#love to imagine the kind of bickering that could exist due to that

[minweber]

Musings on Custodes: Nobilitas Terra

Ah, the now famous “all Custodians begin their lives as the infant sons of the noble houses of Terra” line from the 8th edition codex (not reproduced in the 9th one, btw). It has now experienced the kind meteoric rise in quotation previously enjoyed only by biblical verses in times of major church schisms. Let’s talk about the part of it that’s actually interesting though.

So Custodians are drawn from the children of Terra’s nobility. It is apparently not exclusive and other sources are allowed on Custodes’ own discretion, but this is both the traditional and the main one. It seems that originally the Emperor was doing something of a mamluk/janissaries thing with them, taking infant children from the families of his potential rivals as both hostages and soldiers that could be raised loyal only to him. Later, when his power grew to so far outstrip that of Terra’s aristocracy as to make any internal challenge of it inconceivable, it instead became prestigious to submit a child of a family to this service - not conscription, but an offering to the golden idol of humanity instead.

So surely, in 42nd millennium, with the Emperor’s eclipsing presence… changed, if not gone, there must be some sort of interesting dynamic between the Custodians and the bloodlines that spawned them? Well, the codex seems to dismiss the idea out of hand, stating that there is no real way for nobles of Terra to recognize their scions once they become Custodians - which presumably means that there is no grounds for interaction? And sure, I can recognize why the official lore in its current state isn't interested in that: Custodians are fixated on the Emperor to the exclusion of everything else, and the Terran nobility itself is a fairly faceless thing in the lore, one of which we don't really know enough about to build any kind of investment from their perspective.

But here we are all about the things that could yet be, rather than the things that just are! And I honestly think a bit of lore expansion in this direction could be pretty interesting!

Between the origins of the Rogue Traders and the Custodians themselves it seems that, much like the priesthood of Mars, some clans on Terra were indeed once powerful enough to make the newly ascendant Emperor deal with them in terms other than total subjugation or destruction. Would the meteoric rise of the Imperium during the Great Crusade grow or diminish their powers? On one hand - the previously mentioned growth of the Emperor's power in relation to them and the whole new "breed" of imperial elite he was literally creating (I know that in modern lore there is some speculation about what were actually his plans for the Astartes and the primarchs post-Crusade, but however things would have turned out for them, had he his way, I doubt it would have resulted in even a modicum of power returning to the hands of his once-rivals)... But on the other - during times of obscene growth and expansion rich and powerful tend to grow even more so, and I doubt that grimdark future avoids this tendency. So I will go out on a limb a little and say that while during the rise of the Imperium the power of Terran nobility may have waned in relative terms, it probably grew in the absolute ones.

And the following ten thousand years of sitting at the top of a stupidly expansive feudal confederacy probably did not hurt them either!

In the days of the Era Indomitus, then, these vague "noble houses of Terra" must be some sort of force to be reckoned with - politically, culturally, and probably even militarily. Likely on a galactic scale. And the personal guard of the Emperor, the supposedly most advanced beings in the entire Imperium, the living symbol of his power - are staffed almost exclusively by the scions of those houses. Do you see my vision? Do you agree that something simply must be there?!

Custodians are the Emperor's representatives and envoys, the single most powerful military force on Terra and the organization in full undisputed control of access to the most holy site in the entire Imperium, a place from which, technically, ALL authority within its borders is derived. Even without the bloodline connection there should be some kind of a relationship between them and the other powers of the throneworld! Even if we look at the pre-codex, fully palace-bound version of Custodes that care for absolutely nothing other than the Emperor's corpse physical safety - they still recognized that the events on larger Terra influence this safety and need to be at least reacted upon. And in the modern version they have never even been that shut-off. Even before the lifting of the Edict of Restraint, Solar Watch patrolled the Sol system entire, Aquilan Shield departed on their mysterious protector missions and the Emissaries Imperatus were busy being a diplomatic corps, for fuck's sake. I find it hard to believe that they would simply ignore Terra's political players, leaving them to do whatever unless someone rolled up armed to the Imperial Palace. So there definitely would be interactions - and once that hook is in, the fun begins.

Are custodians willing to "stoop down" and play nobility's games with them? Do they even have aversion to doing so? Surely, with all the talk about their talents beyond head-chopping, they are capable of scheming with the best of them? And if doing so is the most efficient way to get the job done - why would they object? And if they are no strangers to political manipulation and the noble families desperately want the prestige that comes with having produced a Custodian - why wouldn't the demigods indulge them and use it as a tool? Especially since they - if we keep the codex idea of it being impossible to recognize surrendered infants as the Custodians they become - hold all the cards and can basically present any of their number as a scion of this or that family? And while we are at it - do they themselves actually know? I imagine it must be not that important to them, but are there any records kept? Could you be a 200 hundred year old Custodian fresh out of training (a random example - like so many things, it is not known how long the creation and training of a Custodian takes) and be suddenly told that the aging matron of a noble house with whom you have to go and negotiate is actually your biological mother? Would that stir something? Curiosity, at least? Or is the Emperor’s light so absolute that it can blind one to even the most deep-nested human impulses?

Do Custodians remember sins and glories forgotten by the tapestries of gold and jewels? Do they watch some relatively minor and unimportant house with baffling prejudice - all because someone from it almost outdid the Emperor in something more than ten thousand years ago? Do some bloodlines enjoy unseen protection due to secret deals that have passed out of all human memory?

What about the internal politics of the organization? Millenia of drafting from a relatively closed pool of families means that some Custodians are related to each other - does that matter to them in any way? Even if the golden demigods are completely free of prejudice and superstition - which their history of paranoia kinda tells me they are not - genetics do play an objectively huge part in their existence. Is more expected of those drafted from families that produce more Custodians than others, or have spawned some especially renowned heroes? Once again - is it even public knowledge amidst the Custodes?

And what about the nobles themselves? Do they seek favor of the Adeptus Custodes? Is such a thing even possible? Do they view them as another player in their political games, or are they more of a force of nature, a condition that everyone has to deal with and adapt to? How does the process of submitting children even work nowadays? Is it compulsory? How many are taken from each family/genertaion? Do any struggle against this harvest, or has the honor of the thing completely overshadowed any resentment that they might have had?

Basically what I am saying is that, for the purposes of worldbuilding, interaction between systems is always better than the lack of thereof. And if one were looking for the ways to expand Custodes' lore - this one feels like a great source of characterization for them.

[hanmi-xo]

CHAPTER 16: "So This Is Love?"

| My Happiness | Chapter List |

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I watched Suyeong and Sujun help Halmeoni Eun clean up the dining table and kitchen. Yesterday felt like an odd dream, but when I woke up in Chan's guest room, it made me accept reality.

Those men really did threaten my family, and Chan really did come to our rescue. Everything that happened- it was all real.

Last night, his family was surprised to see us but welcomed us with open arms, especially his halmeoni. I haven't seen her in years but she remained mostly the same. There were only slight changes. Her hair was no longer black and gray streaks, and it had changed to white due to her old age. Her face wasn't as youthful as it was before and her cheeks sagged with wrinkles. Although it's been almost 10 years, her enthusiasm never changed. It amazes me how she still has so much energy.

"Good job you two!" She cheerfully said as Suyeong washed dishes and Sujun cleaned the table.

I sat on the couch while Chan remained on the phone with his colleague. His parents left earlier this morning for work, but before they left, they did insist on taking my siblings and me out for dinner sometime this weekend. It was kind of them to want to do that- even how they didn't want to ask about what happened with my parents and our home.

I guess they might have an idea how my parents can be problematic. They were neighbors once so they might have seen or heard the things my parents have done. Either or, his family treated us kindly as guests. I can see how loving Chan's family is. He grew up in a good home- in a good family.

I could hear Chan in the upstairs hallway. He was talking on the phone with one of his colleagues. I wasn't sure if it was Wonwoo or Hansol.

I couldn't imagine what they're talking about.

Or maybe, I just didn't want to know what they're talking about.

The fact my siblings and I barged into their home felt wrong, but his family kept saying that they didn't mind. It was odd really.

How did things lead to where I am now?

Of course I knew, but a part of me also wanted to know how these events chained into this. Maybe if I had female friends I wouldn't feel so guilty bothering the boy I grew up with, but even then, would they even be happy to help me?

I never liked asking for help nor showing people my struggle, but when people like Chan exists, it makes it difficult for me to pull away.

He has always been a light in people life and it saddens me that I am the one to give him stress. I know Hansol insists that Chan doesn't mind, but a part of me still feels guilty.

"Subin," his voice called out to me.

Chan came down the stairs while he brought his phone to his pocket. He seemed okay but I can't tell if he's forcing that expression of his. He seemed rather calm.

"Wonwoo connected some of your parents information to recent cases. He said he wants to talk to you tomorrow once you're available," he informs me.

His voice was more of a whisper so the others wouldn't hear us. He looked over at Halmeoni Eun and my siblings who were being quite loud.

Suyeong and Sujun were bickering as they usually do whereas Halmeoni Eun would laugh at their silly behavior. She was able to defuse the two by insisting on getting them sweets later. I couldn't help but grow soft from her. It's been awhile since I've seen my siblings get excited towards someone that isn't me.

Is this how they're supposed to be treated if we had a real family? If we had real parents? I looked at Chan who seemed to be beaming.

He grinned brightly as he admired the interactions between our family members. They spoke as if they known each other for years but they literally just met each other last night.

Maybe if Chan and I were friends years before, then this would have been a daily occurrence of our families being together.

The thought of that made me feel a bit empty. Maybe things would have been better if I reached out to Chan sooner instead of avoiding him.

I lowered my brows. Maybe things can be different now...

I wanted to tell him how grateful I am for allowing my siblings and I to stay at his home but before I could speak, he turned around to look at me.

Our eyes met for a moment, and he tried to speak as well, but he hesitated. I can tell he felt embarrassed. His eyes were always bright, and seeing them look nervous was amusing.

Did he like me this much that he can't look me in my eyes? I felt myself get flustered from the thought. How can he be so loving towards someone like me?

"Uhm... So..." he said with wandering eyes.

His cheeks were flustered as he tried to find his words. I couldn't help but smile at his awkward behavior. He was always charming without trying and even now, he's as cute as he is when he's confident.

I noticed a few strands of his hair were sticking up so I stuck out my hand to pat them down. He must have forgotten to comb his hair after he woke up. He must have got up pretty early since there was bags under his eyes.

I wonder what time Wonwoo called him?

I watched Chan grow flustered from my actions. He looked at me as if I did something astonishing. It was funny seeing him rather out of it. It was hard to hide my grin. Does he not know how adorable he is?

"Chan?" I call for his attention since he seems to be in a trance.

He shook his head as if he was waking himself up. "O-oh... Yeah! Uhm-"

"UNNIE!"

I turned to look at Suyeong who put on her backpack. Behind her was Sujun who was brushing off crumbs from his uniform shirt.

"We're gonna head out now!~" she tells me while she headed to the front door.

Halmeoni Eun slowly walked behind the two with a smile towards us.

"I have to stop by the farmer's market!" She says with a smile. "I'll be back in a few hours!"

I watched as she put on her sun hat before waving to us. I watched my siblings smile while they gazed at Halmeoni Eun. I never seen them smile like that towards someone they just met.

It let me put my heart at ease knowing that- even though we aren't in the best circumstances- they still are smiling. They're still happy. Chan and I both waved and watched the three disappear with a shut of the door.

Chan and I were alone.

I felt myself get nervous knowing nobody else would be bothering us for the time being.

"I guess it's just the two of us...?" I turned to look at him.

His eyes remained on me. He seemed to have a lot to say but he also seemed to be holding back. I guess he too felt nervous.

I felt like a teenager with her crush. I tried to hide my embarrassment by looking at anything that isn't Chan.

I felt something touch my forehead. My eyes shot up and I found Chan resting his hand on my temple. He had low brows and a soft expression. I didn't know how to react.

"You really have gotten better even after what happened," he whispers.

My eyes met his. Why did they look at me with so much adoration? My heart skipped a beat and I felt the butterflies caged in my gut begin to open.

He was stood close to me but enough so I had some space. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't. My throat felt dry suddenly. How did I get so scared of Chan? How can he do this to me?

My heart was racing, and I didn't know how to stop it.

"I'm happy you're better now." His words were soft just like his eyes.

He moved a few strands of my hair away from my face, and the feeling of his finger tips sent a tingle throughout my body. He caressed my cheek gently.

We gazed at each other.

I brought my hand up over his, and I held on to it. There's so much I wanted to ask him. I wanted to look away so I can bring myself back to reality, but the way his orbs reflected off of me with so much affection- I couldn't ignore it. My hand came off his and l held his face in my hands.

Throughout this time with him, everything he has done- If it weren't for him, my siblings and I wouldn't have a place to go. He did small gestures that lead to where I am now, and I can not ignore that. I don't know how I could tell him how grateful I was for his kindness or how to express adoration towards his character. 

Chan was always Chan, but right now, I was seeing him in a new light. He wasn't just Chan, he wasn't just my childhood neighbor, he wasn't just my classmate, but he was my friend. Chan was my friend who liked me. His confession was like a gem. Something rare and beautiful, just like him. He was and will always be that same loving sweetheart from my memories. It's just now that I'm experiencing it first hand how incredible he truly is.

His eyes widened from my actions, and I couldn't stop myself from what I was going to do next.

I wanted to thank him, but I couldn't say it. There was no words to express how I felt towards him, so instead, I showed it. I tiptoed to meet his level.

I closed my eyes and my lips met his.

They were softer than they appeared. I felt the butterflies take over me while my face grew hot from the emotions I were feeling. I pulled away, but I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He held me close to him while my hands ended up on his chest. I looked up at him while his eyes looked down at me. We were so close to each other. It felt like I was going to melt from the way were were pressed together.

His body heat kept me warm and I could feel his chest move as he breathed softly. I never done this to anyone, nor have I ever been held like this. I felt so nervous- I quickly looked away from him. I buried my face in his chest and for a moment I felt his body shake as if he was chuckling. I gripped his shirt tightly as I tried to contain my feelings.

In return, he hugged me tightly. It felt good to be in his embrace. I felt safe, and above all, loved.

~

Chan held my hand as he drove. His hands were fit right in mine. I covered my mouth with my hand as I tried to quietly hide my squeal. While he drove, his thumb would now and then caress the back of my hand, and I would pretend to be looking out the window.

I can't believe kissed him in his own home, and now we're holding has like a couple.

I wanted to hide in a hole from this fear and excitement that was running through me. My heart raced the more I thought about him, and even now, I can't even look at him without smiling like a fool.

Once we reached the restaurant, Chan didn't let go of my hand. I wanted to pull away but I also didn't want to leave him. A part of me was scared of what may happen if he isn't around, but another part of me knew I shouldn't grow so reliant on him.

"I'll pick you up later," Chan tells me.

He gazed at me with a soft smile. I nodded my head. I felt his hand leave mine. A part of me felt empty without his grasp. He then opened his door and I watched as he left his car to go over to my side.

I covered my mouth once I realized what he was doing. He opened my door and stuck out his hand towards me.

I wanted to squeal like a little girl from his actions. Chan- what am I going to do with you!?

I held his hand and he pulled me towards him. I left his car and he shut it behind me. His hand remained in mine for a moment before letting go.

"Don't work too hard," he tells me with a grin. "I don't want you to get sick again."

Butterflies ran through me. His words struck me like a bullet, and if I didn't have work and if I didn't have to deal with my parents, I would gladly be with him for the rest of the day.

But I already told Junhui that I felt better, and of course, I still need money to take care of my siblings.

"I'll see you soon, Subin." Chan's words were light as a feather. It came out so naturally and I felt myself blush.

"Okay," I whisper.

He caressed my face for a moment and gave me a grin. My heart raced. He then let me go and I had to walk to the building that stood in front of us. He watched me enter the restaurant before entering his car.

I sighed once I heard Minyook's voice. Looks like I'm back to reality.

I turned back over to look at Chan and he waved towards me. His eyes remained on me.

I smiled.

Maybe this won't be so bad. Chan will be with me. I'll see him later and everything will be okay.

• • •

Previous | Next

[suna-reversed]

“The bargain”

Sukuna x Reader// hcs

loads of crack and fluff. putting makeup on the grumpy curse🥺

this is a side drabble to “and when he walks in, I am loved. I am loved.”  (not necessary to have read it as these are independent headcanons)

- you’ve been Yuji’s best friend since forever, and also one of the rare “outsiders” to know about the centuries old curse that lives within him.

- and you have spent enough time with Yuji for him to be assured about your safety if he was to ever shift suddenly.

- and even though Sukuna has grown to “tolerate you”, there is nothing more he loves than to annoy you every chance he gets.

- which leads to a lot of bickering. like a lot! Yuji wants to rip his hair out every time it starts.

- said bickering eventually leads to the curse regretting it’s existence in the whole wide world on one unfortunate day.

- you were dragging Yuji across the arcade to the alien ship shooting game for the 50th time in that week alone.

- you were startled by the sudden voice of the curse, who further made you yelp as you realised it wasn’t just his mouth that had spoken. it was him.

- had you driven Yuji to such an edge that he thought shifting was a better option?

- “Why are your stupid antics even more annoying than any other day brat?”

- this statement from him paved the way to your usual round of bickering.

- said bickering leading to a bargain being made as Sukuna didn’t wish to be annoyed by the menacing sounds of the guns in the game you had dragged him up to,

- “you have been trying to win the facile task for longer than the span of my life-“

-“well why don’t you give it a try then since you’re so sure about it being easy?”

- and when has the curse ever stepped away from a challenge ?

- pfftt this wasn’t even a challenge, this was a mere stupid simulation made for the entertainment of humans (if only he could shoot actual people with those guns)

- and that’s how a bargain was made.

- sukuna claiming that he’ll win the game in less than a blink of your eye, and then you’d never drag them back into this wretched place again.

- “but if you lose” the curse raised an eyebrow as if daring you to speak,

- “...I get to do your makeup”

- his eyes narrowed at that but he brushed you off, since he knew that there was no way you’d actually win,

- “deal”

——————

- “Ah no! This box is an absolute piece of trash.”

- “hey stop kicking the game !” You said trying to shush down the curse as you got strange looks from the people around.

- You had never been more grateful for Yuji’s uniform covering the marks on his face.

- “Anyways, you’ve lost the bargain about 3 times by now. Time for me to get my due” You said with a grin slowly making it’s way up your face (I imagine it as the same look Hange gets when she sees titans)

- He’d never admit it but Sukuna had never felt this terrified of a teenage girl who was half his size before.

————

- and that’s how he found himself sitting down on the corner of your bed, you hovering over him with a dozen different products and tools.

- “hmm would you look better in bronze eyeshadow or plum...” you asked no one in particular.

- “Let’s just go with both!” you exclaimed while pulling out even more stuff from the small bag that seemed to contain the entirety of the universe.

- The worst part about the whole thing was that Sukuna knew you weren’t doing this to mock him. He could feel it in your tone that you were genuinely excited to adorn him with these products.

- He scowled as you held his face up, trying to pull away at first, but then sighing and stilling as you gave him a pointed look that said “you brought this upon yourself”

- soon enough, he found his eyes fluttering closed as you rubbed some lavender scented cream into his skin.

- the curse had never really gotten any kind of affection you know...?

- so these new sensations were an absolute treat to him as he tried not to purr when you massaged that one spot on his jaw

- “what am I doing?” He thought to himself. He’d barely even have to lift a finger to crush you to pieces.

- And suddenly, he regretted that thought coming into his mind as he realised that it truly unsettled him.

- he hadn’t particularly considered how human you were before. anyone could easily make your breath stop in the span of less than a second.

- at that moment, he convinced himself that this part that felt protectiveness over you wasn’t even him. That it was just the feelings of his vessel being projected onto him.

-Nonetheless, it didn’t stop him from clenching his fists and inwardly thinking of all the ways he’d destroy anyone who even dared to think of hurting you.

- “tsk tsk, stop clenching your eyes so hard, I don’t wanna end up blinding you.”

- relaxing his eyes at your voice, it was only now that he realised how close you had gotten to him.

- and was that your...knee placed in between his spread legs? (ensue mental screaming)

- however out of everything, this was the most foreign feeling,

- your hand holding the side of his face so tenderly. so gently. as if he was fragile one here.

- he could hear your heartbeat in his ears as you dragged something over the lid of his eye. why was it racing?

- why were you being so careful with him? was this a ploy? because at that moment, he’d have given up his own sanity just to feel you hold him like that every day.

- he almost wanted to whine at the loss of your warmth as you pulled away.

- “there you go” you said while pulling out a small mirror and placing it in his hand.

- he could barely get a look at his reflection before he felt your hands come back on his cheeks and....squish them?

- “you’re so pretty” you squealed with a smile brighter than the sun itself

- even though he scowled and let out a small growl in response, he found himself leaning more into your touch anyway.

- you were surprised at how easy it was to make him look at the camera while you snapped a thousand pictures, ready to show them to nobara the next time you went shopping with her.

- the curse could not care less about its own vanity, but as it stared at itself in the bathroom mirror, he couldn’t deny that the liner on his eyes and highlighter on his cheekbones accentuated his face a lot

- you had somehow managed to make him look more,,,intimidating? (ah the raw fear of gender envy!)

- he didn’t even bother to wash it off his face, walking out the bathroom only to see you passed out on the bed, one of your legs hanging off the end of it

- putting your leg back up, he pulled a blanket over you, stopping by to run his finger over the adorable scrunch between your brow.

- his hand stilled as your eyes slightly opened,

- “you’re pretty” you mumbled, grabbing the hand he had pulled an inch away from you, too deep in your slumber to be ashamed about having clutched it to yourself while you went back to sleep.

- Sukuna held his breath for the longest time waiting for you to realise who he was. what he was. but you held onto his finger with the same softness that you now held his heart with.

- he leaned down, holding his chin up on his other hand while he gazed at your serene face. He had never been more glad to have lost a bargain.

[laurore-stormwitch]

BEWARE THERE ARE ROW SPOILERS IN THIS FAN FICTION

So, I did something. Rule of Wolves left me in tears. But I felt we were missing an epilogue, and that’s my take. We can see a little of Nikolai courting Zoya, his proposal and the wedding. I poured all my love into this, all of how much these characters mean to me. I hope it can bring comfort and a smile to all of you who love them as much. I don’t say it much, but this is one of the things I loved most writing, and I hope you’re gonna enjoy it. I send a big hug to whoever has taken this grishaverse wild ride  word count: 4953 you are my endless summer - ao3 

“Is this strictly necessary?”

Zoya asked, faking more annoyance than she felt. She wondered what kind of crazy idea had come to Nikolai’s mind this time, as she stumbled through the woods with a strip of cloth tied on her eyes. Nikolai was guiding her, holding her hand and her elbow to steady her through the fallen branches on the ground. He didn’t answer, but she could swear she could hear the smug smirk on his face.

“I already know where you’re taking me. You’ve kept me away from the garden for two months, I kind of figured out what you were doing.”

“How cunning you are. That’s why I love you.”

She nudged him on what she hoped was his stomach, eliciting a laugh from his side.

“Humour me Zoya, please. What kind of a surprise would it be if I let you see?”

“The kind where you don’t end up being a pile of smoking dust.”

Nikolai laughed again, a crystal-clear sound that made her heart twitch. The threat was not that far from the truth. Nikolai had been entertaining himself way too much with this idiotic courting thing he had decided to pursue. She thought back on when she believed she could have a quiet romance with him. A quiet romance with a man who has a double identity as a privateer and wears a ridiculous teal frock coat. Great thinking, Zoya.

The first hint of how much not quiet Nikolai was going to be had been the absurd deal of public flirting he engaged in, knowing damn well how Zoya was used to propriety. And bitter and ruthless words, at the very best. Not even under torture she would admit how endearing it had been instead; better to keep scolding him. However, as usual, Nikolai saw right through her pretence, caught the gleam of amusement and desire in her eyes. That had only made him become more daring and blatant. Nothing could compare for him to the satisfaction of leaving Zoya speechless. Zoya had tried to match his bold attitude, but she had to admit she was not half as good as him. To this day, he was still rubbing in her face the time where she had almost caused a diplomatic incident due to the shock of his shamelessness. He had just got back from a trip to Ketterdam, right after the coronation. They were waiting at the palace’s gates to meet with the Shu delegation, coming to pay their respect to the recently crowned queen. Nikolai had chosen the moment where their newly acquired allies were emerging from the carriages to lean into her ear to whisper, ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by soldiers and dignitaries, and not just Genya and Alina like last time; Nikolai loved an audience as much as he loved himself.

“I see you’ve resorted back to your kefta”, he had muttered in a casual tone.

Zoya had cut him a quick glare, saying something she would regret later. “Did you like the coronation dress better?”

“Oh no, not at all. If I remember correctly, I suggested you get out of that.” The Shu delegation was getting closer. Nikolai had lowered his voice even more, starting to smile at them. “I stand to my suggestion. There are several outfits I like better on you than a dress. Namely, your kefta, which I'm happy you got back.” She had kept her eyes trained in front of her, ignoring him. “Or the rough spun clothes you use when we are on the Volkvolny.” He had plucked a non-existent dust from his sleeve, keeping the nonchalant attitude of someone who was speaking about the weather. “Your nightdress, the one that looks like a starry night and has a shockingly small amount of fabric.” He had waved a hand in Ehri’s direction, who by that time had been a couple of steps too close to them for Nikolai to keep talking. But the man did have a tendency to risk his life. “But you with nothing on would definitely be in first place.”

Zoya had widened her eyes and a violent rush of blood had tinged her cheeks, while Nikolai had sprinted on to welcome her guests and she stood there like an idiot, trying to catch back her composure. After that, she had quickly understood just how much Nikolai appreciated a challenge. And when he understood just how much Zoya hated to cause a scene, that had been the end for her. At least it seemed like they were alone right now. Better to be safe than sorry, although.

“Nikolai, please at least tell me you’re not about to stage another of your embarrassing public fit.” She asked him now, half pleading and half threatening, as they made their way through the woods.

Nikolai chuckled. “Not this time. And do not lie to me, I know you’ve enjoyed my scenes.”

“I have not.”

“Not even a smidge?”

“You should thank the Saints you’re still breathing after all the stunts you pulled.”

“The Saints and your infinite love for me, I suppose.”

“My love may be infinite, but I assure you my patience is not.”

Zoya tried to keep the smile from her voice, failing miserably. Nikolai had a way to overwhelm her with a now familiar lightness and serenity. Their bickering, his hand in hers, his scent in the air. It all felt like home. So much so that she had found herself subtly pressing on him to get married, eager to have him forever with her. It was a feeling of certainty she wasn’t willing to let go of. It was a treasure she wanted to protect. And she didn’t really care about grand gestures, about big declarations. As far as she was concerned, she could find a ring on her nightstand and they could be married in secret. Nikolai knew that, always seemed to know exactly what kind of attention she needed. He left her his little wire boats everywhere to be found, he concocted small and useless inventions just for the sake of amusing her. He placed hidden notes and drawings in her drawers or under her pillows. He courted her in a way she had never been courted before, dedicating his clever mind to making her feel loved and safe - a task in which he was succeeding brilliantly. 

But the privateer in him came out every now and then. Apart from the flirting, which she could admit she had been enjoying, he had picked up the unnerving habit of pretending to be about to propose to her in the middle of all sorts of gatherings. The first time he had sank down on one knee had been during one of their evenings with the rest of their friends. Everyone had drawn a sharp breath, falling silent and still. But the idiot had simply picked up one of her earrings that had fallen on the floor, winking at her while she narrowed her eyes at him from the upside down. Then he got bolder and bolder. The next time, he had clanked his glass at the end of a state dinner, saying he had a declaration to make for his queen. Zoya had glared at him from her seat, shifting uncomfortably, praying to all the Saints for him to shut up. But the worst had been during the ball they threw last week in honour of some Saint or occurrence she could not even remember. They were dancing, spinning around the ballroom. Nikolai was indeed a very gifted dancer, so she usually let him guide her. It was a strange feeling, the safety of being carried by his arms.

“Your hand is nowhere near the level of propriety, Nikolai”, she had whispered with a playful look, noting the fire on her skin as he had brushed her lower back.

He had smirked. “Let them envy me. I’m dancing with the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

“The one that’s going to step on your foot if you don’t behave yourself.”

Nikolai had nudged her closer, skimming his lips on her jaw. “Want to give them something else to watch?” And then, without preamble, he had kneeled in front of her, right in the middle of the ballroom, holding one of her hands in his. The music had stopped, the room had been filled with ecstatic murmurs. Zoya had caught Genya giggling on the other side of the room, but she could only hear her heart thrumming in her chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

One beat had passed. Two beats, and that delicious grin of his had erupted on Nikolai’s face. He had cleared his throat and turned to the people assembled around them.

“Pardon me for the interruption, but I believe it’s time for the Queen to give her speech!” He had joyfully declared, getting back up on his feet. She had looped her arm on his, seething under her breath.

“I am going to smite you where you stand.”

From that moment on, every time he had tried to garner the attention in public endeavours, she had been terrified to see him cause another scene. Deep down, Zoya knew he was not going to ask her like this. He was way too much of a romantic soul to do this. Sure enough though, he was immensely enjoying himself. She supposed she could let him have his fun. As long as she was his, and he was hers, she didn’t really care how many times he would embarrass her. There was nothing on earth that could compare to the feeling of seeing him beaming with happiness. Not even the dragon, in all his lifetimes, had known a warmth like this. Zoya loved him enough to let him have his way at times.

The creak of the garden door distracted her from her thoughts. Finally, Nikolai stopped. She heard him move behind her and place his hands on her hips, while his lips brushed on the skin of her neck. 

“You can look now.”

He murmured against her skin. Was she imagining the slight tremble of emotion in his voice? He sounded thrilled, nervous. Slowly, she pulled the cloth from her eyes, caught back by the light that was flooding the place. Whatever she had thought she was going to see, it was nothing compared to what Nikolai had built. The breath was knocked out of her lungs, the beating of her heart racing up like it was about to take flight. It was her garden, but it was so much more. The structure Nikolai had designed was an engineering marvel of glass and wrought iron, twisting toward the sky, looking like the dome of a chapel. A perfect combination of his brilliance and a most expert Fabrikator’s craft. The whole building was transparent; Zoya could see the sky beyond, the clouds, the ray of sun warming up the place and shattering through the glass in a rainbow of colours. The flowers hadn’t been touched; new pots had been placed, new space to fill. The thorn wood still ran on the sides, around the bricks and the lanterns. But the wall had been painted with every sort of wonder; there was a dragon roaring through the sky, a ship that looked like the Volkvolny sealing a storm-swept sea, with a two-star flag added to Sturmhond’s one. A fox emerged from the bushes on the wall nearer to the door. The Grisha colours and symbols were all over the place, a flash of blue, red, and purple blossoms; waves, fire and lightnings ran throughout the murals. 

“Alina painted them.” 

Explained Nikolai, whispering softly when he noticed she was looking at the walls. Zoya took two steps in front of her, tilting her head up. There weren’t words she possessed right enough for this moment, none of the languages she knew was fit to describe this. The wrought iron was shaped like quince and gusts of wind that towered over the place in a million branches, spreading on the lines of the glass dome.

“Every panel of glass can be opened in the summer. They’re closed now, so that the heat stays in and the flowers can blossom in every season.”

Nikolai’s voice was still soft, still stumbling a little, like he was holding his breath to wait for her reaction. He had poured all of himself into this extraordinary building. This is what love does. If only Lilyiana could see her now. If she could see what she had found. Let love pour through, my little girl. Let your golden hero carry you home. You are safe. Zoya was shaking. Breathing was hard. She turned to him, feeling a suspicious prickle behind her eyes. Nikolai had once again got down on his knee amidst her wildflowers; she caught the sparkle of a jewel in his hand. Zoya smiled, too stricken with emotions to concentrate on anything that wasn't him.

“I hope it’s the last time you kneel to me.” Zoya tried to muster some wit, but her voice came out croaked, her throat sore. Nikolai was undoing her.

“Do shut up, Your Highness. I believe it’s my turn to speak.” The too-clever fox smirked, a clear and expectant look in his gleaming hazel eyes. “I had a speech - honestly it’s hard to remember it right now.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, and I’ve been believing for so long that there wasn’t a future for us, that it seemed impossible to have this.”

He opened his mouth again, clearly about to correct himself, but Zoya was quicker. “Improbable”, she added, unable to restrain herself. Another smirk curled his lips.

“Improbable”, he conceded, immensely satisfied that she had picked up on his favourite line. “I know I’ve kept you waiting. I would have asked the first time you kissed me. I would have asked that night in the cargo hold. But I said something else that night, something I wanted to live up to.”

Zoya watched him carefully, trying to see through him, to wrap her head around what was happening. She felt like her heart was about to burst in her chest.

“There were things I wanted to do before asking you. I wanted to gift you something ill-suited for war, something precious. That’s why I built this.” He gestured to the structure around them. “Because your garden need not be just a monument to grief anymore, but one to life. To the way you make everything around you blossom.” Nikolai paused, his gaze intense and fierce on her. “And then there were other things I told you I would have done for you, once I could.”

“You wanted to give me a crown.” Zoya said, with surprise in her voice. She had started to figure out where he was going with this, had started to grasp his words from the memory of that night, carved inside her. 

“That was the first thing. I believe it worked splendidly. What else did I tell you?”

“You wanted to show me the world from the prow of your ship.” 

She brought her fingers to her lips, as if she could not believe her own realization. Her voice was trembling too, now. She remembered. She remembered when Nikolai had insisted they took a couple of days at sea, during their mission in Os Kervo. Zoya knew Nikolai wanted to travel with her, but they simply had not had the time to do it properly. Zoya had promised him they would, someday, when peace was secured. Nikolai had pressed her on that trip to sail on the Volkvolny, even for a little while. She had not questioned him, thought he was only being nonsensical as usual and had obliged him. He had told her something, on the railing of the ship, as the sun was setting in front of them. That’s why I like the sea, he had said to her, because when you look out at the horizon, you see everything beyond. Look, Zoya. You can see the whole world from here. It’s all ours for the taking. She had laughed, tilting her head to the sun. You gave me Ravka, Nikolai. It’s enough for me. She had been wrong. Nikolai had not just given her Ravka. Here, in the silence of her garden, she knew he was giving her so much more. 

“And then there was one last thing.” Nikolai encouraged her. Zoya drew a sharp breath, catching the ring in his hand into focus. 

“You wanted to give me a sapphire, the size of an acorn.”

Nikolai took her hand and placed the ring in it. The band was made of white gold, in the shape of a dragon curled around itself. Between its tail and its head, it held a glowing sapphire, the colour of a midnight sky. She peered at him under her lashes, too overwhelmed to say anything. His hands were shivering.

“I know it’s not the size of an acorn. We are still slightly broke, and, well - I thought you would have liked it better like this. It’s more elegant, it suits you more.”

Silence enveloped them. Zoya felt his warm uneven breathing on her skin, his nervousness, the sheer truth and love behind his actions taking her like a tide, filling the well inside her that had once protected her grief and caged her heart.

“I wanted you to understand that I’ll always be true to my promises. I don’t know when I started loving you, but I know I’m lost now. I searched for you for a lifetime. I still want you all the time. I want to lay beside you every night, wake up with you in my arms every morning. I want to build the future with you, I want to watch you scowl at people and be the brave and ruthless leader you are.” Nikolai inhaled a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “You've been my general. You are my friend, the woman I love. I would have chosen you before, I would now and I always will. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?”

Zoya didn’t try to hold back the tears. It didn’t matter. It didn’t because she had never felt safer in her life than she was feeling now, held in the dome that protected her garden, in the hands of the man that had always protected her. What he was telling her now, it had an echo to so many other things he had told her in the past, scattered throughout the moments they had shared. It told the story of how they took care of each other for so long, of their longing, of their strength. How they had found each other at last. She gently kneeled in front of him, folding her hand over the one that was holding the ring. All around them, the flowers had sprouted, their scent clouding them. She placed the other hand on his cheek, locking their eyes together. It took all her might to find her voice within the emotions swimming in her chest. Zoya had never been sentimental like him. She had never tried to be, maybe she could never be. Yet, she wanted him to know now; to know even a fraction of how much her love for him ran deep in her veins.  

“You made me believe that impossible really is just a word.” She tried, wavering, gaining more confidence with each word she brought out. “You made me believe again, Nikolai. You are the hero of every story I have ever heard. And yes, I’ll marry you.”

He opened in an astonishing expression of relief, leaning in her touch. Nikolai slipped the ring on her finger, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Turns out you can be romantic too, when you want to.” He teased, getting up and bringing her with him, circling her in his arms. As she leaned on his chest, she heard the rhythmic pounding of his heart, quick as the flapping of a bird’s wings. 

“It’s hardly a match between the two of us. I know how much you enjoy it, so I let you take all the credit.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop kneeling in front of crowds?” 

“I think so. I will not stop with the flirting, though. It’s a compulsion.” 

Zoya went on her toes to press a kiss on his mouth. 

“Do keep up with that. I like it.”

She tucked her hand into his pocket, closing her fingers on the blue ribbon he kept on him all the time. Zoya pulled it out, unfurling it in front of them. 

“I believe I’ll need this for the wedding day.”

The smile that lightened up his face was worth a thousand wars to wage. A thousand years to wait. 

 ***

To say that the wedding was grand, would have been an understatement. Genya had outdid herself, both with the decorations and the dress. If Zoya had thought she had made a great work with the coronation, what she had managed to create on this day put everything else to shame. Zoya didn’t remember much of it. It had been a whirlwind of colours and voices, people kissing her hand and offering their congratulations, dancing, and music and mostly a lot of drinking on their part. The ceremony had been long and complicated, but as usual, Nikolai had made everything more bearable. Somehow, he had managed to make her feel like they were the only two people standing in the chapel, the same one that held such awful memories and was now a place of celebration. 

She had chosen not to wear gold, and they all went with it. Once had been enough; silver was more fitting for a dragon queen that commanded the storm. Being a queen had its advantages in terms of breaking with traditions. Nikolai had walked the aisle with her; he had never left her side, he had never left the grip on her hand. Zoya could feel his intense desire to make this day joyful for her. She would never stop marvelling at his selflessness, at how good and pure his heart was. To her surprise, he had chosen to relent the traditional Ravkan wedding vows in favour of the ones spoken by Grisha. They applied a lot more to them than any other oath they could make.

We are soldiers. I will march with you in times of war. I will rest with you in times of peace. I will forever be the weapon in your hand, the fighter at your side, the friend who awaits your return. I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world and there is no one more fierce, passionate, and unbreakable.

There was not much else to say; everything they needed to tell each other, they had already done in the quiet of their intimacy. Everything they needed to share about what it meant to have each other, they already knew. But Nikolai had added something, lowering his voice to a whisper, only for her to hear. 

I will always seek to make it summer for you.

He had spoken the words in Suli. A ridiculous Suli, with an accent as thick as Zoya’s one and probably quite the number of mistakes. Zoya didn’t care. She didn’t know much Suli either, but she had understood. She had felt the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless, all these people be damned. Instead, she had murmured her answer to him, searching in her childhood for the words, hoping his knowledge of the language was broader than hers.

You are my endless summer. 

Nikolai’s eyes had sparkled, his lips trembled when he had kissed her, knocking her off his feet, and she knew he had understood too. The first half of the party had been slightly tedious. Her dress was heavy, the crown hitched on her head. But as the night went on and the brandy had started to flow, she had found she was enjoying herself much more than she thought. Nikolai’s presence glowed in the room, equally as handsome as her. It was well past midnight when people had started retiring, saying their goodbyes to the newly wed royal couple.

At last, they found themselves alone at a table with all their friends. Tolya was astoundingly drunk, much to their amusement. He was trying to convince Adrik to stand on a chair and recite some poetry with him. Adrik, who was incredibly smiling, seated next to Leoni who wore her usual thousand sun merry expression. Adrik had taken Zoya’s position in the Triumvirate, while Leoni held the post for the Materialki now. She and Genya were deep in an argument about some sort of poison used to make people sleepwalk. Genya was laughing, her head thrown back, a glass of honey tea in her hand. Seeing her happy was a sight for sore eyes. Zoya knew they were all missing David more tonight; her eyes wandered on her friend’s kefta, which stood a little too tight around her stomach. The bump was starting to show clearly right now, four months into the pregnancy. She was beaming. It takes a village, people said about raising a child. This child would definitely never be alone. Alina and Mal had retired earlier, eager to return to their kids. She had held Alina in an embrace a little longer than usual, trying to convey how wonderful her gift to Zoya had been, how much comfort the paintings in her garden would bring. In the middle of the room, Tamar and Nadia were still dancing, or trying to at least, missing every rhythm of the music. Tamar stopped abruptly when she saw Zoya watching them. 

“I can’t believe you two pulled it off, at last!” She made a toast in their direction, making Nadia stumble. 

“I can’t believe Nikolai pulled it off”, Genya smirked, toasting back to Tamar with her tea. 

Nikolai shrugged his shoulders. “I’m known for always choosing the hardest quest.” 

There was little hope to ever make them stop with the teasing. Turning her gaze, Zoya caught sight of Nina and her prince, who had traveled all the way from Fjerda to be here tonight. Nina was stunning as usual, in a dress that hugged every curve of her, stacking on a pile of pastries and forcing Hanne to taste each and every one of them. The reckless Heartrender didn’t miss the chance to weigh in on the conversation, popping a pastry in her mouth. “And to think Zoya was the one to bash me about falling in love with Fjerdans. It backfired right in your face.”

Zoya clicked her tongue. “At least I take care not to let people walk in on us having a private moment.”

“That’s on you”, Nina grinned, “But I guess now you know that the thing about Fjerdans being cold it’s just a myth.” 

“Definitely a myth", confirmed Nikolai, winking at Nina. Leave it to the two of them to be inappropriate.

Tolya downed another glass of whisky. For a giant, he didn’t have a good resistance to alcohol. “Good luck Zoya, he’s all yours to suffer now.” He managed to mutter. “At least he’s not moping around about you anymore like a lost puppy.” Tolya, the most respectful soldier she knew. He really was drunk. 

“I’ll still mop around about her, don’t worry.”

“I can manage, I think", Zoya answered to Tolya, curling her lips. 

She sighed happily, tightening the hold on Nikolai’s hand next to her, while she watched the people who were now her family filling the air with their laughter. He put the glass down, gazing at her with amusement. His golden hair were ruffled, his elegant shirt crumpled, his skin heated. His eyes were filled with awe, a smile dancing on his lips. She felt her breath itch at the sight of him. Nikolai leaned closer to her, bringing her hand up to his mouth. His look turned soft, affectionate.

“You survived today wonderfully.”

Zoya fell silent, watching her golden boy. This is what love does. You fight for it, and it saves you. You build it, brick by brick, and it stays. The dragon spread his wings inside her. 

“You built me a home.” 

She told him, and cocked her head to the side, making some strands of hair fall from the elaborate updo Genya had weaved. Nikolai rushed to tuck them back into the ribbon that held them in place, the one she had taken from his pocket when he had proposed. 

“You gave me something to build it for. Someone to fill it with.”

Zoya knew, in that moment. She knew that every blow, every pain, every loneliness she had endured had been meant to take her here. It had been meant to make her worthy of him, to make her believe they could have this. She knew every loss and every battle had forged her so that she could let herself love him. And Nikolai made everything possible. The weight of his hand in hers felt sacred. 

“We will go on, you and I. We are going to be fine.” 

It wasn’t a question. It was the strongest belief she had ever had. It was hope. After an eternity of fighting and suffering, the stone tumbled inside her, coming to rest. Nikolai nodded, closing his eyes and sighing. The world felt easier. It felt warm, and sunny, full of his light.

“Yes, we are.”

And they would. For years to come, they would be fine.

[dalekofchaos]

If Vader raised Luke and Obi-Wan trained Leia

Let’s say sometime after Mustafar. Darth Vader in his meditation in his castle, Vader felt a presence he hasn’t felt since.....Padme. Since he felt his unborn child through the force. His child is alive. Sidious lied. The Jedi took his son from him. They will all pay. So here is what would happen if Vader sensed, found and raised Luke. 

Darth Vader would’ve killed Owen and Beru instantly and burned the Lars homestead

Obi-Wan would rush to face Vader. Vader would overpower Obi-Wan, mortally wound him and throw him into the burning homestead and use the force to crush the roof onto an unconscious Obi-Wan 

Darth Vader would hold a baby Luke in his hands and  for some reason Luke is not afraid, but drawn to this dark figure. 

Vader would simply say “Luke. Son...”

Vader takes Luke to his castle on Mustafar

Obi-Wan would crawl out of the remains of the Lars Homestead. Injured, but alive. Obi-Wan failed. He contacted Yoda and told him Vader found and took Luke. Yoda will simply tell him “There is another.” All he can do is call Bail for transport to Alderaan. He failed Luke, but he will not fail Leia. 

Bail and Breha would teach Leia about politics and Obi-Wan would train Leia to become a Jedi

Luke would spend his entire childhood to adulthood in the depths of Fortress Vader. Training and submerging himself in the dark side of the force. 

Vader would indoctrinate his son into hating the Jedi. Hating The Emperor and instructing his son that only together could they destroy The Emperor and the last of the Jedi.

By the events of Rogue One/A New Hope. Luke’s training would be complete. “You were weak when I found you. Now your hatred has become your strength. At last the dark side is your ally. Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Zhoun. Rise, my son.”  Source 1. Source 2

Luke would be Vader’s assassin. Carrying out assassinations in the name of the Empire. Killing the last of the Jedi. Enemies of The Empire. His identity is unknown to the Emperor and Rebellion, but his reputation would strike fear in the Rebel Alliance. He is simply known as “Vader’s Shadow.”

Palpatine feels a disturbance in the force, but for some reason, he cannot detect Luke. All he can sense is “a shadow”

Luke fully embraced the dark side and is consumed by it. When Master Shaak Ti tries to turn him away from his path, before killing her(What is this her 5th death????) Luke will say “My father’s fate is my own.”

Vader’s final test for his son would be to pit him against his old Padawan. Luke kills Maul with ease as he decapitates him. Luke uses Ahsoka’s need to save her friends against her and when she attempts to save them, Luke cuts Ahsoka down. 

Thrawn would request the aid of Vader, in his stead, Vader once again sends his son. Luke would kill Ezra and save Thrawn. “Lord Vader has need of you, Grand Admiral. Set up the TIE Defenders program in the Unknown Regions and return with a fleet of them.” Thrawn would call off the fleet and let Lord Zhoun deal with the Rebels. Luke would then slaughter the Rebels on Lothal

Sometime after securing Thrawn’s victory on Lothal, as a gift. Thrawn has given Vader and Luke their own personal TIE Defenders. 

Vader and Zhoun would slaughter Cal and Cere. The Holocron is theirs. 

The existence of Darth Zhoun would only be known to Vader, Admiral Piett and General Veers.(you’ll see why)

Leia had a decade of training. On Alderaan and on Dagobah. Yoda and Obi-Wan together completed Leia’s training. Leia is now a fully fledged Jedi Knight and is ready to lead the Rebellion and confront her father and brother.  art source

Yoda and Obi-Wan would tell Leia the truth. Darth Vader is her father and his secret assassin is her brother, Luke. Due to a decade of training, Leia would prove strong and wise enough to learn the truth of her family.

Also Leia would ask about her mother. “Tell me, what was my mother like, my real mother.” “Your mother was Padme Amidala, a senator, queen and a kind and beautiful..” “Strong, was your mother. Believed in peace and diplomacy did she.” “And my father? Was he always Vader?” “Your mother loved your father. Anakin Skywalker was a good man. But he was consumed to stop the people he loved from dying. His mother was killed by the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine and the Emperor seized the opportunity to turn your father to the dark side. One day, your father was plagued by nightmares of Padme dying in childbirth, The Emperor promised him the power to save your mother, but in doing so Anakin became twisted by the dark side and became Darth Vader.” 

Leia believes her family could be turned. Obi-Wan would object. He's more machine now than man. Twisted and evil.” When insisting that Luke could be saved. Obi-Wan would be remorseful. “I failed my duty to save Luke, I should have followed Vader and staged a rescue, but you needed to be trained, you were our only hope.” 

Leia would be contacted by Bail requesting aid on Scarif. Yoda gives his blessing for Leia to go. Saying Ready to reveal herself to the galaxy, she is. Obi-Wan would join her as he must confront Vader one last time.

Leia and Obi-Wan get there just in time and they save the Rogue One Crew. Jyn personally gives Leia the plans. Obi-Wan tells her. “What is it?” All Leia can tell her master is “Hope.”

Leia would transmit the plans to the Tantive IV where her father would be there to receive the plans.

Vader and Luke board the ship to slaughter the rebels. Before they can get the Death Star plans back. They are confronted by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Leia. 

Darth Vader and Obi-Wan would duel similar to how they did in ANH aboard the ship. Leia and Obi-Wan are in desperate need to escape

Leia is able to defensively take down her brother, Obi-Wan momentarily stuns Vader and they escape with the plans.

As The Tantive IV is boarded, Leia and Obi-Wan are able to evade detection and hide in the escape pods with C-3PO and R2-D2

In place of Leia captured by the Empire, it is Bail Organa. Bail gives the plans to his daughter and pleads with Leia to leave with Master Kenobi. 

Leia and the droids wander Tatooine for a long walk. All Leia can think is “so much sand. so much fucking sand.”

Leia would store the plans in R2. Just in case something happens.

Leia is guided by Obi-Wan. “We must find passage to save Bail.”

Leia and Obi-Wan finds Mos Eisley Cantina and there they meet Han and Chewie. Leia asks for passage to Alderaan for herself and her droids no questions asked. “Is it a fast ship?” “Fast ship? You’ve never heard of The Millennium Falcon? It's the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs! I've outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you.” All Leia can do is roll her eyes and takes Han’s word for it. Leia tells her “Once we get to Alderaan, my father Senator Organa will pay you handsomely. Say 15,000 credits?” Han just smiles that cocky Solo smile and says “you got yourself a deal princess”

Once Leia sees the Falcon. “You fly in that thing? You’re braver than I thought.” Han retorts “She'll make point five past lightspeed. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, Princess. I've made a lot of special modifications myself.”

Leia and Han bicker like an old married couple and Chewie just decided “that’s it I ship it” Obi-Wan would see the writing on the walls. “Oh, this is like watching me and Satine” 

Bail watches the destruction of Alderaan

Leia would convince Han to help her free her father. Han is hesitant, but Leia will insist “my father will be very grateful, I’m sure we can triple the rewar-” Han would say so quickly “DONE!”

Han and Leia are pretty much battle couple goals while taking down Stormtroopers and Imperial Officers in the detention center.

Leia saves her father and embraces him in a hug.

Vader and Obi-Wan duels and Obi-Wan sacrifices himself to save Leia and Bail

Bail is forever in Han’s debt. He saved his life and his daughter’s life. He will pay Han anything. Being indebted to a Hutt is no way to live a life. He pays Han what he’s owed, but asks if he can join the Rebellion after clearing the debt as the Rebellion is in dire need of good pilots. Chewie is all for it, but Han is having none of it, but looks at Leia and says “I’m not saying yes, Senator, but...maybe.” Bail sees that he’s looking at Leia and says “I see” and knows he fancies his daughter.

Leia would fly in her personal Jedi X-wing Starfighter(Just imagine a mix between Anakin’s Jedi Starfighter and an X-Wing) during the Battle Of Yavin IV Leia’s hypothetical ship would look like this(source) but realistically it would be colored blue and white

Han would make the save and Leia would destroy the Death Star(btw Han now will not shut up that he saved Leia, ya know in a way, princess I helped destroyed the Death Star. I saved you from Vader and gave you the confidence you needed to destroy the Death Star. Sometimes I amaze even myself. Leia rolls her eyes and smiles...and blushes. Bail notices this and is happy his daughter is in love but knows she will never admit it) 

Leia would be knocked out and captured by a Wampa. Leia defeats it.

Han would save Leia. “Don’t worry, your worship I’ll save you.” Leia now wishes for death, he would not stop bringing up saving her during the Death Star, but now she owes him twice. Is the force punishing her?

Darth Vader and Darth Zhoun are on the hunt for the Jedi Princess. 

Bail requests Leia and Han to bring Master Yoda back into the fight. 

When Han and Leia escape. Bail stays behind. Darth Vader kills him and Leia feels the loss of Bail and breaks down. 

Instead of bickering and bantering, Han comforts Leia. Leia embraces Han in a hug and a kiss. Leia lets him in.

Leia and Han make it to Dagobah. Leia is very patient with her old master, but Han thinks he should be bigger. “This is Yoda?” Leia confirms and Chewie says so as well an goes “and how would you know that???” “I fought in the Clone Wars, Han” “Well, what do you want, a medal???”

Chewie would embrace Yoda in a hug. Yoda would warmly greet his old friend. “Chewbacca, missed you I did.”

Leia and Han asks Yoda to return to aid the Rebel Alliance. He doesn't have to fight but advise the leaders as what they must do. Yoda is willing, but first he must complete Leia’s training. With this, Leia tells Han to go and pay off Jabba’s debt. and kisses Han goodbye. Han says “When you’re done, meet me on Bespin, I’m going to see an old friend.”

Meanwhile aboard the Executer, Vader and Luke set in motion the plan to destroy The Emperor. Everyone aboard The Executer, especially Admiral Piett and General Veers are loyal to Vader and his son. The Emperor lies in his throne in the safety of the Imperial city, while Lord Vader is a man of action who fights on the front lines with his soldiers. They will stand by Lord Vader and his son, soon more will follow. 

Vader’s call with The Emperor happens as same, but Palpatine says “We have a new enemy. There is a great disturbance in the force. The Rebel Princess who destroyed the Death Star.” “She is just a girl, Obi-Wan and her father can no longer help her. “I have a feeling she is the daughter of Anakin Skywalker.” “How is this possible?” “Search your feelings Lord Vader, you know it to be true.” “If she can be turned, she can be a powerful ally.” “Yes...can it be done Lord Vader? “She will join us or die.”

Vader internally is pissed, but also pleased. Vader tells his son. “A Twin Sister, you have a twin sister. If she can be turned, we will destroy The Emperor and rule the galaxy as a family.” “What if my sister doesn’t join us?” “Then she will die. 

Leia’s training is complete. Yoda dubs Leia the rank of Jedi Master. Leia senses Han is in danger. Yoda tells her to go. “Be here, I shall be. May the force be with you, Master Leia.”

Despite paying off his debt to Jabba, Vader still intends to test Han Solo into carbonite freezing him. And Jabba would be overjoyed to have Han as a decoration. 

Vader orders Luke to bring his sister in the fold or kill her. “As you wish, father.”

Leia is too late. She sees Han frozen in carbonite. 

Leia feels the presence of her brother. They duel and they evenly matched. One wrong move and the fight is over. Luke cuts Leia’s hand off and asks his sister to join him and his father. Leia defiantly refuses. “Vader killed my master and my true father, I’LL NEVER JOIN YOU!” “The Jedi betrayed our father. turned our mother against him and had us separated, luckily he found me and rescued me. With our combined strength, we can destroy the Emperor and bring order to the galaxy as a family.” Leia refuses and falls..

Thanks to Yoda guiding Lando and Chewie, they find her just in time.

Despite not having Leia, Vader and Luke has everything they need to pull a coup on The Emperor

Vader has his son. Admiral Piett. Grand Admiral Thrawn. The Death Squadron. Death Troopers. A legion of TIE Defenders and more and more are drawn to Vader. Vader and Zhoun make their attack on Coruscant. 

Darth Vader and Darth Zhoun face Palpatine. The Throne room is lit up with force lightning and crimson blades. The battle is powerful and raw, but ultimately Luke and Vader overpower The Emperor. There is nowhere where Palpatine can escape to. Not Exegol or anywhere. Vader decapitates his old master. 

Vader broadcasts to the galaxy. “The Emperor is dead. I am now your Emperor. Those who serve me and my son, you will achieve greatness as we bring order to the galaxy. Those who stay loyal to The Emperor, die.” There would be a small civil war, but eventually all those who stayed loyal to Palpatine would be rounded up and killed.

Leia rescues Han. Leia does not resort to allowing herself to be captured. Nor does Leia need to be forced to wear that slave outfit. Leia gives Jabba one chance to free Han. Jabba refuses and since a Jedi would be impossible to be enslaved, he plans to feed Leia to his pet Rancor. That would be Jabba’s undoing. Leia would use animal bond/beast control on the Rancor and successfully tames the beast. After Leia convinces the Rancor to help her, Leia unleashes the beast on Jabba and his men Source

Leia unfreezes Han, rescues Chewie, Lando and the droids. 

In addition to rescuing Han, Leia also rescues Oola and all the slaves in Jabba’s palace.

Leia and Han would fight Boba Fett. With Boba Fett at their mercy, Leia decides to save him. Leia thinking “he could be so much more.” Han makes the decision to save him.  Han and Boba Fett finally bury their rivalry and leave it in the past and shake hands. Boba would declare that Han’s bounty will no longer exists and he won’t chased by him and exits the story. This would work because it would show that Han has grown from the rogue who would shot a man dead without question in ANH to someone who is willing to find an alternate solution to his problems. It’d also give some layers to Boba Fett of being a man of honor.

Yoda dies, but tells her that she is the only hope in saving her brother and stopping Vader. 

With Vader as Emperor, he has no intentions with building a second Death Star. Instead he intends to wipe out the Rebellion from the face of the galaxy. 

Luke feels a pull to the light. After a life of darkness and evil, Luke feels remorse. He sees what his father as Emperor is doing is wrong and if he feels these feelings, it’s all over. 

The Rebellion plans to make one last ditch effort to end the Empire once and for all. A Coup. The battle on the ground would now take place in the Imperial City and the area surrounding the Imperial Palace. The dogfights between X-Wings and TIE Fighters would take place in the skies above instead of in space. The confrontation between Leia,  Luke and Vader and would take place in the Imperial Palace in The Emperor's Throne Room.

Leia would contact Luke in order to get close to the palace.

Leia feels the conflict within her brother. Luke is trying to keep her out. Eventually Leia gets in and pleads with her brother to help him destroy Vader. But Luke takes her before Vader

Vader taunts Leia that the Rebellion will die today, but they can all be saved if she gives in to the dark side and joins her family

Vader forces Luke and Leia to fight to the death. Only one can serve him. Leia refuses to join him, but Vader and Luke are not giving her a choice. 

Leia and Luke’s duel is a mix between Anakin/Obi-Wan and Vader/Luke in terms of how the fight would go. In the end. Neither Luke nor Leia can kill the other. They both deactivate their lightsabers and embrace in a hug. For the first time in a long time, Luke’s yellow eyes turn blue. This ignites the wrath of their father. 

Vader force chokes both his children with full intentions of killing them. The only thing that can save them? Leia remembers on what Obi-Wan spoke about her mother. “Our mother was Padme Amidala.” Vader is stunned and enraged by the mere mention of her name. All Vader can say is “Do. Not. Say. Her. Name.” 

Vader ignites his lightsaber preparing to kill. While Luke and Leia are ready to defend themselves. Luke lands a strike that is similar to Ahsoka’s where Vader’s face is visibly seen

With Vader down. Leia continues to speak about her mother. “She was kind and beautiful. You were deceived and betrayed by The Emperor. He turned you from the most compassionate Jedi Knight to ever live into a dark lord. You do not have to be this way. You are free. You and Luke are free. Padme loved you. Obi-Wan loved you. You are Anakin Skywalker, our father. Call off the fleet and let us bring peace to the galaxy as a family.”

Anakin concedes to his children. 

The war is over. The Empire has ended. Vader agrees to whatever punishment the Rebellion has for him. 

Leia is in charge of Luke. Leia helps Luke on his path of atonement. 

Vader is sentenced for execution. His final request. “Let me see my children one last time.” Leia and Luke are saddened, but Anakin assures his children he has made peace with his fate. His final request from his children is to take his mask off. “ Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes.”

[mariamermaid]

Best Fake Smile

Neville Longbottom x fem!Slytherin Reader

Summary: After yet another set of detention, you come face to face with the shy Gryffindor student Neville Longbottom. But as you are doomed to clean the pots for the herb class, Neville catches you off guard…

Words: 2.2k

A/N: slightly inspired by the song “best fake smile” from James Bay

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

 Staring blankly at McGonagall’s long and stern face, you bit down on your lip. Maybe putting a hex on a student, a class above you wasn´t the smartest move.

The old witch shook her head, realizing you were barely listening anyway.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, you´re going to help Professor Sprout with cleaning up the pots for the coming classes, I don´t have time to bother giving attention to you yet again.”

Her harsh words drew you back into the present and slightly taken back, you nod without another word. There was no use in dispute.

Friday night, and you were spending it cleaning dirt off pots while your friends enjoyed their evening at Hogsmead. You huffed annoyed at yourself as you drifted to the greenhouses. At least you wouldn´t miss the Slytherin Quidditch game tomorrow and as a fellow Slytherin student, you hoped for a victory. Mostly because the parties afterwards were known to be legendary and drowning some of your thoughts in fire whiskey seemed all too welcoming right now.

To your surprise, the light in the greenhouse was still on and you caught a glance of a certain Gryffindor student.

“Longbottom”, your voice cut like glass through the air and Neville jerked, his head turning towards you.

“What did you do to end up here?” You asked further strolling through the rows of plants until reaching the pile of pots, where Neville already stood. The change in his appearance was hard to miss, even for you. Once crooked teeth and slacking posture had disappeared from the Gryffindor boy, he was also taller than you for the first time. Unlike other Slytherin students, Draco for example, you found no interest in the bickering with other students just for the sake of it. It was the reason why you had practically nothing to do with Neville, he was off your grid.

Even though his grown attractiveness was admiring, he seemed nervous around you.

Truth was, he didn´t do anything. Neville had chosen this task out of his love towards plants, not as a punishment. But he didn´t have the guts in telling you so. Instead, he shrugged, avoiding your glance again and continued cleaning.

“Missed curfew”, he lied. You nodded while raising your eyebrow.

You were known to get detention for causing much bigger troubles; hexing students classes above you, as well as relief teachers, missing curfews, sneaking out, spiking punch, prank wars with the Weasley twins and sometimes getting caught making out after Slytherin´s victory parties.

“Let´s get it over with, hm?” You sighed and grabbed something to help clean as well.

For several minutes you both stayed quiet, focusing on dividing the work.

Just as you were to grab another pot, Neville reached for it as well. His hand brushed against yours, warm and earthy, but quickly pulled back. The pot fell down to the floor and the crashing pieces made you wince.

“Sorry”, you both apologized at the same time, while leaning down to get the broken pieces.

“Don´t be sorry, it was my fault really”, Neville admitted hastily and you couldn´t help but stare at him.

“Such a gentlemen”, you muttered and Neville´s eyes lurked up to you. For once, he didn´t overthink and his tongue was quick to answer.

“Probably not used to it after Zabini.”

A huff escaped your lips. You hadn´t expected for him to drop a comment like this. But you found interest in Neville´s new, more daring side.

“Excuse you?”

Neville, instantly regretting his words, shrugged reluctant. “It´s just talk.”

“Talk? From who?” Your words were firm, Neville had taken a direction without being able to reverse.

“Just rumors going around, thought you and him are a thing.”

You growled, rolling your eyes and as much as Neville was scared, he was also curious in your answer.

“I don´t know what kind of dung brains tell you stories like that, but Blaise and I aren´t a thing! If you run across the person telling false rumors, you can tell me their names!”

You were clearly angry, but also a flustered. Neville watched your reaction closely, as he did so often in your shared classes. Truth was; he was head over heels in love with you. However, until this fateful evening, he never even thought in approaching you.  

“Just because we made out once or twice, by Merlin´s beard!”

His heart sunk from his head into his stomach and he felt his shoulders dropping. But he kept going in order to save himself from any embarrassments. “So, he´s not my boyfriend?”

You let out a laugh and Neville listened to the light sound of your voice. You didn´t laugh much, at least not in class. You grinned or snickered when you whispered with Pansy, but never an honest laugh. It made you seem way less intimidating, at least in Neville´s opinion.

“Blaise my boyfriend? Never. Just because they won at a Quidditch game and I had too much punch. He´s all bark no bite. What about you though?”

He was caught off guard by your question, which made you chuckle softly. “Me?”

“Yes, you Mister I had a glow-up over the summer holidays!”

He blushed, had you just complimented him? Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck, making you take notice of his strengthened arms and broader shoulders.

“Didn´t you dance with Ginny Weasley at the Yule ball?”

“The yule ball is long gone.” He explained and you nodded understanding.

“But as if your Gryffindor girls didn´t notice your change in appearance?” You asked lurking while leaning over the table. Neville shrugged. Yes, he had comments, but no girl had ever approached him. It was something he could only dream of. He might have changed on the outside, but on his inside, he still felt like the slender boy.

“Maybe you should ask someone out!” You exclaimed instead and his eyes traveled from the table filled with dirt and old roots, to your eyes. Your grin slightly dropped as he continued to stare at you directly and breathing calmly, until his gaze wandered to your lips.

Tilting your head ever so slightly to the side, your playful grin returned. What was happening?

“What makes you think I´d go out with you?”

It took all of his and Merlin´s bravery to answer as confidently as possible, while leaning forward as well.

“Maybe you´d enjoy not having to carry your act and not wearing that fake smile of yours.”

The corners of your mouth dropped immediately.

You liked to play, but there were these moments, standing still between time and reality, where you felt a hole in your heart.

Lonely, you felt lonely more often than anyone could´ve imagine, but no one ever seemed to care enough. Meaningless make out sessions only filled that void for short periods of time.

Your expression hardened and you pulled back, your hands hugging your side. The feeling of someone getting so close and personal felt new and you didn´t like vulnerability.

Slytherin, pure-blooded with a rich family; you were raised to act strong and independent, at the same time upstage. Your family was picture perfect in that very sense, but you craved the feeling of warmth and safety.

“What makes you think I´m faking?”

It was Neville´s time to chuckle, it was so absurdly easy to tell for him.

“Why should I tell you their names?” He asked instead, but your back was still facing his direction.

“Why does the cold-hearted Slytherin girl even care? No, you don't have to wear your best fake smile. Not with me. It´s just me after all.”

Silence settled, you felt your heavy breathing and the burning inside your stomach. The worst of all? Neville was right. And even though, he barely knew you, he could see behind the façade. Bitter taste spread in your mouth, slowly running down your throat into your stomach.

“I´m sorry, I had no right to say that.”

You spun around, facing the tall brown-haired boy again. He saw your teary eyes and your shivering body. He had struck a delicate chord, that he didn´t know the existence of.

Yet, you weren´t able to form any words. Neville cleared his throat, taking off the gloves and making his way towards the door.

“I think, you might need some time for yourself.”

You wanted to protest, stepping closer to him.

“You can´t leave me, what about our punishment?”

Neville let out another soft chuckle. “You´re here for punishment, I´m here because I wanted to help.”

Then he left you standing in the dim light of the green house, darkness surrounding the garden area for the herb class. You felt as the night crawled into the space and further in, right into your body.

You couldn´t sleep that night after finishing your chores. Your mind was running crazy; Neville Longbottom was right and you both knew it.

After endless turning in your bed, you got up with the first ray of sunshine on the next Saturday morning. As hard as the nightly events had been on your mind, you had come to terms with them.

You were so done; you didn´t and couldn´t care anymore.

There was only one thing left, that you hadn´t quiet figured out.

Why by Merlin’s beard, did a certain, shy Gryffindor boy not leave your mind. You remembered how Neville had left the greenhouse the night before; well, he did rather stroll.

The pure thought of it made heat rise to your cheeks and your stomach tumbling.

Was this boy, who had never stood out in a crowd due to his insecure posture and his crooked teeth, suddenly winning your cold, Slytherin heart?

 No you don't have to wear your best fake smile

Don't have to stand there and burn inside

 Your steps hurried through the great hall, but instead you found yourself at the Gryffindor table right in front of none other than Hermione Granger. Even at this early hour, she was leaning over a pile of papers and books. Surprised and confused, she looked up to you. Besides some minor contentions, which were mostly related to house pride, the two of you never much more to exchange views. Hermione had sorted you, just like most of the students, as an ambitious Slytherin girl with a reputation, to have a liking in playing with fire. But unlike other classmates in green uniforms, you never said a word about families with other bloodlines.

“Do you know where Neville is?”

Her mouth gaped a little open, completely confused by your statement.

“Neville? Neville Longbottom?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Your jaw tightened, the talk and gossip was inevitable anyways and just like Neville had stated; Why does the cold-hearted Slytherin girl even care?

“I want to ask him out.”

If Hermione’s mouth was open before, her jaw basically dropped to the floor. She always knew the right, and considerable fitting words, but she was speechless now.

“He likes to take morning walks around the lake”, she mumbled.

“Thank you.” You nodded appreciating, before leaving her again.

The morning was cold and fresh wind hollered around the towers of the school. It was easy to find his tall figure, he was the only one walking at the lake. When he caught eye of your approaching, he couldn´t help but smile a little as his heartbeat quickened. Even with your messy hair and tired eyes, clearly your conversation yesterday had led to some sleep loss, you looked stunning to him.

A few feet in front of him, you stopped abruptly.

“Hi!”

Good job Y/n, very creative, you thought to yourself. Had he always been this tall? You wondered as you had to stare up a little. And his eyes, did you never notice his calm and kind eyes?!

“Hi?”

“I-“, you took a deep breath, then you continued. “I thought about what you said and you were right. I shouldn´t care, because it doesn´t make me happy.”

Neville nodded understanding, he appeared a little aloof. “I´m glad I could help.”

In the daylight, things were differently. His bravery to speak out his mind was gone, he had remembered who you are, and who he was. It all felt like a far dream to him. He wanted to keep walking, save himself the blushes and humiliation. But you were a true Slytherin, determined to keep going.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?” You asked, practically yelling to stop him from leaving and Neville stopped in his tracks, slowly turning back to you. His face had softened, the same kind expression from the night before.

 She used to put it out and get it all back

But now she's slipping trying to carry the act

She's sweating under the lights, now she's beginning to crack

 “I don´t want to wear my fake smile and I think you´re cute and funny, maybe I can genuinely smile for once.”

Neville smiled from ear to ear, as he stepped closer to you, carefully taking your hands in his. There were warm and slightly rough from the garden work.

“It would be my pleasure to go out with you and maybe make you laugh a little.”

Now, finally, your lips grew into a smile as well and Neville´s hand placed a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“It truly suits you.”

[badlesmisimaginesofficial]

shoutout to @byjuxtaposition​ for egging on my worst thoughts and impulses! this is dedicated to them and also the NHL for giving me more hours of hockey a day than one person can reasonably or safely consume

[nsfw text]

Imagine....

When Valjean first disappeared, you spent weeks looking for him. It made no sense how a man could vanish into thin air and yet he'd done it. Even when your pursued his pseudonyms, no one had heard of Madeleine or Fauchelevent. You kept looking for a while, hoping he would pop up somewhere, but months and then years passed. You had to accept it. The best dick of your life was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

Slowly, you got over it. Gillenormand was happy to pay for your therapy in exchange for sexual favours and you could always go to Javert if you wanted a spanking. His heart was never in it as much, but it scratched the itch.

'I think you're going to see him again,' Eponine says one day. You'd been feeling melancholy and, like clockwork, she showed up in your door with a lit cigarette in hand. It was like she had a psychic sense for when you needed to talk about your love life. So much as a fleeting thought about your romantic prospects and Bam, Eponine would be there.

'Really?' you say, hating how hopeful you sound.

'Yeah. Like, you'll be walking down the street one day and there he'll be. You won't be expecting it.'

'When did you get so wise, 'Ponine?' you giggle. She shoves you affectionately, rolling her eyeliner-rimmed eyes.

'I'm always saying, Y/N. You've got to put your trust in the Infinite.'

'Right. Because that always ends well.'

'Oh come on, it does. And in completely unrelated news, because I exist just to be your hypewoman - '

'What?'

'Are you coming to the game on Saturday?'

'Oh god. I don't know. Wait, are you going?'

Eponine nods, a sly blush creeping onto her face. 'Enjolras has been begging me, you know how he gets about sport.'

'Are you guys like, a thing now?' you ask, delighted. You've spent way too long watching the two of them circle shyly round each other, unable to act on the crazy amounts of sexual tension. It's even worse when they bicker, like watching a lightning storm due to obliterate everything in its path.

'Maaaybe. If you and Montparnasse come it'll be like a double-date!'

You sigh. The only person crazier about sport than Enjolras, Montparnasse has been trying to get you into ice hockey for ages. You're still not super sure of the appeal, but it's like, Really important to Monty. He's got Wayne Gretzky's face tattooed on his left buttcheek for a reason.

'I guess,' you say.

Eponine claps in delight. 'Yess! Ohmygod Y/N, it's going to be so much fun.'

*

You hate to concede it, but she's kind of right. The game is more fun than expected, plus Montparnasse is so delighted that you came that you just know you are getting ploughed for hours later.

Having done exactly zero research before going, you knew nothing about either of the teams. There was one face, though, that you instantly recognised.

'Wait,' you say, tugging on Montparnasse's sleeve. 'Is that... Gritty?'

'What? Oh, yeah. Guess you saw the memes, huh?'

You nod quickly. Ever since seeing tumblr posts about the hideous orange mascot, the thought of his dizzying eyes had stayed with you. You hadn't even realised it was a hockey thing. You can never tell Monty, but there's something sexually thrilling about Gritty, in an appalling way.

Now, you find your eyes following him. Is it your imagination, or is there something familiar about his frame? It's hard to tell under all the orange fluff, but his lumbering gait is oddly recognisable.

It's difficult to pay attention to the game after that. Monty is telling you about how power plays work, but your eyes keep seeking out Gritty wherever he is.

As soon as the first intermission begins, you know what you have to do. Mumbling something about going to the bathroom, you leave Montparnasse next to Eponine and Enjolras (who are snogging vigorously) and head at top speed to where you last saw the mascot.

It doesn't take long to find him. You see the back of his head over the crowd and your heart speeds up. Weaving through the other fans, you break through to the front and find yourself face to face with Gritty.

'Hey,' you say. For one long, horrible moment, he just stares at you, impassive and unblinking. Maybe you got it wrong? It could be some random guy in there, who has no idea who you are or why you sought him out.

'Y/N..?' Gritty says, softer than any such abomination should sound.

Your heart somersaults. It is him!

'We need to talk,' you say, oblivious to the confused fans surrounding the two of you. Gritty nods quickly and, taking your hand, leads you through a series of doors until you're safely enclosed in a store cupboard. Only then does he remove his head, hands trembling, and reveal his face.

'I thought I'd lost you,' you say, tracing one hand along his jaw.

'I'm sorry I left,' Valjean whispers. 'It was all so complicated. But you deserve better.'

'I can't believe you're here. Have you always been Gritty?'

He nods. 'It was a chance for a fresh start. I had to take it, Y/N. God, it's so good to see you.'

Leaning in, he kisses you passionately. It sends electricity through your entire body. You haven't felt like that in so long.

'I...' suddenly, you remember Montparnasse, dutifully waiting for you.

'What?' Valjean tenses, and then reads your mind, just like old times. 'You have a boyfriend?'

Shamefully, you nod. 'I know I should go back to him.'

'Do you want to?'

You shake your head. 'I want... I want you.'

A sudden, devilish smirk plays its way across Valjean's face. 'That can be arranged.'

He reaches to unzip his costume, but you stop him.

'Oh, no,' you say. 'Gritty costume says on during sex.'

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, PHOEBE! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF SALOME.

Admin Rosey: This was incredibly difficult. Both applications were stunning and shined in the limelight - but there were these small details, Phoebe, that you included that had us absolutely captivated. Salome, I think, is a difficult character to encompass so wholly while not overlooking the details. But you managed to do that, to tie her all together while not putting her in a package. The application was such a joy to read from beginning to end - the way that you tied so many different characters into her, into her future. It was an absolute thrill to read because I was able to see so much while still being tantalized by possibilities. I can’t wait to see how Salome shines on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Phoebe

Age | 22

Personal Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | Pretty active (6/10?) due to a national lockdown, but I’m a postgrad student so some days are busier than others.

Timezone | GMT

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group?  | I check out the ‘new rpg’ tag a few times a year & your graphics and then everything drew me in

Current/Past RP Accounts | Masha Vetrova @ ProchnostRPG

IN CHARACTER

Character | SALOME

What drew you to this character? |  Typically I tend to go for characters who have a fundamental moral alignment of ‘good’ (even if it’s been a bit corrupted) so at first I was really drawn to Gabriel/Abaddon/Isolde. I even brainstormed them a bit before moving onto the demon bios.

But then I read Salome’s bio, and I really couldn’t get her out of my mind. There is something so delicious about her, so dastardly poetic. In a way, she’s as pure of heart as many morally good characters - patient, steadfast, true to herself. It’s just that her heart is a blackened one. A nature so rotted that even eternal damnation in Hell’s Abyss was not enough. The only fitting destiny was a demonic one, and the wings tore out of her body as if they’d been there, dormant, all along.

I know the story of Salome (thanks Oscar Wilde) & I just adore the way in which the bio weaves the biblical story into this world and this character. Salome the Temptress, unflinching as she demands the head of John the Baptist and damns all around her to Hell. This one line in particular from Rosey really, really captured it all for me:

No, the minute her mortal heart stopped beating and she opened her eyes to the fires of Hell, there was only laughter to be heard – pouring from her lips as melodic as a lark’s song, a stark contrast to the wailing and grinding of teeth.

Salome feels young and charming and spoiled and light and warm and content and this image - her descending into Hell, disrupting it with her peals of laughter - sums it all up. She is arrogant and uninhibited with her sins plain for all to see. But she is also clever. She is a girl who dances with the dead; demon through and through. She lets them openly see it so that they do not think to look closer. For if they did, surely they would see Salome was more damned than they’d ever envisioned? See that the open delight she projects - the laughter and fevered dancing, - all distract from a mind capable of cold, calm strategy? See that her hands are beautiful because they are stained with the first blood of this new world?

…All of which is to say that Salome the Temptress has worked that tempting magic of hers on me too - hook, line and sinker.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it serves your guys’ plotting vision then absolutely! I’d just ask to write the death scene/have some say in the way it went down. (The person killing her off better be prepared for the fight of their lives).

FUTURE PLOT IDEAS

• (small) PLEASURES •

Grand plans and power grabs are all very well, but day to day (on the dash lol) Salome is ruled by small pleasures and indulgences. What was the point of forging this new world if not to luxuriate in it?

01. I’m very curious to see how her relations with all the other demons play out. Salome is by and large a solitary creature - the natural result of her arrogance - but I think there are some demons she favours more than others. I could see a potential friendship (or the lesser version of that bond) with ORIAS, for one. There were those who saw something akin to witchcraft in Salome too. There had been envy, when Orias was hailed the Original Witch, but even Salome has come to recognise the ungodly power that resides in them. They are one of the only creatures that Salome has any real respect for. She understands that there is value to learn in what Orias can teach.They call them the false prophet - it seems poetic that Salome is drawn to her. (So ! Much ! Potential ! Witchy ! Power !)

02. So too can I imagine Salome having a particular curiosity towards MAMMON. Hungry and dark and empty, Mammon is probably Salome’s demonic ideal. With mortal origins herself, they represent a different kind of demon – one she thinks is utterly beautiful. Their future ambitions could align, both with a deep, aching appetites, but I can also see her purely enjoying the unique company of them. Salome does not treat her ability with any real respect or caution; she sees the dead as a game. think she’d genuinely delight in Mammon mimicking her gift and the amusements that could follow. (Ok not to say I’m suggesting deal body party games but it’s very that)

03. Salome gets equal pleasure (if not a great deal more) from less-than-friendly relations. She pushes purely because other people’s irritation amuses her. I think her relationship with AZAZEL in particular could be very, very fun. Of all the demons, I can see Salome having a particularly petty dislike / jealousy of Azazel for a few many reasons.. A) they are both products of indulgence, daughters of parents (literally and figuratively) who spoiled them rotten. Similarities repel and all that. B) Azazel is part of the de facto royal family, favoured by JUDAS.. and DAMIEN .. and ABADDON .. and Salome has not ever handled that well. She watched on as they, along with the rest of hell, fell for her and thus a time-old grudge was born. C) Azazel forms part of the Holy Land’s rulership. A land that was won because of Salome (in her mind) and one she feels has rights of ownership too. I imagine that Salome genuinely despises that the role was given to Azazel of all demons. I - I just sense so many great opportunities for both bickering and battling.

04. Salome draws great pleasure from her own magnetism. Devotion has followed her throughout the stages of her life, but it too has come to wax and wane. It is there in BASTIEN though, and it’s one of the connections I’m most excited for. He satisfies her addiction, and in return she is both doting and cruel. There is some value in him politically, bu it’i more of a .. personal connection. That could change though. Or, perhaps a genuine fondness might develop, in the same way that other celestial beings seem to be fond of their animal companions. A muted form of possessiveness over his gaze and his wonderment (which may well manifest in Salome having a particular resentment towards EVANGELINE) . If he were to share out his devotion, or if it was curtailed by any harm coming to Bastien himself, Salome would not be happy. Perhaps his attentions have come to somewhat satiate her appetite and tentatively restrains her darkest needs - a fact that neither of them have realised. (!!!!!)

• (medium) OPPORTUNITIES •

05. There are some things she keeps to herself - at least for now. There’s a lot of potential for self-paras or connections with the wider RP plot. To me, Salome has something akin to true addiction inside of her. It was there from the moment of her mortal birth, and it worsened with each hit. Essentially, I think an inescapable plot point is that Salome is a lil’ bit bloodthirsty. I think this would largely be developed through my own musings and mortals who are just ‘extras’ to this RP, but I’d love to deal with the intricacies of Salome having to cover this habit. Maybe she continues to use others as scapegoats; maybe she chooses her victims with careful attention so that they go unnoticed; maybe she does it in such a way that implies the presence of a beast or daemonium.

( In fact, the concept of the DAEMONIUM is verrrrrrrrrry intriguing. Creates who inhabit corpses and do nothing but feed their hunger? Sounds like a character I know. This is a potential plot point that relies on your guys’ vision and some collaborative world-building, but I think there is definitely exciting potential to explore these creatures through Salome. Imagine the carnage of her trying (successfully or unsuccessfully) to out-possess them.)

06. I think Salome would take any opportunity to poison Infernum’s highest-ranking. This isn’t so much be her political ‘end-goal’, but an opportunity for some real entertainment. It would be a game, try and crack the kinship that exists among  AZAZEL, JUDAS, DAMIEN and ABADDON; injecting a few words here, a few doubts there, and see if their loyalty lasts.. She knows Judas from a past life and has watched him oh so carefully overtheir many entwined centuries - I imagine she is a gnat to him, pushing all the right (and thus wrong) buttons. It would a sport to try and make his familial dynasty crumble. Perhaps she might attempt this by throwing doubt on to Abaddon in particular, whose aura contains a flatness that Salome cannot read. Salome doesn’t know of the goodness that lies in her, but perhaps she might find out. Regardless, I think Salome’s worst imaginable fate would be being locked in the Black Cells, unable to dance and revel in the world, so she harbours dislike for Abaddon anyway…

07. EPHEMERA is an opportunity that Salome had not anticipated. And let me tell you, boy do I adore this connection. It strikes me as a true clashing of teeth and spirits, but not as simple as one born from pure malice or hatred. Salome feels many things towards Ephemera, but she certainly doesn’t hate her - even if the ferocity between them implies otherwise sometimes. There’s a thin line between love and hate, as they say, though perhaps neither of those terms sum up Salome an Ephemera. It seems to be pure passion and temptation. I can’t say where this could lead without the thoughts of a possible Ephemera writer, but I’m sure it will be nothing short of explosive. I think this connection is the most Salome has ever felt towards another being, and that in itself is curious to her.

• (great) AMBITIONS •

The possible destinies of Salome. The following are all ways in which her story could play out, and all of them are quite dramatic. Who’s afraid of the big, bad plots….

08. Infernum technically has no throne. In order to thus claim it, perhaps one first has to be built? Salome would have no qualms choosing a side in another demonic cvil war. Why, if DAMIEN were to stake the claim of his birthright against JUDAS, he could count on Salome for support. If Judas were to live up to his title and betray the antichrist, he could count on Salome for support - if he got there before the other. Salome will happily help them consolidate a throne through bloodshed and betrayal. In fact, it will be her pleasure.

For through it all, Salome will be the demon who has thought to use MICHAEL. They are insufferable and righteous and (quite literally) archangel incarnate - really, if she had the chance, she knows that their blood would be the most utterly divine to spill - but they are useful. Undeniably powerful. Salome knows she must be careful here, but she enjoys the undisguised exasperation on their face. As if they have not yet thought to recognise the ambition that lies in both of them. If they helped her ascend to the throne of Infurnem, she would be a far more acquiescent to Caelum’s interests than the current leadership. Why? Because Salome would not act - would not even pretend to act - on behalf of demonic interests. If the best chance of her claiming ownership of the world depended on sharing it with Michael, then perhaps she would be willing.

09. But power can manifest in more than one way. She could follow such dreams, or she could become the world’s nightmares. And wouldn’t that be more indulgent? Where others hold power or peace as their prime ambition, Salome would get equal pleasure from the simple decay of all things. The world could rot and she would laugh - the dead are often better company than the living. Ultimately Salome would start another war without hesitation; she would sacrifice everything and everyone for the beautiful carnage of utter destruction. It had been so easy with the War of the Last Rites, but she had been disappointed when it ended in peace. That will not happen again; she will be ready next time. When all factions are suitably engaged, she will raise her own force and strike them all down together. — Such are her thoughts anyway. Thoughts that started developing when she met RYUK. To her, the power Ryuk holds is breathtaking. There is no other ability she desires quite as much. For if she were to contain both of their powers within herself, she would have dominion over a force so great that no living creature - mortal or immortal - could ever hope to defeat. The dead. It is a delicate strategy, but she has the patience for it. And if there was any who would spill the blood of a horseman just to see what happened, then it would surely be Salome.

10. Where there are mortals, there is faith. The relationship between Salome and the faith of the HUNDRED-EYED GOD intrigues me. In her mortal life, faith was an amusement. Its believers has been her playthings - perhaps they are again in this world. ISOLDE is as all prophets are; tempting. I think that Salome could potentially decide to join the faith – or give the impression to do so. Such a deceit would be fun and far from difficult - already she joins in on their rituals, her feet unable to stay away from any form of rhythmic movement, even ones more gentle than her usual tastes. A demon of relative influence, perhaps her faith would be welcomed amongst those most holy, perceived as a positive development in the faith’s recruitment. Perhaps she finds a currently unknown fellowship in the form of ESTIENNE, whose manipulation of the shadows surely speaks of some rot in his heart.

And all for one simple reason. Where there is faith, there are the faithful. Where there is the faithful, there is the potential for bloodshed so rich - so intoxicating - that she would play this long, patient game just to taste a singular drop. She has never been able to recreate the electrification of that first diabolical deed, when she claimed a saint’s head as her prize. She had danced and damned and thirsted ever since; the blood of an ALL-SEEING PRIESTESS might just quench such a need.

• (potential) DOWNFALLS •

Ah, but all of the above are just potential ideas. It is just as likely that Salome would be subject to some downfalls and some .. rude awakenings. I adore the fact that both MICHAEL and RYUK have such different perceptions of their connections. They are both far smarter than she gives credit. Michael is, ultimately, more powerful than Salome on more ways than one - they will surely outplay her as they have everyone, though she might be of some use to them too. In Ryuk, Salome has started a war she might live to regret - one she hasn’t even realised she’s fighting. She has perhaps been a little naive here, and it will be quite something when she realises.

There are other possible connections that could prove Salome’s downfall – or at least a be a hindrance. In my mind, it is GABRIEL, ZADKIEL and CAPHRIEL that she is most weary of. They each have a light to them that she does not care for, along with the arrogance present in all angels. I say in the following section that Salome has no fears; they represent the closest thing she has to possible concerns. I don’t think she yet knows any of them particularly well outside of the War, but she has thought of their powers. The latter two in particular harbour gifts that could, potentially, expose Salome, and thus she has developed a specific distaste for them. And of course, she probably finds them particularly fun to antagonise.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | [TW: Implied suicide in section I ]

I think a large part of my attraction to Salome is that she isn’t really driven by an external force. Partly she is driven by the deep appetite within her (which I’ve mentioned more in other parts of this application) but I also think her motivations stem from her own intrinsic nature; she is pushed by her own heart towards ambitions that are mere extensions of her character. I think there are three central aspects of her character that best explain her motivations and actions: a complete lack of fear, an overwhelming self-adoration and a deep, petulant intolerance of monotony. Together, they’ve created a woman - a demon - amply motivated to do any of the above listed plot ideas.. One who simply does as she wants for no reason other than want itself. Below I’ve given three early examples (set in BP) of these traits taking root (and rot):

I • For what use is fear to those who are damned?

It was said that Jesus’ tomb lay empty. Through the wind Salome heard whispers of women who’d gone to mourn and found nothing - only stone and airwhere a pierced and bloodied body should have lain. It seemed the proclaimed child of God had evaded corporeal death yet again; that the words of the old, tiresome preacher whose head she once cradled had proved true. Their claims and their preachings were not false as her father had accused - but really, had not Salome always known that? Was it not she who had delivered John’s salvation, cast him up to his venerated Heaven? And as it happened - as both the head and the soul of John his body - had not she felt her own moment of pure, divine bliss?

It brought clarity; there was no hesitation in her now. She stood alone, looking out upon the depths of the Galilee Sea with an unconfined grin spread wide upon her face. She had known, always known, that the boredom of this life was only temporary. The adoration she received on earth had grown dull, she sought new, greater opportunities for her talents. There had existed a deep craving inside for as long as she could remember, one that had become increasingly difficult to satiate. It told her that her destiny lay outside of Heaven, that both the prophet and her father the king had been right to look upon her with fear. For if John and Jesus had ascended upwards, could she not leap down into her own descent? The idea of it felt so simple, so natural, so potentially powerful. Neither death nor the the promise of damnation brought her anything but intrigue. She thought of the wicked and the cruel, of the infernal depths to which she was bound, and felt only satisfied.

Mortal though she was, Salome was not afraid. Why should she fear her own destiny? Why should she fear for those she left behind? Fear had no place in a heart without hope. With a simple step, she threw herself into the icy water and waited to reach the blackest depths below.

II • For what use is love to those who are satisfied?

Where there was Salome there was laughter - her own, that was - sharp, loud and melodic. When she first opened her mouth it had sliced through Hell and turned all of its eyes onto her. Rightly so, for she she had laughed as she’d evaded Abaddon’s grasp, clawing herself out of the Abyss of mortal souls and claiming a rightful place in the depths of Hell. The Morningstar, sat above all, had not yet even spoken when Salome had started to dance.

She could feel Hell’s eyes on her, and what better way to greet such attentions than with that she did best. She had reaped rich rewards for it before, and she would do so again. A fleeting glance at her naked body showed her this realm had not dulled her beauty but made magnified it, her skin aglow with the fiery light of hellfire. And so Salome danced, feverishly but deliberately, losing herself in the spirit of the moment. What could anyone do but simply bask in the splendor of her new existence? As she raised her arms above her head, a pair of wings cut through her flesh and slowly tore out of her. Iridescent, they unfurled as if they too had felt the call of her movement.

A feast of celebration had followed. Salome could only laugh in delight as she looked upon demonic faces of adoration, gazes more alike than different to those she had received on earth. Seated at the left-hand of Lucifer himself, she had slotted into the natural order of Hell as if it had been her descent that had been prophesied on earth. How many in Hell, with all its angelic origins, had the blood of a true holy man on their hands? Perhaps just herself – and, she supposed, the man sat to the right of the Prince. Judas Iscariot. The Great Betrayer. A man she had known of in her mortality, a follower who’d wrought a downfall more entertaining than any Salome had otherwise witnessed. He looked on at her with a hard glint in his eyes and she merely smiled back - for Salome understood why. Here she was, a fellow mortal in Hell with infernal wings protruding from her back where Judas had none. It all made such perfect sense; Salome was truly different. Truly transcendent. Made and marked by forces darker then most of Hell could stand. In that moment (and all moments thereafter), Salome was acutely aware of the true power that resided within her, spilling out through her beauty, allure and wretched talents. Why, she was utterly glorious.

III • For what use is peace to those who are bored?

Eternity stretched out in front of her; memories of the wouldn’t fade. Of all the differences between immortal and mortal existence, it was only the nature of time that had ever frustrated her. To Salome, the centuries had passed by in both unfathomable speed and agonising monotony, the linearity of earth dead and gone. It seemed that in the face of an infinite future, even Hell could drag. It operated in a stasis that had begun to suffocate her and, gradually, had awakened once again an appetite that had only been temporally satiated. Lucifer dictated balance and moderation where Salome saw no reason for restraint. He had given her duties like none earth had ever dared, and she didn’t care to fulfil them. She had even grown tired of her puppetry, tired of dancing amongst such frustratingly passive bodies. There was, in a place of corruption, nobody left to actually corrupt; no opportunity to taste innocent or holy blood.

Over time she came to sense the quiet seeds of unrest in Hell, and she was gladdened by them. Once again a wicked smile graced her face, once again she twirled around the pits of Hell in anticipation. There was no better cure for boredom than chaos, and once she’d caught the scent of it her hunt could not be stopped. It had proven easy to have the whispers diverted and delivered to her ears - so many were under her spell, either terrified or infatuated. So Salome came to learn of plans of razing Hell against its master, ripping through worldly divides and claiming the earth she once lived on. At last - she could have wept from delight. And most entertaining of all, Salome had snatched the dice into her her hands.

How easy it would be to join the dissenters, to war with them against the order of Hell that had shackled her. How tempting it was, to dash their plans by raising her own blade to the Morningstar and plunging the world into carnage without warning. How fun, the thought of taking all she knew to Lucifer and laughing as he rained down revenge on the demons he had been foolish enough to trust. Impatient with monotony; patient in the face of action. Salome did not yet know what she would do, and she found utter delight in the potential of it all.

PARA SAMPLE

The Holy Land was not suited to revelry. It lacked the vitalityand decadent excessthat a true celebration required. And really, wasn’t this her domain? Nobody got more unadulterated pleasure from a celebration than Salome - she doubted that even the festivities of the Stygian Moon would be of renown without her inputs. This particular affair was proving even more tiresome than she’d foreseen. Every year she stands under the Triune Moon and watches as solemn vows are sworn; every year she wonders why they could not just be done so in private, sparing them all this tedium. She had said as much to Damien before as they had departed the comforts of the Black Palace, and had received little more than a scowl in response. But she knows her point has more merit than they’d care to admit. How long before these promises of harmony are exposed as a farce? At least that year promises some true entertainment.

Salome thinks all this as she watches the stage in front of her, eyes lazily switching between the three figures who stand upon it. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars; every pair of eyes in the sweeping crowd are trained on them. Salome can feel them. Or rather, she can’t feel the usual warmth of infatuated gazes on her own skin. Here she stood amongst hoards of mortals and beings more lowly than herself, and none were paying her their usual bouts of attention. The only thing that prevented a quiet tantrum was the knowledge that she was far from alone in feeling this agitation. Her stare flickered from the stage towards the figures of both Michael and Judas, and she could not help but smile. To eyes that had repeatedly examined them over centuries, the rigidity of their bodies betrayed them. She was far from the only one who felt the absence of centrality, and that, at least, brought her some pleasure.

Still, she only has so much patience for ceremonies not directed at her.  Yet no sooner did she shift to exit the crowd than did words delivered on the stage give her pause. Azazel’s voice, suitably haughty, repeating the typical sentiments of the Holy Land. This was the ‘Age of Peace’, Salome hears her say. Only the ‘cooperation of all factions and the formation of the tridium’ had rendered them ‘triumphant against the heretics who would cast all into darkness.’ This time she cannot hold in the delicate laugh that ripples through her. If only the annual repetition of such statements made them true. If only they knew of the true origins of the War that brought this so-called peace, of where the credit should rightfully lie. Though she knows it would be foolish - more than foolish - Salome can think of nothing but how simple it would be to stand above all and confess. She’d let them savour the details of her sins and her glories. She would laugh as they wilted under the weight of her revelations.

‘I’ve never seen you look so engrossed off of the battlefield.’

Her imaginings are cut off by quiet words from behind her. She needs not turn to identify the voice of Ephemera, familiar as it has come to be. Salome had, of course, seen her across the crowd - when did her eyes start to automatically seek her out so? - but marked her presence as an occupation for later. That Ephemera sought her out first is not necessarily unexpected, but certainly thrilling. There is no other presence that can so easily bring Salome out of a petulant mood, just as there is no other who can so easily put her in one. But she has found that where there is Ephemera, there is entertainment to be had.

“You have not seen me do many things,” she replies easily, as if they had long been having this conversation, “though I do believe I’ve offered.” And she has, more than once, tried to entice her with offers of dancing and hunting and enjoying all the vices of the world they fought for. She turns her head slowly to meet the watchful gaze of her once fighting-partner, a smirk on her lips as she widens her eyes in faux-innocence. They are two alike; mortals once but mortals no more, the first of their kinds. She knows Ephemera will not rise to her bait within the presence of other Angels, which only heightens her simpering expression. Salome has no such qualms about the thoughts of her own kin; their talk excites her, their gossip only confirms how many pay her heed. She has found no simpler joy than that of walking into the Black Palace and leaving excited whispers in her wake.

“I’m sure you’ll agree that celebrating won wars is less fun than waging them’, she continues, amusement ringing clear through her voice as she returned her gage purposefully to the stage. “I asked Azazel if she might add some zeal - perhapsmake those hounds do some tricks - but she seems to have ignored my good wishes”. Salome can feel the rolling of Angelic eyes next to her without even looking. It was so easy, so predictable, and yet anything but boring. That was the real curiosity of Ephemera, so easy to reel in and yet so resistant to truly jumping off the edge. She seemed halfway caught between accepting Salome’s allure and running from it, and the resistance only increased her desire. “Though your one is the more dull, I believe. So earnest - it’s quite exhausting.”

It is clear that Ephemera is acting advisor and strategist rather than - what? Friend? Enemy? Something in between? - whichraised the question as to why she had approached her in the first place. She thinks to ask, but when she opens her mouth to do so the crowd erupts in an applause more loud than she thinks the show was worthy of. Still, she brings her own hands together for the sheer relief that it is finally over. Her feet ache from standing bored for so long, her wings want to stretch open and wide. She wonders if a large enough quantity of alcohol might loosen Ephemera a little, but when she turns to declare this she finds that her companion has disappeared in the movement of so many people. A pity, but no real matter. She has never needed the company of others to create her own sport.

EXTRAS

[ My (WIP) pinterest for Salome can be found here. ]

Salome keeps no animal companion, for she has never felt much love for the nature of the earth. She finds it amusing that some Angels and Demons belittle themselves by keeping one. However, it is not an uncommon sight to see Salome walking with crows flying above her. Only on closer inspection would one realise those animals are but corpses, a puppetry Salome (alone) finds humorous.

Like all parts of herself, she harbours great love for her wings, and not only for the damnation that they represent. They are formed of what resembles a netting of fine, golden spider’s web. They seem to constantly change in the light, appearing to be more transparent than they are solid. Regal and beautiful, they are as Salome sees herself.

She is a fierce fighter and a connoisseur of bloodshed. Her weapon of choice is a trailing point blade, forged on the day of her arrival in Hell. She uses it exclusively for more.. intimate situations, and favours instead a simple longsword on the battlefield. She is however, proficient with most weaponry, as the corpses she can make fight use the same weapons they died wielding against her.

Though Infernum is the home she helped carve out, Salome spends a great deal of time in Sanctus Terra and travels to Caelum whenever the opportunity presents itself. Both locations amplify an itch deep within her soul, worsening her desire and thereby bringing greater satisfaction when she finally acts on the urge. She has not spilled any angelic blood in Caelum, though the temptation is strong, for she knows Michael has become astute to her presence. She has left a fair few victims in Sanctus Terra, a pursuit which has become less satisfying overtime. Still, Salome is careful. For all their talk of kinship, she is not sure that her fellow demons would refrain from locking her in the Black Cells if they had just cause.

[ aaaaaaand I leave you with the last verse of ‘Salome’, a poem by Mary Lamb. I honestly can’t describe it as anything over then *chef’s kiss*. I don’t know if Rosey read this when she was writing Salome’s bio, but I thought the writing style and tone and vibe and all beautifully mirrored each other?? Stunning. On that note, regardless of whether of not you think I’m right for Salome, thank you for the obvious amount of time/thought you’ve all put into this because it’s been really (really) fun to explore. ]

When painters would by art express Beauty in unloveliness, Thee, Herodias’ daughter, thee, They fittest subject take to be. They give thy form and features grace; But ever in they beauteous face They shew a steadfast cruel gaze, An eye unpitying; and amaze In all beholders deep they mark, That thou betrayest not one spark Of feeling for the ruthless deed, That did thy praiseful dance succeed. For on the head they make you look, As if a sullen joy you took, A cruel triumph, wicked pride, That for your sport a saint had died.

[lifcblood]

─  the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to, reflecting back a spitting image of OH SE-HUN  -  but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of BRINGING YOUR MOTHER PERSEPHONE BACK HOME TO THE UNDERWORLD strikes you.  perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse. you reassure yourself  -  you’re ZAGREUS,  a TWENTY-FIVE YEAR OLD TATTOO ARTIST whose virtue lies in your KIND-HEARTED & PERSISTENT , although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite REBELLIOUS & SELF-DEPRECATING,  and you’re associated with BEING BORN WITH MISMATCHED EYES ; ONE A FIERY RED AND ANOTHER A BRIGHT GREEN, SURROUNDED BY SHADES AND SKELETONS OBSERVING YOUR EVERY MOVE, & CRAWLING OUT OF THE RIVER STYX by those around you.  suddenly,  however,  you’ve found THE STYGIAN BLADE KNOWN AS STYGIUS on your person - was that always there? from the moment you leave the funhouse,  memories from your life in HADES have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you.  you can almost hear HOLY ROLLER by SPIRITBOX following in your wake.

QUICK FACTS —

FANDOM: hades — a dungeon crawler video game about greek mythology FULL NAME: zagreus ALIASES: zag, little hades, prince of the underworld, god of rebirth, god of hunting AGE: twenty-five physically but he’s also immortal DATE OF BIRTH: unknown PLACE OF BIRTH: house of hades, deepest depths of the underworld SPECIES: god SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic PROFESSION: testing the underworld's security HEIGHT: five foot nine EYES: he inherited his parent’s eyes. the right one is a fierce red like his father, while the left one is a vibrant green like his mother. HAIR: jet black in color and usually styled to be swept to one side BUILD: muscular, toned UNUSUAL FEATURES: his feet and ankles are infernal. which essentially means they’re always radiating heat and glowing as a result. they give off sparks of fire when he runs or walks due to the similarities to lava. it’s important to also note that the flames are harmless so nothing will burn as a result of his physical feature. PARENTS: hades (father), persephone (mother), nyx (mother figure) GRANDPARENTS: demeter, chaos COUSINS: athena, artemis, ares, dionysus, hermes UNCLES: zeus, poseidon AUNTS: hera PETS: cerberus BEST FRIEND: thanatos COLLEAGUES: aphrodite, achilles, hypnos, megaera, dusa, orpheus, charon SIBLINGS: an only child but considers ransom drysdale an older brother

LIFE IN CANON —

Zagreus is the only child born to Hades and Persephone. Although at first he had been stillborn. The Fates decides that Hades shouldn’t have an heir and Persephone ran away in grief but refused to return to her birthplace on Olympus since she disliked all the bickering the Gods do. She would settle in Greece to grieve and Demeter covered the mortal realm in an endless winter for her daughter.

Nyx would bring Zagreus back to life with her powers in an extremely lengthy process and would become his mother figure. Hades raises him on his own alongside the Goddess of the Night but never speaks of Persephone and doesn’t let anyone in the House to say her name either.

The prince would befriend the Fury Megaera and the God of Death Thanatos when they’re all children . . . .  the latter ending up becoming his best friend. It’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? Zagreus is the God of Rebirth and being so close to Death. They’re such opposites but every time he would die and be reborn again he could count on his best friend to bring him to the River Styx.

However, once growing older Zagreus grew bored of always being stuck in the House of Hades. He wanted to explore the Underworld and try to see what life is outside of their realm. His father didn’t approve of this and would try to stop him in this ridiculous quest. He would die several times trying to make his escape but due to the nature of his ability to be reborn he just ends up stepping out of the Styx and hanging his head when realizing he’s back home again.

Achilles trained him and has become like an idol to Zagreus. Everything he knows about combat comes from him and doesn’t think there’s anyone is a better fighter than Achilles. Which gave him at least a little chance in making it through the obstacles arranged by Hades to keep him home. The other Olympians aided him to give him an additional advantage.

One night, Zagreus would discover a letter left by his birth mother which gave him even more motivation to make it out of the Underworld to try and find her. He needed to see Persephone at least once. It’s bittersweet when the boy is finally able to do this as he’s forever bound to the Underworld like his father and only has limited time in Greece with his mother. He would die of natural causes and Thanatos would have to come get him since he is Death after all. Zagreus would fight his way out again and again and again just to get more time with Persephone. He wanted to learn everything about her, why she left, and just exist there with her for their limited amount of time allowed.  

After numerous visited, Zagreus was able to convince his mother to come home by reminding her of the bonds of family. Zagreus and Persephone sail back to the House of Hades by Charon. Persephone resumed her duties as Queen of the Underworld and Hades finally respects his son again. The escape attempt turned into a job of finding security vulnerabilities throughout their realm. Their family was reunited again and for once? They’re all happy again. If Zagreus was going to be bound to roam their realm for eternity then he’ll do it happily knowing his parents are both here too.  

Persephone would reconcile with the other Gods and Goddesses by inviting them to a feast in the House of Hades. They all thought that Hades and Persephone eloped and had Zagreus. She avoided telling them about her resentment of Olympus and told a lie that she could only leave the Underworld a few months out of the year due to eating pomegranate seeds. The Olympians accept the lie but know the truth and just want to move on.

There’s a lot of lore that comes along with playing someone tied to Greek Mythology so . . .  I’m not going to cover everything but this is the plot from the game! All other Greek Mythology related lore can be assumed to have happened but I’m not going to write it out.

LIFE IN ALUCARD —

THE ITEM FOUND ON HIS PERSON:

STYGIAN BLADE also known as STYGIUS and the blade of the underworld. It’s a longsword that belonged to Lord Poseidon before he opted for his trident. It’s one of the finest weapons to ever be wielded and played a role in sealing the titans deep within the deepest recesses of tartarus. Achilles gave the sword to Zagreus since he knew Hades wouldn’t pay any mind. You could feel how eager Stygius was to have a partner again and be used in a fight at the time.

Zagreus doesn’t understand where the sword came from but something told him to hold onto it. He currently has it mounted over his television in his house.

ANIMAL FAMILIAR:

Zagreus has a puppy version of Cerberus living with him. They have vibrant red fur and three heads. They’re a very good boy but have attachment issues. If Zag is gone for too long then some of the furniture in his home will get destroyed. Each head has their own personality!

ORIGIN:

Zagreus was born into an extremely wealthy family. He’s an only child which meant getting away with most of his shenanigans growing up. They wanted their son to accomplish great things which meant that they spoiled him. Whatever the boy wanted? He got.

You could imagine their disappointment when Zagreus expressed an interest in art from a young age. He didn’t care about playing sports or preparing to take over the family business. Always more content to sit down with a fresh pad of paper and pencil. He become quite the talented artist in adulthood, working toward being better with everyday. Zagreus even does some graphic design commissions.

His true passion is tattooing. Which you could imagine the look on his parents’ faces when they were told that their only son wanted that as his career. Their love outgrew their disapproval though and would support this venture just as long as Zagreus still came to mingle at events. His body quickly becomes covered in ink which often makes him the talk of the party.

IF YOU CLICK HERE THERE’S REFERENCE TO AT LEAST THIRTEEN OF HIS TATTOOS.

He’s a soft man despite appearances and most people know it. Zagreus often feels like something is missing from his life but eventually it all makes sense when the memories from his canon lifetime come flooding back in. How could he forget? How do you come to terms with realizing something you’ve been reading about all your life is suddenly true? He knows that going up to people and saying “hey i’m a god” wouldn’t get many reactions where it’s believed. So, Zagreus pushes it deep down and focuses on his tattoo appointments and tries to deal with it on his own.

[ueno2yama]

Plan B [ ETHAN DOLAN X OC ]

A/N: this is my first tumblr post so go a little easy on me!

WARNINGS: light swearing.

PART ONE OF PLAN B SERIES.

-

venus’ feet were placed flat on the skateboard, that continuously shifted under the heels of her dirty airforces. she kept her hand tightly locked around her best friend’s wrist, as he did his best to try and guide her through the basics of skateboarding.

“got it?” grayson asked after explaining what she had to do, but she didn’t even collect half of what he said. she was to busy trying to to not fall off.

she gave him a worried glance when she felt his grip on her waist loosen, “no no! gray i’m gonna fucking fall to my death.”

the pair had been at the park for almost an hour trying to get venus to just kick off with her foot. but nothing was working because each time he let go she would say the same thing, about falling to her death.

“no you’re not.” he gripped her cheeks making her focus on him, “i’m right here and it’s just a skateboard. you practically split yourself in half at times.”

it was true.

she’s broken parts of her body that she didn’t even know could be broken. sometimes she didn’t even notice they were broken, until a sharp pain shot her like a cold bullet entering warm skin.

“or are you to much of a pussy to do it?” grayson taunted, knowing he got to her. venus hated being doubted; the thought of someone thinking that she’s less of what she actually is made her shake with anger. and since it was coming from her best friend she was even more pissed

“let go.” she could feel his smirk, when those words slipped from her mouth.

the second his grip loosened, her left foot scraped the ground and she kicked off. she flew with surprising speed, faster then she wanted to go but it didn’t matter much to her as long as she was riding a skateboard probably she was happy.

but that happiness soon faded into worry as she heard grayson’s voice calling her name. it didn’t matter though because what he was warning her for already hit her hard.

she crashed into a metal gate, causing her to slide out from under her board and her whole body to fall forward against the cement ground. before her head could hit the ground though, she had her hands placed out in front of her which were now marked with small red bruises from the impact.

“are you okay?” grayson’s voice was laced with worry, he quickly wrapped his arms around his bruised best-friend. she simply nodded and he pressed his hand to his chest in relief, “i-i’m so sorry i didn’t think that would happen and i just thought you could handle it..is there anything i can do?”

“gray, it’s okay!” she smiled at his worried state, blessing her poor friend’s heart. she pushed herself off the ground wincing, and almost collapsing again as she simply hopped on her left foot cause her right ankle was possibly sprained. “you can help me walk to the car though.”

-

“hey honey,” grayson’s mother lisa greeted when venus limped into the dolan’s kitchen. her eyes shifted to the foot she was limping on before back at her, “what happened?”

“skateboard,” she huffed, lisa hummed nodding understandably. lisa had two teenage boys, one who eat, sleeped, and breathed skateboarding so theyve had a fair share of injuries. “grayson is going out to get ice.”

“his food is gonna get cold,” lisa pouted at the plate of pizza she had ordered while they were out. she took once slice from grayson’s plate and passed it to venus with a small smile, “don’t tell him, you know how much that boy loves food.”

venus shook her head at the older lady, and took a big bite of the pepperoni slice.

her attention was now shifted away from the pizza slice and to the boy who trudged into the kitchen. that made the girl roll her eyes, almost forgetting that he even existed.

“hey mom,” the voice that was laced with kindness, soon was filled with venom and poison as if he shifted from mice to snake when his eyes fell upon the girl, “foster.”

she looked him up and down, her honey-brown eyes studying ethan, the twin-brother of her best friend. ethan and grayson were very similar at times, but just because they’re twins doesn’t mean they don’t have a few differences here and there.

and one of their differences is their relationship with venus foster, a family friend that’s been around since birth. grayson dolan and venus foster were inseparable from a young age, which made the older twin feel left out at times. grayson and venus’ personalities mixed well, even if they were almost the exact same. but then ethan and venus were the exact opposite from each other, which is why they butted heads so much.

so what turned into little arguments and small glares, formed into pure hatred once they grew older. it didn’t help that they had to be around each other almost every day of their life, due to the connection of their families and that they practically share grayson.

everyone caught on. grayson, who no matter what always tried to make sure they got along but failed miserably. lylah, grayson’s girlfriend and syd venus’ cousin/motional support ‘animal’. sarah, venus’ mother. even lisa, which was sick of the two bickering.

which is why she had a plan.

-

“are you serious?”

that was the reaction to lisa’s plan. ethan didn’t like it nor did venus. the first time the two actually had something in common.

the plan was forcing venus to practically handcuff and babysit, who might she add was older than her. but lisa explained it as, ‘spending all of their free time together until they’re forced to like each other’

“mom you understand that this is probably gonna make us hate each other more right?” ethan questioned, trying to convince his mom to lift the punishment.

venus simply just sat on the couch listening to ethan’s pleas. and praying that lisa had short-term memory loss and forgot about this.

“well i’m willing to take that risk.” lisa replied, which ethan groaned at sitting back down on the couch done with arguing and just to pissed to form words.

lisa then shrugged, “besides,”

“i have a plan b.”

-

A/N: OK SO I PROMISE THIS WILL GET MORE EXCITING. THIS WAS A BIT OF AN INTRO! but i like where this is going. also i might be doing small blurbs or imagines so stay tuned tehe.

[2ofswords]

001 pathologic

Even if it says “Pathologic” I’ll mostly be talking about Pathologic 2 and specify if it’s not the case. It’s just where most of my experience lies since I’m not done with Pathologic Classic HD yet. ^^

Also I’m putting this one under a cut because… man. That got long! Like way too long, I thought I could do this one very quick and now two hours have passed and I’m still writing it! Dear god, these are a lot of questions!

 Favorite character: ... It’s Dankovsky. We all know it. I mean I went into the game being like “I’m pretty sure the tragic asshole character is gonna be my favorite...” Credit where credit is due, I persevered until the day 11 conversation. But we all would have known that Marble Nest would have gotten me anyways so.. Yeah. I especially love his dynamic relationship with Artemy in Patho 2 and he is just a fun and complex character, that I really love to think about and who has made some terrible decisions while still staying sympathetic for me. Also the mix of science and dreams is just something that I find interesting and also can kind of relate too. Love that stuff! 

 Least Favorite character: In Patho 2 it’s Oyun. The way he talks about the Kin makes me really uncomfortable. The animalistic portrayal is for me one of the biggest flaws in the game and he is the worst offender. And yeah since he is one of the Kin, I’m probably not the one who should judge... But I don’t know... from what I’ve heard that seems to be considered a problem by the fanbase in general... Outside of that I also think he’s just structurally very badly included in the game? He appears very late and is hostile in a way that doesn’t really make you engage with him. And I was way to stressed and didn’t get enough opportunities to actually talk with him to really make a connection (though one reason was, that I didn’t give him my house in the first run. Didn’t want to, so I had the pleasure to walk to Shekhen every time to meet him.) Even without the very questionable undertones his constant ranting about strength and leadership didn’t really appeal to me in a game, where leadership just far has only proven to fail everyone in a time of crisis. The way he is revealed as the murderer is kind of weak, since you either figured it out long ago or the game just randomly tells you... He just is very unappealing to me. Vlad the Elder also fucking sucks. But at least he as well as the game are so open about it, that it’s easier to ignore while the game seemed to make me want to like Oyun, while I really couldn’t so this one makes me a little more salty.

 5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): 1. Artemy/Daniil: What a shocker! Narrative foils who have an actual rivals to friends ark in the game and a shitton of sexual tension within it! What’s not to love? 2. Lara/Rubin: I just think they deserve each other. Both of them are very hard working and prone to giving up themselves for the greater good but they are also harsh to others. I think they would apreciate each other but also reign the other person in and care about them. 3. Daniil/Rubin: I just want Rubin to be happy, okay? This one is more a Patho 1 thing, but they really appreciate each others work and I really like how they interact in the Bachelor route. They care about each other and they share a lot of struggles and actually a more similar view on the town and the world than Daniil does with Artemy. Also again we have two very hard working people here, who would have a lot of bonding over weird science projects. (Even if these one are worse at reigning each other in and fights would be pretty horrible to the point of needing a mediator because non of these two are talking to each other and maybe only stoop down to writing very passive aggressive letters...) 4. Notkin/Khan: Also more of a Patho2 thing, since they act way more brutal in P1 and also do not really reconcile. But in P2 they seem to care and immediately bury the hatchet when shit hits the fan. The whole house of the death quests shows them more as bickering friends. And I have a soft spot for bickering friends romances, okay? Also this one is obviously only two teenage boys having a crush, no shitheads allowed here! 5. Yulia/Eva: I cannot really chose between my favorite w/w pairing, there are so many good ones! Right now it’s Yulieva again. They are tragic, they are soft, they are so atmospheric and fun to write! Also I just love Eva and think she should get as many girlfriends as she wants.

 Character I find most attractive: Uhhh... I don’t know I find their models beautiful but there are not a lot of them I find specifically attractive. I guess it’s between Daniil, Artemy, Lara and Yulia for me. Daniil get’s the most ridiculous style points ever but... too old for me specifically. I think Artemy is really attractive but I think his outfit is also really unflattering ... Lara is so much my type and so is Yulia! (Though why didn’t you keep the short hair, queen, it would have made this choice so easy!) I think I’ll have to go with Lara, because I first saw her and just went “I love you” immediately? 

 Character I would marry:  If I assume that the other person would be as happy with our arrangement no matter who I chose: Victor. He is the perfect husband by definition and I want to learn more about time magic. Though this marriage would remain very much platonic and also very much sexless... he is way older than I am and that is disregarding that time is weird for the Kains. Also we have to consider Nina’s continuing existence... okay I don’t mind that one at all.

 Character I would be best friends with:  My first instinct is to say “man all of these people would despise me”, which is such a Pathologic mood. I think I would be best friends with Eva. I think we would get along well and we’d have much to talk about. Also, her house is cool and we could go stargazing!

 A random thought:  I love Dora! She is the worst and most iconic child caretaker of all time and I want to talk about her! The whole baby thing and the way it’s delivered to Artemy is already great but then she just silently takes the baby and gives the reward when you’re there the second time? The time she takes Grace away is genuinely such a good dialogue and a tough decision so that’s great but then, she manages to actually get Grace adopted by a dead person, if Peter is dead! And then she may think it’s Andrey WHO IS DEAD TOO! Seriously, who hired her! I know the entire town is falling apart but man! Dora sure as hell doesn’t help the case. But she tries her best! I think. I hope.

 An unpopular opinion: Oh I have a lot of unpopular opinions, but I think most of them should get their own post, where I can explain in details and a bit more serious what I’m actually talking about. But here’s a small one: Okay ummm… please my fellow burakhovsky shippers, please don’t get mad but… uuuumm…

…

I like the first Bachelor conversation in Patho2 better than the one in Patho1. … Okay, look. I love the “left hand right hand” line as much as everyone else. Wouldn’t have missed it and loved it in Pathologic Classic! And I also think it’s a shame that Daniil’s homosexuality got dialed down. Totally agree with that. But! I really love them starting out on the wrong foot. Their whole dynamic of having to establish their relationship makes their journey and the scenes where they actually reconcile again so much more powerful to me and I love how dynamic it is. And having the two of them completely clash underlines for me how much they have to try and develop to be more comfortable and confine in each other. It’s a great starting point! Also the scene is hilarious in it’s own right. The whole buildup to it where Artemy is in such a desperate position to find out his own kind-of-brother wants to murder him… starting this whole thing with “you owe me” and the whole “Vorakh” thing. It’s really great how in retrospect it’s just a really fucking bad start and a trainwreck of the Bachelor trying to sound competent but from Artemy’s perspective it’s just utterly horrible because the whole town wants to kill him, his father is dead and this stranger is talking some bullshit! Yeah, nobody would have any patience and so the situation escalates immediately! It’s great storytelling and absurd and… I really do love this scene and it’s dynamic and I think it's a great first interaction! (Even if it is sad if people think that they now get the Bachelor. Which… dynamic storyarc… complex character. But I think most people will get that eventually, if they just engage with the whole storyline.) It also makes it a bit more genuine when they actually do act friendly, because you can see, how they act, if they’re not trying. In P1 the Bachelor’s dialogue can feel manipulative rather than friendly and while that has it’s own positives, I just prefer the more dynamic approach of their relationship. To be honest, I think both conversations fit in their own games nicely. I just prefer the overall approach to their relationship arc and I also think it’s just less clumsily written and a bit more memorable apart from the very first line. And while I love it in Patho 1 I couldn’t really see it and it’s sudden intensity in the writing-style of the second game, so I also do not really miss it specifically in their interaction. It’s great were it is but it wouldn’t enhance the situation here.

 My canon OTP:  Victor and Nina. This man just loves his powerful evil and passionate wife and I respect that. I think the way they are described and how Victor would fit in makes this combination so interesting to me. He is quiet and capable and you can really imagine the whirlwind Nina still appreciating him and... it’s so cute, okay? They are in love!

 Non-canon OTP:  (Oh my god, there are so many pairings where my brain goes “what do you mean, they aren’t canon???)  I think Lara/Eva is a really cute pairing that sure as hell isn’t alluded to in the Canon at all. Lara deserves Eva’s positivity and her view on the potential of the soul could be really cute. And Eva deserve her practical care and consideration. Also they are both talking about how they do not know what to do with their live and since they both arrive at this rather depressing conclusion very differently, they might be able to help each other!  Also they could play matchmaking with the local doctors together and I find that hilarious.

 Most badass character: Aglaya. There isn’t really a competition. (Okay Clara is also really badass and one has to mention Aspity for just dying when she feels like she should make a point and for being alive whenever she has something really important to say... that’s also pretty badass and she also is in general.) Aglaya is so powerful and intimidating and armed with metaknowledge. She even knows about her plot armor (and how long that will last...) Do not cross this lady, you will definitely regret it! (Okay the true answer is obviously Teensy. But shhhh…)

 Pairing I am not a fan of:  I’m not really a fan of Aglaya/Artemy especially in Patho2. I just cannot get over her immediately opening the gallows and then breaking Grief down. Artemy in Patho2 doesn’t really feel like a person who would appreciate either and he gets like really upset about Grief without it getting really resolved. (And Aglaya is very unapologetic about it, which might be a part of the truth since we don’t know what happened but still doesn’t help the case.) Also they talk very businesslike and like Aglaya is just making plans which Artemy in mind which doesn’t feel like a good baseline even if she appreciates his insight. It’s still only one person making the decision in the end... But I also totally get the appeal and they are both stubborn, have an interesting way of seeing connections and their worldviews are very interesting together especially, if we think about P1, so I also get shipping them! I’m just not the biggest fan myself.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Uhhh... Hm... There is not really a character I find completely broken and I’ve complained about Oyun enough... So I have to go with Aglaya and only for the reason that I find the ending where they leave town pretty forced. (I’m sorry, I don’t hate her! All of the characters are so amazing, she only has some writing choices specifically that I didn’t like! But I still think she’s cool!) I actually kind of like that it exists and I think the way it plays out is very heart-wrenching and honestly amazingly made but the whole way to get to the decision feels a bit awkward to me just because both of their duties get weirdly lampshaded without making the meta entirely obvious. Either just shattering the fourth wall here or making the situation way more desperate for both of them would have done the trick, I guess.  I in general would have loves, if her meta would have been used a bit more explicitly. It felt a bit gimmicky to make her cool at times and while Artemy might not be the route for that... there ideology talk in Patho1 sure as hell managed that. Their dialogue is still good but I had very high hopes while I approached it. I do know that there is more behind the meta and I wish we could have seen a bit more of that then her offhandedly mentioning it. She never really engaged with her struggle and never allowed Artemy to really engage with it, what also made the whole town fleeing scene a bit jarring, especially if you didn’t play the first game. 

Favourite friendship: I mean the whole apple basket gang friendship, obviously! Is there really another friendship that competes in the game? I love their dynamic and I also love how torn apart the friendship is and how they are only beginning to reconcile even at the end of the game. Not all is good yet but they stay hopeful and I think that is a very strong message.

[danwhobrowses]

Valentines 2020: A Celebration of My Ships

So it’s valentine’s day again, and...yeah it’s not too great when you’re single is it? Considering that I’ve already gone through a tub of ice cream...

But, it doesn’t mean I’m a cynic, quite the opposite. Most of my fandoms involves a ship in some shape or form, hell I shipped before I even knew what shipping was, so I’m gonna talk about some of them...the ones that still make me happy and didn’t crash and burn in heartbreaking and frankly insulting fashion (looking at you Homestuck ¬_¬), gotta mention that these are not all the ships I ship, they’re just some of the ones I’m quite consistently high on

New Entries So with new fandoms come new ships...as is the usual formula anyway, though my pattern of watching things is usually with some delay, I only watched Rurouni Kenshin and started My Hero Academia in 2019, I still hold off on Attack on Titan and My Hero Season 4 because if I get in, I get IN. So these fandoms may not be new, but they are new to me Steven Universe is very new to me, I’ve been aware of how good it is and their concepts like Fusion. I like it, particularly Lapis Lazuli I really relate to her, but ship wise the two I really like are the obvious ones; Steven x Connie and Ruby x Sapphire (Garnet)

Garnet is badass and chill at the same time, but when she unfuses we see the stuff that makes me smile, the pda between Ruby and Sapphire is adorable, the little pecks and whatnot softens me up like no man’s business. Steven and Connie also have the mushy dynamic with both of them deeply into each other but still being strong individuals. The love for each other is equally platonic as it is romantic as they gel together, both being strong willed in different ways. The laughter probably gets me the most with both of them, the genuine laughter is so sweet and so realistic it’s hard not to love. My Hero Academia seems to be our next wave of shonen anime and for good reason, it does high notes so well and the cast of characters are vibrant and exciting. I haven’t hit Season 4 yet since I’m waiting till it’s all done to binge so I may be a little behind on some stuff (sadly it’s hard to avoid spoilers, I know about Infinity and Unbreakable). While I do like Deku x Uraraka, Tetsutetsu x Kendo and Eraserjoke but the two that I find most enjoyable are Todomomo and Kamijirou

(artist nonoko135 btw, bit tough to find a single image with both ships) Fairly popular ships in their own right, Todomomo doesn’t get many hints but they are sweet, naive rich kids with their own confidence issues, it also feels like they look out for each other especially after the final exam they did together. With Kamijirou though it’s probably one I favour if I had to choose between the two, simply because it’s a dynamic I really like; she busts on him so hard to mask her enjoyment of his company and he takes it because he feels at ease around her, the best part is when Kaminari goes 0 volts, he makes her laugh and that’s kinda big for Jirou given how self-conscious and stoic she can be. Rurouni Kenshin was always on my list, I have often heard about the Swordsman with a blade that cuts no-one. The anime is a bit up and down, after Shishio it’s just filler, but as documented in my Redemption Arc post it is at its core a great story of redemption for the main character, and the driving force for Kenshin’s redemption is his love for Kaoru

While Sano and Megumi have a unique dynamic hinted to be romantic at times, nothing can really beat Kenshin and Kaoru, she literally became Kenshin’s conscience, a representation of his hope to be a good man away from the shadow of Battousai the Manslayer. It may be your traditional romance of the two wanting to be by each other’s side in danger but it works so well given the kind of danger Kenshin is often in. Kaoru still strives to protect herself and aid Kenshin in a way that doesn’t make her continuously wonder about being a burden and Kenshin does everything in his power to keep Kaoru from pain, physical and emotional, even if it meant leaving to keep her safe. The main part of what makes this lovely is the fact that not only did Kaoru’s influence make Kenshin value his own life once more but after continual torment in his past she still saw him as the person he wanted to be, and welcomed in a new home, a new family he was able to live a life he never imagined he could deserve. The Regulars Our Regulars are the ships I still consistently ship, they’re not very old but they’re still pretty great and they still stand the test of time. Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. has quite a few ships over its 6 (coming up 7) season lifespan, being the longest surviving MCU tv series and one of the most consistently great shows MCU offered - especially Season 4, some of the best TV was on Season 4. But while Philinda is close, Mack and Yoyo or even Piper and Davis (don’t, I don’t care if you believe she’s a lesbian with the hots for May these are my ships) there is one one ship in Shield you can all rally behind, Fitzsimmons

Even when canon it is a consistent emotional rollercoaster. One of those ships where the writers know you love it and decide to put you through as much pain and emotional torment as humanely possible. But you endure it, because these two smart kids are worth it. They have sweet moments, badass moments, emotional moments and even though they get brought apart time and time again, they still find each other, the universe cannot stop them - and it better end happily for them come next season. Overwatch was a phenomenon when it came out a few years ago, Blizzard may have caused it to have some heavily bad rep but I still look forward to its sequel coming out. Given its large roster and most of the characters’ sexuality and relationship status up in the air, it leaves a lot of room for shipping. I do still love Anahardt, Mercy76 kinda falling due to 76 being gay but I like Gency too, my rarepairs include McPharah and Symmzo but my favourite is actually Meihem.

Now I know, Mei’s only voice lines towards Junkrat are cold, they have differing views in terms of omnics and...due process of the law. But there’s a lot they do have in common; both are quite intelligent engineers having made their weapons by hand, both endured trauma and both love their puns. But even the stuff that make them different can compliment one another. You don’t have to like it, but I do, I enjoy the dynamic of Jamison being so head over heels that he embarrasses himself to try and get Mei’s attention, while Mei softens to the fact that his very nature is warped by his lawless upbringing and that deep down he is an exciting and in his own way sweet guy.  Back to anime, because what else do I do with my day, getting into One Piece was always going to be a long effort, keeping tabs on the Manga does make it easier and I’ve been able to catch up quickly. Ships are shaky territory with One Piece because Oda does make a point of not having romance happen a lot, not to existing living characters at least. But I still have the ones I like; Shanks x Makino, Sabo x Koala, Franky x Robin, Sanji x Pudding, Rebecca x Koby, the list goes on, but my favourite has to be Zoro x Tashigi

May not be up there with the ‘big ships’ of One Piece but I do enjoy them the most. Individually the two are characters I have deep interest in; Zoro is well Roronoa Fucking Zoro, santoryu swordsman extraordinaire, master of nothing happening and will cut you 8 ways to Sunday, but Tashigi is a character I like because she also tries, unlike Zoro she isn’t blessed with 2 years training with Mihawk and she’s at constant arms with this self doubt that as a Woman she won’t be as strong (and probably whoever of influence to her made her believe such a thing), people may get on her back for never winning a fight but she fights strong people without a second thought. But back to the pairing, they have an interesting dynamic; two very similar people on different sides of the law, I don’t think Tashigi continues to chase him simply because he refused to cut her in their fight and I don’t think it’s just her former resemblance to Kuina that gets Zoro so riled up about her, I mean Zoro is usually so chill to side characters to the point where he’s ready to throw down but with Tashigi, it’s different, they bicker but he also came to her aid. I still continue to hope that Tashigi shows in Wano for more Zoro interaction, and to prove herself to fans and to Zoro that she is strong and capable. One of my favourite anime of all time is Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, a combination of laughter, tears and deep philosophical character journeys in a 20th century world with the alchemy fantasy element drawn from actual legit alchemical sources. It just hits all the right notes for me, and ships hit right too; I love most of the ships from EdWin, AlMay and LingFan, but like Fitzsimmons there is one ship that stands above even the main characters, Royai.

Mustang and Hawkeye right from the bat have that connection that needs no dancing around, they care for each other but they work together. Like the rest of the ships they banter, argue but always have each other’s backs, to the point that they go into an insane rage at even the threat of the other being hurt. I don’t think anyone can not ship these two, that’s how strong their chemistry is, even if they can’t officially label it as a relationship because of their jobs it’s that line in the sand that everyone knows it, because it’s impossible to ignore. The Old Guard So we get to the oldest ships in my catalogue, the fact that they could stand the test of time is for a long time what shaped me as a shipper. I still ship these to this day so I ship them pretty hardcore Comics is probably the hardest place to ship something, because different writers will try different pairings at the drop of a hat. Even consistent pairings like Spiderman and Mary Jane, Batman and Catwoman, Beat Boy and Raven, Superman and Lois and more can end up being split in favour of Cindy Moon (I do love Silk), Wonder Woman and others. But I can’t ignore the fact that I’ve always loved Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon

I may’ve liked Teen Titans, but I was never on Team Starfire, it’s fine if you are but to me I have always been in with Dick and Babs. Not only do they have excellent banter but they gel well on and off of crime fighting, no matter how many times DC break them apart (like seriously, how many times do you have to try Bruce and Barbara until you realise that it creeps people out?) they always find each other again someway down the line, they are one of DC’s best couples and while they may never get a definitive ending because of the nature of comics, I still love that there’s a relationship of two strong individuals who can stand as equals and continue to keep their charm and wit after years of being together. When I was young, decades ago as it pains me to type, Digimon was the prime competitor against Pokémon’s tidal wave. Its anime had an awesome opening, more characters with some deeper themes and a quicker pacing. While many could quickly connect to Tai or Matt for their leaderlike attitude or Joe and Izzy for their intelligence or Mimi and Sora for their determination, I gravitated towards TK, a child who had room to grow and the greatest of potential, so when the Dark Masters came in we saw one of my oldest ships take form, Takari

TK and Kari’s pairing was popular that it managed to carry on into Adventure 02 and we got plenty of lovely moments in TRI (though they shorthanded both by having Ophanimon quickly fused and Seraphimon - one of the strongest Digimon - digivolve as backup in a Sora episode). 02′s epilogue is of course a sore spot we can hope Kizuna retcons because these two have been through thick and thin and their bond is clear. Even as they reach their late teens and TK has become master of hats and joined Matt’s band, they still hang out, banter and tease but they still are comfortable to hold each other’s hand and be vulnerable with one another too. Digimon may’ve been a contender, but Pokémon was still the clear winner, even to this day it is one of the most popular franchises in the world. The anime may be an up and down slope (current series seems a tad boring, 10 episodes before Ash caught a Pokémon, plus I don’t like that Ash won in Alola and now thinks he doesn’t have to try) but you can never take away the nostalgia, or the ships. I’ve shipped many in Pokémon in various media; Mallow x Lillie and Jessie x James in the anime, Ruby x Sapphire in the Manga, Looker x Anabel in the games (with Emma being their adoptive daughter dammit Looker you could’ve taken her with) among others and from Pokémon comes the oldest ship I’ve ever shipped, Pokéshipping

Before I even knew what Shipping was I shipped this, Misty may also be mostly the reason for my attraction to redheads but that’s neither here nor there. People may not like it, may prefer some of the softer spoken female (or male) companions Ash has had or feel they’ve grown out of it, but not me. I loved Misty’s feistiness and determination but also the fact that she could reign Ash in (sometimes) to make him think things through, as much as Misty was a companion to Ash she was a rival, a teacher and a supporter of his goal, but she also had her own goals which she fought for as well. They may bicker but they have also had tender moments as well and even with Misty’s return in the excellent Sun and Moon episodes they had their chemistry is palpable. To me, Ash and Misty were kindred spirits and the feeling has never changed since. So with another year of Valentine’s Day going the way it usually does, I’d like a moment to thank these ships, and all my other ships I didn’t have the space to mention, for being something that brings out happiness and a soft joy deep within my being, and for all the fanartists and fanfic writers that bring that love to life Happy Valentine’s Day

[egg-emperor]

(busts through the wall) Also, do you have any headcanons about Eggy as a child and his relationships with various family members (mother, father, Gerald, Maria, etc.)? Pls and thank you

Aaahhh I have so many concepts that I’m not sure where to start but I’ll try to pick out a few of mine to share right now! I just hope I’ve been able to organize this decently enough for it to make sense lol

Some media has said otherwise but it doesn’t count because they’re different canons, so in the main canon I prefer the idea of Gerald being Eggman’s paternal grandfather. The men in the family commonly have male pattern baldness, similar body type, and a thing for well kept facial hair XD Even aspects of their personality and mind, such as their pride (Ivo having the biggest most troublesome ego of all) and their intellect.

I like the concept that some form of Robotnik Corp (Whether it was under the same name or not) existed prior to Eggman’s adulthood as a family business, possibly originating from Gerald. His father was successful in it but it wasn’t a big deal to Ivo. Not when comparing his status as a much more private businessman to his grandfather’s status as a brilliant scientist known by the world. He was bothered by his father’s pride because he saw Gerald and himself as superior with his ego already existing at a young age.

Between the two, it was often his father bragging to him about his work while Ivo rolled his eyes and imagined himself being able to do much better. The only thing his father did that really interested him was his mechanic/engineer work. He learned a lot of useful things for the future by observing him and he got to join in with some of the smaller stuff. His father would hide his surprise at how fast he learned and sometimes did things better than him. He wouldn’t admit that a kid could do better though because that would hurt his pride.

Part of the reason why he has such a big ego besides his intelligence and relation to Gerald is that he didn’t get the attention he wanted. His family was wealthy and he could have almost anything but it didn’t feel special because it was such a normal thing for them. Nothing he could be given was enough to make him feel like he was appreciated to the extent he felt he should be. He always wanted his work to be seen as impressive as his grandfather’s and to feel that much importance more than anything else.

He would go on to have his own success with Robotnik Corp when he was older and it became one of his many sufficient sources of income. But he simultaneously had plans for far greater things, plans to make the entire world know his name and face. He sees himself as much more than his father- a simple businessman in comparison. Nothing like the ruler of the entire planet that he’ll be someday!

I don’t really have any headcanons for his mother. He could have been dead or alive when he was younger but let’s say that for most of his childhood it was just Eggman and his father. Maybe he was never there, maybe he died/left earlier on or maybe he just hardly present. (If anyone has their own ideas that are probably more interesting, feel free to share them with me.)

Both of his parents died without having anything globally memorable to their names and that greatly disappoints him. He would never allow himself to turn out the same way. That’s another one of the reasons why he never gives up on his dreams. Of course, his desire to own the world will never die regardless because he has always known that he is destined for far greater things.

I lean towards the idea that he never knew Gerald and Maria in person because he doesn’t talk about them as if he did. I’ve always interpreted the way he said the ‘could this be the place my grandfather wrote of?’ line in SA2 as him being astonihed that he’s finally aboard it for the first time, or he was at least too young to remember it if he had before. There’s a chance that he did exist at the time since I headcanon him to be in his 50s but I think it’s most likely that he was too young to visit at all.

It took a while for me to picture how Eggman would feel about Maria beside him being rather dismissive of her existence. That was until recently when I read @cruherthedoctor ‘s fantastic fic ‘In the Hall of the Would Be King’ that put a really interesting perspective on it! I can totally see him being jealous of her importance to Gerald. He should’ve been the one to have the luxury of visiting the ARK to get a look at Gerald’s creations firsthand. He thinks he took it for granted, especially since he wanted to go to earth so badly.

He also wasn’t really empathetic towards her having the illness in the first place. I think he has low empathy and trouble with expressing it, even when it is something he has feelings towards, like how he could watch the tape of Gerald’s execution with a blank expression. But in Maria’s case, it was different and he sees her as another to blame for what happened to his Grandfather just like GUN and Black Doom. He was much more concerned with Gerald’s fate and never expressed much towards Maria in general, let alone her devastating story.

That’s how I see it for the main canon but I do like to imagine an alternate story where he did know Gerald and Maria in person. It makes for some more nice concepts of Eggman looking up to Gerald and his interactions with Maria could be interesting!

Young Ivo having the chance to go to the ARK, totally gushing and getting starry-eyed over any knowledge and glimpse of work that Gerald could share is an extremely adorable concept. There’s nothing he’d love more than to learn from him personally! He would do all he can to impress his grandfather with his skills and would learn very eagerly. It would be when he’s most happy and enthusiastic. I don’t see him caring about Gerald’s good intentions for the world. Instead, he’s fascinated with the science, creations, and importance of his work rather than his actual motives.

I think he’d still feel jealousy towards Maria’s importance and how so much of Gerald’s work and effort is for her. He would still think that he was taking her opportunity for granted despite knowing that he had to be there because of her illness. He’d be able to interact with her just fine for the most part. But sometimes he might act a little strange in ways that might insinuate him having a problem with Gerald and Maria’s closer bond, along with the way that he can’t stay aboard the ARK like he can.

Maria to Eggman would be different because he’s kind-hearted and friendly with anyone, so much that he treats those close to her as family like Shadow and the Commander. He would be just as welcoming of Ivo and extremely curious because he’s come from earth. But if he knew of his intentions and beliefs due to his inflated ego then he would try to get him to realize his selfishness and why it’s good to care for others. Of course, Ivo would be very stubborn and not stand for being told what to do, turning it into an argument.

As long as he doesn’t know, he would find his interest in Gerald’s work sweet and his concepts and creations cool even if he didn’t understand them. Even if the way he acts seems a bit off at times, he tries to see the good in everyone and recognizes their qualities. Unless Ivo is blatantly being rude and a troublesome little bastard because then he would try to lecture him and they would totally bicker. XD

Ivo would tell her what certain things are like on earth if he asked and he would actually enjoy sharing his knowledge because he’ll take any opportunity to impress his cousin as he does with his grandfather. He would also love to hear the stories he had to share, using the things he learned to add to her list of what he wanted to experience on earth herself someday.

That was still kind of a lot but I have so much more that I want to share in the future in further detail. Maybe involving more characters too. But this was a lot of fun and I hope this is an alright answer for now! :D

[badlydrawndrawnings]

atwq book four thoughts

guess who somehow got a lot of free time yesterday and made the bold decision to finish reading the last atwq book? me!

guees who feels like they jinxed qwerty’s fate from the previous book of being arrested, but alive, even though i bet daniel handler planned it from the start? still me!

guess who is rather upset netflix accidentally gave a clue/spoiler on the identity of hangfire?

also me.

okay, so first off, to get something out of the way. i love this book. i really do. it had me on suspense every chapter.

theodora figured out qwerty was in vfd (...when did she figure out? not long after sharon reveal herself as a fake vfd member? or during the period she and lemony weren’t speaking to each other?), and god she really was willing to take the blame on being qwerty’s killer. did she think maybe she once again screw up, but this time there was no going back because the screw up got someone killed? after all she seem to selfishly went to break qwerty out for a good evaluation. maybe she thought if things went different, he would still be alive. and given the schism happened, vfd while not divided yet, this is like a sign on how another librarian’s death in the long, long future, will be blame on an innocent party and things go to hell again in the pursuit of justice and truth.

also, ghede and gifford also knew of the coup as well? or at least knew the sbg was doing something and they’re like let them do this shit and we can watch it’s gonna benefit us in the long run’. also, holy shit olaf name drop take two with beatrice herself! i didn’t think while knowing each other young mean they actually hanged out with one another to think they’re possibility friends. this puts the opera night even worse. beatrice must have knew olaf’s parents. with my headcanon of olaf parents being caring parents to olaf and used their connections to get their son back earlier than others, this is just awful.

getting back on track from the mess that is vfd there’s a murder on a train (agatha christie ahoy!). i admit several weeks ago i made the decision to watch snowpiercer and train to busan so i couldn’t really take the murder on the orient express shout out clearly and kept on thinking of the wild willy wonka and the chocolate factory/snow piercer theory. and zombies in south korea. 

all the damn sbts kids just thought it great to share the one brain cell to be on the same train (pip and squeak just follow in their taxi; cleo and jake had to travel through time in the dilemma to catch up with them). ornette got her time to shine with her artistic/sculpting skills and there’s some light on the subject of the lost family (of course it’s a fire that took ornette’s mom life. fires seems to be a way to kill a lot of parents). i was right to call her gung-ho working with lemony, she just agreed to make fake bb statues for moxie and kellar and was like ‘oh shit the two are sharing a brain cell. hangfire could figure something is up what have i done’ and had to make something else to give to lemony. i uh..wonder if seth has a reason to draw her baseball cap all...fuzzy. just a weird question.

kellar’s sister lizzie shows up. i’m going to be honest. she has the bad luck of appearing last and under two disguises that went over my head (she sure fooled me!). i do have some thoughts that surround her and the haines family, but that needs me to re-read the last two books to make sure i’m not imagining something . will say lizzie is much younger and shorter than i thought given her first illustration. i hope maybe a re-read will make me get some new insight on her. also, hi sally murphy. i’m glad lizzie got out with maybe your help (i mean, why else would she want to high tail it out of there).

the identity of qwerty’s killer was something i should have seen coming due to how the mitchum parents are more subdue. i want to slap stew’s parents. they spend all their time bickering they only got their shit together to see how their ‘precious’ son is really a bully and killer and working with the villian under their damn noses. i almost feel sorry for them because shit stew more or less blackmail his parents into covering the crime but at the same time...this call could have been avoid if you pay attention to how your son isn’t the angel you think he is..and you two are still fighting with one another please get your priorities straight i beg you. i admit i almost want to slap stew but i don’t slap kids, and i think if i exist in the snicket world i would get murder first by him.

qwerty’s death and the fact he’s a vfd member just hurt me so bad and i’m still kind of grieving over him. for one, i felt like i should have seen qwerty being part of vfd coming. he’s a sub-librarian. while not a sub-sub-librarian, the fact is qwerty is such so damn helpful to lemony i should have seen he was just doing his best to help lemony because theodora wasn’t honestly...wasn’t doing a good job at a chaperone. but he couldn’t blow away his cover because he wasn’t supposed to interfere in the apprenticeship and honestly he was just happy to be a sub-librarian helping children find what they would love reading.

but qwerty isn’t the only death in this book. i got to copy-paste something from an old atwq post in feburary 8, something i made as a joke, because oh boy, this part is the one negative i have honestly.

he tried to pretend to be her father! i know his voice mimicry is basically akin to juni cortez’s mimicry, but this is just cruel had ellington been there.

about a week later, i made the decision to rewatch netflix asoue. now, the first time i watch season two [edit lmao i actually don’t remember if it was season two i think i hated season two so much i could have blur two and three together i got to rewatch the show again definitely. edit two: okay, i’m certain it was season two i’m 98% certain it was was a pause and read easter egg that’s why i couldn’t remember what season exactly damn easter eggs] i honestly was like ‘so they gave nero a last name. coolio. feint isn’t a surname i was expecting but this is the netflix show this probably isn’t canon to the books’.

on the rewatch, after the austere academy part two ended, i realized something is...off, with nero now. he’s mocking people. and his voice, while not mimicking them, is like...it’s like nero could have inherit mimicry from someone but it never went through. or maybe he did got it but it’s not at its full potential without the proper teaching of someone with the skill...like a father, perhaps?

so the kronk meme is playing in my mind, but it’s the edit of him saying ‘oh no, it’s all coming together’. and given patrick warburton also voice kronk, it felt more like lemony snicket decided to materialize right behind me, be an asshole, and thought it funny to do a commentary on my possible realization hangfire, in the netflix show at least, couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and bore a bastard son in an adulterous affair and ellington has a half brother in the world she doesn’t know about and i hope she never learns about.

(given barrymore feint is just a cameo of barry sonnenfeld, i guess the bullshit gene i talked about in another post regarding a theory who netflix!h is should be renamed the feint gene.)

so reading the third book, and especially this book, i kept a close eye on any mentions to ellington’s dad and hangfire’s behavior. i kept on saying in my mind ‘please don’t be who i think you are’. and bam. armstrong feint is hangfire. i feel like if netflix didn’t have the need to make an atwq reference in nero’s surname, and if i was smart enough to have the book clues smack me in the face (i feel there are clues somewhere, and hangfire dropped all pretenses and just being ‘himself’ in book two was one), i wouldn’t be so angry and upset by this reveal. i more or less got spoil and put the pieces together due to an adaptation, and i should have known better than to do a re-watch while reading atwq. i should have consider the possibility of easter eggs to atwq.

anyway, lemony snicket thought it great to kill hangfire by feeding him to a copy bombinating beast (the tadpoles!!). with ellington right freaking there. with most of his sbts friends there to witness. moxie can’t even look lemony in the eye anymore (no more best friends anymore). everything happened just like that and after finishing the book and taking a walk around the living room, i have to say hangfire is a good villain. he achieved his goal of getting the bombinating beast, even if it’s a copy. he’s a very competent villain who succeed in almost every book in some way or form. he played everyone like a puppet and was a threat that is more akin to tmwabbnh and twwhbnb’s level of villainy. kudos to you hangfire i’m impressed. 

hangfire totally got it coming too. however, i do feel...hurt in his death, if only for ellington’s sake. during the walk because i realize ellington reminded me of a character from a different fandom i’m in. there’s some differences that i won’t get into (it’s...complicated for the other fandom), but they’re cut from almost the same cloth: teenage girls with shitty fathers who are using them for their own selfish goals. thoughts for ellington and her future formed faster for me than for the other atwq kids as a result:

post-canon!ellington (a few days later when she finally gets her stuff figure out), has a simple list. 1: avoiding anyone with a vfd tattoo or give shady lemon vibes -ellington split asap after she and kit broke out and have 100% certainly no one is after them, but not before stealing some things from kit, one being notes of vfd volunteers (she thinks). 2: find a new place to live. 3: figure out a new name that isn’t an anagram, because the inhumane society once they heard the news, is probably going to try to get her if they get wind she is hangfire’s daughter and possible ‘successor’. ellington wants nothing to do with the bombinating beast. she never wants to see the statue or anything similar, or hear the words again.

adult!ellington (under a fake name of course), while accepting all that happened, hasn’t forgive lemony snicket. yes, her dad was a villain. yes, she finally understand her dad isn’t the kind naturalist and man, and used her for the biggest ‘what’ event of her life that is also a very selfish goal. many times in the past though, ellington wonders if she missed any signs of her dad’s descend to who he eventually became, or if he hid it very well to where he was wearing two masks all this time, one hiding his true nature. ellington even wonders at one point, dad was going convince her to willingly work with him without the fake kidnapping and had to change his plans to something crueler.

ellington will never know for sure. this is why ellington can’t forgive lemony and will say it to face if they ever meet again. what ellington hates the most out of her father’s death is that she can never tell dad all of her feelings about his wrong doings. she can ask all the questions burning at the back of her mind, or yell her frustrations how terrible a father he is for faking his kidnapping and getting her to do his dirty work, getting her to use her loyalty of family to do things she would never do under normal circumstances. she ask questions and yells at the only photo left of armstrong feint...

and in the end, she knows he’ll never answer, and it hurts to deal with the unknown. adult!ellington doesn’t do the yelling and questioning to the photo as much. partly because she did ‘settle’ on what might be an possible answer, but mostly because the photo is pretty faded to where it’s less ‘armstrong feint’ and more ‘hangfire’. once in awhile though, she slips up like old times.

adult!ellington with her new life (she travels a lot, pays in cash most of the time, and has no set resident; she still love coffee) tends to think of the past, especially when it came to what she had with lemony snicket. did lemony like her? was she just a question in need of solving? ellington admits to possibly liking him, but it was so long ago maybe she just thinks she liked him to have a ‘positive’ memory of the boy she haven’t seen in years that she kind of wants to see again, if only to yell at him for robbing her of something important. his name lands on her radar a lot, twice from the daily punctilio. the first one was learning of lemony snicket’s crimes, and it was an accident.

the second time, she learn of his death, though she read the daily punctilio on purpose in hopes of a name drop. adult!ellington ended up finding some children’s book, and made the mistake of going to the back of it and find a photo of lemony snicket. not really though. lemony is hiding his face (ellington hates it) and she buys it to know what it’s about. it spiral to where she bought the next two books because she wants to know if the baudelaires orphans are real (and because lemony doesn’t seem the same anymore from his writings). ellington settles on real when she pulls out kit snicket’s notes she stolen and cross references names, and even travels to the locations to them to make sure. after the third book publication, the series goes on ‘hiatus’ due to the daily punctilio and their announcement. ellington doubts he’s dead, but couldn’t help attend the funeral. ellington is certain lemony snicket is alive, because she convinced she saw him at his own funeral.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Seventy-Two: Future ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

Many years ago, Uchiha Sasuke did not consider the future outside of a singular idea. That being the vengeance gained for his slaughtered clan when he finally eliminated their murderer: his elder brother, Itachi. A secondary goal to restore his clan was...vague and half-hearted at best. Partially because he didn’t yet realize just what such a goal would take. Partially because he knew full well that he may die in pursuit of his revenge.

And partially because he had no romantic inclinations until late into his teens.

Sasuke spent nearly every day after his release from Konoha’s hospital a few days after the massacre training, one way or another. Be it practicing his taijutsu, his bukijutsu, his ninjutsu. Or doing extensive study on any subject that offered an inkling of advantage. Seals, chakra rationing, even the history of Konoha and his clan. He couldn’t waste a single moment...because every one he let slip away was another spent with his clan in turmoil, surely trapped in a kind of limbo while they awaited justice for their untimely deaths, from elders to children.

He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let them down.

Beyond his eventual goal, Sasuke took life one day at a time. Get up, eat, train, eat, clean himself up, sleep...repeat. Barely any variation save for whatever obstacles life threw at him. His time at the Academy was spent obsessively studying and practicing. Upon being assigned a genin team, he felt held back by immature missions, and even more immature teammates. Even his sensei seemed too aloof, not giving his goal true consideration. Kakashi didn’t seem to care that Sasuke was so driven. He still held him to the same standards - the same routines - as the dead-last and the annoying girl that was far more focused on him than her shinobi career.

He became so blinkered, that any interruption - any waste of time - was unforgivable. Naruto’s incessant bickering was infuriating. Sakura’s attempts to distract him for her own selfish desires were aggravating. Kakashi’s lack of drive and refusal to take him seriously was a source of constant irritation. Naruto called himself his friend. Sakura claimed to love him. Kakashi, once things got bad enough, tried to relate to Sasuke and his own childhood actions.

But none of them...none of them truly understood. And it was clear in their actions. In no way did they attempt to help him. Instead, they impeded him at every given opportunity.

And yet…

...and yet…

Buried beneath the anger, the hurt, the obsession...was the same caring little boy that fed stray cats in the Uchiha compound, and spoke softly to his classmates, and eagerly vied for the attention of his peers and betters. Because at the root of Uchiha Sasuke’s character...was a deep and unbreakable caring for people.

Why else would be try so hard for people now dead? Because he loved them. Because their deaths were a grave injustice. Everything else? The hatred, the fury, the drive? Was to shelter and protect that ideal from the corruption of his brother. He had to hate him. Had to be angry. Had to strive every moment of every day, or he would fail.

Fail them.

So, despite the aggravations they caused him, despite the impediment of his goals, despite his overall annoyance toward his team...they were his team. They were, in some sense, like family. It’s why he threw himself between Haku’s needles and Naruto. Why he fought so hard against Gaara to save Sakura’s life. Why he tried so hard when Kakashi finally took him for solo training. These people, whether he liked them or not, were tied to him. And he couldn’t deny that.

Not even when he left.

They were the first glimmers of hope for a future. That maybe something could exist for him when all was said and done. When the Uchiha were avenged, maybe...he could shed his layers he’d built up to protect that core.

But until then, to save himself - to save them - he cut his ties. Nothing could hold him back from this destiny. This goal. This purpose that had become the center of his very being.

And just as he thought justice was his - just as Itachi lay dead at his feet - everything shattered.

...everything.

Itachi was not the culprit. He was the puppet. The puppet of the village Sasuke had been born in, grown in. They had betrayed their own, ignoring their abuse and their wants for freedom...and met them instead with blades and subterfuge.

...and what did his team do when they learned this truth?

Nothing.

That...had been a blow almost akin to learning that truth. The betrayal Sasuke felt when Naruto knew that Konoha had killed his clan, and yet still tried to drag him ‘home’. The audacity of Sakura trying to end his path for justice by killing him, to put him out of his misery…? The sheer hypocrisy of Kakashi, too loyal to a bloody-handed village to see why Sasuke abandoned them - they who chose Konoha over their teammate, friend, love, student - was too much.

In that moment...he truly did hate them.

And those dreams of that future died in the fires of that hate.

How dare they…? How dare they?! How dare any of them uphold a system that produced the most virulent ‘villains’ of the ages? Madara, Obito, even Sasuke himself in some minds...all products of the shinobi system and its broken ideas of loyalty and servitude to the state...even if it means wiping out a bloodline long used and abused by the village they helped create.

So Sasuke saw a new future. One with a slate wiped clean. Dead kage, dismantled villages...whatever it took to destroy that which had made his monster.

And who would stop him...but Naruto?

Even with the ultimate powers granted to him, Sasuke still couldn’t best him. It felt cruel. To be once again shackled to Konoha, to the system of shinobi. It was either that, or death. And death was no future.

So...he gave in.

...but not completely.

Upon the return of Itachi, raised from the grave, Sasuke found - at last - his final calling. To see Konoha’s shadows burned in the light of truth and justice. They would confront the council. They would reveal the truth behind the massacre. Itachi would be pardoned and seen for the hero he truly was: someone forced to make an impossible choice by killing the few to save the many. Neither of them were perfect, and neither claimed to be. But both were done wrong by the village they’d been born in. Given so much of their lives to.

And if Sasuke could not change the world...he would change Konoha.

They had allies. The Hyūga stood with them, debts owed thrice over to one of their own. Cousin clans stood together to shed light on the past.

And it was that act that revealed to Sasuke - even if time would have to pass before he realized - the largest part of his true future.

Hinata had been a virtual stranger. There had been brief meetings during clan talks, and they’d attended the Academy together. Took their first chūnin exams together. But they had never really talked. Sasuke had no recollection of her, really, upon his return to Konoha outside a vague impression of a quiet, shy, but seemingly good-hearted little girl.

A girl who had grown into a fierce defender of what she believed in, and the people she cared for. Whose gentle nature was backed by an iron will. In some ways...she reminded him of himself. He had a basic respect for her, especially as she worked with their clan to help bolster them in their singular numbers. She wasn’t overbearing like many of her clansmen, but instead warm and diligent, paying close attention to the needs and comforts of others.

She was...calming. Quiet, like himself, they could sit in a companionable silence when brought together: be it for clan business, or being dragged along by shared friends or acquaintances. Her temper meshed against his own almost shockingly well. And while everyone else walked on eggshells, she simply went on like business as usual.

It was unbelievably refreshing.

For the first time, he felt he could be heard. He didn’t have to bicker with her like Naruto. He didn’t have to know he wasn’t being listened to like with Sakura. She treated him like she treated everyone else. And their parallels served as a basis of understanding he’d really found in no one else, not even Naruto.

Once he realized how well they got on...he sought her out like a plant in a dark room, reaching for a crack bleeding light. Everything about her just felt...right. Comforting. Comfortable. Nothing forced, nothing expected, just...someone who listened. Who understood.

...and then he realized that he loved her. In his nineteen years, he’d never felt love like that before. Love for family, yes. Love for friends, sure. But love in another half? In someone who made him feel...whole?

...he was terrified.

Partly due to inexperience. Partly due to a fear of driving her away. But mostly due to fearing his reputation’s effect on her own.

But Hinata, of course, refuted it as soon as he brought it up. Her life had nearly been lost so many times...and several times in pursuit of a love never returned. But now, she had someone who made her feel seen. Who she didn’t have to fight for his attention. She and Sasuke just...worked. Never had she felt so connected to and understood by someone. There would be - could be - no one else. And she would gladly risk her reputation - or her life - for such a love.

...so he agreed. And together, they took their first steps into a future for two.

                                                         .oOo.

     Phew, finally done with this one! I'm still technically a day late (and probably will be for...quite some time as I do another ship month for October), but at least I'm more caught up than I was lol      This piece is more...narrative and introspective. I love love LOVE getting inside Sasuke's mind. He's such an intriguing character to me. Even more so, admittedly, than Hinata (though I still love her to pieces). I love thinking about and studying his story, and imagining how it could go post-war in another verse with Hinata. Even recently I've changed a small portion of my view of him yet again - seems he's still evolving for me, even after all this time. There's just so much potential for expansion for him...and so much of it wasted in canon by Kishi just sweeping everything tidily after 699. It really irks me xD      But, it's late and I'm rambling! Thanks for reading!

[not-a-space-alien]

Into the Unknown, Part 14:  No Refunds or Exchanges

Prologue | Dramatis Personae | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Series masterpost

On AO3

Well, it’s all well and good to be hopeful.  Hope is the first step to solving your problems.  But unfortunately, the second step is usually some variation of actually doing something to solve your problem, avenues for which Crowley had precisely zero available.  

Crowley spent a good amount of time slithering forward in search of a way out of the Pit.  Then he had a good session of sniffing about and investigating, then a spate of time spent roving and wandering.

He had heat pits as a snake, of course, but they weren’t helpful.  The entire place was hot, glowing in his UV vision like a blazing supernova.  He had to turn it off after a while to avoid the sensory overload.

His tongue flicking out and tasting the air provided an overwhelming array of scents, all jumbled up on one another, an unread story with a thousand layers on top of one another like a hellish lasagna.  He occasionally caught scent of someone nearby, sensing a shift in the air, the vibration of footsteps against his scaly belly, snaking towards it in a predatory way, but unable to reach anyone before they ran off. He called out for them to wait, always, but they never did.  They moved at the edges of his periphery like the ghosts of timid rodents.

Crowley coiled up, considering changing back into his human form.  The forked tongue was useful for now, and there was something comforting about being in his original shape.

The soft tmp tmp tmp of footsteps sounded in the pitch-black.

“Hello?” said Crowley, periscoping up.  “Don’t run away!  Please!”

There was suddenly a bright light, the light of the innermost layer of Hell.  Crowley would have slammed his eyes shut had he had eyelids.

He felt a hand on him, clamping on his neck, and dragging him out.

The light of Hell’s throne room felt like the piercing brightness of Heaven after the darkness of the Pit; it took several moments for Crowley’s vision to adjust so he could see:

Satan was holding him, his coils looped around the length of her arm and squeezing as a panicked reflex.  Behind her was the archdemon Vycra; her face bore a gnarly set of fresh talon marks, and she looked chastised and cowed.

Crowley stood statue-still like a panicked deer as Satan lifted him up to meet his eyes.  “What’s so special about you?” she demanded.

He flicked his tongue out.

“You must know something,” said Satan.  “Some information they need.  Or some ability you’ve kept hidden from me.  Whatever it is, they can’t want you for anything good.”

Crowley’s muscular coils slid along her arm, pulsing with enough force to crush lesser beings to death.  He let out a hiss like a tea kettle.

“Maybe if you tell me, things will go a lot easier for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Crowley croaked.

“Someone wants you very, very badly,” she said.  “And I can’t imagine why.  But I intend to find out.”

********************************************

The group dawdled and bickered about what their next step should be while they waited to be contacted again by Hell.  Which finally happened about an hour later, a message to tell them to meet Satan in the same spot as before, at sunrise the next morning.

The delay was unnerving.  Their precious time in this universe before having to return was burning up.  Three days and two nights it had been, and at sunup when Satan wanted to meet they would begin eating into their third day. They were due back at 7PM, which meant that, if anything in this trade-off went wrong, they would only have about 12 hours to scrape up some alternate plan.

They sent down to Hell a very polite request to meet earlier, which was summarily and unambiguously rejected.

So they flocked together in the eaves of the church like bats huddled up, trying to get some anxious rest while they prepared themselves.

Uriel kept the Book of Life cradled in her wings.  Aziraphale caught her in the middle of the night reading it; it was open to Lucifer’s page, and she caressed it gently, as though comforting a lost loved one.

The morning of the third and final day in this universe came soon enough.

They had decided Aziraphale should appear again, but the previous encounter with Vycra made them hesitant to risk Aziraphale’s physical safety in the same way, so at least one of the higher-ranking members of the group would go with him.

If they all stood there waiting for Satan to show up, they figured Satan would probably suspect (rightly) that it was a trap, get suspicious, and call it off.  Seeing Uriel and Victoria would be a tip off that something very strange was happening and would probably shift the focus of the meeting towards the fact that their un-fallen doppelgangers somehow existed, and who knew how they would react to that?

Again, they were caught up in the unpredictability….They would have been able to have some kind of idea what to expect in their home universe, but this Satan was new, a different animal entirely.  And they had to figure out how to outsmart her, to double-cross and walk away with both Crowley and the Book of Life, unless they wanted to let this universe burn down behind them when they left.

But how to finagle it so they had the upper hand?  What if Satan brought four archdemons with her and matched their firepower?  What if this meeting turned into a battle?  What if she concocted up a way to thwart their attempts to keep both Crowley and the Book of Life, or worse, keep them both herself?  What if she got wind it was a trap and slaughtered Crowley before they could get him?

That led Aziraphale to visions of his beloved being slain as a consequence of their attempts to play dirty, and it sent spikes of anxiety through him. He was tempted to actually give over the Book of Life and let this universe fall to ruin as long as it meant he would get Crowley back safely.

But the others wouldn’t let him, because they at least had some sense of propriety remaining, and he was shocked to discover that was probably the only thing holding him back from such a selfish action.

They eventually decided it had to be Maltha to stand by Aziraphale and assure his safety.  It couldn’t be Victoria or Uriel, and Mykas would probably be troublesome as well. They decided the best course of action would be to mask Maltha’s aura with the angel dust spell.  This would obscure her identity and make it difficult to tell if she was an angel or a demon.  This would likely be better than being up-front about a demon and an angel working together, because that kind of thing was still scandalous and unheard of in this place, and the revelation would, again, draw an unpredictable response from Satan.

All they had to do was get Crowley close enough that they could grab him. Aziraphale would have the Book of Life, and Maltha would be next to him.  They would say whatever outlandish thing they had to in order to get Crowley within snatching distance.  Aziraphale would drop the Book, grab Crowley, and Maltha would fend off any resistance until Mykas, Victoria, Uriel, and Ramial arrived for backup.

They would, they assumed, be able to overpower Satan and whoever she brought as backup.  That was a big assumption.  And they only had to grab Crowley and the Book and then run away; they didn’t have to win the battle, just hold their own. It might, just might work.

Creating the angel dust for Maltha unfortunately required quite a good deal of feathers, which were taken from Aziraphale, Ramial, Victoria, and Uriel. Maltha healed the poor plucked sods because they had taken so many feathers it was doubtful they would be able to fly, but it was still a quite unpleasant experience.

They didn’t have all the ingredients they would need to make the drinkable version of the spell, so they hastily put together the dust version and sprinkled it on her.  They ended up needing to go back and make more, and even then it just barely covered her entirely.  The sun was rising by the time they finished and got into position.

The dead grass crunched under their feet as they took up position, the exact same place Aziraphale had stood last time.  The others were far enough away to not be felt, to preserve the element of surprise, and it unnerved Aziraphale that their backup was so far away.

But he had seen how fast Mykas was capable of moving.  And he had Maltha by his side now, and frankly, Aziraphale had been pretty thoroughly convinced by now of Maltha’s ability to get away with pretty much whatever she wanted, even moreso than him.  Aziraphale and Maltha both had flare guns, which they would set off to let the others know to rush over.

So there Aziraphale stood, the hefty Book of Life in his arms, with Maltha and her masked aura hovering behind his shoulder.  He didn’t dare pray; he didn’t know what might happen.

A towering inferno of flames and billowing white smoke erupted in the distance, and winged figures could be seen in the flames.

“Here we go,” said Maltha.

Leading the way was Vycra, bearing fresh wounds on her face, likely the result of talking back earlier.  Behind her, snuffling across the dry bracken was this universe’s version of the archdemon Mykas, a bearish figure crisscrossed with scars and looking incapable of more than the most bestial instincts.  A chain around his neck led to the hand of—

Satan.  She had a skeletal frame and awful, terrible wings full of eyes.  And in the other hand she held a sack, which writhed faintly.

Aziraphale eyed the sack hungrily, desperate.  He knew what was in it.  Despite the circumstances, he managed a small laugh.  “They just brought him in a pillow case.”

Satan stopped within shouting distance, Mykas on her right, Vycra to her left.  Satan, and two archdemons.  They might be able to win, if the others could get here quickly enough.  A sneer crossed Satan’s face.  “And who exactly might this be, principality?”

“An escort to ensure you play fair,” said Aziraphale darkly.  “Considering what you tried to pull last time.”

Satan’s faced crunched into hatred.  “What kind of angel is this?  What’s wrong with her aura?”

“Don’t worry about her,” said Aziraphale.  “Do you have him?”

Satan reached into the bag and pulled out a black and red snake, hand firmly behind his jaw and out of biting distance.  She dropped the sack and held him up, his thick body coiling around her arm.

The panic in his eyes and frantic movements of his serpentine body broke Aziraphale’s heart.  Crowley writhed and made eye contact with Aziraphale.  Still, he trembled.

Aziraphale thought that he needed a way to signal to Crowley that this was his Aziraphale, not the other one who had tried to kill him.  So he very subtly spread his fingers, lifting his ring-finger up slightly to draw Crowley’s attention to the golden band there.

Crowley’s eyes wheeled about in his head, and he snapped at Satan, trying to bite her hand.  It was unfortunately a futile gesture, but the renewed attempts at escape made Aziraphale think Crowley had gotten the message.

“This creature is what you want, isn’t it?” said Satan.

“Yes,” said Aziraphale.  “Let him go.”

“Not yet,” said Satan.  Crowley’s sides heaved, expelling a fearsome hiss.  “First, I demand an explanation.  Something very strange is going on.  Who is this ‘archangel’ next to you, and for what purpose do you demand this demon, that you would trade Heaven’s most holy artifact for him?”

Maltha’s hand grabbed the collar of Aziraphale’s shirt, and it was only then that he realised he had started forward to pummel Satan’s face in.  “Patience,” Maltha hissed.

“That is none of your concern,” Aziraphale yelled.  “You agreed to the trade, now let’s trade.”

All she had to do was put Crowley down, Aziraphale thought.  Just put him down, and he could slither far enough away for them to reach him before Satan could retrieve him.  As it was, she had a death grip on him, and there was no way to snatch him without risking retaliation.

Just put him down.

“Put him down,” Aziraphale said.  “And we’ll get on with it.”

Satan narrowed her eyes at him.

Vycra drew her sword, laying it across Crowley’s neck.  “Let me rephrase this,” said Satan.  “This demon must be of some considerable value to you, and I stand to lose nothing.  So if you wish to re—”

She was interrupted by an ear-splitting blast from a horn, and all heads looked up to see the sky parting, Heavenly warriors pouring out, led by Kris.

Maltha hissed.  From Satan’s side, Mykas barked and snarled viciously.

“Villain!” Kris’s voice boomed.  “I knew you were up to no good.  You intend to hand the Book of Life over to the Adversary.”

“I knew this was a trap,” Satan shrieked.  “Vycra, take him back down.  They won’t trick us out of our leverage so easily.”

This was the point at which Aziraphale dropped the Book of Life, which landed with an Earth-shaking thud to the gasps of all present, and sprinted with all his force to bridge the gap between them.  He had killed Satan once, and he was prepared to do it again, and now that he had Crowley in his sight he wouldn’t let him out of it again for anything.

The sky disgorged an impressive amount of angels.  Maltha set off the signal for their reinforcements to come and snatched the Book of Life of the ground.  Satan dropped Mykas’s chain, releasing him.  Aziraphale pumped his wings and rocketed at Satan, who was handing Crowley to Vycra.

Aziraphale drew his sword.

Vycra also drew hers.

Aziraphale’s lunge at Satan was easily deflected with a sneer and a wave of her arm, sending him careening into Vycra and landing heavily at her feet.

Vycra lifted her sword to ram Aziraphale through.

This diverted her attention away from the serpent in her hand, briefly, just long enough for him to twist and spit venom in her face.

It splattered on her cheek and hit her left eye.  She recoiled, screaming, but she dropped her sword instead of Crowley.  Whatever damnable reflex was responsible for it, she dropped her sword instead of him, holding onto him like her life depended on it.

Aziraphale stood to try and wrestle Crowley off of her, but she kicked him square in the chest and flung him back.  Crowley erupted into a stream of hisses, flicking venom everywhere, but she had pointed him away from her face by this point.

“I told you to take him and go,” Satan growled.

Vycra’s gaze—one good eye, one swamped with black, crawling venom—went from Satan to Aziraphale, then she turned and spread her wings.

“No!” Aziraphale shouted.

Vycra kicked off into the air, Crowley still coiled around her arm, zigzagging around the descending heavenly forces and veering out of their path. Aziraphale leapt up to follow, unsuccessfully trying to grab onto her ankles before she got out of reach.

Vycra was a much stronger flier than he was, and it was obvious from the moment she took off he wouldn’t be able to catch up to her, but that didn’t stop him from trying.  She rocketed up into a cloud bank out of sight, and Aziraphale followed, breaking through the mist.  The sounds of the freshly started battle below faded with distance.

Aziraphale exited the cloud into an empty sky, panting and wheeling around to try and find them.  There. He spotted the archdemon diving towards the ground, where a portal to the underworld had opened up to admit her.

“No you don’t!” said Aziraphale.  He tucked in his wings and dived.  He could faintly see the serpentine figure in Vycra’s grasp writhing and struggling as they plummeted.

The portal swallowed Vycra up.

Please, Aziraphale thought, stay open just two seconds longer.

It had begun to close by the time Aziraphale reached it, but he was able to tuck and roll to fit through it.

He hit something hard and felt his nose break, his vision filled with white blurs as he tumbled over.  He finally lay motionless on the ground for a moment, his head ringing, then sat up as quickly as he could, vision spinning.

He had made it through the portal, all right, into the infernal dimension, but he hadn’t made it past the gate.  In front of him loomed a massive white stone door patterned with an eye set into a cave wall, firmly closed.  The blood smear on it told Aziraphale he had collided face-first into it.

He wiped the blood with his sleeve, springing to his feet.  Vycra must have gone inside already, somehow. Aziraphale marched around, but the little antechamber was empty, and there was nowhere they could be hiding.

Aziraphale’s heart sank as his brain began to process the fact that he had failed.  He jogged around, looking vainly for some sign that he was wrong, but the only logical conclusion was that Vycra had gone in and someone had managed to close the gate with impeccable timing to lock him out.

He marched up to the door, huffing, and knocked on it.  The eye on the door shifted to look at him.

“Let me in!” he demanded.

The eye blinked.

“I demand you let me in.”

“No,” said a voice, and the eye closed.

Aziraphale beat at the gate and yelled till he was hoarse.  Then, he sunk dejectedly down into a siting position with his back against the gate.

Now this was a predicament, wasn’t it?  What was there left to do?  They were basically back to square one.  Aziraphale’s instinct was to march in and resort to force….but he couldn’t very well do that alone.  Could he?

Tears sprung to his eyes.

No, he couldn’t even get past the gates.  He had failed.  He was a failure.

Wait a minute.  Crowley was still in danger, and Aziraphale was sitting around crying?  When had that ever accomplished anything?  There would be time to feel miserable later.  For now, he had to put his anger aside and act smartly…something he hadn’t traditionally been very good at.

The first step would be to regroup…Except he had left the rest of his party in the middle of a huge battle with Heaven.  His mouth felt dry thinking about it.  Maybe there wouldn’t be anyone else to help him when he got back.

Surely they all had good enough survival instincts to get out of there alive?

Yes.  He had to trust them.  Now he just had to regroup with them.

Except…

This Hell did not have a static exit like the Hell in their home universe had. The antechamber he found himself in was just a smooth unbroken cave.  The only exit was the stone door behind him, which remained firmly shut.

“Oh bugger,” he said.

The only way to leave must be through the same kind of magic used to access it in the first place.  Aziraphale patted his pockets, trying to gauge whether or not he had the spell ingredients necessary to concoct such a ritual.

He thought again about the Heavenly armies pouring down onto Satan’s head. No way Hell would win that fight. Satan would probably be retreating soon, so he’d better hurry before she showed up.

Unless…?  Maybe he could hide and then when the gates opened, sneak in?  That seemed incredibly dangerous, and very foolish.  Maltha, or Mykas, or even Uriel would probably be able to figure out a way to get through the gates; the opportunity to get in wasn’t so rare he needed to risk going in alone.

He got out a piece of chalk and started drawing a circle he supposed might get him back up to Earth.  He laid out the ingredients in his pockets and frowned as he noticed he was short on the prerequisite amount of sulfur needed. Best to try it anyway.

Aziraphale mixed everything together and laid it out, lighting the candles and saying the incantation.  The candles fizzled out, but nothing happened.

“Hmm,” said Aziraphale.

A portal zoomed open in the wall.

“Ah, there we go,” said Aziraphale, paying no mind to the fact that it decidedly hadn’t come from his spell.

Maltha’s head peeked in.  She had a volley of fresh claw marks scored down her face and leading into her neck. “Aziraphale,” she hissed.  “Get out here.  Satan is coming.”

“Is everyone else here too?” said Aziraphale.  “They must’ve gotten not too far, I was thinking we could—”

“She called for reinforcements,” Maltha said tightly.  “You will die.  Get the fuck out here.”

Aziraphale, chastised, stepped out without further argument.

Maltha grabbed his belt to haul him out faster.  He found himself on the roof of the church they had convened at earlier.  The portal to Hell closed behind him.

In the distance, where the sky had been rent to produce Heaven’s armies, the two forces could be seen retreating to their respective strongholds. Satan’s escort had swelled to include an arm of cavalry mounted on Hellhorses, and Azirpahale could sense the presence of at least three archdemons that definitely hadn’t been there before.  The fiery hooves of the horses and the miscellaneous flames on the infantry glowed faintly in the darkness of the black gate swallowing them up.

Maltha was right, Aziraphale would have been trampled.  He tugged at his collar, sweating.  He looked to Maltha, who had plopped herself down tiredly on the roof shingles.  Besides the injury on her face, it looked like most of the feathers on her right wing had been torn off, as well as a few injuries to her arms and torso that had been partially healed.

He looked around.  Mykas was lying out, whining faintly under a crisscross of lacerations from holy weapons on his snout and all over his body.  Victoria had lost her left arm, which had been lopped off just above the elbow and cauterised with infernal fire, by the looks of it.  Poor Ramial was sitting on a pipe with a leg injury that looked like it would make her unable to stand.

Only Uriel, sitting on the edge of the roof with the Book of Life on her lap, was uninjured.

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked.

“They weren’t quite sure what to make of us,” said Victoria with a pained smile. “So we got attacked by both sides.”

Aziraphale sat down heavily, his head in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you managed to catch up to Vycra?” said Uriel.

“No, of course I didn’t,” Aziraphale snapped.  “Don’t be stupid.”

Uriel turned red.

“I see you managed to get away with your precious Book, though,” Aziraphale fumed.  “For all the good it does us.”

“Aziraphale, I gave the Book of Life to Uriel and told her to run to keep Heaven from getting it again,” said Maltha.  “It’s our best leverage over Satan right now.  She still clearly wants it.”

She was right, but that didn’t mean Aziraphale had to be polite.  He glowered without apologising.

“All right,” said Victoria, still breathing heavily.  “So that was a failure.  But we all made it out alive, and we’ve still got the Book, and there’s still time.  We’ve got…” She struggled to count on her fingers with only one hand.  “…eight hours left.”

“Eight hours…”  Aziraphale grappled with a hard dilemma:  if the time came and went, would he go back home and try to think of an alternate plan? …Or would he stay here in this universe, even if it meant being trapped, to try and get Crowley back?

Maltha exhaustedly leaned onto a gargoyle for support, running her hands up and down her injuries.  “All right. There’s no way around it.  I was really hoping there was, but there isn’t. The time for clever plans and bargaining is over.  We have to stop pissing around.”

“Full-frontal assault,” said Mykas.

Victoria nodded.  “Then let’s go.”