#he probably plays catch with Cerberus in his free time

[isolophilian]

ngl Hades ATE. he's really out here looking like an exhausted and overworked housewife, is out of touch with the Olympian gossip, cracks terrible jokes (i love them sm), "I seldom cahoot" (I SCREAMED), and seems chill all 'round. like you can't tell me this man isn't living his best away from the drama because that palace looked NEAT

[writingsnippetsthatneverupdate]

WORD COUNT: 2377; PROMPT: SECRETS

Okay, so the premise is a Greek God AU but with some MAJOR relationship and timeline shifts! For example, in this AU, Hades and Persephone are NOT ever going to be romantically entwined, Zeus is overworked and overwhelmed and not married, Olympus is more like a gathering for rich people more than a council of gods, and mortals don't really worship the gods. This is not really a Greek mythology-based AU so much as one that steals certain premises and major players.

ANYWAYS. I DIGRESS. THE OUTLINE!

This story actually centers around Nino Lahiffe, a mortal who was sentenced to an eternity trapped in this universe's equivalent of Tartarus for a crime he didn't do. However, he was trapped in a prison that... essentially magically sensed the moral 'purity' or 'impurity' of a person and imprisoned them based on the severity of the crimes they committed.

The prison takes one look at Nino Lahiffe, overwhelmed guy who loves his friends and just gets dragged into wild shit, and gives him free reign around the Underworld. Nino goes oh, shit? I'm out? And it's essentially like he's a horse, LOOSE in a HOSPITAL, except he is a PRISONER, LOOSE in the UNDERWORLD!

He's really not here to cause any trouble, he just wants to fly under the radar. (They tossed him in a jail cell and literally never checked on him, not HIS fault he escaped!! The doors just opened!!!)

He spends his first few months out curled up in a corner, freaking out about getting caught and sent to a Real Prison, but he soon realized... no one was really checking in on him? They just assumed their prison worked, and if he kept a low profile, he was probably good!!

(And maybe Nino ended up exploring every nook and cranny of the Underworld and maybe Nino befriended Cerberus but you know what? Hades should hide his dog treats better if he wants people to NOT use them!! And Cerberus is such a good boy!!)

Meanwhile, while Nino is exploring the Underworld for half a century, there is some Upheaval going on up top. Arthur (he's in Demeter's role because he's a shitty parent) and Stephanie (she is playing Persephone's role because I love her) are having a falling-out. They never got along, but this was beyond anything they'd had before. Stephanie, still a juvenile by god standards, ended up running away and falling through a Crack Between Worlds. She falls through, and ends up in this universe's equivalent of Asphodel, for lost souls. It's... not a great place for a child, even a godly one. Steph's lower lip wobbles, and she ends up sobbing in the whistling, dry grasses of Asphodel while the damned wander around her.

Nino, seeing Steph curled up in a ball crying, shrieks, "OH NO A CHILD" and guides her around the Underworld. He ends up rambling in an attempt to get the Itty Bitty Child to stop crying. Steph takes an immediate liking to him.

Somehow, mysteriously, she ends up falling into the Underworld again. And again. And again. After the seventh time Steph goes, "Oh, Nino! I got a little stuck in the Underworld! :( Can you help me out!" he finally catches on to the fact that this is on purpose.

"Kid," Nino sighs, "You can like. Contact me some other way. You don't have to come down here."

Steph wrinkles her nose. "But I like it here! It's cool and my Dad isn't here and you're here!! What more do I need?"

Nino may or may not have to hold back tears. (Steph definitely teases him mercilessly about it.) (She also brings up that she's probably older than him. They both ignore that.)

Arthur catches wind of what Steph's doing, and he bars her from the Underworld, trapping her on the mortal plane. After a few decades of scheming, she manages to slip away to the Underworld again.

She has vague recollections of someone important to her in the Underworld, but their memory is distant and faded. All she remembers is that she felt safe there.

When the Lord of the Underworld, also known as Marinette, asks the little god what she's doing in her domain, she says so.

Marinette is stunned for a total of 30 seconds before deciding that she'd die for this kid. They bond, chat, Steph meets the Underworld Team. (Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Kate Kane, Renee Montoya, Vic Sage, Max Kante, Markov, and a few others assist her in running the place. They are a terrifying force to behold and Steph wants to be just like them when she grows up.)

After chatting for a while, Persephone's memories of Nino start coming back. She describes Nino to Marinette, who goes, "Hm. Sounds like that Morality Prison guy. But it's impossible for him to escape if he did what they say he did."

The following snippet is an approximation of what occurs in the minutes following that statement:

"What if," Steph said, "And I know this is hard to believe, but what if... you were wrong?"

"You're not going to stop bothering me until I check the prison, huh." Marinette said.

"You betcha!" she chirps.

Marinette lets out a deep, heavy exhale and heads down to the Morality Prison. (It used to have another name, but everyone just called it the Morality Prison. It was what the place was, after all.)

"Look, see," Marinette said, gesturing to the cell, "He's right --"

She looked back. The cell was empty.

The curses she spoke that day cannot, regrettably, be translated for mortal ears. They're liable to melt brain matter out of ears if read, never mind heard. The mortal equivalent sounds something like, "Motherfucking son of a --" ... You can probably guess how the rest goes.

Anyways, suffice to say, Stephanie was very smug as she gestured to the empty cell. "And there's no way for him to have, like, circumvented the Morality Prison, right?"

"There is not," Marinette confirmed, "In fact, we've had trouble releasing people from the prison when they're done serving their sentences. When they are judged as guilty, the prison is... reluctant to relinquish them."

"So," Steph declares triumphantly, "He's innocent!"

"Yes," Marinette said, in an entirely different tone, "We attempted to imprison an innocent man for nearly a century."

Steph's face fell. "Oh."

Marinette sighed defeatedly. "I'll start on the paperwork, I guess."

ANYWAYS. End snippet. ANYWAYS!! Marinette is left to freak the hell out about an innocent guy left to rot in the Underworld for an entire CENTURY. She, obviously, sends out a wanted poster for Nino Lahiffe, confident that she can sort out this misunderstanding properly and apologize to the poor guy.

Nino Lahiffe, contentedly eating Tantalus's fruit and taunting the jerk, sees the wanted poster with his face emblazoned on it and promptly books it. He is convinced that the Lord of the Underworld has finally seen fit to hunt him down and imprison him forever.

Shenanigans ensue! Nino almost knows the Underworld better than Marinette, since he's been wandering around it for so long while Marinette's been drowning in paperwork. Eventually, Steph finds him having a panic attack in the place she first met him.

Poor girl is hit with the double whammy of, "Oh, wow, an innocent guy has feared for the rest of his soul's life for decades and that leaves a mark," and the realization that her childhood friend, who always seemed so put-together, was honestly, truly, simply a man. It was... a lot to process. They, perhaps, broke down on each other. And then Steph explains the entire situation to him! Resolution! Yay!

Nino finally gets to meet Marinette OUTSIDE of her Underworld regalia and she's... actually really nice? And super apologetic about the wrongful imprisonment thing?

He can also relate way too hard to her Loner Who No One Understands, given, you know, his whole situation. They bond... surprisingly quickly? And then Nino makes a joke about, "Wow, what a hell of a few decades, huh?" And Hades realizes... Nino has been here for nearly a century.

That's not good.

Every century, there's a retrial for each person trapped in the Underworld, even those in the morality prison. It's less about determining guilt versus innocence, and more for the Olympian gods to establish their superiority and to have scapegoats for any anger or frustration they may have.

Stephanie pounces on the opportunity to potentially fix Nino's life! They can prove he's innocent!

Nino thinks this is... a little excessive. Like, no one even hurt him? He was just kind of lonely! And now he has friends!

Marinette, in the background, has a fun little crisis because he's so nice and we LEFT HIM HERE.

Anyways. Steph is trying not to lose her mind with rage at the situation, Marinette is desperate to make things up to Nino, and Nino wants to maybe take a nap.

Long story short, his opinion on the situation is overruled. They're breaking into the ritzy, gaudy, obnoxiously rich and opulent retrial party together and proving Nino's innocence.

So! Nino has to hide somewhere, so he has to pretend to be a statue, sweating and panicking as people squint at him and move on because they are entirely and thoroughly drunk.

Poor guy is really just trying not to shake apart from nerves and he runs into an old hero friend?! OH GOD HE'S GONNA DIE --

Duke Thomas, seeing his old friend Nino Lahiffe who he's pretty sure is a criminal: dude, what the hell did you get dragged into this time?!

Nino: DUKE HIDE ME.

Duke: ... alright, sure. I figured you were innocent anyways. You're always caught up in the weird shit.

anyways so Stephanie is working behind the scenes to get a freakin',,, artifact or something that can display a person's memories with absolute Truth™️ No Tampering Guaranteed

she ends up being almost late for the Big Retrial Presentation, which is basically Zeus (who is Sabrina in this AU, RIP) enthusiastically reviewing a slideshow of How This Guy Fucked Up This Time while Marinette drinks herself into unconsciousness so she doesn't have to think about how these Literal War Criminals are HER responsibility! Fun times!

so cut to Stephanie desperately pushing through throngs of people, a bunch of people going "omg Stephanie?! hey girl hey!!! we missed you while you were in the mortal world <3" and Stephanie realizing "OH WOW I'M POPULAR AND ACTUALLY MADE A NAME FOR MYSELF NOT JUST THRU MY DAD" but she Doesn't Have Time For That!!

so she sprints to the behind the scenes, Nino is sitting with his head in his hands because "MARINETTE I RAN INTO AN OLD FRIEND WHAT IF HE OUTS ME" and Marinette going "dude your friend is the chillest hero ever you're fINE --- thank fuck STEPH HELP US"

Stephanie comes in clutch with the artifact!

Sabrina is queueing up his slideshow and Marinette says, "Sister, I want to try something different this time around. Why don't we ask him about this?" and BAM screen shows Nino's memories!

Everyone starts shrieking, things dissolve into chaos, and Persephone is really at the end of her rope. She snaps.

She just summons all her power and yells, "QUIET! AN INNOCENT MAN COULD HAVE BEEN IMPRISONED FOR A CENTURY AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS TITTER AND GOSSIP!"

Vines creep up the walls and EVERYTHING it's all dramatic and that!! Cut to Nino taking a deep breath and guiding the artifact through his memories. he… I don't know, witnesses a crime or something that Sabrina committed and Sabrina IMMEDIATELY blames it on him. She wants to sentence the guy to Not Morality Prison but Marinette goes "shouldn't the punishment fit the crime? morality prison" and she can't say shit. She just goes, "Well, Nino literally stood there as I accused him of stuff he Didn't Do and didn't even say shit, he's not gonna do anything."

So everyone's in an uproar about Wait Zeus Did WHAT -- but Nino keeps going through the memories

and everyone sees him being sentenced into the Underworld, the way Marinette is strangely gentle with him despite it all, and the way he stays in the morality prison and ends up… accidentally escaping??? and then they get to see Just Some Guy exploring the Underworld, and it's actually beautiful. Marinette runs a tight ship and it actually works really, really well.

Nino wanted to give Hades a better rep, hence why he kept the memory artifact going! At the end of the memories, everyone is just in a quiet, awed hush (because there can be a little emotional projecting that goes with the memory artifact, as a treat to me). 

And then Persephone steps tf up and goes "so we sentenced an innocent man to a century in a prison for crimes he did not commit on the worlds of a liar and traitor". she turns to Nino and says, "shouldn't the punishment fit the crime?" like Marinette did to Sabrina years and years ago. and like Marinette, Nino y is actually really kind and says, "well let's ask Sabrina why she did what she did" and she breaks down and says "I THOUGHT RULING WOULD BE FUN BUT IT SUCKS I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY SOMETHING BUT Y'ALL HAVE KEPT PUTTING RESPONSIBILITY ON ME MAKE IT STOP!"

Marinette kind of sighs and goes "alright lemme fix this". end of story bc i don't want to deal with the political and social ramifications of this

rip Marinette but she's got a hypercompetent Underworld team gnawing at the bit to prove to people that their boss is Good Actually and they are DELIGHTED to restructure Olympian politics because HOLY FUCK THEY ALL SUCK AND ARE SO INEFFICIENT

Nino is basically promoted into a hero position against his will he's like "Y'ALL I DIDN'T DO SHIT" and Marinette goes "you literally saved my reputation and took care of Stephanie and maintained sanity in the Underworld while escaping prison" and Nino goes "yo have you SEEN my friends?? they're all crazy this is just part for the course" 

also Nino is reunited with his friends bc He Deserves It <3

Hades & Persephone but make it Marinette & Stephanie and also sprinkle in some mortal!Nino for fun

Okay, so the premise is a Greek God AU but with some MAJOR relationship and timeline shifts! For example, in this AU, Hades and Persephone are NOT ever going to be romantically entwined, Zeus is overworked and overwhelmed and not married, Olympus is more like a gathering for rich people more than a council of gods, and mortals don't really worship the gods. This is not really a Greek mythology-based AU so much as one that steals certain premises and major players.

ANYWAYS. I DIGRESS. THE OUTLINE!

This story actually centers around Nino Lahiffe, a mortal who was sentenced to an eternity trapped in this universe's equivalent of Tartarus for a crime he didn't do. However, he was trapped in a prison that... essentially magically sensed the moral 'purity' or 'impurity' of a person and imprisoned them based on the severity of the crimes they committed.

The prison takes one look at Nino Lahiffe, overwhelmed guy who loves his friends and just gets dragged into wild shit, and gives him free reign around the Underworld. Nino goes oh, shit? I'm out? And it's essentially like he's a horse, LOOSE in a HOSPITAL, except he is a PRISONER, LOOSE in the UNDERWORLD!

He's really not here to cause any trouble, he just wants to fly under the radar. (They tossed him in a jail cell and literally never checked on him, not HIS fault he escaped!! The doors just opened!!!)

He spends his first few months out curled up in a corner, freaking out about getting caught and sent to a Real Prison, but he soon realized... no one was really checking in on him? They just assumed their prison worked, and if he kept a low profile, he was probably good!!

(And maybe Nino ended up exploring every nook and cranny of the Underworld and maybe Nino befriended Cerberus but you know what? Hades should hide his dog treats better if he wants people to NOT use them!! And Cerberus is such a good boy!!)

Meanwhile, while Nino is exploring the Underworld for half a century, there is some Upheaval going on up top. Arthur (he's in Demeter's role because he's a shitty parent) and Stephanie (she is playing Persephone's role because I love her) are having a falling-out. They never got along, but this was beyond anything they'd had before. Stephanie, still a juvenile by god standards, ended up running away and falling through a Crack Between Worlds. She falls through, and ends up in this universe's equivalent of Asphodel, for lost souls. It's... not a great place for a child, even a godly one. Steph's lower lip wobbles, and she ends up sobbing in the whistling, dry grasses of Asphodel while the damned wander around her.

Nino, seeing Steph curled up in a ball crying, shrieks, "OH NO A CHILD" and guides her around the Underworld. He ends up rambling in an attempt to get the Itty Bitty Child to stop crying. Steph takes an immediate liking to him.

Somehow, mysteriously, she ends up falling into the Underworld again. And again. And again. After the seventh time Steph goes, "Oh, Nino! I got a little stuck in the Underworld! :( Can you help me out!" he finally catches on to the fact that this is on purpose.

"Kid," Nino sighs, "You can like. Contact me some other way. You don't have to come down here."

Steph wrinkles her nose. "But I like it here! It's cool and my Dad isn't here and you're here!! What more do I need?"

Nino may or may not have to hold back tears. (Steph definitely teases him mercilessly about it.) (She also brings up that she's probably older than him. They both ignore that.)

Arthur catches wind of what Steph's doing, and he bars her from the Underworld, trapping her on the mortal plane. After a few decades of scheming, she manages to slip away to the Underworld again.

She has vague recollections of someone important to her in the Underworld, but their memory is distant and faded. All she remembers is that she felt safe there.

When the Lord of the Underworld, also known as Marinette, asks the little god what she's doing in her domain, she says so.

Marinette is stunned for a total of 30 seconds before deciding that she'd die for this kid. They bond, chat, Steph meets the Underworld Team. (Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Kate Kane, Renee Montoya, Vic Sage, Max Kante, Markov, and a few others assist her in running the place. They are a terrifying force to behold and Steph wants to be just like them when she grows up.)

After chatting for a while, Persephone's memories of Nino start coming back. She describes Nino to Marinette, who goes, "Hm. Sounds like that Morality Prison guy. But it's impossible for him to escape if he did what they say he did."

The following snippet is an approximation of what occurs in the minutes following that statement:

"What if," Steph said, "And I know this is hard to believe, but what if... you were wrong?"

"You're not going to stop bothering me until I check the prison, huh." Marinette said.

"You betcha!" she chirps.

Marinette lets out a deep, heavy exhale and heads down to the Morality Prison. (It used to have another name, but everyone just called it the Morality Prison. It was what the place was, after all.)

"Look, see," Marinette said, gesturing to the cell, "He's right --"

She looked back. The cell was empty.

The curses she spoke that day cannot, regrettably, be translated for mortal ears. They're liable to melt brain matter out of ears if read, never mind heard. The mortal equivalent sounds something like, "Motherfucking son of a --" ... You can probably guess how the rest goes.

Anyways, suffice to say, Stephanie was very smug as she gestured to the empty cell. "And there's no way for him to have, like, circumvented the Morality Prison, right?"

"There is not," Marinette confirmed, "In fact, we've had trouble releasing people from the prison when they're done serving their sentences. When they are judged as guilty, the prison is... reluctant to relinquish them."

"So," Steph declares triumphantly, "He's innocent!"

"Yes," Marinette said, in an entirely different tone, "We attempted to imprison an innocent man for nearly a century."

Steph's face fell. "Oh."

Marinette sighed defeatedly. "I'll start on the paperwork, I guess."

ANYWAYS. End snippet. ANYWAYS!! Marinette is left to freak the hell out about an innocent guy left to rot in the Underworld for an entire CENTURY. She, obviously, sends out a wanted poster for Nino Lahiffe, confident that she can sort out this misunderstanding properly and apologize to the poor guy.

Nino Lahiffe, contentedly eating Tantalus's fruit and taunting the jerk, sees the wanted poster with his face emblazoned on it and promptly books it. He is convinced that the Lord of the Underworld has finally seen fit to hunt him down and imprison him forever.

Shenanigans ensue! Nino almost knows the Underworld better than Marinette, since he's been wandering around it for so long while Marinette's been drowning in paperwork. Eventually, Steph finds him having a panic attack in the place she first met him.

Poor girl is hit with the double whammy of, "Oh, wow, an innocent guy has feared for the rest of his soul's life for decades and that leaves a mark," and the realization that her childhood friend, who always seemed so put-together, was honestly, truly, simply a man. It was... a lot to process. They, perhaps, broke down on each other. And then Steph explains the entire situation to him! Resolution! Yay!

Nino finally gets to meet Marinette OUTSIDE of her Underworld regalia and she's... actually really nice? And super apologetic about the wrongful imprisonment thing?

He can also relate way too hard to her Loner Who No One Understands, given, you know, his whole situation. They bond... surprisingly quickly? And then Nino makes a joke about, "Wow, what a hell of a few decades, huh?" And Hades realizes... Nino has been here for nearly a century.

That's not good.

Every century, there's a retrial for each person trapped in the Underworld, even those in the morality prison. It's less about determining guilt versus innocence, and more for the Olympian gods to establish their superiority and to have scapegoats for any anger or frustration they may have.

Stephanie pounces on the opportunity to potentially fix Nino's life! They can prove he's innocent!

Nino thinks this is... a little excessive. Like, no one even hurt him? He was just kind of lonely! And now he has friends!

Marinette, in the background, has a fun little crisis because he's so nice and we LEFT HIM HERE.

Anyways. Steph is trying not to lose her mind with rage at the situation, Marinette is desperate to make things up to Nino, and Nino wants to maybe take a nap.

Long story short, his opinion on the situation is overruled. They're breaking into the ritzy, gaudy, obnoxiously rich and opulent retrial party together and proving Nino's innocence.

So! Nino has to hide somewhere, so he has to pretend to be a statue, sweating and panicking as people squint at him and move on because they are entirely and thoroughly drunk.

Poor guy is really just trying not to shake apart from nerves and he runs into an old hero friend?! OH GOD HE'S GONNA DIE --

Duke Thomas, seeing his old friend Nino Lahiffe who he's pretty sure is a criminal: dude, what the hell did you get dragged into this time?!

Nino: DUKE HIDE ME.

Duke: ... alright, sure. I figured you were innocent anyways. You're always caught up in the weird shit.

anyways so Stephanie is working behind the scenes to get a freakin',,, artifact or something that can display a person's memories with absolute Truth™️ No Tampering Guaranteed

she ends up being almost late for the Big Retrial Presentation, which is basically Zeus (who is Sabrina in this AU, RIP) enthusiastically reviewing a slideshow of How This Guy Fucked Up This Time while Marinette drinks herself into unconsciousness so she doesn't have to think about how these Literal War Criminals are HER responsibility! Fun times!

so cut to Stephanie desperately pushing through throngs of people, a bunch of people going "omg Stephanie?! hey girl hey!!! we missed you while you were in the mortal world <3" and Stephanie realizing "OH WOW I'M POPULAR AND ACTUALLY MADE A NAME FOR MYSELF NOT JUST THRU MY DAD" but she Doesn't Have Time For That!!

so she sprints to the behind the scenes, Nino is sitting with his head in his hands because "MARINETTE I RAN INTO AN OLD FRIEND WHAT IF HE OUTS ME" and Marinette going "dude your friend is the chillest hero ever you're fINE --- thank fuck STEPH HELP US"

Stephanie comes in clutch with the artifact!

Sabrina is queueing up his slideshow and Marinette says, "Sister, I want to try something different this time around. Why don't we ask him about this?" and BAM screen shows Nino's memories!

Everyone starts shrieking, things dissolve into chaos, and Persephone is really at the end of her rope. She snaps.

She just summons all her power and yells, "QUIET! AN INNOCENT MAN COULD HAVE BEEN IMPRISONED FOR A CENTURY AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS TITTER AND GOSSIP!"

Vines creep up the walls and EVERYTHING it's all dramatic and that!! Cut to Nino taking a deep breath and guiding the artifact through his memories. he… I don't know, witnesses a crime or something that Sabrina committed and Sabrina IMMEDIATELY blames it on him. She wants to sentence the guy to Not Morality Prison but Marinette goes "shouldn't the punishment fit the crime? morality prison" and she can't say shit. She just goes, "Well, Nino literally stood there as I accused him of stuff he Didn't Do and didn't even say shit, he's not gonna do anything."

So everyone's in an uproar about Wait Zeus Did WHAT -- but Nino keeps going through the memories

and everyone sees him being sentenced into the Underworld, the way Marinette is strangely gentle with him despite it all, and the way he stays in the morality prison and ends up… accidentally escaping??? and then they get to see Just Some Guy exploring the Underworld, and it's actually beautiful. Marinette runs a tight ship and it actually works really, really well.

Nino wanted to give Hades a better rep, hence why he kept the memory artifact going! At the end of the memories, everyone is just in a quiet, awed hush (because there can be a little emotional projecting that goes with the memory artifact, as a treat to me).

And then Persephone steps tf up and goes "so we sentenced an innocent man to a century in a prison for crimes he did not commit on the worlds of a liar and traitor". she turns to Nino and says, "shouldn't the punishment fit the crime?" like Marinette did to Sabrina years and years ago. and like Marinette, Nino y is actually really kind and says, "well let's ask Sabrina why she did what she did" and she breaks down and says "I THOUGHT RULING WOULD BE FUN BUT IT SUCKS I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY SOMETHING BUT Y'ALL HAVE KEPT PUTTING RESPONSIBILITY ON ME MAKE IT STOP!"

Marinette kind of sighs and goes "alright lemme fix this". end of story bc i don't want to deal with the political and social ramifications of this

rip Marinette but she's got a hypercompetent Underworld team gnawing at the bit to prove to people that their boss is Good Actually and they are DELIGHTED to restructure Olympian politics because HOLY FUCK THEY ALL SUCK AND ARE SO INEFFICIENT

Nino is basically promoted into a hero position against his will he's like "Y'ALL I DIDN'T DO SHIT" and Marinette goes "you literally saved my reputation and took care of Stephanie and maintained sanity in the Underworld while escaping prison" and Nino goes "yo have you SEEN my friends?? they're all crazy this is just part for the course"

also Nino is reunited with his friends bc He Deserves It <3

ALRIGHT WE'RE DONE THANK FUCK!!!

@maribat-get-in

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Three. Ex-boyfriends and Mr. MoneyBags

warnings: ex-boyfriend is a dick, mentions of emotional and mental abuse, swearing word count: 933 (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

edit: omg the dates on the dms between dream and yn are SO wrong just don't look at them lol

edit 2: added another photo for Karl/yn conversation two days after posting bc I forgot it

**********

.

A wave of discomfort washed over Y/n as it alway did when talking about her ex-boyfriend. It gave her an ominously unsettling feeling in her stomach that she was not fond of. She shook her head and pretended like she couldn't hear his voice in the back of her head as she fixed her hair in the mirror. Healing, she reminded herself. Not perfect, but healing.

"Y/n?" Naomi called through the house.

"In my room!"

Naomi appeared moments later at Y/n's door. "Hey, I'm getting food, do you want anything?"

"I'm okay, thanks."

"Oh, hey, I watched Karl's stream from a few days ago earlier. You were so good."

"Thanks," Y/n thanked as she sat back down, forgetting all the disgust she felt moments ago from thinking about her past. Naomi sat on the corner of the bed. "Could you tell I was nervous?"

"Not at all. You were so funny. And George is so sweet. If only I had a friend who could set me up on a date with him..."

"Naomi!" Y/n laughed. "I've never even met him in person, how would you go on a date? Fly to England?"

"Yeah. He and I could work all those details out if you gave me his number."

"He'd fly here just to kill me if I gave anyone his number."

"Fine," she sighed jokingly. "Are you still going to Karl's later?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh. Well.... I'm hungry soooo I'm going to go get something to eat."

"Drive safe," Y/n ordered as she turned back to her computer and Naomi left the room.

"I will. Love you!"

As Y/n looked back at her computer to figure out something to cure her boredom, her phone lit up with a DM from Twitter.

She giggled to herself as she set her phone down and opened up Minecraft. She had nothing to do all day so she decided to start a stream, titling it "chill minecraft?? if any mobs ruin the chill ill actually cry??"

Y/n laughed to herself even though she knew it wasn't that funny. She didn't even bother to start with her usual "starting soon" screen, jumping right into playing.

"Hello, hello everyone," Y/n greeted vaguely as she opened the survival world she usually streamed. She had made decent progress on it, but it hadn't been long since she started it. "Hello. I'm super bored so I figured I'd stream and we can all just hang out and chill out. Is the music too loud? Can you hear it? Everyone type yes if it's good..." she paused as she waited for responses and adjusted the volume of the music accordingly.

She tried to not think about how much larger her viewer count was than usual, figuring it was probably mostly because she had been on Karl's stream not long before.

"Welcome, if you're new! Sorry if you don't find house building exciting, usually I do a lot more chaotic things but I'm determined to get my base done today. I can't keep coming home to a dirt shack."

Her chat started spamming one thing, making her roll her eyes slightly, a smile on her lips.

user3: DREAM HELLO

user6: Dream's here!!!!!

user7: DREAM

Y/n couldn't help but see the few negative comments that passed, calling her a clout chaser.

"Judging by everyone saying Dream's here, I assume Dream's here?" she said with a laugh as she continued collecting dark oak wood and making sure to replant the saplings. "Hello, sir."

user10: are they finally actually friends??? not just Twitter friends????

user16: Dream just lingering we see you sir

"Chat, should I make my real home first or the treehouse? I'm thinking the treehouse but I don't really have an idea for how to do it yet."

user1: TREEHOUSE

user2: treehouse treehouse treehouse

user4: do a cottage!!

user6: treehouse but make it on multiple trees and connect them with bridges

user11: it's so funny seeing bugsy just peacefully building bc usually I only catch her chaos streams

"Okay okay overwhelming amount of treehouse answers," she breathed out with a laugh as she looked around the forest for a good tree. "Thanks sarahnotfound for the ten gifted subs!"

A donation lit up in the corner of her screen and she read it out loud. "Face reveal when? Thank you, Jasmine, um..." she paused, thinking. "I don't know. I do want to eventually but I have no plans to or anything. I'm not ready to right now so it'll still be a while before I do a face reveal."

Donations and gifted subs continued, Y/n expressing her gratitude for each one of them. She had the base down for her treehouse as a large one came through.

"Dream!" she yelled angrily, a laugh bubbling behind it before sighing. "Thank you Dream." She looked away from the amount and read his message, which read, save some of that building for the smp. "DREAM! Why would you give me– ohmygosh. Is this your way of announcing to everyone that I'm joining the SMP? By giving me $100? I can't stand you." Her words were no threat since you could clearly hear the smile in her tone.

She glanced at chat before talking again and continuing her house. "Yeah, yeah, everyone, I'm joining the Dream SMP. But considering I'm fantastic at PVP, I'm not going to be doing much building. Sorry," she said now directed at Dream. "Maybe you can hire me to build something but I don't work for free."

A few minutes passed before a second donation from Dream came through.

yes I did announce it by giving you money and I'll do it again, under another $100 donation

"DREAM, I SWEAR—"

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behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

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A/N: part 3 pog! lowkey don’t really like the chapter because it’s mostly a filler but i hope you guys do!! i needed to get a lil bit of background about y/n’s ex but we’ll get deeper into it later on!

let me know how y’all like this chapter!! do you prefer parts like this with mostly social media or do you like the previous ones better when there’s a lot more written??

also thank you thank you thank for all your continuous love for this series!! it seriously means so much to me and i love y’all so much lol 

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb​ @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks​ @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn @millavalntyne

[lady-byleth]

Sooooo, Shepard had a clone right? Knowing how much Cerberus likes to go above and beyond, there's a high chance that there's more than one. And the one we meet was comatose until needed, which she never was...so what if there's a whole bunch of clones in various stages of growth that just got frozen after Shepard went rogue

And after the war Miranda decides to see if she can find the rest and uncovers a whole storage of clones. Most of them are dead, either due to complications during development or because of cryo getting interrupted during the war

But one is still alive and asleep, so Miranda tells Shepard, who has only recently been released from the hospital, and takes her there so she can decide what to do with the clone herself.

Of course Garrus is there too cuz he's not letting Shepard out of sight until he's 100% sure she's not gonna get herself blown up again

Tali, Liara, Joker and EDI obviously can't be dissuade from joining either - EDI makes a compelling argument about having to test her new body that is actually complete bullshit, she's just curious - and James and Cortez just tag along because everyone else is going and it's about clones and the have Experience.

Javik comes too, cuz he's bored and Liara made vague comments about there maybe being Cerberus agents to fight, and Kaidan has a Bad Feeling about all these knuckleheads being in one room together so he comes along to keep the peace. That's a lie actually, he's just happy to be here.

Samara somehow shows up too, though no one actually contacted her cuz no one knew how. She just heard "Shepard" and "Cerberus" and decided "that could be trouble" and here she is

Grunt would have loved to go but Wrex tells him if he can't go then Grunt can't either cuz that would be unfair.

Jack has the kids to take care of and Jacob has his kid to take care of, so they're not able to come but promise help should there be some Cerberus agents that need blowing up.

Zaeed just sends a photo of himself at the pool titled "I'm fucking retired".

So Miranda ends up having to fly a huge group of people to that lab she found, which she grumbles about but she's not fooling anyone anymore.

As it turns out the facility is completely abandoned and powered down, except for the emergency power in the lab that's supposed to keep the clones alive. They check the whole place before they descend into the basement, looking for the one pod still active that Miranda found

They move past a bunch of pods with clones ranging from young girls to women the same age as Shepard and it's both fascinating and horrifying at the same time.

Shepard for her part seems to take it pretty well though she does stick close to Garrus who slings an arm around her shoulders to steady her. Tali links arms with her and Shepard gives her a small smile.

The active pod is in the far back and, at first glance, looks empty. Liara immediately grabs the data pad sitting beside it and flips through the many charts and notes on it, frowning in thought.

She mumbles something about "no growth hormones administered", gasps a small "oh" and holds the pad out a little so Miranda can read along with her as EDI starts typing on the console attached to the pod itself

"Oh!" she says after a moment, as if to echo Liara. Joker steps up next to her, trying to make sense of what she's looking at.

"What? How evil is it gonna be?"

EDI doesn't answer but turns to Shepard, a strange sparkle in her eyes that wasn't there when she first got a body. She looks both delighted and amazed. "Shall I open it?"

Shepard looks at the pod, worries her lower lip for a moment. Garrus squeezes her gently, Tali hugs her arm closer. The rest of their group closes rank around her, steadying her with their presence.

They're all here for her, no matter what. So she nods.

"Do it."

There's a low hissing sound and a blast of cold air, fog rolls out of the pod as the lid slides open slowly. For some reason Miranda and Liara look almost giddy, though Liara has to keep pushing Javik's hand down because he keeps trying to aim his gun.

James is standing on his tip toes to see into the pod before its even fully open and almost falls over when a very unexpected sound suddenly echoes through the room.

It's a crying voice. A baby's crying voice.

Samara immediately bolts forward, the instincts of a mother taking over, and she bends down into the pod and emerges with what's indeed a baby.

"Holy shit!" James looks flabbergasted.

"Holy shit..." Cortez doesn't look any better.

"Holy shit, indeed!" Somehow Kasumi is here too.

Samara rocks the little girl in her arms, scrutinizes her closely and smiles.

"Yes, I feel a strong resemblance to you," she says, gracefully moving to a completely stunned Shepard.

If you've never seen a galactic hero speechless, suddenly confront them with a baby clone of themself and that should do the trick.

The baby of course doesn't know that, she's just screaming, probably cold and scared and disoriented. She's squirming in Samara's arms, oblivious to Liara, Miranda, Tali, Kaidan and - surprisingly - EDI who are crowding around Samara to catch a glimpse, cooing already

Samara doesn't even try calming the little girl down, she has other ideas. Before Shepard can refuse Samara deposits the baby into her arms, adjusts her grip and then steps back, an almost mischievous tilt to her serene smile.

The baby calms immediately, big eyes the same color as Shepard's blinking up at a face that will he hers one day.

Shepard is motionless, looking like someone just slapped her with a frying pan...until the baby suddenly starts squealing in delight.

The unease melts from Shepard's face, a slightly confused but warm smile replacing it, and she gently shifts the baby closer to her chest, speaking to her quietly.

Little feet kick with delight, small hands reach out to grab at her face, and careful, scarred fingers brush plump baby cheeks and Samara watches with obvious satisfaction as her friends crowd around Shepard to continue cooing at the little girl now laughing happily

Shepard doesn't see it, focused on the baby as she is, but James just bursts into tears at the adorable picture while Cortez tries to console him without looking away. .

Joker is sniffing a little bit too but instead of staying in the background he loudly says "brittle bones coming through" and pushes to the front of the group. The baby immediately steals his cap. He is delighted. EDI is delighted that he is delighted.

Javik pretends very hard not to be mesmerized by the first human baby he's ever seen. He's failing miserably, much to Kaidan's amusement.

Garrus sticks to the sidelines, arms crossed over his chest, a thoughtful expression on his face. He remembers London, the half joking half serious conversation about adopting kids after the war is finished.

He'd shelved the thought in favor of focusing on recuperating, fixing what the war had destroyed, and building up Shepard who had to wrestle with severe injuries, PTSD and survivor's guilt without the distraction of a galactic war to keep her from realizing how much she was suffering.

But...it had been months, life was slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy - as much as was possible after the heavy losses - and Shepard was getting better. Therapy was going well. She would never be fully free of what she'd been through, but she was determined to get better and Hackett had arranged for the best help in the galaxy.

She was getting better. And restless. She had started spending more time with the orphans, playing with them, teaching them.

She'd always loved children. And Garrus had been very serious about starting a family with her, not so much about the cross species babies that biologically wouldn't happen.

But here was a baby that Shepard already had a connection with, a baby that she obviously already adored. He hadn't seen her smile like that in a long time. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Yes. This could be good.

He feels Samara sidle up beside him, smiling knowingly. "You should suggest it," she says.

Garrus nods, shoots her a smile. "Yeah, I think I will."

[blue-mood-blue]

They tell him that his name is Benzaiten Steel.

They tell him that he’s been shot.

Officially, publicly, his condition is unknown - they haven’t released any details yet, pending the investigation. As he understands it, the investigation amounts to his mother and brother pointing to each other in accusation, both of them held in separate interview rooms of the HCPD while Ben lays in his hospital bed. They were hoping he could give them answers, Ben realizes when the doctor and the officer both hover around his door uncertainly before turning to go.

But Ben doesn’t remember anything. He can’t tell them if his brother in law enforcement went corrupt or if his mentally ill mother finally slipped too far. If it was an argument, or an accident, or which of his incredibly small family is more likely to lie. He wouldn’t have been able to tell them his name if they hadn’t told him first, because Ben hardly remembers anything at all.

It’s the head injury, the nurse tells him at two in the morning while she gives him more pain medication. Not from the blast, which had caught him in the shoulder and was more than enough damage to a body on its own, according to her. He must have hit his head on something on the way down, gave himself a nasty bump and some swelling. Nothing to worry about too much, she added quickly after getting a good glance at Ben’s expression. Just... just the memories might not come back. Hard to tell with these things.

Ben chews over the possibility after she leaves, slipping in and out of sleep. He should want to know, right? He should be searching for those memories, and the way he fit between them. He should be looking for himself... looking for the truth.

There are two people in his family. One of them shot him. He can’t imagine a truth there that wouldn’t tear him in two anyway.

Ben takes a moment to pity whoever it was he used to be - must’ve had a sad life, in the middle of that mess. Couldn’t possibly have been happy, in that little apartment in Oldtown, no one to call or contact besides the people led away in handcuffs. Such a small, tiring existence... didn’t he feel stifled, trapped? He does now. He thinks about going back to that, and he can’t breathe.

Ben looks at the window instead. He can make out some stars, but only a few - it’s hard to see much around the light pollution and the dome. He doesn’t remember, but logic tells him he hasn’t lived the kind of life that’s ever taken him off of Mars; he’s never seen any of those stars, or the planets around them, or their moons - not really. He thinks he might like to, and it’s almost a surprise when the thought comes to him; it’s as if his mind has been cleared of some dome hemming him in, holding him in place, and now there’s room to want. Ben feels untethered, adrift... free. Free in a way he knows, somehow, he’s never been before.

It’s a heady feeling. For the first time since waking, Ben smiles. He could be free. He could reach up to those stars and never come back down.

Benzaiten Steel might not remember anything about himself, but he learns that he’s a good actor. When the officer comes back with more questions, Ben tells them he’s afraid for his life, more afraid because he doesn’t know who or what to fear. “Be honest,” he asks, voice shaking with something (not fear, but the officer doesn’t know that). “Do you think this could happen again? Am I really safe?”

Benzaiten Steel is declared dead, and Ben boards a ship.

~~~

He still calls himself Ben; everything else, he cuts away and leaves behind as deadweight. He’s Ben Nothing, Ben Nobody, and he runs between the stars like there’s something chasing him. He finds work where he can, and he finds that the most lucrative work is the illegal kind. He finds that he’s good at it, charming people with a smile or disarming them with a few tears, and then liberating them from whatever they have in their pocket, or safe, or bank account.

Ben is happy. Ben is competent, secure, well-liked in the circles he moves through. Ben is as free as he ever wanted to be, in this life or any other. And if he feels like something unnamed is breathing down his neck some days, well, he is a thief, isn’t he? There’s always someone after him, law enforcement on several planets at least. If he avoids Mars and anywhere too close to that little, red planet, it’s his own business. There’s not much on Mars, anyway; only the Cerberus Province and the connections he could make there, and it’s a small sacrifice to make for all of the things he gets to see.

Ben isn’t lonely. He just feels a little adrift sometimes.

And it’s years before anything catches him.

He has a jewel that toppled a dynasty with the conflict it caused hidden in his pocket, and he slips into a dark, mostly empty theater to wait out the afternoon and the authorities. He already has a spot waiting for him on a ship traveling several planets away, but it won’t take off for hours. He has plenty of time.

Ben pulls out his comms to waste some hours, ignoring the movie playing on the screen; a kids’ movie, probably with the hope that whole families would make the effort of taking a trip to the theater to spend time together. It was a bad gamble, with the only person there other than Ben asleep in a chair in the corner. Ben snorts; kind of a stupid thought, that anyone would bother when they could stream whatever old movies they wanted directly to their home.

He’s in the middle of a game when he looks up at the screen. There’s a woman fighting a dragon, and he isn’t sure what caught his attention until it happens again.

“Andromeda!” someone on the screen yells.

Ben’s head hurts.

Andromeda! a younger Benzaiten yells. He can feel the warm sun beating down on him, the familiar sounds of shouting down a street somewhere too far away to worry about. His voice, thin and reedy and so young, makes its best attempt at a growl. You will never escape me!

“You will never escape me!”

His head throbs, and he could cry with how much it hurts.

I do not intend to run - I will stay and fight, because good must always succeed! Someone with his face answers back, swinging a sword made of paper towel rolls and too much duct tape, and then breaks from the script: And I’m faster than you anyway, Benten, so I can escape whenever I want to.

For a moment, he rests on the divide between Ben and Benzaiten. If he tries, he could pull back - but he also knows he could no more let go of that voice than tear his own heart out.

Juno. A knowledge from the long-dormant pieces of him whispers an answer he doesn’t ask for, as it drags the whole of his messy, painful history with it. That’s Juno. Your twin. Your family.

Benzaiten is still crying, hurt radiating from his head and his chest, and there’s no one around to care so he doesn’t stop. He watches the stupid movie three times, then boards a ship and tries to hide the evidence with makeup and a bright smile. He’s two planets away by the time he thinks about going back, all the way back, and by the time he’s three planets away he’s decided that it would be a ridiculous idea.

It’s been years. Fuck, it’s been so many years. Does Juno live in the same place? What if he’s married now; out of the two of them, he was always the one looking for someone to hold onto him. Would he even want to see Ben?

The answer should be yes, but Ben’s not an idiot, he knows reality is more complicated. Juno buried him, and mourned for him, and maybe even started to heal - and Ben had run. Run without looking back, leaving a death certificate and open wounds behind him.

Is Sarah still alive?

The question stops him cold, staring through the window and the pieces of galaxy he’s passing. If Sarah is alive, he would have to see her, too. That’s a promise he made himself a long time ago - that he wouldn’t choose between them. He was the one who held the family together. He’d always been that.

The Benzaiten in his head, the person he isn’t sure he is yet - anymore - tells him she loves you.

Ben, here and now, tells him she shot you.

Both of those things are true. And when Ben pulls away from the window, he tells himself that’s what he’s afraid of, that someone he loved hurt him and could do it again, that he might let them in the foolish, stupid need to find out if the love was still there somewhere under all of the hurt. To know trying hard enough could mean getting better.

If there’s another fear, if he can feel the gravity of Mars pulling him back and down and heavy, he doesn’t let himself think it. And he’s gotten pretty good at deception, so he might even believe it.

~~~

Ben dances more, when he remembers dancing. Nothing feels as free as the movement, as his total control over it. Not even the stars.

How much of his running was escape, and how much was just running?

~~~

He still calls himself Ben.

He has his reasons. “Benzaiten” is too memorable, and sharing a face and a last name with a sibling seems like a really good way to get that sibling into trouble. There’s a reputation in place already with the name he used. There are days when he doesn’t feel like he fits in Benzaiten’s life. He finds plenty of reasons.

He doesn’t visit. He thinks about it, comes close - as close as a planet and one ticket fare away, once - but Ben can’t bring himself to step foot in Hyperion City. Hyperion belongs to Juno, somehow. He was the one who stayed (I do not intend to run - I will stay and fight), and going home feels like... trespassing. Ben knows Juno wouldn’t say that. It doesn’t stop him from thinking it.

Hyperion City has a newspaper, though, and a subscription service that seems a little optimistic in its range. Maybe not all that optimistic, since Ben regularly takes advantage of it - between jobs, and only on his personal comms. Most of it has nothing to do with him, but he skips and skims through the digitized pages anyway, looking for whatever hints of a life he can find. Juno is a private investigator now, which doesn’t surprise Ben. There’s an engagement announcement and no following marriage announcement, which does.

(Sarah is guilty, and dead, and he doesn’t know how he feels about that. He doesn’t linger on the thought.)

Sometimes, when he feels brave, he imagines what it could be like. So what’s this about a gala at that new art gallery? You know, the one that lasted a whole night before it got blown up?

Juno’s laughter from the other side of the comms connection, maybe a little too young. Uh huh, I heard. The HCPD put it all over the news, along with how they saved the day. Or didn’t you hear that part?

They can say whatever they want, I know a Juno Steel case when I see one. Now, Ben adjusts on the bed, miles and miles away, glancing at the window to see if he can get a peek back the way he came, tell me everything.

Maybe the next time you come to see me, Juno says, and just like that the thought disintegrates. He can never put too many words in Juno’s mouth; there are just too many things he doesn’t know.

Ben gets lucky one day and sees a whole half a picture of Juno, looking out on a crowd. He’s not the focus - he’s standing next to some politician in the middle of a speech, a Ramses O’Flaherty who makes a lot of promises that sound like the “too good to be true, but wouldn’t it be nice” kind - but Ben will take what he can get. He can’t decide if Juno has more or less scars than he would have expected, given his line of work. He wonders how they all got there. Juno is standing on the stage with the politician; he must buy some of those promises to put himself so clearly in the man’s corner.

There’s a kind of worry in his gut about it, but Ben tries to take it as a good sign. The Juno he knew had a hard time trusting people; it would be nice if he’d found someone to believe in. It would be nice if that trust is well-placed.

Ben has to leave his comms behind for a job, taking a burner along instead, so he gets the results of the election at the same time he gets the announcement of O’Flaherty’s death and the conspiracy over Newtown. It doesn’t have to mean anything - just another politician who wasn’t what he seemed to be, or didn’t manage to hang on long enough to make good on his promises. That’s all it is.

He still looks for Juno in the stories he reads. He can’t seem to find him, anymore.

~~~

For the first time since they were nineteen, Benzaiten sees Juno across the room.

For a moment, he feels like he’s seen a ghost. A ridiculous thought, from the dead twin.

Juno Steel is so far away from Hyperion City, talking to Zolotovna in a resplendent dress as if he’s lived the kind of life that makes him belong, immediately and implicitly, among the disgustingly rich. Ben, who is there for a reason, he knows he’s there for a reason but fuck if he can remember why, tries not to make it obvious that he’s staring. He’s failing at that, he knows.

But Juno is here. Juno is here in the room with him, so different than he remembers, with so many more scars. With one less eye. Ben wants to ask when that happened, wants to demand that story, just as much as he wants to fade into the crowd and run.

He feels untethered; he feels like, if he runs, he’ll never find his way back again. Just this once, Ben lets himself understand that the tug of gravity pulling him back was never a leash around his neck as much as it was a rope around his middle - giving him a way back home. Juno had always been his anchor, keeping him from drifting too far.

There’s no going back, now. There’s no going home, no home to go back to.

Juno’s glance turns in his direction, and Ben is about to duck out of the way - an amateur move, guaranteed to catch his sibling’s eye, but he thinks he can be forgiven for being a little bit off his game - when Ben realizes he’s not who Juno is looking for. A man slips by him, tall and confident and familiar in a way that tells Ben exactly why he should be familiar. Juno can’t seem to help the way his face changes when he spots the man.

So the thief grabbed at Juno’s heart and pulled him away from Hyperion. That’s why Juno is here. It’s... infuriating, because there’s no way a common con deserves Juno Steel. Because it was never a thought in Ben’s head that Juno could be convinced to leave Hyperion, and he never thought to ask. (I do not intend to run. Running was Ben’s job.)

Ben is ready to do something stupid. He’s halfway across the ballroom, walking directly towards his brother well and aware that the impact will cause an explosion of a scene, when he sees Juno tilt his head.

There’s a comms in his ear.

Ben has been a thief long enough to recognize the habits of another thief - especially a new one.

He doesn’t remember what he came to this event for, but there’s nothing, mark or prize or job, that Benzaiten wants more than to understand the stranger in the dress who almost has his face. If he breaks something with an impulsive decision, he thinks as he continues to cross the room, well - wouldn’t be the first time.

He’ll let himself be selfish. That’s what Ben does.

[awlwren-writes]

Hi! Love your work! Idk if you are still taking drabble prompts, but if you are, 38 "You fainted straight into my arms...if you wanted my attention so bad you could have asked". Pelna Khara/ Crowe Altius, with Crowe catching, please! If you are no longer taking requests, then still know you are awesome regardless and need to know it. Happy new year!

I was going to wait until after Febuwhump, because that took up a lot of time, and then until Nyx Week when I realized how close that was, before I finished before finally responding to this, but I had a bit of time and figured you'd waited long enough. I'm so sorry for the three month delay, Anon. You are amazing and this ask made me so so very happy.

This takes place during the opening battle of the movie. I hope it's worth the wait!

As soon as Crowe saw the Cerberus, she knew Libertus was lost. She'd been doing this long enough she could run the odds, and knew what was going to happen, so she tried to seal her heart against the pain. She was dimly grateful for Pelna tugging her away, because that's probably what Libertus would have wanted, but she didn't really have the energy at the moment to acknowledge that or him. As if the tri-tornado and the rest of this slogging, drawn-out loss hadn't drained her enough, she had to find a way to stem the bleeding of her heart before she completely lost it and just...fell down and didn't get back up.

And then Nyx decided she hadn't lost enough and ran back after Libertus so he could die as well. She was so tired of being surrounded by friends who ran full tilt away from her into the waiting arms of death.

They'd thrown everything they had at that daemon and it had devastated the entire Glaive in one shot, what did he think he could do? She begged and pleaded with him just to come back, but he didn't even acknowledge her, even to apologize for what he was doing. The only response she got was the steady tugging on her arms as she stumbled along and the low refrain of Pelna muttering reassurances as he brought her to the evac point, plus the crackle of flames and screams of the daemons in her radio.

But Nyx was Nyx, and somehow he managed to save the day yet again and bring both of them out of there. She stumbled yet again when she heard the report, this time in relief, and this time Pelna stumbled with her. She instinctively tried to catch him, but she was off-balance enough to start with they both ended up going down.

"We should have known that idiot would be able to warp such petty things as reality and consequences, huh?" she muttered, clutching Pelna against her as if it would keep either of them from falling further, hoping he couldn't hear how wet her voice was.

But Pelna, steady Pelna, almost as quick with a quip as Nyx and readier with a smile and a helping hand than anyone she knew, didn't reply.

"Hey," she said, jostling him, but he only groaned slightly and stayed limp. She laid him on the ground and searched frantically for what was wrong, hoping it was something she could fix, and finally finding a spray of shrapnel that had shredded his pants above the knee where blood was still sluggishly leaking free, concealed by the dark material. But his pulse was steady, and that meant he'd be fine, right? She wasn't playing this trade-one-life-for-another game; that was a bigger pile of shit than the Draconian probably left.

"Medic!" she called, desperately, but it was lost in the crowd of returning glaives, many of whom were also worse for the war. She pushed away the guilt that he had walked on that leg, practically carrying her off the battlefield, without saying anything. That wasn't her fault, and she needed to be able to think right now. "Medic!" she called over the command channels, hoping for a better response.

Thankfully Luche was still listening, and he dispatched a stretcher and a healthy glaive that could help her bring Pelna back to the triage center, and between the two of them they were able to move him without too much difficulty. She was surprised to find herself muttering prayers and mantras the whole time the carried him like she hadn't since she was a kid; she hadn't realized how much she depended on Pelna until he faltered like this, but she really, really needed him to make it out.

Thankfully the medics were able to bind up the wound and get some blood into him, and told her that would probably do until they could make it back to town. She missed Lib being brought back to camp as she waited with Pelna, holding his hand and keeping him updated on the reports coming in over their comms -- she knew he'd want to be kept in the loop as much as possible -- but she knew Lib was in good hands. It was her turn to support Pelna.

She used the chance to sit and rest to just look at Pelna, try to really see him. She thought back over the long length of their friendship, never the closest in the group, but always there, always together. Pelna was their rock, and it shook her to see him like this, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized it wasn't worry for the group's stability that had her so shaken; it was for Pelna himself.

How many times had he hauled her out of danger like this, or one of the others? It seemed sometimes like the two of them were the only ones who had to sit and wait on their more reckless friends when they pulled stunts like this. How many times had he stopped by with a little treat just when she needed it -- a sweet, an offer to sharpen her blades, a bit of obscure arcane trivia or bit of intel just when she needed it? She'd never really tallied it all up, but he was always there, always watching when she needed it, willing to wait whatever storm was brewing out beside her until she was ready to face it.

She wasn't willing to lose that. Not if she could help it. And so she was going to do something about it, and let Pelna know that he wasn't the only one watching, that he had support, too, and didn't always have to do it all for them. And Pelna was clever enough, strong enough she just might be able to save him.

So when Pelna finally roused, an hour or so into her vigil, just before they were ready to get out of there, she let the medics do their checks, then slipped back into place at his bedside. She punched him lightly and greeted him with a level of snark that he would be proud of, she was pretty sure: "You fainted straight into my arms...if you wanted my attention so bad you could have asked".

He blushed beautifully at the comment, and that's when she knew she had him.

[theoriginalladya]

A Constant Wish

A Constant Wish

Summary:  An anniversary, but not of the enjoyable kind. Nine years on, and Commander Shepard is still dealing with the fallout from Akuze. It's up to Kaidan Alenko to guide him through it.

Tags: Sole Survivor, survivor’s guilt, death, grief, Akuze, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, mshenko

Characters: Caleb Shepard, Kaidan Alenko

NOTE: Four years ago today, my mother lost her battle with cancer. Today, even though I knew the date in my head, it didn't connect until my youngest brother mentioned something in our family text chat. It hit me like a ton of bricks, just as it did then. I've learned to move on, to keep going, to keep living, but this day each year is always the hardest fucking day to get through. And so I wrote this with her in mind for my Caleb Shepard who has his own ghosts to deal with.

Love you, Mom.

A daily thought, a silent tear, A constant wish that you were here

~~~~

Kaidan wakes suddenly, inexplicably, to darkness and the sense that something isn’t quite right.  Not a nightmare, not someone waking him with a touch or a sound, but that unerring feeling that something is just… off.  It isn’t panic so much as a general unease, but he’s used to listening to his gut these days; it’s saved his life or that of a squadmate or even Shepard himself more than once.  

Shepard.

Rolling over, he discovers the bed is empty but for him.  That sends his heart racing faster than he expects and he nearly falls face first to the floor as he scrambles out from beneath the covers.  The time it takes to yank on his sweats and a t-shirt seems an eternity, but he is fully aware thanks to the cold flooring beneath bare feet.  

A thorough search of the upper part of the apartment finds nothing out of the ordinary.  The side note to that is he also fails to locate Shepard.  Granted, he still has half the apartment to investigate, but the fact he cannot find a recent trace of his presence is a bit disconcerting.

He descends to the lower level and begins by checking the back room.  Empty. Next, the living room and the bar. Also, empty.  The lights in the kitchen are dim, just the way they left them when they headed upstairs after dinner.  Still no sign of the man.  

Kaidan tacks his way across to the opposite set of stairs to head back up – maybe he missed him in passing?  As he walks past the hall branching off to his right into the den, habit has him glancing that direction.  In front of the faint flickering fire light, he catches a silhouette; a familiar shape seated at the poker table, hunched over, glass in hand. Unease morphs to concern and curiosity, and he pads down the hallway, calling out softly as he reaches the doorway, “Shepard?  You okay?”

The silhouette jerks suddenly as if startled, then relaxes with an exhale of breath.  “I’m fine, mo ghrá.”

Kaidan takes the response as an invitation to join him, and he slides into a seat at the table.  “Drinking alone?  In the dark? Gonna have to do a better job of convincing me you’re fine,” he challenges, albeit gently.

Shepard huffs; a soft sound and one nearly drowned out by the pop and crackle of the fire.  He sets the glass on the table, rises to his feet, and walks over to the small bar in the corner.  Within moments, he returns with a bottle and a second glass.  This he fills and pushes towards Kaidan, then tops off his own before reclaiming his seat.  “Not alone now, am I?” he asks, setting the bottle down with a heavy thud next to what look to be four playing cards.  

From his position and in the dimly lit room, Kaidan can’t tell which ones they are.  However, knowing Shepard as he does, he can guess their purpose.  Why are you down here drinking and doing card readings in the darkest hours of the night?

Taking the glass in both hands, he pulls it close but does not drink just yet.  Before anything else, he wants, needs, some answers.  “What are we drinking to?”

“Not what,” Shepard declares, blue eyes piercing through the dark to meet Kaidan’s as he lifts his head, “who.”

Kaidan acquiesces with a slight cant of his head. “All right.  Who?”

Shepard lifts his glass in salute.  “Sergeant Angela Nevarra.”

Kaidan frowns.  The name sounds hazily familiar; he’s heard it before but cannot place it.

“Sergeants Carter, Evans and Decatur,” Shepard continues, clearly not expecting a response.  “Corporals Harris, Simmons, Grassini, Aoki, and Meijer.  Malik, Masterson, Owens, Jenson, Weston, Alvarez…”

Kaidan listens in silence but keeps his eyes on Shepard’s face as he continues to list them off.  As the list gets longer, comprehension dawns.  Shepard stops reciting names at forty-eight and the quiet surrounds them again.  Cautiously, Kaidan asks quietly about one name that was not mentioned.  “What about Toombs?”

“Toombs.”

There is a hint of brutality in the way Shepard says the name which Kaidan doesn’t quite understand.  For everyone else associated with Akuze, there is a fondness, a reverence almost in the way their former commander speaks of them, but with Toombs, it’s different.  “That’s his name, isn’t it?  The one we ran into on Ontarom?  Back –”

Shepard tosses back the last of his whiskey, swallows it in a large gulp, and shakes his head sharply once.  “Aye, I remember.”  He slams the glass onto the table with enough force the platform quakes for a moment.  “Heard from him last year, did I ever tell you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Kaidan shakes his head anyway.  The time they’ve spent together since his recovery, since the war began, they’ve avoided the more… controversial topics.  Not that Kaidan blames him for not bringing it up; it’s probably just as well.

With a soft snort, Shepard grabs the bottle and pours another two-fingers worth of whiskey.  This is the third drink Kaidan is aware of, and he can’t help but wonder how many Shepard drank when he was alone, before Kaidan found him. 

Their eyes meet again, and the look in them… Well, Kaidan understands now just why the man’s name in Irish is sealgaire, the hunter.  It’s all Kaidan can do to hold his ground.  And, that is knowing that the look isn’t directed at him.

Shepard’s scowl is dark and foreboding as he tosses back this drink, and there is a vehemence in his voice Kaidan has only heard maybe twice since he’s known him.  “Threaten me without knowing what happened?” the commander bites out.  “Briseadh agus brú ar do chnámha!  Go hifreann leat!”**

Kaidan reacts immediately, reaching forward and prying the glass from Shepard’s long fingers.  “Okay, Shepard, that’s enough.  I’m calling time for the night.”

Shepard struggles momentarily, apparently not satisfied, but a moment later releases his hold.  Sighing heavily, he covers his face with his hands.  “Tá brón orm,”**

Kaidan pushes the glasses and bottle across the table and out of easy reach and moves to crouch beside him.  “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Shepard’s hands drop away, and when the blue eyes meet his again, Kaidan recognizes the truth.  His mother once told him that if an Irish man or woman expressed true sorrow for something, there would be matching sadness in their eyes.  The sheer magnitude of the sorrow he sees in Shepard’s gaze just now is enough to level the Reapers and end the war three weeks ago, he thinks.  He reaches over and runs a hand along Shepard’s cheek in a gentle caress of understanding. “Hey.”  

Shepard leans into the touch, eyes closing.  When they open again the sorrow still lingers, but not with the same intensity.  Without the glass before him to toy with, he reaches for the playing cards lying face up. “D’you see these?”

Kaidan spares them a glance, tilting his head to get a better look.  “Did you do another reading?”

“Aye,” Shepard agrees, “but not tonight.  These…  This was my reading that night.  On Akuze, before the attack.”

Past – Two of Spades.

Present – Ten of Spades.

Future – King of Clubs.

Crossing Present – Ten of Diamonds.

None of it makes much sense to Kaidan – it never has – so he looks expectantly at Shepard.  When he remains silent, Kaidan asks, “What did they tell you?”

Shepard pauses for a moment, turning his head to look straight at Kaidan.  “That my world was going to go all to hell once again, but that this time, on the other side, I would find a path to my future…”

Kaidan looks at the cards again.  He recognizes the King of Clubs – it comes up often in Shepard’s readings, though Kaidan isn’t aware of any special attachment to it. The rest he can’t tell of he’s seen in readings before or not.  Shepard’s hand flops onto Kaidan’s shoulder, his fingers toying with his hair near his collar.  When Kaidan smiles back, Shepard’s eyes flare with an intensity that might be unsettling under other circumstances, but thanks to recent events in their lives, he has a much better idea of how to deal with.  

Rising to his feet, he sighs.  Any further explanation on the cards can wait until the man is sober again.  “Come on, we need to get you back to bed, I think.”

Shepard follows without comment or question, and, surprisingly, without stumbling.  When they reach the stairs, Shepard surprises Kaidan by sliding his arms around his waist and hugging close to his back, resting his head on his shoulder.  “You understand, aye?”

Already a step above the man, Kaidan stops and half turns to face him.  The question is very open-ended and he cannot miss the obvious pain.  It isn’t difficult to guess what he is referencing. “About Cerberus?”  Shepard nods.  Sighing softly, Kaidan wraps one arm over Shepard’s at his waist, and tilts his head close enough to ghost a quick kiss across his lips.  “Do you honestly think I would be here now if I didn’t?”

Shepard’s face screws up in confusion for a moment, an endearing look Kaidan doubts the commander would ever agree with if he is made aware of it, so Kaidan keeps the observation to himself.  Running his free hand over Shepard’s cheek again, he clarifies quietly, “Yes, mo shearc,** I understand.  You are not them; you never were.”

Hope wars with uncertainty behind those blue eyes; it’s strange to see Shepard this vulnerable, and a little disconcerting.  How much is the drink and how much just… is?

“You really believe that?”

Kaidan nods.  “Aye, I do,” he replies, echoing Shepard’s usual response and leaning in for another kiss. “Now, come on.  You need to sleep this off.  We can talk more about it later if you like.”  Though, as they ascend the stairs together, he is pretty certain it won’t ever come up again anytime soon.  Perhaps this time next year, but not before.  At least now, Kaidan is prepared.

~~~~ 

** mo ghrá = my love

** Briseadh agus brú ar do chnámha!  =  A breaking and crushing on your bones!

**Go hifreann leat! = To hell with you!

** Tá brón orm = I’m sorry

** mo shearc = my love

[oh-boy-me]

How do you think the brothers would react to an MC that can charm animals like a Disney princess?

Lucifer:

To say he was surprised to see them cuddled up and napping with Cerberus when he entered his study was an understatement.

Cerberus only likes Lucifer, he’s lived with all seven of the brothers for ages and still only likes Lucifer.  So for MC to be using him as a pillow?  And for Cerberus to be ok with it?  Enjoying it even?  Wack.

Seeing his favorite pup and one of his favorite humans getting along hits him right in the eldest child feels.

It doesn’t affect too much, but he does brag about it whenever a mildly appropriate time comes up.  Like when your mom references a talent at a barbecue and you’re like “what no mom I’m not gonna do it on command.”  Lucifer is the mom.

Mammon:

Oh Mammon smells an opportunity to make some sweet bank.

No no no just hear him out, so MC and him will set up an “instant discipline for misbehaving pets” stand in a busy section of the Devildom, and MC’s presence will keep the animals docile.  The customers will think they’ve been trained and pay Mammon a boatload of cash!

And they’ll get out of there quickly before anyone can realize that their pets started misbehaving again as soon as they got home.  Profit!  MC can have some too.  They’ll split it 70/30.

His brothers ask if the reason why he’s so attached to them is because they can charm animals and he’s basically an animal.  He vehemently denies being attached to them.

Mammon why is that the part you felt the need to deny?

Leviathan:

“Can we get Henry 1.0 back????  Like, if we go down to the labyrinth under the Demon Lord’s castle, could we get him back?”  No you can’t Levi he’s bigger than your entire bedroom at this point.

Ok so Henry 1.0 is out of the question but Henry 2.0 the goldfish?  OMG the two of them could teach Henry tricks, Henry could be an acrobatic goldfish.

Constantly finding new tricks to teach him and texting MC to come over and help him with it.  He posts videos to his social media and tags them in every post.  He’s so proud of all three of them for putting this together.

He’s having so much fun away from his computer for once that one has to wonder if Levi was the one that was charmed.

Satan:

Charm animals + cat cafe = profit

If MC thought Satan was always down to hang out before?  It suddenly seems like he’s almost always free.  Y’know.  Just in case MC is available to go to a pet store or something.

Satan is pretty good with animals, but the really timid ones still evade him.  But with MC?  He could read a book surrounded by cats or share a muffin with a hedgehog.  If that isn’t better than the Celestial Realm he doesn’t know what is.

Secretly hopes he can catch MC playing with a wild animal because that would be probably the cutest thing he’ll ever see.

If he does, he’ll take a photo of it to use both as blackmail and as a bargaining tool.  And to look at when he’s feeling stressed, but mainly the first two.

Asmodeus:

Oh, a fellow charmer?  An ally??  Or, perchance, a rival???

Asmodeus makes a point to try to be more charming than they are, regardless of if they’re doing it on purpose.  They see a cat that they want to pet?  Oh kitty wouldn’t you rather be pet by ~me?~

Pet hair isn’t good for his clothes and irritates his skin, so he dumps his victories on Satan.

Because of this, Satan actively encourages their competitions.

Also tries to train them in the ways of charming things and people, but with little success.  Or, at least, none that can’t be attributed to Asmo himself.

Honestly leave it to Asmo to make petting dogs into a competition, I’m so sorry MC.

Beelzebub:

To put it plainly, Beelzebub thinks it’s absolutely amazing.  Adorable too.  When he finds out, he almost seems like a kid who saw a commercial for his favorite action figure.

He really wants them to go on jogs with him so he can pet all the dogs they run into on the route.

He probably also tries to sneak Cerberus out of the house to run with them.  MC can make sure he stays behaved, right?  There should be nothing to worry about!  RIP both of them if Lucifer finds out, which he will.

“Beel don’t you already have a dog friend in Luke?”

Even if they can’t go out with Cerberus, he will still want to become better friends with the doggo.  Belphie would probably love for the four of them to take a nap together.

Belphegor:

This could go one of two ways.

Option one: MC attracts puppies and kitties and other cuddle buddies, and he’s thrilled.  Nap buddies!!  Cute nap buddies!!!  MC you are staying right here with him and napping with him and all these nap buddies.

Option two: MC attracts something like birds and they won’t shut up and he’s trying to nap and MC will you please tell your bird friend to go away.

MC has infinite power in their hands, and it is up to them how they choose to use it.  Belphegor’s bite is almost equivalent to his bark, though, so they might want to watch out.

Can he really do anything to stop them, though?  It’s not like they’ll run out of birds.

Masterlist

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge Day 30 - End

Summary: Well... Alistair’s dying again. At least this time, he took the Reapers out with him.

(Mentions of blood, some limb loss without description) 

---

Yep... he was dying alright. This was definitely the worse of his two deaths.

Alistair could barely groan as he lay there among the rubble, coughing up what was probably blood. It was hard to see then... one eye was definitely fucked up, possibly gone. Ironically it was the one he had lost the first time. Talk about things coming full circle.

At least the Child was gone.

Yes, there in the ruined Citadel chamber, he was finally alone. The conductor lay smoking in the distance when he had finally managed to shoot something from a distance. Things had gotten crazy after that... now he was laying in a pile of rocks, actively bleeding out.

And he had thought the crushing pressure of space was bad.

Somewhere nearby lay the modified body of the Illusive Man. Had he the strength to get up, he would've gone over to give the corpse a good kick. Then again... Anderson was close at hand too. He shouldn't see something like that.

Well... he would be joining him soon.

“Least it's over...”

Blood bubbled at his lips as he gazed up at the ceiling. It was starting to get hard to see – probably the blood loss. Either that or the massive ache at the base of his skull that could have only been a malfunctioning biotic amp about to blow. Part of him wanted to see what would kill him first. Either way, he was about to be the third body.

At least he would be the last body of the Reaper War.

Even though he couldn't see it, Alistair felt it. That one shot had ended it all. The Reapers had lost at last, after untold millennia of fucking up sentient species for the hell of it. They had lost to an idiot with limited depth perception, generalized anxiety, and an inability to control his blood sugar.

Take that, you synthetic fucks.

He coughed again – it was getting weaker now. His vision was starting to fade even more. Maybe he had a minute or two left before the end. Alistair wondered if he shouldn't have been more upset, but then again this wasn't his first time dying. He had been living on borrowed time... now it was his chance to return it.

His only regret was never getting to see Bo or Garrus again.

That hurt almost as much as his amp overloading. His last memories of either of them were on the chaos of the battle for Earth. Hell, for all he knew they were dead. The Reapers could have shot the Normandy down when they were evacuating and he just hadn't seen it.

If it had... well... he was in for some nasty words on the other side. At least he and Joker would be even at one death a piece.

“I wish I could've said more...”

It was getting harder to speak now. The overwhelming, unbearable pain in multiple parts of his body was starting to ebb away. No doubt about it, this was the end. All he could do was prepare for what was to come.

At least he closed his eyes. He had never liked coming upon bodies all splayed out, wide-eyed and staring at the living. It was kind of gross. Then again, Alistair doubted anyone was going to be able to find him before he was a skeleton.

Maybe that was for the best... bodies got kind of gross.

As his world went black and all feeling ceased, Alistair had one last thought. The sun was going to rise on Earth tomorrow. It was still there, even if he wasn't. They had managed to do what not even the Protheans could. It was over.

It was over... and so was he. So he let himself go, floating away to wherever he went the first time. At least this time, there were no Collectors.

---

The funny thing about dying was that it wasn't supposed to fucking hurt so badly.

'You aren't through yet.'

Shut the fuck up and let him die in peace... noisy ass ghost or god or whatever.

'Strange, you aren't normally this rude. Oh well... they're waiting for you.'

A haze of dull agony surrounded him like a blanket. Funny, the first time he had died it had been over rather quickly. One moment he was floating in the blackness of space as pressure crushed him like a tin can... and then he was waking up on a Cerberus base as it all went to hell.

…

Fuck you have GOT to be kidding him. Was he ever going to get to die in peace?

The first feeling he got back was the tips of his fingers. Toes came back too, not enough to wiggle but he felt the pain no matter what. On a scale of 1 to 10, it was get him some fucking pain medicine or finish killing him.

There was noise somewhere, he wasn't sure where. It sounded...

“Folks, it's the bottom of the 7th inning, the bases are loaded and the score is tied 5-5. Batting fifth for the Luna Bats is Luna colony's very own Jim O'Reilly.

Like a baseball game. And if he heard that score right, his Bats were tied with their best pitch hitter up!

“I can't believe he's fucking missing this.”

“So if he hits the ball and nobody catches it, that means they run around the squares and score?”

“Bases, Mandibles, I already explained it to you. Damn it, Al, you got me explaining baseball now.”

He knew those voices. They belonged to Bo and to Garrus. Unless they were all dead and watching baseball from the afterlife, then they were alive and well enough to complain. Given the fact his sister hated baseball... that was another point to him being alive.

That's a strike.”

“It's a ball, it was outside the box.” Another groan. “For fuck's sake.”

The count is now 3-2. And the pitch-

Alistair could feel his heart pump faster at the sound of a bat somewhere cracking when it made contact with the ball. He could picture it, flying far off into the center field stands and above the head of the outfielders.

And he was missing it...

“Fuck... it's a grand slam.”

Miracles did happen. Not only had they saved the universe from the Reapers, but his Bats had pulled a grand slam out of their ass.

By now, there was more feeling in his body. He couldn't move, not yet anyway. However, he was starting to get the feeling he could make his mouth move. It took effort, far more than he had, but he managed to get a sound out. He would have called it a groan, but that was being generous. A death murmur was more like it... only he wasn't dead.

Slowly, he managed to maneuver his eyes to opening. Then he shut them – too bright. Wherever he was glowed brighter than when he had shot to end it all. Now he was starting to get a headache – what a thing to add to his problems.

He still couldn't sit up... but he could probably try to talk.

“Are we winning?”

That sent crazy amounts of motion into play. Someone – he assumed Garrus from the sound of talons on tile – ran off to probably get a doctor. Something landed heavy at his side – that was probably Bo. She was close enough that he could feel her shaking.

She was pissed.

“I can't fucking...” despite that, she laughed. “Fucking Luna Bats, I should've known that would bring you back.”

Alistair's head was pounding, but he could still talk. “How long?”

It had to be some time – before the Bats had suspended their season due to the war, it had been at the very beginning. From the sound of things, they were going into a playoff run. At the very least... months. Possibly years, if they were finally good.

Nah, probably not years – O'Reilly probably only had two seasons left in him at this rate.

“Over two months, you asshole. You died twice.” Her voice was thick with emotion she was barely containing. “And in the end it's the fucking Luna Bats that bring you back. Not me, not Garrus, but the Bats!”

She was laughing still, despite how annoyed she sound. It was probably the best sound Alistair had ever heard. He would have probably laughed too, but it fucking hurt too much. Hopefully wherever his boyfriend was, he was getting a doctor with some heavy duty pain medicine.

“It took a miracle I guess...” he cracked one eye open. “What's their record?”

It was a miracle he didn't get socked in the arm, but Alistair quickly realized that was because he didn't have one. It had just been a brief glance, but there was definitely something missing on his right side. No wonder he couldn't wiggle his fingers on the right side: they were gone.

But... if their record was winning.

“I'd say your priorities were fucking awful, but you did kind of save the universe so I'll give you a pass.”

“Thanks.”

Couldn't move the toes on his left foot either... bad sign there. At least he still had all his fingers on his dominant hand. The universe had been kind for once.

Still... it was true. He was in a hospital, there was a doctor coming with hopeful amounts of pain medicine to help him. All of this  meant one simple thing: the Reapers were gone. Well, either that or they also liked the Luna Bats.

It was maybe the only thing they agreed on.

“So... we won then.”

Bo sounded calmer as she got up – probably for whatever medical staff was coming. “Yeah. We won. We won and we got you back. Forget hamsters, you're a fucking cat with how many lives you got to burn there.”

Well, he was good at stopping at life 4 or 5. Dying was unpleasant and he had done it way more than anyone had right to do and still come back. This was the last time, he promised to whatever universal figure was listening.

Still, as the medical staff freaked out around him upon his waking up, Alistair found he was pretty relaxed. Whatever happened, nothing could have been worse than facing down the Reapers and making the choice left to him. He could get past anything after that.

But... yeah... the pain meds would definitely help. His brain was throbbing. At least he was pretty sure his amp hadn’t exploded, because then yeah he would have definitely been dead...

Honestly, an injury update would have been lovely, if just to know how many parts he was missing and what he had broken in his final hit on the Reapers. At any rate, he was going to need to know how bad off he was once he put his papers in. After all, if he was going to live... might as well do it as a free man.

It wasn’t quite the end he had expected, but it was his. At least he had most of his limbs? Or at the very least half... he would have to ask about that later, once it was easier to see in a bright room.

Again, pain meds, great idea...

[xb-squaredx]

Please Don’t Sleep on Hades

2020’s…been a real year, huh? At a time when in-person gatherings aren’t much of a thing and people have to stay in, video games are suddenly a pretty attractive option. That said, few games have really grabbed me this year; in a roundabout way, 2020’s been a year of reruns, as I go through a lot of games I’ve already played or games that are just yesterday’s news (but new to me!). However, in the nick of time, the folks at Supergiant Games delivered unto us their latest title, Hades. While they’ve been working on this game for years, with it hitting Early Access on Steam back in 2018, the full version of Hades finally hit Steam, the Epic Game Store and made the leap to consoles with the Switch, which is where I picked it up. It has been a WHILE since I’ve had a game grab me so strongly so early on, and I’ve been hearing this game’s praises for years now already, so allow me to happily state why I think Hades is worthy of the hype and is a fantastic game I’d easily recommend!

DADDY ISSUES

OK, so first things first…you don’t actually play as Hades in this game, but rather his son Zagreus. Ol’ Zag has had it with his father, and tries to literally fight his way out of hell to reach the surface, and no matter what his old man puts in his way, Zagreus (and the player) will meet the challenge. And probably die, but hey, that’s OK! In the underworld, death is more of an inconvenience than anything else, so after taking a moment to dust himself off, Zagreus will head out for another attempt. For as long as it takes.

Hades is a rogue-like, meaning it’s a game based around randomization and adaptation. On any given “run” of the game, the level layouts, enemies present and the variety of power-ups Zagreus can find will be left to chance, with the player challenged to amass the best build they can to eventually break out of hell and reach the human world and if you die…start from scratch. That said, Hades is among the ever-growing sub-genre of rogue-lites, in that there IS some permanent progression, which takes a bit of a sting out of dying, but more on that later. Now, most games of this type aren’t really big on story. They have a premise that’s little more than an excuse to play. Splunkey wants you to explore a cave, The Binding of Isaac sees you escaping a basement and in Enter the Gungeon you uh…e-enter the gun—you get the point! But what separates Hades from most rogue-likes/lites is that there actually IS a very interesting story that unfolds as you play.

There’s more to Zag’s desire to get to the surface than just getting away from his father, though their strained relationship certainly doesn’t help matters, and over the course of your many, MANY escape attempts, players learn of the rather screwed-up nature of Zagreus’ family of deities, though any mythology nut could tell you to expect that. Hades has an incredibly charismatic cast, superb voice acting across the board, and some real sharp writing that really got me wanting to meet anyone and everyone and learn more about this world. You’re likely to run into Hypnos first, who always has a “tip” ready for you when you meet your end to a given enemy or hazard, or the fabled hero Achilles, who acts as a mentor to Zagreus. There’s Dusa, the adorably frazzled flying gorgon head who acts as the House of Hades’ maid, and of course…Megaera, of the Furies.

She serves as the first proper boss in the game, and will be a pretty sizable challenge for most players, but as you eventually overcome her again and again, she and Zagreus end up attempting to reconnect with each other, and her recurring fights become an excuse to flirt and test each other. I may as well say too that it’s easy to fall in love with the characters in this game because…I-I mean, just look at them! This game is a bisexual’s paradise, that’s all I’ll say.

A bit of a fun fact, but Zagreus’ voice actor, Darren Korb, is also a composer at Supergiant, so he’s a man of many talents, since Hades has a killer score. From the laid-back tunes at the House of Hades where you can unwind and recharge after a botched run, to the pulse-pounding boss theme, there’s some GREAT music on display here. And that’s before you meet Orpheus and Eurydice, two characters with amazing singing voices that, if you play your cards right, might start singing together. The game’s visuals, meanwhile, aren’t a slouch either. While the level layouts are randomized, everything manages to look well-crafted, each region of the underworld having their own distinct look and feel. The fiery pits of Asphodel end up juxtaposing well with the paradise that is Elysium. Now, character models are generally less-detailed since the camera stays zoomed out to give players a good view of the action, but the portraits for the various characters more than make up for it with their distinct, detailed designs. A-And I’m not just saying that because everyone’s hot! Now, admittedly you might take a look at Zag and think he’s nothing but an edgelord and the game itself might be taking itself too seriously, but in reality, Hades strikes a pretty good balance, and definitely carries a sense of humor. Characters love to snark at each other, the various Shades chilling in the House of Hades’ lounge have some funny conversations you can listen in on and all told, the game only gets serious when appropriate. Really, I have no real complaints with the game on a presentation level; it’s all aces so far, and thankfully the game-y part follows suit!

LIVE.DIE. REPEAT.

Hades is best described as a dungeon-crawler. You have an isometric view as you move about, avoiding hazards and fighting off enemies as you climb each chamber on your way to the surface. Defeat every enemy in a chamber and get a reward. Sounds simple enough until you factor in all of the various permutations of events; Hades aims to make sure no two runs are alike, with different enemies, power-ups and challenges awaiting you. All of this is doled out slowly, as with each subsequent playthrough you begin to have more of the game unraveled. First and foremost, Zagreus can gain various Boons from the other Olympian Gods, who are sympathetic to his plight and lend him some power if he makes contact with them. Each God has their own twist on the abilities they grant Zagreus. They can all increase his stats in some way, or affect either his dash ability or his Cast, a projectile attack. For Zeus, naturally, all of Zagreus’ moves will gain an electric effect, whereas Artemis focuses more on upping Zag’s critical hit chance. Dionysus, the God of Wine, grants you the “hangover” status effect, allowing your attacks to uh…make enemies drunk? Sure! You’ll be given a random selection of three Boons to pick from, of varying rarities. Over the course of a run, you might try to nab as many Boons from the same God as possible, or vary it up and see which abilities synchronize together. At times, you might even be granted a Duo Boon, where two Gods decide to combine their power for a special ability that plays to both of their strengths. Still, at other times, you might be forced into a Trial of the Gods, where you must choose one God’s Boon over the other, with the snubbed God lashing out afterwards. Hey, just because they’re Gods, doesn’t mean they’re nice. Of course, you’ve also got a variety of health and weapon upgrades too. In fact, let’s gush about the weapons for a second, shall we?

At the time of writing, Hades has six weapons to play with. You start with a sword, which is the all-rounder of the set, but as you gain keys to unlock more weapons, you can start to really experiment. The bow and rail cannon serve as ranged options with different approaches, while the spear is the melee weapon with the best range at the cost of pure power. The shield grants you absolute defense at the cost of range, while the gauntlets let you unleash your fisticuffs on underworld scum, though leave you with limited ranged attacks. Each weapon has specific Boons and weapon upgrades you can find as well, some of which can radically alter how a weapon works. The rail cannon, for example, fires a lot faster than the bow, but this is balanced by needing to manually reload…unless you get a weapon upgrade that gives you unlimited ammo with the only catch being that you can only do burst fire. Adding to this, players eventually unlock hidden Aspects of weapons, morphing them into different forms which can also influence their moveset. Change the shield to the Aspect of Zeus, and when you throw your shield Captain America style, it stays out and continually spins, dealing tons of damage over time and effectively forcing enemies to get sliced to bits if they want to get near you. I didn’t expect this game to have half this many weapons or to have them balanced so well. Really, just like anything else, weapons are another tool you can poke and prod and experiment with until you get a truly killer collection of Boons and upgrades that let you just demolish anything in your way. It’s very satisfying when you finally clear a run with a great build…though depending on the RNG, you WILL get some crummy builds, but that’s the nature of the rogue-like!

It’s likely that a bad build (or really, just getting hit with a new boss or enemy you aren’t prepared for) will lead to a death, but as already established, death isn’t really that much of an inconvenience in the underworld. Zagreus just spawns back at home and is free to immediately try to escape again, but this brief reprieve lets you chat up whoever happens to be around, give them gifts, advance some side-quests, pet your dog Cerberus and practice with weapons and such before you’re ready to go at it again. It’s after a run that you also get to spend a lot of the spoils of your escape attempts. While you lose Boons and weapon upgrades and the like upon death, there’s a LOT of various items you keep with you that have plenty of uses. Darkness shards are used for permanent skills that can be applied to Zagreus, like Death’s Defiance, which grants Zagreus another life upon dying, which can eventually be upgraded to give him THREE extra lives, just as an example. Precious gems can be used to fund a variety of cosmetic changes to the House of Hades. Just because Zagreus doesn’t want to live there anymore, doesn’t mean he can’t at least make it look good! Nectar can be gifted to other characters to improve your relationships with them, with bottles of Ambrosia being required later on, while special keys can be used to unlock weapons, more upgrades for your Darkness shards, or just used as a secondary currency for trade. There’s really a LOT of different items to mess around with, though admittedly if you’re the type to want to max out EVERYTHING you’ll be in it for the long haul, as there is not only a LOT of stuff to upgrade and purchase, but the random nature of things means rewards are never a guarantee. Though it’s worth noting the game’s totally beatable without going nuts with completion. Which I guess leads me to the biggest compliment I can give this game: even after “beating” it, I still can’t stop playing, and there’s plenty of reason to keep going.

REPLAYS AND REWARDS

So, full disclosure, I’ve gotten Zagreus to the surface. Several times, actually. But I haven’t quite “beaten” the game yet. In fact, at the risk of sounding pretentious, it is as if the true game begins after you’ve beaten it once. Without getting into specifics, let’s just say the game gives you a very good in-story reason to keep playing, and you won’t reach credits without several completed runs under your belt. And even then, there’s still stuff to do. I’m almost 30 hours into Hades and I’ve barely scratched the surface honestly. Every major character has their own sidequest you can undergo, but it can be slow goings when it comes to advancing them. Trying out all the weapons and boons and different combinations will easily take dozens of hours to fully experience, though the game has a handy in-game list of what you’ve done and haven’t done, as well as in-game achievements with tangible rewards that will spur you on. I was admittedly surprised at how dense of a game Hades can be. A successful run will likely take you somewhere between a half-hour to an hour, which is pretty devious. Just long enough to stay engaging throughout, and short enough that I can keep convincing myself that I have time for “one more run” and then suddenly several hours have gone by. Strangest thing.

Something that’s become a bit of a staple of Supergiant’s work is customizable difficulty, various modifiers you can flip on to make the game harder if you so desire, which in Hades takes the form of the Pact of Punishment. After a successful run, you can turn on a given pact to spice things up for subsequent runs. Maybe enemies do a bit more damage, or you give yourself a super strict time limit to clear a run. You can give enemies armor that makes them sturdier, or jack up the in-game shop’s prices. You can even be forced to give up Boons in order to advance past certain doors! Probably the most impressive Pact is Extreme Measures, which ends up greatly affecting the boss fights in the game…trust me when I say you won’t be ready for them the first time you flip that on. Activating a given pact increases a “heat gauge” that, should it reach a given level, will end up granting you various special items to help with fully upgrading and unlocking stuff. Of course, with each successful run completed with a given Pact activated, you’ll have to raise the heat more and more in order to keep getting these upgrade materials so be prepared. You can also still gain these materials (albeit at a much slower rate) playing through the game normally though, and there’s really no penalty for choosing NOT to activate a given pact. On the flip side of things, there’s also a God Mode you can toggle on that makes Zagreus a little stronger with each death, which can help those that want to see more of the story but are struggling with the game. Have your God Cake and eat it too!

All and all, this game just delivers on every level and I’ve been devouring it since release whenever I have a spare minute. You can see that Supergiant is taking all the lessons they learned from each previous game and combined it to make what is easily their best game yet. I don’t throw around words like “masterpiece” lightly, but Hades is just such a slam dunk that I’m sorely tempted to call it just that. I mean, if you hate rogue-likes, I’m not sure if Hades will really push you over the edge admittedly? You get way more rewards retained after death than just about any other rogue-like I’ve played, but if you’re the type that hates having to constantly adapt and not being able to memorize what’s coming, I can see this not working for you. But for me at least, I’ve had an absolute blast with the game and the only issue I really have with it is a small nitpick at best. When it comes to getting to know various characters, you can talk to them and give them Nectar or Ambrosia as a gift right? But what happens if they don’t show up on a given run? Or what if they DO show up, but they’re locked into a conversation with someone else? That means you can’t really advance anything with them until a given dice roll pities you. MEGAERA I THINK YOU’RE COOL, PLEASE JUST TALK TO M—oh sorry, don’t know where that came from… So yeah, that’s the nittiest of picks.

I adore this game’s cast, the voice work and music is excellent to the ear, the combat is engaging, the gameplay loop is addicting…need I say more? I mean, I’ve said almost 3000 words, but to really sum it up…I highly recommend Hades and I hope you don’t pass it up if you’re even remotely interested. You can find it on Steam, the Epic store and Switch as of right now, and I don’t think you could go wrong with any version.

Blood and darkness await you.

-B

[andagii-writes]

Oracle Calling

Hydrate me with a Ko-Fi!

Summary

(inspired by Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series, as well as Supergiant Games’s Hades)

Miss Levinia is the master of The Oracle Winery, a quaint yet historic operation nestled in Napa Valley for the last couple centuries. Her day staff tends to the mortal patrons, but at night, the tasting room transitions into a haven for displaced demigods, Levinia their overseer and protector, "Switzerland," by some accounts. What begins as an uncharacteristically quiet evening quickly evolves into a night of revelation, when a specter from her past crosses her threshold. (7,501 words)

Cross-posted on AO3 and WordPress.com

Glossed lips pursed in a frown, and with deliberate severity in her gaze, tall, dark Miss Levinia stood, arms crossed, behind the bar of her winery’s tasting room. Only a faint hum pervaded The Oracle Winery, as though the evening had forgotten its role in Levinia’s routine, as well as an earlier camaraderie.

But rather than making herself maudlin by recalling those regulars—twin brats of Hades and their snuffling, oversized Cerberus pups—Levinia turned her attention to administrative catch-up. With no one barging in for asylum or medical attention for the half-divine, or even for a drink, she at least had the perfect amount of peace to attend to the tasting room’s inventory. Clipboard in hand, she wove between the wicker lounge chairs and glass-top tables, pen scratching notes on a log sheet. Wheat crackers and cheeses for the main bar. More bottles of riesling and moscato for the refrigerator at the secondary dessert bar. Prepare the menus for the upcoming seasons. Oh, and inventory the grocery bags the twins had left at the end of the main bar.

The twins had, for the first time, asked about the otherworldly fare they brought for her in those bags. What exactly did she brew with the stuff?

“You’d have to drink them to know,” Levinia had responded. “But you might find yourselves on an express ferry back to your lord father if you did.”

They asked no more and finished their drinks on their way out.

Without paying, yet again.

Shoulders heaving in a deep sigh, Levinia set aside her clipboard and unrolled the long receipt detailing the twins’ tab, readying herself for the weekly recalculations. Pen rocking between two fingers, she punched numbers on her phone’s calculator while her mind added more to the to-do list. Check the stock on the venom and hallucinogenic brews. Re-apply poison to the knives hidden under the bar top. Regular protective maintenance, though she avoided altercations whenever possible. After all, unlike most of Levinia’s patrons, The Oracle afforded her a boring life of stability and routine. The day staff, a rotating roster of demigods, maintained the vineyards, the cellars, and the tasting room, while Levinia oversaw the operation at night, when she donned her waistcoat and customer service smile, and presided over what the brats called their personal Switzerland.

Though she appreciated the mystique and respect, even ancient Miss Levinia saw distress in the face of constant monotony. She enjoyed her stability, yet the quiet made her reminisce, made her memory clear away the fog over her childhood, made her consider the stars outside as she once considered the stars above the ocean spray of her old home.

Home? She scoffed at herself. The Oracle was home. She’d made this place her home. Even halfway across the world in this foreign wine country, history ensconced her, in a petrified forest further up north, neat rows of grapevines at her flanks, and splendid wineries for miles in either direction, each lot boasting more history and grandeur than the last. Among the pueblo-style bungalows, stone castles, and even a mountaintop vineyard that required an airborne cable car for access, The Oracle Winery stood proud yet modest, little more than a glorified cottage.

Levinia, sighing, rolled her shoulders. With the tasting room’s mood lights dimmed to gentle amber flares, The Oracle needed a distraction as well, lest it fell into a fitful doze with her. Music, she thought, would lift the spirits of the place. She added that note—'hire nightly entertainment’—to her list, since she, unfortunately, never inherited her father’s knack for revelry.

As she started her calculations again, a breeze swept outside, disturbing the ivy leaves and grapevines to a gentle rustle. A visitor had arrived.

Levinia re-rolled the twins’ tab and nestled it against her register. Whatever came through her doors deserved her cordial welcome as thanks for the break in the evening. Tugging her waistcoat straight, she drew back and fastened the curlicue waves of her hair with golden ivy pins: mementos, Mother once claimed, of Father.

The doors opened. Levinia curled her lip in her customary slight smile. She started, “Welcome,” then choked in surprise. As she stared wide-eyed at the silhouette on her doorstep, her smile hardened into wariness.

She knew that broad shadow. She remembered that height.

‘No,’ she told herself, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know. That’s not—My mind’s just playing tricks.’ Just a specter from her memories. Reminiscing had never been good for her. She sucked in a sharp breath and loosened her clenched hands. What an embarrassing mistake to make of a likely regular patron. Or an enemy. ‘Come on,’ Levinia scolded herself. ‘You’re working now.’

Even while eyeing her customer, Levinia kept her tone civil. “Welcome to The Oracle Winery,” she said again, then gestured to the bar stools. “’Tis the tasting room. Have a seat; tell me what you need.”

The man stooped to clear the threshold and said nothing as he closed the door behind him. Levinia curled her lip in slight offense, but swallowed her snap. After all, most of The Oracle’s first-time patrons kept to themselves, usually out of sharp distrust. The same probably held for this man. Curled hair sprung in stray sprigs from under his hood, some shade of dark color muddied by the amber lights. His shoulders filled out the corners of his thick jacket, zipped all the way up. Despite the suffocating choice, a strange gracefulness helped the man to navigate his long legs as he turned about, apparently investigating every possible corner of The Oracle.

Levinia lowered her hand to an alcove under her counter, brushing her fingers along the handles of her hidden knives. Why survey the space so? Looking for surveillance or a way out?  Yet, strangely, no sign of intimidation came off his height or hooded visage. No anticipation prickled in his silence. Rather, Levinia thought as she drew her hand back, a welcoming gentleness surrounded him.

Which made Levinia offer her hand instead. “Shall I take your coat?”

He shook his head, electing instead to partially unzip his jacket. After a hesitant moment, hands firmly balled in his pockets, he finally spoke. “You’re not asking who I am?”

He used a gruff tone to mask his voice, but its familiarity echoed in Levinia’s ears. She choked down the knot tangling in her chest and replied, “You can tell me if you want, but I won’t ask or tell. That goes for anyone visiting at this time.”

“Say I tell you, and you realize you’d rather throw me out. Would you do so?”

Levinia grimaced at the poorly-veiled sentiment. “I can’t break my own rules, now can I? Just don’t make any trouble for me.” She held her breath, as the man slid into one of the barstools before her. “So, what can I get you tonight?”

“Just a glass,” he sighed, shoulders relaxing. “A black, if you please.”

She considered the hooded man, his head low. “A ‘black’ wine at The Oracle,” she murmured, hands on her hips, “is considered divine fare. So don’t disrespect me. Take your hood off.”

The man flinched and threw a glance over his shoulder, the motion freeing another curling lock of dark hair from his hood. “You speak so fearlessly,” he said, a chuckle lacing his voice. “Like a goddess of protection. Or a mother. Have you become one since I last saw you?”

He had dropped his gruff tone as well, opting for a natural mellow accent, one Levinia occasionally heard in her faded recollections of Father’s bedtime stories. He used to talk about foreign lands, waters, and adventures.

“I only ask,” the man hurriedly added, likely in response to Levinia’s lips pursing into a thin line, “since there was no one back home to tell me what had happened to you.”

“And just how long ago did you visit those ruins?” While she had stopped herself from spitting, a dangerous edge sharpened her voice. “And no, I’m neither goddess or mother, heaven forbid me. All I do is make and maintain the rules of my house, so again, no trouble past those doors.”

He folded his hands over the countertop, still refusing to meet Levinia’s eye. “I remember that. Your mother had a similar rule.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Stomach roiling, Levinia covered her face and counted each long second of her breath. “Just take your damn hood off, Father.”

“I—I believe you have me mistaken.”

“Let’s not play this game. You might as well be standing before me in full regalia. Where’s your wand? Your chariot? Your attendants? What happened to excelling at disguise?”

“To protect the mortal eye, yes. But you, your mother…” He finally, sheepishly, shed his hood. The rest of his curled hair, some tied back in a half-pony, cascaded over his shoulders. “Your mother had a sharp, fearless eye. You’ve clearly inherited that.”

Levinia’s stomach, which had coiled backwards, now pitched forward, as she let the specter’s words and visage sink in. She remembered that voice. That face. She hated that she’d seen through him so quickly.

Mother called him Daeon. And he hadn’t changed, even after hundreds upon thousands of years. Levinia’s lord father Dionysus, despite his languid, unshaven features, still held traces of the young father who once cradled Levinia among the vineyards. No disguise could hide the gravitas of his divinity.

Remembrance stung in Levinia’s eyes, as she ground her palm into one. She’d prepared for everything—riots, medical emergencies, death threats, ichor hunters—but not her own father’s return. Why did this have to be her distraction for the evening?

Daeon went on, his voice wavering. “Levinia,” he said, “you’ve grown so much.”

“Time does that to a little girl,” she snapped, squaring her shoulders. “You missed Mother’s deathbed.”

“I swear to you,” he said, “Hades was to notify me as soon as she arrived at Elysium, but, nothing. I even made the journey below; I was ready to bring her back.

“But she wasn’t there. You sent her off correctly, didn’t you? An obol under the tongue?”

“Even if I hadn’t, the old attendants would have made sure of it,” Levinia spat. She laid her palms flat against the countertop and counted the seconds of her breath. In, slowly. Then out. “So let’s face the truth, shall we? You were too afraid to watch her go.”

“Not true. I knew where she was headed.”

“Then why? How hard could it have been? We lived on Olympus’s doorstep! Just a few steps outside, Father, and you could have seen Mother off yourself!”

Mother, who, after Father had disappeared that distant morning, waited upon the balcony every night and stared across the sea. She wistfully called it “The Promised Spot.” Yet that soft longing eventually hardened into bitter anger, solid until her final breaths when she begged Levinia to look after the family’s treasures.

The memories prickled into fury. Levinia stepped back from the bar top. Heaved another deep breath. Her staff called her tough, but, she reminded herself, the master of The Oracle Winery operated with far more finesse and impersonality regardless of the customer she faced. She straightened her back and cleared her throat. “Pardon me,” she said. “I’ll get you your drink.”

Taking a glass from the rack, Levinia knelt below as she guessed her father’s expression. Despairing, hopefully. Or guilty. Regretfully reminiscing. Self-pity, she told herself, she’d slap.

Above her, Daeon released a burdened sigh. “I had a theory,” he said, “that perhaps her soul had wandered elsewhere. You sent her off properly, yet she never arrived at Elysium. Never even saw Hades or Persephone to receive her decree.”

“Can’t say I care about your theories,” said Levinia, flipping a switch under her bar top. Soft amber light illuminated a cabinet below the register, as she produced a key from her pocket. “Take them to Athena or, I don’t know, Aristotle, since you’re so willing to head back down there. I’m sure Hades stashed him or some other philosopher in Elysium.”

“I’ll…consider it.” His tone deflated, yet he went on. “Your mother. Was—how angry was she?”

Levinia turned the lock on the cabinet. “She once promised to eviscerate you herself, if you came back while she was alive.” She simpered at her father’s groan and opened the glass door. Inside, mounted on its side, sat a plain, sealed amphora, a spigot retrofitted at its base. “But she never doubted your divinity.” Unpinning one of her ivy pins, Levinia felt about the patterned crest above the spigot. She turned the pin and fitted it into the crest, at the same time sliding the wine glass into place. “She never abandoned the craft you helped her master.”

“Which I see she also passed on to you.”

Holding the glass at a tilt, Levinia released the spigot. Dark red wine slipped in with hardly a bubble. “I like to think I did well by her.” She gingerly pulled the lever back, removed her hair pin from the crest, and stood, pocketing the pin as she nudged the cabinet shut. Pinky cushioned under the stem, she set the filled glass before her father. “But if she kept any secrets from me, she left them in this brew here.”

Levinia crossed her arms, as her father’s features creased with bafflement. “But why would she keep anything from you?”

Despite his confused tone, however, a strange, sharp clarity glinted in his eyes. Without realizing, her father had already, dimly, divined an answer, but needed a few moments longer to solidify his conclusion. Levinia shrugged anyway. “Experiments. Signatures. Something like that, if I had to guess. All she said was this one’s not complete ‘’til it received the blessings of Lord Dionysus.’” She gestured to the glass. “But you’ve already guessed that, right, wine being your domain? So go on. You’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

“With all of my gratitude,” Daeon replied, and picked up the glass. He tilted the wine toward the light and watched The Oracle’s amber lights flare through the deep red. His guilty remembrance softened into a fond smile as he brought the glass to his lips. He closed his eyes. “She’s created a masterpiece. I can tell already.”

Levinia rolled her eyes.

After another long moment and final deep breath, he tipped the glass back for the smallest sip.

Wonder filled his features then, his eyes practically glowing, while Levinia smirked. An old giddiness stirred in her as Daeon took another sip, longer this time. Then another. And another.

“Take your time,” she chuckled, dimly recognizing her own honest simper. Old memories stirred within her, reminding Levinia of fond memories of mother-daughter winemaking—to remind Father to come home!—until Mother had faded into a lonesome morosity some long, horrible time ago. After that and over the years, Levinia’s own love had withered into a desiccated husk of sadness, leaving her with the professional motions of winemaking, but none of the zeal.

‘Until,’ she thought, ‘now.’

“She’s mulled it well,” Daeon sighed. “There’s a bite, yet it’s kind. Soft.” He held a melancholic smile in his features. “As though she’s speaking to me. But this isn’t like her usual brews—what is that I taste? Persephone’s pomegranates?”

“As if she’d let you have the fruits of the dead. You’re tasting cherries, from what later became the Ottomans.”

“And the grapes?” Desperation strained his voice. “Did she use a blend?”

Levinia snorted. “Of only the grapes you raised. She wouldn’t agree to anything else for the private collection.” As her father put down his glass and cradled his head, Levinia swallowed the rest of her rebuke. She couldn’t berate his sincerity any longer. “I looked after what I could after you left. Still do. I’ll never be as good as you, but I did my best.” She smirked, sardonic. “Even stopped myself from burning them down, especially that ugly one with all the ivy.”

“Because Lyridice taught you to regard that one as though it was me.”

Mother had begged not only for the protection of the wine amphoras, but also, with sharp emphasis, the old grapevines in the private garden terrace. “For your father,” sighed a resigned Mother. “He’ll return to you during your long, long life. I promise.”

And now, millennia later, that promise had finally delivered.

Levinia raised a brow. “How did you figure?”

“I could never reach you through them,” Daeon reluctantly answered, “but I could still hear you. Your prayers. I heard both of you, whenever you called upon me through that grapevine.”

Levinia’s head spun, sour rage prickling again at the back of her throat. By force of habit, she had continued her one-sided conversations with the ivy-choked grapevines, increasingly so after her mother had passed. Even though passing time left her home in ruins, Levinia protected those plants with her life, taking them from the terraced gardens above the Mediterranean and across the world from new home to new home. Currently, they stood still and peaceful, enshrined in Levinia’s private garden.

And she still talked to them when she tended the garden. Through that conversation, Levinia realized, her father had found her. “I knew I should have burned that damn bush,” she hissed, every word pinched with more venom than the last. “So you really did know when Mother passed. You knew as soon as I told you and you still chose to not come home?”

“Forgive me, Levinia.” Distress mounted in Daeon’s voice. “I beg you to forgive me, but I know—I’m not—!” He sighed. “I’m not foolish either. You can’t forgive me. I heard that as well. Loud and clear.”

Levinia, remembering her wailing curses before the grapevine, bit her lip. Had her straight honesty then already done the damage she wanted? She leaned against her countertop, replying in a tight voice, “So what are you really here for? Obviously not to ask after Mother.”

“Lyridice has always been my reason—both of you have always been my reason.” Head cradled in one hand, he swirled his wine with the other. Exhaustion shadowed his features as he mockingly snorted, “Zeus advised me against coming here, ‘til I questioned him on his own children, those he left behind on this earth. He granted me some of his understanding then.” He lifted his head and met Levinia’s eye again. “Lyridice prayed that I look after you, Levinia. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Your point?”

“I’m here to take you home with me. To Olympus.”

She stared, fighting to keep her expression of ennui while pure rage pounded harder and harder against her temple. Home? Olympus?

With Dionysus?

Her breath ran icy hot through her nose, as dumbfounded Levinia curled her fingers around the edge of the countertop. The wood groaned under her grip. Even Daeon pulled back. “So that’s it?” Her stomach lurched over and over. Her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, even her neck and throat, all burned. “This? After all these years? Do you take me for a damn child?”

“It’s for your safety—!”

“—My safety?! Where was this proposition when the pirates showed up? When they burned down our home looking for ‘divine ichor,’ answer me that!”

“I never heard—when was this?”

“Who cares when it was! They hung me—hung me, Father, do you hear me?!—draining me for my blood! Where were you then?!”

“I was looking for your mother!”

“You mean my dead mother?”

“She wasn’t—Levinia, listen to me—Lyridice’s not in the Underworld. She promised to wait for me at Elysium without drinking from Lethe, but I swear to you, she wasn’t there.”

She could have snatched up the glass on the table and smashed it into her father’s face. She could scream at the insolence, the disrespect, but she swallowed the rage scalding her throat. How had she not already vaporized or combusted? Pressing both hands to her temples, Levinia blew out a long, thin, tremulous breath. Then regarding her father with seething disappointment, she blew another breath and lowered her hands. Fists balled, she rounded the bar and stood before Dionysus.

Miss Levinia lifted one hand and pointed at the door. Her voice, icy and curt, sharpened further as she hissed through gritted teeth. “Get out.”

She snapped against his protest. “Mother was more right about you in her anger,” she pressed, “then she ever was in her love for you. You choose to smear her memory? Deflect your responsibility to her? Then I won’t listen to another second of this asinine talk, you hear me, especially in here! Get out!”

A shocked Daeon rose before her. “I never smeared or deflected—!”

“Yet you insist she’s not where she belongs?”

“Zeus forbade me from asking after Lyridice!”

“She was beneath you anyway, is that it? Leave her in peace!”

“I have been fighting, Levinia, fighting for leave this entire time—!”

“And it’s only now that Zeus is granting you this oh-so-necessary permission to see me? To look for Mother? Spit out that wine and cry me a river! Mother must have drowned herself in Lethe, just to avoid seeing you again!”

“By the Styx, child, relinquish your stubbornness for just one moment!”

“Take your patronizing and shove it, Father, because that stubbornness was all I ever had! For years, for centuries, for so goddamn long, all I ever had was that stubbornness to live! To survive!” Every nerve, every breath, every bone in Levinia’s body rattled. Yet somehow, as she regarded her father’s perturbed expression, she scoffed. Why even bother anymore? Why care so much now? Suddenly exhausted, she turned away. “So leave me to it. What’s another lost child to you or the gods, anyway?”

She tottered back behind the bar, as Daeon, shaking his head, fell back into his seat. “You were never lost to me,” he said. “Never.”

“Thanks for the nice thought,” Levinia muttered, “but you’re lying. Get out of my store.”

He lingered, however, drumming his fingers against the bar top. “Divine ichor,” he reflected. “How could anyone have figured that out about you?”

“Live just twenty years past your dead mother without looking more than a teenager, and people start wondering. And don’t try your persuasion on me. I’m of your blood.”

“But your ichor’s mixed, a far cry from that of the gods.”

Levinia rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut as the dust cleared from her memories. Her mother had died, her father disappeared, and the people of that old vineyard had all passed on, leaving behind rumors of a ghost girl wandering the ruins of that once-hallowed estate. In the following lonely years, she ran pirates and treasure hunters for loops around the ruins and cackled at their bumbling expense, until they lashed her by her ankles and heated their cursed knives. “Details,” she mumbled. “Humans don’t care for them when they’re afraid of death.”

Pulling back from the counter, Levinia embraced herself, flinching as her body recalled the searing lacerations, one by one. Her breath shuddered in the icy hollow of her chest. ‘It’s all in the past,’ she told herself. ‘Just nightmares now.’

Just a nightmare. The distant memory of her mother’s voice sounded so close in Levinia’s head. But now you’re awake. And see? Mother is close to you. Father is always with you. The nightmares can’t reach you now.

“Levinia.”

She jerked back to reality—eyes wide, nose flaring, breath still shallow—to find her father offering his hand. “I thought,” Levinia snarled, albeit weakly, “I told you to leave.” Doubt and nostalgia pummeled her inside as she regarded the open palm before her. When was the last time she’d seen and held this hand?

“You spoke so many times before the vines—in joy, in anger, in sorrow—yet you never spoke of your suffering. Why?”

“Because…” Neither snark or sarcasm broke past the knot of honesty tangling in her throat. To tell, or not tell? After all, the last time she spoke to her father about her fears was the night before he disappeared. That was the last time they held hands.

What was that fear again? What had she told him? Levinia stared still at the offered hand, long fingers, knuckles somehow graceful, skin tanned by the Mediterranean sun. That same hand had given her a spoon of honey to soothe her, when she woke up screaming that night.

It was a nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

Wasn’t it?

A nightmare, of a thick black sea crashing forth from beyond an infinite horizon. Dark water coiled up her ankles and seized her wrists and throat and pitched her into the brine. The shadows flooded her nose and darkened her vision, whispered yet screamed, sang yet cried. She flailed and kicked for the surface, but the choking darkness dragged her lower and lower. Something—someone—grabbed her by the root of her soul, and she stilled, paralyzed. Ever deeper she sank, ever aware of the unending depth; she was returning somewhere, a place neither Mother or Father, a place from which her soul shrieked for escape.

She told Father this nightmare after crying against Mother.

Father left the very next morning.

“If you were listening at all after that,” Levinia finally responded, “I didn’t want to give you a reason to truly abandon me.” She laid her fingertips against her father’s. Like hers, and like she remembered, they were soft, maybe a little dry from tending the grapevines. And as she’d done so often as a child at the dinner table, she tapped her fingers against his, lightly, to escape Mother’s rebuke though she laughed eventually.

“It was never my intention—I didn’t mean to—no.” He curled their fingers together and gently gripped Levinia’s hand. “None of that matters.

“I’m sorry, Levinia.”

The apology hung thick, slowly permeating. Tears beaded in Levinia’s vision.

“I’m sorry, for leaving you so alone, so suddenly. I’m so sorry.”

She laid a hand over her eyes and turned her face askance. Biting her lip, she shook her head and swallowed in choking shudders. Miss Levinia, always stoic, never shed tears, not even for friends or close associates. Not even, she hoped, for her father.

Yet he, in silence, tightly held her hand.

“Levinia,” he then started. “As a child, you so desperately wanted to see your lord grandfather. I denied you that, but, do you remember how you tried to persuade me? The one thing you tried?”

Levinia, afraid of a habitual snap coming out instead of a question, sucked in another breath.

The one thing she tried?

The words came out before her foggy memory cleared. “I stole one of the wine amphoras,” she said. “A heavy thing of some special brew you made with Mother.” Lifting her hand, she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, her memory’s eye following the movements of that little girl. “I… I drank some of it. And I fell asleep.”

Daeon nodded. “Then you had your nightmare. But, hear me, Levinia. It wasn’t just a nightmare.” He took her hand in both of his. “Your divinity shone when you told us about it. That wine opened your vision—your power. You had a vision with far more clarity than even some of Apollo’s oracles.”

“Talk about a stretch of the imagination.” Levinia sniffled. Still turned aside, she drew back and crossed her arms. “I’ve had no prophetic visions since then.”

“Have you had a wine blessed by your father since then?”

Her father’s smugness instilled Levinia with further disbelief. “You’re not a god associated with prophecy.”

“So let’s call it an epiphany. That you call this winery ‘The Oracle’—fate has good taste.”

Levinia wrinkled her nose. Still, the man had a right to believe whatever he pleased, so long as he provided the information she wanted. She crossed her arms. “Epiphany it is. So what did I see?”

In the ensuing silence, Daeon’s features fell again. He folded his hands together. “You’ll believe me, then?”

“I won’t guarantee it.”

“That’s fair,” he snorted. “Your unquestioning faith is certainly far more than I can ask for.” He took a deep breath. Then, despite the uncertain furrow of his brow, he began. “We took some time to decode your epiphany. We still have some disagreement about the details, but overall, we think you saw the seas of Chaos.”

That shapeless, tumultuous beginning of all? Levinia raised her brow. “What about it?”

“Them,” Daeon corrected. “They’re an entity, as well as a place. Considering what happened to you in that dream, there’s reason to believe They’re rising.”

“You’re insinuating that Chaos—which just is, and once abdicated Their supremacy—has adopted purpose and direction?”

Daeon chuckled. “And there’s the disbelief. But you’ve noticed the shift in this world, haven’t you? Humanity is slowly sliding this realm back into Chaos, as though to meet Them halfway.”

“Humans have always been a chaotic species. It’s their fate.”

“So you believe the Moirai designed the arrival of their siblings? The children of Nyx?”

“You say it like they’ve never been around.”

“Certainly, they’ve always had their governance over humanity—in dreams, in sleep, in death—but have they always been here, among the mortals? They’re becoming more and more deliberate in their duties, and the humans resist those machinations. You know what defiance of destiny invites.”

Defiance of destiny is the rejection of the gods’ order, and thus, a ticket for Chaos to emerge. The ichor hunters of Levinia’s youth demonstrated as much in their desperate resistance against death, and her network had reported even more: retribution stirring within and between countries, mass, fatal siren calls of both needles and firearms, older generations passing ill will rather than wisdom to the young. “So it was all one cohesive pattern,” Levinia muttered. “They’re goading humans to reject order.”

“Thus allowing the primordial gods even greater reign across the mortal realm. Their efforts will cloud humanity with the mists of Erebus, and so ready this world for Nyx’s sovereignty.” Daeon’s voice fell. “Once Nyx veils all in primordial night and refuses return to Tartarus, Chaos will surge forth to reclaim what They bore.”

“Unbelievable,” Levinia snorted, shaking her spinning head. “You inferred all of this from a drunken nightmare I had as a child, and you’re only now coming with a full analysis of it?”

“We had to be sure we correctly understood this particular thread of fate. Our preparations needed to be perfect.”

“And leaving lovers and demigod children behind in the meantime?”

Here, Daeon met Levinia’s eye. Guilt, and at the same time, conviction, reflected in his expression. “That was never my intention. We all had our parts to play in this matter, what with closing the gates of Olympus…”

Levinia blinked, eyes bugging out. “Come again?” she scoffed. “Zeus would have you and his family abandon this realm?”

“I’m sure,” Daeon interjected, “I’m certain, he made the decision with a heavy heart—humans have always fascinated him! Yet I hear the scale of this conflict won’t compare to the war against the Titans, or so Poseidon assures.”

Levinia pressed her fingers against her temples, her scrambled disbelief pounding a headache. Slowly, she parsed her thoughts.

One, her father sat before her at her bar. He wanted to take her home, to his home of Olympus.

Two, the children of Nyx, even Nyx herself, worked to set the humans against themselves. To invite Chaos back. And Levinia had had a dream prophesying this some long, ancient time ago.

And, according to Levinia’s up-til-then absent father, her assuredly dead mother had somehow missed the road signs and ferry to the Underworld. She never took her rightful place among the dead.

“Whew…” She lowered her hands and laid them flat on the polished bar top. Refocus, she told herself. What’s here? What’s now?

Herself, first of all. Her father and his unannounced visit. The wine between them, Mother’s “Prayer”—Ah, Levinia, I am so sorry. I’m nobody more than a winemaker’s daughter and yet I find myself wishing—though Levinia would not tell Dionysus this name.

And then The Oracle. She’d been here so long, along with others too. Others that mattered. “What about the other kids like me? You’ve all abandoned us for so long—now you have a plan?”

“We’re in disagreement there as well.” Daeon met Levinia’s sharp, accusatory glare and hurriedly added, “I will grant you protection, of course, but some would rather maintain Olympus as hallowed ground, and prepare those children for war instead. A crusade, they say, to restore order.”

Did you hear, Levinia? Your father finally has his throne among the Olympians! Apparently, bringing his mother back from Hades was the final test of his divinity. And now she’s ascended as a deity on Olympus too!

I… I wonder, if that honor could ever be extended to me?

Soft orange flares glowed in the crystal of Levinia’s neatly lined glasses. She asked, quietly, “Would you have protected Mother, were she still alive?”

“That’s why I made my way to the Underworld again.” Daeon murmured, as if their whispers could somehow reach the shade in question. “Hades was cross with me, but I had every intention of bringing Lyridice back. Only, she wasn’t in Elysium.”

Semele was beautiful—is beautiful. You see, beauty makes the difference between two mortal women. Look at me. I’ve always been cross. I’ve never been beautiful. I’ve this ugly red mark on my face that I wrapped and hid every day, yet your lord father unveiled me. Looked upon me. Embraced me and called me beautiful. I told him he’ll someday wake up from those delusions.

But now, without him? I miss him, Levinia. I miss him more every day.

I tell myself he’ll come home. Do you think the gods will forgive my vanity?

“She would have waited. You’re right about that, at least.” She waved aside Daeon’s touched, tearful look. “At least I’m still here. You’d have me head for Olympus as a refugee, then?”

Noting her father’s affirming nod, Levinia regarded the quiet winery. For sanctuary within Olympus, she’d have to give this place up. Whether this “rising” of Chaos happened tonight or within the next five hundred years, Olympus would supposedly protect her. Her father was luckily one of the kinder Olympians who reveled in celebration more than sacrifice.

But the more pragmatic gods meant to outfit their demigod children for war. With war came carnage, meaning those abandoned kids would inevitably be the first casualties. The thought soured in the back of Levinia’s throat. “Can’t you extend your protection to the rest of our kind?”

Daeon folded his shaking hands together. “It’s my word against those of older siblings and my father. Some have no kindness or wisdom, but I will continue asking them to reconsider. Demigods or not, our children shouldn’t have to suffer their parents’ whims.”

Levinia snorted. “You could say that twice and a few times more.”

“Please, Levinia.”

“I don’t think so, Father. I’m not as bitter now, but I still have a right to my anger. Rage is also part of your domain, after all.”

She smirked at her father’s exasperation, yet Levinia’s thoughts wandered again. Less fortunate kids had no divine or living parent to speak of or with. Those lost children floated about and survived, until rumor clued them into a haven nestled in the heart of some far-flung wine country. Half-disbelieving, they stumbled on, following the word of equally mistrustful kids until they fell upon the doorstep of The Oracle. Levinia gave them food, drink, a bed, a bath, no questions, and only one rule: no trouble. After a few silent days, they usually asked about their almighty parents, because surely Miss Levinia and her network would have answers, but she always gave her sobering response of, “No one knows.”

Now she knew—Chaos is coming and the gates of Olympus are closing—but then what? Absent parents never had sudden changes of heart. Even Dionysus needed a reason. So how would an answer change any of the demigods’ circumstances? If Levinia left The Oracle, where would those kids go next?

‘They’re resourceful,’ she told herself. ‘They know how to get by.’ Yet a sense of proud duty answered, that without Miss Levinia, who knew the ways of the divine children because she was one too, the kids had nowhere else to go. After all, she maintained the store’s front not only for her devotion to winemaking.

She tapped the bar top. “You’ll be returning to Olympus,” Levinia finally answered, “without me.”

“Without—wait—without?”

Levinia smiled despite the pang against her chest. “Ah, Father. Think of it like this: if I could get you to choose me over your other children, would you stay with me here among the mortals?” She noted Daeon’s alarmed, ponderous expression and waved her remark aside. “You see? Much as I would hate and appreciate my lord father’s company, either I would have to abandon this place, or you would have to stay with me in this possible war-zone.” Levinia took a dry cloth from a cabinet, wet and wrung it, and began wiping down her bar top. “I don’t think we can compromise either of our positions.”

Understanding visibly dawned in Daeon’s expression. He said nothing for a long while, only picking up his empty glass to let Levinia wipe. Then, “Tell me, Levinia,” he started, “about this place. You never spoke much about it through the grapevine.”

“Professional necessity,” Levinia replied. “I said nothing about this operation in case someone up there didn’t like the idea of a bunch of demigod children gathering in one place.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I realized humans believe immortality’s worth bleeding a kid dry.” She snickered at Daeon’s flinch. “I’ve had a lot of help, since I’m moving shop all around. This place is only a couple centuries old.”

“Why reveal this place to mortals as a winery?”

Levinia shrugged. “Tending to and establishing this network takes money, you know. I make good wine, and some of the kids want jobs. So I help them by keeping this place in operation throughout the day.

“Kids are smart, see. They rotate their own roster and keep me a secret. The humans believe the original owner’s long dead.”

Daeon, tracing the rim of his glass, finally smiled. “A compelling ruse. You truly do make a fantastic protection goddess.”

“Don’t joke like that,” said Levinia. “It’s just volunteer work. I only started this because I needed a place like this as a child. Figured there were others too.” She eyed her father’s glass, its bottom caked with the last drying drops of Lyridice’s “Prayer.” Then squaring her shoulders and straightening her waistcoat, Levinia folded her hands behind her back. “Well then. You have your answer, and assuming you’re telling the truth, I shouldn’t keep you. Thank you, Father, for finding me.”

To which Daeon regarded with a somber shake of his head, before he broke into a chuckle. “I see you’ve inherited that terrible habit of hers,” he said.

“Habit?”

“That dismissive tone. Lyridice was always cross, even as a young woman. I believed I could persuade her to soften her edges, but I never succeeded.” He snickered, low and fond. “I couldn’t. She was bright. Hardworking. Sensible and fearless. She eventually revealed her vulnerability to me, but I always found her snap quite charming.”

“And I’m her daughter,” Levinia snorted. “Notice, that while you confused me and pissed me off, you never persuaded me.”

“I stopped you from throwing me out.”

“Save your breath. That wasn’t your persuasion.”

“So you say, but I believe I can yet convince you to come with me.”

Levinia narrowed her eyes. “If you’re telling the truth, your father’s gates will close before you convince me to do anything, much less rely on your protection.”

“Is that a challenge? I do intend on returning to enjoy Lyridice’s masterpiece a few times more.”

“Then take the entire jug. I’m sure she’d like that.”

“Do you think it’ll lead us to her?” Eager hope made him breathless, as he leaned forward on the bar top. “She asked you to preserve this wine for a reason, something more than simply my blessing.”

Levinia raised a brow. “You’re overthinking it. She left no records or recipes, and told me nothing. So I doubt you’ll glean anything from this brew, let alone where she could be other than avoiding you in Elysium.”

“She was never a woman to back out of her promises.” Hands folded, Daeon stared, pensive, at the glass before him. “Zeus will leave the gates open to the very last minute. I’ll find Lyridice by then.”

Levinia, still wordlessly impressed by her father’s faith, shook her head.

Then a wind stirred outside, heralding the arrival of another visitor. Two, in fact, by the sounds of familiar motorcycle purrs and deep, soul-curdling barking. Levinia eyed the glass panes of her doors and watched as the twins’ silhouettes approached The Oracle. Sensing drawn blades should they recognize an Olympian at their favorite haunt, Levinia cleared her throat. “Consider yourself taken with a grain of salt,” she said, “but I’ll see what I can find on my end.”

The statement had her father beaming. “A grain is better than none,” he said. “Know that I’m proud of you, Levinia.”

She averted her eyes from Daeon’s smile as the flare of her own ears choked her smartest responses and left her grumbling, “Now I do.” While she snorted against the embarrassed tangle in her chest, her gaze darted across the tasting room. Setting her eyes back on her father then, she knew, spelled trouble for the still-restrained tears prickling across her face. “And, uh, if you could kindly see yourself out soon? You’ll—you’ll send the brats running for the hills.”

Daeon turned toward the doors, where the twins peered through the glass. “Well, that wouldn’t do,” he said, softening his voice. The doors swung open, revealing the twins already in their ready stances, hands clenched over the handles of their weapons. “I’ve truly overstayed my welcome, then?”

The brother’s black steel sword and the sister’s ebonywood flute shone orange under The Oracle’s amber lights. Lips pursed, Levinia eyed her returning customers and shook her head. “Truly,” she replied, flinching at her own cold civility. “Go on. Get out.”

Yet Daeon kept his steady grin. He rose from his seat and buried his hands in his pockets. “I hope you’ll allow me to come back, then.”

Heart leaping up her chest, and with little trace of her old bitterness, Miss Levinia returned Lord Dionysus’s radiant grin, albeit with a huff. “’Tis a promise,” she said, “and I’m personally holding you to that this time. Don’t come ‘til the store’s empty, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, my dear. Loud and clear.”

He lifted his hand in farewell, and bowing his head, passed the tensed twins on his way to the door. The door closed behind him, and like fading smoke, Father disappeared into the night. Levinia released her held breath in a deep exhale.

The twins, sheathing their weapons, slid into their stools. They leaned over the bar top, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed. Who was that man in that hideous purple hood? Did he seriously have leopard print down the sleeves and sides? That hoodie alone’s enough for an assassination request, Miss Levinia, and—friendly reminder—the twins had cleared their schedule for the evening. She knew, right, that if she ever were in trouble, she could ask them, and they’d do whatever necessary to return their favors. And their tab.

Levinia nodded, blankly rinsing her father’s glass. A part of her cursed the twins for their prickly mistrust. Another part applauded herself for avoiding an altercation between god and demigod. As she drew her sleeve across her wet eyes, she dimly registered another part of herself fading—the rage that once flared in the back of her throat, up into her head, and all through her body for centuries untold. And as she dried her father’s glass and set it next to the amphora in her sealed cabinet, a newly assured part steeled her new gamble: Mother’s prayer would again bring Father back home.

Now her business began. “You two—you’re alright,” Miss Levinia remarked, beckoning her customers to calm down. She wore her customary smile again, improved, she realized, from the new stretch of her lips and the crease of her eyes and cheeks. “I just got hold of new information for you and the other brats. New job too, personal this time.”

She set two glasses before the twins and retrieved a new bottle from the wall behind her. “I need you to find a missing shade in the Underworld. And relax; this round’s on me.

“We’re celebrating tonight.”

[forlornmelody]

A Quick and Dirty Surprise

Rating: Explicit (absolutely no plot whatsoever)

Ship: Femshep x Kaidan Alenko

AO3 Link: Here

Summary:   Kaidan has a special surprise planned for his girlfriend, Commander Shepard. But it's really hard to surprise someone when work gets in the way, so he gets creative.

Note: Been a while since I wrote fshenko, but I heard @spectrekaidanalenko was hosting the last Shenko Smut Thursday this week, so I had to get some words in. Enjoy!

“Coming in to pick you up.”

The smell of Atlas barbeque still singed in Shepard’s ears as she checked her armor for any damage. She had a burn mark from when a missile exploded just a little too close to her shields, but other than that. “Copy.”

“How long do you think it’ll take him?” Kaidan eyed the building behind them. Why he’d still be interested in the bases’s broken defenses, she had no idea.

Shepard shrugged, cleaning her gun and slinging it back into her holster. “He shouldn’t be too far out of range. He probably used the building for cover.” She itched to get her armor off. Maybe put on some sweats and appropriate James's workout station.

“Shit.” James said from behind them.

“Cerberus?” Shepard asked without thinking.

“Huh? No. Storm’s coming in.” James pointed behind them. “Fast.”

So much for getting her armor off. Shepard pressed on her comm. “Cortez? Head back to the Normandy. We’ll catch up when the storm passes.”

“You sure, Shepard?” Kaidan looked like she just stole his dessert.

“Can’t be helped. Everyone inside!” Hopefully they hadn’t shot out all the windows already.

Between the three of them, they managed to shut the doors. “Vega--get the heat back on.”

“Sure thing, Lola.”

Shepard settled on a stool, swinging it back and forth. Her veins still rattled with battle adrenaline--and right now it had nowhere to go. Kaidan looked equally tense, though currently he was using an undamaged terminal to look at the weather. He swore under his breath. “Guess we could always do a push up contest.”

“Without me?” James called out from the control room. A second later the furnace kicked on, and they all sighed with relief.

“Ha.” Kaidan narrowed his eyes at the screen. “Actually. I need to debrief with the Commander. He pointed at the terminal. “Lieutenant?”

“Seriously?”

“Alenko’s right. Keep an eye on the radar--for the storm, and for any goons we might’ve missed.” Shepard followed Kaidan to a side room--armory by the look of things--wondering what this was all about. Field debriefs weren’t really Kaidan’s style. At least she wouldn’t be coming out empty-handed “Something on your mind, Kaidan?” She stuck the pistol upgrade in her utility belt.

Kaidan closed the door behind them and locked it. Okay. This definitely wasn’t his style. He stared out the window, peering out over the sill. James stood far below at the terminal--his attention still glued to the screen, though the young lieutenant still bounced on his feet. “This storm has really bad timing.”

Shepard slid beside him, daring to lean her head on his shoulder. “Could be worse. At least we’re not being shot at.”

“Good point. But the day’s almost over.” He pulled up his omni-tool to show her the time.

“You had something in mind?” They had been planning to get together after the mission for a... more personal debrief in her cabin. But that could always wait til after their sleep cycle, right?

“This isn’t the kind of day you want to spend in a shot-up base, you know?”

“Something special going on today?” She reached over, wrapping her fingers in his, squeezing gently. Unprofessional, yes. But ever since they reconciled after the Coup, Shepard wasn’t going to waste any moment not touching him.

“Shepard.” Kaidan looked at her in exasperation. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Her eyes widened as she stepped back to look at him. “Shit. It’s not our anniversary, is it?” How did they even mark such things, anyway? The day she came back? Their first hook up before Illos? Their first date on the Citadel was only a couple weeks ago--she thought. Time moved kind of funny in wartime.

“You have got to be kidding.” Kaidan guffawed, taking both her hands in his. “How are we supposed to celebrate if you don’t even remember?”

“You aren’t going to tell me?” Jane almost pleaded, and Kaidan shook his head, laughing harder. She let him pull her close, flush against his chest--their armor bouncing with a soft clang.

“Maybe I want to surprise you.” He ducked his face close to hers, letting his breath, and his biotics stir with hers. A shiver swept down her spine.

“Kaidan.” Shepard blushed. They didn’t usually get this informal with their armor on. “We’re still on the clock.”

Kaidan’s finger and thumb rested on the release button for her armor seals. “Door’s locked. And James is busy standing watch.” He brushed his lips against hers. “And that storm isn’t stopping anytime soon.”

“In here?” There wasn’t even a bed in here. Not that such conditions had ever stopped them before. The Spectre Office on the Citadel. The elevator in the Normandy. Her shower.

“You can top if you’re that worried about the floor.” Kaidan laughed, but he didn’t press the button until Shepard nodded. Her boyfriend always left a way out. Her chest plate fell forward, away from her neck brace, and she pried it off her head. Together they removed the rest of her armor and set it aside. Shepard moved to remove the top of her undersuit, but Kaidan stopped her hand. “Leave it.”

“Worried about the time?” Shepard twisted her wrist around his, grabbing his hand so she could remove his gloves.

“It’s sticking to you. How the hell are we going to get it back on if you take it off?”

“Point,” Shepard undoes the seals on his neck brace, pulling off his armor until he’s as partially naked as she is, “taken.” She pauses to look him over. Anyone looking in would think them quite silly--good thing no one could see them up here.

“Like what you see?” Kaidan smiles at her, running hand up and down her side. He really wasn’t kidding about how sweaty her undersuit had become.

“Yeah. But not what I smell.” 

“You stink too, you know.” He pulls her into a kiss as they tumble to the floor.

Usually, after a battle, sex is the last thing on Shepard’s mind. There’re reports to file, armor to clean, naps to be had. But Cerberus didn’t put up enough of a fight this time--counting too much on a single Atlas mech to take them down as a last resort. Clearly they underestimated this west-coast Terran trio. Shepard still feels like she could run five miles, and she directs all that energy, all that adrenaline into the man beside her.  Their kisses are rough on each other’s skin, leaving their lips bruised and their skin marked. Her fingers creep up his undershirt, scratching down his chest until he groans and holds grips her elbows. His teeth sink into her neck through her shirt, and she muffles her cry into his hair.

“Too much?” Kaidan gasps into her ear as her hands wind their way into his underpants.

“Never,” she sputters in reply, tugging on his ear lobe with her teeth.

Kaidan is less direct with his touch, opting instead to trace circles through the sweat-wicking fabric. Somehow it feels even more wonderful, feeling the soft satin of it rubbing against her clit. He teases and circles her with his fingers until she’s clinging to his shoulders, begging for him to take her right then and there. “Not yet.” He breathes into her skin, kissing down her neck to her chest, and between her legs.

“Kaidan,” she protests feebly, only to grabs the curls of his hair as he gives her one, nice, long lick from her bottom to her clit.

“Shh,” he whispers against her lower lips, “he might hear you.”

“Not. Fair,” she wheezes as she squeezes his scalp.

“I can gag you if you’d like.” He chuckles, pausing to look up at her, just as she’s near her peak.

His chuckle erupts into a full guffaw at the look on her face. “If I wear a gag, will you stop teasing me?”

“No promises.” Kaidan’s grin is sinful. Cheeky bastard. And she loves him even more for--wait. Is it love?

Shepard pushes the thought aside. She can deal with her feelings later. Right now, she just wants to feel him. All of him. Instead of ripping her sleeve, she bites her hand, and Kaidan swallows under her hungry gaze. He leans down, feeding her appetite with his own, tasting her wetness through her underclothes, edging the tip of his finger inside her. It’s when she’s nearly screaming that he edges her pants down.

Sweat drips down Kaidan’s face as he looks down at her. “Ready, Shepard?” His erection strains against his pants.

Eyeing the bite marks on her hand a moment, Shepard manages, “I was ready a century ago.” She maneuvers his bottoms past his straining erection. Kaidan’s snort is lost in a hiss as his length pops free. Spreading the precum across his tip, she crawls over him, and slides him inside.

Kaidan pulls her close, muffling his moans against her lips as she grinds up against him. He reaches down, playing with her clit with one hand, and holding her hips with the other. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” she breathes into his mouth, gasping as she finds a particularly good spot. Her teeth graze his neck as she hits it again, and again, and--

“That’s it.” Kaidan gasps. “Almost there.” His fingers dig into her skin. A guttural Asound escapes his throat.

Shepard bites Kaidan’s lip and he pulses inside her. Pulling out, he fingers her until she’s shuddering on his lap--lost in his mouth, the slick of his skin, and his breath heavy in her ears. “Mm.” She gives him a parting kiss, still tasting herself on his lips.

Kaidan smiles sheepishly as she reaches for her armor. “Happy birthday, Shepard.”

“Wait.” Her hand pauses on her breastplate, and she stares up at him. “How’d you know it was my birthday?”

“Personnel records. You should try reading them sometime.”

“Ass.” Kaidan laughs louder, loud enough for James to hear them.

“What the hell are you two doing up there? Taxidermy?”

[amandajoyce118]

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina Part 2 Easter Eggs And References

I finally finished watching this set of episodes last week, and finally got to type out all of Easter eggs and references this weekend. There will, of course, be spoilers for the episodes here, but I have a feeling anyone interested in Easter eggs has probably already watched the episodes by now.

Enjoy!

Chapter 12: The Epiphany

The Spinning Clothes Change

Well, this is straight out of the Melissa Joan Hart era of Sabrina Spellman, isn’t it?

Sister Shirley Jackson

Shirley is one of the members of the coven. Shirley Jackson, however, isn’t a fictional character. That name belongs to the woman who wrote The Haunting Of Hill House, now adapted into its own Netflix series. Brother Lovecraft is also mentioned, which is probably a nod to HP Lovecraft.

Dorian’s Grayroom

If you don’t understand that Dorian here is the title character from Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Grey, I’m going to guess you haven’t had any classic lit in your English classes yet. You will, don’t worry.

Salome

The entertainment at Dorian’s is actually a woman straight out of the Bible. She’s also the subject of an Oscar Wilde play, so someone’s a Wilde fan.

“They go low, we go high.”

Roz is a Michelle Obama fan. Another reason to like her.

“The half-witch must not ascend…”

This word choice seems purposeful considering Sabrina is from the same showrunner as Riverdale where we have a bunch of kids running around Riverdale trying to “ascend” with the Gargoyle King.

Chapter 13: The Passion Of Sabrina Spellman

Bye Bye Birdie

It’s funny that Sabrina starred in the Baxter High version of this play since the actress also dealt with it quite a bit when she was in Mad Men. Cute nod.

The Play’s Color Palette

Did anyone else get a Baz Luhrmann Romeo and Juliet vibe from this play? Or was it just me?

Archie Comics At Cerberus’

Both the regular Archie comics as well as Afterlife with Archie can be glimpsed on shelves in the store.

Theo’s Locker

Theo’s high school story feels very Carrie at times. His locker being filled with feminine products is one of those times. Fittingly, Riverdale did Carrie: The Musical in an episode as well. So, you know the showrunner is a big fan.

Chapter 14: Lupercalia

So Many Archie Comics

Sometimes, it seems like that’s all the comic book store in town has. But it’s not, as we will see in the next episode.

Adam

So, there is a Dr. Masters in Archie Comics. The character here, and the character in the comics, don’t share the same first name though, which is likely purposeful since another Dr. Masters appeared on Riverdale as well. While his last name is likely a nod to the comics, his first name is likely a nod to the mythology of Lilith. The story goes that Lilith was created before Eve, that she was actually Adam’s first wife, before leaving the garden, thinking for herself, and also being branded as the world’s first demon, Lucifer’s first wife, or the world’s first witch, depending on the interpretation of the story. It’s fitting that Lilith gets a chance with another Adam.

Chapter 15: Doctor Cerberus’ House Of Horrors

Mrs. McGarvey

She’s played by science fiction actress Veronica Cartwright. She was in such classics as Alien, The Birds, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and The Witches of Eastwick. She also appeared in TV classics like The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Wonder Woman And Aquaman

The long shots of the comic book store reveal images of Wonder Woman and Aquaman on the shelving, so, now we know they sell something other than Archie comics.

Arkham

The DC universe gets another shoutout when Harvey has his reading. The school he supposedly gets into is the Arkham Colony of the Arts, a nod to the asylum for Batman’s many villains.

Howard

Interestingly, also during Harvey’s reading, his roommate Howard is a familiar face for Riverdale fans. The same actor plays Dr. Curdle Jr. on Riverdale. Now, we don’t know if Curdle’s first name is Howard or not, but it would be a nice nod to the double appearance of Ben Button on the show last season and on Riverdale. I’m curious if Greendale is like and alternate reality for the Riverdale universe at this point.

Chapter 16: Blackwood

Ray Wise

He plays the Antipope here. Ray Wise loves to play devilish characters. He’s frequently a bad guy. In fact, he already played the devil for the show Reaper. Who else was on Reaper? Aunt Hilda herself, Lucy Davis.

Chapter 17: The Missionaries

Sabrina On Her Bike

The music that plays and Salem accompanying her definitely reminded me of the Wicked Witch of the West in the Wizard of Oz, no?

Jerethiel

If anybody was paying attention to “Jerry” before the reveal that these witch hunters were angels, they would have noticed the name on his nametag. That suffix is a dead giveaway for his angelic roots. Also, cute that these angels are inspired by the Mormon religion, though I’m sure the Mormons don’t appreciate being depicted as the bad guys.

“God will forgive your original sin…”

This line confuses me since “original sin” was supposed to be eating from the tree of knowledge. Essentially, free will is original sin. But it doesn’t actually seem like that’s what the witch hunters are references, but rather just the sinful behavior of the witches in general. It’s an odd phrasing, so I threw it in here.

Sabrina The Savior

Not only does Sabrina get the crown of thorns, but she also gets pierced in the side, and holds a crucifixion pose to get things done. The imagery is clear.

Chapter 18: The Miracles Of Sabrina Spellman

(Side note: I love that Harvey made the Dark Phoenix comparison here. Anyone who has ever seen anything related to X-Men would have likely had the same thought. Sabrina not appreciating that Harvey compares her to a comic book when their entire lives are out of a comic book is also really amusing.)

Methuselah

His name is a reference to the longest living man in the Bible. But he’s played by the incomparable William B. Davis AKA the Smoking Man from the X-Files.

Chapter 19: The Mandrake

Sweetwater River

The ritual Sabrina is supposed to partake in involves making a golem and drowning your double at Sweetwater River. Sweetwater is the river that separates Greendale from Riverdale. It’s also where Jason Blossom was lost and Cheryl Blossom almost died - a set of twins, or doubles as it were. Nice symmetry.

The Ghost

The sheet thrown over Lilith’s new Adam before he tries to kill Sabrina is an homage to one of Michael Myers’ kills in Halloween.

Mandrake-Sabrina’s Scream

Okay, my first thought here was that it was a nod to the idea of mandrake roots looking like babies and how they were used in the Harry Potter series. (The Mandrake scream being fatal once mature.) But it also works as a nod to the screeching in Invasions of the Body Snatchers. We’ll call it a double egg.

Chapter 20 The Mephisto Waltz

The Episode Title

It’s taken from Mephisto, or Mephistopheles, a high ranking demon in German folklore. It’s also the name of a demon in Marvel comics, but that’s probably not related. It’s also the name for the devil in Faust, which makes another person with a name for the devil (Nick Scratch) becoming the literal embodiment of the devil rather poetic here.

“Ashes, ashes, he falls down dead…”

I like that the sisters decide to kill Blackwood using a spell to the tune of “Ring Around The Roses,” which was actually a song about a plague. Were they trying to give him a plague? Fitting.

“Not today, Satan.”

Glad to see modern pop culture makes its way into Greendale outside of horror movies and comic books.

The Archies

Sabrina still has her thermos for the fictional Archie comics band in her room. I’m sure there are tons of Easter eggs in her room if we could actually see everything. Just like Harvey still having Archie artwork on his walls.

Masquerade

The song is from Phantom of the Opera, in case anyone watching the show doesn’t love musical theater as much as the rest of us.

That’s it! That’s all I’ve got, though I’m sure I’ve missed some since I’m not as well versed in horror and probably didn’t catch all of the movie references.

[pixelgrotto]

The horrific Resident Evil playthrough, interlude three

I just finished watching all of the Resident Evil movies I could get my hands on. When I told people I was doing this as the last part of my great year-long playthrough, they all let out groans and said something along the lines of, “Ugh, don’t you wanna end on a good note?” Undaunted by these words and fueled by my ability to tolerate crappy cinema, I moved forward, courageously making it through nine of these suckers...which, to be fair, ranged from surprisingly enjoyable to just as terrible as everyone warned me about. 

Before I begin, it’s important to note that we’re dealing with two separate film series here. There’s director Paul W.S. Anderson’s Resident Evil Hollywood films, which are the ones that most people know about. Then there are three Japanese-made CG movies that are canon and co-exist alongside the stories of the games. The Anderson movies are...mostly ass. The Japanese ones are okay. 

Let us start with the ass first. 

Resident Evil - The first RE film came out in 2002, which means that what little CG it has is laughably dated and it’s refreshingly small-scale when compared to its sequels. The movie’s a fan fiction remix of some themes from Resident Evil 1, except with none of the characters from the games present. Instead, we have Paul W.S. Anderson’s wife Milla Jovovich taking center stage as Alice, the former head of Umbrella security in a secret base called the Hive that goes to hell when some dude tries to steal viruses. The entirety of the action takes place in the Hive, and we get a surprisingly tiny number of monsters, with just your garden variety zombies, a few Cerberus and a single Licker showing up. Even though she does run up a wall and kick a Cerberus in the face, Alice is at her most realistic here (she turns into a dual wielding mutant with the ability to make the camera go into slow-motion whenever she wants in all the other films), there’s a nifty laser grid scene that all the sequels keep referencing when they want you to feel nostalgic, and the Hive’s sentient AI, the Red Queen, is compelling enough that Capcom eventually stuck her in Resident Evil: The Darkside Chronicles. Aside from this movie being full of British actors who do REALLY awful American accents, sounding like they all have mouths full of sausages, Paul W.S. Anderson’s first take on Resident Evil is probably the most watchable one he made. 

Resident Evil: Apocalypse - Okay, this one is watchable too, but in more of a popcorn-munching “lol, this shit is dumb” way. It steals the general plot of Resident Evils 2 and 3, with Raccoon City getting infected, but ups the cheese by a hundred. Alice is now a thirteen-year-old boy’s version of a BADAZZ woman, with lots of guns and a bare midriff, and she teams up with Jill Valentine, who resembles her game self in looks but not exactly in personality. Together, they’ve gotta escape Raccoon City along with Carlos Oliveira, who is possibly the only character from the games who is done a great service in these Anderson movies, which make him much more likable even if they couldn’t find an actual Hispanic actor to portray him and had to settle for an Israeli instead. Oh, and Nemesis shows up, because one of the dudes from the first movie who accompanied Alice into the Hive gets experimented on and turned into what honestly looks like someone’s Halloween costume. The writers commit a cardinal sin at the end of the flick by humanizing him, having him suddenly remember his TRUE SELF and help the good guys, but aside from that screw-up I admit that I had a goofy grin on my face throughout several parts of this movie. After Nemesis blows up the Raccoon City station and murmurs his one line of dialogue- “STARRRRRSSSS” - I even kinda felt like clapping. So yeah, Apocalpyse is idiotic fun.

Resident Evil: Extinction - Here’s where the movies stop being mildly entertaining and become varying degrees of either “meh” or just plain bad. Extinction’s biggest problem is that it makes the weird decision of having the entire PLANET be wiped nearly completely clean by Umbrella’s virus, giving the franchise the most generic setting imaginable for a zombie flick - a post-apocalyptic world. And even though this film features Claire Redfield and actually has Alice fight a Tyrant that looks the part, I feel that by turning the environment into Mad Max the filmmakers missed the entire point of the franchise. Resident Evil isn’t really about a “what if” scenario with mankind dying and zombies taking over the world. Instead, it’s about how humanity manages to cope in a time where zombies are used by corporations for terrorism purposes - hence the franchise’s “bio-organic weapon” catch-phrase for its creatures. It’s about how brave people live on in an era that just happens to feature biopunk monsters as a deadly fact of life. It’s about the evil that resides within a world that is pretty shitty, but hasn’t completely gone to shit. By turning the whole planet into the same ol’ zombie playground that we see in most popular fiction starring these workman-like horror tropes, Extinction - which probably thought it was upping the stakes - instead just feels sorta dull, and anyone who views the film today is probably going to see it as a weaker version of The Walking Dead. Oh, and it ends with Alice discovering clones of herself, which will only serve to screw with the loose continuity of these movies as they go on. 

Resident Evil: Afterlife - This one starts with Alice’s clones raiding the Umbrella facility in Tokyo, and the whole sequence - which feels like it should be the finale - is reduced to a few minutes of special effects in the beginning. (This is foreshadowing for the next two films, which both end with hints of giant, climatic battles that mostly happen off-screen, if at all.) The first thing that I noticed when watching this was how slow-mo kicked in every five minutes and how the camera seemed to linger on bullets, and I eventually remembered that this film was released during Hollywood’s obsession with 3D during the early 2010s. This explains Afterlife’s IN-YOUR-FACE-IN-THREE-DIMENSIONS action scenes, which are initially pretty in a music video sort of way but become overdone and tiresome as the movie goes on, kinda like a Zack Snyder film. (I place Paul W.S. Anderson in the same “style over substance” category of director as both Zack Snyder and Michael Bay, by the way.) Anyway, Afterlife deals with Alice teaming up with more survivors to try to find a secret ship haven free of zombies. Along the way she runs into Chris Redfield, who looks more like a janitor than the jacked BSAA agent that he is in the games, and Chris and Claire Redfield have a quick sibling reunion and fight Wesker in a scene with choreography shamelessly stolen from Resident Evil 5. It’s pandering fan service and sort of diverting, but ultimately none of it matters. Chris disappears after this movie and is never seen again, and Afterlife is more interesting as a specimen of 2010 3D excess than it is as an actual narrative.

Resident Evil: Retribution - Retribution amps the pandering fan service that Afterlife dabbled in to new levels. Ada Wong is here, played by Li Bingbing but dubbed by her original voice actress, Sally Cahill, probably because Li’s English isn’t that great. Leon Kennedy and Barry frickin’ Burton show up, both looking pretty much like their in-game counterparts. Even Michelle Rodriguez and a few other faces from Paul W.S. Anderson’s first Resident Evil flick make an appearance, thanks to the fact that this movie has clones up the wazoo and uses them to handwave away any series inconsistencies you could think of. So you’re got fan service for the people who like the games and fan service for the folks who liked the first movie, and on top of it all the film has the extreme 3D that its predecessor possessed and a buttload of battles because it all takes place in a giant Umbrella simulation facility full of stuff that can easily be wrecked. By now the plot to these things has gotten more scrambled than my eggs in the morning, but I will say that thanks to its inclusion of classic characters, Retribution is more or less tolerable. There’s even a bit of characterization this time around, thanks to a little hearing-impaired clone girl who Alice takes under her wing and begins to care for, and the movie ends on an okay cliffhanger in a Washington DC under siege, promising epic things to come in the next movie. Unfortunately... Resident Evil: The Final Chapter - I really did not enjoy The Final Chapter for a myriad of reasons. First of all, the Washington battle promised at the end of Retribution never happens. Instead, we fast forward to several months later, when Alice is (big surprise) the only survivor, and EVERYONE she was with in the last flick - Ada, Leon, the little deaf girl - is gone and never mentioned ever again. Wesker, who Alice was working with in Retribution, is back to being a bad guy for poorly explained reasons. Another bad scientist dude that Alice killed in Extinction also returns for even worse reasons, because supposedly Alice only offed his clone three movies ago. But wait, this “real” bad scientist dude is also revealed to be a clone as the TRUE bad scientist dude shows up in the movie’s last act! AND THE ULTIMATE TWIST (look away now if you actually care about spoilers) is that Alice is HERSELF a clone of the original daughter of the Umbrella corporation’s founder who died of a degenerative disease and served as the basis for the Red Queen AI. The idiotic thing is that this daughter was said to be the progeny of Dr. Charles Ashford in Resident Evil: Apocalypse, but this movie retcons her to be the spawn of Dr. James Marcus. The Final Chapter, in fact, screws with continuity to a degree I have rarely seen before in a long-running film franchise. Yeah, the framework tying this series together got weird as soon as clones were introduced, but previously it seemed that Paul W.S. Anderson at least cared about his own messy fan fiction. Here? It’s like he forgot what he’d spent the last 15 years building up to and ended on one sloppy fart. If this weren’t bad enough, The Final Chapter is edited in that god awful “shaky cam, lots of fast cuts” way that I hate. In fact, I counted something like twenty cuts in a scene of a few seconds when Alice is attacked by a creature, which means that this film won’t just baffle you with its disregard for continuity - it’ll give you a headache too. 

Resident Evil: Degeneration - After watching an array of live-action flicks that took random Resident Evil threads and mashed them together with the elegance of a splattered turd, it did feel good to switch things up and move to the CG movies that were actually put out by Capcom. This 2008 offering takes place in between Resident Evils 4 and 5, stars Claire Redfield and Leon Kennedy, and deals with a virus breakout in an airport and some of the pharmaceutical company backstabbing that occurred in the aftermath of Umbrella’s destruction. It’s all stuff that feels like it could have come from a lesser gaiden game - perhaps in the same vein as the first Revelations title - and it kinda gives off that “so-so anime movie” vibe, especially because the dubbing always sounds a tad off. Nevertheless, Degeneration’s still a breath of fresh air compared to the Anderson series, and there’s a nice gag where Claire’s searching for a weapon in the airport, someone hands her a physical umbrella, and she looks at it and is like, “Hm, didn’t see this coming.” (Lollerskates.) The main issue I have with Degeneration is how “plasticky” everyone looks - it’s hard to realize how far computer animation has advanced in the last decade until you look at Degeneration’s stiff visuals and compare them to the other CG films. Also, Leon’s characterization is terrible. He’s meant to be a super serious badass, I guess, but he mostly just looks like someone rammed a Samurai Edge up his sphincter. I prefer my Leon Kennedy to be the “Don’t worry Ashley, I’m comin’ for ya!” version from Resident Evil 4, or at least a dude with a little sass to him. The guy in Degeneration is about as interesting as a board.  Resident Evil: Damnation - Damnation is a noticeable step above Degeneration, both in computer animation, which really got better from 2008 to 2012, and in all-around presentation. The dubbing’s still somewhat wonky with that same anime movie vibe, but the characterization is on point, and Leon, who’s taking center stage once more, is just like his RE6 self. Speaking of RE6, this movie channels that game’s themes of international terrorism with a plot that involves rebels in a made-up Eastern European country using Lickers and Las Plagas in an effort to fight for their freedom, only to learn that lo and behold, the nefarious female president who’s seized control of their nation has her own B.O.W.s - in the form of Tyrants - at her disposal. Leon’s caught in the middle of this mess and ends up befriending some of the rebels, and Ada Wong’s also infiltrated the country to manipulate the president. Ada and Leon’s interactions are as insubstantial as they’ve been in pretty much every game that isn’t the recent RE2make, but we do get a cool fight between Ada and the president, who for some reason knows substantial knife fu. There’s an even better battle between Tyrants and Lickers in a city hall square, and Leon gets throw against pillars, regularly takes hits that would kill a normal person and pilots a tank alongside one of the rebels who looks a lot like Chris Redfield but isn’t Chris Redfield. This dude serves as the film’s sympathetic character - a guy torn from his peaceful existence thanks to political wrangling and is tricked into using B.O.W.s to try to achieve a brighter future. It ends with the fella severely injured but learning how to live and move forward in a world infected with nefarious bioweapons, which is the very theme that the Anderson flicks ditched around movie number three. So good work for side-stepping previous failures and recognizing what Resident Evil is all about, Damnation. 

Resident Evil: Vendetta - If Degeneration’s a so-so anime movie, and Damnation a good anime movie, then Vendetta is just a good movie in general, with no “anime” distinction needed. The dubbing’s finally pretty decent, for one, and the story takes place in between RE6 and RE7, teaming Leon and Chris Redfield up with - HOLY CRAP - Rebecca Chambers, who’s been AWOL since Resident Evil Zero. They’ve gotta stop an arms dealer from bio-nuking New York and doing nasty things to Rebecca, who resembles his dead wife, and along the way Leon pilots a motorcycle on the freeway with his feet while shooting at Cerebrus with his hands. Nearly all of the movie’s considerable action segments are punctuated with rapid fire John Wick-style gunplay, and it works. It’s like the folks who made this film realized that the coolest part of Resident Evil 6 was the point where Leon and Chris point their guns at each other for a few seconds before deciding that they need to put their differences aside and cooperate, and even though you could conceivably fault Vendetta for leaning heavily towards the “action” side of Resident Evil rather than the “horror” side, it’s a well-paced film that finally gives us a substantial interaction between two series mainstays beyond the one minute they shared with each other in RE6. Also, people are still posting GIFs from Vendetta’s action sequences all across Tumblr and forums whenever arguments break out over whether Chris or Leon is TEH COoLER Resident Evil protagonist, so Capcom obviously did something right. If we get another computer animated film, I imagine it’ll lean more heavily towards horror since that’s where the series has gone recently...but hopefully the path of improvement that we’ve seen from Degeneration to Damnation to Vendetta won’t be broken. 

And with that, whew, I’m done with RE movies, at least until the rumored Hollywood reboot that’s supposedly drawing inspiration from Resident Evil 7 comes out. (It can’t be worse than The Final Chapter, I suppose.) I can’t say that my friends were wrong when they warned me that half of these would be shite, but I also can’t say that I ended on a bad note, because Vendetta was pretty good.

After all this, my grand playthrough and consumption of all Resident Evil media is about to finish Next post I make will be a last look at the franchise as a whole...and what a year’s worth of zombie headshots taught me.  All screencaps taken by me. 

[junker-town]

You can make a dang good NFL all-star team from non-FBS alums

Some NFL legends have taken the path from unheralded recruit to small-school prospect to big-league stardom.

Being a five-star recruit won’t guarantee you a spot in the NFL, but it certainly makes it a little easier to get there. Playing for a powerhouse Power 5 program can turn you into a household name and inundate scouts with plenty of opportunities to study your game. A blue-chip pedigree can also help teams overlook a lackluster college career in hopes of banking on the unknown quantity of untapped potential.

But NFL rosters don’t solely consist of can’t-miss high school stars. Some of the league’s best players were under-appreciated teenagers who never earned the adoration of scouts or collegiate assistant coaches. There are several standouts who played their college ball in front of small or disinterested crowds before overcoming the odds and earning a spot in the pros. In fact, you could probably put together a pretty good all-star team filled with them.

Let’s do that. Let’s say you had to make a team of all the best NFL players who were enrolled from non-FBS colleges from 1978 onward — the year the NCAA split Division I into I-A and I-AA distinctions that would later become the FBS and FCS, respectively. How would it look? How many Hall of Famers would you find?

It turns out, a whole bunch. I padded out the depth chart with a handful of backups for the especially solid positions — settling with 22 players wasn’t an option thanks to the level of talent the NCAA’s lower levels have pumped into the league.

Here’s that slightly unbalanced but totally stacked roster of non-FBS programs.

QB: Kurt Warner, Northern Iowa Phil Simms, Morehead State

Warner’s Hall of Fame career was built on his ability to revive both the Rams and Cardinals en route to Super Bowl appearances at each stop. That journey began in Cedar Falls, Iowa, as a single-year starter for Northern Iowa, weaved through various low-level feeder leagues like the NFL Europe and Arena Football League, and eventually landed in St. Louis as a lottery ticket backup. This crooked path to greatness put him ahead of a host of other celebrated names among the least-lauded high school passers.

Simms gets tabbed for backup duty after a pair of NFL championships in a Giants career that seems downright quaint when stacked up against the high-powered offenses of the 2010s. Only seven times had passers ever thrown for 4,000+ yards in a season when he pulled off that feat (along with Neil Lomax and Dan Marino) in 1984. As of 2019, it’s been done 175 times.

Check out the list of also-rans:

Ken Anderson, Augustana

Steve McNair, Alcorn State

Tony Romo, Eastern Illinois

Rich Gannon, Delaware

Joe Flacco, Delaware (after starting at Pittsburgh)

Ron Jaworski, Youngstown State

Ken O’Brien, Cal-Davis

And that doesn’t even count 2019 starters like Jimmy Garoppolo or Carson Wentz. Good QBs can come from anywhere.

WR: Jerry Rice, Mississippi Valley State Terrell Owens, Tennessee-Chattanooga Andre Reed, Kutztown

Rice is the greatest NFL player to come out of the now-FCS, then I-AA after the 1978 split. One of the few receivers even in his orbit statistically is Owens, who managed to be a longtime game-changer both on and off the field. Reed, the third Hall of Famer in the bunch, was a force in the early 90s and part of the Bills’ fearsome offensive Cerberus alongside Jim Kelly and Thurman Thomas.

There are even a couple of stellar backups available. Jackson State’s Jimmy Smith had nine seasons in which he had more than 1,000 receiving yards, but he was largely underrated as he toiled away for the Jacksonville Jaguars. Alcorn State’s Donald Driver rose up from the seventh round of the 1999 NFL Draft to account for more than 10,000 receiving yards for the Packers.

RB: Terrell Davis, Long Beach State (kinda) Brian Westbrook, Villanova David Johnson, Northern Iowa

Tailback is one of the thinner positions culled from these ranks, but if we cheat a little we can still find a Hall of Fame veteran. Davis started his college career at Long Beach State, then wound up at Georgia after the school discontinued its football program. Otherwise, you’re looking at the ultra-versatile Westbrook to hold down the top spot on the depth chart.

Behind him is a useful receiving threat who can also churn out yardage on the ground, though Johnson’s spot on the team is dependent on proving he’s more than just a one-season wonder after failing to follow up on his breakout 2016 in Arizona.

FB: Larry Centers, Stephen F. Austin

Centers, who played from 1990 to 2003, was ahead of his time as a pass-catching dynamo out of the backfield who could also pick up blitzes in a pinch. If he came to the NFL two decades later, he’d be a perennial Pro Bowler. Instead, he only went three times, which is still pretty good.

TE: Shannon Sharpe, Savannah State Ben Coates, Livingstone

Two of the top pass catchers of the 90s each make the team, just in case we end up throwing a lot of 22-formation sets into the mix.

Sharpe, who spends his days in retirement waking up early to battle a purposefully contrarian Vandy grad, was the decade’s most dominant tight end — an athletic specimen who stretched defenses and chipped blockers despite suboptimal size. Coates was often the best thing about a woeful Patriots’ offense, serving as Drew Bledsoe’s No. 1 target in a pass-happy offense.

OL: Nate Newton, G/T, Florida A&M Matt Birk, C, Harvard Tom Newberry, G/C, UW-La Crosse Jahri Evans, T, Bloomsburg Larry Allen, G, Sonoma State Adam Timmerman, G, South Dakota State Tunch Ilkin, G/C/T, Indiana State

Protecting Warner and clearing a path for Westbrook is a heady brew of Hall of Famers and sturdy pros who range from the FCS to Division III. The headliner is Allen, who made six All-Pro teams while anchoring the Cowboys’ offensive line for 12 seasons and was athletic enough at 325 pounds to stop pick-sixes in progress. Behind him are a combination of players who can hold down multiple positions at an all-star level.

DE: Howie Long, Villanova Richard Dent, Tennessee State Michael Strahan, Texas Southern Jared Allen, Idaho State

There’s an embarrassment of riches when it comes to smaller-school pass rushers. I went four deep and still had to exclude Mark Gastineau (attended East Central University after Arizona State) and Lyle Alzado, whose alma mater — Yankton College — no longer exists.

Instead, you’ve got three Hall of Famers and Allen, who will likely join them once he’s eligible. Between them they’ve got 499 career sacks and the chops to completely terrorize opposing quarterbacks.

DT: John Randle, Texas A&M-Kingsville Clyde Simmons, Western Carolina Pat Williams, Northeastern Oklahoma A&M College

That pass-rushing punch only gets stronger with Randle leading things on the inside; the undersized tackle had nine seasons with 10+ sacks in his Hall of Fame career. He’s bolstered by an out-of-position Simmons, who moved inside late in his career but is best known for a 19-sack breakout season as an Eagles defensive end back in 1992.

If it’s thickness you crave, you can throw Williams into the lineup; the 317-pounder was a blocker-absorbing vacuum up front in 14 years as a pro.

LB: Karl Mecklenburg, Augustana Sam Mills, Montclair State London Fletcher, John Carroll Greg Lloyd, Fort Valley State

MORE BEEF. This lineup provides two run-stopping tackling machines in the middle and some extra power at the edge in Mecklenburg and Lloyd. The outside guys combined for more than 120 sacks, while Mills and Fletcher have nearly 3,300 career tackles between them.

And if you don’t like those guys, you could always sub in Bart Scott, Jessie Tuggle, Charles Haley, Mike Merriweather, Bryan Cox, or Jeremiah Trotter.

CB: Everson Walls, Grambling State Albert Lewis, Grambling State Aeneas Williams, Southern Darrell Green, Texas A&M-Kingsville

Cornerback is stocked with players who were very good for very long, including a pair of Eddie Robinson-coached bookends in Walls and Lewis, who have eight Pro Bowl selections together. They’re stuck in a rotational role behind Williams and Green, however — two Hall of Famers who played for a combined 34 seasons.

S: Eugene Robinson, Colgate Tyrone Braxton, North Dakota State Rodney Harrison, Western Illinois

There’s a lot of range and some big hits from our center fielders in this lineup. Robinson gave the league 16 solid years. Braxton was a versatile defensive back who could line up at either corner or safety and played a major role as Denver crashed through to glory in the late 90s. Harrison brought the lumber over a borderline Hall of Fame career with the Chargers and Patriots.

K: Adam Vinatieri, South Dakota State

Still going at age 46. Few kickers are surefire Hall of Famers, but Vinatieri’s one of them. He’s kicked 582 field goals so far in his career — most in league history and 141 more than the next closest active kicker. His 56 postseason field goals are the most the NFL’s ever seen by a double-digit margin.

P: Sean Landeta, Towson

A pretty good punter! Landeta stuck in the NFL for 21 seasons and was a three-time first team All-Pro. Like Simms, he won two Super Bowl rings with the Giants.

What if we had to make a starting 22 based on only active players? I’ve got some ideas there, too.

QB: Carson Wentz, North Dakota State

RB: David Johnson, Northern Iowa Jerick McKinnon, Georgia Southern Tarik Cohen, North Carolina A&T

FB: Kyle Juszczyk, Harvard

WR: Cooper Kupp, Eastern Washington Adam Thielen, Minnesota State Tyrell Williams, Western Oregon

TE: Delanie Walker, Central Missouri State Dallas Goedert, South Dakota State

OL: Terron Armstead, Arkansas-Pine Bluff J.C. Tretter, Cornell Julie’n Davenport, Bucknell Ryan Jensen, Colorado State-Pueblo Laurent Duvernay-Tardif, McGill (Canada) and, for depth, free agents Jermon Bushrod from Towson and Brandon Fusco from Slippery Rock

DE: Akiem Hicks, Regina (playing a bit out of position) Matt Judon, Grand Valley State Derek Rivers, Youngstown State

DT: Damon Harrison, William Penn Javon Hargrave, South Carolina State Brandon Williams, Missouri Southern

LB: Darius Leonard, South Carolina State Patrick Onwuasor, Portland State Samson Ebukam, Eastern Washington Todd Davis, Sacramento State

CB: Malcolm Butler, West Alabama Trumaine Johnson, Montana Josh Norman, Coastal Carolina Robert Alford, SE Louisiana

S: Jeff Heath, Saginaw Valley State Antoine Bethea, Howard

K: Adam Vinatieri, South Dakota State

P: Jordan Berry, Eastern Kentucky

You can find elite players from the NCAA’s smaller schools at every position in the league. Most of them can even be picked up on Day 3 of the NFL Draft or later. If you’re looking for underdogs just waiting for the opportunity to make good on Sundays, you can start looking toward the gridiron’s non-FBS programs on Saturdays first.

[theoriginalladya]

Intimacy prompts: 21 or 51 for Caleb or Rhys? :)

from this list

Caleb on AO3 here

Rhys on AO3 here

(because I never say NO to prompts, you get BOTH!! lol)

Okay, so first of all, thank you very much for asking these!!!  They were definitely a challenge!  Until I recalled something from Caleb’s post-war stories that would work and Rhys finally cooperated with SLOW dancing! lol

Full posts are on AO3, but here’s a snippet of each one for you to get a taste!  Enjoy!

~~~

Listening to Someone’s Heartbeat - Caleb

The message, when it comes, isn’t wholly unexpected.  From the moment of enlistment at the age of eighteen, Caleb Shepard knew it was a distinct possibility.  The dangers of being a soldier, the risks of the mission, the simple byproduct of being in the wrong place at the wrong time; it is always a possibility.  Granted, no longer being on active duty diminishes the risk considerably.  For himself. The one thing he never expects is to be on the receiving end of such a message.

“Daidí, hurry!”

Caleb is in the middle of pouring syrup over a Niamh sized stack of waffles when her plaintive cry flies across the kitchen targeting him.  He is about to remind her to be patient, but a soft and very English-sounding cackle from his left requires attention first.  Caleb elbows Coats in the ribs while Abby, having clearly foreseen the upcoming attack, swoops in to rescue the plate and takes it over to the child. “Careful there, sealgaire,” she calls back to him while setting it in front of Niamh, ruffling her curls as she pulls away, “I’d kind of like my marriage to last more than a month, you know?”

Coats responds to the prod by grabbing Caleb’s arm and twisting it behind his back – not too hard, but just enough to get his attention.  “Back to this again, are we, Shannon?”

Caleb responds with a move similar to his ‘dance’ days with Vega in the Shuttle Bay of the Normandy during the war, flipping Coats over his shoulder and onto his back on the floor.  It results in a winded groan as well as a rattling of the dishes in the cabinets.  But as the former commander side-steps the major to get back to the waffle iron, Coats grabs his leg.  Caleb catches himself on the edge of the counter, knocking the bowl of waffle batter over the edge … and upside down in the center of Coats’ chest.  All of this happens just as his omni-tool starts to buzz.

“Shannon!”

“Trasna ort féin, Hammersmith!”  Coats releases him as he shakes his leg free, stepping off to the side of the kitchen before opening up his omni-tool.  

As he retreats, Abby shoos him completely out of the room.  “I’ll clean this mess up and take care of the children.”  Her gaze drops to her husband who is making more of a mess as he sits up. “All three of them.  Go take your call, it’s probably Kaidan.”  

Caleb smiles his thanks to her and heads down the hall.  By the time he enters the den, the call is up, but the person on the other end of the connection is not familiar to him.  “This is Shepard.”...

Slow Dancing - Rhys

Rhys knows something is up when he walks into the cabin and music is playing.  Soft, slow music, not the normal up-beat tunes he and Kaidan tend to listen to. That and the room is completely dark except for the fish tank and minimal light that can be seen through the ceiling window.  This dark means one of two things, and it isn’t the sleep cycle, so …  This can’t be good.  Frowning, he calls out, just loud enough to be heard, “Kaidan?”

The squeak of movement on the leather cushions of the sofa fills the room.  “Down here.”

It’s definitely Kaidan’s voice, but something about it sounds off.  Descending to the lower level, Rhys finds Kaidan lying stretched out on the sofa, one arm over his eyes, the other resting over his waist.  Sighing softly, he moves around to sit on the open side. Not good at all.  “Migraine?” he asks quietly as he takes a seat.

“Tail end of one.  That’s why the music’s on.”  

He lifts the hand from his waist and Rhys reaches over to take it, wrapping his around it securely.  Scooting a bit closer, Kaidan lifts himself up just enough so Rhys can slide beneath his head and shoulders, offering support. “Better?”

Kaidan’s lips curve in a hint of a smile.  “Much.”

“What caused it this time?”  Since Cerberus gave him the L5 implant, Kaidan still suffers from the occasional migraine, but rarely due to use of his biotics.  

Kaidan’s hand squeezes tightly around his, just for a second, before releasing.  “Nothing for you to worry over.”

Huffing softly, Rhys uses the fingers of his free hand to comb through Kaidan’s hair.  “Oh, that isn’t ominous at all.  Matter of fact, you tend to use that excuse when you know I will worry –.”

“And then you end up with the migraine.” Kaidan’s lips curve another tic upward. “Better me than you.”

Rhys huffs, practically daring him to continue arguing.

“Trust me, there isn’t anything you could have done about it anyway except get a migraine.  It’s a Spectre related thing.”...