#anyway i was at chapter 49 for about a month | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creativepawsworld · 1 year

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Silence - Chapter 49

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x OC

Summary = Ana and Tommy spend some time together checking on business in London. Tommy drops an unexpected bombshell on Ana.

Warnings = Language...Grammar...mentions of brothels... guns...violence.

Word Count = 3210

Note = Hey, so it's been a hot minute. I don't know if people are even reading this anymore and if not I completely understand it has been neglected. I had covid and to be honest, sitting around feeling sorry for myself had me actually writing to stop being bored so, i guess it was a good thing. Anyway, if your still reading enjoy. 💙

I sat in the passenger seat next to Tommy as we drove to London. I had told the doctors at the hospital I would be gone for a few days. I was nervous to do so considering the stage of healing both my parents were at. My mother was at her most vulnerable, scared of most males that entered her room, only mumbling incoherently under her breath until they left. My father was traumatised, although he tried his hardest to hide it when I was around. He still relied on a pad of paper and a pencil to communicate. His tongue was still too painful to form a word despite the physiotherapy.

I couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving them when they needed me most. But I also felt I had neglected my relationship with Tommy long enough. I moved between our apartment and the hospital. Tommy moved to gather information needed to hunt down the Italians who did this to my parents and threatened me inadvertently. Both of us passed like ships in the night.

We had arrived in London before 10 am. Our first stop was at the docks in Camden Town to check on his shipment and Arthur. I watched as men unloaded boxes from the Shelby boats, my shawl wrapped tightly around my shoulders to shield me from the cool morning breeze. Tommy stood talking to a smaller man while watching the shipment arrive. I could tell from Tommy’s reaction that this was a man he trusted without question, he even smiled a few times during their conversation.

I walked slowly towards them, mindful of my step as the men set hard at work unloading the never-ending shipment. “This your lovely future wife to be Tommy?” The smaller man asked as I approached, his eyes dropping to my swollen stomach.

“Anastasia Adler” I offered my hand to him to shake but instead he kissed the back of my hand, removing the peaked cap he wore before putting it back on his head with a confident smile.

“Johnny Dogs.” He introduced himself and I nodded. I had heard the boys and Polly mention his name a few times. It was nice to finally put a face to the name. “When are you tying our Tommy down? Been a while since we had a good wedding mind ye”

“Oh, we haven’t really…discussed that yet,” I answered holding my shawl tightly.

“No?” Johnny asked surprised. “Good-looking lass like that? Tommy, you need to tie her down before another man comes.”

“All in good time Johnny, all in good time.” Tommy slapped a hand over his shoulder, whispering something in his ear before reaching for my hand. Once I had accepted he gently pulled me away from the dock and up the metal staircase where a man he referred to as Billy commented on how safe the shipment would be under his watch.

Leaving the docks we drove into town stopping outside a popular club I heard the boys talking about. The Eden Club. I instantly inhaled, this was that man Sabini’s club. Although I knew Tommy and the Peaky Blinders had taken it over, the memories of that man and the beating he ordered on Tommy came flooding back and it made me nauseous. It all started with Tommy, John and Arthur coming to this club a few months back. To me, this place screamed trouble. I didn’t care how fancy or popular it was. It was cursed.

As we walked through the long elegant hallway of the Eden Club I heard what sounded like skin slapping and grunts coming from somewhere. I walked behind Tommy, the noises becoming louder and louder. Looking around I spotted the source and sickness rose in my throat.

“Morning Arthur.” Tommy strode past his older brother fucking a whore without so much as blinking an eyelid. Arthur had his gun drawn thinking it was an intruder. “We are just passing.” Tommy sighed and continued walking. I held a hand up over my eyes as I hurried my step after Tommy.

I shivered at the image I was sure would haunt me for the next few weeks as Tommy entered a curtained drawn room, this place was darker. Moodier. I started to wonder if the Eden Club was also a brothel of sorts. It had what I felt would be the makings of one. A lot of soft furnishings, and almost pornographic paintings on the wall. Curtained off areas. The dark moody, intimate atmosphere. It would be a high-end brothel if it were one.

Tommy looked over the books as I walked around the room making my assumptions about the place. My thoughts were broken by Arthur coming into the room snapping his fingers and demanding a drink. He was partially dressed this time as he approached me kissing my cheek as a hello before sitting in front of Tommy at the table he had chosen to check the books.

“Whiskey Tommy? Arthur asked buttoning up his shirt as a waiter appeared with a large bottle of brown alcohol and a few glasses.

“No. I have a long drive ahead.” He inhaled on his cigarette his eyes not leaving the books. His lips parted to blow out a puff of smoke as he studied the numbers.

“You off home?” Arthur asked trying to make conversation. He looked over at me for a moment for an answer but Tommy was quick to answer.

“Eventually,” Tommy answered. I walked over to him, my hands resting on his shoulders and I started to rub them. I looked over at Arthur who smiled, his cheeks slightly red from what I had witnessed only ten minutes ago.

“To Birmingham then eh.” Arthur cheered the air. “Good ole Birmingham.”

“What’s this?” Tommy asked, tapping his middle finger on the paper. “Olives?” I sighed softly rubbing Tommy’s shoulders as Arthur explained what an olive was and the stick on which they sat making me chuckle.

I understood it was business, but I couldn’t understand the importance of the olives until I realised that olives were code. The conversation takes a more serious, darker turn. I remained quiet, standing behind Tommy I rubbed his shoulders gently.

“The home secretary is cracking down and I don’t need this fucking everything up. Do you understand?” Tommy asked in a harsh tone, a cold look on his face as he looked up at Arthur.

“I understand.” Arthur nodded, pulling his hair towards the back of his head before pouring another whiskey.

“People down here are scared of you Arthur. But if you don’t straighten up it’ll be John’s turn in London.” Tommy warned a serious threat laying in the undertone of his voice.

“No need. I can handle this.” Arthur shook his head. “I got this yeah.”

“Fucking tidy profit though eh?” Tommy smirked, at the money on the table. Arthur smacked it smiling back.

“It’s happening Tom.” Arthur nodded towards both his brother and myself. I didn’t know what exactly was happening but I knew better than to question it when they discussed business.

“Good. Make sure it does.” Tommy instructed as he stood up, nodding his head for me to follow as he walked towards the exit. “Straighten up soldier.” He yelled.

“See you later Arthur.” I smiled gently touching his shoulder before running off after Tommy. He was like a man on a mission trying to get through his business here in London.

******

We drove through a fancy housing estate in London. It was quiet, posh. I immediately felt out of place. Tommy pulled the car over on the side of the road, we had stopped outside what looked like a gated home. Tommy immediately pulled out his pocket watch, holding it in one hand. With his other hand, he pulled out a map from the side pocket of his door, placing it on his lap.

“Tommy, what are you doing?” I asked confused by his actions. If anyone knew where they were going it was Tommy. I always believed he had a built-in compass inside his body.

“Sir I am afraid you will have to move along. There is no stopping in this area.” An armed soldier came over to the driver's side of the car. Tommy looked up in acknowledgement.

“Apologies. I was just checking the map wasn’t I love?” Tommy looked at me and I smiled nodding. I didn’t know why we had to lie but it became second nature to me when it came to defending Tommy.

“Well move along, this is a no-stopping zone.” The soldier spoke nodding his head, his eyes falling on my pregnant stomach before stepping back allowing Tommy space to move the car.

Tommy handed me the map checking his stopwatch one last time before driving off through the wet streets of London. “23 seconds” Tommy commented turning the corner. I looked at him waiting for an explanation but received silence.

“What was that about?” I asked softly holding the map in my lap. “That is something to do with that file you hid in your desk the other day isn’t it?” I felt myself getting a little annoyed. “Is that why you brought me along? Use me to help cover your tracks?”

“The less you know, the better Stace. You know this.” Tommy spoke in a long drawn voice. “You trust me don’t you?”

“Of course I trust you Tommy but I also worry for you. We have a baby on the way I would hate to have to raise them alone.” I huffed looking out the window. Tommy sighed a troubled look in his eye as we pulled up to Ada’s home.

Over the weeks when Freddie died, I felt myself getting closer to Ada. I reached out to her personally via letters, which she happily returned. I had so much admiration for her. For her bravery in Garrison Lane when her husband and brothers went to war against Billy Kimber. To her strong, powerful way of raising her child after the loss of her husband. She was a pillar of everything I wanted to be.

Tommy and I didn’t speak again as we left the car. Knocking on the door, we stood in silence when a younger gentleman opened it catching us both by surprise. Ada hadn’t mentioned him in her letters to me.

“We’re looking for Ada” Tommy spoke hands deep in his pockets, his infamous stoic look on his face as the almost boy-like man took in his appearance.

“And who are you?” He asked keeping a calm exterior which I found rather impressive considering Tommy’s imposing nature and cold stare. But Tommy didn’t provide an answer, instead, he pushed his way past the young man and into the home.

“It’s her brother. I am so sorry for his behaviour.” I sighed following in after Tommy. The young man closed the door behind us as Tommy removed his hat and coat hanging it up and walked into the living room, hands still deep in his pockets as he greeted his sister.

Hanging up my coat, I caressed my bump following in after him with a small smile as I reached out to hug his sister. The young man comes into the living almost like he is ready to protect Ada from her brother.

“Who’s he?” Tommy asked sparing the young man a glance, standing before Ada with an annoyed expression on his face. Tommy didn’t trust anyone he didn’t vet personally and even then the trust was sparse.

“James rents a room” Ada answered in annoyance her brother would be so forward in front of the young man who hadn’t done a thing.

“You need to rent out rooms?” Tommy asked sarcastically.

“Actually she doesn’t charge rent,” James answered, causing me to furrow my eyebrows looking at Ada with confusion while Tommy stared him down.

“He’s a writer. Means he is skint” Ada chuckled sitting down, patting the seat next to her for me to take. I was glad to accept it stroking my baby bump as I did. Tommy had yet to take his eyes off the poor man when he asked Ada about the whereabouts of her son.

“What do you want Tommy?” I could feel the tension in the air shift at the mention of his nephew Karl. “Oh god before you start seizing him up for a wedding suit. He is not interested in me. Or of girls of any kind.” Ada smirked slightly rubbing my bump.

“Ada” James looked at her worriedly, Tommy’s gaze still upon him.

“What? Tommy and Ana won’t judge you. And he sure as hell won't go to the police” She sniggered and for the first time Tommy broke eye contact with him, choosing to look at something on the floor as he reflected on his sister's words.

“Look, I’ll go and get dressed” James didn’t make eye contact. With my emotions all over the place, I felt bad for him. He was outed in front of strangers which would have been hard for him I had no doubt.

“James.” Tommy sighed stepping towards him. “I’m Thomas. Nice to meet ya.” He extended a hand for him to shake which made me smile. James looked down at his hand, over to Ada then back to Tommy’s hand as he accepted the handshake. “And that’s Anastasia.”

“Nice to meet you” James nodded at me as I waved to him.

“Can I have a moment with my sister please?” Tommy asked calmly.

“Yes of course” James smiled taking in Tommy’s appearance. I could sense that he appreciated Tommy for showing him respect. The action alone had me biting my lip as I sized up Tommy from my position on the sofa, my sex drive was crazy, making itself known at the worst times.

Once James left, Tommy sat on a small armchair in front of us, clearing his throat as he looked around the room. He folded his hands on his stomach inhaling deeply as he looked at Ada.

So, does the lodger know your name?” Tommy asked causing me to roll my eyes. Here we go I thought to myself as I stroked my stomach.

“Yeah. Throne. You'd think I’d tell anybody anything else? “Ada answered “You Brummie boys are all over the papers. Just one last push eh? Then you’ll go legit. Just one more obstacle to get around? Then it’ll all be straight?” She asked.

“Actually yes,” Tommy answered in a bored tone making Ada laugh.

“Personally I find it quite amusing. Men like you are becoming very fashionable around here. No society party in London is complete without a gangster the girls go giddy for. No offence Ana.” Ada took a dig at her brother but it felt like my offence. Tommy looked down at his lap, thinking over his words which worried me. Something was bothering him. “Anyway, what is it that you want?”

“I’m about to have a child Ada. So I have set up a trust fund the beneficiaries will be my baby obviously but I want to ensure that Karl and John’s kids are looked after as well. But in order for Karl to benefit I need your signature.” Tommy spoke solemnly pulling paper from the inside of his jacket. I was speechless as I held my stomach looking at my future husband. What was he talking about? He was scaring me.

“I’ve set up an account where the money will be transferred in the event of my death” Tommy finished putting the paper on the table, then sitting back as if he hadn’t just dropped that bombshell. I felt sick.

Ada leaned forward taking the paper as I stared at Tommy who wouldn’t look at me in this moment.

“Are you sick?” Ada asked.

“I’m just doing what any ordinary man would. Putting my affairs in order.” Tommy answered so casually.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped feeling angry that he didn’t talk to me about this before coming to Ada. I leaned forward in my seat glaring at Tommy as he looked over at me. “You're not going anywhere, Tommy.”

Tommy looked down at his lap again, a troubled look on his face even though he tried to hide it.

“Do you hear me? You’re not going anywhere” I growled standing up, feeling the need to pace. My hands were shaking at the thought of losing him, tears settled in my eyes as I walked the floor. “I’m not raising this baby alone. I’m not.” I started to panic.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Ada tried to soothe me walking alongside me as tried to get me to recollect my breathing.

“Why would he say that? Why would you do this?” I asked in a panic, tears falling down my face. Tommy was never like this. What had changed over the last few weeks that had him thinking he was going to die?

“Stace, it’s only a precaution. I wanted to make sure you and the next generation of Shelby’s are looked after…” Tommy started to speak.

“This is all to do with that fucking file, isn’t it? What is going on Tommy?” I snapped. Ada’s eyes widened at the sound of me cursing. It was a rarity for me but I felt like this situation warranted it.

Tommy shook his head standing to his feet once more. He came to stand in front of me cupping my face into his hands as he rubbed the tears from my face. He slowly leaned forward kissing the tip of my nose.

“It’s a precaution. I will come back to you.” He promised looking deep into my eyes. His deep blues swirled with so many emotions it was hard to pinpoint just one. “We will raise this baby together.” He lets go of my face to hold my swollen stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this? We did I have to find out like this?” I asked tears continuing to fall from my eyes.

“I thought having our Ada’s support would help you understand better” He spoke calmly. “I wanted to show you that even without a husband you will be fine, looked after just like Ada.”

“We are going to marry Tommy you can’t…you can’t do things like this and expect me to react normally”

“It's just a precaution, Stace. Just a precaution.” Tommy repeated holding me close to his body.

******

That evening when we returned to Birmingham we stopped at the betting shop. Tommy went straight to Polly’s office to look at the financial gain from the day whereas I went straight to John who was looking at a book in the shared office.

“Alright Ana, how was London?” He asked offering me the cheeky smile he had.

“John I want you to do me a favour and I don’t want you to tell Tommy about it. Not yet.” I asked quietly checking over my shoulder for Tommy. “What is it?” John asked curiously. I exhaled loudly as I stroked my baby bump, thinking of the words I wanted to say. I needed to do this to protect my baby, to protect Tommy.

“I need you to teach me how to shoot properly.”

Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76 @midnightmagpiemama @pierre-gasssllyy @duckybird101 @muhahaha303 @thenattitude @dolllol2405

Anyone wanting on or off the tag list please just let me know 💙

#tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #silence #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby oc

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mamadoc · 5 months

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1, 2, 11, 20😊

1 - Talk about someone who changed your life.

Okay. I took far too long to think about this. Since we're all in a post 6x6 and TTPD era, here's a vulnerable, tortured answer.

I had a very close friend for several years. My husband and I were very close to her and her husband. Our kids were friends. We went to the same church, all loved to travel, had similar interests and tastes, had all lived internationally, went on double dates, etc. We even considered having them raise our kids if my husband and I both passed away. In sum, we were super close.

Then COVID hit. As a doctor COVID was difficult. I struggled a lot because I was taking care of sick patients. I recall one tearful day of talking to a pregnant mom who was about to be transferred to the ICU and was saying goodbye to her other children. It really wasn't safe or comfortable to go to work for a long time. I wasn't really dealing with it well, especially with the people around me treating it like it didn't matter. I was really depressed for the first time in my life.

This friend didn't understand that or if she did, she didn't care. So, when I said I wasn't interested in going out in public and having any type of birthday celebration for my birthday (who wants to celebrate turning 41 anyway?), she started attacking me on a personal level. I was already in a dark place and instead of being a good friend and supporting me, she just keep sending me hateful messages.

That was the first and only time in my life I considered suicide. I reached out for help and got it. I wasn't in that dark pit for a long time. I'm much better now. I mostly have my sister to thank for that.

I brought her flowers for Valentine's Day with an apology note a few weeks after that. She never apologized. I brought treats to her a few weeks after that with an apology note explaining why I felt so hurt. I tried to call to explain how I felt so that I could heal. She never answered the phone.

I'm still not sure what I have to apologize for or why she never seemed to accept or offer an apology. But that was two years ago. We still don't talk. Our husbands don't talk. Our kids don't play together anymore. For a long time, I didn't like going to church because I knew I'd have to see her.

Most of that is better now. I'm just sad for a lost friendship and for the dark place I had to crawl out of.

I've used a slight modification of her name for a character in one of my stories who betrayed Lucy. I thought that might be therapeutic, but it just brought the situation up to the surface again.

Uhhh... I can't believe I just wrote all of that. I'll try to keep the rest of the answers a bit lighter.

2 - Talk about something you really want to do.

I LOVE to travel. I've been to 47 states and 16 countries. My husband and I had all of our plans in place to get to all 50 states before we turned 40. Then COVID hit and all of our plans were dashed when travel shut down. We're going at a slower pace now, but we're getting close to it. #48 (NM) in October, #49 (HI) July 2025 as a 20th anniversary trip, and #50 (AK) the summer of 2026.

11 - Share something you're proud of.

According to AO3's stats, I've posted over 339k words since I started posting 7 months ago (plus another 9-10k chapter I hope to finish tonight). I know there are those that blow me out of the water (Ahem, ahem @girlintotv and @centralperkchenford) with their numbers, but I'm pretty proud of that as a first-time writer and working mom with 4 young kids.

20 - Share with us a random fact or two.

I'm afraid I've already overshared. *yikes* But here we go.

I'm the oldest of 6 kids. The first 4 of us are all 23 months apart, then 27 months apart, and 25 months apart. So, we're essentially every 2 years for 10 years with all of our birthdays clustered together. 3 boys and 3 girls.

I had the chicken pox for my eighth birthday. My grandparents came to visit for my birthday, but they were afraid of getting shingles. So, I had to stay in my bedroom on the second floor, and they stayed on the first floor for the whole time they were visiting. I still remember standing in the hallway near the dining room while they sang happy birthday. One of my siblings blew out the candles for me and my mom brought me a piece of cake in the hallway. (Man, I'm still rocking those depressing TTPD vibes, aren't I?) I was officially not contagious the day my mom came home from the hospital with baby #5 in our family, and I remember being so excited to be healthy enough to hold my baby brother.

Sheesh. Now you probably won't ever ask me anything again. Between TTPD, 6x6, and the angst I'm supposed to be writing right now, I'm coming up with some strange answers.

Sorry to be the Eeyore in the crowd. Thanks for asking me to play though.

Ask game

#ask game

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hournites · 1 year

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Phone Call

Thanks to everyone that was encouraging to me in the last few days about my writing. It means a lot and I managed to use my day off to get out of my writing slump. Here’s an excerpt chapter from my fic 97 Months, 9 Days, 1 Hour, 49 Minutes (and 43 seconds but that's getting too long)

~.~

Right as the muscles in her legs complained for a break, Yolanda jogged to her front steps after a long run with Artemis. She steadied a breath before entering, flicking her hair from her face. She took out her earphones and wrapped the cord carefully around her iPhone. Since working at the diner now directly contributed to keeping her family afloat, her savings fund for the AirPods she wanted doesn’t look like it’ll be growing anytime soon. In the back of her mind, Artemis’ voice barked out that she needed to be stretching to not pull a hamstring, but Yolanda was too tired to follow any more gym rat rules. She sighed, pulling the door open.

“I’m back from JSA training!” she called out, shaking her limbs out instead, overheating in her purple hoodie. It was still weird to be so transparent with her parents. Even saying the word ‘JSA’ out loud felt taboo. But as confused and—let’s be honest—concerned her parents were about her superhero stint, they’ve been getting better at trying to accept her as the Yolanda Montez she is. Not the Yolanda who they once expected her to be.

Nobody answered. Yolanda frowned, wandering around the house. Her whole family was eating breakfast when Artemis rang the doorbell this morning. She rounded the corner and smiled when she spotted her brother.

“Mom and Dad aren’t home, they went to the grocery store. Abuelita is at her eye appointment, they’re going to pick her up later. Your friend Rick called,” Alex told her, digging out a green apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen. Yolanda finished unbraiding her hair, catching the extra fruit her brother tossed over.

“Thanks.” She rubbed the apple against her hoodie. “Did he say why?”

Alex shrugged, already halfway out of the room.

Big help that was. She frowned, peering down at their landline. Why would Rick call her here instead of reaching out on her cell phone? She bit into the apple, thumbing at her phone again all wrapped up in the white cord. No messages.

Flopping onto her bed to make her sore muscles happy, she dialled his number.

“Hi,” she said without waiting for a reply, starting straight away with her burning question. “Hasn’t anyone told you that calling home phones is an obsolete practice and we’re not an early 2000s CW show?”

She heard his scoff over the line and grinned into her phone. “Seriously, you’re lucky my parents weren’t home. They’d start asking questions. Su novio la llama por teléfono? Yolanda, why didn’t you tell us? Blah blah blah. Embarrassing.”

Rick’s scoff cut off, his breath hitching with concern. “They don’t actually think…?”

Yolanda closed her eyes, dragging her hand over her face to physically prevent a gag. “No. No. We’re good. And if you text me like a normal person it shouldn’t be an issue. Anyway, what’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Rick said. “How was your day with Artemis?”

“Intense,” Yolanda groaned out, sniffing her shirt. She was going to need a shower and at least another five apples to satisfy her hunger after all the calories they burned. “But at least I didn’t pass out.”

“I was recovering from the hourglass, I was sick!”

Yolanda laughed and rolled over to Starfish correctly. “Whatever Hourboy. No, seriously. You call my landline, but don’t call or text me where you know I’d see it. That is sus.”

“It is not…sus…” Rick replied with large disdain for the word.

“It is sus, it’s the most sus and you know it!” Yolanda exclaimed. “What’s going on?”

“Fine,” he sighed, and Yolanda could just perfectly imagine the way he must be blowing hot air out of his nose, prepping himself to drop whatever bomb he was going to share. She’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and not brace herself for topsy-turvy news, but, well, Rick had a track record for keeping insane secrets. “I’m going to ask you a question that might make you mad and hang up on me.”

“Okay…”

“Were you in love with Henry?”

If not for the fact she was already on her bed, the swift turn of their conversation would’ve knocked her down flat. “Oh. Wow.”

She blinked fast, eyes trained on an old water damage spot up on the ceiling. Her stomach churned, resurfacing many conflicted tangled-up feelings that always arose whenever anyone mentioned her ex’s name. She turned to her right side, gazing at the framed picture she had of them that she’d put up and taken down more times than she could count. A part of herself wished everyone would divorce her from their last memories of Henry, another part of her was happy he hadn’t been forgotten. “Um,” she said eloquently, unable to offer up anything else.

“I know that’s personal,” Rick said in that touchingly gentle tone of his he pulled out once in a blue moon. “I was just… wondering. I was wondering.”

There was an uncomfortable silence over the line. Now, she understood why Rick didn’t text her. This would be prime screenshotting fodder if it had come through iMessages. If Courtney grew wind of their semi-regular evening chats, all of their posts would wind up on TikTok to be made fun of by millions of teenagers. Yolanda deserved her privacy.

“No,” she said after another pregnant pause. “I don’t think I was.”

“How do you know that?” Rick pressed, almost disappointed that she responded that way.

“Why?” Yolanda frowned into her phone. “Did you want me to be in love with him?”

“No!” Rick was quick to shout. “No, no! I mean…” Rick did not elaborate. He sighed and said, “Yes? Kinda?”

“And you’re sure you don’t secretly want to be dating me?” she half-teased, starting to second guess herself.

“Yolanda I will hang up on you.”

“Okay. Okay,” she muttered. “Just checking. You’re being weird tonight.”

“Too weird?”

“Not yet.”

She heard some shuffling on the other end, then a door slam. Yolanda wondered where he was and what he was up to. “Fine, so you weren’t in love. What makes you say that?”

“Because I hated him far longer than I could have ever loved him, and that hatred was so much stronger than anything I felt when we were dating.”

“You don’t hate Henry anymore though. I don’t understand that. Especially since…” Rick trailed off, but Yolanda knew where he was going.

“What, because I still think Cindy Burman is a bitch?”

“Your parents really aren’t home.”

She lifted her head up to glance out the window, those dark curtains stiff as ever. The driveway was empty with no car in its spot. “I’ve got another half hour, but yeah. Hating someone the way I hated Henry is exhausting. I think you understand that.”

“Yeah,” Rick replied with a sigh with so much weight behind it he sounded like an old man.

“Since I was in elementary school, Henry had always been someone in my life. A kid in my class. The football jock. The popular guy I had a crush on. My date buddy. My boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend. Now he isn’t any of those things. He’s just gone. I can’t stay stuck in the past over something that can’t ever change. He’s dead. It’s gone. I’m still angry about the photos and everything that happened but I can’t let it consume my life anymore. Not the way it consumed my mom and dad. I have to let myself believe that if Henry survived and he did apologize, we still would’ve gone our separate ways. But Cindy is still an active person causing havoc in our lives and refuses to apologize for the mistakes she makes. It’s different.”

“Do you need me to say something to Burman?”

“The last time you physically threatened somebody, an old man almost died.”

“Beth brought him back.” Yolanda could visualize Rick’s shrug perfectly.

“I don’t need you to do anything. Besides, it wouldn’t be genuine if she suddenly apologized to me after a visit from Hourman, it would upset Court and no offence but I don’t think she is scared of you.”

“What are you talking about? We can take her down and we know it. When has Cindy Burman ever won a fight?”

Yolanda rolled over to the other side at a knock on the door. Alex hovered outside her bedroom. She shooed him away with her hand but he didn’t budge, typing something out on his phone to show her.

CAN YOU FIX THE WIFI?

Yolanda glanced at her phone. Sure enough, she was now on her data plan instead of their wifi network. She groaned. “One moment, Rick.” She dropped the phone onto her bed and hauled herself up, the aches in her muscles on fire because she didn’t stretch as Artemis told her to. Alex followed right at her heels. Every time the wifi cut out, Alex would ask her to go to the basement to fix the modem. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself but he swore they had ghosts in the basement.

Yolanda never used to believe in ghosts but given her run-ins with the last year’s worth of impossible creatures, she’d been more willing to entertain his fears.

When she returned to the call, she was quick with the quip she was about to give. “When she slit Courtney’s hands and she ended up in the hospital?!?”

Rick was quiet for a long while.

“You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t about Henry, is it?” Yolanda closed her eyes, listening to her friend’s even breathing. His breath hitched and she waited and waited for the words to come, worrying they never would. Maybe picking up the phone was half of the battle. She could help him get the rest of the way there.

“Rick, it’s okay to have feelings for her. You don’t have to fight it.”

“It’s like I can’t breathe,” he admitted into the phone. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You have two options. You tell her or you don’t.”

“Yolanda.”

She rolled over on her bed. “Richard. I’m serious. Those are your choices.” Or, he could wait until Beth explodes and tells him she’s got feelings for him too, which seemed the most likely scenario with each passing day, but Yolanda wasn’t about to take that blow to his ego so soon.

She thought for another moment. “You could ask Barbara.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“No, for real. She’s been in a relationship with someone who has hurt her, but she also fell for Pat.”

“Yeah, repeat that sentence. She fell for Pat .”

Yolanda laughed. “We like Pat.”

“Whatever.”

“How did she know it was the right choice? There’s got to be a secret.”

“I don’t think there is a secret. I constantly want to impress Beth and be with Beth and do things for Beth. And even when I am focusing on something else entirely, somehow my brain always finds a way back to her. It’s horrible.”

She sat up on her bed, cradling the phone to her ear as her brows crinkled with concern. “Is it really that bad?”

He did another one of those Old Man Rick sighs and she cracked a grin.

“No,” he admitted.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it? Having a crush.”

“It’s…it’s weird, Yolanda,” he complained. “I’m not recognizing myself anymore.”

“I think that means you’re happy.” A chuckle left her, just imagining Rick moving on from his grouchy, touchy self. She paused. It was actually really nice to think about. “And you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think it’s more than a little crush. You two are really good for each other. She’s patient and she’s sweet with you, and she listens to you.”

“You’re listening to me right now.”

“Well, I bet Beth doesn’t roll her eyes.”

He doesn’t grumble at her and that’s all the proof she needed. “And I don’t see why she ever would when you talk to her like she’s the best thing God ever created.”

“I think you’re exaggerating just a bit.”

“Mmm…I think I’m not.” Yolanda looked out the window, checking once again for any sign of her parents. “So is this pep talk helping? I still think Barbara is better than this than me.”

“It’s helping,” Rick promised. The car pulled into the driveway and her brother yelled out they were home. “Rick, I have to go help bring in the groceries.”

“Sure. See you later.”

Yolanda sat up. “And Rick? About moving on and being happy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad one of us is able to.”

#stargirl #hn fic #rick tyler #yolanda montez #hournite #friendship #fluff

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shostakobitchh · 1 year

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hellooo everyone

I have had a shit month. work has been a soap opera, we had an emergency pet visit, and my sister got into a car accident. it has been, to say the least, stressful.

I'm not here to make this a pity party though - I'm here to let you know there will be a new chapter of aim & ignite up tonight :-)

sorry for the wait, it wasn't my intention to go an entire month without updating but when I'm stressed I cannot write at all. today, things finally seemed calm and it's stormy out (the best weather in which to write) and I wrote all of chapter 49. it's a little shorter, about 5k, and will not include the Snape Talking About Feelings Conversation because I felt it deserved it's own chapter (a great way to celebrate 50, with that one!) but it does have the Boggart.

anyway, I'll be back in a bit, I'm polishing it off and need to edit/proofread, but it's coming.

#sam speaks #aim and ignite #update

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room-surprise · 4 months

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Mushroom Spouse's DM Anime Episode Breakdown Predictions

This may have spoilers for the rest of the anime so proceed with caution!

My spouse gets really passionate about figuring out what manga chapters might get put into what episode, and so I coaxed them into letting me post their predictions, since they worked so hard on it. Anyway!

22: gryphon (47, 48, 49) 23: changeling mushrooms (50, 51) 24: What are we going to do about Falin elevator ride (52)

At this point, there should be a break before the third cour begins, I think 2 months? But we aren't sure. It's also possible that Trigger will put 52 & 53 together instead, however we're hoping they don't. Once the third cour beings:

25) 53, 54, 55 (on the 1st level) 26) 56, 57 (bicorn, dullahan) 27) 58, 59 (shapeshifter) 28) 60, 61 (winged lion, walking mushrooom) 29) 62, 63 (6 days, phoenix) 30) 64, 65 (unbinding the winged lion, dungeon rabbits) 31) 66, 67 (what's everyone doing?, Thistle backstory, Thistle goes to house. Falin eats curry) 32) 68, 69 (More Thistle Backstory, Laios and crew face Thistle.) 33) 70, 71 (thistle fight, laios talks to thistle, thistle tricks laios) 34) 72, 73 (Bye bye Thistle, huh what's the lion doing?, Kabru & the canaries show up) 35) 74. 75 (Marcille meets the Canaries, runs, unseals the lion. Mithrun fights the lion, Marcille becomes the dungeon lord) 36) 76, 77, 78 (Kabru lets laios escape, what's happening on the 1st level? Rearrange the dungeon, toshiro and namari run off) 37) 79, 80 (Marcille the dungeon lord. What does Marcille want from the dungeon? Marcille turns her back on the team.)

Stopping there for now, but that's what we've got so far!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #spoilers #anime #predictions #my stuff #mushroom spouse

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brown-little-robin · 4 months

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49: The Party

part one | previous | next | masterlist | ao3 version

instead of the first few paragraphs of this chapter going before the readmore button, I'm going to put a longer author's note. I hope you'll forgive the break from habit.

So, Strange Redemption matters to me a lot. I'm sorry about the often months-long breaks between chapters and grateful that many of you who've been here since updates were weekly have kept coming back. <333

In regards to future plans, I've noticed that it's easier to write Strange Redemption when I'm at low points personally. Easier to tap into Thad's headspace that way. Concern about that plus a healthier headspace plus the increased workload of my final year of college was what caused me to slow way down on writing and posting the story. Now that I have some breathing room in my life again, I've made the decision that I'm definitely going to finish at least the first half of my planned two halves of Strange Redemption. We're so close to the end of Thad's solo run!! We're almost there with him! I can hang in there until the end of this next story arc, which will conclude most of the story pretty well, in my opinion.

The second half of Strange Redemption I had all planned out to explore more original characters (some of you will know what I'm talking about—my darling clones Three through Ten). I honestly don't know if I'll write that half soon or at all, so I guess we'll find that out together! I have some great ideas for the hypothetical second half, if I do say so myself, but I'm restraining myself firmly from making ANY promises about it.

Thanks again! Back to the story!

Thad went to bed yesterday with vague fear lashing around in his head like wrestling metahumans, and he wakes up with the bones of that fear nestled in a lump in the back of his brain. He feels a plan forming. He lets it rest, that little lump of inspiration born of fear. Thaddeus knows how this goes.

He makes plans, because he’s a clone, because he was made to make plans. He ruins things because he was made to ruin things. He recognizes his own pattern.

In about a day, it’ll come to him. The Plan. The new Perfect Plan to dissect with CRAYDL.

Only this time, Thaddeus isn’t sure what the plan will be for.

It’s something about what he realized yesterday: that he should be afraid, and he isn’t. Something about that thing he found out on the computer at the library weeks ago: that being struck by lightning can change your personality. Something about how terrifying it was to forget his new name when he was talking to the maid, and to realize how flimsy, how fake it sounded in his mouth, Sophos Thaddeus Anacletus Free. It felt like nothing. Less than nothing, less than calling himself Bart.

Something… about that. Thad stares at himself brushing his teeth in the mirror and lets the lump of soon-to-be-Plan grow, shift. The imaginary form of the Plan feels more real than his body.

Thad puts on a green plaid shirt with hands that don’t feel anything. It’s reassuringly familiar, this sense of removal. It’s a relief not to feel like a person for a while. He can sense victory in the distance, and with victory so close, secondary things like his physical body don’t actually matter.

Joseph comments on Thad’s preoccupation at breakfast. He points at Thad and raises his eyebrows—a question without content, just what’s with you?

And if Thad was with CRAYDL, he would have smiled wickedly and said Wait and see… and CRAYDL would have said aww, Boss! And Thad would have laughed and ignored it and CRAYDL would have cajoled until Thad divulged Yes, I'm thinking up a new plan. I’m not telling you yet… I’m still working on it… I think it’ll be good, though… really good…

He comes back to the present moment and shrugs. “Just something.”

Joseph looks at him, waiting. Takes another bite of pancake.

It would be so easy to tell him. Just like CRAYDL. But—

But Joseph isn’t CRAYDL, and why does Thad feel so safe, anyway? A lightning strike can change your personality. The lump of fear twists, and Thad swallows and shrugs again.

“Clone… stuff, I think,” he lies. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The instant compassion on Joseph’s face is too much. Thad drops his fork and buries his face in his hands, suddenly overwhelmed.

He hates using “clone issues” as an excuse, he decides. It brings too much to the surface—things he’d rather stay down in the depths of him. His face is hot behind his hands, long lashes just like Bart’s brushing the palms of his Thawne hands.

Yeah, no. He’s not doing that again unless he has to.

Mortified for no good reason, he picks up the fork in his fist and starts eating again, avoiding looking straight at Joseph.

They finish breakfast in silence. Thad wishes Joseph would ask him again. Then he remembers he absolutely should not feel this safe around Joseph. Then he wishes it again, childish, selfish. He wants to be understood.

But they have ground rules, and one of Thad’s ground rules for Joseph was not to make Thad talk about being a clone. So Joseph doesn’t ask Thad anything else, although Thad sees his sea-green eyes tracking Thad anxiously.

Thad gulps down the rest of his breakfast and dumps his dishes in the sink with numb hands.

Thad spends the afternoon in his Plum room, drawing, unhurriedly putting his thoughts together into the beginning of a plan, and spacing out. He’s not sure how much he’s dissociating, but he thinks it’s a lot. The sun moves on the floor when he’s not looking and he finds himself stiff and sore from laying in the same position and has to move, wincing, to wake up his muscles and ease the pressed points of his bones.

In the evening, the guests arrive in ones and twos to Joseph’s party. Some fly, some are carried, others drive up the driveway. Changeling—or Beast Boy, Thad doesn’t know how the timeline has progressed this time—arrives as a cheetah. Thad watches from his tower window, scoping out the situation. His brain kicks into gear again, and he’s grateful for it. He needs not to be spacing out and losing time quite so much right now.

A little later, Joseph comes to get him. Thad pushes the scraps of plans even further back into his mind and smiles and nods and follows him downstairs.

Before they enter the study, Joseph stops Thad walking with a gesture. Thad stops and waits, looking at Joseph’s fuzzy green velvet vest instead of his face.

But Joseph’s hands don’t move in speech. The man clasps his hands against his chest, a strangely nervous gesture. Surprised, Thad looks at Joseph’s face. He looks worried.

Thad flinches. Worried—Joseph is worried about introducing Thad to his friends? Oh. Thad breaks eye contact, looks at the wall for a moment, then forces his eyes back to Joseph’s hands with all his strength.

Joseph signs, “Are you nervous?”

Thad shakes his head.

Joseph tilts his head at him, but Thad is already committed to the lie.

“OK,” Joseph signs. Then he puts his hands to his heart and smiles at Thad, crinkling up his eyes. “They’ll love you.”

Thad doubts it, but whatever. He finds himself smiling back at Joseph, charmed and amused by the hyperbole.

Quietly, so as not to be heard inside the room, Thad asks, “You introduce a lot of supervillains to your friends?”

“Lots and lots,” Joseph signs, grinning.

Thad rolls his eyes, making Joseph huff out a soft amused breath. “Whatever. Fine, let’s go.”

Thad slows time as he steps around the corner of the propped-open door to the study. It looks like the people here are comfortable, for the most part. Wonder Woman is standing at the window with her husband and the Gotham vigilante Nightwing. Nightwing is nothing to worry about for a speedster who knows what he’s doing, but Wonder Woman is a bigger threat. Danny Chase is cross-legged in an armchair, talking to Starfire, who’s sitting in midair in front of him. Neither of them is a threat, although Danny Chase’s intellect might be annoying to deal with. Cyborg is currently wrestling playfully with Changeling. Changeling is below Thad’s notice, no threat at all; Cyborg’s sonic capacities are to be steered clear from, even for Inertia. Raven—

Raven. Thad’s attention narrows immediately as he spots her, leaning comfortably on the back of an armchair. She’s already looking in his direction.

He pulls time to as near a halt as he can.

What will Raven think of him? What will she say? She reads minds, she’ll know about the Plan, she’ll know he’s lying to Joseph. The only possible hope here is that Thaddeus himself doesn’t fully know what he’s planning. Despite the immediate idea of pretending the Plan is something entirely innocent, an immediate image of Joseph bleeding out jumps to the front of Thad’s mind. No—no! He has to get a hold of himself. He’s not planning anything like that. Never. He’d never hurt Joseph Wilson. No more than he’d hurt Max, or Helen.

Maybe Thad is more nervous to meet Joseph’s friends than he thought.

Well, Thad wasn’t Inertia for nothing. He’s smart. He can do this. All he has to do is survive the introductions.

He lets time speed up again and steps into the room. Raven says nothing, just raises her hand and waves at him and Joseph.

Nightwing notices them enter a moment after Raven waves. He calls, “Joey!”

Everyone pauses their activities and looks over. Thad freezes, but none of them are looking at him in this instant. Every face in the room beams to see Joseph Wilson. They love him, Thad realizes with a shock.

They really love their “Joey”.

The old jealous void in Thad’s chest roars to life. He wishes he was like Joseph. He wishes he could step into a room and have everyone love him immediately.

Joseph’s hand comes down on Thad’s shoulder. It’s warm and settling. The void clutches at the sensation of physical touch, then settles down again. Thad feels it thrumming in him, a current of safety and surety tied to Joseph that the speed force put into him like pouring electricity into a wire.

Joseph lifts his hand. Thad clings to the memory of the touch.

“This is my kid, Thad,” Joseph signs.

Thad looks quickly out at the room to see their reactions.

Joseph’s friends nod and smile. A few of them—Starfire, Nightwing, Changeling—say “Hello” in cheerful tones of voice. Danny Chase raises an eyebrow. Raven smiles.

Thad doesn’t know what to say in this situation. The urge to chirp “Hi!” like Bart would occurs to him and he squashes that impulse with extreme prejudice. Instead, he adds some more identifying information.

“I used to be Inertia,” he says.

“Yeah, we heard,” Danny Chase says, bluntly but not unkindly.

Thad shrugs at him. “Redundant information never hurts.”

“It does if it’s boring.”

“Oh, stop, Danny,” Starfire laughs. “Just because you’re bored doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

Danny snaps back, and conversation starts again all over the study. That’s it, then? That was the introduction?

Joseph gestures Thad to go further into the room. Thad takes a few steps forward and stops, unsure where to go. Raven, watching him, makes a come here gesture.

Thad obeys, because not going will just make this worse. At least Raven is alone, and at least he’s familiar with her, more familiar than with the other people here, anyway. “Better the devil you know”, as they say in this century.

Joseph’s quiet, bright presence behind him soothes Thad’s worst fears. It’s like having CRAYDL looming there. Support. Someone here who likes him. Trusts him.

“I’m sorry you’re afraid of me,” Raven says softly.

Thad grits his teeth. He hates interacting with a mind reader. He can’t argue with that.

“I’m fine.”

“I know,” Raven says. “Don’t worry about me, Thaddeus. I’m not going to say anything about you.”

Really? What about the Plan?

“Really?”

“Nothing at all. I promise,” Raven says. She unfurls herself from the back of the armchair and holds out a long, black-nailed hand.

Thaddeus shakes her hand firmly before she can take it back.

Then he smiles. Maybe this party will be survivable, after all.

#the strange redemption of thaddeus thawne #our boy is relapsing a little bit but he'll be okay I promise <3 #next chapter will be painful though! stay tuned <3 (halo emoji here)

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cookiecomics · 5 months

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Hi! ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

6, 22 and 62 :3

6. What's the last line you wrote?

Technically the last things I wrote for the previous two months are all for zines that aren't fully out yet fsdkjhkjf so technically my last pubic line was this.

It falls quiet before Goro adds. “You also promised you wouldn’t leave.” Ren stares. “As far as I’m concerned your word means nothing to me.” 

Look forward to my lovely Supernatural CW AU :3 from the free-to-read zine @akeshuakeauzine coming out on the 28th of this month <3 <3

I'll also be back to writing ATOTT next month :3 so :3 look forward to that :3

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I agonize over titles, both for my chapters and for fics at large. I want the chapters to have their own individual identity and tell the reader more or less what to expect. So if my brain cannot come up with anything I will look to my favorite shows or animes for inspiration. For example, "You are My Friend" chapter 22, is a reference to a Naruto Opening Song. Chapter 27 (too lazy to check) "Thanks I hate it here" was me being frustrated over the Okumura arc lmfaooo. And I came up with "A Tale of Two Tricksters" when originally it was supposed to be just "Trickster Games" until I thought to myself "It's not really a game...it's more of a tale..." and that's how that title was born.

One of my zine fics "No Rest for the Wicked" is the title of the finale of season 3 of Supernatural :3 I always pick titles during the outlining stage and adjust as needed before publishing. If it doesn't stand out, tell the reader what the chapter is about or just sounds good to say (Shout out to How to Trick a Trickster) then I don't want it as a title :3

62. In A Tale of Two Tricksters, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

I'll have to give it to Chapter 49 and this scene is shown in this comic right here. I love Cognitive Akechi, I love love love what he represents and his dynamic with Goro.

The entire of chapter 49 was just such a roller coster and it had all my favorite things. Drama, FutaGo Sibling pain, RyuGoro interactions, a chase sequence and Cognitive Akechi acting like john wick lmfao. I'm not kidding i went to see the new john wick movie for inspiration on how to write Cognitive Akechi going after Futaba lmao.

Also my favorite disses all come from cognitive Akechi.

Like when he got ran over, THIS is what he comes back and tells Futaba.

"“Cute. Got that idea from Mother, did we?”"

Not to mention the above comic and what he says to Ryuji.

"“Pinched a nerve did I? Which parent never loved you?”"

Like what is wrong with him. Anyways Cog Akechi was short-lived but man oh man, did i love writing him. I love reading about him. He brainrots me hard.

That is all :3

#atott asks

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shibe-myths · 1 year

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hi, i've a question about the player-characters age:

So you can choose the general age your body looks like (is assumed, anyways?), there are three ages, a young teen-ish one, a adult, and a middle-aged set-- how will that play in with the romances?

*very interested* esp since some of them already have children, like, how would the vibe be if you're closer to their kids age instead of theirs-- let me pick ur brain pls pls pls

<3<3 TY FOR POSTING THIS AND SHARING WITH US, TYSM BTW <3<3

My ask box deleted my reply when I tried to press send!! I'm so sorry if this is shorter than you wanted! I'm gonna fight god for that shit. Lmao, but thank you for the ASK ANON! I love answering these kinds of asks! Lore is my fav thing to babble on about.

If anyone is curious, this ask is in reference to this one

As a recap, in Lich Gate, you have the option to choose how old your MC physical appears to be out of three options (listed below). It’s never going to be confirmed how old the actual MC is until after the demo.

Young (late teens - early twenties) | 18 - 23/24)

Adult (midtwenties - early thirties) | 24 - 30/31

Middle-aged (early thirties - late forties) | 32 - 49/50

The youngest an MC could be is 18, while the oldest an MC could be is, I want to say 48 or 50? I haven't checked chapter 11's code in a hot minute. Either way it's a good Three decades.

The youngest Ro, Lace is 22 - while the eldest (nonimmortal) RO is 44. Likewise, there is over two decades between them.

Currently when it comes to ROMANCE, the ROs do have preferences when it comes to age, looks, gender identity, sexuality, and personality. So, there will be some ROs that have soft blocks for certain ages (You can still romance them, it just takes a bit more.)

Romances age gap difficulty: Lady B: Young (Harder to romance), Adult/Middle-Aged (No issue) Bernie: No Age Difficulties. Laz: No Age Difficulties. Amyntas: Young (Harder to Romance), Adult/Middle-Aged (No issue) Bishop: No Age Difficulties Indigo: Young/Adult (No Issue), Middle-Aged (Harder to Romance) Perierat: No Age Difficulties Asha: Younger(Harder to romance), Adult/Middle-Aged (No issue) Lace: No Age Difficulties Ribbon: No Age Difficulties Stranger: No Age Difficulties.

You can still romance them, despite the age gaps. It just might take a minute.

When it comes to your other question. You'll find the answer down below:

Only LadyB, Asha, Lace, and The Stranger have children.

Asha has one child:

Whose name is being chosen in THIS poll (11 | ☿) The beloved child of Asha, whom she would burn the world for. A drake with bronze-blood. They are mischievous and witty. With a penchant for drama.

Lace has two children:

Sybilla Wynehaus (1 | ♀) The first bastard born to the manwhore. She and her half sister were left for Lace to raise.

Dulce Wynehaus (6m | ♀)The second bastard born to the manwhore. She was left for Lace to raise only three months before the start of the game.

Lady B has eight children:

Grand Commander Dihya Inanna Springsea (20 | ☿) The bastard child of Lamis Bashar, Dihya Saltsea was barred from ruling the Sultanate of Iibereli. That has not stopped them from rising through the ranks of the Military.

Sultana Mara Imelda of House Bashar (17 | ♀) The eldest triplet born to the former Sultana Lamis and her ex-husband, Myron Atlow. She rules Ibereli under the steady hand of her maternal aunt, Lady Inanna.

Heir apparent Noor Adama of House Bashar (17 | ☿) The heir to their elder sister, Noor balks at the confines of high society. Oft times found wandering the wastes outside of Saltus in search of Gold and Glory.

Master of the House Qadir Iman of House Bashar (17 | ♂) The youngest of the triplets, Qadir is set to marry the Heir of a foreign land, Edalehan. In preparation for this situation, Qadir has been given the job of Palace host.

Ser Anansi Summertide (11 | ♂) Adopted son of Lady Lamis Bashar. He is training to become a knight in service of his older sister, Sultana Mara.

Lady Orisa Summertide (5 | ♀) Adopted Daughter of Lady Lamis Bashar. She is training to become a lady-in-waiting to her older sister, Sultana Mara.

Asra Harvestfell (3 | ♂) Twin of Isra, born to Lady Lamis during a drunken one-night stand. Asra lives with his siblings in Saltus.

Isra Harvestfell (3 | ♀) Twin of Asra, born to Lady Lamis during a drunken one-night stand. Isra lives with her siblings in Saltus.

While the Stranger has MANY more (A solid fifty+ - Only two of which belonged to his WIFE)

[Redacted for spoilers]

Since most of the Children born to the Parent!ROs are still, children. Your ask only really applies to The Stranger and LadyB. And by GOD I would want to be a fly on the wall for THAT conversation.

Just off the top of my head: LadyB's children's opinion on a Young!MC romance:

Dihya: Immediately clowns on their mother for being a cougar. Mara | Noor | Qadir:

The Stranger's Children's opinions on a Young!MC romance:

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jasmine-tea-latte · 2 years

Text

I posted 916 times in 2022

51 posts created (6%)

865 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@juldooz-atla

@risemaclay

@cynical-mystic

@barelyaware

@perfectlypanda

I tagged 908 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#zutara - 499 posts

#zuko x katara - 447 posts

#zuko - 212 posts

#katara - 195 posts

#not atla - 130 posts

#ooh this is pretty - 60 posts

#atla - 55 posts

#avatar the last airbender - 51 posts

#avatar: the last airbender - 49 posts

#zutara week - 46 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#this is why i love fire lady katara. not only bc she would bring new ideology to the fn but bc she and zuko are great rulers together

My Top Posts in 2022:

delicate - chapter 18

In which Katara unleashes a display of power to save the Fire Prince while keeping her promise. But in doing so, lines are crossed that can't be uncrossed...

FYI, I updated the tags, and while I tried not to make anything too graphic, some parts at the beginning may make you squeamish. Nothing like Stranger Things' Season 4 levels of graphic, but still reminiscent in a way.

Lastly, you're not going to like me for this cliffhanger (but just wait until you see chapter 19's - y'all are going to be MAD.)

Anyways, without further ado... enjoy!

36 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

delicate - chapter 14

In which Katara and Zuko join her family for a dinner at the Beifong’s, where their pretend courtship will be put to the test against the living lie detector known as Toph Beifong…

AKA, the chapter in which Toph and Suki channel their inner Rachel and Phoebe to figure out what these two pining idiots in denial are hiding, like in the episode of Friends when they find out about Chandler and Monica.

“They think they can mess with us? The mess-ers become the mess-ees!”

(technically Chandler’s line but who’s keeping score?)

and of course:

While poor Sokka (who’s both Joey AND Ross in this scenario) just wants food and for this to all be over with, because this is his best friend and his sister 😩

See the full post

43 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

let’s go back to the start

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36708718

Aang could only stare, rendered speechless as he watched his most loyal companion who he’d given up mastery of the Avatar State for - his forever girl - choosing to side with the Fire Prince instead.

It was all too clear now exactly where Katara’s true loyalties lied, and they weren’t with him.

~*~*~

Or, Aang finally awakens onboard a strange ship a month after the fall of Ba Sing Se to a new world, one where both the Avatar and a traitorous Fire Prince have been declared dead by the Fire Nation.

Now, the pair have no choice but to put aside their differences to form an uneasy alliance. The Avatar must learn to finally let go of his attachment to Katara, while the Fire Prince finds himself surrounded by former enemies who’d just as soon see him dead...

Sequel to Taste of a Poison Paradise.

50 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

When the ZK antis are trying to spread their toxicity yet again but you're too busy living your best life shipping ZUTARA and having ✨FUN✨ unlike those lame haters:

So the next time you hear "iT's NoT cAnOn" just tell them to SMILE and thank them for letting us live in their minds rent free for 15+ years 💜

(and yes, I redid the gif from the OG post because that's been bugging me all this time ahahahaha)

53 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I am now the proud owner of Zutara mugs 🔥🌊

Behold!

(Hot Leaf Juice not included.)

111 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#are we surprised that I was Zutara trash again this year?#no we are not #year in review #tumblr2022 #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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hazbincalifornia · 2 years

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Family Business

Chapter 49: Blitzo considers things with Loona, talks with his employees, and makes a very important horse.

Ao3 link

“So you’ve got tits now from some kind of spell the guy just forgot to shut off?”

Blitzo cracked his neck, settling down on the couch next to Loona. “Yep. They’re gonna have milk and everything, so at least I won’t have to worry as much about formula and shit. I was raised on the good stuff, so junior here will be too.”

“...Right,” Loona said. After the rush of emotional openness had worn off, she had fallen back to a guarded, dry tone, but it was certainly still something that Blitzo would take, especially considering she wasn’t slamming him into things anymore. “And it’s not going to like… leak off you, right? I don’t want to ruin any of my bras with your weird magic baby milk.”

“Of course not!” He paused. “Maybe. Probably. I think he would have mentioned that.”

She shifted away slightly before groaning, kneading her claws into the couch cushion. “Fuck, this is such a mess. I can’t believe you just said you’d take it!”

“Oh, trust me, I’m terrified too, honey, but we’ll get through this together, the three of us- or four.” He paused. “Or six, with M+M. Can’t count them out. We’ll have our own rooms in the new apartment, though!”

“How is this even going to work? I’m not going to stay home babysitting,” Loona half-growled with a layer of frustration baked into the words. He’d been able to piece together that she’d often been forced to take care of some of the younger hounds until her ‘aggression problems’ got her off the hook, and he shook his head.

“I’ll figure out something, promise,” he cooed at her. “I’ll probably take care of them in the apartment for the first month or two, then I’ll find a way to bring her to work so she can learn how to be a good assassin someday like her daddy. There were some neat playpens I saw in the magazines that big bird let me leaf through, we could keep her in my office most of the time.”

“Right,” Loona muttered. “Which means it’ll be a problem for me too.”

“We’ll work it out sweetie,” Blitzo said, with only the slightest of visible grimaces. It wasn’t like it was a bad point that ‘wanting the kid’ and ‘knowing what to do with them during work’ were two different things, and he was loathe to shove any extra work on Loonie when she hadn’t asked for this either, but he’d made his bed and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to find a way to turn it to something worth sleeping in. “I’ll make it work.”

There were a few hesitant knocks on the door that made both of them turn their heads.

“Are you… alright?” Stolas called out.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Blitzo replied.

Stolas eased the door open, and Loona immediately started growling, teeth bared and ears falling back on her head. Stolas immediately took a step back, raising his arms before Blitzo tugged at Loona’s arm.

“Sweetie, please don’t bite him, we still need him.”

“Look, I’m not biting you, and you said he’s into that shit anyway, so-”

“Do we need to get the chewboy?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, we do not-”

“So you can be a big girl and use your words?”

“I’ll go,” Stolas said hurriedly. “I don’t want to stress either of you any further-”

“No, no, it’s okay-” Blitzo started, before Loona cut him off.

“Fuck out of here.”

“I need to check on Via anyway.” Stolas barely reacted to the words besides his eyes flirting over to Blitzo for a moment before he ruffled his hair. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Blitzo had started to stroke down Loona’s back, the muscles tensed again until she glared at him and he raised his hand away from her. “Sounds good. We need to arrange the moving shit anyway.”

“See you later, darling,” Stolas said. “If there’s anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out.” He closed the door, and Loona slumped down.

“The fuck was that about, sweetie?”

“Look, all this shit is a lot to process at once, alright, Blitzo? Excuse me for being mad you lied to me.” She scrubbed at her eyes before sliding off the couch and heading for her room. “Wake me up for work. Or don’t, I don’t care, you know how to use the book.”

“...Okay,” he replied quietly.

Hey, at least she wasn’t causing property damage, so he could still chalk this up as a win. She’d come around.

Now, it was just a matter of passing along the good news to the rest of the work family.

______________________

“Excuse me, sir, you fucking what?”

“Hey, it’s my life I’m tossing in the blender, not yours, so can you dial down the volume a little?”

Breaking the news had gone about as expected, with Moxxie currently pacing like his chair had insulted his mother and Millie looking between the other three with a grimace.

“Blitzo, you really-”

“Yes, I really said it, no, he didn’t brainwash me or whatever. I want this.”

“This is the…” Moxxie counted on his fingers. “ Third time you’ve changed your mind in so many weeks! I know that we were getting used to the idea of dealing with the baby before, but for a few days I thought-” Blitzo’s tail whipped in front of Moxxie at stomach-height, the shorter imp giving out a grunt as he paced directly into it. “Hey!”

“Moxxie. My sweet little baby-dick. You think I didn’t think about this?”

Moxxie took a step back, brushing at his middle. “No offense, sir, but when do you think through things?”

Blitzo threw an arm over his forehead. “I’m wounded, really!” He set his other hand on his stomach. “I wouldn’t have come to the conclusion that I want to be a baby-dad if I wasn’t serious about it, considering I had a pretty damn good ticket to drop her off with a bow and never have to think about her again if I didn’t want to. I now have approximately one month to get my shit figured out before the issue gets really pressed and there’s more screaming around here than usual. Sure, it’s not much, but it’s better than a lot of other sink-or-swim scenarios your sweet and talented boss has been in before, so between my quick thinking and the shitton of baby-helpy stuff that tall dark and nerdy dumped on us, we’ll manage.”

“Back on the ranch, Mama and Daddy had us workin’ pretty much as soon as we could walk, even though it started with the easy stuff,” Millie chipped in. “Especially up here in Pride, it wouldn’t be a half-bad idea to get them started early since they’re gonna need to know how to kick some ass, ‘specially with the kinds’a clients we can get.”

“That was what I was thinking,” Blitzo said, snagging a marker with his tail and popping the cap open as he walked over to the whiteboard. The smell made him gag for half a moment before he shook it off, stretching up to his tiptoes to write ‘how 2 deal w babie’

-Train 2 kill ppl

“It’s a start! I’ll probably have to take a few more weeks off once she’s shoved out, since even someone with as quick a recharge as I have will probably be down for the count for at least a bit. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“We’ll be alright, we’ll just have to take a few less jobs without our fearless leader,” Millie said. “But Blitzo, are you really sure about this?”

“Oh, don’t go having second thoughts on me too, Millie,” Blitzo said, crossing his arms, and she raised her shoulders in a half-shrug.

“I’m just sayin’, you have changed your mind a few times.”

“Incorrectomundo.” He pointed the tip of the marker at her. “I have changed my mind exactly once. I thought Stolas was taking the kid, then I felt like shit about the thought I’d have to do it, and now I don’t because I want her. Any other existential crises that happened between those points are none of your legal business, missy and mister.”

“Crises?” Moxxie raised an eyebrow, and Blitzo mimed a zipped lip.

“Like I said. None of your beezlewax. I’m keeping the kid and I will find a way to not have her fuck with business. My personal life is my problem.”

“Not when it might mess with the business,” Moxxie grumbled, but his eyes shifted over to Blitzo’s belly. “Are you… sure you’re okay, sir?”

Blitzo had started adding another note to the board, but had only gotten as far as “Use leash” when the marker stalled as Moxxie’s ‘sir’ sounded slightly wobblier than usual. “Yeah. I’m fine. Like I said, I’ll figure this shit out and we’ll be right as rain.” He shifted his arm over to the side and started a new list. “You know what, team-building exercise: Who wants to help come up with the name this poor squirt is going to be saddled with for at least their first dozen years or so?“

Millie’s hand shot up as he turned on his heels, and he grinned.

___________________

“Son of a bitch,” Blitzo grumbled, dropping the bundle of wool after he’d pricked his finger on the needle.

Between the four of them, they’d come up with a respectable list of about thirty names, intermittently crossing off and adding more as they bickered back and forth on what would be too cruel to saddle the poor kid with. (Moxxie had vetoed Mixxie in particular as being ‘very weird’, which was a shame, because Blitzo had kind of liked that one. It was supposed to be a nice gesture. Currently, Rodette and Peanut were high in the running, but he’d have to try out a few more)

Now, he was working on stabbing his way into a passable horse doll for Loona. She deserved one after last night, and after a moment’s thought, he pressed his fingertip into the black wool, allowing a droplet of blood to absorb into it. She’d probably love that goth shit, and he could say that he literally put blood and sweat into it. Let it never be said that he didn’t know his daughter.

A flash of gray hair, a pair of red eyes, a tail that matched hers… there, and with some extra wool to spare. He held the little horse up, examining it from every angle with a pleased hum before setting it aside. Getting up out of his chair had become more of an ordeal after the past few weeks, so he’d give it to her when he was forced to get up to piss or something. For now, it rested on his desk next to the Stolas one that he hadn’t bothered to tuck back into his drawer yet.

Blitzo pulled out his phone, starting to scroll down Sinstagram. Boring, boring, cool-looking video of a horse that he watched repeat a few times, boring… idly, he thumbed over to Stolas’s account to see when he’d last updated it. Hmm. After that one of a calendar from the stupid-ass ‘postman and envelopes’ full moon, he’d taken a selfie of himself before their cafe meetup a while back when he’d given him the tea, and there was a picture of him and his bitch of a wife with the kid standing in front of them that had just been put up recently.

In it, Stella was clutching his arm so hard the veins in her hands were practically popping out of the skin. Stolas… Blitzo had never seen him look that stiff, stress lines visible underneath his eyes and beak pressed into a thin line that might have passed for a smile if you were both drunk and high. Meanwhile, Octavia was slumping forward, looking slightly away from the camera and wearing something too bubblegum pink to legally be anything but an eyesore.

Blitzo tilted the phone- when the light hit it just right, it looked more like she wasn’t avoiding the camera as much as she was pointedly avoiding looking up, at the precise angle to entirely avoid her dad. He drummed his fingers on the desk before the pinkie brushed the unused wool from the Loona doll, and he looked between the photo and it for a moment before reaching for his needle again.

#one time #title may have been slightly inspired by a musical song #shadow writes stuff #helluva mpreg #daddy blitzo

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pbaintthetb · 2 years

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Fic Writer Ask: 2, 17, 37, 49 :D

2- Time Travel (11) Character Study (9) Master of Death Harry Potter (9) - back in the pre pandemic days ugh Then I have a bunch more of tags that have been used 8 times so I'll stop there. I was surprised at time travel then I remebered that TKTK was all posted seperately so, also I'm a sucker for time travel.

17- highly specific au- to write, my heavily deathnote musical conceptual english sound track deadset au. (I dare you to find anything more specific than that lmao) it's about 60% written atm. To read- I know i started it, but actually a waterset down au of like, any fandom but especially MDZS. Look the world needs NMJ as a rabbit but I'm lazy so I just wanna read it

37- I lowkey wish "Trees in November" got more attention, like I love it, I spent a while on it and I get why it's not super popular because nothing really happens, but I really really liked it rip. It has vibes tm. Sure it's pretentious but I liked all the weather symbolism and it was fun finding something for each month of the year to represent NHS' grief and discovery. Also, perhaps unsurprsingly, I'm lowkey a fan of fics with limited plot but big character vibes

49- I'm working on too many things cry, this is why nothing is being posted but have a bit of "Drinking Games chapter 13" aka JC POV:

Jiang Cheng’s thoughts are twisting and turning.

It had been easier- to square up in his mind that is- when the Golden Ghost was Wei Wuxian. When a bad person had been a bad ghost who did bad things but had personal loyalty- and was still dumb enough to think that Jiang Cheng would forgive him and that Wei Wuxian owed him anything.

But Nie Huaisang, someone who was weak, and not meant to be evil- or dead- someone kind- not kind.

Nie Huaisang was a fucking dick, and anyone who said otherwise was a liar, but Jiang Cheng liked him anyway. Kind of- or wanted to like him. It-

It’s not important anymore because Nie Huaisang is dead. The man’s not a man but a Ghost. While Jiang Cheng had thought he’d been protecting Nie Huaisang, looking out for him over the years, Nie Huaisang was already dead.

Thanks a lot for the ask :-)(-:

#ask #mdzs #fic

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tired-truffle · 20 days

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Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.5k

Part 49/54

"I will not mention the last time I saw you.

My mouth, so far from yours, I said I am afraid I will spend entire years trying not to need you.

As if I wasn't certain.

As if this wasn't my confession." - Clementine Von Radics

Song for this chapter: All I Want by Kodaline

Masterlist

Gwen's fingers curled around the cool, wooden handle of her cane, another reminder of her new reality. The once-nimble feet that had danced across the entirety of Ferelden now shuffled with uncertainty across the stone floor of the Haven Chantry. Each step was measured, a battle against her own body that rebelled with sharp aches and pains.

"Take it slow, Gwennie," she muttered to herself, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, hidden beneath the bandana. She missed Darcy, missed his easy teasing and positivity. She’d hated that damned nickname at first, but it had grown on her quickly. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the corridor, bouncing off the high walls before being swallowed by the tapestries depicting the glory of the Chantry. But glory felt like a distant memory, an echo from a past life where her body obeyed her every command - unless otherwise corrupted by the Calling.

Her new cane clacked against the floor, punctuating the silence that filled the space between her laboured breaths. Each click was a sign of the fragility that had become her constant companion, a dark cloud that loomed over her existence with unforgiving persistence. Her grip tightened as she paused, a wave of exhaustion washing over her, threatening to pull her under. She was grateful that Leliana had given her a tailored glove, one that omitted the pinky and ring finger on her left hand. Instead, the leather was stretched smooth over the bumps of her missing fingers, and if one was not looking for it, it simply appeared as though she had curled those two fingers into her palm.

"Gwen?" came a gentle voice, breaking through the fog of fatigue.

As Gwen's heavy eyes fluttered open, she was met with the concerned gaze of two Inquisition healers. Their faces were etched with a mix of professional concern and genuine compassion, their hands clasped tightly in front of them. She blinked, realizing belatedly that she had no memory of how she had arrived on the path toward the training grounds. With a deep breath, she straightened her spine, bracing herself for the inevitable conversation that was about to take place.

"Sit, please," one healer suggested, gesturing to a nearby bench, carved from ancient oak. Gwen complied, the act of lowering herself onto the seat feeling like a small surrender.

"Is this about my… prognosis?" Gwen asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. Leliana had told her the healers would look into it once she’d started recovering from her wounds.

"Indeed," replied the other healer, her brow furrowed with sympathy. "We have consulted with the most learned among us, and..."

"Say it plain," Gwen interrupted, her light grey eyes hardening like flint. "I know my own body better than any."

“Your time is… limited,” the healer said softly, her brows knitting together. “We estimate you have only weeks - maybe a month at most.”

A heavy silence settled in the air. Gwen regarded them both, her gaze unwavering, face devoid of surprise. She had felt the creeping shadow of death's approach, a familiar foe lurking just beyond her sight.

"Everything hurts, anyway," Gwen murmured, her voice barely a whisper, a bitter acceptance threading through the words like a shadow she couldn’t shake. It was not a cry of despair but an acknowledgment of a truth she had long since accepted.

"Is there nothing—" began the second healer, but Gwen held up a hand to stop them.

"Save your potions and prayers for those they can still help," she replied, her words imbued with a quiet strength. "I've made my peace and I am… tired."

The healers nodded, unable to mask the sorrow in their eyes. They murmured their farewells and retreated, leaving Gwen to the solitude of her thoughts. They were kind women, to feel empathy for someone like her. She had always liked healers, and their dedication to doing no harm. Though her friend and healer had passed, Wynne’s voice - gentle but firm - rang out in her mind nonetheless.

Though your body falters, your spirit remains strong. Savour these final moments - watch the sunrise, enjoy simple pleasures, share your wisdom. Gwen could almost picture Wynne’s soft smile, the crinkling at the corners of her knowing eyes.

She sat there in silence, her body heavy with the weight of the news. It wrapped around her like a suffocating shroud, threatening to choke out any hope or fight left within her. But deep inside her chest, a tiny spark of defiance flickered to life. She might be dying, but she was not ready to give up just yet. With a determined grunt of effort, Gwen pushed herself to stand, her cane serving as a sturdy pillar of support. She straightened her back and set her jaw, determined to face whatever remained of her days with the same unwavering stubbornness that had seen her through countless trials before.

"I’m not done yet," she whispered to the gusting wind, her voice carrying the faintest hint of mischief. Gwen did not walk towards the light gently; she would rage against the dying of it with every step she took.

The sun dipped low as she navigated the uneven dirt path, casting elongated shadows that seemed to reach for her, as if the very darkness she battled within was manifesting outside as well.

"Lavellan," Gwen called out, her voice stronger than her body felt. Gwen hurried to catch up to the elf as she emerged from the apothecary, her long, sun-kissed hair intricately braided and cascading down her back. With each step, her hips swayed in a rhythmic motion, reminiscent of Zevran's graceful movements.

The Herald turned, and her gaze softened, a nearly flirty smile on her lips. "Gwen, I am glad to see you up and walking, though I think we’ve gotten past the point of last name formality, don’t you? Please, call me Ash."

"Thank you… Ash.” It felt strange to speak with such informality to someone she had just met and knew little about, though the Dalish woman seemed just that sort of person. “I've come with an offer," Gwen continued, her grip tightening on the cane. "I want to accompany you to Redcliffe. I know the castle's halls better than any map could show." And how to plunder the office, but Ash did not need to know this.

A flicker of surprise crossed Ash's face, quickly replaced by a thoughtful expression. "You’re not well, Gwen. You shouldn’t be straining yourself like this," she started, but Gwen cut her off with a determined shake of her head.

"Use me for what I know, then. My body may fail me, but my memory is still strong."

Ash studied her for a moment longer before nodding, a bright smile forming on her lips and pulling at her scars. "Very well. Your experience could be invaluable."

Gwen saw the pity hidden behind Ash's cheery façade. She knew her argument was thin, but she would take this kindness - pity or not - and wield it like a weapon. She had her reasons for wishing to leave Haven, though she was reticent to make them known.

"Thank you.” Gwen inclined her head, letting Ash return to her duties. Gwen continued on her walk, there was one more person she wished to speak with, though strictly out of curiosity.

Gwen's feet carried her towards the soldier's training grounds, a bustling hub of activity nestled among a small grouping of tents. The scent of sweat and dirt filled the air as soldiers sparred with each other in fierce combat or honed their skills on worn dummies. Sunlight filtered through the sparse clouds, casting a pale glow over the scene. Weapons glinted in the light, flashing and gleaming dangerously, thick plumes of smoke rising from nearby fires. The sound of clashing weapons and grunting exertion echoed throughout the grounds, it almost made her feel at home in its chaotic familiarity.

Standing tall and strong amongst the soldiers, her target stood out like a beacon in the sea of men in uniform; Commander Cullen Rutherford. He exuded an air of authority and power, standing with his chin held high and his shoulders squared. With the determination of a dying woman who had nothing left to lose, she approached him.

“Commander,” she said from behind him, causing the stoic man to whirl around, his eyes wide with surprise to see her standing there.

“Miss Gwen, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

She scrunched her nose at his formal greeting. Miss Gwen? The words sounded stiff and unnatural, like an overly polished marble statue. She couldn't remember anyone ever addressing her in such a manner before. From him, it seemed to be a sign of respect, but it still left her feeling uneasy. Especially since their first meeting had been filled with suspicion and disgust on his part. It was hard to believe they had come this far, with him now using such formalities with her. She almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, but instead, she focused on keeping her face neutral and composed.

“Nor I, you.” Though she did not mean it in the same way as he did.

Understanding filled his gaze and he nodded. “If I had met me ten years ago, I wouldn’t have either.”

“You’ve been keeping well then? No more ranting about slaying all mages in existence?” She was much too exhausted to use any tact. The Commander had the decency to blush, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that reminded her terribly of Alistair’s bashful tendencies. She forced that thought to the back of her head, calming the churning longing that rose in her throat.

"No, I have thankfully moved past those shameful ideals, though it pains me to say that it took much longer than it should have.” He sighed, shaking his head and dropping his arm back to his side. "You were right. About what you said to me… during the Blight."

Your hatred will not keep you safe. The words had escaped her lips without thought or hesitation, fueled by a surge of courage and righteous anger. She could still feel the intense heat of his furious eyes boring into hers, but now she couldn't remember why she had dared to challenge him. Whatever had possessed her to so boldly speak to him was still a mystery, buried in the depths of her subconscious like a hidden treasure waiting to be unearthed.

"Was I?" Gwen feigned forgetfulness, though the memory was etched into her like one of her physical scars. The horrors of the Ferelden Circle still haunted her, the stench of death and decay heavy in the air, the gruesome sight of countless bodies too much for even a strong-willed rogue like herself to bear. "That was lifetimes ago."

"Still, I wish I had heeded your advice, I was a fool not to. It might have spared much pain," he confided, his brow creased with regret, jaw clenched.

"Do I look like someone who lived a very successful life?" Gwen gestured to herself, the bandana hiding her marred face, the cane supporting her weakened frame.

He blanched, stumbling over words until finally, he managed, "You’re a hero. You saved us from the Blight. That is a success."

"Maybe," she replied, her lips twitching into a tired smile. "But if you would like any more advice from someone with too many personal regrets; don't wait."

A look of bewilderment crept onto his face, causing his features to scrunch up in confusion. He turned to Gwen, searching for answers, but she only nodded subtly towards a nearby scene. Ashvalla, her braids swaying with her animated gestures, spoke eagerly with Cassandra, her back turned to them.

Understanding dawned on Cullen's face, a flush creeping up his neck.

"Good luck, Commander, it was a pleasure catching up." Gwen chuckled, leaving him with a pat on the arm.

“Wait, uh, I don’t— I mean to say—” He cut himself off with a frustrated grumble, shaking his head as if to disperse his improper thoughts of the beautiful elvhen woman.

Gwen shuffled away, her laughter lingering in the air, mingling with the clinking of armour and the distant echo of soldiers shouting. As Gwen moved through the courtyard with the slow grace of falling leaves, felt for a moment like a ghost of her former self, haunting the world of the living with unfinished business.

The reality of her condition - a body failing, a life fading - was a constant companion. But there, amidst the heart of the Inquisition, Gwen had found purpose. One last mission.

The evening air was crisp and refreshing as it swept through the open window, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. Gwen stood facing Leliana, leaning on her cane as if it were a mere prop in this serious conversation. The rogue - now known as the Spymaster - had caught wind of Gwen's decision to join the Herald's party to Redcliffe and wasted no time in expressing her disapproval.

"Leaving isn't safe, Gwen," Leliana said, her voice tight, her arms crossed over her chest. "I know you want to fight, to make a difference, but—"

“I thought you said you wouldn’t keep me here if I didn’t want to stay.” Gwen narrowed her eyes, her hackles rankling over being kept prisoner. She’d had enough of that lately.

Leliana pursed her lips but was unable to find any rebuttal.

"I have to go," Gwen said firmly, gripping her cane until her knuckles whitened. "If I can assist in bringing order to Redcliffe, perhaps I can forgive myself for the hurt I’ve caused and reclaim a piece of my humanity, even if just for a moment."

Leliana's blue eyes darkened, sorrow etching deeper lines into her fair face. "I've missed you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose you again - not like this. You owe them nothing, not when so much was taken from you."

"I have walked those halls and hidden in those shadows. My knowledge may be the key to navigating the castle without alerting our enemies. If they are to reclaim Redcliffe, they need someone who knows every secret." Gwen's heart clenched in her chest, the haunted grey of her eyes softening - almost white with how much it had faded. "And I can't bear the thought of you watching me fade away. That’s not how I want our friendship to end." Her voice was a shadow, a ghost of conviction. "That's my final wish."

A silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the Inquisition's encampment. Finally, Leliana nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line of reluctant acceptance. “If that is what you truly want then I will not stop you, but I do not like it.”

“I know, and thank you for allowing me this.” Changing the subject, Gwen asked tentatively, "Have you heard from… from Alistair?” Even saying his name made her heart pang in her chest. “Is he managing the Calling?"

Leliana's gaze fell away. "I haven’t heard a word from him since a few years after the Blight. He's been busy, I suspect. But I have heard nothing from my scouts about the King falling ill. He has all the best healers in Ferelden at his disposal, he will not suffer as much as most."

Disappointment flickered across Gwen's features, quickly masked by understanding. "I see," she murmured. She was thankful there was no news of his suffering, but she had hoped that Leliana had kept in contact with him, for no reason other than to know that he was happy.

"Why did you leave him, Gwen? You never spoke of it and I… I never understood." Leliana's voice was gentle, probing the scar tissue of an old wound.

Gwen's body tensed, her breath stilling in her chest. "It's complicated," she said tersely, her words clipped by the snip of shears severing threads of conversation.

Leliana reached out, her hand hovering but not touching. "I just want you to be happy, Gwen. I know you haven't been."

"I don’t know if I was ever meant to be," Gwen sighed, her gaze drifting towards the window, the evening light filtering through. "Change comes too late for some of us."

"You never know," Leliana murmured, hope a stubborn ember in her eyes.

Gwen offered a half-smile that spoke more of sadness than amusement. “I will miss you, my friend.”

Leliana scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “You will see me again, and I always follow through on my promises.”

Gwen shook her head as she pulled Leliana in for a tight hug. She could feel the weight of the impending goodbye settling heavily in her heart, knowing that this might be the last time they saw each other. They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms for what felt like an eternity. Through their embrace, Gwen could feel Leliana's worry and concern for her, and she was comforted by the fact that she would always have a friend in the former bard.

As they stood there, the sun began to set behind them, casting a warm glow over their figures. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, creating a serene backdrop for their bittersweet moment. Their conversation dwindled until only unsaid words hung between them like fragile cobwebs, delicate and easily torn.

The clatter of hooves on dirt roads echoed in Gwen's ears as she journeyed towards Redcliffe, the rhythmic cadence so different from the stilted silence of her own movements. Seated awkwardly behind Cassandra, she clung to the warrior's waist, her cane secured to the saddlebag like an afterthought. The wind whipped past her and she pulled her hood tighter to keep it from blowing it off, she no longer had hair to keep her head insulated against the cold. Leliana had gifted the heavy cloak to Gwen prior to her departure, insisting that she take it to keep warm, now that her body refused to retain any heat. It had been a kind gesture, and Gwen had been grateful for anything to keep prying eyes away.

"How are you holding up?" Cassandra's voice cut through the rush of air, tinged with concern but never condescending. She was a harsh woman, never one to beat around the bush, though she was rarely unkind, unless it was well deserved. She’d carried Gwen on her horse her with no complaints for the entirety of their journey, which Gwen deeply appreciated.

"I am fine, no need to concern yourself with me," Gwen replied, doing her best to keep the sharp hiss of pain from her voice. Despite the lightness in her words, the ache in her limbs was leaden and every movement of the horse caused sharp jabs of pain to shoot through her delicate body, leaving her feeling drained and exhausted. She could almost feel each individual muscle and bone protesting against the rough journey, straining under constant movement. But she gritted her teeth and soldiered on, determined to push through the discomfort and reach her destination.

Cassandra offered no response, but her firm nod conveyed her understanding. The Herald and her party continued, with Dorian - The Tevinter mage who had volunteered to aid the Inquisition - riding on one side of their leader, and Varric on the other. The dwarf, sitting atop a smaller pony that was more suited for his size, trotted along effortlessly while the humans and elves rode their larger steads.

As they approached the town, Gwen's attention was drawn to the imposing figure of Redcliffe Castle, its craggy outline etched against the sky like pages from a familiar story she once knew by heart. It stood tall and proud, a symbol of strength and resilience against the backdrop of the ever-changing world

Once they arrived at the entrance to the town, dismounting was its own trial - a dance of unsteady legs and gritted teeth.

Gwen stumbled towards a nearby boulder, leaning against its rough, weathered surface for support. The chill seeped through her clothes, numbing her skin but providing much-needed stability. The castle loomed ahead, imposing yet strangely diminished, the stones older and more tired than she remembered.

Memories of Alistair flickered through her thoughts, echoes of laughter and earnest conversation from the privacy of the guest rooms, now just ghosts flitting through empty halls.

"Everything changes… except this," she whispered, tracing the scar tissue that encircled her wrists. Uselessness nipped at her resolve, a persistent hound she couldn't shake off. It gnawed at her with sharp teeth - was her presence here out of pity, a nod to past glories? No, she refused to accept that. She would contribute, somehow, even if her body screamed its dissent with every breath.

Her gaze lifted, taking in the new banners, the unfamiliar faces. This was not the Redcliffe she recalled. It was just another battleground, and she was a soldier stripped of armour, laid bare before the enemy of time.

Gwen straightened as best she could, her spine protesting silently. The weight of her impending death was a familiar companion, its shadow long and intertwined with her own. But even as her body faltered, her spirit kindled with a spark that refused to be extinguished - not until the very end.

The Herald met with Leliana’s scouts, handing Gwen off to complete her portion of the mission. One of them, a slender elven woman with a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, approached Gwen with a respectful nod.

"Gwen, if you'll come with me, I'll escort you to the location you provided Sister Nightingale," she said, offering Gwen an arm for support. Gwen accepted it with as much dignity as she could muster. Leliana hadn’t been present when Darcy and his party had learned of the secret passageway, and while Gwen had described it to her well, she’d come along to ensure there were no hiccups. Who knew what could have happened to it in the last decade.

The walk through the hilly woods was slow going, each rocky step jarring Gwen's fragile frame. But the beauty of the forest was a welcome distraction - shafts of sunlight filtering through the canopy, the trilling songs of birds, the earthy scent of moss and turning leaves.

When they reached the top of a ridge overlooking Redcliffe Castle, half a dozen scouts awaited them. Gwen regarded the familiar turrets and parapets, memories rising unbidden. How different it looked now, occupied by foreign forces.

Yet the secret entrance was just as she remembered, untouched by the passage of time.

With a nod of confirmation to the scouts who had accompanied her, they departed, Gwen leading the way.

The hallway was dimly lit by flickering torches, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. Gwen moved slowly through the narrow passage, relying on her cane more heavily with each step. The cool dampness of the corridor made her bones ache, but she pressed on. She wanted to see the old guest rooms again, where she and Alistair had stolen private moments during the Blight. Back when they were both young and relatively carefree, the weight of the world not yet fully upon their shoulders. However, she would have to finish her mission first.

She remembered sitting on the edge of the lumpy bed, carefully tending to Alistair after he had endured yet another tongue-lashing from Lady Isolde. It had been the first time she’d held someone’s hand since Lucy, and it had stirred a deep need within her.

And then there was that night, just days before the Battle of Denerim. With a desperation born of not knowing if they would both survive, she’d moulded herself against him, his touch heating her skin. How she longed for that once more, to feel wanted, to feel cherished. But she had given it all up to keep him safe… right?

Gwen pictured Isolde's horrified face if the woman knew she now walked these secret halls, a small smile pulled at her ruined lips. Some memories not even the taint could take from her.

Gwen emerged from the passageway and led the way toward the throne room, leaning heavily on her cane. She shuffled through back corridors, wincing with every step.

They waited for the Herald’s signal as planned, and once given, the scouts entered the room. Leliana had requested that Gwen stay out of it, to be safe behind thick stone walls, but Gwen had never been great at following instructions.

The throne room was just as intricate as she remembered, with soaring arched ceilings and ornate stonework along the walls. But it was also changed. Gone were the banners of Redcliffe that once lined the hall, replaced now by the Tevinter symbol of mage rebellion.

At the far end sat the throne itself, imposing and severe-looking without Redcliffe's Arl to occupy it. She knew well the complications that had led the mages here, and from what she gathered, they did not willingly hand over their autonomy to the Magister. Her steps slowed as she took in the room, eyes tracing over familiar grooves and alcoves that still remained in the ancient stone. Gwen sighed, each breath a struggle, and continued her painstaking shuffle forward.

Lavellan’s - Ash, she had to remind herself - voice cut through the heavy, stifling air of Redcliffe's great hall like a knife, its sharpness echoed and reverberated against the walls. Gwen propped herself against a cool marble pillar at the edge of the room, struggling to stay upright as her body shook with exhaustion, unable to concentrate on any words exchanged. She’d made it, but it had cost her much.

She stood behind a contingent of Leliana’s scouts - a show of the Inquisition’s powers. Her grip on her cane tightened, its sturdy wood protesting against her grip, but it was her indomitable will that held her upright. The confrontation before her blurred like an artist's watercolour caught in the rain, details smudging together as her strength waned.

The magister's laugh was a cruel sound, like shards of glass scraping against each other. He lifted his hand, and the fabric of reality buckled, twisting at his command. Behind him, a swirling portal yawned open, its edges crackling with dangerous magic. Before anyone could react, tendrils of energy shot out from the portal, snaking around Ash and Dorian with an iron grip and dragging them into its depths. The suddenness of their disappearance caused a collective gasp to ripple through the room.

"Herald!" someone shouted from the throng - perhaps it was Cassandra. Gwen's heart lurched, and she fought to maintain focus, her vision swimming.

The portal snapped shut as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving a palpable void that seemed to suck the air out of the room. The Inquisition surged forward, ready to fight. But their movements all came to a screeching halt as a new portal opened in the exact same space where the previous one had just vanished. Ash and Dorian stumbled through, their faces grim but intact.

"Enough!" Her command silenced the room. With a swift motion, she signalled the guards, who moved to apprehend the magister. His eyes widened, his carefully crafted schemes unravelling before him as steel closed around his wrists. He babbled and seethed, his anger and desperation palpable, but Ash remained steadfast and unyielding. She stood tall, her posture exuding strength and authority, her eyes blazing as she refused to back down.

With a flick of her wrist, she commanded for the man to be taken away. The room seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief as Leliana's scouts promptly obeyed, ushering the prisoner out with cautious, pitying glances toward Gwen. The scouts knew she was not supposed to be there, but they had bigger concerns than corralling Gwen like a misbehaving child.

Before order could fully settle - and blessedly before Ash could question Gwen’s presence - the great doors banged open once more, drawing all eyes to the new arrivals.

The march of soldiers in full plate armour, their metal-clad footsteps ringing against the stone floor. The sound alone was enough to send her heart racing, and she felt her grip tighten on the hilt of her hidden dagger, the immediate surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She straightened, her hood and bandana obscuring all but her pale eyes from view. It took a moment for her to process who the soldiers were, but as her vision focused, she recognized the Ferelden royal symbol emblazoned on their armour, shining brightly in the sunlight. These were the King's guards, and they were resplendent in all their regal glory.

Fear struck her, sharp and fast, like a lightning bolt crackling through her body, igniting every nerve and synapse with a paralyzing jolt.

Please for the love of the Maker, do not torment me like this. I would take years in the Grey Warden dungeons over a second of this. Please, anything but this!

A silent moment passed before the thought materialized into reality. The guards, standing as still as statues, parted like a curtain to reveal a figure whose presence seemed to suck all the air from the room.

"Grand Enchanter, imagine how surprised I was to learn that you'd given Redcliffe castle to a Tevinter Magister," Alistair proclaimed, his voice echoing with authority and disbelief. Maker’s Breath, the sound of his voice again after she’d almost forgotten his rich baritone speech all but brought her to her knees. She couldn’t breathe, she wasn’t sure she had since the last time she saw him.

A fresh wave of regret washed over her like a waterfall, drenching her in sorrow as she drank in his familiar features - the strong line of his jaw - sharpened with age, the determined set of his mouth. How she had missed that crooked grin, those warm brown eyes that used to look at her with such unwavering devotion. Her heart ached at the thought of all they could have shared. If only fate had not cruelly torn them apart. No, if only she hadn’t made the decision she did.

She longed for a fragment of laughter - a shared joke under starlit skies - the callused feel of his hand confidently intertwined with hers. But that softness felt dull now, overshadowed by memories of abandonment, sacrifice, and the relentless Calling that haunted her.

Alistair stood there - both far away and yet so close - an imposing figure radiating strength - tired, but still maintaining compassion and a flicker of humour beneath his title. His presence was a stark contrast to her own decaying form, a reminder of what she once was and what she had lost.

Gwen's stomach twisted into tight knots, the acidic taste of bile rising in her throat as if to expel all the dread that had accumulated within her. The great hall of Redcliffe Castle seemed to spin, its stone walls blurring into streaks of gray and brown, the banners fluttering like the wings of panicked birds seeking escape. Alistair's voice, firm and filled with an authority she had so rarely heard, was a clarion call to a past she had desperately tried to bury.

Her pulse pounded in her veins, each beat a drum of war that reverberated through her fragile bones. Alistair here, now, when her time was measured in grains of sand slipping through the hourglass - like cruel fate's final joke, pinning her down and leaving her unable to escape his unexpected arrival.

She took shallow breaths, each one filled with the scent of aged wood and the faint remnants of powerful magic. Her grip tightened on her cane, knuckles turning white as she leaned against the smooth marble pillar for support. Gwen closed her eyes, trying to push away the rising waves of nausea, but it stubbornly clung to her.

"Please, not now," she murmured to herself, a silent plea for composure. Her heart, already battered and bruised from years of fighting battles both physical and emotional, now thrashed against her ribs as though it might break free.

He was there, in flesh and blood, yet worlds apart from the time when they had stood together against the darkness of the Blight. When he had loved her. That Alistair, the one who joked in the face of death and looked at her with unguarded warmth, was a memory she couldn't afford to dwell on. Not when every part of her wanted to scream, to run, to hide her cursed face from his sight. She had changed so much in the last ten years and he… was as stunning as the day she had met him. Older, more sure of himself, but no less than what she remembered. She had only become more monstrous, she did not wish for him to know her like this. She could not handle him looking at her with contempt and disgust, it would kill her faster than her tainted blood.

Gwen watched through half-lidded eyes, a spectator in her own tragedy as Alistair turned, his gaze sweeping across the room. Time slowed, each second stretching into eternity until finally - inevitably - their eyes locked.

Next Chapter

A/N: I apologize for the cliffhanger, please forgive me!! The next chapter is going to be a big one, so hopefully that will make up for it :)

#angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fluff #falling in love #humour #alistair dao #alistair dragon age #alistair theirin #alistair x original character #dragon age inquisition #cullen rutherford #cassandra pentaghast #leliana #herald of andraste #varric tethras #dorian pavus #redcliffe #king alistair #alistair x oc

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casspurrjoybell-19 · 4 months

Text

Does it Matter? - Chapter 49 - Part 2

*Warning: Adult Content*

It was late morning by the time everyone and everything was in order.

It was another hour's ride to the mountain path, by which point it would be midday.

They would part ways with Maric and his men there and then start out towards Ticia.

They would camp for one night on this side of the border before finishing the journey across tomorrow morning.

This area was so remote that it would be unguarded.

Brayan had done an admirable job with the preparations.

Dara went through everything packed into their saddlebags before they left, expecting to have to arrange some last minute additions but Brayan truly had thought of everything.

"He would make a good husband," Dara commented to Bug in Eulan and Bug hid a quiet, breathy laugh behind his hand.

"What secret conversations are you two having?" Maric asked as he mounted his horse.

Dara shook his head.

"Just something I remember my mother saying sometimes when I was young. Don't worry about it."

Bug nodded his agreement.

He'd probably heard it when he was younger too.

It was a comment commonly jokingly made by Eth parents but Dara worried Brayan would take a translation of it too seriously.

Dara mounted Farah and went to ride alongside Maric.

He didn't want to make him feel excluded right before they parted ways.

"Do you remember the Eulan word I taught you?" Dara asked.

"Aleous," Maric said without hesitation.

Dara smiled.

"Good. Don't forget that."

"There are a lot of things you taught me that I won't ever forget. Do you have any final wisdom for me?"

"No. You're a good man and a good leader. I'm glad you feel like I've helped you but you don't need me to give you guidance. You'll do an amazing job all on your own."

"Hmm," Maric said.

"I hope so..."

********

Bug rode up alongside Brayan on their own matching horses.

It felt wrong to ride to the front of the line, next to the Captain of the Prince's Guard but Bug didn't think anyone would mind on this occasion.

Probably not, anyway.

With Brayan in particular, it was sometimes hard to know where he stood and what was expected of him.

Brayan gave Bug a quick glance up and down.

"You're still malnourished. It would have been preferable to keep you with us for a few months and build your strength but that would have been logistically challenging and well... it's going to be hard enough for Maric and Dara to part ways as it is. That much more time together certainly wouldn't make it any easier."

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Sir. You packed up plenty of food and enough coin to buy more. I imagine we'll head to the nearest town and spend some time there building up my strength and gathering information about where our families might be."

Brayan looked at Bug, eyes slightly narrowed but no real anger in them.

"Why are you still calling me 'Sir'?"

Bug shrugged, self conscious.

"I suppose I never really did figure out what you wanted from me."

"You need to stop thinking like a slave. It doesn't matter what I want."

"Maybe I care for other reasons."

"Hmm."

Brayan was silent for a long moment.

"Well, anyway, that sounds like a good plan. The money we packed for you is unstamped coins, so you shouldn't have any trouble spending it. Fortunately we had some on hand because it's the only form of payment Wrasher will accept."

"It still is, by the way," Hudson said from behind them.

"So, you know. Make sure you get some more of it."

Brayan shot him an annoyed look over his shoulder.

"Why do they have to be unstamped coins, anyway?"

"Wrasher are travelers," Hudson said as he rode up beside them.

"Shockingly, not everyone wants money with your King's face on it. I know I don't. That man's a rat bastard."

Brayan let out a deep sigh.

"Hudson, can you please stop committing treason?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, is releasing slaves not treason now? Releasing a healer?"

Hudson let out a bark of laughter.

"Yeah, real sorry there, I'll try to keep my mean words to a minimum."

"Do you have a problem with this?"

"No, I just think you're a hypocrite. Crazy thing, watching a man be afraid to commit to things he's already neck deep in."

"So, um," Bug interrupted.

"When you were going to take me to the Wrasher, would they have been able to take me back to Ticia?"

"Oh, yeah, that was the plan."

Brayan shot him a glare.

"You didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

Hudson shrugged.

"A lot has changed in the last week or so. Didn't really want to bring up that we sail between here and Ticia like it's nothing. Wrasher get enough distrust without admitting we're on friendly terms with the enemy."

"That's reasonable enough but did you not at some point while we were arranging all of this consider that it might be safer to take them by boat, directly to a port in Ticia?"

"Seemed like whatever's guiding him didn't want that. Kinda surprised it's let us get as far as we have with this plan but if I'm honest, I'm not gonna be shocked if we get to the border and it slaps down this idea as well. Imagine if the entire purpose of a fucking prince in this whole thing was just to get two slaves where they need to go."

"I thought you had no idea what was going on here? It could just as easily be that Dara had a vital influence on Maric."

"And what, this one's influence was just to get Dara home after all that was done? When, as we've established, I could've done that?"

"Bickering about this is pointless. We'll see what happens once we get to the border. I do agree that it doesn't seem terribly unlikely that the hand of fate will show up to at least try to push us in a direction we hadn't planned once we get there."

"I'm counting on it, to be honest," Hudson said.

"See, when all this started happening, I figured this was why I was here. Makes sense. Problem is, if you lot all go your separate ways, I have no idea if that means it's all over and my job's done and if it maybe isn't, what the fuck do I do? Stay indefinitely just in case?"

"Good to know you're looking to leave us as soon as possible."

"You're not really going to act like we're friends, are you? You're all right but we're not friends."

"You have never given the slightest indication that you wanted friends here."

"I play cards with people."

"Because you enjoy playing cards and you can't do it alone."

Brayan shook his head.

"Anyway, Bug, what's your take on all of this?"

Bug looked up, startled.

"Oh, ah...?"

"On what will happen when we reach the border."

"Oh. Um... honestly, I don't know. I used to think I had a solid grasp of my ability and how it works. I thought everything it did was to help me, and usually in extremely straightforward ways. Now... I don't know. How can I know what it will do if I don't know what it wants?"

"Remember, it can't make you do anything."

"Remember, if you don't do what it says, that was probably just part of the plan because whatever gives you the visions clearly knows exactly what will happen long into the future and probably wouldn't even bother trying to do something that ultimately wouldn't work in its favour."

Brayan shot him a scowl.

"Not helpful, Hudson."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was this meant to be one of those things where you say something that sounds reassuring even though you know it's not true?"

"We don't know enough about it to know it's not true."

"Sure we don't."

"I thought you were on the side of this thing. Aren't you here because of it?"

"I'm not saying it's malicious. I'm saying he can't just shrug it off and ignore it whenever he wants. I don't know what happens next but I do know there's no chance this all comes to an end because that kid gives up on it on a whim."

"Well, I hope that will also grant me safe travels?" Bug offered.

Hudson responded with a grin.

"See? That's the right idea. Someone as fragile as you should want to be the chosen one. Ordinary people just die."

"Well, an ordinary person might still have been living an ordinary life right now without having to worry about any of this nonsense," Brayan countered.

"Bit late for that now, though, huh? Resenting it won't get anyone anywhere."

"Treating it with appropriate suspicion might."

"It's okay, Brayan," Bug said.

"Really. If we reach the mountain pass and it shows me something different from what I'm expecting, points me down another path... I'm open to listening. This isn't just about me at this point, though. At very least, Dara must also have a say in anything that changes our course."

"Hmm," Brayan said.

"I suppose all we can do now is wait and see."

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