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asumofwords · 1 year

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Smoke, Fire and Ash - Aemond POV

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Aemond!POV, thoughts of violence, thoughts of murder, pregnancy, infidelity, talks of assault and descriptions of injuries.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond!POV Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello, hello.... I can hear the hisses again, and the cried of all of your therapists. Here is the second installment of Alys Rivers and our resident man baby Aemond. This is a POV for the recent chapters... Enjoy <3

Harrenhal to Blood Spilt

Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty.

Dutiful to his family, dutiful to the crown, dutiful to tradition. Whatever was asked of Aemond, he would do. Whatever was needed to be done, he would carry out without a word of protest.

Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty.

He would go to the Sept with his mother as a child to pray, and would continue to go as he grew a man. He prays before each and every dinner, and asks for guidance and the Sevens blessings.

Aemond had not been to visit Alys Rivers for some time, sure he had been to Harrenhal, but his time had been spent elsewhere than between the legs of his lover. The Prince found he did not have the desire for it, and so when the King, his brother, had commanded him to return to Harrenhal, even after his most recent visit, he had been most irritated and almost perturbed.

For Aemond did not want to leave the company of his wife.

His zaldrītsos.

For you were beginning warm to him. Reciprocating. Trying.

She will always come back to you.

Aemond had spent so many years as a child going to the Sept, praying that you would return to him. Praying that you would fly to Kings Landing to see him. To apologise for leaving him. For abandoning him. For betraying him. And for the first few years of praying, he had promised himself that he would forgive you, and welcome you with open arms, for your bastard brothers had surely tainted your mind and heart against him of no fault of your own.

But then, you hadn’t.

You had not come back to him, you had not flown over the waters to Kings Landing upon Dragonback to return to him, you had not landed at the gates all fire and fury like he had grown to love, demanding to see him. And so all promises of forgiveness were forgotten, and the promises of justice were soon replaced with something more sinister.

Aemond had waited for you, as a young boy, and had waited for you as a man grown. And now he finally had you, and did not want to let go. For in the short lived moments of happiness, if he could call them that, you shared together now, he saw glimpses of the young girl he loved.

The young girl he knew.

The girl who promised him rides upon Syndor’s back. The girl who promised to fly with him once he claimed his own dragon. And what a shame it was that the first time you flew together was him tearing you from the sky. Almost poetic.

You had always told him he would ride a most feared dragon.

How right you were.

It was not at all what he had planned. Imagined. Fantasised about. But the Gods were cruel, and worked in mysterious ways, and Alys had assured him that it was the only way for him to get you back.

For you to come back to him.

And you had.

And so he swore to the Seven that he would never let you out of his sight again.

But then he did, his hand had been forced, and Aemond Targaryen went begrudgingly back to Harrenhal to seek out the menial tasks forced upon him by his King brother. And when he had arrived, he was surprised to find that there were in fact whispers of rebellion and support for his half-sister there.

For three nights, and four days, Aemond had successfully avoided Alys Rivers, and dove into the work of following the trail whispers through Harrenhal and Riverrun, which was charred beyond recognition by his own Lady Wife.

He had followed the hushed divulgence into taverns, homesteads and inns, and tore the heads from the bodies whose lips moved in favour of his whore half-sister Queen. His sword made quick work of up to seven men, though Aemond had not been counting, and simply sought to rid the heads from bodies before they had been confirmed as sympathisers to the Black cause.

Aemond made quick work of it.

Anything, to get him back to you sooner.

And then she had come to him.

Aemond sat in the chambers left to him at Harrenhal, fireplace raging to keep the chambers warm in a Keep that seemed to be endlessly cold. A Keep that had endless halls, and chambers, and doors, all of which set an uneasy feeling in the Prince’s stomach.

There was something wrong about Harrenhal.

She had entered without knocking, as she always had, and Aemond had known it was her without even turning.

He could smell her familiar scent as soon as she entered the chambers, footsteps carrying her across the room to stand beside him at the fire, as he sat in his chair. She smelt of roses and dusk, and the undertones of the sickly sweet smell of breast milk that lingered on her skin.

Aemond turned his face to look up at his lover.

Alys looked down at him knowingly, hair just as long and just as black as he remembered it to be.

But she had gone through changes too.

Her breasts were pushed up against the confines of her gown, swollen and pert. She was no longer dressed in maids robes, but instead, donned green dresses of fine silk he had made in Kings Landing to be sent to her. Her milky skin had a soft blush to it as she looked down at him, and the tops of her breasts had light blue veins running across them and down into her gown.

One singular, slender hand rested upon the bump that had begun to grow within her.

She was with child.

His.

“My dragon is conflicted.” Alys Rivers spoke, voice low and sultry, hand stilling on her stomach, “I have seen-“

“You have seen it. Yes, I know.” Aemond grumbled, “You see much and more. You see everything.”

“It does not take having The Sight to see that you miss her. That you love her deeply.”

Aemond hummed in irritation.

You had been so frightened when he had left. So small. So weak.

He needed to go back to you.

Aemond shifted in his chair and moved his body forward, leaning his head against the swollen belly of Alys. She carded her fingers through his hair as she always did, nails scratching atop the skin of his scalp.

“He grows with everyday.” She murmured, other hand cupping the underside of her stomach lovingly.

Aemond pulled back and pressed a kiss to her pregnant stomach, huffing a small breath into the gown before sitting back up. His gaze trailed up her body, pausing at her breasts before stopping on her face.

Her eyes were dark and the chambers grew warm.

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

“I know.” She smiled, sitting down on the matching armchair opposite you, one hand on the arm to help lower herself into it slowly.

Aemond grunted.

He hated that she saw things.

Hated that she was always one step ahead of him, guiding him to his future. At first it made him feel powerful, but now it made him feel more out of control than anything else. She always knew what was to come or happen.

“She will need you when you return. Now more than ever. You must go to her.” Alys looked away from Aemond and into the fireplace, watching the flames dance.

He watched the shadows of the fire pass over her face.

“Why?” He had asked, uncertainty in his tone.

Alys did not answer.

Aemond could not sleep after Alys’ unfinished confession, telling him that she had not seen why, only that she sensed it. He had left Harrenhal, without finishing his duties there, the Black supporters be damned. There were too few of them to be any real threat, he reasoned.

The ride back to King’s Landing had not gone fast enough, though Vhagar was mighty and large, she still flew heavily through the sky. At a pace the Prince wished would hurry. But soon night turned to day, and the sun began to rise in the sky.

Aemond watched as the oceans horizon came to view, and the beaches down by the Red Keep sprawled for miles on end. The sun glittered beautifully upon the soft waves that moved up the shore.

When Aemond swooped over the coast and across the water, making his way to the Red Keep from the back, he saw flames.

Large plumes of fire jetting up in the air at random, with no direction of where it landed, or was aimed. The closer he got, the larger the flames became, from once being the size of a glowing candlelight, to now being taller than the highest tower in Maegor’s Holdfast.

There, down on the sandy shore of Kings Landings beaches, stood the Bronze Fury, all bronze, and all fury, shrieking into the air as flames rose higher and higher. The sand around him had been melted to black blobs of dragon glass which shimmered in the sun.

Something was wrong.

You must go to her.

Fear pulled through Aemond as he swooped Vhagar down towards the entrance to the Dragon Pit, her body too large to go inside. He had slid down off of her back, boots hitting the dirt floor with a thud as he landed on bent knees.

And then he was off.

Racing up through the Dragon Pit, long legs carrying him up the stairs two at a time. When the Prince emerged from the Pit and began to make his way to his shared chambers, to you, his mother had rounded a corner he was coming to.

Her arms were thrust forward as she moved to grab him, catching his elbows as she always did, eyes dancing with fear as she looked up at her tall son. Ser Cole stood beside her, out of breath, as though he had run to collect her.

Something was wrong.

“Aemond, wh-“

“What’s happened?” He interrupted the Dowager Queen, voice coming out with heaving breaths as sweat slid down his back.

“You mus-“

Something was wrong.

Aemond pushed past his mother, breaking himself from her grip and narrowly dodged Ser Cole's as he ran faster than he ever had, through the Keep and up to his Wing of the castle.

Something was wrong.

Zaldrītsos.

His heart thumped in his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he slid into the corridor that was his and up towards the door, where the Knight had opened his mouth, as though to stop him.

But Aemond’s hand had snatched the handle of the door and burst through without a second thought.

His only thought, was you.

Aemond did not know what he was expecting to find when he entered the chambers, but he had certainly not been expecting to see what he did.

There you sat, deep in the tub by the fire, hair knotted and greasy, body frail and pale, head flicking over your shoulder to look at him, eyes wide and darkened beneath. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at you, and felt nausea roll through him.

You had sobbed. ‘Kepus’ falling from your lips as your eyes welled with tears, sliding down hollow cheeks, down to your neck.

Your neck.

Covered in the bruises from rough hands.

Aemond sped to your side, dropping to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his legs as his bones connected with the stones. His eye searched your face as it slid down to your neck, his large hands coming to hold your cheeks.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

You had flinched at his hands as they came to touch you, and another sob broke free from the lips he loved to kiss, loved to touch, loved to fuck. Lips that laughed, and yelled, and cursed, and smiled and sneered at him.

Yet when he held you, you let him.

You let him touch your cheeks as he looked you over, eye pausing on the dark bruises around your neck.

Something was wrong.

Aemond’s gaze darkened and the grip on your cheeks tightened.

Him.

It was him.

His brother.

Aegon.

Aegon had done this.

He had touched you.

Aemond remembered times where Helaena would flee to his chambers like this. Body bruised, eyes wet with tears, and frame shaking, and Aemond could do nothing.

Aemond could say nothing.

Aemond felt despair.

“You left me with him.” You had cried.

Left me with him.

She thinks this is my doing.

She thinks I am like him.

She thinks I-

He touched her.

He touched my wife.

My zaldrītsos.

Mine.

“You knew what he would do. You know what he does.”

And Aemond did know.

He knew everything.

Everything that his brother does. And what he had done. Aemond knew all too well. Helaena, the servants, the fighting pits. But Aemond had thought that perhaps his brother would not cross the invisible line that lay between the two.

A line which the King had no apparent care for.

Aemond tried to steady his breathing, the first thought in his mind at that moment was to storm to the Kings chambers and remove his brothers head with the sword that had removed so many other mens before him.

Aemond wished to hurt him.

Aemond wished to kill him.

For what he had done to you.

“You let him. He was inside me.” You hissed at him, anger bubbling up through you.

His little dragon.

“Where were you? Where were you? Where were you?” Your voice crackled and broke, pain overtaking your senses.

Where was he?

Out doing my brothers duties.

Sent away so that he could have you.

Sent away so that he could take from me again.

Sent away so that he could do as he pleases, as he always has, and I will have to pick up the pieces again, as I always have had to do.

As Aemond's thumbs brushed against your cheeks, he struggled to keep himself composed, keep himself calm, for you. But all his instincts did, was scream to end the life of his oldest brother, the King. Be done with it. Kinslaying be damned. He was already a Kinslayer, he was already cursed.

What was another murder?

What was another name to add to his list of sins?

But watching the way you crumpled in his hold, the way you had grown thin, the way your eyes were darkened and red with tears, the way you were bruised along your neck and arms, the way your throat rasped with every breath or word.

Aemond knew he had to stay by your side.

Aemond knew that you needed him.

She will need you. Now more than ever.

You needed him.

And Aemond needed you in that moment too.

To ground him.

To stop him from doing something stupid.

To stop him from murder.

And so he stayed, and held onto you and let you cry, as he stewed in the flames of hot rage that licked at his bones and flesh. Not once had Aemond fought his rage before, but for you?

He would do anything.

Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty.

Dutiful to his wife, tradition, and his family.

But the blood of his wife ran thicker than the water of the womb he shared with Aegon.

Aemond Targaryen was a dutiful man, dedicated to his wife, the crown, and his duty as a Prince.

But a tide was shifting in Aemond where he could not resist the pull.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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msbhagirathi · 3 months

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Word Prompt "Colly wobbles" for the IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta by @arshifiesta.

Character: Kaveri Khushi Gupta, Arnav Varun a.k.a AV

FF: A River Runs Through It

Author: meera30

Reason: Coz I am in love with this ff right now. Now stop finding reasons and read on.

Khushi didn't know how did he do it. It was freezing cold outside in Detroit and here was the man in question giving out a presentation which he had prepared ~in merely five minutes~ before the meeting had to be started urgently.

Clad in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms, the angry gash visible just as a slip of cut, the jacket and the waistcoat already lying on the chairback. Tie hanging a lil bit loose from its usual place. Shiny charcoal colored trousers hugged his legs like a second skin. Yet, he looked as fresh and energetic as ever.

Illegal.

How can he be so perfect?

Why did I of all people had to fall for him?

She knew that her being physically bulky had nothing to do with who she fell in love with. And yet she felt a bit wretched for having fallen for such a personification of perfection.

Sometimes, she didn't know which one was more comforting? To have been immune from his charm and just keeping to herself in college or having badly fallen for him strong enough to keep away all the strangers she had met just so she could forget that one man. And yet, the 'date other men to forget him' idea was as terrible as it sounded.

As she could go no further then two minutes of looking at them and instantly comparing them to him. She knew she was being horribly desperate. But then anyone would be if the man in question was the subject of discussion...

She started scribbling an insignia (for the umpteenth time) in her notepad which she had used earlier to jot down the good points.

"Ms. Gupta. Its good that you are at least concentrating on something but I would much rather that something to be nothing but this presentation."

Arnav Varun was looking at her with that knowing smile as if he had found a key to a mystery puzzle he was looking for. His glasses gleaming at an angle.

Embarrassed at being in the wrong side, Khushi immediately changed the page and looked up at the projector screen.

"Sorry sir."

Did he know?

Had he seen her drawing his name initials in her notepad with such an interest?

What was with that smile?

And yet now he continued with his presentation as if nothing had happened. Voice unflinching and firm. Emanating an authority. An air of importance.

Hey shivji! Why do I have to be the one target that you are never tired of playing with?

The gravel in his voice still used to send chills down her spine in a good way of course.

"Okay everyone that would be it for now. If I happen to have something else I would be calling all of you back. Please be ready for more impromptu meetings this week. If anyone has any questions please do ask or you're free to leave, thank you for your attention."

Khushi gingerly raised up from her chair praying to let her go to a certain someone sitting in the Kailash parvat with his wife who loved creating sweet troubles for her in situations like these. She quickly wanted to slip away along with the rest of the others.

But, Arnav Varun didn't let that happen. He looked up from his laptop at her.

Please don't tell me to stay back.

Please tell me the one thing I am yearning to hear from you for half a decade now.

Please let me go.

Please stop me and kiss me.

Hey shivji! She might have as well become a lunatic by now.

She was about to leave when..

"Khushi.."

She turned back only to find him sitting at his chair relaxed. All tension and seriousness gone with everyone else from the room. He sipped his glass of chilled water.

There was something in this man that made her feel at peace and nervous at the same time.

"Yes sir."

She heard the sound of her voice which shivered slightly.

Don't get the wrong idea okay? I am DEFINITELY NOT scared of you.

"No 'sir' please, just AV, when we are alone."

"Okay.. AV.'

He smiled.

"Show me your notepad once Khushi."

NO. PLEASE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

'Uhh.. I am in need of it urg-"

"Yeah yeah I know you need it I had seen you noting down points in it. But please I assure you I don't eat paper and I would return it within a few sec. Please?"

Khushi very hesitantly held it out and before he could open it to her eternal mortification and second hand embarrassment, Arjun's name came flashing out on her mobile screen.

A whole wave of relief hit her whole being as she excused herself to pick it up as an important call, leaving behind all her things in the room.

After fifteen minutes when she came back to her cabin she realized she had left all her things in the meeting room. She was about to sprint back to the room. When she spotted her things: her laptop bag, her water bottle and her notepad neatly sitting in the center of her desk.

At lunch break, she entered the cafeteria and already found the whole team along with (of course) AV himself sitting at the corner-most booth. She walked up and sat at the chair two seats away from him. She saw his phone lying on the table.

Suddenly it came alive with a notification and she saw the lock screen. A sprawly drawing. Careless strokes of blue ball point pen. Carved into the paper on a ruled page which seemed familiar.

An insignia, which she had scribbled on her notepad, out of boredom, sitting in the meeting room, a few hours ago. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Heat rushed to her ears and a slow blush crept onto her face and refused to go away. She couldn't believe the fact that Arnav Varun had taken a click of her drawing and set it as the lock screen on his phone.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him check the notification and quickly closed off the screen, checking if anyone else noticed it or not and went back to the conversation going on.

Khushi couldn't pull out the image of her insignia on his phone screen. Her mind kept replaying the image and she couldn't stop herself from blushing. Her body had gone into over-drive. Her heart was fluttering. Her hands and legs felt shaky. Her palms felt clammy. Warmth surrounding her face and neck and the rest of her body. Her stomach was in colly-wobbles.

Hey shivji, please, I must be looking like an idiot. Please help me staaaap this blushing, my cheeks are hurting now. Uff. Stupid AV. Stupid me.

#arshi #arnav and khushi #arnav singh raizada #ipkknd #khushi kumari gupta #lol #nothing #ok then bye y'all #arshi fanfic #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta #ok bye y'all

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taranida · 5 months

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Thomas Zane's writing or the lack thereof

The third and final point I left unanswered in my theory about the 70’s.

the extent of Thomas’ writing powers, since as much as it is stressed a lot that he wrote himself out of reality, Barry, with a little research, is still able to find out about his existence, yet Alan in one of the “Writer in the Cabin” TV’s claims “A story is a beast with a life of its own. You can create it, shape it, but as the story grows, it starts wanting things of its own. Change one thing, and you set off a chain reaction of events that spreads through the whole thing.” The chain reaction here never happens: we have hard evidence that both Thomas and Barbara existed.

I guess, I should start with the rules of writing things into reality, that we learn throughout several games.

In AW1 Alan says about chain reactions: change one thing and others will follow, because the characters and the world in the story must be true to themselves. In AWAN it expanded even further with Alan making his, sometimes quite ridiculous, phantasies come true by starting the chain reaction by nudging the reality to fit his writing. One way or another it’s established well enough: each word causes the butterfly effect. Write something wrong and the whole thing will fall apart or twist; forget to add a little detail and the event you lead to will never happen.

There is a bit more about it in his Hotlines in Control:

Be clever. Make them do the work. Form the image in their minds. They make it. You just imply. Incept. They are drawn to the mystery. Obsessed. You set it up, they put it together. Their interpretation. And there's only one, because you give them no choice. And they believe in it, because it's theirs now.

Again: put a detail in and make people do the work. If you do it clever, you don’t need to expand on every little thing, the story will leave them no choice but to accept, believe and act accordingly.

The story needed many beginnings. Many springs. Streams that turned into a river, a flood, and then, an ocean. This was one. Wake used the materials he had. The connections he had. The people. The places. Wake put them in to make it true. His wife. The psychiatrist. His city. These connections, like magnets, moved things. Alice was a conduit. She'd been in the Dark Place. The Thing-that-Had-Been-Hartman sensed her near. Sensed Wake through her. Went berserk. Broke loose. Wake made sure Alice was already gone by then. Safe. The more springs, the more the story became real. The more people believed. Cause and effect. It was extremely delicate and hard work. It had to go through the path of least resistance. Where success was most likely. Where there was a connection already.

Alan always stresses out how important it is to thread on reality, use all the tools to make the events as plausible as possible for everything to fall into place. Yet, much of his writing, that came true, is pretty unbelievable stuff. Mr. Door in the second game calls Alan out on it: the rules are self-imposed, the loops are a choice. My take on it and all the hoops Alan creates to jump through: it doesn’t really matter what you write, the chain reaction will happen, as longs as you, as a creator, believe that’s possible.

Thomas, as it is presented, certainly, believed that he can erase himself and Barbara from reality; believed that this was the only way to stop the Dark Presence, to undo his mistake. And we see that some of it worked to a certain degree, as Cynthia tells us:

“He tried to undo it, wrote himself, her, everything he’d ever written out of the world. He was so famous. And afterward no one knew. Oh, Tom.”

Alan, who was very involved in the literary world, doesn’t recognise the name when he sees the shoebox in the cabin; Barry claims:

“Yeah, okay... anyway, there was an island there, owned by a guy called Thomas Zane. Now, some of the articles I found about him make him out to be a famous writer. But I ran a bunch of searches, couldn’t find a single thing he wrote.”

Thomas’ works are really hard to come by; the only people who read him, aside from those who knew him closely back in the 70’s, are Alan and Samantha, who found poems in shoeboxes, and Jesse Faden, who might’ve or might’ve not possessed a shoebox of his at some point in time. But the very existence of Thomas Zane and Barbara Jagger is quite known.

Barry with little efforts finds newspaper articles by Cynthia:

“Zane was heavily into diving, so much so that the place came to be called Diver’s Isle. But the volcano under the lake erupted in 1970, and Zane went down with the island.” […] “It gets better: a local girl, Barbara Jagger, drowned in Cauldron Lake just a week earlier. They were lovers.”

Randolph, the trailer park manager, acknowledges that Barbara is quite famous around here:

“Sure, Jagger’s a local spook story: ‘The Scratching Hag!’ Comes for you in the dark. Childish stuff like that.”

(Thomas is a legend around Bright Falls too, by the way, as seen from this bit of Sarah Breaker’s dialog:

Not even mentioning the Diver’s Isle, that still bears the name given to it by Thomas’ hobby.)

Barry continues:

“I’m just getting to the best part: all of the articles about this stuff were written by Cynthia Weaver. I asked around, and she’s that crazy bag lady you met...” […] “Yeah, anyway, she knew both Jagger and Zane before they both died and she had some kind of breakdown.”

And we have two of those articles in the guide:

This one mentions Thomas at the very last paragraph

And here’s the one about Barbara’s death

What we need from them are dates. They both were written before Thomas erased himself and Barbara from existence, so why the chain reaction didn’t delete those evidences together with other magazines and newspapers that mentioned him or printed his works? I mean, the way-to-go for writers at the time was to publish their pieces in the press, even Alan started like this, yet there is nothing of Thomas’. The bits that remained are those written in Bright Falls, where the AWE, caused by the last poem, originated and is strongest. I don’t believe that the journalist being Cynthia matters in this case; she indeed remembers Thomas and Barbara, but her previous work has nothing to do with it and had to be erased.

There is also a problem of fighting the Dark Presence off. I have to admit, the more I dive into this topic, the more I question if Thomas even wrote anything about deleting himself and Barbara from the annals of history or tried to fix him unleashing the Dark Presence onto the world. All we know about this comes from manuscripts written by Alan and the only two other sources of information. One being extremely vague on what happen and what Thomas wanted to achieve:

The Poet and the Muse

In the dead of night she came to him with darkness in her eyes Wearing a mourning gown, sweet words as her disguise He took her in without a word for he saw his grave mistake And vowed them both to silence deep beneath the lake

And another telling a very different story:

This House of Dreams

The diver (or what was left of him, his true self) spoke the words of his secret poem. The poem described a new world, an island in this sea of darkness, a safe haven, a paradise, a “baby” universe. The nature of the dark place was such that anything dreamed up there, any dream or a work of art, would come true, just as true as anything in our world can be. And the poem came true and the essence of the diver and the essence of his girlfriend escaped from the darkness and disappeared into this new world to live there happily ever after; while their shapes, his now taken over by a bright presence, as his girlfriend’s had been taken over by a dark presence, surged up, through the opening in the lake to our world, to continue their battle there.

According to the Bright Presence here, Thomas wrote his masterpiece about the new world, a personal paradise for him and Barbara to be happy there; not about erasing all traces of their existence and trapping the Dark Presence in the depths it came from, since both Presences surged up to the new playground.

So, did Thomas even care about fixing any mistakes, except for not getting the real Barbara back? Or was his writing so sloppy, he failed to erase anyone from reality properly and failed to contain the Dark Presence in the lake? And what happened after he was cosily tucked away in his new private baby-universe in the Dark Place with his love? How exactly did he save Cynthia, as she claims, from the darkness with his light?

What horror was left behind?

In my theory about the cabin, I wrote that we are led to believe that Thomas was caring, considerate and aware enough to leave a loophole for him to help when someone, as he predicted, eventually will awake the Dark Presence. The catch here is: some of this information comes from Alan’s manuscripts; some — from the “characters trapped” in Alan’s story, as Cynthia put it. What if Thomas wasn’t any of those things? What if he only cared about himself and Barbara and wrote them the happy ending, leaving others to deal with the mess that he caused?

IN TENEBRAS CADERE

“To fall into darkness”. Indeed, in the memory of a very questionable poet.

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #alan wake game #alan wake ii #alan wake remastered #rcu theory #remedy connected universe #remedy entertainment #remedy games #thomas zane #tom zane

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adventure-showdown · 10 months

Text

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

The Stolen Earth/Journey's End and Day of the Doctor tied. These are the 12 stories that were closest to making it through and so have been given a second chance

ROUND 3 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

The End of the World

Synopsis

The Ninth Doctor takes his new companion, Rose Tyler, to the year 5,000,000,000 to see the sun expand and destroy the Earth. The observation deck space station, Platform One, is holding an event with the richest beings of the time observing the Earth's destruction, but mysterious metal spiders gifted by the Adherents of the Repeated Meme to the other guests are secretly infiltrating and sabotaging the station.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

Father’s Day

Synopsis

Pete Alan Tyler, the father of Rose and husband of Jackie, died on 7 November 1987, the day of Stuart Hoskins and Sarah Clark's wedding. Rose was just a baby at the time, Jackie told the young Rose that nobody was there for Pete when he died and that the hit-and-run driver was never found...

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Runaway Bride

Synopsis

Killer Santas, exploding baubles, an alien spaceship shaped like a giant star — Christmas with the Tenth Doctor is anything but a silent night...

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

Gridlock

Synopsis

The Tenth Doctor takes Martha Jones to New Earth, in the far future, only to find that the entire city has become a deadly trap.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End

Synopsis

When Earth and twenty-six other planets are stolen and taken to the Medusa Cascade and the Doctor is nowhere in sight, it's up to the combined forces of UNIT, Torchwood, Sarah-Jane and Rose to fight off the thieves, who only have one thing to say to the resistance: "EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"

Propaganda

I will never get over the woman who thinks she's nothing being the most important person in the universe, and the huge loss she suffered immediately after. So bright and so dark at the same time. So much happiness and so much sadness. Excellently done 10/10 (NikMONSTER)

The Eleventh Hour

Synopsis

After a literally explosive regeneration, the brand new Eleventh Doctor survives a crash-landing to Earth. However, he has little time to recover. With a mysterious crack in a little girl's wall and a missing alien prisoner, the Doctor is in for an adventure. However, with the TARDIS damaged and the sonic screwdriver destroyed, can the Doctor capture the rogue alien before its jailers burn Earth to a crisp?

Propaganda

Omg i love this ep so much. It was the absolute perfect way to introduce the new doctor to the show; Matt had some big shoes to fill after David but he did so perfectly in this episode. All of the other doctors I had to get used to, and I especially thought I’d have to following my fav ten, but i immediately fell in love with 11 with this episode. I also feel like this was a great plot overall and I loved both Amy and Rory in it. (@lavenderlace16 )

The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone

Synopsis

The enigmatic River Song hurtles back into the Eleventh Doctor's life, but she's not the only familiar face returning — the Weeping Angels are back! Following River's calling card, the Doctor is recruited to help track down the last of the Angels, which has escaped from the Byzantium starliner and into the terrifying Maze of the Dead.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

Amy’s Choice

Synopsis

It has been five years since Amy Pond last travelled with the Eleventh Doctor. However, when he arrives by accident and they have a reunion, Amy is left questioning what is real. Is she actually living with her husband Rory in Leadworth, 2015, or is she still travelling with Rory and the Doctor in the TARDIS? Which is real and which is fake? Dream or reality? Only one thing is clear: it's Amy's choice.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Doctor’s Wife

Synopsis

The Eleventh Doctor receives a message from an old Time Lord friend. The message brings him, Rory Williams and Amy Pond to another universe where they meet an alien who eats TARDISes.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Girl Who Waited

Synopsis

The Eleventh Doctor, Rory Williams and Amy Pond land on Apalapucia in the middle of a plague. Amy is left behind, and the Doctor and Rory must save her...but time for Amy is running at a different speed.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The God Complex

Synopsis

The Eleventh Doctor, Amy, and Rory investigate a hotel of horror where repeat business is low but the body count is high, where a mighty monster stalks the corridors and the rooms hold visions of angels, apes, and creepy clowns. Who — or what — has brought them to this place? Can the Doctor solve the mystery before the residents check out in grisly style?

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Day of the Doctor

Synopsis

The Doctors embark on their greatest adventure in this 50th-anniversary special. In the 21st century, something terrible is awakening in London's National Gallery; in 1562, a murderous plot is afoot in Elizabethan England; and somewhere in space, an ancient battle reaches its devastating conclusion. All of reality is at stake as the Doctor's own dangerous past comes back to haunt him.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

#okay im upping the number in tie break groups from 10 to 12 #definitely not so one of my favourites #the girl who waited makes the cut #in fairness this is the first of round 3 #and i can change the rule between rounds #im voting for girl who waited #but I think father's day would be another worthy winner #or any of the 11th Doctor ones honestly #the only one that didn't get eliminated was against another 11th doctor #which as an 11th doctor enjoyer #devestating #and a little unfair #round 3 #tiebreak

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xxsquideyesxx · 1 year

Text

The pain of love - Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader (oc)

characters: Aemond targaryenxOc, past!Aemond Targaryenx Alys River, Future!HelaenaTargaryen xAemondTargaryen, Visenya Targaryen, Oc!Targaryen

Warnings: cheating, sad story with a hopeful ending, this is really angsty. Also I want you to know that HelaenaxAemond is for Helaena's safety, but Aemond never slept with her or anything, he just wanted her as a sister, it was more a way to keep his sister alive since the greens were losing. Visenya lives and is queen which means all of Rhaenyra and Daemon's children as lo Strong died in the war. After what Aemond did, he practically lived in selibate.The only living greens left were Helaena and her children who gave up their claim to the throne, and Aemond who became black. Lucerys died at the hands of Aegon II because I want it to be so.

Note:This is the first time I write about The Dragon House, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes or errors. I hope you like it and if you want me to keep writing about this fandom or tag me in my next ones please share and give it a heart. It would help me to reblog and comment thank you! English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes.

_____________________________________________

In the dark days of the Kingdom of the Seven Kingdoms, when the shadow of the dragon loomed over the land, Prince Aemond Targaryen was in his prime. A brave and reckless knight, with silver hair and purple eyes, Aemond was a man whose destiny was intertwined with fire and honor.

Prince Aemond was married to the beautiful Lady Miriam, a lady of noble birth. With her golden hair and porcelain skin, she radiated incomparable sweetness and grace. However, although Aemond had pledged eternal fidelity to his wife, human passions are a wild torrent that sometimes sweep away even the strongest.

On a cold and dreary night, Aemond encountered the witch Alys Rivers, whose black hair and dark eyes reflected her unsettling power. Alys had a gift for mysteries and the forbidden arts. Her enigmatic figure attracted the prince like an irresistible magnet.

"Prince Aemond, you have awakened my darkest desires," Alys whispered with a captivating smile. "I know you have sworn allegiance to Lady Miriam, but love can be a dangerous maze."

Aemond, in his pride and weakness, fell to Alys' temptation. Together, they indulged in a forbidden passion and their secret encounters multiplied. But, like flames burning in fire, deception can never be hidden for long.

Time passed and Aemond began to realize the darkness that surrounded him. His love for Miriam had faded into the shadows of betrayal, and guilt weighed on his soul like a crown of thorns.

One day, when Aemond finally decided to end his infidelity and confess his sins to his wife, tragedy struck mercilessly. Lady Miriam gave birth to her son, but her life faded away along with the last breath of life she gave to her child.

Agony filled Aemond's heart as he held his son in his arms, a child destined to grow up without his mother's sweet guidance. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cried out to heaven, begging for a second chance to make amends for his mistakes.

"Forgive me, Miriam. My greed and selfishness have torn us from your arms," Aemond whispered, his voice cracking with regret. "I swear by the gods old and new that I will protect our son and raise him with love and honor."

The death of Lady Miriam was the bitter price Aemond paid for his selfish acts. But from that day on, the prince redeemed himself and became a dedicated father and an exemplary knight.

Years later, Aemond and Miriam's son, Prince Rhaegon, grew up under his father's care and love. Aemond taught him the values of loyalty, sacrifice and righteousness. Together, father and son became a unifying force, restoring hope to a kingdom that had been devastated by treachery and war.

_____________________________

Prince Aemond Targaryen learned that true love is not just a fleeting feeling, but an unwavering commitment. Though he had fallen into the clutches of temptation, he found redemption and built a legacy based on truth and loyalty. Aemond would never forget the price he paid for his deception, but his pain became an eternal flame that drove him to be a better man and an exemplary father.

The days after Lady Miriam's tragic death were somber and filled with grief for Prince Aemond Targaryen. Grief and remorse coiled in his heart, while the flames of guilt consumed his dreams each night. On one particular night, Aemond was plunged into a deep and vivid sleep, where he was transported to an ethereal and mystical realm. There, in a landscape bathed in a heavenly light, he found lady Miriam, radiant and wrapped in a soft white robe.

"I know the truth, Aemond," whispered lady Miriam, her voice echoing in the air like a sweet and distant melody. "I know of your treacherous acts, but I also know of your sincere repentance."

Tears welled up in the prince's eyes as he knelt before her. "My beloved Miriam, my heart is full of remorse and pain. I can never forgive myself for the harm I have caused you."

Miriam's smile was compassionate and full of love. "Aemond, although my life was taken from me too soon, the time we shared together was filled with happiness and joy. The love I felt for you transcends even death."

Aemond looked up, his eyes red and swollen from crying, searching for answers. "Do you forgive me, Miriam, despite all I have done?"

An aura of peace and forgiveness surrounded Miriam as she extended her hand toward him. "My dear husband, life is a road full of mistakes and learning. We all make mistakes and what matters is how we pick ourselves up and redeem ourselves. I forgive you, Aemond. Allow me to carry that weight of your actions and leave in peace."

Miriam's words resonated deep within Aemond's being, filling him with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. He took Miriam's hand, feeling its soft, comforting warmth.

"I promise you, Miriam, that I will dedicate the rest of my life to honoring your memory and raising our son with love and righteousness," Aemond whispered with determination.

Miriam nodded with a smile filled with pride and tenderness. "I know you will keep that promise, Aemond. The future of our house depends on you."

The dream slowly began to fade, and Aemond clung desperately to the image of Lady Miriam. He knew he had to face reality and assume his new role as father and leader.

Upon awakening, Aemond found himself with a new sense of purpose. He remembered Miriam's words in his dream and found comfort in her forgiveness. He vowed to honor her every day of his life and become the man she always knew he could be.

From that day forward, Prince Aemond Targaryen carried Miriam's memory with him every step he took. With a heart full of love and gratitude, he vowed to be a beacon of hope and righteousness in a kingdom ravaged by darkness.

As the years passed, Prince Rhaegon Targaryen, son of Aemond, grew into a brave and handsome knight. His heart, however, belonged to Princess Visenya, daughter of his uncle Daemon Targaryen and his sister Rhaenyra Targaryen. From the moment they met, the spark of love ignited between them, like a fire burning unchecked.

Aemond watched intently the blossoming of love between his son and Visenya. He saw in Rhaegon's eyes the same passion and devotion he had felt for Lady Miriam. His heart was filled with joy and at the same time with concern, for he knew all too well the complications that could arise from a love entangled in the tangle of his family's history.

When Rhaegon decided to court Visenya, Aemond offered his advice and support. He knew that his son was brave and wise, capable of making decisions that would lead to a prosperous future for both of them. Thus, Rhaegon and Visenya met secretly, under the blanket of the starry night, swearing eternal love to each other at every encounter.

Finally, the day came when Rhaegon and Visenya decided to unite their destinies in marriage. It was a time of celebration and hope, but also of trepidation, for the shadow of the Dance of Dragons still lurked in the kingdom.

Aemond made sure that his son's wedding was splendorous and memorable. The seven kingdoms gathered to witness the union of two powerful lineages, and promises of eternal love were sealed with oaths and blessings.

As the war between Queen Rhaenyra and her uncle Aegon progressed, Aemond found himself at a crossroads. His loyalty to his sister and his family was strong, but he also recognized that he could not betray the sacred vows he had made to Lady Miriam.

He decided to protect and respect his sister Helaena Targaryen, though he knew he could never love her the way he had loved Miriam. He took her hand in marriage, sealing a pact of loyalty and care, but in his heart, the memory of Lady Miriam still burned like an eternal candle.

The war came to an end with the death of Aegon and Rhaenyra, and peace settled over the Seven Kingdoms once more. Aemond, however, knew that his time was running out. As he grew older, he felt the weight of his promise to Miriam grow stronger, and his desire to join her in the afterlife grew stronger every day.

Finally, the time came for his departure. With his heart filled with honor and faithfulness to Miriam, Aemond said goodbye to his loved ones and closed his eyes for the last time.

The entire kingdom mourned the loss of a noble prince and a brave knight. His legacy was marked by his dedication to the memory of Lady Miriam and his unconditional love for his son and sister.

In the annals of history, the name of Aemond Targaryen was remembered as a man who sacrificed his own happiness for the welfare of his family. His life was a testament to honor and loyalty, and his death was the ultimate act of love for his beloved Miriam, joining her in eternity.

Visenya's coronation as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms marked a new chapter in the history of House Targaryen. Alongside her, Rhaegon assumed his role as king consort, ready to support his beloved in all her decisions.

With the coronation of Visenya as queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Rhaegon as king consort, hope and love bloomed once again in the land. The years passed and the fruits of their love materialized in two children: Aemond II and Miriam II.

Fate, with its curious irony, intertwined the paths of Aemond II and Miriam II in an unexpected way. From a young age, the two royal heirs met and discovered a deep and special bond that transcended kinship. In their hearts, a pure and genuine love began to grow, defying the rumors and shadows of the past.

The people, captivated by the history that seemed to be repeating itself, watched the relationship between the two young heirs with suspicion and hope. Some feared that tragedy might repeat itself, while others were confident that this time fate would grant them a lasting and happy love story.

Finally, Aemond II and Miriam II decided to marry, defying the doubts and fears that surrounded them. United by love and determination to build a better future, they vowed to rule the Seven Kingdoms in love and harmony, following the legacy of their ancestors.

Under their reign, the Seven Kingdoms flourished in an era of peace and prosperity. Aemond II and Miriam II ruled with wisdom, justice and compassion, guided by the love they shared and the lesson of their predecessors. The townspeople found hope in their union and saw in them a symbol of hope and redemption.

The story of Aemond II and Miriam II became a legend in the Seven Kingdoms. Their unwavering love and dedication to their people were admired and remembered for generations. Their reign marked a new chapter in history, where love and commitment became the pillars of a unified kingdom.

And so, in the heart of the Seven Kingdoms, Aemond II and Miriam II ruled together, building a legacy of love and harmony. Their story proved that, despite adversity, true love can prevail and that even in the darkest of times, there is hope for a bright and promising future.

And so, their love endured through time, uniting the Seven Kingdoms under their reign and leaving a legacy of everlasting love.

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mermaidsirennikita · 2 months

Note

Historical fiction where one of the MC is a widow/widower?

Thanks

Oh, so many!

Elizabeth Hoyt:

The Raven Prince—Widow heroine and widower hero, she had a shitty husband and he had a wife who was disgusted by his hideous scars~ (from smallpox). One thing I like about this book is that she really isn't like... ashamed of her desires. She wants him, so she goes after him. In this case by wearing a mask and dressing up as a sex worker at his favorite brothel.

Scandalous Desires—Silence is a widow of the "my husband sucked and I'm very innocent because of Morality" persuasion... She's a Quaker, the hero is a river pirate, she's been raising his baby who he dumped at an orphanage and now he's demanding the baby back because his enemies may use her against him... So naturally, Silence goes WITH the baby. And gets seduced. And has her brains fucked out.

Thief of Shadows—Isabel is a jaded society widow who actually took lovers after her husband's death, gasp. She falls in love with virginal vigilante Winter Makepeace, who's also six years younger than her. This book has a refreshingly real approach to infertility, but beware, it is quite emotional, so if that's triggering for you maybe skip it.

Lord of Darkness—This one actually isn't one of my FAVORITE Hoyts, but a good Hoyt is still better than a lot of other people's "very good" books. The hero is a widower, the heroine is his second wife who he married due to a blackmail situation. She was pregnant by another man when they wed, and quickly miscarried, which results in them living apart for several years... Until she arrives, demanding a baby. Too bad Godric is a vigilante

Duke of Pleasure—The hero is a widower, but I'd be lying if I told you I remembered a ton about his marriage lol

Jennifer Ashley:

The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie—Beth is a widow who loved her husband, which is one reason why she actually wants to start getting FUCKED again

The Many Sins of Lord Cameron—Cameron is a widower with a teenage son. His heroine is also a widow, though she didn't particularly love her husband. Cameron's wife was abusive and the book DOES get into that. It was intense. So keep an eye out.

The Duke's Perfect Wife—Hart Mackenzie is a widower who lost his wife and infant son when she was giving birth. He didn't super love his wife (the heroine is his fiancee who dumped him, which led to him getting married to another woman—he never got over Eleanor) but he's clearly very much traumatized by the loss of her and the baby.

Rules for a Proper Governess—The hero is a widower with two children, the heroine is his new governess. He very much loved his wife and the unresolved shit surrounding her death is a plot point.

S.M. LaViolette:

Selina—The hero is a widower. He and his wife had a shitty relationship, but her death and his guilt surrounding it (they were in a HORRIBLE carriage accident, which also left him blind) is a big deal.

Aurelia—The hero was twice-widowed. Neither marriage was super great, but the second is particularly wild because the heroine DIED getting attacked by a PANTHER while FUCKING HER LOVER LMAO. I mean. I gotta give points for that.

Joss and The Countess—Alicia is twice-widowed. Her first husband was kind, but her second was SUPER abusive, physically and sexually. Nothing on the page, but it's a big part of the plot, so be aware.

The Footman—Heroine is a widow, husband was very abusive, this is on the page in her memories.

Hyacinth—I believe the hero is a widower in this one, and the marriage was Tough Times.

The Music of Love—The heroine is a widow whose husband died MYSTERIOUSLY before she goes to take a position as a much teacher that he picked up just before he died

Grace Callaway:

The Duke Who Knew Too Much—Hero is a widower, the marriage wasn't great (a lot of Callaway widower heroes have shitty dead wives, which isn't my FAVORITE trope, but I'll put up with it for her)

M is for Marquess—The hero is a widower, and his wife was of the "your mild kinkiness is ungodly and I'm gonna make it everyone's problem" variety.

Olivia and the Masked Duke—Hero is a widower, heroine got him into some bad shit, it was a bad marriage all around

Fiona and the Enigmatic Earl—Hero is a widower who's sworn off love because of his rocky first marriage, then oops he gets married lol

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets—Heroine is a widow, shitty first husband, reunites with her childhood sweetheart

Her Protector's Pleasure—The heroine is a widow whose abusive husband separated her from her daughter; she enlists the hero to help her find the kid

Lorraine Heath:

When the Duke Was Wicked—Lovingdon is a great widower hero. He actually loved his wife, he lost her and their daughter at the same time, and he's so traumatized about it that he runs around fucking anything that moves... because he'll never love again. BUT WHAT IF HE DOES???

The Earl Takes All—Julia is a widow, but she doesn't know it, because this is GORILLA TWINS! and her husband's twin brother is pretending to be him to prevent her from losing her baby

The Duchess in His Bed—The heroine is a recent widow who enlists the hero to get her pregnant after her husband dies so that she can have his heir

Between the Devil and Desire—Olivia is a recent widow, and Jack is her son's new guardian who she HATES because he's a SCOUNDREL. One of my favorite books!

Julie Anne Long:

The Perils of Pleasure—The heroine lost her husband and child, who she loved, and is traumatized by it

Lady Derring Takes a Lover—Heroine is a widow with a cheating husband who starts running a boarding house with said dead husband's mistress

After Dark with the Duke—Frosty widower hero with a grown son who falls for a scandalous opera singer

What I Did for a Duke—Hero is a bitter widower who lost both his wife and their child

Lisa Kleypas:

Lady Sophia's Lover—Ross Cannon is a widower. It's been a while, but I believe he's of the "I loved my wife and shall never love again" variety

Cold-Hearted Rake—The heroine is a recent widow whose husband did not in fact have sex with her before she died, lol

Monica McCarty:

The Viper—The hero is of the "my evil wife" variety, and the heroine is of the "my shitty husband" variety

The Chief—The hero is a widower with two sons you NEVER SEEN ON THE PAGE LOL, he's pretty frosty

The Recruit—The heroine had a shitty husband who's turned her off of marriage, which is why (among other things) she's not particularly psyched to marry the hero after he gets her pregnant lol

A Rake's Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden—The heroine is a widow whose marriage wasn't great. She's depressed, and the hero is her brother's best friend who realized he was interested in her just before she got engaged.

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb by Cat Sebastian—Kit is a widower who loved his wife and child. He falls in love with Percy, a dandy who asks him to teach him how to rob his dad lmao... The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes also has a widow heroine... but in a rather unique way

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera—The is an f/f romance, one of the heroines is a widow who had a unique relationship with her husband.

The Widow's Kiss by Jane Feather—The hero is a widower and the heroine is a widow who he begins to investigate after her FOURTH husband dies lol

The Duke I Tempted by Scarlett Peckham—The hero is a widower who also, I believe, lost his son.

The Earl's Mistress by Liz Carlyle—The hero is a widower who had a difficult relationship with his wife; he has a six year old daughter. The heroine is a widow whose husband was a dick. She's very innocent because he didn't give a fuck about her pleasure, but she's not a virgin.

In Which Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint by Alexandra Vasti—Widower hero who's a bit kinky and a heroine who is vERY much interested in kink.

Her Night with the Duke by Diana Quincy—The heroine is a widow who hooks up with a guy in a random one night stand.... then it turns out that he's about to get engaged to her stepdaughter

A Lady Awakened by Cecilia Grant—The heroine is a widow who had a frigid relationship with her husband. She decides to save her financial situation by getting pregnant with his heir... even if that means enlisting a local loser. FAST.

Duchess by Day, Mistress by Night by Stacy Reid—Has a widowed heroine who enlists the fixer hero to help her find her son's missing governess

For My Lady's Heart by Laura Kinsale—The heroine had a good, if not romantic relationship with her husband. Now she's frosty and withholding.

A Shore Thing by Joanna Lowell—The heroine is a widow whose uptight, withholding husband left her feeling like she was less than. She falls for the hero, a trans man, on a WILD BICYCLE RACE!!!! And he sure does blow her mind...

What Happens in Scotland by Jennifer McQuiston—The heroine is a widow who wakes up married to a lawyer in Scotland lol

The Harlot Countess by Joanna Shupe—The heroine is a widow who married out of necessity; now she's back in the orbit of the man she tangled with BEFORE that marriage

#romance novel blogging #book recs #romance novels

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teshadraws · 1 year

Text

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 48]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

Nia and Tobias reach Shivergleam. However, they may not be ready for the information Edme has to offer.

Nia kicks her legs over the side of the boat, tucked securely against the railing. Evening sunlight is filtered weakly through cloud cover, but still warm on her back. The river below her is as swift and swollen as it has been the whole trip, rocking the ferry in uneven motions, but she finds it oddly soothing.

Her curious eyes are trained on the crew working to navigate the dangerous waters. Beck and Nori are swimming ahead of the ferry, sleek flashes of orange and blue weaving back and forth to check for underwater obstructions that could hinder their travel. Occasionally, Nia sees the two Pokemon work together to push a downed tree aside and clear the way.

The captain, Cordelia, is steering them slowly through the treacherous waters, staying to the outside of the river to keep to deeper channels. Well, at least that’s what Cas said she was doing when Nia talked to him earlier. The little duck clearly admires the brash crocodile, and proudly answers all of Nia’s questions about the ferry and how it’s run. Since they’ve been riding for a little over a day now, they’re finally nearing their destination of Shivergleam, at least according to Beck when he was on break earlier.

Nia has honestly enjoyed their trip downstream. Traveling by boat is new and exciting, and she loves watching the crew work around one another like a well-oiled machine. And last night when they’d had to stop as darkness set in, Nia had enjoyed getting to talk to the crew over supper.

Cordelia is a bit brash, but it’s clear she loves her job and her crew—plus, she tells one heck of a story. Nori the golduck, on the other hand, rarely speaks, instead communicating in dry looks. Cas seems more like a little cousin tagalong than an actual crewmate, too young to do much heavy lifting, but the rest of the boatsmon clearly love having him around. Even Ignatius, the quiet, sarcastic old torkoal is grounding in his own way.

While none of the crew have been unwelcoming, Beck the floatzel has been Nia’s favorite to get to know. The older Pokemon is clearly the most sociable of the bunch, asking Nia and Tobias about where they’re from and where they’re heading with genuine interest. When Nia had mentioned the Lexym Guild, the weasel’s brows had lifted. He’d explained with a smile that the guild is just a bit west of his own home, where his wife and daughter live taking care of his grandkids.

“I’m a bit of a wanderer,” Beck had explained as he helped himself to a second bowl of stew. “My heart always leads me back home, but I wouldn’t be happy staying in one place. This job gives me the chance to travel without leaving my family for too long.”

Nia likes the older man’s demeanor. It’s warm, friendly but calming. His surprisingly deep voice is nice to listen to, and Nia is endeared by how fondly he mentions his family.

Nia liked him even more after the weather was mentioned and Ignatius made a sarcastic comment about humans that made Nia freeze and Tobias glare. Beck was the first to scoff, whipping the turtle playfully with his twin tails. There was no real fire behind the torkoal’s words or the floatzel’s gesture, but Beck had cast Nia and Tobias a concerned look regardless.

“Sorry. Natius doesn’t have the best sense of humor. We know the humans have nothing to do with the weather being out of sorts.”

Cordelia had snorted, slamming her drink down on the table. “I wish humans were the problem. They’d be a lot easier to corral than the gods apparently seeing fit to dump rain across the whole region.”

Nia and Tobias had relaxed, and Nia couldn’t help the way she immediately grew fond of the ragtag little group.

Now, nearing their destination, Nia feels a familiar sting in her heart. She’s only known the crew for a day, but she hates that they have to part so soon. Tobias likes to tease her about how quickly she gets attached to people, but she can’t help it! She thinks she vaguely remembers her mom telling her she had a heart too big for her body. Tobias would likely say she’s got a heart too big for her brain.

Tobias.

Nia frowns, absentmindedly looking into the reflections in the river’s surface for a sign of Giratina. She hasn’t seen the banished legendary since the tunnels, though that doesn’t mean he isn’t there.

It’s not enough to distract her from thinking about her partner. About how they’d found one of his family’s killers, only to find him too late. About the family the crobat had left behind. About Tobias’ grief, a relentless sort of sorrow she’d never had to face so head-on before. It’d been so powerful she’d sworn she could feel it herself, at times.

And she tries not to think of Tobias’ voice on their ride over. The way his words choked as he mentioned her leaving for the human world.

Nia swallows against a lump in her throat and closes her eyes. She leans her head forward to bump against the railing, listening to the loud, constant rush of the river.

She’s leaving, once Will or somebody else finds them a way home. She has to. Every time she thinks of Clay’s bright grin or her Mom’s tight hugs or Toni’s laughter her chest feels like it’s going to cave in on itself. She knows it’s not an option to not go back.

But she let herself get attached. Of course she did. And now she has Tobias. Tobias and Maggie and Xander and Andyn and Val and Avery and—

Tears burn at Nia’s eyes, so she takes a deep breath, letting it out slow. She opens her eyes again to watch as Cordelia slows the ferry. Debris is floating on top of the water, and Nori and Beck get to work clearing it with experienced hands. It only takes a glimpse for Nia to recognize what it is, after seeing multiple sites like this.

It was a home, once. Likely a lovely one set up right off the riverside. But the flooding has washed it away, right off its foundations. Hopefully not with a family inside.

Nia feels her chest tighten even further. She can’t stay here, but she also can’t imagine just…going back to her old human life, like nothing ever happened. How can she just leave behind all of the people she’s met in this world? Especially knowing that mystery dungeons and natural disasters like this are slowly ramping up in severity. She would feel like she was abandoning them.

She’d mentioned a way to go back and forth between worlds out of nothing more than desperation, but now she’s thinking it might be the only way she could actually handle it. You can’t just give up an entire 18 years’ worth of life and the family you love. But you also can’t live in an incredible, magical world for months—has it really been months already?—and form a whole new support system only to leave. Not without tearing out a part of your soul in the process, at least.

She doesn’t have an answer for her situation. And that worries her.

Beck chooses that moment to call out to Nia. She lifts her head, thankful for the interruption.

The orange weasel—a floatzel, Tobias had said, and the species had rang a bell in her head for some reason—is bobbing in the water below her. “We’ll be pulling into the branch leading to Shivergleam soon. You might want to grab your partner.”

Nia thanks the water type before getting up and heading inside the cabin. She takes the path downstairs into the belly of the proverbial beast, knocking on the heavy door to the furnace room before nudging her way inside.

As it has been every time Nia has checked on Tobias, the room is sweltering. Dim orange light bounces off the metallic walls. Ignatius the torkoal gives her a passing glance before continuing his work keeping the steam engine running. He takes a bite of coal, crunching it loudly in his mouth. The flames inside his shell flare, almost bright enough to hurt Nia’s eyes, and the torkoal spews a cloud of steam and embers into the pipes of the steam engine.

Tobias is sitting nearby, crunching idly on his own piece of coal and flipping through a manual for the ship. Nia doesn’t know why being down here puts him so much more at ease, but he’s relaxed as he waves casually to Nia in greeting.

It’s a bit loud with the whoosh of the flames and the rumbling of the ship and engine so close, so Nia nearly has to yell to be heard. “Beck says we’re getting close and should prepare to dock!”

Tobias perks up. With all the rain they’ve been dealing with, he hadn’t gotten to go onto dry land yesterday evening when they’d docked for the night. Nia knows he’s been eager to get back to solid ground from the moment they stepped onboard The Aqua Jet.

Tobias gives Ignatius a nod of parting and grabs a piece of charcoal to go. Then he follows Nia back to the stairs. As she leads them back to the upper floor and out on deck, Nia sneaks a few glances at Tobias crunching into the little black mineral.

“I still can’t believe you can just…eat coal.”

Tobias shrugs, catching some crumbs before they fall. “I couldn’t live off of it, but it’s nice. Stokes my fire a bit. Got a good crunch to it.”

Nia stares at the charcoal with a furrowed brow as they reach the railing on deck. “Does it…taste good?”

Tobias makes a so-so motion with his hand, then holds it out to her with a smirk. “Wanna try?”

He probably expects her to recoil, but she can’t deny that she’s curious. She takes the charcoal and gives it a sniff, wrinkling her nose. Then, she licks the little stone.

“Ugh,” Nia shoves the charcoal back at her partner. “It’s like licking a dirty grill.”

Tobias barks a laugh. He tries to reign it in, but his shoulders still shake as he stares at her. “I-I didn’t think you’d actually try it.”

“I was curious! You really underplayed how awful it is, though.”

Tobias shrugs and takes another bite, the sound cracking through the air even with the loud background track of the river. “‘S not that bad. Just…earthy.”

“‘Earthy,’ he says,” Nia teases. “I think you’ve just fried off all your taste buds. You—“

“There’s the turn!” Cas cuts in, hurrying to their side. The little duck looks out at the river with glittering eyes. “I love Shivergleam. It’s so spooky!”

Nia trades an uncomfortable look with Tobias as the ferry takes a turn down an offshoot of the main river. The trees on either side of the waterway close in overhead, blocking out much of the evening light. The air feels cooler, suddenly.

“Spooky?” Nia echoes cautiously.

Cas nods. “Yeah! There are lots of ghost types living in Shivergleam. Delia says that all kinds of weird stuff happens there!”

Nia takes a step closer to Tobias. He’s trying to look unbothered, but Nia sees him cast his sharp gaze out into the trees.

The shaded marsh around them does suddenly seem more…unsettling. Large stretches of floodwater sit between twisted trees, pools of reflected light between dark shade. Away from the roar of the Lilycap River, it feels unnaturally still. Even Beck and Nori, still swimming from side to side in front of the ferry to clear roots and foliage, seem to cut through the water silently.

It must take another half hour for them to finish the journey to Shivergleam, considering the sun is quickly setting through the trees. To Nia, it feels like it somehow takes half the time and twice as long, and her nerves only grow as they approach.

As long shadows fade to total darkness, Nia starts to see…lights. They’re a bluish-purple color, scattered like flickering candle flames throughout the trees. For a moment she thinks of the lights she saw when she was sick. Her memories. But when she looks to Tobias, he’s also watching them, brow furrowed.

When they start to flicker into being on either side of the waterway, Nia gets a closer look. They’re tiny flames, somehow resisting the damp environment. Additionally, they don’t seem to be…burning from anything, or even sheltered from the elements. Instead, they flicker in space at fixed points along the river, among the grassy banks and up in the trees. Like lamp lights along a street.

“Will-o-wisp?” Tobias murmurs.

Nia frowns, wracking her brain for the familiar term. “The move that causes burns?”

“Lots of ghost types learn it. They must have a system set up to light the path, like how the grass types at the guild repair the Lexym tree and open and close the windows to accommodate the weather.”

“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” Nia whispers, looking at the little flames with a mix of awe and unease.

Soon after, Beck and Nori pull themselves out of the water, dripping onto the deck. The floatzel shakes out his fur, and Tobias hisses and hides behind Nia. To Nia’s surprise, Cordelia keeps the boat moving.

Nia casts the dark river a nervous look. What if there are downed branches here still? Won’t they get caught up?

Beck moves to their side. He leans against the railing and smiles down at the will-o-wisps reflecting off the water. “Don’t worry. Shivergleam keeps the river clear from here on. Nori and I can relax.”

True to Beck’s word, they make the rest of the trip without any issue. As they round a bend in the river, the trees thin out enough to see the glow of the town ahead.

Shivergleam is built in bits and pieces into the thin, ropy trees of the swamp, like a city of treehouses. Long, draping boughs of leaves curtain the warm glow of the buildings. Nia can see the occasional silhouette move across bridges made of twisting roots and vines. The whole city almost looks like it’s floating in the blackness of the swamp, its lights reflected in the floodwater below. Nia almost doesn’t notice the short, jagged silhouettes poking above the surface. It takes her a moment to realize that they’re more buildings, homes and businesses swallowed by the floods. Her ears flatten.

“Ol’ Shivergleam,” Beck says, sounding pleased. “Some folks get spooked by so many ghost and dark types living in one place, but don’t let that scare you. They’re nice enough. Make sure you try the food while you’re here.”

Nia gives Beck a thin smile. “Will do. Thanks.”

“You think they’ll be open to us trying to find this Edme ‘mon?” Tobias asks.

Beck’s twin tails give a thoughtful spin. “Good question. They can be a bit private about Shivergleam matters. They didn’t want to ask for outside help with the floods until half their ground population lost their homes. But no harm in asking.”

Cordelia pulls the ferry to a stop beside a makeshift docking system made of arching, twisted branches. A staircase sits nearby, circling the tree’s trunk. Its lower steps lead under the floodwater and its upper steps lead up to the light and activity of the town.

Nori hops out to tie the boat to the dock, Cas scrambling to follow. Beck helps guide Nia and Tobias onto the firmer ground of the stairs—made with slick, damp wood that creaks underfoot. Nia grabs onto the thin rail with one hand and Tobias’ hand with the other, both for her reassurance and his own.

Cordelia leaps out of the boat and onto the stairs with all the confidence of a water type hanging over floodwater. Or maybe that’s just Cordelia. “Passengers delivered safely! Whatcha think, Charmander? Not too bad, eh?”

Tobias gives the croconaw a glare. Cordelia laughs.

Beck stands beside his captain, looking up at the islands of activity. Light shines down between thin gaps in the wood. “You two going to be okay on your own from here? You’ll probably have to catch a flight ‘mon when you want to leave.”

“Better be, because we ain’t sticking around. Heading out first thing in the morning,” Cordelia says, moving to help Cas carry a bag three times bigger than his entire body off the boat.

Beck hums. “I suppose she’s right. But if you need us before we leave, then just come find us at Hollowberry. Always happy to help out a new friend.”

“That offer does not extend to me!” Cordelia calls.

Nia laughs, giving Beck a warm smile. “Will do. Thank you so much, Beck.”

Beck gives her a friendly wink and Tobias a nod before turning to help his crew.

In the quiet left behind, Nia looks to Tobias, who has one hand gripping the rail with white knuckles and the other holding her hand tight enough to hurt.

“Ready?”

“I guess. Anything is better than being on that rickety old thing.”

Nia takes that as a yes and leads the two of them up the winding staircase, towards the gentle clamor of the population above. As they emerge into the soft light of the town, Nia looks around.

The platform they’re on holds two small, twisted buildings built into the side of the tree. One home’s window is bright, and Nia hears laughter from within. Long, drooping leaves drape over the roofs. Ropy bridges made with vines and roots link the platform on either end to another two islands, one slightly higher and the other slightly lower. Despite the heavy darkness of the night, the warm light spilling from most of the buildings lights up the town like a sea of stars.

It’s nothing like the busy roar of Afon’s merchant-heavy environment. It’s quieter here, almost residential. Pokemon talk in pairs or move peacefully about their business, but it all feels very…quaint.

Two Pokémon pass by Nia and Tobias, their conversation pausing as they give the pair cautious looks. They move on quickly enough, voices rising again as they gain distance. Nia’s almost too preoccupied by the townsfolk’s appearance to be hurt by their obvious suspicion. Her grip on Tobias’ hand tightens.

“Those are ghost types, right?” Nia murmurs, tearing her eyes away. She doesn’t want to be rude, but…well. She can see through them! They’re semi-transparent, the lights of the town visible as a blur of light through their bodies. It’s a little unnerving.

“Yeah?” Tobias asks, sounding puzzled. “Why are you so freaked out? I know we don’t get many ghost types in the Haven, but…”

“I know they aren’t like…dead,” Nia whispers, looking around to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. She doesn’t want to offend anyone. “But it’s still hard not to be freaked out by actual, literal ghosts!”

Tobias snorts. “They’re only called ghosts because of their typing, remember? They resemble what spirits are thought to look like, but they aren’t actually ghosts. Well, most of them.”

Nia gives him an incredulous look. “Most of them?!”

“Uh. Yeah? Did your books not tell you that? Some species are supposedly born from reincarnations. Maybe it’s just like a cultural thing, but they say all souls of certain species lived previous lives. Phantump. Pumpkaboo.” Tobias cuts her a dry look. “Yamask.”

Nia blinks, caught off-guard. “Yamask?” So…Will?

She does vaguely remember reading about the yamask line, when she first came to the Pokemon world and was looking for a name. About how they’re supposedly born from lost human souls. At the time she’d assumed that meant they were in the same situation as her and all the other humans, but Tobias almost seems to be implying that there’s something different about them. That some ghost types are…born as reincarnated souls. But Will is an adult and he’s only been here a few years, so—

Tobias tugs at Nia’s hand, apparently deeming her moment of existential crisis unimportant. “We’d better get moving. We’re getting looks.”

Nia shakes off her thoughts. “R-Right. Can you lead the way?”

Tobias snorts. “As long as you do the socializing.”

“Deal. Are we looking for Hollowberry to rest for the night?”

Tobias mouth flattens as he looks around. Nia follows his gaze, slowly less and less unnerved and more amazed by the chilling beauty of their surroundings.

“With this many ghost and dark types, most of the town probably runs on a nocturnal schedule,” Tobias finally says.

“Oh. So…should we start looking tonight?”

“Are you too tired?”

Tobias glances at her, then away. As if to make it seem like he doesn’t actually care about her answer. Nia bites back a smile and pointedly doesn’t remind the prickly charmander that they’re still holding hands.

“No, I’m all right! Where should we start?”

Tobias looks around, then heads down one of the bridges leading to another platform, releasing her hand to grab onto both sides of the railing. The woven branches underneath them creak and dip under their weight.

The first Pokemon they find who actually makes eye contact and seems willing to talk is a floating purple ghost with no legs and disembodied hands. He’s handing out samples outside of a cute little bakery, which means his friendliness is probably just a business tactic, but Nia will take it.

Nia gratefully accepts a small sample of donut and exchanges pleasantries before saying, “We were actually wondering if you happen to know anyone in town called Edme?”

The ghost type’s friendly smile falls, a gleam of suspicion entering his eyes. “…Where did you say you two are from?”

“Lexym Guild, in Bethoc’s Haven,” Tobias answers, crossing his arms. “We aren’t here to cause any trouble. Just want to ask them some questions.”

Another Pokemon, some kind of little orange and black fox with a large tail, walks by. The ghostly baker catches her eye, pasting on a huge grin. “Hey! Quinta! Want to try a new recipe?”

The fox glances at Nia and Tobias before deciding to speak to the baker. The two quickly start a conversation, turning their bodies to shut Nia and Tobias out.

Okay, message received. Nia devours her (delicious) donut sample and leads Tobias away before his flaring tail flame gets them in trouble.

“Maybe the next person will be more open to talk,” Nia says hopefully.

The look Tobias sends her makes it clear how much he doesn’t believe her. “Sure.”

Unfortunately, the next Pokemon they stop is no more forthcoming. Nor the next. Most of the townsfolk don’t look thrilled to talk to outsiders at all, but even the friendliest of Pokemon immediately clam up and hurry off when they mention Edme.

“This is going well,” Nia sighs when they take a break, sitting against one of the platforms’ central tree trunks. The wood is damp and the air is getting cold as the night wears on, so her fur feels both thin and uncomfortable. She’s starting to drag, but the town only seems to grow more active as the moon rises higher.

“They’re suspicious of outsiders, and apparently protective of this Edme ‘mon,” Tobias says, also looking tired. “They must think we’re here to cause trouble.”

“Even though we’re Seekers?”

Tobias sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “Probably because we’re Seekers. Ghost types and dark types get a bad reputation sometimes. They’re pinned much quicker for crimes than other types.”

Nia winces, remembering her earlier reaction to seeing the ghost types. She’s grown more accustomed to them over the past hour or so, since they’re not really any stranger or scarier than other types of Pokemon. They’re just not ones she’s used to seeing.

“So you think they’re worried we’re here to take Edme in?”

“Probably. Whether it’s warranted or not.”

Nia makes a thoughtful sound in her throat. “So far we have been pretty vague about why we want to talk to Edme. Should we just be honest about why we’re here?”

Tobias gives her an Are you crazy? sort of look. “And say we’re here to ask Edme about—“ Tobias’ voice lowers. “Giratina?”

“Why not?”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “He’s a scary story for a reason! Most ‘mon don’t even like hearing his name.”

“But Edme was the source for all of those books we read! They’re almost like the authority on Giratina. And everyone here is defending Edme, so—“

“So Giratina probably isn’t a bad omen here,” Tobias finishes, blinking at her. “Huh. You know, that…might make sense. He is a ghost type. I don’t know enough ghost types to know if they see him as a deity, but…”

“We could try it?” Nia suggests.

Tobias sighs. “I guess it can’t get any worse than how it’s been going so far.”

Their next target is a pair of Pokemon chatting amiably outside of a shop and drinking tea. A misdreavus and a banette, according to Tobias. The two ghost types quiet as Nia and Tobias approach and politely introduce themselves.

“—and we were hoping that you might know about a Pokemon called Edme? We need some information about Giratina, and we heard they’re the best person—uh, Pokemon to ask.”

The two Pokemon straighten up with surprised expressions when Nia mentions Giratina’s name. They exchange a look, but Nia can see the cold suspicion thaw, ever so slightly.

“You want to know more about Lord Giratina?” The banette asks, clearly doubtful.

Lord Giratina? Guess they were spot-on about the deity thing.

Nia nods. “Yes! Please. We came all this way looking for information.”

“Why? Most solids are too scared to even say his name.”

Nia hesitates. Looks to Tobias. He shrugs. She bites her lip and looks back at the two Pokemon. “H-He’s been following me. Through reflections. And we want to know why.”

The pair’s eyes widen. Their idle hovering stills. It’s the most open emotion anyone from the town has shown so far.

“Lord Giratina showed himself to you?” The misdreavus asks, voice hushed with awe.

The banette looks torn between suspicion and confusion. “Why would Lord Giratina show himself to some random fighting type?“

Nia opens her mouth without thinking, to say something about it possibly being because she’s human. Luckily, Tobias whacks her leg with his tail, stopping her from blabbing.

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Tobias growls. “So if someone could just tell us where to find Edme, that’d be great.”

The two Shivergleam natives look torn, exchanging a worried look.

“What do you think?” The misdreavus whispers, her “hair” floating in a nonexistent breeze.

“The riolu should be fine. She’s a fighting type. But sending a fire type to the Guardian? You know how dangerous that is!”

“But if Lord Giratina really did show himself, then there has to be a good reason! And you know the Guardian can handle herself.”

Nia and Tobias share an uncertain look as the two go back and forth about the “Guardian.” Looks like Tobias was right—the citizens of Shivergleam are protecting their own. Admirable, if not annoying at the current moment.

“Fine,” the banette finally says. She turns to Nia and Tobias. “We’ll tell you where to find the Guardian.“

“Oh, thank you so much! We—“

“But,” the ghost type interrupts, baring her terrifying zipper-like teeth. “We don’t take kindly to anyone messing with our own. Especially a Guardian. So just know that if you do anything to harm her, the entirety of Shivergleam won’t hesitate to drag you both to the afterlife.”

Nia’s bubbly gratitude dies in her chest. Eyes wide and tail tucked, she frantically agrees. Tobias glares at the two Pokemon, but nods.

The banette seems somewhat satisfied by that. She waves her friend on.

The misdreavus hesitates once more before gesturing with her chin to the right, off through the sea of platforms and flickering lights. “She lives on the edge of town, at one of the highest sectors. It’s the tall house with the shiny baubles hanging outside of it.”

Nia grins, forgetting her momentary fear in favor of relief that their search is almost over. “Got it! Thank you!”

The two Pokemon still seem unsure. They go back to their tea with an uneasy air. Tobias hauls Nia away as she’s still trying to thank them.

“You want to lead the way?” Nia asks. “I’m so glad we finally know where to find her!”

Tobias snorts. “After a little light threatening of our lives. But yes, of course I’m leading. You’ll run us in circles with your sense of direction.”

Nia concedes that and follows Tobias across town. The residents of Shivergleam still give them wary looks as they pass by, but otherwise don’t seem aggressive. Defensive, if anything. It hurts Nia’s feelings a bit, to be honest, but she figures that she can’t really be upset with them if they’ve been blamed in the past so much by outsiders. She shouldn’t make this about her own hurt feelings when they’re the ones who have actually been harmed.

At least the town itself is a beautiful sight to see. Still damp and a bit unnerving to traverse with the pitch blackness of the water far below them, but otherwise lovely. The warm lights of the buildings make the place feel magical, almost dreamlike. Or maybe that’s just Nia’s sleepiness talking. It is getting late.

“Why do you think they were calling Edme ‘the Guardian?’” Nia asks.

Tobias shrugs, eyes glued to his feet as he carefully crosses the bridge. “Dunno. Not a title I’m familiar with.”

“They sounded kind of…reverent. Of both Edme and Giratina. I haven’t heard Pokemon call any of the legendaries ‘Lord’ before.”

“Eh, ghost types can be weird. If they’re looking to Giratina of all Pokemon for protection, then you know they’ve got a few screws loose.”

“Don’t be rude. Everyone has their own beliefs.”

“I guess.”

By time Nia hears the gentle tinkling of something almost like windchimes, the warm lights of the town have started to die off. Black forest sits ahead, with a single home framed against it. It’s a tall, narrow, misshapen structure of woven roots and branches. Shiny items like bottles, mirrors and glass are tied together from branches, swaying gently in the breeze. The upper windows are aglow with a soft light.

“Guess this is it,” Nia murmurs.

“Guess so,” Tobias responds. “Ready to get some answers?”

“I hope so.”

Nia steps forward to knock firmly on the front door. She listens for footsteps from inside, but doesn’t hear anything. So she’s surprised when the door unlatches and swings open. The faint purple of telekinetic energy—usually belonging to a psychic or ghost type—glows off the door handle in the dark room within.

In the doorway floats a…bug? It almost looks like a cicada shell, something about its stiff body and angular wings bringing to mind childhood summers and bugsong. A halo-like piece floats above the Pokemon’s head, and it stares out at the two of them with two immobile eyes. It floats faintly in place, but otherwise doesn’t move—not the flicker of an eye or the twitch of a claw. Not even a breath.

Nia feels a shiver roll down her spine.

Then the Pokemon speaks, a chipper voice echoing out of the shell. “Yes? How can I help you two?”

Nia blinks. Opens her mouth to respond. Closes it again. Something about the expressive voice paired with the unsettlingly dead image is…really throwing her for a loop. Not to mention that they’ve been running into unfriendly residents all night.

“Are you Edme?” Tobias asks. “The, uh, Guardian?”

The bug Pokemon laughs. It’s unsettling not seeing the body move with the sound. “I was the last time I checked! To who do I owe the pleasure?”

“N-Nia,” Nia finally blurts, getting her tongue under control. “Nia and Tobias, of Team Scarlet.“

“A Seeker team?” Edme asks, sounding intrigued. “We don’t see many Seekers in Shivergleam.”

“Well, we aren’t really here on team business. We were actually hoping to ask you some, uh, questions? About Giratina.”

Edme floats slightly lower, as if to meet their eyes and get a better look at them. “It’s…rare, for someone outside of our community to seek out information about Lord Giratina.”

It’s a thinly veiled question, just the slightest bit wary. Nia glances at Tobias. He gestures for her to go ahead.

“Giratina’s been following me, through reflections. Trying to contact me. I—we did some research, and pretty much every book we could find referenced you in some way, so we figured you know the most about him. We were hoping you could give us some answers.”

Edme stills entirely at this new information, as if frozen in time. Nia opens her mouth to ask if she’s all right when the bug lurches forward, a little too close to Nia’s space.

“You say you’ve seen Giratina? You believe him to be attempting contact?”

“Yeah, we’re pretty confident about that,” Tobias says drily, clearly thinking about the banished legendary trying to yank Nia into the distortion world.

Edme turns to Nia for confirmation, so she gives a helpless shrug.

Edme bobs in the air, as if excited. “That is incredible news! Please, do come in.”

The bug turns and heads inside. Nia shudders when she catches a glimpse of a hole in Edme’s back, showing the blackness of a hollow shell inside.

Nia looks to Tobias, unsure. Tobias nudges past Nia to lead the way, swinging his tail forward to use it as a torch in the dark house. By the light of his flame, Nia can see the walls are covered in bookshelves, and what little space is left is taken up by tables holding notes and inks, bowls and ingredients and jars. A large woven rug sits in the middle of the floor, strangely empty of furniture. A spiral staircase winds around the sides of the room and upstairs, to where Nia saw the lights in the window from outside. A study, maybe. It all looks rather spooky in the low light.

“Oh! My apologies,” Edme says, floating back down from the darkness and making them jump. “Let me give you some light.”

Edme uses the same telekinetic power—Nia still isn’t sure if it’s psychic or ghost type in nature, but she’s leaning towards psychic considering she can feel her fur prickle—to pick up a lit candle from upstairs in bright purple energy. It floats down and expertly makes a circuit around the room, lighting half-melted candlesticks until the space is warmly lit.

Nia relaxes, following Edme to where she’s nudging two cushions forward on the floor. They’re dusty with disuse, but Nia doesn’t want to be rude and point it out so she sits gingerly. Tobias has no such qualms and takes a moment to beat the dust off the cushion before flopping down.

Edme lowers herself to hover in front of them. “Would you two like some tea?”

Nia, anxious as she is to get some answers and worried that tea might lull her to sleep at this late hour, smiles and politely declines. Tobias just shakes his head.

Edme laughs her hollow laugh, blank expression never shifting. “Honestly, I was hoping you would say no. Now, would you mind laying out your situation? When did you notice Lord Giratina following you?”

Nia blinks, surprised that Edme believed them so easily. She looks to Tobias to start explaining, since he was the first one to notice Giratina.

Tobias, however, clearly isn’t as eager to talk. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “I have a few questions first. We came to find you because you were the most referenced source in the books about Giratina, but it was obvious that the authors were holding stuff back. Being intentionally vague. Why?”

“Tobias!” Nia hisses. They’re the ones who came barging into Edme’s house—starting off with open suspicion is just rude!

But Edme simply laughs. “No, it’s quite all right. You are exactly right. There is a reason you could sense holes in their words. I no longer speak with authors, as they so willingly pick and choose what to share of the truth.”

“The truth..?” Nia echoes.

“The truth that the Guardians preserve, as servants to Lord Giratina.”

Nia and Tobias’ confusion is palpable.

Edme bobs, as if nodding. “Ah, yes. Allow me to introduce myself properly.” She twirls higher off the ground. “I am Guardian Edme, the 13th Guardian under Lord Giratina.”

Edme circles the room, gesturing with her body to the many, many papers and books stuffed into the walls. “For nearly a millennium, Lord Giratina has had a loyal guard in our realm to act as the official liaison between our dimension and the distortion world.”

“A millennium?” Tobias asks, suspicious. “So you didn’t stop serving him once he was banished.”

“Because he was banished unfairly,” Edme says, as simply as the sky being blue or grass being green. “Wrongfully ousted for trying to protect our world.”

Nia straightens up, frowning.

Tobias beats her to the punch, clearly incredulous. “That’s…definitely not the story we’ve heard. We heard that Giratina nearly killed another legendary and was banished for his violence.”

Edme lowers slightly, as if slumping. “Yes. Despite our best efforts, the truth has been grossly distorted.”

“But…that’s the story literally everyone knows,” Tobias protests. “It’s what’s written in all the books—including the ones you’re referenced in!”

For a moment, Nia swears the flames on the candles flare brighter before dying down again. Edme is once more still as stone.

Then, she speaks, voice bitter. “They record the truth they want to be known. Not the truth that actually happened. No matter how loudly we shout it.”

“And how do we know that what you say actually happened is the real truth?” Tobias challenges.

Nia bites her tongue. He has a point.

Edme turns to them, rising higher until she looms over them. In the flickering light, she looks as imposing as a statue in the dead of night, playing tricks on Nia’s eyes.

“I know this,” Edme says quietly. “Because I am a Guardian. It has been my duty since the moment I was born from my sister’s shell. This is my only duty. And the only duty of all my predecessors. I know the truth because they have taught it to me. Because I have spoken to Lord Giratina myself.”

Nia’s breath catches. “Wait. Y-You’ve talked to him? How? When he tried speaking to me in the tunnels I couldn’t hear him at all.”

Edme turns to Nia, quiet for a moment. Then she says, “I can allow you to speak to him, if you’d like.”

“No. I still don’t trust him,” Tobias growls. “Or, quite frankly, this ‘truth’ that you and your predecessors believe in. Sorry, but when the whole world thinks that Arceus themself banished Giratina for nearly murdering another legendary, it’s kind of a hard impression to forget. Plus, he tried to yank Nia into his creepy dimension against her will!”

“He did help us in the tunnels,” Nia points out, softly. Tobias throws up his hands, at a loss of how to respond.

Nia turns to Edme and says, hesitantly, “I guess…I don’t know what to believe right now. We thought he was bad, but he helped us recently. I know he did. And he has to be trying to talk to me for a reason. We were hoping you could give us some answers as to what that reason might be.”

Edme hums. “You would have to speak to Lord Giratina yourself for that. I can tell you the truth of his banishment, but I know not why he follows you.”

Nia swallows. She doesn’t know how ready she is to try “speaking” to Giratina. But…

“Could you tell us, then?” She asks. “What the true story is, according to the Guardians?”

Edme looks Nia in the eyes with hollow pupils. “Are you sure you want to hear it? There is a reason the cowardly pens of those writers never recorded my words.”

Nia looks to Tobias. He still doesn’t look like he trusts Edme, but she can tell he won’t stop her, either. Nia takes a deep breath and nods. “Y-Yes. Please. We want all the information before moving forward.”

Edme is silent for a moment longer. Then she chuckles. “Wise girl. I will gladly share the truth, if you promise to hear it.”

Nia murmurs agreement, and Tobias grudgingly copies her once Edme turns her stare onto him. Then Edme settles, floating low to the ground in front of them. Nia crosses her legs and leans closer, heart pounding.

“The story told for decades is that of Lord Giratina attacking another legendary Pokemon. Of Arceus commanding the Lake Trio to banish him to the Distortion World for his crime, destined to protect the dimensional borders without ever leaving them. Correct?”

Nia thinks that’s right, but lets Tobias nod their confirmation.

“The truth,” Edme says. “Is that Arceus had nothing to do with that decision. They weren’t even aware of it.”

Tobias frowns. Nia wracks her brain to keep up with the unfamiliar lore. Arceus is like…the god above all the other deities, right? The one in charge of everything?

“But,” Tobias says. “That doesn’t make any sense. Even if Arceus weren’t there at the time, they would still know about it, right? If Arceus is real, then surely you can’t hide anything from them.”

“Arceus is a very knowledgeable being,” Edme agrees. “Their eyes and ears and arms reach farther than any other. But they did not know about Lord Giratina’s banishment, for they were already asleep.”

“Asleep?” Nia murmurs.

“Asleep…” Tobias’ eyes widen. “You mean how the rest of the legendaries have gone dormant and disappeared? Arceus also..?”

“Arceus was the first,” Edme says. “They fell to sleep and none could wake them. Still to this day they rest. Presently, most of the others have followed. However, when it was just Arceus, when the panic of their parent’s falling was fresh, the legends didn’t know what to do.”

Nia can sense the gravity of Edme’s words, even if she’s having a hard time feeling like they’re actually…real, and not just a fairy tale. She glances at Tobias, and is surprised that for someone once so unconcerned about legendaries, the charmander seems pale and tense.

“The legends argued,” Edme continues. “About what to do after Arceus fell dormant. For months on end. This had never happened before. They didn’t know what would happen without Arceus there to guide them. Would their own energy falter? Who would protect the mortal Pokemon of their world?”

“Without their leader,” Edme continues. “Infighting began. And in the gods’ absence, our world began to slip. Without Lugia and Kyogre guiding the seas, waves became impossible to navigate. Marine Pokemon and sailors alike died without any hope of rescue. Without Groudon and Regirock, the earth shook and splintered without guidance, destroying towns and homes. Without the guiding winds of Tornadus and Rayquaza, gales developed into terrible storms free from Raikou and Zapdos’ protection, striking the earth with lightning and fire and flooding it with rain.”

“So they just…abandoned the Pokemon world?” Nia whispers, horrified. “To argue?”

“Most of them. Understand that to an immortal legendary, a few months is a heartbeat in time. To the Pokemon in our realm, it is an eternity. Many of them did not realize they were abandoning the world that they were born to protect.”

“Are you making this up to make all the other legendaries look bad?” Tobias accuses, baring his teeth. “It’s not very subtle.”

Edme laughs. “I don’t need to make it up. The legendaries are generally benevolent. But they were aware of their power in a way that led to self-importance.”

After a heavy beat of silence, Nia hopefully adds, “But you said most of them didn’t notice the issues they were causing, right..?”

Edme bobs in a nod. “Yes. A few legendaries were aware of what their absence meant for the Pokemon of the world. Those more tied into the affairs of mortals. Entei, protector of children. The Swords of Justice. Latias and Latios. Mew, Mother of all Pokemon. Lord Giratina.”

“You’re trying to tell us he was worried about mortals?” Tobias scoffs.

“He was not,” Edme says, startling Nia and Tobias into silence. “At least, not directly. He was worried about his domain—the dimensional rift. The borders containing our world, and keeping it safely separate from others.”

“Like the human world?” Nia ventures.

Edme nods. “Yes. Lord Giratina has been the guardian of our world’s borders since the beginning. He doesn’t care much for mortals, but he takes his duty seriously. He was aware that Arceus’ sleep was concerning, but the absence of legendaries—particularly his siblings Dialga and Palkia—only exacerbated the issue. Their panic was putting the fragile balance of the world in danger, and endangering the entire dimension in the process.”

“So what did he do?” Nia asks.

Edme laughs, this one more genuinely happy than bitter. “He gave the other legends a piece of his mind. Told them all to get back to their stations and stop destroying Arceus’ beloved world if they were so worried.”

Despite herself, Nia quirks a smile.

“However,” Edme says, voice sobering again. “In Lord Giratina’s absence, more of the legends had fallen dormant against their will. Victini. Hoopa. Jirachi. Tensions had grown high. Cresselia, in a fit of anger, accused Lord Giratina of being uncaring for their parent, Arceus. Even accused him of being the cause for their dormancy.”

Tobias makes a doubtful noise, but otherwise doesn’t interrupt. Nia frowns, focused entirely on Edme’s hushed voice in the dim candlelight.

“She attacked him, and so Lord Giratina defended himself. Squabbles between legendaries were not rare, but never was there intent to genuinely harm one another. However, Cresselia, already in a weakened state, was seriously injured and fell dormant after the fight.”

“On edge,” Edme continues. “The Lake Trio—Azelf, Mesprit, and Uxie—used their power to banish Lord Giratina to his domain in the Distortion World. The battle did spur the legendaries to finally return to their stations, however, rebalancing the world for the past hundred years.”

“But?” Nia murmurs.

“But,” Edme sighs. “They too eventually fell to sleep. Recently, even the most powerful of legendaries have begun to fall dormant.”

“The increase in natural disasters,” Tobias murmurs.

“Correct.”

“Is that what’s causing the mystery dungeons, too?” Nia asks.

“I…am not sure,” Edme admits. “Giratina is not speaking to me as openly as he used to. However, considering the two phenomena have been following the same progression, I believe they must be linked in some way.”

“Giratina hasn’t been talking to you?” Tobias asks, doubtful. “He’s sure been trying to ‘talk’ to Nia lately.”

Edme turns hollow eyes on Nia. It feels a bit unnerving. “Lord Giratina himself is weakening, but he believes that whatever is causing legendaries to fall dormant and steering the world towards ruin can still be reversed. Perhaps…he believes you could be of use in such a mission.”

Nia leans back. “M-Me? What could I do to help?”

“And I don’t like how you phrased that,” Tobias growls. “‘Of use?’”

Edme floats a bit higher. “Apologies. I simply meant you might be helpful in finding the answers Lord Giratina seeks.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence, tense and unsure as they digest that.

“That’s…” Tobias starts, sounding off-kilter.

“A lot,” Nia finishes. “And you heard this story from…Giratina?”

Edme floats over to a window, as if looking outside into the night. “I understand you may think me foolish, to believe the better light straight from the accused’s mouth. But my predecessors assure me that Lord Giratina has always been harsh, but just. That he would never intentionally harm another legend. I believe it to be the truth.”

Nia glances at Tobias, wanting his take on all this. The charmander is staring down with a furrowed brow, lost in thought.

“I still recommend speaking to Lord Giratina yourself,” Edme says, moving to float over to one of her tables. She uses her power to start sifting through the mess. “I can set up the ritual now, if you would like.”

Nia’s head snaps up. “What?”

“Like bring him here?” Tobias asks, barely hiding his alarm. “To our world?”

“No, no. Not to this realm, of course. The Lake Trio saw to it that even in their dormancy Lord Giratina would not be able to cross over any time soon. Especially not here. If anywhere, that would need to occur at the dimensional gate.”

“Dimensional gate?” Nia echoes.

“The traditional summoning spot for Lord Giratina,” Edme explains absently, shuffling through jars and papers. “Where the border between our realm and the dimensional rift is thinnest.”

Nia opens her mouth to continue that line of questioning, but Edme makes a sound of triumph, pulling back with a few supplies held in her purple energy.

“Would you be willing to speak with Lord Giratina and ask him yourself why he is trying to contact you? I believe conversing with him will convince you of his authenticity as well.”

Tobias growls a sharp, “No.”

Nia stays silent. Conflicted.

Tobias looks at her, bewildered. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not saying we trust him immediately, or even Edme’s story, but…”

“He’s the villain of the story! Of course he’s going to try and spin himself in a better light. And you can’t trust someone who is clearly obsessed with him to be any more truthful! I know how you are, Nia. If you talk to him, he’ll win you over with some sob story in a heartbeat.”

Nia huffs. “But what if they’re telling the truth? What if Giratina isn’t the bad guy he’s made out to be and he’s trying to save the Pokemon world? What if he needs my help somehow?”

Tobias groans and rubs at his face, muttering something about her being a bleeding heart.

“It can’t hurt just to talk to him, right?” Nia adds. “And you’ll be right here to keep us on track.”

Tobias looks at her for a long moment. Then he sighs. “Fine. But only because I know you won’t let up otherwise.”

Edme, who had been waiting nearby with barely restrained enthusiasm, jumps into action. She shoos them away from the cushions they’d been sitting on, then moves the pillows aside with her powers. Then she removes the rug covering the space in the middle of the floor, only to reveal a circular wooden panel below. Purple energy envelops it and easily lifts it aside, leaving a shallow dip in the wooden flooring maybe an inch or two deep.

Edme bustles about, gathering supplies and snuffing out a few of the candles. She fills the basin with a bowl of water, until the surface of it is nothing more than a smooth, glassy pool. Then she sprinkles some herbs on top of its surface, pouring a salt-like mixture into an intricate pattern on the wood around the outside of the pool.

“Should we tell her that Giratina just…shows up around you?” Tobias whispers to Nia, dry with humor.

Nia bites back a smile despite her nerves. “This does look very…intense. But she has to have a reason for it, right?” Even if she does look like she’s trying to summon the dead.

Finally, Edme floats back, apparently satisfied. Only a few candles near the basin remain lit, leaving the edges of the room dark. The thin pool of water almost seems to…glow, in the low light, a few bits of herbs floating on its surface.

“Now what?” Tobias asks, shifting nervously.

Nia moves to step closer to the pool, and he quickly latches onto her arm to stop her.

“We have lit the beacon for Lord Giratina. But if he has been following you, young riolu…” Edme turns to her. “Would you mind stepping into the pool, to show him you’re here?”

Nia stiffens, and Tobias immediately turns on the bug with a glare.

“We said we’d talk,” he growls. “Nothing more. I don’t care how much you believe Giratina’s story—we still don’t know that he isn’t trying to kill Nia or something. She’s not stepping in there to serve herself up on a silver platter.”

Edme angles slightly towards Nia. “Riolu?”

“I-I have to admit I’m not…completely comfortable with the idea. Can I not just…I don’t know. Sit by it and call out to him or something?”

“It is the only way to speak to him,” Edme says, something in her voice making Nia nervous. Something almost…desperate.

“It’s also the only way we know of for him to grab you,” Tobias counters, baring his teeth.

“You must be in his realm to speak with him!” Edme says, voice rising. “The banishment—”

“You didn’t tell us that!” Tobias snaps, stepping in front of Nia. “We sure aren’t going onto his creepy turf!”

For a moment, Edme is silent, staring at the two of them. Nia has a terrible feeling in her gut. Then, the bug sighs. “Shame. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to force you.”

Tobias’ lashing tail stills. “…What?”

In a flash of purple light, Nia feels her whole body lock up. From the corner of her eye, she can see herself outlined in the same bright purple energy that Edme’s been using all night. She can’t move anything but her eyes and her mouth. She’s stuck. Through her panic, she absently notes that it must be a psychic-type move if it’s able to affect her.

In front of her, Nia can hear Tobias make a strangled sound as he too is caught in the attack. Then, he’s pulled through the air to float at Edme’s side, wild eyes flicking to Nia.

“What’re you doing?!” Tobias snarls. Nia can see fire glow briefly behind his teeth before he chokes again and it peters out.

Nia has a sinking feeling about where this is going, even before Edme’s powers start to pilot her legs, moving her forward one jerky step at a time like a puppet.

“E-Edme, wait!” Nia yelps. “Let’s talk about this!”

Edme hums. “Unfortunately, Riolu, I must put Lord Giratina’s wishes above your comfort. If he wants to speak with you, I shall make it so. You cannot hear him if you are not in his realm. I was hoping to get you there voluntarily, but I can see the lies you’ve heard won’t allow that.”

Nia’s foot splashes into the thin basin of water. And then the other, until she’s frozen in place right in the middle of it, shaking against Edme’s grip.

Nia didn’t realize she was so powerful.

“Don’t worry,” Edme says, voice bright. “He won’t harm you. You should be excited! Not everyone gets the chance to speak with a legend.”

Nia feels tears start to gather in her eyes as her heart pounds. She alternates between looking down at the reflections in the pool below and up at Edme and Tobias. “I-I don’t want to. Please, Edme—“

Tobias tries to lunge forward, only to be snapped back into place. His eyes are glued to the pool.

Nia follows his gaze down and feels like she’s going to throw up. Giratina circles in the reflections below her, gold and gray and black and red. A faint serpentine shape growing closer and closer.

Nia closes her eyes, counting her rapid heartbeats and praying that something happens to miraculously save them. To break them from Edme’s grip and let them escape. Something cold wraps around her ankle. She whimpers, refusing to look.

Tobias is panting and growling, still struggling against the bright purple energy surrounding him. “Nia!”

The grip around Nia’s ankle tightens. She opens her eyes and looks to Tobias. She has a single moment to meet her partner’s eyes before the grip around her yanks.

Despite the shallow water of the pool, she’s pulled straight down. Deep, deeper than should be possible, through the coolness of the water and then back into open air. Her stomach flips. She feels like she’s weightless in the worst way possible.

The world seems to spin, and then she’s falling hard on solid, dry ground. She gasps, pushing herself up on shaky arms. She’s free of Edme’s telekinetic grip. She looks around wildly at the dark environment she’s found herself in.

It’s like some kind of strange nightmare. A dark, crumbling stone landscape, pieces floating midair as if trapped in resin. A swirling blue-black void of empty sky sits as its backdrop, and weirdly enough Nia is reminded of that one Vincent van Gogh painting she was taught about in elementary school: The Starry Night. Just without the comfort of the stars. The air is stiflingly still, making her shaky breaths seem particularly loud.

It feels…heavy here. Unnatural.

Nia staggers to her feet. She opens her mouth to call out for Tobias, but movement catches her eye. She follows it, her partner’s name dying on her tongue as she tips her head back.

Looming above her, all long tendril wings and piercing red eyes, is a creature of nightmares.

Giratina.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #charmander #riolu #sableye #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

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richincolor · 11 months

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New Releases

We've got four new YA books on our radar this week! Check out what's on deck for launch this Tuesday:

The Lotus Flower Champion by Pintip Dunn and Love Dunn

It looks like paradise…only it’s not. This was supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime family trip to Thailand. One last wish for my dying mama. Instead, we’re stranded on a lush, stunning island with ten strangers—held captive as Thai mythology unfolds around us…and within us.

Now we’re being tested. We’re expected to face our greatest fears—and possible deaths—in hopes of awakening some kind of dormant gift…or curse. One by one, we’re transforming, echoing the strange and sometimes wondrous abilities found in Thai folktales. But my mama has only days to live, my papa is missing, and I’m forced to trust a group of strangers…including our evasive, dark-eyed tour guide, who resembles a minor god. Toss me in the ocean and feed me to the naga now.

Only I’m no hero. My days are managed by numbers and the compulsions that used to keep me safe. I have to prove how far I can go. To survive. To protect my family. And to find a way off this perilous island where everything is a lie…including reality.

Carry My Secret to Your Grave (Murder, She Wrote #2) by Stephanie Kuehn

Small town murders. Big time thrills. The second installment in the suspenseful, modern update of the classic mystery TV series. Perfect for fans of One of Us Is Lying, Sadie, and Gossip Girl.

“Someone knows where you live. And whoever they are, they want you to know… you’re next.” Bea Fletcher never met a cold case she didn’t want to solve. So when she finds herself staying with family near Lake Paloma, she’s torn. Sure, she’s not thrilled to be bunking with her moody, taciturn uncle and his wife while her father’s out of town. Being away from Cabot Cove means less time for Bea to work on her true crime blog, visit her great-aunt Jessica, and spend time with new friends Leisl, Leif, and Carlos and the mysterious underground treasure hunting game they’ve been playing.

But Lake Paloma has mysteries of its own, including the unsolved drowning of teenaged Eden Vicente the year before. And when Bea starts to ask questions about Eden’s death, the answers lead her closer to home than she ever imagined. If Bea isn’t careful, she could be the next girl to end up at the bottom of the lake.

What the River Knows by Isabel Ibañez

Bolivian-Argentinian Inez Olivera belongs to the glittering upper society of nineteenth century Buenos Aires, and like the rest of the world, the town is steeped in old world magic that’s been largely left behind or forgotten. Inez has everything a girl might want, except for the one thing she yearns the most: her globetrotting parents—who frequently leave her behind.

When she receives word of their tragic deaths, Inez inherits their massive fortune and a mysterious guardian, an archeologist in partnership with his Egyptian brother-in-law. Yearning for answers, Inez sails to Cairo, bringing her sketch pads and an ancient golden ring her father sent to her for safekeeping before he died. But upon her arrival, the old world magic tethered to the ring pulls her down a path where she soon discovers there’s more to her parent’s disappearance than what her guardian led her to believe.

With her guardian’s infuriatingly handsome assistant thwarting her at every turn, Inez must rely on ancient magic to uncover the truth about her parent’s disappearance—or risk becoming a pawn in a larger game that will kill her.

The Space Between Here and Now by Sarah Suk

Seventeen-year-old Aimee Roh has Sensory Time Warp Syndrome, a rare condition that causes her to time travel to a moment in her life when she smells something linked to that memory. Her dad is convinced she’ll simply grow out of it if she tries hard enough, but Aimee’s fear of vanishing at random has kept her from living a normal life.

When Aimee disappears for nine hours into a memory of her estranged mom–a moment Aimee has never remembered before–she becomes distraught. Not only was this her longest disappearance yet, but the memory doesn’t match up with the story of how her mom left–at least, not the version she’s always heard from her dad.

Desperate for answers, Aimee travels to Korea, where she unravels the mystery of her memories, the truth about her mother, and the reason she keeps returning to certain moments in her life. Along the way, she realizes she’ll need to reconcile her past in order to save her present.

#the space between here and now #murder she wrote #the lotus flower champion #what the river knows #ya lit

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sonickedtrowel · 9 months

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🐤 orrrr 🕊️ or both if you feel like it!

Hey so I'm really terrible at the internet!!! I went and posted a thing and then didn't even answer all the responses I got, I'm sorry anon!! So... this is about this fic ask thing! Okay! Here we go!

🐤 a mystery quote (take out the context, even censor the names if you want! let em guess!)

Ooh okay I had to go ahead to my "notes" doc because I haven't gotten to this part yet lol, but love to let you guess. Although I think it's pretty obvious lol.

Now, don’t be alarmed. I had to see exactly what sort of creature could inspire our Doctor to such new heights of idiocy. Because, I’m sure you know, Ms. Does-Her-Research, Time Lords don’t really ‘do’ marriage. The concept exists, of course, but it’s an enterprise of the eccentric. The black sheep cousin who rocks up to Nana’s funeral in a studded leather jacket, sure, they’d have a wife. Everyone would be whispering about it. But it’s very much not the done thing. So naturally, we both married young. Rebels do. And that’s when you learn the real lesson: it’s not just that sentimentality is discouraged. It’s a dangerous liability when it goes well, and when it doesn’t? You think you’ve seen a messy divorce? That’s when the funny collars come off. No, the real problem is: it ends, one way or the other. One’s with solicitors, and the other is worse. And if you’re the unlucky one left standing, you may find you have more lifetimes left to think about it than you’d like. I had to take a little peek at the one who made him forget such a lesson. Of course, he is a moron. Spending centuries going round picking up humans? It’s like, you keep on buying hamsters, then come crying to me when it’s time to get out a shoebox? Maybe after the first twenty you’d start to see a pattern?

🕊️ a sweet quote (something sweet, fluffy! maybe it's cute or funny banter! or sappy wedding vows!)

Throughout their centuries together, the Doctor counted every day spent with River as a good day. But some of them were just that little extra bit good. Some days, her eyes lit up with immediate recognition of his age, and she greeted him as “husband” before even mentioning diaries. He did so love when she was naughty, even if it was their own rules she was bending. Some days, for example, they narrowly avoided being burnt as a ritual sacrifice on the way to dinner, then rushed back to the TARDIS on the sort of giddy adrenaline high that pushed dinner right to the bottom of the list. “We should be burning at the stake right now!” River scolded as he shook out his umbrella. “It’s lucky for you you’re pretty.” “You were in no danger. I knew something would come up.” “No you didn’t!” “I did! I promise I did!” “Rubbish,” she declared, striding up to the console and pulling off her gloves. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, shooting a wry glare back at him, and very nearly managed to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The Doctor was overcome with such a fierce wave of adoration, his rational mind checked out entirely for a moment. “Okay,” he admitted as he stepped up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and dipped his head; inhaled the cool, earthy scent of ozone and petrichor that clung to her hair, mingling with her perfume. “I was just hoping,” he muttered in her ear. “And they got lucky. We wouldn’t be the ones burning if they dared lay a finger on you.”

You ask me for a quote you get a friggin novel because I have no self control. Thank you anon if you're still around, I hope you see this!!! I am going to try to write more and complete the second chapter if not before the holidays then very soon after!!

#im so bad at life im sorry #fic wip #river song #the doctor x river song

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 1 month

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25th August >> Mass Readings (USA)

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Joshua 24:1–2a, 15–17, 18b We will serve the Lord, for he is our God.

Joshua gathered together all the tribes of Israel at Shechem, summoning their elders, their leaders, their judges, and their officers. When they stood in ranks before God, Joshua addressed all the people: “If it does not please you to serve the LORD, decide today whom you will serve, the gods your fathers served beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you are now dwelling. As for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.” But the people answered, “Far be it from us to forsake the LORD for the service of other gods. For it was the LORD, our God, who brought us and our fathers up out of the land of Egypt, out of a state of slavery. He performed those great miracles before our very eyes and protected us along our entire journey and among the peoples through whom we passed. Therefore we also will serve the LORD, for he is our God.”

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 34:2–3, 16–17, 18–19, 20–21

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall be ever in my mouth. Let my soul glory in the LORD; the lowly will hear me and be glad.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

The LORD has eyes for the just, and ears for their cry. The LORD confronts the evildoers, to destroy remembrance of them from the earth.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

When the just cry out, the LORD hears them, and from all their distress he rescues them. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

Many are the troubles of the just one, but out of them all the LORD delivers him; he watches over all his bones; not one of them shall be broken.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

Second Reading Ephesians 5:21–32 This is a great mystery, regarding Christ and the Church.

Brothers and sisters: Be subordinate to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is head of his wife just as Christ is head of the church, he himself the savior of the body. As the church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church and handed himself over for her to sanctify her, cleansing her by the bath of water with the word, that he might present to himself the church in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. So also husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one hates his own flesh but rather nourishes and cherishes it, even as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. This is a great mystery, but I speak in reference to Christ and the church.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation John 6:63c, 68c

Alleluia, alleluia. Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life; you have the words of everlasting life. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel John 6:60–69 To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.

Many of Jesus’ disciples who were listening said, “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” Since Jesus knew that his disciples were murmuring about this, he said to them, “Does this shock you? What if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life, while the flesh is of no avail. The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life. But there are some of you who do not believe.” Jesus knew from the beginning the ones who would not believe and the one who would betray him. And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by my Father.” As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him. Jesus then said to the Twelve, “Do you also want to leave?” Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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hastalavistabyebye · 2 months

Text

Trans Clone Week : Day 4

Prompts : During War time; Trans4Trans ; hair braiding ;

(https://www.tumblr.com/sunshineprincejeremyknox/722124686135361536?source=share)

@clonefandomevents

------

“Close your eyes,” Dagger said.

Her grin was absolutely wicked and her eyes shining with challenge and mischief. She was so amazingly beautiful.

Shark raised an eyebrow to her riduur but complied. For good measure, she even presented her hands in front of her, palms up, and made a show of waiting for whatever Dagger had planned.

A soft fabric was placed in her arms, a few seconds later.

“Alright, cyare. You can open your eyes.” The medic could hear the smile full of teeth of her wife. It made her own version of it bloom on her lips.

She didn't last a second to inspect the mysterious item. It looked like a nat-born top, similar to the ones they kept for black-ops and the such. It was cut short on the bottom part in a way she knew would let its wearer’s stomach show. In front of her, Dagger was positively radiating glee in the most wonderful ways. Shark understood why the moment she turned the cloth around and saw what was written on the front.

“Trophy husband ?” She laughed right away. “Please, tell me you found one to give to the Commander !”

“Of course, cyare, you know me. But that one spells “Trophy wife” in glitter, to be more accurate, you know. I’ve shown it to Thorn too, just to make Fox absolutely suspicious of what we have waiting for him.”

“You’re perfect.” Shark yanked her riduur in a passionate kiss. Dagger was the best and she’ll marvel until her last breath at being the one to be called her wife. The medic was the luckiest bastard of this hellish Galaxy and knew it. “Oh, he’s going to hate that he’ll love it.”

“Mmh, that he will,” Dagger murmured against Shark’s lips, foreheads pressed into a mirshmure’cya. “And what do you think of my present ?”

“It’s making me regret not being able to leave HQ often enough to show it off at one of the Lower clubs. I would look dashing in it and at your arm.”

They smiled at each other, giggling like cadets. Both of them hated nat-borns’ so-called clubs. But Shark would have been one hell of a sight even at 79’s. One of the most feral medics of the GAR, the famous hunting medic of the Guard, wearing a ‘Trophy husband’ croc top showing all of the weapons strapped at her waist, at the arm of Dagger, herself very well known for her very effective use of her weapons during chases across Coruscant. They would have been terrifyingly dashing, as Stone had put it once. Any club they would have walked into would have ended as respectful as they make them. No experienced wrongdoer would be dumb enough to stay around when those two were out and ready for trouble. And any vod knew to be on their best behavior, even when blackout drunk, when the couple was roaming around.

Shark took her uppers off and put the shirt on in its place. As she had guessed, it seated a few centimeters under her tits, not enough to show anything but enough to be a tease, especially if she raised her arms.

She barely had the time to turn her gaze back on Dagger before getting a lap full of Shock Trooper and a kiss that left her breathless, all teeth and licks and sucking, devouring passion.

“You look beautiful.” Dagger purred against her sensitive lips, after those few minutes of methodical attention.

“So do you,” she answered, weaving her fingers in her riduur’s river of thin braids that the medic did at the beginning of their arranged date hours. “I love you, kal’ika.”

“So do I, meshla.”

----

Kal'ika : little blade

#i'm a bit conflict with this one #don't really know what to think of it #but have my feral girls anyway !#oc: dagger #oc: shark #sw #tcw #coruscant guard #trans clone week 2024 #trans clone week #ficlet #writing #cloneshipping

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mariana-oconnor · 1 year

Text

The Cardboard Box pt 3

OK, so this was mostly solved last part, with a few hanging threads, mainly being the motive and who the second ear belongs to. Our working theory is a man that Mary's husband thought she was having an affair with. But how that all relates to Sarah Cushing and why he sent the ears to her specifically. My best guess is she was encouraging Mary to leave him and 'befriend' this other guy in some way?

“Lestrade has got him all right,” said Holmes, glancing up at me.

Welp, that was quick. I guess no one is dying in a mysterious shipwreck this week, even though there are actual sailors involved this time.

“In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test our theories” [“the ‘we’ is rather fine, Watson, is it not?”]"

Are we going to get Holmes' commentary throughout? That would be fun. Throwing shade at Lestrade here for taking partial credit for everything. Fair.

@ameliahcrowley did the research about May Day and apparently it wasn't in use as a distress signal yet at this time, which surprised me. So this ship name is just retroactively ironic, which is one of the best flavours of irony.

"I found that there was a steward on board of the name of James Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve him of his duties."

This guy has zero chill, which we already knew because he was going around murdering his wife and sending ears to her relatives, but he fails so completely at getting away with it, it's kind of farcical.

I guess it makes sense that he'd be a bit weird after killing his wife. But at the same time, the kind of effort it takes to cut off ears, pack them in salt and send them off to women in Croydon indicates a level of thought and planning that is clearly not evident anywhere else in his crime. So weird.

"He jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call a couple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed to have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for the darbies."

This reads as though the guy is feeling guilty or remorseful, but please see prior notes about taking the time to pack ears in salt. The remorse was a really delayed reaction, huh?

Mr Browner's understanding of what he did dawning:

"...bar a big sharp knife such as most sailors have..."

If he has a big sharp knife, why did he use a blunt one to cut the ears off? Unless the blunt just meant 'not as sharp as a scalpel', which seems an unfair benchmark of sharpness to put on a knife. Not everyone can be a scalpel.

"The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be an extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me in my investigation."

This isn't exactly a lie. Except it kind of is. Lestrade at least claimed to think it was just the medical students the whole time, but at the same time he called Holmes in, which seems like a weird thing to do if he was convinced it was a prank?

"I tell you I've not shut an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I get past all waking."

Again, this is strange to me. Like did he get through the whole posting of the ears and did the guilt set in immediately after that, or did he do that while feeling guilty? which makes no sense. I do not understand this man.

"Ay, the white lamb, she might well be surprised when she read death on a face that had seldom looked anything but love upon her before."

And this does not read like the words of someone who feels remorse. I feel like Jim Browner is a very disturbed individual. This is very creepy. Anyone who compares another person to a 'white lamb' is instantly ten times creepier than they were before. I'm already getting 'my wife drove me to it' delusional self-justification from his language.

"For Sarah Cushing loved me—that's the root of the business—she loved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife's footmark in the mud than I did of her whole body and soul."

Oh, I did not see that coming. Although thinking back, the way her interactions with him were referred to were a bit weird. I thought it was just a Victorian flare for language coming through, but no.

I said last time that Mary needed better sisters. She really needed better sisters.

"The old one was just a good woman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah was thirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married."

A devil and an angel? Right, this guy has unrealistic expectations of the women in his life, I can tell you that right away. The Madonna-Whore complex called, Jim, it thinks you might have a problem.

For someone who is so guilty he can't sleep, Jim Browner is trying very hard to seem like the victim here. Dude murdered two people and cut off their ears and he's determined that it's Sarah's fault. I'm not saying she had nothing to do with it, but seems like he's having a little trouble with accountability here.

Also, her seduction of him is very... like she took hold of his hand and looked at him? That's all she did? I was expecting something more overt. Although this is the Victorian era, I guess maybe that's pretty overt by their standards? Or he misread the entire situation.

"Things went on much as before, but after a time I began to find that there was a bit of a change in Mary herself. She had always been so trusting and so innocent, but now she became queer and suspicious, wanting to know where I had been and what I had been doing, and whom my letters were from, and what I had in my pockets, and a thousand such follies."

This whole thing reads very strangely. 'so trusting and so innocent', and the pedestal he seems determined to put his wife on. It's all a little icky. He seems like a remarkably unreliable narrator.

OK, maybe it happened like he says. We have no evidence in the text contradicting him as of yet. But at the same time we only have his word for any of this and it's possible that he hit on Sarah rather than the other way around, she told Mary. OR that neither of them was hitting on each other, but they both thought the other one was hitting on them and things... spiralled.

"I can see now how she was plotting and scheming and poisoning my wife's mind against me."

If this story hadn't ended with him murdering people and mutilating their corpses, I'd be more inclined to believe him at face value, but knowing the extremes he went to, I feel like this is just massive paranoia.

"And then this Alec Fairbairn chipped in, and things became a thousand times blacker."

Ah, we finally get to the owner of the second ear. Alas, poor Alec. You were doomed by the narrative.

“‘It was only a little thing, too. I had come into the parlour unexpected, and as I walked in at the door I saw a light of welcome on my wife's face. But as she saw who it was it faded again, and she turned away with a look of disappointment."

His entire motive is based on two moments when he saw a look in a woman's eyes? Are you kidding me, Mr Browner? Are you a telepath? Can you read their minds? You have no evidence of literally anything and you just murdered people?

Maybe we're getting to the evidence. Maybe you're going to walk in on them in a compromising position, or find a love letter, or overhear a incriminating conversation. But so far all we have is 'my sister-in-law was upset I didn't enjoy her company and held my hand and made eye contact with me' (which I agree was a bit weird, but not conspiracy worthy) and 'my wife looked like she was looking forward to talking to someone who wasn't me'.

“You can do what you like,” says I, “but if Fairbairn shows his face here again I'll send you one of his ears for a keepsake.”

OK, no. You're just going straight to threats of violence. No further proof needed.

“‘Well, I don't know now whether it was pure devilry on the part of this woman, or whether she thought that she could turn me against my wife by encouraging her to misbehave.'"

The paranoia and entitlement is so strong in this one. He's completely irrational. We're all agreed on that, right? Maybe he was right about everything, but he's based all of his conclusions on...

heh...

He's based all his conclusions on vibes.

I played myself.

At least I didn't kill anyone over it.

"'How often she went I don't know, but I followed her one day, and as I broke in at the door Fairbairn got away over the back garden wall, like the cowardly skunk that he was. I swore to my wife that I would kill her if I found her in his company again, and I led her back with me, sobbing and trembling, and as white as a piece of paper.'"

This is slightly more incriminating, but given that there was a threat made to cut off the man's ears, that seems enough reason for him to run away. And death threats are never cool.

"'The thought was in my head as I turned into my own street, and at that moment a cab passed me, and there she was, sitting by the side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and laughing, with never a thought for me as I stood watching them from the footpath.'"

Honestly, at this point if she was having an affair with him I'm kind of okay with that. Mr Browner is clearly paranoid, violent and unstable. Divorce wasn't really an option for her because Victorian divorce laws were sexist and terrible, and from Browner's earlier description Fairbairn seems like a pretty cool guy. I hope she at least had fun before her husband brutally murdered her.

OK, point of Victorian etiquette, was it considered scandalous to be alone in a cab together? To me that's far less intimate than being found alone in a house together. But chatting in a cab? I suppose there isn't a chaperone, so maybe.

“‘Well, I took to my heels, and I ran after the cab. I had a heavy oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the first; but as I ran I got cunning, too, and hung back a little to see them without being seen.'"

Either you couldn't think straight OR you could think straight enough to be cunning. You can't have it both ways. That's not how it works. EITHER you're blinded by jealousy and commit a crime of passion, OR you're thinking through your plan. My dude, you're undermining your own argument (although, as mentioned, the ear thing already did that).

They do seem to be having a very nice date. Good for them. Pity about the murderer lurking in the shadows.

And he's spending an entire day stalking them. Yeah, no, Mr Browner, we're way outside of 'blind jealous rage' murder. You hired a boat specifically to hunt them down and kill them without witnesses. This is now officially premeditated.

"'I cleaned myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what had passed. That night I made up the packet for Sarah Cushing, and next day I sent it from Belfast'."

Yeeeaaah, those are not the actions of a remorseful person.

You're just a dick.

If only she'd had good sense and just run the fuck away with Mr Fairbairn and changed her name. Genuinely, usually I'm super against infidelity in all forms, but you seem like a real piece of work. Your story is so full of inconsistencies and irrational jealousy and paranoia that I can't believe half of it.

"'I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two faces staring at me—staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow; and if I have another night of it I shall be either mad or dead before morning.'"

Can confirm: you are already 'mad'. Your actions were not those of a mentally stable person. Not that that's why you did it. You clearly have problems, but loads of people deal with problems without killing people. You just suck, my dude. And honestly, zero sympathy.

'I feel super guilty about the crime I threatened to commit, then deliberately set up so as not to get caught, then followed up with acts of bodily mutilation, cover-up, and terrorising of the victim's relatives. But now I feel super guilty.'

Yeah, this whole account is just one long rant about how he's not really responsible. It was the women who drove him to it. By... talking to men and... looking at him funny.

“What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as far from an answer as ever.”

Super philosophical at the end there Holmes. Seems like Holmes at least is taking Browner at his word about Sarah, or else the cycle doesn't really make any sense here. Even if Sarah did put events in motion, it's not really a cycle. It's just... a couple of rather horrible people being horrible to each other.

Or maybe he's referring to the death penalty?

Well, this one was weird. Given ACD's predilection for spiritualism and the afterlife, it's possible he intended the guilt plaguing Browner here to be the spirits of the people he murdered, which - given his lack of accountability throughout his own narrative - actually makes more sense. But there's no evidence of that in the text, so that's just me. But mark it down as another score on the 'supernatural Holmes universe' tally.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Cardboard Box #long post #I really tried to take everything at face value here #I just couldn't #'seldom looked on her with anything but love' rings false when you look back on it #You threatened to kill her #Browner reads as a completely unreliable narrator #Maybe Sarah was obsessed with him but we literally have nothing to support that except his word #It seems likely that his wife was emotionally involved with Fairbairn #but given what we know of him I can't really blame her

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