she was so small. He didn't remember babies being this small. 

But the second the doctor handed her to him, and her E/C eyes pried open and peered up at him… his heart filled with love for this unbelievably tiny human being. This tiny human being who he had helped make. 

"What about B/N B/M/N?" Bucky asked softly, running a hand against his daughter's thin brown locks of hair. Y/N looked up, a beaming smile on her face. 

"Oh my God, Buck!" She tucked a strand of his hair that had escaped from his ponytail away. "That's' perfect, I love it."

Both gazed back down at their baby, who was sleeping peacefully, tucked away within the soft purple fabric of her blanket. 

The serenity only lasted for a moment as a loud knock echoed behind the door. 

"Come in," Bucky called raising a brow. However, it formed into a smile as four familiar figures pile into the room. 

"Hey," Steve gave them a small wave, holding the door open for the rest of his family. "Are we the first one's here?"

"You are," Y/N smiled, giving Peggy a soft greeting as she rushed up to her. 

"Oh, she's beautiful," Peggy held a hand against her heart as B/N's eyes began to open from her slumber. 

"Everyone," Bucky scooped up his child, holding her tightly against his chest. "I'd like you to meet B/N B/M/N Barnes. Our daughter."

"She kind of looks like a potato."

"Samuel!" Peggy's snapped at her six year old, eyes wide at his comment. 

"But she kind of does," His twin agreed, giggling. Steve sighed, shaking his head. 

"Natasha, don't encourage your brother."

"It's fine," Y/N laughed tiredly, running a hand though her messy hair. To just the children, she added, "She gets the potatoness from Uncle Buck."

"Hey!" Bucky yelped, causing a string of giggles to emit from both his wife and the children. Peggy returned back to Y/N's side, already quite aware of the toll childbirth has on a woman. Steve, however, approaches the newly born baby in his best friend's arms. 

"She really is breathtaking," He murmured, using a finger to shift the blanket from B/N's soft cheeks. Bucky stared down lovingly at this child… his child. 

"I never thought I would ever get this," Bucky says softly, his voice cracking. "The wife, and the kids. I always thought my life would end with a Hydra soldier shooting me through the skull."

Steve gazed up, sympathy in his bright blue eyes. However, Bucky's sight rested elsewhere. On her. The one person who made all of this possible. 

"But here I am, holding my daughter, and her mother is the love of my life. It all feels so surreal… I feel like it's a dream and I'm going to wake up soon."

Steve laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly. "It's not a dream Buck. This is it. This is your happy ending," Bucky looked up, a fresh set of tears brimming his eyes. Was it? Was this all real? Was this his happy ending?

If so, Bucky couldn't wish for a better one. 

***

Or is it a dream....? 

Jkjk, I won’t make this angsty. Or will I...?

Hope you enjoyed! 

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! LOOK HERE FOR WHAT YOU CAN SUBMIT!

[boleynns]

“For the Throne” Album - potential clues to S8

I somehow just noticed that the entire “Inspired by Game of Thrones” album was released (they had only release the first 3 songs when I checked about 2 weeks ago), and I listened to the entire thing while taking notes. TLDR take-away: strong evidence that artists were given plot-points for S8, strong evidence of a betrayal for love, lots of fire, and (I think) major arrows towards Danni’s journey for the rest of the show.

Disclaimer: confirmation bias exists, and I love the idea of Danni burning down King’s Landing, so I can’t help but read into that. If the idea of that plot point bothers you, this might not be the lyric analysis you want to read!

Kingdom of One by Maren Morris

This was one of the ones released after (I think…) ep. 1, though it does have some hints to future events.

“First light, sacrifice” (Melisandre dying)

“Bird’s eye, saw the signs” (Bran)

“All you can give, all you can bear, all that you longed for, nothing compares, but nothing is sacred, no one is safe, so you wanna play God? Is that all you got? Would you sell your soul, burn it all, everything that you love, finally become second to none in a kingdom of one?” If this chorus is in-line with the rest of this song, this to me screams: Danni lost nearly everything in the Battle of Winterfell - Jon (parentage reveal), potentially Rhaegal (not that he died, just that he’s kinda Jon’s dragon now), the Dothraki, most of the Unsullied, and her most trusted advisor and friend in Jorah, and now there’s no point in not just burning everything down.

If I squint, the chorus could be about Cersei (everything she’s loved before doesn’t matter next to power, she burnt down the Sept and once Jaime left effectively became a “kingdom of one”), but overall it doesn’t seem to emotionally fit her as well, and Cersei has no involvement with the other Winterfell characters alluded to - nor any involvement in the battle. Also the song ends with even more fire (“burn it all”, “ash to ash, dust to dust”).

Power is Power by The Weekend

I know this song has had a lyric video, but I think it’s still worth examining. “Power is Power” (those words, not the song itself) is obviously a Cersei line, but the first verse seems very Night-King-oriented (“I was born in the ice and snow, with the winter wolves, in the dark alone”)

The chorus though then goes into something that could fit Cersei or (probably) Danni as well (“A knife in my heart couldn’t slow me down, cuz power is power, now watch me burn it down”). There are many, many, many “burn it all” references through this album, and while Cersei did use wildfyre on the Sept, Danni’s whole thing is “Fire and Blood” so it just seems inevitable that it’s her burning the Red Keep/King’s Landing.

“I die looking up at your face…Only love could kill me, God bless” Could again fit Cersei (with the theory that Jaime kills her) or Danni (betrayal for Love)

“Heavy is the crown, but never for a queen” Again, both Cersei and Danni, but again the song ends with “Now watch me burn it down”.

Nightshade by The Lumineers

Pretty much about the collective group in the S7 excursion beyond the wall. The second verse is interesting and very specific — about a single rider who saw the Army’s footprints, who swore an oath and with their life would pay, and also mentions “80 miles from home”. Seems like it’s about Benjen who was a rider, a Night’s Watch member, and a Stark from Winterfell (not exactly 80 miles, but I’m assuming that number was more chosen for rhyming purposes).

The 3rd Verse (“We were surrounded and the ending was near, all of the sudden, a ranger arrived, a savior appeared - made it to safety, but the devil was here”) again about Benjen (ranger) arriving to the S7 fight beyond the wall.

Originally I thought the chorus wasn’t really thematically relevant to the rest of the song (each chorus ends with “It was all for the throne”), and it seemed more like a general allusion to the marketing for the season, but also could be that the whole Beyond the Wall excursion was literally only to gain Danni a temporary truce in her perusal of the throne.

Hollow Crown by Ellie Goulding

The song overall is about a House of Cards (“paper castle”, “hollow crown”, all things that are flimsy and won’t last) and again mentions “burn it down”. And again pretty clearly seems like a Cersei & Daenerys song about the other being the fake queen and how it’ll end with Dany burning the Red Keep.

The first verse is all about paranoia (“Is there anyone you trust ‘round here”, “Keep a knife under your pillow”, “You got everyone against you somehow”, “It’s become an obsession, look at your refection, look who you’re becoming right now”): while this could still fit either of them, the “look at who you’re becoming” seems more Danni-relevant as Cersei has always been this way.

Baptize Me by X Ambassadors and Jacob Banks

Perhaps about Theon? A lot of water imagery, mentions of redemption and praying for a savior, but overall of all the songs on the album this one is the most vague and generic country-rock. Maybe I’m being stupid for not getting who this song is about, as it doesn’t even completely fit Theon completely, and just doesn’t sound like any character we know specifically. I’m really not into this song, and ends up just sounding like a guy in our world singing about God instead of a Game of Thrones character.

Too Many Gods by A$AP Rocky & Joey Bada$$

Overall about a lot of wars, a lot of gods, etc. Good song! Definitely specifics about the show (thrones, ravens, etc.) that could be about Jon, but kind of mainly about the futility of war and all the pain it brings. Some interesting single lines:

“It’s just too many laws” - reminds me of Jaime’s “They make you swear and swear” speech.

“Strange screams down the corridors” — Arya running through Winterfell’s halls

“I had a dream I woke up a king in a peasant body” — Jon post-parentage feelings, not feeling like he should be a king?

“Still and silent, writing papers, flying ravens with a message about me” — Anytime I read/see S8 stuff mentioning raven scrolls all I can think of is Sophie Turner saying she was given a raven scroll from S8 as a souvenir, and I want to know what it means. So that is all I can think of with this line.

Turn On Me by The National

Musically, this is my favorite song on the album. Great lyrics, great atmosphere. The lyrics seem to point to the song being about Jon from Danni’s perspective. Starts off about the rhythm of the ocean under the moon (boat!bang), and specifically mentions “And your mother’s angst the day you were born, the day you cut her down” (Lyanna dying in childbirth). For a bit I thought it could be about Tyrion, but the rest of the song is dealing with the betrayal of an intimate relationship which doesn’t really fit with him.

The second verse is a total mystery to me that may be solved in retrospect, but its very poetic (“Do leaves fall in perfect sentences? Do maggots crawl your name?”).

“Do mirrors laugh at you behind your back?” — this is the second reference to mirrors, after the line in “Hollow Crown”

“Does your family think you’re too far gone, do you wonder if they’re right? Are you different than you used to be? Are you alone somewhere tonight?” — Danni & Jon post-parentage. The Starks clearly not interested in Jon taking on a Targaryen identity.

“I’ve gone too high, I’m way too far, I’ve no idea where you are. Will I see you when you turn, when you turn on me? When I turn around will you be there, at the center of the world like you promised to be? Will you suddenly seem like a stranger? I can’t tell anymore what you want from me.” — Again, whatever Jon and Danni had in Dannie’s eyes has been ruined by the reveal, and her worry is that he’ll turn on her.

From the Grave by James Arthur

“crown of roses in your hair”, potentially about Rhaeger and Lyanna? A lot of “I’m far away, but I miss you and want to come back”. Not to mention it’s called “From the Grave” and they’re both dead, and within the song it sounds like the singer is speaking from the grave. Another vague song.

Me Traicionaste (“You Betrayed Me”) by Rosalia

It’s in Spanish so I had to google translate the lyrics, but the sound is very haunting and it’s literally called “You Betrayed Me” HELLO.

“I came to meet you even though I knew, Oh, you designed it, Bye, you betrayed me, Oh, love you do not see it”- Which is straight-up Political!Jon in one stanza. You can squint and see Tyrion or Varys betraying her, but she’s not in love with either of them so seems much less likely.

When I Lie by Lil Peep

“Stick that needle in my eye, just lost my peace of mind, I’m not evil be design, but I feel dead at times”.

“All my friends are really dead, still hear their voices in my head”.

This one is hard to pin down, as the lyrics are very specific but somehow vague at the same time. I’m wondering if “needle” is Arya’s Needle, and potentially this is about Cersei? Or someone else that Arya will kill with Needle? The song uses “lie” as both “not telling the truth” and “laying down”.

Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

“I wasn’t thinking when I told you to stay, it was just too hard to push you away, you don’t know that you’re in over your head, I’m afraid I’ll push you over the edge” — Another mystery song! The rest of the song is about this relationship that needs to be let go of even though they don’t want to, and how one of them is not safe because of it. 

I thought about it being Danni & Jon, but I don’t think it makes sense. 

The only thing that has already happened in the show that fits the lyrics is actually Tyrion and Shae - him saying he needs her to leave even though he doesn’t want to, her being in danger, the consequence being life or death...but that relationship was a long time ago and doesn’t really feel important enough to merit a song, so who knows.

Wolf at Your Door by Chloe and Halle

Just from the title I immediately though of Jon at Dany’s door on the boat, but this song actually encompasses all of the remaining Starks (though mostly focuses on Arya).

“A wolf creeps softly in the snow, a knife between her teeth she roams, for she is now a stranger” - Arya using her faceless man skills to sneak into the Godswood with the Catspaw Dagger.

“Chasing a fairytale, chasin’ a lie, but everything changes, and everything dies. You preyed on my innocence, tried to bury my name, but now there’ ice in my veins” — Sansa wanting to be a princess in a fairytale that wasn’t real, her family dying, being used by everyone as a pawn, but coming out the other side.

“There’s a wolf at your door, there’s a hound at your heels, there’s a snake in your bed, tell me how does it feel?” — Maybe about Jon — the wolf at your door, and he’s sleeping (or was sleeping) with a “dragon” (might be a stretch to snake, but whatever). Or he’s the snake in someone’s bed?

“When you let the wolves in, you let the wolves in. When you think that it’s over, I swear, we’ll be there” - A Time for Wolves bitches!

“Up from the ashes, run through the fire, Down by the blade that bled us the same” — clearly about the Catspaw Dagger being used against the Starks and then Arya using it to protect them. 

I’m lit by this song’s lyrics.

Pray by Matt Bellamy

This song uses direct clips of Melisandre’s words while bringing Jon back to life in S6, but then the English says “Pray with me, we can bring her back” which…is someone (Dany? Sansa?) else going to die and then be brought back to life? A woman hasn’t been brought back before in the show (as far as I remember) so it’d need to be talking about in future episodes. Color me curious.

[write-havoc]

Of Sons and Daughters Ch. 8

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Having heard nothing back from Arthur after sending off a letter with Charles to give to him, Emmeline concludes that he wants nothing to do with her. It hurts. A lot, actually. She sheds many tears when the realization hits her that he’s not going to contact her. Her only friend, the only person she felt any connection to in the world would never talk to her again.

She pushes on, despite her sadness. Traveling into Valentine every few days, she sells her fish to the butcher on the corner for the money she needs to buy her supplies. She’s very nervous at first to walk around by herself, but after a while, she realizes that people mostly just pass her by, not paying her much mind.

Once she gets home from her trips into town, she always lets out a sigh as she opens her door. Her small cabin seems so large and empty when she crosses the threshold. To keep her mind off of the deafening silence, she buries herself in books, rereading ones she’s read a million times before in addition to new ones she saves up her money to buy.

She also practices her drawing skills. Drawing Arthur is too painful for her, so she focuses on illustrating Miss Susie just right. Her chickens, who all have their own names, are also frequent models for her. With all the time she spends putting pencil to paper, her pictures become more refined and detailed. She even tacks the best ones up on her walls as decorations.

During the same several weeks, Arthur is restless. He spends much of his time away from camp, whether he’s hunting, fishing, or just exploring the land around him. Pearson’s wagon never runs low with all the animals Arthur is bringing back. Plus, he’s given Pearson enough supplies to make him some satchels and spruce up the camp a little to boot. Even though Arthur is choosing to spend more time alone, he still gets roped into the odd job at times.

Just a couple days after the situation with Emmeline’s letter, Arthur sits next to the lake, drawing a picture of ducks in flight when Dutch comes up to him.

“Got something for you,” he says in an almost sing song way.

Arthur closes his journal and stashes it away in his satchel before turning back to the older man. “What’s that?”

Dutch pulls his hand out from around his back to show Arthur a shiny silver badge. “You and me are officially deputies of this fine city of Rhodes!” he calls out jovially.

Arthur just stares at the object for a moment. “What in the hell do you mean we’re deputies?” He gets up and takes the badge from Dutch.

“I got the good sheriff drunk and convinced him to let me and you help him with his little Braithwaite problem.”

“Braithwaite problem?”

“You haven’t noticed that the two most prominent families here seem to have a decades long blood feud going on?”

Arthur fiddles with the little bit of metal in his hand, tracing his thumb over the recessed letters of the word “deputy”. “Yeah, I noticed. I just didn’t think it would be our problem.”

“It’s not going to be our problem , my boy. It’ll be our gain .”

“How do ya figure that?”

“Seems there’s rumors about town that the Grays and the Braithwaites are sitting on a pile of Confederate gold. I think if we get them distracted enough, we can swoop right in and take it.”

“Confederate gold?” Arthur can’t help but laugh. “There’s rumors of Confederate gold bein’ buried all over the south! They ain’t nothin’ but rumors , though, Dutch.”

Dutch’s face falls into an unimpressed expression. “I’m inclined to believe them in this case, Arthur.”

“Why?”

“Because why else would these families be fighting each other so hard if not for money?”

Arthur shrugs as he scratches at his beard. “I don’t know. People fight for all sorts ‘a reasons.”

“Well, that gold’s out there. I can feel it.”

“I ain’t sure ‘bout that, Dutch. If one of them families was sitting on a cache of gold, they’d ‘a spent it by now. Even if they ain’t exactly hurting for money. You know rich people always find something to spend it on.”

Dutch lets out a little huff. “I also know that rich people are good at squirreling away money they don’t want the government to find out about,” he replies.

Arthur nods once in agreement. “I guess.” Though Dutch’s statement is true, Arthur still isn’t completely convinced. “Ain’t they into liquor and tobacco?” he changes the subject, not wanting to really start an argument.

“Yeah. The Braithwaites are, indeed, in the moonshine business, now that you mention it. And as Sheriff Gray’s new deputies, we’ve been tasked with destroying one of their stills.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Dutch repeats, a little annoyed. “You know, I was pretty excited to get the chance to work with you since we haven’t done so in a while, but if you’re gonna be like this-“

“I’ll do it,” Arthur finds himself saying. He doesn’t really want to, but Dutch’s guilt trip was successful in making Arthur feel bad about being away from him so much.

After that mission, though, Arthur’s already low enthusiasm in getting in the middle of the blood feud between the families drops even more. That’s when he makes himself scarce. To save himself from another guilt trip from Dutch, though, he makes sure to keep providing for the camp. If he keeps everyone fed and the money box full, Dutch won’t really be able to complain. At least too much.

After turning in some pelts to the trapper in Saint Denis, Arthur finds himself riding north on the easternmost shore on the outskirts of the city. For some unknown reason, he starts to wander around the little islands out there, avoiding alligators and getting stuck in the mud. Out of the corner of his eye, he happens to catch the sight of a lock box, half dug out of the mud underneath a tree. Once he opens it, he’s disappointed to find that instead of money, it’s filed with nothing but old letters dated to the early 1800s. He’s about to straighten back up to leave when the name “Lucille Braithwaite” catches his eye.

Upon reading the letters, Arthur pieces together that many years ago, Lucille Braithwaite and Douglas Gray, of the infamous Rhodes families, were in love with each other. As interesting as that historical tidbit is, it’s the letter in which Lucille instructs Douglas to steal gold from her family and as well as his own in order to help fund the abolition of slavery.

Arthur lets out a shocked chuckle at this development. After shoving all the letters in his satchel, he makes a bee line for the camp back at Clemens Point. Once he gets there, he immediately hands Dutch the letters as the man stands by his own tent.

“What’s this?” Dutch asks as he sifts through the papers.

“There ain’t no gold,” Arthur comments simply.

From close by, Hosea hears this exchange and walks over. “No gold where?”

“Those families are fightin’ over nothin’,” Arthur starts to explain as Dutch reads over the letters. “Two members of their own families worked together to take all that gold. Those families didn’t steal from each other; they stole from themselves.”

Hosea seems confused at first. “So where’s the gold?”

Dutch lets out a huff as he shoves the letters toward Hosea. “It’s gone. Given away almost a hundred years ago.”

Hosea takes the papers and starts to read them himself.

“Damnit!” Dutch calls out. “That gold could’ve gotten us where we needed to be.”

“Seems there were a couple of good-hearted people in those inbred families at one time,” Hosea comments. “Gave all that money to try and stop the slave trade. It’s noble.”

Dutch scoffs. “Puts us out.”

“We should back off from them,” Hosea says, but is met with a glare from Dutch.

“Just because two people acted nobly a hundred years ago doesn’t mean the people here now are innocent.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hosea corrects. “I meant that they’re starting to get suspicious. And our profit margin just went way down. We need to cut our losses before we get run out of this town and attract more attention than we already have. Pinkertons are on our trail already. Remember, they found our first camp.”

Arthur agrees, but he waits to see what Dutch will say before he voices his opinion.

Dutch finally speaks up after casting his gaze down. “Yeah. I suppose we should stop playing those families.”

From out of nowhere, Micah comes stomping towards them. He had been eavesdropping on the conversation, apparently, and is none too happy with what he heard.

“What?!” the blond man calls out. “So while Arthur has been sulking around pining for that girl and letting us all pick up the slack around here, he just happens across a bunch ‘a letters that just so happen to confirm just why he hasn’t been helping out with everything. Seems awfully convenient to me.”

Before Arthur can bite anything back, Hosea cuts in. “You really think that Arthur went out, found old paper with the Braithwaite’s letterhead,” he holds the letters up harshly to show Micah, “used a fountain pen to write in a script he’s never used before, and concocted all this back story just to get us to back off?” He gives Micah a stern look.

Micah, knowing that he has been successfully told off, but not wanting to admit that, just shrugs. “Maybe.”

Hosea rolls his eyes. “Have you always been dumber ‘n a box of rocks?” he asks Micah.

In response, Micah throws Dutch a look before stomping off.

“Why do we keep him around?” Arthur comments.

“Arthur,” Dutch chides. “He’s still rough, but I see something in him.”

“Don’t know what,” Arthur mutters under his breath.

Dutch hears him just fine, though. “Follow me, Arthur. We need to talk about something.”

The two men walk out to the lake shore, far enough away that no one can listen in.

“I ain’t never gonna like Micah,” Arthur starts to defend himself, assuming this little talk will be about their ongoing feud.

“I know. I don’t wanna talk about that.” Dutch takes out a cigar and lights it. “I saw Emmeline in Valentine a couple weeks ago.”

Arthur looks over to him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything, though, waiting for Dutch to finish.

“She was selling off some fish to the butcher. She looked like she was doing good for herself.”

Arthur nods. “That’s good.”

“The butcher told me he sees her a few times a week. I gave him some extra money to give her when he sees her.”

“He actually gonna do that instead of pocket it?” Arthur responds skeptically.

“If he knows what’s best for him, he will.” He takes a puff on his cigar, letting the smoke cloud the air between him and Arthur. “Despite what happened between you two, I need to thank you for teaching her what you did to give her a chance.”

Arthur doesn’t know what to say to that. “She’s smart. She just needed someone to show her. Took to fishing pretty well.”

“Despite the teacher,” Dutch jokes.

“Yeah.” Arthur chuckles.

“She’s a beautiful girl,” Dutch comments. “A good man is going to sweep her up in no time.”

Arthur schools his features despite his chest tightening at the thought of another man making her his wife.

One day, Arthur finds himself around Valentine, so he decides to run into the store to stock up on coffee. After he grabs what he went in there for, he ends up buying a few extras, too. Oat cakes for Sparrow, some apples, too, and chocolate bars. Once he exits with his satchel now completely full, he sees a familiar horse with a small cart hitched behind it and, of course, a familiar woman in the seat.

He thinks for a moment that he should duck back into the store, go out the back to avoid Emmeline all together. He finds that his feet are already taking him closer to her, though.

When she finally notices him walking beside her, she pulls Miss Susie to a stop and stares at him a moment. Before he can say anything to greet her, her expression falls from neutral to something more pained as her eyes well up with tears.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Don’t cry, Emma. Please.”

She looks away from him quickly and covers her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.”

An voice from behind them suddenly calls out, “You wanna move it, mister. I got places to be.”

Arthur looks back to see an angry man trying to maneuver his own cart around Emmeline’s. He holds back from responding to the guy none too kindly. Instead, he jumps up beside Emmeline and steers her horse off the road and into the alleyway.

“Are you alright, Emma?” he asks softly.

She doesn’t remove her hands from her face, too embarrassed for Arthur to see her so upset.

Arthur lets out a heavy breath. “Please look at me.”

She takes her hands away, wiping at her eyes before looking up at him. “I didn’t expect to see you,” she replies quietly.

He looks away before jumping down off the cart. When he turns back, he holds his arms out to her, prompting her to step down, too. Leading her out of the alley, they move to stand behind one of the buildings for a little more privacy.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice still choked with emotion.

“You don’t got nothin’ to be sorry about.”

“Did Charles give you my letter?”

He scratches at his beard. He really has let it get a little unruly. “I read it.”

She nods. There was that little bit of hope in her that he hadn’t read it and that their time apart could be explained by something else. But, no. He knew she wanted to talk with him and chose not to.

“I see,” she replies sadly. “Can you just tell me what I did wrong?”

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. It’s just...” he trails off. “You’re better off without me.”

She looks up at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“Find yourself a good man that’ll take care of you.”

“ You’re a good man,” she comments.

“I ain’t, Emmeline. I ain’t a good man at all.”

“How can you say that after everything you’ve done?”

“You don’t know of everything I’ve done.”

“I know what you did for me.”

He shakes his head. “Emma, please understand-“

“Just tell me you don’t want me.”

He looks up to her. “What?”

“I’ll be alright if you say you don’t want me. We can just be friends. And... if you don’t want to see me, we can write letters. Please, Arthur...” She chokes back tears. “You’re my only friend. Don’t just leave me.”

It absolutely breaks his heart to see her pleading like this. But this is all for the best for her. Keeping her away from him is better for her. Right?

“I’m an outlaw,” he blurts out, though he’s not really sure why de does.

“What?”

“I’m an outlaw,” he repeats. “I’ve stolen. Lied. Hurt people. Killed people. Spent more ‘n a few nights in jail.”

“An outlaw?” She blinks hard, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “I-I thought you worked for for Uncle Tacitus.”

“Ain’t no such man,” he explains. “It’s just an alias we give out so people can write to us. It changes depending on where we’re at. Tacitus Kilgore. Aiden O’Malley. Some others. They’re just names.”

She shakes her head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Emma. You’re too good to be in this life. I’m a bad man. I run with bad men. You should just forget all about me. Act like I never existed.”

She stares up at him, trying to process everything. “Did you steal from me?” she finally asks.

“No,” he answers automatically.

“Did you plan to? Did you plan to hurt me?”

“No,” he responds emphatically. “I would never hurt you. Or take from you like that.”

“Then you’re still a good man, Arthur Morgan. With everything you did for me, you’re a good man . You’re not changing my mind in that.”

He lets out a sigh. “You have to understand, Emmeline-“ He pauses when he sees the odd expression on her face. “You alright?”

Emmeline quickly turns away from Arthur, taking a few steps before starting to dry heave into the bushes.

“Shit.” Arthur rushes over to place his hand in her back as she’s bent over. “You sick?”

She stands back up and takes a deep breath once she’s done. “Yes, I think so. I threw up both my breakfast and lunch today. And I did so yesterday, too. The day before that, I was queasy.” She wipes her mouth on her sleeve. “I was on my way to see the doctor when I saw you.”

The thought that Emmeline could possibly be sick has Arthur worried, so he quickly leads her to the nearby doctor’s office. Just as they get to the door, the doctor walks out with his keys in his hand.

“She’s sick,” Arthur calls out.

The doctor doesn’t even turn around, but continues with putting his key in the lock. “Sorry. She’ll have to come back tomorrow. I’m closed.”

Arthur suddenly grabs the man but the collar and pins him to the wall beside the door. “She’s sick,” Arthur growls in the man’s face.

The doctor smartly decides not to make the man before him angry. “Alright, sir. I-I’ll see her.” Once Arthur releases him, the doctor unlocks the door and opens it. “Exam room is in the back.”

As the doctor closes the front door, Arthur leads Emmeline into the back room. She takes her seat in the exam chair as the doctor enters.

“Are you her husband?” he asks Arthur.

“Uh. Yes,” Arthur lies. He’s not going to risk this doctor not seeing Emmeline because he might think it improper to examine a single woman.”

Emmeline isn’t fond of lying, but she follows Arthur’s lead nevertheless. “He’s my husband,” she asserts, though it’s unprompted.

The doctor gives her a look. “So, what seems to be bothering you Mrs...?”

“Callahan,” Arthur provides.

“Mrs. Callahan.” The doctor waits for her to answer his question.

“My stomach,” she answers. “I’ve been queasy for a few days. I threw up earlier today and yesterday, too.”

He places his hand on her head. “Any chills?”

“No.”

“Diarrhea?”

“No.”

“Headaches?”

“No.”

“Eaten anything new recently.”

Emmeline thinks. “No.”

He straightens up and looks over to Arthur. “How long have you been married?”

“Six months,” Arthur pulls out of nowhere.

The doctor turns back to Emmeline. “When was your last monthly?”

“Uh.” Emmeline thinks. “It was... uh.”

“More than a month ago?” the doctor cuts in.

“Maybe two,” Emmeline finally answers.

“Were you having them regularly before this?”

“Yes. I think so.”

Arthur’s eyes go wide once he realizes what the doctor is thinking.

“I assume you have been having marital relations,” the doctor comments.

Both Emmeline and Arthur’s faces go red.

“Well,” the doctor calls out too cheerfully to the room, “I’m inclined to think that Mrs. Callahan is in a family way. Though we wont be sure for another month or so.”

“Are you sure?” Arthur asks in a voice much higher than his usual one.

The doctor thinks a moment. “Have you been fatigued lately?” he asks Emmeline.

“Yes. I’ve found myself taking naps in the afternoon,” she answers.

“Are you able to stand any pressure to your chest?”

“Not really,” she answers, recalling how tender her breasts have been lately. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a fairly common symptom of early pregnancy,” the doctor answers.

“Pregnancy,” Emmeline whispers the word.

“Are you sure ?” Arthur repeats, his brain still trying to come to terms with everything.

The doctor chuckles. “As sure as I can be this early on, Mr. Callahan. But with a young, healthy woman like that, I don’t suspect it could be anything else.”

He goes back out to the main room for a moment, leaving Arthur and Emmeline alone in the room. Both of them are too shocked to even say anything to each other. When he comes back in, he hands a paper off to Emmeline.

“Here are the names of some midwives in the area. It won’t hurt to talk to them. But if your menses return, this episode may be diet related, so you’ll have to watch that. If you still cease to bleed and your abdomen starts to grow, you’ll know you’re with child.”

Both Arthur and Emmeline are in shock at the news. Neither of them say anything as the doctor hurries them out of his office so he can finally lock up for the day. They stand there dumbstruck for a few minutes before Emmeline speaks up.

“Can we talk about this?” she asks, unsure what Arthur will do.

He turns to her and looks right into her eyes. “I’ll drive you home and then we can talk.” After unhitching Sparrow so she can follow them, he helps Emmeline into the cart then sits beside her, taking the reins. They’re both quiet for the short ride, waiting until they’re in the privacy of Emmeline’s cabin to start to talk.

As they start to pull up to the house, Arthur sees two strange horses and two riders to go with them standing near the front door of the house. The men are dressed in nice suits complete with bowler hats and badges that Arthur has never seen before. They’re certainly not with the local law, so these must be the Pinkertons that Hosea mentioned.

“Isn’t this a surprise?” the older man of the two calls out as Arthur pulls up. “Arthur Morgan, I presume.”

Arthur quickly jumps down and rounds the wagon to help Emmeline down. He makes sure to push her behind him as they approach the men.

“Who are you?” Arthur growls out.

“I’m Agent Milton,” the man closest to him says. “And this is Agent Ross.” He gestures back to the man holding the shotgun.

“Leave. Now,” Arthur demands.

“No need to be rude, Mr. Morgan. I’m not here for you. I’m here for Miss Van Der Linde.” He gestures to Emmeline.

Arthur’s eyes go wide. This man should not know anything about Emmeline. Especially that she’s actually Dutch’s daughter.

Thinking that this must be a misunderstanding, Emmeline steps out from behind Arthur to address Milton. “That’s not my name. I’m Emmeline Turner. You’re looking for someone else.”

Arthur steps forward, once again putting himself in front.

Milton snickers at her. “She doesn’t know, does she?”

“Know what?” Emmeline peeks her head out to ask.

Arthur lets out a huff. “She ain’t a part of this, so leave .”

Milton seems amused. “This is quite the situation Dutch orchestrated, isn’t it? The son he raised but didn’t father found in the company of the daughter he fathered but never raised.”

Emmeline steps out again, but Arthur still covers her with his arm. “My father was Joseph Turner,” she insists. “Not that other man you said.”

Milton leans forward smugly. “You’re Dutch Van Der Linde’s bastard, sweetheart,” he insists. “Your mama must’ve been a busy girl.”

“Enough,” Arthur says to shut him up. “What do you want?”

Milton straightens up. “Since you’re here, Mr. Morgan, I’m going to offer you a deal. Get Dutch to meet me so I can bring him in and I won’t harm a hair on anyone else’s head in that gang of yours. Not the women. Not the old man. Not that little family. Not the negro,” he continues to show off just how much he knows the gang. “Not the Mexican or the Indian negro or the Irishman or the O’Driscoll. The old drunk or the angry drunk or the sailor. The magician or the priest or the German. All them safe if you just get Dutch out in the open. Alone.”

Arthur pauses a moment, thinking about all those people and their potential safety. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally replies.

“Did Dutch tell you what a busy boy he was while you were away? Of did he keep what he did from you?” Milton continues with a smirk on his face. “Did he talk about the girl he murdered in cold blood in Blackwater? Or how about the train he robbed belonging to Leviticus Cornwall, killing all the crew. Did he even mention that he killed half of Strawberry, including lawmen and citizens?”

Arthur listens on. He knows what Milton is trying to do. He’s trying to get Arthur to turn on Dutch. And while all those things that he was talking about are troubling, Arthur isn’t about to betray the man he sees as a father without at least getting his side of things.

“I haven’t seen Dutch in months, so he ain’t told me nothin’,” Arthur continues to lie.

Milton lets out an angry breath through his flared nostrils. “Then I’ll have to go back to my original plan. I’m going to take the girl and see if Dutch comes for her.”

Arthur immediately draws his pistol causing Ross to aim his shotgun in Arthur’s direction.

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Arthur growls.

“Put the gun down,” Ross demands, but Arthur doesn’t take his eyes off Milton.

“If you know so much about me,” Arthur starts in a low tone,” then you know I ain’t exactly a slow draw. You really think your man can get a shot off before I put a bullet in your brain?”

Milton chuckles under his breath, trying to hide his nervousness upon hearing that statement. After making his decision on what to do, he takes a step forward. “Until next time, Mr. Morgan.” He and Ross start to walk over to their horses. “Miss Van Der Linde,” he tips his hat to her before mounting his horse and leaving.

“What was all that?” Emmeline asks once the pair of men are out of sight.

Arthur finally holsters his gun once the threat is gone. “Grab some clothes.” He turns to cut Miss Susie loose from the wagon.

“Who were they?”

“Emma, go pack a bag,” he says more forcefully. “We gotta go. Now.”

“Was that all true?” she chokes out.

Arthur walks over to her, laying his hands on her shoulders so she’ll listen to him. “Please, Emma. I’ll tell you everything once we get safe. I promise. But we gotta leave. They might be back with more men and I ain’t letting them take you.”

She finally nods, realizing that Arthur is deadly serious right now. After running inside to shove some clothes into her saddlebag, she comes back out to Arthur saddling up Miss Susie.

“We’re gonna be riding all day.” He takes the bag from Emmeline and secures it to the saddle. “If ya need to take a rest, we will. But if we can keep riding... I’d just rather make sure those lawmen aren’t on our tail.”

Emmeline doesn’t fight him and allows him to help her up in the saddle.

Arthur looks up at her. “Just keep up with me, okay? I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you.” His eyes fall to her stomach before he turns away to mount Sparrow. Just a few moments later, they ride off, though Emmeline doesn’t know what the destination is.

[gusogames-blog]

Red Dead Redmeption 2: Big, But Why?

Red Dead Redemption 2 marks one of the most detailed and massive open world games to date. It’s also incredibly divisive. Its deliberate pace, dated controls, and dense menus hold many players back from truly enjoying the game. I would posit that the game suffers from a disparity between its form versus its function. Generally speaking in storytelling, the saying goes, “Form form follows function.” That’s to say whatever the purpose of your story is should be supported by the form your story takes. I first learned this from a film instructor in college. The concept boils down to figuring out what best fits your story and what will best magnify it. I learned it about film, but it works for any storytelling media.

When playing Red Dead Redemption 2 or RDR2 for brevity, I often found myself feeling like what I was doing wasn’t fun. Nothing about the situations spelled out that they wouldn’t or couldn’t be fun. Yet, here I was halfway bored a lot of time. The Function of RDR2 is to tell the story of Arthur Morgan, illuminate the pitfalls of being a career criminal, and the cycle of bandit-tude and critiquing the idea of an honorable thief, among other things. I think largely it was successful in terms of its story. However the form that the story took held it back from affecting its audience as much as it could. Being an open world, the game had to allow for huge breaks in the story, traveling through the world and finding a way to continue the story outside of the main missions. RDR 2 isn’t particularly good at any of those things. The story of the game doesn’t really benefit from being an open world game.

I will qualify that with the fact that Arthur’s character is explored in the open world pretty well. You see how he interacts with strangers, animals, etc. The world itself feels alive and massive. Yet somehow stilted by your lack of choices. Arthur always says what he does, save for a few choices. Your options in combat are limited. You follow the objectives of the missions to a tee. The game feels very funneled most of the time. It forces you into things which is a detriment to its story. For a game about the west’s dying freedom it actually makes quite a bit of sense.

Yet the issue with the story is that The Dutch Vanderlinde gang isn’t always in the shit. They start out in a rough spot, but you never get a feeling that they’re being closed in on. There’s a constant sense of the gang always seconds away from being caught almost all the time. Every big crime the game commits to starts out okay then goes wrong. That can describe almost every mission. The game has a big problem with letting the player have agency. Stealth missions always turn into shootouts. Arthur is always forced to fight. And that’s part of the strange part of this game. Inside Arthur’s journal you see a man who is deeply conflicted about his actions. An element of his character that doesn’t come to a head nearly as fast as you may expect.

He puts up with so much of Dutch basically shit talking him because the story demands it. And another issue with the game is the fact that the gang always needs money for this and that yet if you explore the game a bit and find some treasure, you’re carrying around thousands of dollars at any given time. It’s completely ignored. And that’s essentially what all the problems in this game boil down to. The game ignores the world and sometimes even the player.

The issue with this in terms of form vs function is that there are hidden functions of the story which are unclear to the player. A lot of people will say that a big aspect of the game and the story is that the world doesn’t care about you. The world doesn’t care about your morals or motives or desire to have snappy controls. It’s about what the world is. It’s a slow cruel world. The player is constantly belabored by the desired of the creators to have the world be “authentic” and deliberate. The story of the game suffers so much because of this. All of the characters of the game are fascinating and well-written. The world is exceptionally detailed. The story is impactful and intriguing, not to mention a great companion piece to the original Red Dead Redemption. Yet something along the way was lost in translation.

Compared to other open world games of recent times, RDR2 feels like a game made as an open world out of obligation, not to serve the story. Whereas games like the Witcher 3 take the world and make it packed to the gills with impactful and thoughtful content that informs Geralt’s character and story, Red Dead Redemption 2 fills its vast world with fairly samey tasks to complete for minor aesthetic changes or stat buffs and a few missions where Arthur helps someone. (Which are pretty interesting honestly.) Whereas a game like Metal Gear Solid V dialed in its controls and options in combat to really make you feel like Snake and pushed the series to a new territory (minus the missing third act train wreck), RDR2 decides instead to give the player few options and force them into gunfights and chases over and over because that’s a commentary on the cyclic nature of violence and crime. Maybe?

I think that the story of this game would have been more effective as a short-form, tight game with small open areas. The whole story felt like it was dragging because it constantly made us see how big the world was. You ride from on end of the map to the other and back a lot. And those horse rides, house only a small amount of interesting dialogue or gameplay. In general the game loves to make you do things the long way. It’s strange that this game is so clearly inspired by films and filmmaking, yet it lacks a clear understanding of editing and in particular cutting. So much of this game takes away from the story because it's too long or unimportant, yet still present. The job of an editor is to find the story and try to form everything around it, and RDR2 often loses the story because it just has too much fat left untrimmed.

There’s a certain magic in this game that comes through the cracks every once in a while. The epilogue of the game feels better than the main game because it isn’t afraid to condense time for example. However, these moments are surrounded by a sense of duty to a function of story that weighs down the whole game as a result. Yet despite all this, in technical achievement, and in story overall, Red Dead Redemption 2 is a good game. I just wish it was better.

[ebonyeverstern]

Paradox (Kol)

Kol’s whole body trembled as he watched the video for the nth time. It played on the small screen of what they had called a “laptop”.

Mortals these days with their inventions.

Moving on to the video that played on the screen. It was a woman of [H/C] locks and foxy [E/C] eyes. To Kol, she was the epitome of perfection. To Kol, she was the angel to his devil. To Kol, she was the anchor to his sanity. To Kol, he was hers and she was his.

The woman began to talk, starting off with a smile. She sat on the fountain rim of the compound. 

“Mikaelsons.” 

Kol could see her shaking in spite of her efforts to seem happy.

“First off, I would like to apologize for the fact that I can’t say this to all of you personally. I’m sorry I had to put you through the trouble of learning how to use a laptop.” 

She laughed a little at her attempt to make a joke (it did happen in reality though). One couldn’t see the obvious sadness and pain that she tried to hide if they did not know her so well. 

“I’m going to skip the pleasantries, because if I don’t I swear I’ll end up giving up.”

She abruptly looked up, biting her lip.

Kol immediately recognized this habit of hers. It happened usually when she didn’t want to cry.

“Damn it, I’m not even a quarter through and I’m crying.” Her voice quivered already as she managed to control her tears and simply attempting to smile.

“Okay. Let me start properly.” She took a deep breath before releasing a shaky smile. “There was, or should I say, is a family full of beautiful people. They’re so damn beautiful it should be a crime. I’ve always wished I had some of their genes. Maybe that way I could look half as good as them.” She chuckled.

“Let’s start with the oldest one I know. Elijah.”

“Dear old noble Elijah. Always a gentleman. Always the one for manners. But underneath that noble facade was a man who could devote his soul to anyone but he himself. We never could do anything about it. But it always amazed me how Elijah kept pushing for the redemption of his family, especially Klaus. I won’t delve into the centuries.” She took another deep breath before looking at the camera with glassy eyes.

“Elijah, you are my big brother. The one I can always count on. The one with the strong shoulder if you want to cry, I. Love. You. So. Much. But please, give yourself a break for once. Let Nik go and tend to yourself first. I love that you love your... Our family, but goshdarnit we’ve been waiting for centuries for you to get a life. So now that Hayley is there, don’t let her go, aight? I’ll be watching from the other side. And if you don’t chase Hayley, I swear I’ll come back and haunt your ass until you do.” She smiled lovingly before laughing.

“Now for my hybrid brother Klaus. I love you as well.”

“First things first. I do not give you permission to slaughter anyone. Please don’t. Really. Don’t. No matter who they are, don’t. Consider it as my death wish. Please.” She begged with sincere eyes. 

“Moving on, Nik was always the most deadly one. Even when I didn’t know he was a hybrid, I could always feel this.. sort of.. feeling from him. He was also the most caring, the one with the silliest ideas,” She laughed. “I remember this one sloppy guy hit on me and groped me. Next thing I knew, Nik compelled him to dance on the table tops of the bar. That was one of the funniest memories I’ve had with him. But he was also perhaps the most sensitive.”

“Nik, I know you’re facing a lot of problems, and I’m probably out of my place to say this, but the fact that you’re watching this means I’m de–”

Kol resisted the urge to slam the laptop and throw it against the wall with all his might had it not been playing your beautiful face.

“–ad.” [Y/N] laughed it off. “So it doesn’t matter. Anyway, please try and trust your siblings and don’t ask too much of them. Even as original vampires, they’re still humans with hearts and emotions. As for you trusted ones, I won’t blame Nik if he stakes all of you if you betray him.” She simply shrugged.

“Next up.... Rebekah Mikaelson.”

“There are no words to describe how absolutely freaking perfect Rebekah is. With her golden locks and tan skin and have you seen her body? I have and it’s the embodiment of flawlessness. I won’t deny that I’ve always been jealous of Bekah and that she’s caused me to have insecurities, but I’m happy with and for her nonetheless. She is my sister and my best friend who I won’t exchange the world, the universe, anything for. Same goes for all of you.” She smiled brightly.

“For all of you men planning to hurt her, I will come back from hell and tear off your limbs one my one before dragging you to hell with me.”

“Moving on, dear Bekah, to put things simply, you are the angel of the family. You’re the most affectionate, most human, most motherly and the most flawless woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. Those shopping sprees you always took me on? I loved every single moment of them. Not because I come home with a lot of pretty clothes and jewelry, but because those were the times we got to bond the most without the idea of death looming over us. I love you so much.”

“Now, Hope.”

“Hey there you lil’ devil! I’m so sorry Auntie [Y/N] can’t be there for you physically, but always know that I’m there for you by heart and by spirit. Goodness, I sound like an old woman.” She laughed softly. “a few centuries has finally taken toll on me... Anyway, honey, you are the glue for the family. Even if I haven’t seen you yet, I already know you’re gonna be so amazing. It runs in your blood.” She smiled even wider and laughed even more. “One of my biggest regrets right now is the fact that I won’t be able to see you grow up into the spectacular woman you’re meant to be. For that, I’m sorry. So do your aunt a favor and bring home a hot guy alright? Don’t worry, I’m sure Hayley and Bekah will protect him.” She laughed once more.

“Speaking of Hayley, GOSH I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a brave woman aside from Bekah. She’s the type of girl who stays so selfless and courageous even through thick and thin. She’s the epitome of girl power. Hayley is a perfect role model for Hope, aside from Bekah of course. But I’m pretty sure Nik, ‘lijah and Kol wouldn’t like that.”

Kol could sense the slightest crack and pause in her voice when she mentioned his name.

“Hayley, I know that you’re involved in all the Mikaelson drama. But I do encourage you to stay. Because aside from all the awesome once-in-a-lifetime adventures you get to have, ‘lijah will be a mess if you don’t stay.” She laughed. “I’m counting on you to raise Hope well and fit to the social standards of today, ‘kay? I don’t want her being bullied just because she can’t use an Iphone.”

There was a long pause.

“Now, Kol.... Mikaelson.”

“Kol Mikaelson is....” [Y/N] couldn’t even start properly as she burst to tears immediately. She attempted to calm herself down but it only resulted to more tears.

About 2 minutes of the video were spent on [Y/N] calming herself. She ended up with red puffy eyes and a quivering smile.

“Okay. Kol Mikaelson is a hysterical psychopath. He is a playboy, the typical bad boy. The abomination.”

She took a deep shaky breath.

“Kol Mikaelson is the emodiment of imperfect perfection.”

“Kol Mikaelson was, is, and always will be the love of my life.” She took a shaky breath in. “And the most painful thing that I’m experiencing right now is knowing that I’ll have to let him go.” She cried silently in her hands, before staring at the camera with tears running down her face.

“Kol, love, I want you to know that I love you so freaking much. I love you to the stars and back times infinity. You have my heart always and forever. I can’t even bear to think about the fact that I’m never going to see you again without bawling my damn eyes out.”

“I love you so much, that I’m finally letting you go. Nothing hurts more than the idea of you leading a miserable life full of rage and rampage because of me.”

“So I’m giving you an order. After a few months, I want you to pick up a nice girl, flirt with her, and fall for her and live happily with her. I don’t think I need to tell you to make her fall for you as well. Also, be a good uncle to Hope.” She was crying more than ever.

“I’m going to be blunt. Giving you permission hurts like hell. However, like I said, nothing hurts me more than being the cause of your pain.

“So here’s my final message for you Kol. I love you so much. I love you so so much I’m willing to give you up for you to be happy. I love you so so much because you’re so handsome, hot, caring, affectionate, playful and so much more. You’re just perfectly imperfect. I love you because you’re you and there’s nothing I’d want more in the love of my life. Once again, I say it. I love you Kol Mikaelson. I love you. You are my paradox. And I love you.”

“For all of you lot, please, for me and for the sake of the world, don’t break up. You’re family, always and forever right?”

The video ended with a smile. However, there was static before showing a picture of the Mikaelsons with [Y/N] then a picture of [Y/N] with a pregnant Hayley.

"I am [Y/N] [S/N] and I am proudly a part of the Mikaelson family.”

The video ended.

Kol had his head in his hands, tears freely flowing on his face.

“I Love You.” Her words rang through his head.

He felt so much pain and sadness as he sat there. He felt so much regret. Why wasn’t he there for her? Why wasn’t he able to save her?

It had already been a few months, but he was far from emotional instability, much less emotional stability. 

However, he wanted to honor her request. So he stood up, flashed in the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face before wiping it with a towel. He took a deep breath and ran off to Davina with an aching heart.

(This is set immediately a little after Hayley is with the Mikaelsons. So basically, Kol isn’t supposed to be in town yet because.. Well... He’s dead. So basically, this is how it plays out. Reader dies during some sort of attack which I’m not revealing :P so reader actually dies before Kol is revived. When kol is revived, his first on his agenda is to go find reader but turns out reader is dead. So he watches the video over and over again (which he stole for a little while. Even so, Kol was forced to do the stuff he did with Davina because of Esther. So everything plays out as is. I’m sorry if I got the timeline wrong. But this is basically how it played out in my head)

(part 2? Anyone?)

(update: originally the the title was oxymoron but I thought that was the contradictory statement and so I concluded that paradox was the contradictory pair of words so I changed it but turns out I was right all along -.-’ )

[kiwi-le-survivant]

Kiwi-Le-Survivant’s Best Games of 2017 Post

I bought a PS4 this year, which means I was actually able to play five new games this year. It’s my hope that people will actually enjoy reading my thoughts, and soon I’ll be able to rival The Game Awards and announced Halo 6 or something right in the middle of my posts. Let’s jump right in.

Top 5 Best Games I Played That Came Out In 2017:

5. Tekken 7 - You know, I think I prefer Tekken to Street Fighter now. Although that might be a combination of me being slightly better at the former, coupled with Capcom having no idea what they’re doing lately. As shallow as it sounds, I think a big reason I love this game so much is the novelty of both a Capcom and an SNK character guest starring in a Tekken game.

Not as big on Noctis, though. I was hoping for either Kazuma Kiryu, or another fighting game rep. Although I guess you could argue Noctis represents Dissidia.

It’s at the bottom because the other games are so good. I hope they keep adding more content beyond what’s already planned.

4. Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony - Apparently opinions on this game are mixed among DR fans, mainly related to the ending. Personally, I liked the ending, and I feel the rest of the game is pretty much in line with the first two in terms of quality. I’m a fan of the new mechanics, like Debate Scrum and Psyche Taxi. The soundtrack is really good, too. I think everyone can at least agree this is a memorable game.

3. Yakuza 0 - I haven’t finished this one yet, but I’m told it’s a fantastic entry point if you want to get into this series. This is one of the few games I can think of where I actually willingly did sidequests, because a lot of them are actually funny, and even heartwarming.

2. Persona 5 - My most anticipated game of 2014, 2015, 2016 and 2017. I’m a big fan of Persona 3 and 4, and I feel this game is just as good, if not better. I greatly prefer the Tokyo setting to the rural setting of Persona 4.

From the art style, to the setting and music, P5 oozes style out of every orifice. In fact, you could make a case for it being one of the most stylish games of all time. I thought for sure it would be number one, but one game managed to top it.

1. NieR: Automata - I heard this game actually sold really well, and that’s great news. Imagine telling someone that the sequel to NieR would outsell the newest Mass Effect. It’s amazing what an extra layer of polish and removing or altering some of the more tedious aspects of the first game can do.

Honestly, I’m bad at explaining why the game is good. Just play it. I genuinely believe it will go down as one of the greatest JRPGs of all time, and that Yoko Taro can and should be thought of as the next Kojima. If you dismiss it as a Metal Gear Rising/Final Fantasy rip-off that relies on fan service, well, your loss.

Did I mention that both NieR games have strong contenders for best video game soundtracks of all time? It’s true.

This is pretty long, so I’ll include the rest of the awards under the read more.

Top 5 Best Games I Played That Came Out Other Years:

5. Kid Icarus: Uprising - I haven’t played this as much as I’d like, but I’ve greatly enjoyed what I have played. I don’t even really mind the controls, really. I haven’t used the stand yet.

4. Gravity Rush - I started playing this game a few weeks ago, and I already love it. Kat is one of the most likable protagonists I can think of. She should be Sony’s mascot. In all honesty, this is one of the most fun open world games I’ve played. The only thing I’d say is lacking is the combat, but it’s manageable.

3. Va11 Hall-A: Cyberpunk Bartender Action - A game about mixing drinks and talking to people, while trying to save enough money to avoid getting evicted. There are multiple endings, too. The one I got really got to me. 

2. NieR - I’d hate to say it, but for the longest time, the only thing I saw related to the game was the Zero Punctuation review, and I wrote it off as generic based on that. Thankfully, a few friends heavily recommended it, and since Platinum were doing the sequel, I figured “alright, I’ll check it out.” It turns out, generic is probably the worst word to describe NieR, and Yahtzee is an idiot.

NieR is a rough diamond, similar to Persona 3, or the original Yakuza. A game that has more than its share of flaws, but its originality makes up for them. The gameplay is, well, it’s no Bayonetta. It’s not even DMC1, but it’s there to serve the story and characters, which I found myself getting attached to.

I’d recommend playing this before Automata, if you have a say, but it’s not 100% necessary, and Square Enix could have made that option easier, so it’s up to you.

Check out @thathomestar‘s post about it, too.

1. Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc - I knew of this series by reputation, and it seemed like the fanbase overlapped a lot with other things I was a fan of, but I got spoiled on who the lead villain turns out to be years before I played it, and I thought some of the character designs looked unappealing, so I wasn’t sure how much I’d enjoy it.

It turned out, I enjoyed it a lot. It scratches the same itch as Ace Attorney for me. I like the characters a lot more now that I actually know more about them. Funny how that works. Except Hifumi. He looks awful, and is awful.

The second one is probably better in many ways (especially the protagonist), but I feel the first game has a certain humility to it. I get the sense that the developers didn’t think it would take off as much as it did, and some of the rough patches kind of add to its charm. I also think the ending was originally planned to be more ambiguous.

Also, I made at least one friend while playing this game. That’s a plus.

Top 5 Games I Want To Play But Never Got Around To:

5. Cuphead - I felt kind of bad for not having any western games on the last two lists, so here we go. Cuphead looks pretty fun, and I really respect how much effort and creativity went into the game’s visuals. It reminds me a bit of Skullgirls. Sadly, I don’t have an Xbox One, and I doubt my PC could handle it.

4. Sonic Mania - Like Cuphead, this is another labour of love. It was really nice to see people being positive about Sonic again for a few months. Then Sonic Forces came out, but oh well. In a similar vein, I’m also interested in the Crash N-Sane Trilogy, but since Sonic Mania is a new game, it gets the edge.

3. Super Mario Odyssey - Looks really fun. I’ve never played either the Galaxy games or 3D World, but from an outside perspective, Galaxy and Odyssey look like a lot more appealing to me than 3D World. Sadly, I don’t have a Switch.

2. NioH - I suck at Souls games, to be honest, but I find this game’s concept very interesting. I think I’d be into in a Souls game where I can play as an actual character, and not just a blank slate.

1. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild - Nintendo has impressed me this year. I think this is the first time a 3D Zelda game and a 3D Mario game have come out the same year. I like this game’s art style, and I’m told it’s a breath of fresh air to a formula that was getting stale. However, no Switch, and no Wii U, either.

Top 5 Most Anticipated Games of Next Year:

5. Kingdom Hearts III - Yup. This is definitely coming out next year. Always bet on Sora.

4. Red Dead Redemption II - I was kind of burnt out on open world games, but if this is even half as good as the original, it’s pretty damn excellent.

3. Dragon Ball FighterZ - I loved Dragon Ball Z as a kid, and if this game came out when I was a kid, I would probably say “holy shit!” and also “who’s Beerus?” I think this has the potential to make Arc System Works a big name with mainstream audiences. Then maybe we can get a Persona 5 Arena with graphics like this.

2. Yakuza/Hokuto no Ken thing - I never read much Hokuto no Ken, but this looks amazing. Right up my alley.

1. Soulcalibur VI - I just really love fighting games, man. There arguably hasn’t been a great Soulcalibur game since SCII, in 2003 (2002 if you only count the arcade release), so I’d love to see this series make a comeback. Put Cassandra in it.

If Devil May Cry V were announced, it would automatically be at the top of the list, but sadly, no. As for Bayonetta 3, I don’t think it’s coming out next year. With that said, while I don’t have a Switch, Bayonetta 3 is potentially a system seller for me.

[aurimeanswind]

Cold Breeze—Sunday Chats (11-19-17)

Another week, another Sunday

It’s been a long week for me. Not in actuality, because I’ve slept an average of 10 hours a day every day this week, which is both a good and a bad thing. It’s good because I’ve been sleeping crazy well. It’s bad because it reminds me of my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, of my sometimes inability to drag myself out of bed to do anything. It’s also a common habit I fall into when I know I’m depressed, and while I push back as much as I can against that overwhelming feeling, it’s still there. Ever-present. And it sucks.

It helps to know that the ExtraLife team, now disbanded, is definitely full of the melancholy. We all miss each other. Some more than others, assuredly, but there is just so much love an affection there. I think taking that step back in the aftermath of ExtraLife, the distance, the pride fills me more because of the tight bonds that were just driven home over that week. 

It’s full on Persona-style bonds. Maxed social link meters and unbreakable relationships that serve as tentpole and standing memories and gifts that we all cherish, equally. It’s a comforting feeling, in the sad/loneliness. 

But I digress.

It’s been very good for games! And I’ve sunk my teeth into some big ones this week.

What’s On Tap

Assassin’s Creed Origins

This is the really big one. I’ve spent about 25-ish hours with this title this week.

I love this game, which is super surprising. I wrote a big long thing about all the wild changes they made on this blog, so I’ll refrain from repeating myself here.

One thing I really love in this game is Bayek, the main character. The relationship with him and his wife Aya is just so good. They just fucking love each other so much and its disgusting but sweet and kind of nice. it’s this central bond that the plot swirls around and it’s really strong, unlike other AC games.

I also think the side quest quality in this game is remarkable. It reminds me a ton of The Witcher 3. While I don’t think the voice acting is quite up to that same par, it’s astoundingly excellent. 

I dont’ have many complaints about this game. I really just adore it. And I’m thankful to my friends Barrett and Youssef for recommending it.

Destiny 2

I’ve only been playing a bit here and there, with another playdate with Tony and Greg tonight. It’s been fun playing the game again though, and I’ve excited for the new content coming early next month.

Overwatch

I just wrapped up playing some Overwatch just now, trying out Moira.

Moira is excellent. She is exactly what the healing team in Overwatch needed, a new on-the-ground healer. I feel like Ana is just not an effective healer at all, at least on console where aim and precision is not as strong.

What I love about Moira is that healing is a resource for her, she needs to tap into it, and if you run out, you can’t heal anymore. It means you need to use her primary energy drain weapon, get out there, and be aggressive in order to be able to support your team.

It’s a lot like Doomfist’s shield, which he generates for using his abilities on enemies, and it requires him to use his skillset to then be a better and greater asset to his team.

Moira also heals herself with her attack, so she benefits herself and her own play style by being aggressive.

I really like her. She may take top spot as my primary healer, but I am also incredibly fond of Mercy’s new ultimate, so it’s a toss up. Much like all the many characters I play in Overwatch, it’ll depend on the situation.

Questions

Remember to look for my tweet on Sunday afternoons with the hashtag #SundayChats in it. Reply with your question, and you’re in here.

Let’s do this.

On a personal leve, because I don’t think 2018 will hit the same highs for me, I want there to be more surprises. Again, this is for me, because I think there were huge hit surprises this year for folks like PUBG, but I just didn’t have quite so many hits.

On that note, I hope those surprises come from smaller, indie games. Like I think that was a collection of titles that got lost for me this year because of the stellar AAA games that took the spotlight, but those weird and nuanced and special indie games are some of the best experiences I live for, and I hope with more room in 2018 I’ll be able to get lost in them.

Personally I just use the Twitter app on my phone, and I’m happy with it. Most folks I know swear by Tweetbot, but I’ve never really gotten to use it myself.

As for Desktop, it’s all about Tweetdeck. You can tweet from multiple accounts, and have just multiple timelines open it it. On mine I have a news story feed for games, my timeline, my mentions, my notifications, and then the IP notifications too. It’s the way to go, in my experience.

It was the greatest thing I’ve ever been a part of for about a dozen different reasons.

I’m excited to be able to relive it in the archived videos.

I’d love to visit Hyrule castle town either from Breath of the Wild or Twilight Princess. This is all pre-apocolypse, of course, but especially in BotW it seems like such an incredible and bustling place. I’d love to see the different peoples and cultures of that world melted together in that supreme beauty.

Another one is Hengsha from Deus Ex, because it’s the two-layer city, kind of like Midgar from FF7. I’d just love to see that in person. That’d be more of an architectural look, just to see that crazy design in person and up close.

Another would be Inaba from Persona 4. Just because that place is like a second home for me. I’d love to finally see it in person.

Hrm, that’s tough. I have a lot that I just need to boot up and get through at this point, so it’s likely the ones that I just know I’m not going to get. A big one is Night in the Woods. I’m determined to make Edith Finch happen, but Night in the Woods seems like a really special game that I’m just not going to get to.

That list of indie games is depressingly long for me too. Pyre? Probably won't get to it and I want to play that so bad. Steamworld Dig 2? I may not get to that this year. I’ll definitely play it but probably just not this year, and that’s such a massive bummer for me since I loved the first one so much. The Housemarque games this year too, since I loved all the times I played them in preview settings.

I do still have some time, and I plan on getting through a few good things between now and the end of December. We’ll see what doesn’t make it.

For me its a handful of titles that maybe Nabeshin has thrown out to me. I’d like to try Red Dead Redemption at some point. And 999. Those two are huge standouts, but outside of that, it’s hard for me to think of some franchise that I haven’t dipped my toes into at least a little bit with the given time. 

I should probably play Tokyo Mirage Sessions someday but we’ll see. Still have it sealed in the plastic wrap.

Man, this is so hard. Ideal is tough too, because maybe that implies I’ve been there?

The place I’ve always wanted to go my whole life is Ireland. Its the motherland right? It calls me back. That, and Japan. I’ve wanted to take the journey to the land of the rising sun since I was old enough to barely mutter JRPG. Those are the two places.

Let’s go.

So, for context, I saw Justice League last night and... I really loved it? Like, I loved everything about it?? I feel crazy, like I’m Greg Miller defending Batman V. Superman??

But I think if I saw it again or I took the step back, I could totally see why people dislike it so vehemently. I was honestly shocked because it... well, it felt like Justice League to me. It felt like it was out of an entirely different DC Cinematic Universe. And maybe my expectations were so low? I don’t know.

But anywhere, there are going to be spoilers in my response here, because Liza deserves the best response I can muster for this, since we’re JL believers.

YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

Boy when Superman shows up and is just straight up like, good, smiling, wise cracking Superman (again, a totally different character than he has been up until then, but I didn’t care because fuck I miss good Superman) I was just grinning ear to ear. They managed to tap into Henry Cavill’s charisma and make him shine as someone I could actually believe is Superman. And just seeing him work with a team and work with other heroes, like, that’s Man of Steel I know and fucking love, and they just nailed it in this movie. It made me so happy. You have no Idea. It’s like I’ve waited my whole life for that.

So yeah, he was my favorite, but I liked everyone! Any second Wonder Woman was on screen was perfect. They made Batman feel so much more like Batman here it was ridiculous. I liked Cyborg a lot, and I feel like they gave him a great arc from self hatred in the beginning to “wanting to live” in the end. Aquaman and Flash were just a ton of fun. 

For me it’s just under Wonder Woman since I thought they just nailed Wonder Woman so well, but I really really loved it, as I’m sure you could tell. I was just a happy kid grinning that my heroes were finally on screen together, and it was rad.

Haha oh my god okay I don’t think I can pick ten different fingers, but I was thinking about this when I grabbed the question. Probably like, someone who’s fingers have powers, like Emperor Palatine or something? I guess Cole McGraff would be the real world video game equivalent, but someone who would let me shoot lightening out of my fingertips. If I could just choose one then one of theres and then the others from all the characters in Until Dawn.

Because why not

#AgentOfChaos

Eh.

It’s fine.

Honestly, the lesson you shared with me Tyler has been a really great one. For folks curious, it’s about Mountain Tops. It’s a great analogy to the higher moments we find ourselves in in life.

https://twitter.com/acegiak/status/924762544383782912

That and one I’ve taken to heart over the last two or so years, which is just to listen, and to care, and to pay attention. You don’t need to interject your opinion in every controversial topic, and far too many people do. But that doesn’t exempt you from paying attention.

We don’t have anything concrete in the works, but we have a lot of ideas. I think PAX East is something to expect us at, and I think more written work in the future is something to anticipate soon too. Not more from who is there, but more and new voices. Exciting voices too, if we can muster it.

I’d totally be down to play Overwatch for 24 hours. I just love the loop of that game. I’d probably hate myself and it at around the 18 hour mark, but I think I could still muster it.

Least willing to do would probably be something best experienced in short bursts, like a Spelunky, or a Flint Hook, or a Cuphead, Some games require breaks and I think those fit into that fine. Doesn’t make them worse or bad by any means, but when you can walk away and come back better rested, those are good picks.

The Checklist

I have been essentially off reading stuff, but it’s worth shouting out a thing my best friend Jazz wrote today, about ExtraLife 2017.

http://brazenbebop.blogspot.com/2017/11/extra-life-2017.html

She is getting into the writing of the content, and I’m excited to support her and see what she comes up with.

I am tired again, but excited to finish some things I’m working on.

Thanks for sticking with me, and for the unending support.

And for taking care of me.

Much love.

Keep it real.

[miuplays]

Miu’s Games of the Decade

Hello all! Wishing you a Happy New Year wherever you are in the world! It’s already January 1st where I am, but I’m sure people are still counting down in other parts of the world. But anywho! I wanted to end the year with a celebration of some of my favorite games released this decade. The 2010’s have been an incredible year for video games, I think. With strides made in graphics, scale, and storytelling, I think this has been easily one of the most innovative eras on all fronts. I hope you enjoy this list of a few of my favorites, and hopefully some of your favorites are here as well! If not, make a list of your own and share it with me! I’d love to see some of your opinions.

But without further ado, on to the countdown…

2010 – FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS

This game, for me, set the standard for what every RPG game should be. From its worldbuilding, to character interactions and on-the-nose commentary, to the way it expands the Fallout universe both mechanically and through storytelling. Of all the Fallout games, this is the one that left the biggest impact on me, and it’s the one I still reflect on to this day.

Honorable Mentions – Bayonetta, Red Dead Redemption, Mass Effect 2, Bioshock 2

2011 – DRAGON AGE II

So I looooove Dragon Age. It’s, in my opinion, one of the best RPG franchises ever made, and this game in particular is easily my favorite in the series. The writing is at its best, and every character is so loveable that I found myself playing it multiple times just so I could romance everybody. Despite some structural issues in the overall story, I still consider it to be one of the most memorable in the franchise, and I don’t regret a single hour put into this campaign.

Honorable Mentions – Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Dark Souls, Portal 2, The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

2012 – DISHONORED

As RPG-heavy as this list is, I do wanna give some love to immersive sims. Another favorite genre of mine, and Dishonored is by and large one of the best. I found myself entangled in a number of sticky situations that I had to sleuth and stealth my way out of one too many times. Yet they somehow managed to make that the best part of the game. Player freedom and creativity are practically the foundation of this game, and it’s something that made this game not only an enjoyable and unique experience the first time around, but its replay value is through the roof. I do think that later installments in the series, as well as other immersive sim games like Prey, definitely improved upon this one in a lot of areas. But regardless, I still really enjoyed Dishonored, and I’m holding out hope for the future of the series.

Honorable Mentions – Sleeping Dogs, Mass Effect 3, Borderlands 2, The Walking Dead

2013 – THE LAST OF US

I’m sure you’re all surprised, but yes. The Last of Us is my GOTY for 2013, and possibly my favorite game of all time. Before playing this, I’ve never had a game put me in such a state of emotional duress for an extended period of time. Not even MGS3’s ending did what this game did to me. And even as I’m typing this, I realize that the technical aspects of this game—the graphics, mechanics, level design, etc.—aren’t what makes it stand out in my opinion. My favorite part of this game has to be the journey. The connection between Ellie and Joel (two characters so brilliantly portrayed by Ashley Johnson and Troy Baker). My love for these characters and my desire to see them succeed despite all of the hardships and challenging decisions they were faced with. That’s why I love this game. It is, for me, the most incredible storytelling experience I’ve ever had.

Honorable Mentions – Grand Theft Auto V, Tomb Raider, The Wolf Among Us, Injustice: Gods Among Us

2014 – BAYONETTA 2

The Queen has made it onto this list, and I have nothing but praise for the greatest hack n’ slash game ever made. Character design? Stellar. Combat system? Robust, intricate, and absolutely flaw-fucking-free. Improves upon its predecessor in every way imaginable and still remains as stylish and fun as ever? 100%.

If you haven’t played this game yet, please stop reading this and go play this game. It is… phenomenal.

Honorable Mentions – Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dark Souls II, Alien: Isolation, Tales from the Borderlands

2015 – THE WITCHER 3: WILD HUNT

What can I say about this game that hasn’t already been said, like, 9 million times…?

It’s legendary. Simply put. A flawless and unforgettable RPG experience that simply cannot be replicated. Also, I would die for Yennefer. And Ciri of Cintra is the love of my life.

Honorable Mentions – Bloodborne, Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, Life is Strange, Mortal Kombat X

2016 – HYPER LIGHT DRIFTER

The only indie game on this list, but its spot is well deserved. What has always set video games apart from other storytelling mediums is interactivity. Despite this, I feel like most games still rely on heavy dialogue and cinematic cutscenes in order to spin its narrative. Which is why I’m so appreciative of games like this, where art and exploration are key to understanding the world and the happenings around you. Hyper Light Drifter is a gorgeous game, with challenging combat and beautiful, stylish music and design that will have you feeling both nostalgic and mesmerized. Even in its quieter moments the game remains so rich and thoughtful, and even now it’s hard to decipher my feelings afterwards. A mixture of melancholy, delight, and solace. It’s a journey I thoroughly enjoyed taking.

Honorable Mentions – DOOM, Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End, Titanfall 2, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided

2017 – HORIZON: ZERO DAWN

This year was a solid year for games, which made this decision insanely difficult… but after a lot of deliberating, I decided to go with my gut. Aloy stole my heart the moment she came on the screen. She’s an incredible leading lady who’s strong, determined, complicated, and layered in ways that both intrigued me and that I could relate to. But beyond just my crush on the game’s protagonist, the scope of this game is just… fantastic. The way they mixed post-apocalyptic tribalism with futuristic technology, the physics of every monster you encounter being so dynamic that every battle feels viscerally intense, even just the combat mechanics and how much effort was put into designing Aloy’s bow and her diversity of combat options, I’m just so!!!! In LOVE with this game!!!!!!!

Honorable Mentions –Tekken 7, Uncharted: The Lost Legacy, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Butterfly Soup

2018 – GOD OF WAR

Yet another game that I’ve showered in so much praise that I don’t think there’s anything left for me to say about it anymore. This game is flawless for a number of reasons. Its meticulously crafted combat system, amazing graphics, beautiful character and game design, gorgeous score, and seamless transitions from action to story that make it feel like a film taken in one single camera shot are all key selling points. But what sold me on this game, and makes it my top pick for this year, was its compelling narrative. The story is one that’s very personal to me. I felt for them and their loss at the very start of the game. I resonated with Atreus and his struggles to connect with his father. And I understood Kratos’ inner battle with coming to terms with who he is and the things he’s done, and trying to be the father his son deserves. I related to these things, as they resembled all to closely the relationship I had with my own mom. God of War moved me in more ways than one, and I’m very thankful that this game exists. I felt like it was my own story being told on that screen as well.

Also… the boss fights are just so fucking fun.

Honorable Mentions – Spider-Man (PS4), Red Dead Redemption 2, Gris, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

2019 – RESIDENT EVIL 2: REMAKE

This may be a more controversial pick considering the amount of quality games that came out this year, and I know most of my viewers were probably expecting Control or The Outer Worlds to be here considering how much I hyped those games up. But in my defense, Resident Evil 2 was already one of my all-time favorite games, and this remake nothing short of a masterpiece. To me, it’s what every horror game should be. The atmosphere is dark yet engrossing. Every aspect of design, from sounds to levels to enemies, make this one of the scariest horror games I’ve ever played, all without relying on jumpscares, or grotesque imagery (although there’s plenty of that as well, it’s not what makes the experience so horrifying imo). It’s one of the most beautifully crafted survival horrors, while manages to improve upon the original while still remaining faithful to it. I consider it a masterclass in how to approach any remake. Capcom truly earned back my trust with this one.

Honorable Mentions – Control, Katana ZERO, The Outer Worlds, Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

And so concludes the list! I hope you enjoyed reading, despite how lengthy it got. I wanted to get out as much praise as I could because every game listed here deserves it. I’m in love with every single one, including so many more that weren’t mentioned. It was truly an amazing decade for gamers and game developers alike, and I’m nothing but optimistic for the future.

See you all next year.

– ミウ。

[kneesheee]

Stark Sibs

Noelani

WARNINGS: MILD VIOLENCE

It was a regular day in the tower as Selene sat around and watched movies in the common room. Her siblings including the recently added Pietro Maximoff Stark all surrounded her under piles of blankets and pillows and snacks and drinks.

Their dad was at a UN meeting discussing possible proposed additions to the accords. The kids were slightly sad considering it was a movie night and they were still slowly engrossing Vision and Pietro into modern movies and classics. They were a family that sometimes talked in movie, television, songs etc. quotes.

It really was peaceful moment in the tower for the young Starks. Then the renegades had to ruin it.

Immediately upon entering, Wanda tried her best to get the attention of Pietro and Vision. It broke her heart that her twin wanted nothing to do with her, but he had been watching from Olympus and he hadn’t like what he saw. No, she needed to make up for her actions and apologizing and begging for his and Vision’s attention won’t help. She needed to go to Tony himself.

Clint Barton stood to the side feeling uneasy as he gazed upon his newly discovered son. After being properly threatened by Francis, Laura, Tony, and F.R.I.D.A.Y., Clint thought it’d be wise to keep the information to himself.

Sam sat to the side watching the children all tense as Wanda continued to try to get close to her not-twin brother and Vision. He had blinked and missed the moment when Selene produced a small dagger. He didn’t know what to think about the look in her eyes as Wanda’s hands started to gleam red as her emotions grew wonky.

Scott stood close to the doors ready to escape the first second trouble brews. He had and currently has enough issues going on surrounding what Stark’s children dubbed renegades or his daughter’s, Selene, favorite idiotic bag of dicks that I cannot possibly wait to see fall from their makeshift pedestals for me to torture and kill and drown in their stupidity. He lost his daughter, he lost the girl, and he lost his hero title. He didn’t want to take the chance to lose his mind-or his life.

Bucky watched the proceedings as they slowly took a turn for the worse. Stark’s daughter (the little red head) and his son (the platinum blonde one) both wore snarls on their faces as Wanda drew closer. He could clearly see the distress coming off the android (Vision, they called him) and he didn’t doubt for a second that his siblings didn’t notice it either.

A growl escaped from the young dark skinned one. The Prince of Wakanda. It put them all on edge even Wanda who stood still at the sight of the electricity running up the boy’s arm. His eyes glowed with power and Wanda didn’t know if she would be able to take him on. Before a sneer crossed her features and she moved her hand to make him leave her alone, but a dagger flew dangerously close to her face being stopped only by the thrower’s will.

“Touch him and I will kill you,” Selene stated without emotion. Her eyes grew dark as she gazes upon Wanda. “I believe both of my brothers have constantly rebuffed your advances and more or less told you the only road to redemption with them is to apologize to our father.”

If anything, Wanda’s sneer grew fiercer never mind the small stab of fear she held. But she was Wanda Maximoff. She was the Scarlett Witch. She was handpicked by Captain America himself. She was an Avenger and she would not let a little girl frighten her. Especially not the child of Tony Stark.

“Why should I apologize to him when he murdered my family? When his murder bot attempted to murder my Pietro?”

Natasha knew things were about to go to hell when she saw the smirking playing on her daughter’s lips. Selene looked so much like her. James did also. If it weren’t close to impossible, she’d wonder if her doppelganger somehow managed to conceive them on their own. Like Queen Hera from the Grecian myths. Natasha remembered plenty of times the small mantra Tony used to say when he was close to collapsing with exhaustion. Stark men were made of iron. Maybe she’s just being biased, but her two children. Her beautiful baby girl and baby boy may look like her, but they were everything of what the Stark name represents. What she’d lie down and kill to have again. No, the elder Starks men may have been made of iron, but Tony and all of his children were made of diamonds. Beautiful under light, fragile in one look, expensive as hell and belong in bulletproof glass cages. It made sense for Tony to hide them from the world. He wanted to protect them even when they know how to hold their own. Even when they knew how to pick their battles. And boy, did they pick them and win. Like a true Stark in all but blood. Though she only known the children in whole for a few months, knew of the twins to be her children for two weeks, she’d help Tony kill anyone that dares look at them wrong.

She didn’t know she had spaced out long enough for Selene to have Wanda pinned to the ground. Natasha saw the way Selene could move in battle and noticed how she still seemed to hold herself back. She could remember a conversation she had with Thor and Bruce about Selene. How she was leader of the Stark Siblings only to be met with gentle headshakes.

“Selene’s a lot like Tony. She doesn’t trust herself to make the right call. She feels like she’d go into a battle and makes a plan and it’d go wonderfully. But she’d feel like she still did something wrong. If they came out with more injuries than just a few scrapes and bruises. If someone died or was injured. She’s not afraid to give her input, but she’s not the leader. She flat out refused and laughed in our faces when she was asked,” Banner had stated.

“Aye. If you want to pick a leader out of them, it’d be James. A brilliant warrior with a heart of gold. My Torunn tells me great things about him when inquired,” Thor agreed smiling a bit at the thought his daughter. He had taken her to Asgard as soon as he gained her trust to introduce her to her people. It was a joyous occasion especially when Sif (the strongest female warrior he has met) broke into tears at the knowledge of her. Even when his brother Loki looked upon her and declared her the most beautiful being across the nine realms whose beauty only rivaled their mother.  

“He’s every bit of the good man and leader that I thought Steve was. I didn’t necessarily approve of Tony teaching and training his kids to be heroes. I was glad I didn’t voice or show my disapproval to Tony. He was doing a good job with them. Honestly, I saw them in the labs more than the training rooms. Then I learned the truth about their origins and saw them fight in one of the stimulation rooms. James led them like a good leader. Francis and Torunn seemed to be his second in commands. Pym is their tech expert. Azari helps them remain calm and keep a clear head. Selene was Iron Man mixed in with you and Captain America. She sometimes derailed from the plan, but you couldn’t tell until the end when they commented on how it went. She kept everyone’s spirits high. But she fought like a bat out of hell. Pure strength and strategy.”

The conversation gave Natasha a lot of perspective when it came to the group and she could easily see their dynamics. They weren’t a team. They were a family in more ways than the original Avengers could ever comprehend. Though Selene was still a leader in her mind. It just showed when her dark side came out.

“You do not scare me, little girl. No matter what kind of powers you have,” Wanda continued not noticing the growing tension in the room. A burst of magic had Selene flying away, but she managed to flip mid air and just sit there. Wanda turned back towards Pietro and Vision not minding the dagger that flew back inches from neither her face nor the look shared between James and Selene.

Then Selene started laughing. A laugh that was filled with so much hatred that a shiver went down Steve’s spine.

“That sounds familiar. Where did I hear that from? I think it was something like I cannot control anyone else’s fear. I can only control my own. Tell me, Wanda, what do you call you actions against my father? When you stirred up his fear of losing those he cared about and he saw the Avengers dead? Hm, you control that fear of his. Or when your magic crept into his room every night and plagued him with nightmares so bad that he had to move out of his own home? You can’t control anyone else’s fear, but you did a damn good job at controlling my dad’s.”

Wanda turned back to Selene with a look of annoyance in her face. She was tired of Selene constantly bringing up Wanda messing with Tony’s head. Steve already forgave her for her actions. He let her atone for her mistakes, so what the point of constantly bringing it up. She asked Selene this aloud and watched as Selene’s lip curl up in disgust at her words.

“Steve doesn’t care about you. Allowing you onto the team was for strategy he said. No matter that you unleashed the Hulk into a city of innocent people. Controlling Uncle Bruce’s and Hulk’s fear of losing control,” Selene snarled. “No sweetie, I don’t where you got in your head that he gives a damn about you. He only cares about himself and Barnes. He hated Hydra. He fought against them for many years, yet in a single day or two... he outright forgives you? No, he had plan. Get the world to forgive you for your actions so that when he found Bucky, they would do the same for him. Let’s not mention the fact that he also wanted to use you for Bucky. Captain America doesn’t care for you. You are nothing.”

But Wanda was no longer paying attention to her. She only had eyes for Steve whom flinched at the heartbroken and betrayed look in her eyes. Steve had wanted Selene to stop talking. He was close to walking over to the young girl and making her, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move. It figures that any child of Tony would follow in their father’s footsteps, but he wouldn’t accept the bullying they were giving. He had hoped that Tony would have raised them better than him, but alas he could only hope. It was, however, a good thing he was around. He could teach them about respecting the adults around them.

“Steve, is that true?” Wanda’s broken voice pushed through his clouded thoughts.

“Of course not, Wanda. I’d never betray your trust like that,” he told her. But you did, the traitorous part of his mind whispered.

“You’re a lying liar who lies,” Selene stated unmoved.

Wanda nodded albeit a little dazed before she moved away from Pietro and Vision. “I-I need to go lie down,” she muttered before walking back towards the elevator.

The Stark Siblings said nothing though Pietro did look worriedly over to elevator. “Go, Pietro. She is your blood sister. You care about her and we care about you. Go comfort her,” Azari told him before paying attention the movie. Pietro sat for a few more moments before Selene stood up and threw him into the elevator with an “And don’t come back until you stop moping”.

Then grabbed Vision and threw him in the elevator also. “Let her know how you feel. She is in fact an adult, so she needs to have this conversation like an adult.”

Steve turned towards the Stark Siblings to let them know how he disapproved of their behavior when he noticed Natasha walking over to the couches and got settled to watch the movie.

“What’s this?”

“The Underworld movie series,” James piped up before stuffing his mouth with popcorn. Clint made his way to the group and sat on the floor in front of Natasha. Sam sat in one of the available arm chairs and Scott sat the furthest away from Pym he could get without being too far from the screen. Bucky cautiously made his way over and Steve noted how every child gaze immediately snapped to Bucky. Steve opened his mouth to berate them for the rude way they were treating Bucky just because their dad had a few screws loose in his head when they all shifted around to make room for Bucky on one of the couches beside them.

Steve made his way over to sit beside Bucky when all the children shuffled around again and there wasn’t any more room left for him except on the floor. He scowled at the disrespect, but said nothing as he sat on the floor in front of Bucky.

Everyone noticed how tensed the children were. They all noticed the scowls each of the children wore, but they said nothing because the children said nothing.

Then the Lang family walked in. Little Cassie squealed excitedly and raced over to Selene and jumped into her lap. And didn’t that break Scott’s heart. Selene looked fondly at the little girl before raising an eyebrow at her mother and looking pointing at the TV screen.

“It's no worse than seeing her dad hurt her Uncle Tony,” Maggie said sarcastically without even sparing Scott a glance even when he flinched from the jab. Francis snorted from his spot beside Selene and just stuffed his face with more popcorn. He looked up when his notmom-mom walked into the room. He really needed to figure out what to actually call her. She didn’t say anything as she walked over and placed his baby half-brother into his lap. Nathaniel smiled up at him and Francis is manly enough to admit that his heart melted into a puddle of adoration. Cooper and Lila crawled into James’ and Torunn’s lap and settled in to watch the movie.

“If they have nightmares, they’re sleeping with you tonight, Francis,” Laura told them as she walked into the kitchen with Maggie while her husband Jim walked to join the group and sat on the floor in front of Pym. Francis shook his head amused, but said nothing as he continued to watch the movie.

The Siblings were still tensed as they sat quietly and watched the vampire lady, Selene, kick ass on the screen.

“She’s definitely my inspiration,” Selene piped up. “We even share a name.”

James being the little shit he is replied with a, “I thought mom was your inspiration.” Selene glared at her brother and pointedly ignored the stare she got from her mother.

“My mother’s dead,” she deadpanned. She took no notice of the Natasha’s subtle flinch. Natasha suddenly gets children and her masks start to slip. “But trust me, if she were alive; I’d have a lot to say to her. None of it necessarily nice.”

James scowled at his sister. He knew what she was doing, but he shook his head and returned to watching the movie.

Tony walked into the room head buried into his StarkPad. He didn’t notice the occupants, but he vaguely remembers F.R.I.D.A.Y mentioning that his children were having their movie night.

Steve’s hearts skipped a beat at the sight of Tony. Honestly all of the renegades felt a flutter at seeing him. He avoided them like plague; he let up on them keeping their distance from the children. Though Steve felt that it was because he wanted to see them bully Wanda. It was a stupid thing to do and Steve had every intention to talk to him about it, but Tony never stayed around for too long.

Without looking up from his StarkPad, Tony stated, “Selene, can you please stop buying out thrift shops and turning them into your personal closets? Francis, you’re archery range in Wisconsin is finished. Torunn, Thor and Loki have managed to fit the doorway to Asgard on your floor. Azari, I’ve gotten in touch with Storm. She’s willing to meet you. I haven’t given her all the details though, so you can give her the truth if you want. Pym, your dad called. He sent over some schematics for you and Hope to look over. And James, your holographic watch is finished so you can do whatever with the shield unless you plan to keep it.”

Selene rolled her eyes before turning back to the movie. Everyone else noticed how the tension seeped out the siblings as they continued to watch the movie.

“Tony,” Steve called out breathlessly as he jumped up. All of the siblings’ eyes landed on him especially Selene and Francis. They eased the children off their laps. Tony froze his spot. Tension leaking out him in waves. He hurriedly made his way over to Tony before he was roughly thrown back into a wall.

Everyone turned to see Selene floating in the air again with a trident floating ominously beside her. Her hair flowed like the red sea and her green eyes turned stormy. “Don’t take another step,” she stated and it was an echo of other voices merging with hers. Cassie was huddled protectively into Jim’s arms as water rushed into the room. Laura and Maggie rushed into the room with their pants soaking wet and drops of water on their shirts. They didn’t know what to say as everyone look at the champion of Poseidon.

“What makes you think that you have the right to approach our father?” Selene questioned. “After you mercilessly tore him down, used his money and resources to find the murderer of his parents and didn’t tell him. After you shunned him for the creation of Ultron when your little princess, Wanda, was responsible for his birth? After you continuously berated him for not owning up for his actions when he was the one covering for all of you after every battle? When he sign the Accords to do exactly what you constantly asked him to do? After you’re little friend Scott over there climbed into his suit? You know how dangerous that was for both of them? Maybe it was after you decided to throw a fucking truck on his mentee, Spiderman? After your little girlfriend Natasha decided to let you go and Uncle Rhodey took a hit to the suit after your friend Sam dodged in the pursuit to get to you? After Clint over there had the gall to reference to Uncle Rhodey’s fall when Dad visited them? Was it after you had the nerve to try to lie to his face about knowing about his parents’ murder? Or maybe it was after Bucky tried to rip out the arc reactor? No, I think I know when you decided you had the right.”

“Selene,” James warned, but his voice was drowned out as the water continued to rush into the room forming a hurricane under her. When the water dropped from the ceiling like rain and burned on impact to Steve’s skin as she kept her eyes on him. Selene paid him no mind though she did feel the subtle shifts in the air as Francis tried to reign in his anger in.

“You’re scaring the kids,” Francis struggled out and waves of water caressed the children before carrying them out of the room. Another wave rushed over to her father and gently pushed him away from the room and eased away the panic attack that was building up. A part of Selene felt disgusted for using her powers to manipulate her father in such a way, but she would not let any of them see him in a moment of weakness.

“It was right after you went from bashing the shield his father made you in his throat to bashing it in his arc reactor and leaving him for dead in Hydra base in Siberia where he nearly froze to death for three hours if it weren’t for Vision and FRIDAY.” Selene’s words cut deep and all the adults in the room eyes cut towards Steve.

Francis’ anger seemed to escape his hold and before anyone knew it, the platinum blonde haired teenager was giving off a glowing light. The middle of his forehead had the crescent of the sun and moon like the Queen’s necklace from the movie Twitches. His eyes were like staring into an eclipse as gold and silver arrows and bow appeared on his person. There was a distinct howling of a wolf as his eyes landed on Steve.

“Thank Poseidon that Dad didn’t rely on the arc reactor to live anymore,” she deadpanned. Maggie, Jim, and Laura stared in horror.

The two champions’ energy seemed to feed off each other. James and Torunn both knew they needed to separate the two before someone ended up burnt to a crisp or drowned from the inside out.

Before they could make their move though, a familiar voice called out to them, “I am Groot!” The two champions’ whipped around to face the small sapling. “I am Groot,” he said again and the champions looked properly shamed. The auras faded away from around them and the two fell unsteady on their feet. James and Torunn help steady them.

“You gotta stop overusing your powers, ‘Lena and France,” Torunn scolded. She carefully placed her younger sister into the hands of their adopted step-dad. Selene smiled tiredly unashamed at her sister before cuddling into her step-father’s arms. “No promises, T. Hey dad.”

Peter look down fondly at his stepdaughter before shaking his head. “I’m not even going to ask. Mainly because I left my weapons on the ship.”

A laugh bubbled out of Selene and she relaxed even further. She turned her head to the side to see Francis pouting at being carried by Aunt Gamora like a damsel in distress but everyone’s afraid of Aunt Gamora so he didn’t say anything.

“Dad?” Natasha questioned. Her eyes went wide and she began to scrutinize the man. What did she see in him to have children by him?

Apparently, Steve decided to ignore everything and try to get his words out. “Fucking Christ, you think I don’t know that? I was- I was fighting for our freedom-“

“You were fighting for control, Rogers, don’t lie. Every action you made was based around having control of the situation. It was the reason you didn’t sign the accords. The reason you chose not to share the information about Zemo. The reason you never told Dad about his parents,” Azari spat, “you dragged your best friend into a problem he didn’t even need to be in, and he ended up in exactly the same situation he would have been in had you just taken up his damn offer at the start. But no- it had to be your way. Everyone called Dad a control-freak, but you, Rogers, you take first prize.”

               “Rogers? As in Steve Rogers?” Peter questioned aloud as he turned towards Steve. There was a look in his eyes that no one but he children could place.

               A flash of something crossed Gamora’s face before Francis was placed down. Selene was placed right beside him. Her infamed smirk crossed her features. “Oh, yes, dad. It’s him and the rest of idiotic bag of dicks that I cannot possibly wait to see fall from their makeshift pedestals for me to torture and kill and drown in their stupidity. Thinking that they were entitled to dad’s presence.”

               “Who are you,” Scott questioned hesitantly even as Gamora pulled a sword out of nowhere. The raccoon began muttering under his breath something about made us leave our weapons but she could bring her blade.

“Peter Quill. Star-Lord. One of the Guardians of the Galaxy. Husband to Tony Stark. Reinforcements for the battle against Thanos,” Peter stated but his eyes stayed on Steve. Steve, who looked a little heartbroken and mad, to hear that Tony went and got married to someone else.

               Someone else would’ve commented, but at that moment the wall exploded.