#but this is the version i got from the university library years ago

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

happy main title tuesday here's the main title theme from the sea hawk

[dcxdpdabbles]

Love you writing, though i don't have a favorite Alfred's boy is in my current list to reread. I had an idea that i saw about Dick and his taste in partners and Jazz fits the type competent red heads. Anyway my prompt is Dick gathering his exes (Wally, Babs, and Kori) to meet help him woo his current crush Jazz Fenton. From there it could btanch off many different ways like Jazz showing off Wack Fenton shenanigans or maybe like midway he sees one of his brothers making more progress with their crush on Danny. Or adding a twist of a deaged Dani or Danny.

"Don't make it obvious, but she just walked in," Dick whispers to his friends. However, Babs is the only one who actually listens since both Wally and Kori nearly break their necks by how fast they turn around.

A woman with long, fiery hair walks in with an adorable pair of five-year-old twins. She again carries the books the teens had borrowed and makes a beeline for the return box.

Like clockwork, once the books are returned to the metal box, the twins tug her toward the astronomy section, babbling about star facts in perfect sync.

Her hair bounces with each step, swinging behind her like a waterfall made of sunsets.

It was her long smooth hair that had first captured Dick's attention (he has a type sue him) when the small family had first started appearing at Gotham's public library. He had been bringing Babs some lunch that day, hidden behind the counter so Babs' boss wouldn't see him, and had been in prime position to watch one of the twins flout up to reach a book on the top shelf.

He was intrigued by the boy's apparent meta abilities, but what really surprised him was how easily he used his powers. Maybe it was due to his young age or how the woman didn't discourage his powers.

She reminded him to use "Indoor flying" in the same tone he heard parents tell their kids to use their "indoor voice". Metas weren't as rare as people wanted them to be but to see someone so casual about them was.

It was honestly uplifting to see a family so open about it. The little girl with her also seems to be a meta, for not even minutes later, she phases through an aisle instead of walking around, and the woman doesn't even bat an eye.

She only sticks her hand out the aisle to tell the little girl to not walk away from the science fiction section.

Dick hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, even when she made the little girl blow her nose using tissue from her purse or when she had started lecturing the children for running around in a foreign language.

Since then, he has returned to visit Babs every Thursday at two. The woman would bring the twins every week at the same time and even thought Dick had attempted to walk over to her, it seemed as if the universe it self got in the way.

She would get a call. The kids would need the bathroom. She began reading to the children, or they would rush in and out. He didn't want to come off as creepy, so he didn't follow her around, only watching her when she wandered back into sight.

To avoid being a creep, he also refrained from asking Babs any information about her. He wanted to introduce himself to the Libary goddess himself.

He found himself daydreaming of her. Fantastic conversations and dates. Could even picture introducing her to Bruce and the others. It wasn't long before he let it slip about his fast-developing crush to his friends- and exes- who were excited to see the first civilian he's ever been interested in.

Walley and Kori had strong-armed him into bringing them along this week, insisting they could help him speak to her. It's not that Dick couldn't. It's been so long since he genuinely wanted to flirt with a civilian.

He long ago mastered the art of flirting, but it was to make a watered-down version of Brucie Wayne. It was nothing but a mask to keep his second life a secret. He was worried he had gotten too used to dating heroes and would scare her off before they could really be something.

"I said don't make it obvious!" He hisses as Babs chuckles. She is typing away on her laptop, not bothering to raise her eyes as she waves her hand.

"Relax, they aren't even looking at us."

"She's gorgeous!" Kori gasps.

"She's a redhead," Wally observes with a smirk. "Why am I not surprised? Who are the little ones?"

"Her younger siblings," Babs answers, surprising Dick. He had thought she was their mother by the way she behaved. He had been a bit worried she was married or already had a boyfriend, but if she had been a single mother, he would be happy and willing to step in as a father. "The whole family just moved to Gotham. Their parents are opening a new business here I think."

"What kind of business?" he asks, his eyes tracing the way her face lights up with a laugh. He can't hear what the little boy says, but it must have been humorous since she is chuckling for a while with him.

His heart flutters a little. He's never seen a smile so perfect and genuine before.

"Ecto-research and Ecto-defenses," Babs says with a straight face.

"What is that?" Kori asks, leaning on the counter to read over Bab's shoulder. Technically she shouldn't be sitting on the counter like this, nor should Dick or Wally be on the other side with Babs, but her boss was out for the day.

And Bruce owned the building.

"I'm not sure. I've been trying to look into it since Jazz told me about it on Monday." Babs replies, clicking between a webpage titled Fenton Works and Ectobeings. "It's not that they hidden the information, but it's a bit out there. The term ghost appears a lot, so I'm assuming they are ghost hunters and researchers."

"A daughter of ghost hunters.....almost as odd as a son of circus performers." Wally nudges Dick with his elbow, making the other smile, even if he blushes a little when the little girl snaps her gaze at them. "You have a change, Wonder Boy!"

"Please don't call me that. People are going to think I'm associated with Wonder Woman."

"Please, as if Wonder Woman would waste her time on you," Wally laughs, then leans closer. "I bet you could ask her about the family business over dinner."

"That would be a great opener," Kori agrees. "From my personal experience, men become much more attractive if they show interest in my family business."

"Your family business was being royal warlords," Babs tells her, which makes Kori stand up with pride.

"We had a long history of battle!"

Dick opens his mouth to answer, only to have a young voice cut him off. "You're royalty, too?"

In shock, he glances down, not realizing the little girl had sneaked up on them. She blinks large blue eyes at him with an innocent expression that only children this young can make. She is holding a book about the fictional Prince Dorathea and her tales of the Dragon necklace.

It was a new young adult novel by an anonymous author, taking the fantasy genre by storm. Dick should know since he was obsessed with reading the series too.

"I am. Princess Kori, heir to the throne." Kori tells her with a smile. She had never been that worried about her secret identity even though she appeared human right now- she was wearing a glamor necklace that Zatanna had whipped up for her so she could walk around like a regular person. She then winks, "Don't tell the government."

The little girl nods seriously as if she would take the secret to the grave. She's adorable. "I won't. I'm hiding from them too."

"Why's that?"

"I'm a princess." She says, lowering her voice into a stage whisper. Dick's heart melts. "My brother's the king."

"Danielle Fenton, what did I say about wandering around?" The goddess herself demands, striding over to them. Floating behind her is the little boy staring at the adults with wide, gleeful eyes.

Instead of becoming scared of a scolding like most children, Danielle throws a fist into the air. "I shall not be contained!"

The woman snorts. "I'll ground you."

"Let's not be too hasty," Danielle answers quickly as the little boy starts laughing, slowly turning in the air with his laughter. Dick watches, intrigued. It almost seems as if he was lying in an invisible hammock.

The redhead rolls her eyes, turning her gaze to the rest of the adults with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about her."

"No worries, Jazz. Danielle wasn't a bother, but you should listen to your sister and not walk around alone." The last part is directed at the little girl who starts to float upwards. "By the way, these are my friends. Wally, Kori, and Dick."

"Nice to meet you all." Jazz replies, and Dick can only offer her a wave as his tongue seems to have become lead. What is wrong with him?! "I'm Jasmine Fenton but call me Jazz. This is Danny and Danielle. Can we check these books out?"

"Sure. Guys, move out of the way for a bit." As Babs helps her, Wally yanks Dick to the side.

"Dude, are you okay?"

" I think I'm in love."

"Oh no." Says Kori with wide eyes. "We lost him.

None of the three notices the glowing blue eyes of a flouting little boy watching their huddle, nor do they notice the immense power resting behind such a youthful face.

[k-slla]

Before you continue to reading I'm letting you know that in here is a major spoiler for Spn se15.ep20 - you've been warned 🥲

Warnings: all angst this one, show level violence, death

WC: 2,222

I am sorry, but kind of I am not- I've cried a lot writing this and I hope that you will too..🤍

All mistakes are mine!

My Masterlist

Enjoy!

You sat at the library table, staring at the working voice recorder placed on the table in front of you. You didn’t even know what pushed you to do these recordings. Maybe you wished, deep in your heart, that somehow  some version of Dean from an alternate universe would find them. All that sorrow, grief and pain that you went through from losing a soulmate of your world, should probably have some effect on them, too, right? He wouldn’t be the Dean you’re talking about right now, but he’d know that in some other timeline he was loved, he’s gone and you’re missing him, a lot. You wanted to hope so at least.

Maybe it was just to get those feelings out that were burning your insides like acid. Even if it was the same story told by you every day. Maybe it was just your way to deal with losing him.

Well, whatever the reason was, you had no one you needed to explain yourself to. 

Some days it was just maddening, being all alone in the Bunker. Sam had left a long time ago. He didn't forget Dean, but he definitely moved on. You stayed put, you couldn't take the needed step to move out or to try move on. All connections with Jody and Donna and even Claire slowly died off and there was no one left for you to go to other than the recorder now waiting for you to speak your mind. Perhaps that was just your fate. Who could change that?

“Hey, Dean, it’s me. Today is..” you sucked in a quick breath. “Today marks the full year that you’ve been gone now.” You continued quietly. November 19th. You couldn’t believe that it’s already been a year without him. “Each day getting closer to today, it has gotten harder for me to climb out of bed in the morning. Every morning when I awoke, I looked beside me in bed and you weren’t there. You haven't been there for a year and I miss you, Dean. I miss you so much.” You thought you had already shed all your tears, but no - they still kept pouring every morning, day and night. 

“And I miss Sam, too. I know that I’ve probably said it a million times before, but…Well, Sam moved out of the Bunker not long after we gave you..” Following words scraped your throat like thorns. “..the burial. And I completely understand that. He didn’t want to stay here anymore. I can’t blame him. I couldn’t leave and now it’s just lonely here. He begged that I’d let him take Miracle with him. I know how much you loved that pup. I miss him, too. But believe it or not, Sam left me the Baby for now. I did tell him that this was your legacy, your father's legacy and he agreed that when the day comes, Baby would be left to his eldest.” You smiled through tears that were silently running down your cheeks, thinking of Sam someday having kids. 

Something that Dean never got to enjoy for his own. Talking about everything over and over again eased you in some way. Even if it was for the day.

“I still have a hard time thinking about that night. Nightmares even. That was supposed to be your last hunt. We were almost out. And…And it was your last hunt.” 

You and Dean did have dreams. Big dreams for your future without Chuck, monsters and hunting. You never told anyone, but you and Dean were very close to trying to start a family. 

You definitely had hoped for a little Mini-Dean. Both of you were so excited, when you had all your late night pillow talks about family and kids, thinking about names even. He would've been an amazing father, you were absolutely certain of that.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Your voice broke. You figured that if it wasn't for you talking to this recorder on a daily basis, you'd probably go mute. You and Sam texted, very infrequently, once a month or so. He gave a promise to Dean, to look out for you, but it wasn't his fault that you were the one drawing back from him. Even with a text a month, you still felt like you were hanging over him like some shadow from his past, clawed to his back, keeping him from moving on. And you didn't want that, so you’d rather not speak at all. 

“What am I supposed to do?” You repeated with a whisper. You still hunted sometimes, if you had the energy for that or if it happened to be close to you. But it was a rare sight. You did some odd jobs, just to have some money for food to keep you going. But you didn't need much. Meal a day was enough to sustain you after all the hard work of sitting at the library or sleeping. 

Honestly you felt like you were fading away staying in the Bunker. But also there was nowhere for you to go.

“We were so close. So close, Dean, to get to our dream…and still…” You couldn't stop the tears that were now free falling. Memories of that night forced themselves into your consciousness. 

A simple routine vampire hunt. You had to admit, you were a little bit nervous, but still, there were the three of you together, so you knew the chances of anything happening were slim. But there were more vamps than you all had expected and it turned out to be a struggle. You were all battling for your lives there. Everything happened so quickly. One second Dean was fighting with one of them, the next moment he was across the room, pinned against the post.

Sam quickly took care of the vamp who had attacked Dean, while you fought with one on your own. Sam came to help you out, and when you took a look around, you saw all the headless bodies laying around. Neither of you didn't even realize at first that Dean hadn't moved after the attack, not before he called out to you. “ Y/N, I- I can't..” 

Sam reacted first and ran to him. “Hey! Hey, hey, don't move, Dean. We'll get help for you. It'll be okay.” Dean took a few quick breaths in. “No, Sammy. It's…I think it's pierced.. right through.” He looked at his stomach and your eyes followed, and you saw a tip of a metal spike coming through.

“Dean! No, no, no…please no! Sammy, help him!” You yelled hoarsely, while your hands traveled all over Dean's body, trying to find the best way to get him off there.

“No, Y/N, sweetie. No.” Dean remained calm when he looked at you. “You can't move me. I'm sorry. I don't think I have long left…” He spoke quietly, a few tears running down his cheeks. You stood in front of him, barely able to stay up as he brought up his hand to your cheek. 

“I love both of you. So much.” His eyes shifted between you and Sam. “Please..Y/N, can I - can I talk with Sam for a second?” You nodded and shut your eyes tightly, fighting tears. “Of course, honey.” You let go of him and walked a little bit further to give them a moment. 

You sat down on the ground and looked at the brothers, who were now saying their goodbyes to each other. This wasn't how the hunt was supposed to end. This wasn't how everything was supposed to end. It was too soon. Just a simple vampire hunt had turned so quickly into this nightmare. 

With his last strength Dean was holding onto Sam's shirt. “You’ll have to look out for her, Sammy. For me. She'll need you out there..” You heard Dean say quietly. “And-” Dean's voice had started to quiver. “I love you so much, my baby brother. I-I need you to tell me…” he took a deep breath to steady his voice and looked Sam straight in the eyes. “I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need to hear that from you, Sammy.” Both of them had tears silently streaming down their faces. “I’ll look after her, Dean. I promise..” You knew how much it hurt for Sam to say the following. “And it's okay, Dean..It will be okay.” he tried to smile through his tears. 

You saw how Dean looked at Sam. His baby brother, he’d taken care of almost all their lives. They've had all their fights over the years, differences on what's right or wrong, or how to save the world, but ultimately all that what was now left there, was love. The same, unconditional love that they've had for each other from day one.

Dean let go of Sam and looked at you on the ground. You knew what was coming and you were not ready for that. “Y/N, please..come here..” he was out of breath just a little. “Dean, no..” you were bawling and protesting against saying goodbye to him even though you still dragged yourself up and to him. 

“I'll be outside for just a second.” Sam moved a few steps back, to give you two a moment alone. You held onto Dean's shirt, keeping yourself from collapsing. You were shaking all over your body from the shock. Even now, standing face to face with him, you couldn’t look Dean in the eyes. “Baby, please look at me.” You shook your head and sobbed loudly, fingers clinging tighter onto his shirt. “I can’t, Dean!” 

Dean reached for your cheek, holding it softly and whispering. “I need you to…I need to see you..” You took a shuddering breath and finally gathered strength to look at him. You didn’t want to think of what’s going to happen tomorrow. All you could do for now, was to cherish the time you had with him. Even if it ends way too soon, you had to be happy with the time you had together. Not every hunter is as lucky as you and Dean were. You had to take everything from that moment that you had to say goodbye to Dean. 

For a little while, both of you stared at each other without saying a word. In his eyes you saw acceptance of what’s to come. He had already made peace with his fate. Now there was only left for you to do the same.

“You are beautiful, Y/N.” he smiled weakly. “I’m sorry..for leaving you, but I know you..” He closed his eyes for a second to take a deep breath to keep going. “I know you’ll be alright, but baby, you have to stop hunting..please promise me, Y/N, that you’ll get out.”

“Dean, I can’t…not alone..”

“Yes, you can.” His hand faintly squeezed yours that was still locked in his shirt.

You moved closer to Dean to rest your forehead against his. “Well...I don’t want to.” you sniffled.

“You have to, sweetheart…Tell me..it’s okay..you have to tell me it’s okay..for me to go.” he spoke fast but the words were quietly fading on his lips. This was it. 

You turned your head towards the door. “Sammy!” Turning back to Dean, you kissed him for the last time. “It’s okay, Dean, you can..you can let go..I love you.” Very faint smile appeared on Dean’s face as he saw Sam beside you again. 

“No bringing me back this time, Sam.” He wheezed out. “We’ll see each other again soon enough.” You rested your head on his shoulder and felt his whole body slowly starting to relax. Dean leaned into you and with his final breath, he quietly whispered into your ear. “I love you, Y/N.” 

From the corner of your eye you saw Sam break down on the floor. He sat there for a minute while you still held onto Dean. A moment later, Sam got up and pulled you into his strong embrace when you were still struggling to breathe. “We- we got work to do.” You sniffled and let go of Sam, sudden numbness taking over you. 

You didn't know how long you were sitting there, thinking about his last moments. You had no idea what time it was. Day or night, it started to feel all the same to you. 

Your brain had blocked out mostly everything after the goodbye. You knew you helped Sam with Dean and the pyre, but there were no emotions there. You were numb. Your moves were robotic. Both you and Sam stood by Dean as long as the fire was out. He wanted to get you away from that but you refused to leave. All you could think of while you were standing there, was that there was no one, nor will there be anyone you'll love more than Dean. 

“I love you, Dean. I'll speak to you tomorrow.” You whispered your last goodbye for the day before you turned off the recorder. Every day has become the same to you. You knew that one day you'll see him again and that was all that kept you going. Knowing that Dean was still waiting for you was all you needed to move forward.

Taglist: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @alternativeprincess94 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @il0vebeingdelulu

[ohbutwheresyourheart]

I have far too many half-written things in my google docs that have never seen the light of day, so I've decided to start buffing up the best ones and posting them unfinished. Maybe I'll come back to them later, or if not at least someone will hopefully enjoy reading them as they are.

First up: fragments from a WIP based on the concept that Eva did not actually die when the twins were children; instead, she got caught in the magic field of a Geryon and sling-shotted to the middle of Devil May Cry 5. What I wrote revolved more around the aftermath, and Eva trying to come to terms with the modern world, her losses, and not knowing what happened to her sons.

The building is echoing once the buffer of trash is removed. High ceilings dissipating into shadowy un-shapes. Dark corners shifting like predators turning and twisting. It’s too like the manor in those early days before she tamed it as Sparda had; made it respect her for all she was a mortal woman.

Made it respect her because she was a mortal woman.

She feels so tired, though; too tired to start a fresh war. So Eva lives with the shadows and whatever they may hide. At least it’s not outwardly hostile. Even if it was, by rights she shouldn’t be comfortable here.

This domain, this world, empty of her sons.

----

Swollen and fragile all at once, like a wine glass held too long in hot water - ripe for shattering with a single thoughtless move.

Midmorning is an inauspicious time for any demon to appear; Eva uses the reprieve to walk the city streets. Capulet is smaller than Red Grave but still a decent-sized city in its own right, checking off all the requirements: university, libraries, museums, churches, arts district, cheerful cafes dotting the sidewalk…

A few months ago -- no, thirty years ago -- she would have delighted in browsing the art supplies store, or checking the museum events for child-friendly exhibitions (but boys you must behave), or laughing into her coffee as two eight year olds descended into extensive debate on the merits of chocolate cake over strawberry tarts.

Now she buys peppermint tea in a to-go cup and takes it to the park.

Capulet is unexpectedly windswept in August, errant breezes stirring up the parched over-long grass around her ankles and pulling her hair, strand by strand, out of the confines of her ponytail.

The park is quietish; the younger children are out in force but a university city never really feels alive during the summer while the students are away. She follows the winding gravel path towards the duck pond at the centre and circles it once, twice. Watches other mothers with children tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks; running; playing.

“Why don’t you go and play, boys? Just--”

“Be careful, I know.” Vergil’s eyes, already so much older than they should be. “Why even try when we have to pretend?”

She’d never come up with a good enough answer for him.

Trish finds her on a bench. She sits down without ceremony or preamble, sunglasses her one concession to the summer day but otherwise as unaffected by the August sun as she no doubt will be by the coming autumn chill.

(Eva is rapidly coming to dislike Trish. Not because she is a demon, per se, but because it’s so fucking demoralising to constantly see the perfect version of herself; an Eva who will never succumb to sagging tits or a bloated stomach or even messy hair.)

“Are you all right? You’re sitting there like a ghost.”

Eva sips her tea to save herself from an immediate response. The cup is almost empty and the dregs are cold; she doesn’t remember drinking it.

“I’m fine.”

“Mm.” Trish doesn’t look as though she believes Eva in the slightest, but thankfully doesn’t push the issue. “Well, in that case, I have a favour to ask.”

“Oh?” Eva becomes instantly wary. Even as despondent as she feels, she knows better than to thoughtlessly promise a demon anything.

Something flashes in Trish’s eyes, gone too quickly for Eva to define it. The slow smile that curls the corners of her lips is equally inscrutable.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a favour for me, exactly,” she assures her, waving a perfectly manicured hand (again that familiar burst of jealousy towards a creature that could control their human physical appearance at will; Sparda had never had a bad hair day in his life--). “Lady heard you’re quite the dab hand with magic and she wanted to know if there were any goodies you could make for her, or teach her, or… whatever, really.”

“Last I saw, Lady has a tongue in her head,” Eva replies coolly.

Trish’s smile widens. “Oh, she does, but she’s out of town this week and when I saw you I thought I might as well ask now as later.”

“Mm.” Now it’s Eva’s turn to give Trish a searching look. She taps her nails (not perfectly manicured by any definition of the term) against her empty cup, wishing there was some left; she could make use of a timely pause to sip her tea and give herself a moment to think. “Well, I’m happy to talk to Lady about what she needs when she’s back in Capulet.”

“I’ll pass the message on.” With one flowing, elegant movement, Trish gets to her feet and stretches like a languid cat. “I’d better get going. See you around, Eva.”

“Yes, see you,” Eva mutters to her back; Trish is already going, sashaying through the park like she owns the place.

Something about this doesn’t smell right and Eva has sense enough to be cautious.

And yet… When she returns to Devil May Cry, she spends time going through the cupboards she’s restocked and checking her herbs. She uses the laptop Nero and Nico set her up with and finds websites that sell the supplies she needs -- whether advertised for witchcraft or otherwise -- and prepares lists of useful tricks; things that used to give her the edge she needed to survive another night.

It might not be useful for Lady -- if, indeed, Lady even asked the question -- but it’s useful for Eva. Practically, because she can’t be too careful even now, and in the abstract;  when she goes to bed that night, Eva sleeps better than she has in weeks. Her hands might be dry and her nails might be broken, but with her fingertips stained and smelling of herbs once again she almost begins to recognise herself.

----

To Eva’s palpable surprise, Lady does actually swing by Devil May Cry the following week.

“Trish told me she saw you,” Lady explains as she unholsters Kaline Ann and sets her down on the desk. “Did she tell you the kind of thing I was looking for?”

Because there is truth in this cover story that Lady and Trish have concocted between themselves. Yes, mainly they want to check on Eva, but it also never hurts for an old bitch to learn some new tricks.

And how does Eva look? Less like Trish than she used to; Eva has taken to shoving her hair up in a loose bun at the back of her head (the better, Lady assumes, to keep it out of her face now she was no longer playing lady of the manor) and has swapped her elegant black gown for a serviceable sweater and jeans. On her feet, Doc Martens. On her hands, broken nails and stained fingertips. In her eyes - fire.

“In passing.” Eva is - suspicious? Well, Lady can’t entirely blame her for still finding her feet with all of them, particularly Trish - though Trish herself had taken it as a compliment that Eva considered her enough potential trouble to be wary of.

“You’re welcome to anything I can teach you, although…” Eva’s gaze slides across and down to Kalina Ann. There is something distinctly hungry (covetous?) in her eyes. “You seem to have the offensive side pretty well covered.”

Lady grins, one firearms aficionado to another. “Give Nico a call if you want anything - you can’t beat the Goldsteins for guns and for you she’ll probably do it for free.”

That does it: the reserve cracks and Eva grins back. It is not the kind, motherly smile that Dante probably remembers. This is the smile that a tiger would give you if it could.

“Noted.” Eva pulls out a stack of books from one of the desk drawers. “Now, where do you want to start?”

It does not take long for Lady to be very, very glad she arranged this meeting. Eva is an absolute trove of knowledge. Much of it Lady already knows, and some of it is interesting but not strictly relevant -- Lady’s fighting style being much more full-on than Eva’s tactics lend themselves to -- but she still picks up plenty.

----

Nero is a dutiful, darling boy. He checks in with her, regular as clockwork, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice. He doesn’t know how to be with her, but he tries nonetheless.

He asks her, often, to visit him in Fortuna; to meet his girlfriend and the children they have adopted. Eva demurs and lets him think she’s still putting off the inevitable label of grandmother. It’s not a total lie, but it’s far from the primary reason. Maybe, perceptive as he is (and he is; Sparda’s eyes staring at her, seeing straight through her despite the un-Sparda-ish mouthing off), he knows that, too, and is giving her time.

It’s just… what if they come back, and she isn’t here to greet them? What if they think she’s truly gone again? She can’t hurt her boys like that a second time. She can’t let them down again when they look for her, reach for her. God knows she was worth fuck-all to them then and even less now, as much protection as a paper cut-out, but if they know she’s willing to put herself between the two of them and danger, then… that’s something, isn’t it? However little, it’s something.

The latest attempt comes on a late autumn evening. October is slipping away, each dark evening bringing them a little closer to Halloween. The most enterprising of the local children have already ventured out trick-or-treating with the excuse that the 31st is a school night, and Eva watches troupes of ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties parade past the windows with a bittersweet smile. She bought a bag of candy but doesn’t really expect any trick-or-treaters; Dante, with good reason, didn’t take pains to encourage the local kids to come calling.

Nero and Nico pull up, a welcome interruption to her descent into melancholy, out of breath but radiant from their latest skirmish. They stop by Devil May Cry on the pretence of leaving word for Morrison that payment is due, but Nero could do that himself on the little computer phone he carries around with him. In reality, they’re checking on her.

Eva doesn’t mind, really. She likes the company, and the kids (God, she calls them kids, they’re not that much younger than she is) are energetic; it’s hard to be actively maudlin when refereeing a shouting match. Nico especially is nosy and almost impossible to brush off or offend. On every visit, she wheedles a few more secrets out of Eva’s recipe books. Lately, Eva has been amusing herself by giving her tidbits and letting Nico reverse-engineer either the process or the product. Usually, she gets it right. Occasionally, she comes up with something better.

Tonight, though, Eva feels even harder to cheer than normal. Nico is put off by a wad of cash to get takeout -- Sparda laid the bounty of the world at her feet, but Nero and Nico are giving her a world tour laden with grease -- leaving Eva and Nero alone for half an hour. Nero has unchecked notebook privileges, as long as he’s careful with them, and he flicks through the entries thoughtfully.

“How did you learn all this stuff in the first place?”

“It depends which stuff we’re talking about.” Eva leans over his shoulder, pointing to the pages. “Sparda gave me a lot of them; things he’d picked up over the years, I don’t even know where from. But this one -- here -- that was from a hunter I partnered up with a lot in the early days. These tisanes were from my aunt. I used to say she should have been born a mediaeval herb-woman, except they’d have hung her for a witch.”

But Nero has stopped looking at the pages. He’s looking at her instead; thoughtful, in a way that is so Vergil it makes her heart skip a beat.

“What were they like, your family?”

“My family...” How long has it been since family wasn’t Sparda and the boys? How much longer since it meant the house she grew up in, and the people who populated it? “Oh, they -- they’re long gone. Better not to dwell. I have the boys,” Except she doesn’t. “And you, of course.”

Nero isn’t diverted, not for a moment, and the tilt of his eyebrows is pure Vergil. But he lets it go for now.

They taper off into silence. It lasts for a few minutes, Eva turning over possibilities in her mind. The words, when they come, are nevertheless a surprise; something she hadn’t meant to let loose.

“My father was a twin,” she says abruptly. “He and my uncle were thick as thieves. I always used to hope I’d have twins -- they say it skips a generation, so I thought it was likely I would -- and then they’d both always have a friend.”

She lets out a hollow little laugh. A friend. What a fucking fairytale.

Where did she go so wrong? Yes, the boys had always had their spats, but Eva had chalked that up to a mixture of their demonic blood and the marked differences in their personalities, watchful but not truly worried. She tried to encourage them to get along, to talk out their problems, but had also comforted herself that it was something they would grow out of as they got older and developed a bit more emotional maturity. Siblings fought; it was perfectly normal. Even she and Elijah--

Eva squeezes her eyes closed. She can’t think about Elijah right now.

A warm, calloused hand covers her own and Eva opens her eyes to see Nero watching her, his expression unusually serious.

“It’s not your fault,” he tells her, quietly but with a forceful conviction behind his words that reminds her of Sparda. “Yeah, they’re idiots, and they’re both kind of fucked up in their own ways, but it’s not your fault. They’d be a lot worse if it hadn’t been for you.”

Is that true? Eva isn’t sure which is worse; that she has ruined her boys, or that they would somehow be even worse without her.

But none of this is Nero’s problem. Grandson, she reminds herself once again. Grandson. Not a peer, not a comrade to lean on. A young man she needs to protect.

Pull yourself together, Eva.

----

Eventually, Eva gets sick of sitting around Devil May Cry waiting for something to happen.

She has never been a passive person. Eva makes things happen. Ever since Lady asked for some tricks to help her on hunts, Eva has been building up her supplies again. Restocking her herbs, potions, and powders. Dusting off Dante’s collection of magic books (a surprisingly comprehensive collection; Vergil had always been the bookworm, while Dante was too much of a fidget-bottom to sit still for five minutes)  and reminding herself of her favourite cantrips. Eventually, she contracts Nico to make her a pair of guns like her old ones.

The last time Eva felt so lost, she was drowning in grief for her husband and it ended in tragedy for her sons. She will not make the same mistake twice. Reaching back through the years, breaking down the walls she had so carefully built up, she remembers how it felt to be fifteen and alone; fifteen and desperate; fifteen and unstoppable.

Then she asks Morrison for some work.

As a young woman trying to break into this line of work, Eva had gotten used to the looks she elicited from these “brokers”. The initial amusement, thinking she’s joking. The surprise when they realise she isn’t. The patronising shake of the head as they assure her this is no work for a pretty little lady like her. Finally, the shock and anger as they hastily reconsidered their position with a gun jammed up against their throats.

Over time, she’d gotten a reputation for being an infernal bitch who was extremely good at what she did, which meant the work came easier. Eventually, by the time she met Sparda, she’d been running her own jobs without a broker at all - unless they were coming to her for a favour.

But that was then. Now she’s back to square one. Unproved. Untried. Untested. It’s aggravating but Eva knows she’ll have to just deal with it if she wants an in.

Because Eva is pretty sure she can talk Morrison into kicking a few jobs her way. Asking Lady, or Nero, or Trish to share, though? It will all be there - amusement, surprise, disbelief - and the worst thing of all is that they will be speaking not from baseless stereotyping but all too real knowledge.

Dante told us all about it, Eva. You barely lasted a minute when the demons attacked, isn’t that right? This is way too much for you.

No. She will work until she has beaten the softness out of herself. Until she can go back to them on an even footing. Until it’s second nature once again to have gunpowder on her clothes and the spark of magic at her fingertips. Until the Underworld has learned to fear Sparda’s whore again.

Then she will get their respect, rather than their pity.

Morrison drops by periodically for coffee and a chat. There hasn’t been any money-grubbing yet; Dante owns the office outright - Eva has seen the deed and it’s real enough - and the bills are being paid out of his last earnings. It won’t last forever, but it’s been enough to take one worry off Eva’s mind so far.

Instead, Morrison seems to simply enjoy her company, or maybe he just can’t kick the habit of showing up at Devil May Cry to see Dante. Whatever the reason, Eva enjoys his visits and his dry humour. What Morrison makes of her, she’s not sure; Eva had told him, in a tone that made it clear she was lying, that she was Trish’s long-lost sister. Morrison had simply chuckled and refrained from asking any questions.

That’s one thing Eva always did like about brokers; they’re the kind of people who don’t ask difficult, unnecessary questions.

“You’ve got this place looking real good, Eva.” Morrison looks around with genuine admiration and gestures with his lit cigarette to the spider plant growing ever larger in the corner. “Way better than Dante ever did. Mother of God, the state I’ve seen this office in… well. Maybe best not to elaborate too much there.”

Eva laughs, remembering how Dante always tried his best to weasel out of his chores. Even getting him to make his bed was a challenge. It seems he hasn’t improved with age.

“It’s certainly been quite the project. But, now that it’s done, I’ve been thinking I need something else to do.” Eva watches Morrison carefully, waiting for his reaction. “Do you have any work for me?”

Morrison smirks. “Getting bored already? Yeah, I got a few things on the back burner - the kind of stuff the other ladies think they’re too good for, if you catch my drift, and the kid really has got his hands full.”

...Okay, that was absurdly easy. Eva narrows her eyes, but Morrison doesn’t look like he’s trying to mock her. On the contrary, when he sees her expression, he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, I don’t control the work that comes in! Besides, pay is pay, am I right?”

“I’m looking for hunting work,” Eva says pointedly, wondering if he’s mistaken her meaning.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” Morrison chuckles as he takes a drag on his cigarette. “What, were you expecting me to say no? If nobody will do the work, I won't get paid either.”

“I…” Eva is floored. All of her preparation, all that time spent rehearsing her arguments, and it turns out she doesn’t need any of them. “I was expecting, uh…”

“Pushback?” Morrison gives her a knowing look. “Do you really think I’d have lasted this long with those ladies if I trotted out that kind of line? As far as I’m concerned, if you hang around with Dante, Lady, and Trish, then you know what you’re doing and you can take care of yourself.”

Morrison pulls a notebook out of his pocket and rifles through it, humming under his breath. He tears out a page and walks over to lay it on Eva’s desk.

“Here are the details. Just give me a call when you’re done with them and I’ll arrange your payment. Damages come out of your cut, mind you. If everything goes well, I’ll see what else I have for you.”

----

It really is grunt work, but Eva doesn’t mind; she’s not arrogant enough to think she could jump single-handedly into something like Red Grave, guns blazing.

The job also isn't urgent - hence Morrison being lackadaisical about bullying someone into taking it - which gives her the leisure of reconnaissance and planning time.

An empusa nest out on some waste ground that a local developer bought before noticing his unexpected squatters. Straightforward enough, although Eva takes more precautions than she thinks are necessary just in case. After all, she’s seen her judgement is far from perfect.

But in the end, all goes smoothly. No nasty surprises. Just some nasty stains on the concrete from empusas blown to kingdom come. Eva grimaces at them, hoping they don’t count as “damages”. The land is being developed anyway, right? Surely they’ll be putting down fresh tarmac?

In the end, Morrison does take a cut from her pay, but it’s less than she feared and so Eva swallows it with as much good grace as she can muster. The stack of notes is a reassuring weight in her hand. Ballast, though for (or against) what, she’s not entirely sure. The important thing is that she’s done a competent enough job that Morrison leaves her with the details of another couple of jobs. In this way a reputation is built.

“Morrison,” Eva calls out just before he leaves.

Morrison pauses on the threshold. There’s a beat before he looks back at her over his shoulder and Eva gets the impression he knows exactly what she’s about to ask.

“Do you think he’s coming back?”

Because Morrison is not Trish, or Lady, or Nero. He does not know her connection to these people. To Dante. So he has no reason to lie to her or spare her feelings.

He sucks in a breath, considering. “You know, I’d gotten to the point where I never thought I’d see anything Dante didn’t come back from. So many times I thought he was in way over his head, only for him to walk away laughing. But this job… this felt different from the start. Gave me a sort of -- premonition, you might say.”

A soft hum; something that might have been a laugh, if there was any humour in it, and Morrison shook his head.

“The truth is, Eva, I don’t know. I really don’t. He could come waltzing back in here tomorrow, carrying a pizza and laughing at us all for ever doubting him. Or we might never see him again.”

Eva sinks slowly into the desk chair, feeling the truth of it in her bones. A tidal wave of exhaustion crashes over her, threatening to drown her in one clean swoop. Tired of worry. Tired of uncertainty. Tired of never even having the cold comfort of a body to bury. Tired of that tiny speck of hope that even now refused to be snuffed out completely because, however ridiculous it was to expect it, there was still the chance--

“I knew someone else like that, once,” she hears herself say. “He never did come back.”

Morrison gives her a searching look. He seems, for a moment, to be on the verge of saying something more, but in the end refrains. Instead, he tips his hat to her.

“You take care, Eva.”

“Yeah,” Eva replies distantly. “You too, Morrison.”

----

The work is important for more than Eva’s ego.

Her blood sings in her veins once again. The hum of power at her fingertips, like the whine of electricity. A promise, maybe even a vow if you were so inclined to call it such, that one day in the none-too-distant future a small slice of the world would once again turn at Eva’s call and beckoning. She has known this once before when playing lady of the manor. Now, the power is both weaker, for lack of Sparda’s force bolstering her, and sweeter, for knowing it is all of her own clawing and devising.

Her blood sings and Eva tastes iron and lightning on her tongue. Her fingers smell of metal and herbs and something no mortal can rightly put words to; the tang of the Underworld and the burning sulphur of demons.

When Eva looks at her reflection in the chipped bathroom mirror and sees an old, familiar light in her eyes, she knows it is time.

Very little magic needs to be complicated. The point is will, and the directing of it. For those unfamiliar with the craft then the trimmings of rituals and candles can go a long way in finding that direction.

For those who live long enough to become old hands, just the thinking, coupled with the right runes, is enough. Eva takes a sharp knife, a handful of herbs, and a silver-backed mirror (in this, old ways are better; a mercury mirror would work better still, but this will do for now)... and she searches.

Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, soul of my soul, I seek thee now. Come to me, come to me, come to me…

It is a powerful spell. Kinfinding may not be enough to physically draw her boys forth from the Underworld, but it should at least show them to her in the scrying mirror.

Eva seeks until her blood runs dangerously thin and her head pounds and her vision begins to darken. She seeks further still until she knows herself at the very precipice of what she can safely come back from… and only then, with great reluctance, does she let the spell go.

She has not seen them, either of them, even once.

----

Eventually, it feels meaningless to even keep up the pretence she thinks the boys are coming back.

What has happened to them is almost immaterial. The nightmare scenarios are so numerous that eventually they blur together into one long snuff film that leaves her numb. Like Sparda, they were there and then they were not. Like Sparda, she will never know what exactly happened.

Devil May Cry becomes part tomb, part cocoon. She has saved enough money to keep Morrison at bay for a while even after Dante’s funds run out, and she continues to take work for the sake of it, though she doesn’t keep track of her income versus expenditures. If or when the money runs out, she’s not sure. It’s pointless to think so far ahead. Perhaps she’ll just die, like she should have before.

A wife without a husband. A mother without sons. Once, she would have vomited at the thought of a woman identifying herself by the men in her life, but somehow it crept up on her over the years and now she’s left with gaping, bloody holes that gung-ho feminist rhetoric does nothing to paste over.

Nobody seems to notice the change in her philosophy. Though, she gets precious few visitors anyway. Trish and Lady leave her to her own devices, having apparently satisfied their curiosity about her. Morrison has tapered off their tete-a-tetes and only shows up when he wants money. Nero is a busy boy these days.

One night she dreams about them. The dream is very similar to the ones she used to have about Sparda; lifelike, almost lucid dreaming, where everything was the same - she is in bed, having just awoken - except he is there, smiling gently, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

Sleeping in, Eva?

Dreaming about the boys is very similar. She dreams she awakens in the night to a sound downstairs. There is no panic of a break-in; nobody bothers her these days. Voices, muffled, from the floor below. Eva calmly gets out of bed, registering even the rustle of the sheets and the cold, bare wooden boards under her feet. She pads slowly out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs.

There they are, standing in the centre of the office, illuminated perfectly by a strip of moonlight through the window. It is like a picture. It is too perfect and too easy. This is how she knows she is dreaming.

Still, for the first time in months, her heart eases.

They are talking softly to each other, too softly for her to catch the words (there is a limit, she concedes, to just how much even her vivid imagination can conjure). Eva doesn’t mind. She stands at the mezzanine and soaks them in.

Dante gestures to the stairs and looks up. He freezes as their eyes meet. Vergil, a half-heartbeat behind his twin, mirrors him.

“...Hey,” Dante croaks, the gesturing hand that had fallen still now awkwardly waving. “We’re home!”

This is more than she expected. Eva’s throat constricts. Even her dreams of Sparda were not so vivid or so long.

“You’re late, boys,” she manages after a moment. “Dinner was hours ago.”

She is trying for levity, trying to play her part in this scene, trying to piece together something happy for when she wakes up, but her voice cracks halfway through the sentence and she finds herself choking on a sob.

Dante is halfway up the stairs in a moment, hand outstretched to her. Eva, too, is reaching out to her little boy and she cries out when she finally has her arms around him again.

She does not get even a heartbeat of joy before the world collapses into shadows and flames. Dante dissolves, her arms closing around thin air, and the staircase morphs into an endless corridor to hell. Her boys are nowhere to be seen, but she can hear them screaming.

Or maybe she just hears her own voice, screaming herself awake.

There are more dreams, afterwards; more recognisable for what they are. Her life runs before her eyes in reverse. Searching for the boys. Watching Sparda walk away for the last time. The face of every person she never saved. Then, at last, the denouement: Elijah, torn open. Her father and uncle staring sightless into an abyss. Her mother reduced to so many scattered chunks of meat.

Eventually, because Eva is someone who makes things happen, not someone things simply happen to, she makes the decision to go back. She has faced Red Grave; faced the ruined manor. It is time to face much older ghosts.

It is a private matter, and so Eva tells nobody of her intentions. She lets Morrison know she will be out of town on personal business, timeline uncertain; she will give him a call when she’s back. He is free, in the interim, to pass her usual work on to other sources.

For anyone else (because she still hopes, deep down, that her boys will one day come home), she leaves a note on her desk.

Out of town for a while.

Eva re-reads the brief scribble and wonders what else to add before realising there really is nothing more to add. No forwarding address or contact number, because she does not want anyone to find her. Anyone who wants her, can wait until she comes back.

She makes it ten minutes out from the city before she turns back to scribble an address at the bottom of her note.

Just in case.

----

Plane tickets are cheap these days, and she has a passport courtesy of Morrison, but Eva elects to drive. Call her old-fashioned, or even just plain curmudgeonly in her old age (ha), but Eva likes the hum of a good motor much better than the press of noisy crowds.

Besides, she’d need a car at the other end of the flight anyway, where she’s going. She can even call it a vacation if she finds a motel to spend each night in. If not -- she’s slept in a car before and it won’t kill her to do it again, especially when the rental is much more comfortable than any old banger she’s passed a night in before.

Highways turn to country lanes as she veers further and further off the beaten track. The temperature drops, too; winter in the shadow of the Appalachian mountains is nothing to sneeze at. Eva has forgotten a lot of things over the years (too many things), but she remembers that. Funny how events and people slide slowly but surely from her mind but sensory impressions remain: the icy, pinesap-tinged tang of morning air in winter; the crackle of a fire; the warm doughy smell and pillowy softness of homemade dinner rolls.

Become someone else, she’d told her younger son as their world burned around them. Change your name, change yourself, and hide. Not easy, no, nothing like easy -- but possible, for the right price. For the price of giving up who you were before.

Except no bargain is ever so neat and no transaction ever so complete.

[sjsmith56]

The Fae Elements, Part 6 - Of Love and Loss

Summary: While still in mourning Buck and Sage get married, then undertake the Solstice ritual to install her fae powers. Just before the final part of the ritual, disaster strikes.

Length: 8.2 K

Characters: Buck, Sage, Hope, Thor, Sam, Steve, Maria.

Warnings: Grief, guilt, mild sexual content, violence causing extreme injury, violence causing death.

Author notes: AI images were created by the author using Microsoft Copilot app in Designer mode. This is a long one, but it covers a lot of territory. I hope you liked this version of a fae world that co-exists alongside the modern one. Bucky with wings is 🔥. The pagan wedding vows have been taken from the website my wedding vows.com. They were slightly amended to use the term Creator instead of God, since pagans didn't worship one god.

<<Part 5

🌳 ⛰️ 🌊 🌕

Buck left the bed during the night, awakening me as he pulled himself out of my arms. I held onto his hand for several long moments, while he hesitated at the side of the bed.

"Don't go," I whispered. "Let me help you."

"I won't be long," he answered. "There's something I must do, and I can't rest anymore until I do it."

He left out of a door that seemed to lead to a terrace. By the time I got to the window he disappeared. I wanted to tell someone then I heard Hope's voice in my mind.

"It's alright, my brothers are with him," she said. "They go to comfort Richard's family. Meet me in the library if you don't want to be alone. The way will be shown to you."

I was still dressed from the previous night, but the clothes felt rumpled and uncomfortable, so I changed into a robe-like dress, then combed my hair and left the room. The way to the library was lit with a blue glow and I opened the door to where Hope sat in front of the fireplace. She smiled at me as I approached, reaching over and squeezing my hand as I sat next to her.

"I'm glad you were with him," she said kindly. "Mortals who write about the fae world think we don't care about our children like they do, but we feel just as deeply for them, worrying about their welfare, and hope we're raising them to be strong individuals, whether fae or mortal. Richard was a wonderful man, married with four children and eight grandchildren, one of them pregnant with his first great grandchild. He was a teacher, but in his retirement, he volunteered for a home building charity, sharing his love of carpentry that my father shared with him. His death will impact many people."

"I'm sorry. It seems like you all loved him very much."

I felt a wetness on my cheek and wiped it away.

"It's not your fault," said Hope. "You're not to blame for his death. They would have found a way no matter what. That they chose Richard was meant to weaken my father. He's been a strong king who has been incorruptible though they have tried." She smiled sadly at me. "The battle between the light and dark is elemental in itself. The universe was cloaked in darkness until the light exploded into existence billions of years ago. It is an eternal struggle to maintain the balance."

It didn't make me feel any less guilty for being enough of a distraction that Buck's attention was diverted away from his mortal son. Hope talked with me for some time, until I must have fallen asleep in the library, for I found myself waking up in the bed again, with Buck spooned behind me. The curtains were drawn so that we were in darkness, but it was obvious by the sunlight bleeding through the cracks in the curtains that it was the middle of the day. Carefully, I turned so that I faced him. His face looked so peaceful in the dimness of the room, but a small crease was still evident between his eyebrows, proof of the burden he carried, even in his sleep. A sudden urge to kiss that crease in the hopes of smoothing it away overcame me and I pressed my lips onto it. When I pulled away a smile was on his lips.

"A valiant attempt," he murmured. "Daere tried many times to remove that in the same manner. She called it my worry mark."

"I'm sorry I woke you. I feel so helpless. Thought a kiss would help."

"It does, more than you know." His eyes opened, tired but still bright, searching my face for a moment. "It doesn't seem fair that our marriage will be preceded by the murder of my son, but the Dark Overlord planned it that way. He uses terror and grief as a weapon, not realizing that for some people it is a crucible that makes them stronger."

"His family?"

"Will be taken care of," said Buck. "They will want for nothing, except the presence of their husband, father and grandfather." He stroked my hair. "I felt him die, while you were gathering food. Then you called for help, and I knew they had done it to gain access to the sanctuary. Even for a dark fae, it was a heinous act, for mortal family members are supposed to be safe from harm, by an agreement made in the days of the first fae king. The Dark Overlord has made it clear he has no regard for any of the laws that govern our kind. It means war between us. Only my remaining sons and I will attend Richard's funeral in two days time, as Hope has committed to staying for your protection. Many light fae are being recalled here to protect you."

"I'm not worth it," I answered, not feeling like I was compared to those he had sworn to protect when he became fae king.

"Of course, you are. You are a part of the sacred tree. Fae from other domains, the cold places, the ocean, the mountains, even from the hot lands, are sending help, for you are a descendant of the oldest fae family, the one that civilized us and made us more than tiny beings of mischief."

He kissed me then and we laid in the dark for a little longer until several thoughts were sent to us, to get up and face the day. After showering together, we dressed and made our way to the dining area, where the big table had been replaced by several small tables, as the big one could only ever seat 13 guests, no less and no more. Buck's other sons, Arthur and John, were there. Almost perfect duplicates of their father, they were both kind to me and I sensed no blame for the death of their younger brother.

The time until the funeral passed quickly, with Buck kissing me goodbye in the morning, promising to return by nightfall. My day was spent learning more of the wedding ceremony and Solstice rituals, as well as committing my vows to memory. There were some sacred words to be said for the "vows" but apparently Buck had asked they be spoken in English for my sake, and the sacred tree had given its blessing. When he returned, I was already in bed, but he slipped under the covers with me, nuzzling into my neck then weeping into my shoulder once more as he mourned his son's death.

The following night I was relocated to another room, where I was treated to a beauty regimen that was definitely magic. After it was done, my hair was shiny, my skin dewy, and there were no signs of any pimples or other blemishes of any kind. My gown, designed to match Bucky's suit was white with gold trim, and fit perfectly, as I tried it on one last time. We were kept apart that night since we had to leave very early from our eastern time zone on the morning of the solstice. We had to be at the sacred tree, which apparently was somewhere in Ireland, four hours ahead in their time zone. It was where the first fae king was crowned, and we had to be there before sunrise, 4:56 am, local time. It was going to literally be a long day for us, on the longest day of the year. At least we would take a portal there, with Loki, Hope, and Sam accompanying me. Steve, Thor and Buck left before us. The rest of the council were already there.

When we arrived at the grove where the sacred tree was located, I was amazed to see all sorts of flowers growing everywhere. Foxglove, daisies, cosmos, and primroses were just a few that I recognized. Their scent was everywhere, but not so much that it felt overwhelming. There was a misty quality to the place, as if a fog wasn't quite dissipated completely. Everything seemed so tranquil and beautiful. A single path led to the altar from where I waited, out of sight. I would walk it alone, just as Buck would wait alone for me, with Thor, as the oldest fae there, acting as the officiant. Our music was the natural sounds of the forest, the birds, the breeze, and the rustle of leaves. My bouquet was made of wildflowers. With a kind smile my three travelling companions left me to take their place. Then a voice in my head, Thor's voice, told me to begin to approach the altar. As I came around the corner from where I had been hidden, I almost gasped at the scene.

The sacred tree, large, gnarled and ancient, with pink tinged flowers appearing on the branches, dominated the space. In front of it, a carved altar made of wood displayed images of both real and mythical creatures of the forest, including one called The Green Man, apparently a masculine symbol of the forest. Buck waited in front of the altar, wearing an incredible suit that was mostly ivory white. Embroidered with an intricate pattern of gold thread it was styled similar to a fine suit from the 1700s. He wore a collarless white shirt underneath that seemed to be made of silk, which made sense as it was a natural fibre. Its sleeves poked out from the cuffs of the suit. On his head, Buck wore a crown of holly, apparently for its relationship to eternity, and the change of the seasons. When I reached where Buck stood, he offered me his hand and helped me up the single step to stand in front of Thor.

"Greetings, friends," he stated. "We are here to witness the sacred joining of our fae king, Buck, born James Barnes, to the mortal woman, Sage, born Sage Hawthorne. Before the vows are stated are there any objections to the union of these two individuals?"

There was no objection and Thor instructed Buck to state the vows. He did so without hesitation. Then it was my turn.

"I, Sage, in the name of the spirit of the Creator that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, James, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself."

Thor asked for the rings, raising his hands to the sky. When he lowered them, the rings were there, both of them plain bands made of silver. He offered the smaller one to Buck, who placed it on my ring finger. Then he offered the larger one to me, to place on my husband's ring finger. Clasping our hands together he spoke in a language I had never heard before. He looked calmly at both of us before speaking.

"May the canopy of the forest shelter you; may you be protected by the hawthorn, the oak and the ash tree, and their shade grant you peace. Your bloodlines are now joined, now and forever. Even if you choose to part there will always be a bond between you, until you find each other again at the end of time. You may seal your bond with a kiss."

Just as Buck's lips touched mine a strong beam of the sun lit us up, making the gold thread in our clothes gleam. I felt a warmth fill me from all around, which apparently was the first moment of transformation as the sacred tree of my ancestor transferred some of its fae power into me. After receiving the well wishes of those who attended we were transported to another site, the base of a mountain. At the top of it was where the first consummation of our marriage would take place, with Buck flying both of us up there. Just before we took off a host of flower petals drifted down upon us, landing in our hair. With a smile I was lifted into Buck's arms, and we flew to where a small group of tall trees at the top of the mountain became visible. Built into the rock face beneath them was a wooden structure, open to the elements, containing a large bed. We landed on a terrace in front of the bed. The sun, although high, wasn't at its highest yet. I stood looking out over the great vista below us.

"This is incredible," I said. "Why aren't we on the tallest mountains?"

"It's not necessary," he replied. "It just has to be open to the sky when the sun is at its highest. We are somewhere in the Balkans by the look of things, and we have time to eat and drink. If you wish."

My ears had been warm since the sun first touched us in Ireland and I ran my fingertips over them. A pointed shape surprised me, making Buck smile.

"Your ears have changed. I must say, they suit you."

Inside the covered part of the structure was a small mirror and I took a look, seeing the change for myself. Accepting a glass of wine from Buck, we toasted our marriage then started to kiss, letting the inevitable joining of our bodies progress from there. By the time the sun was high overhead we were well into the first requirement of the Solstice ritual. It was freeing to make love out in the open like that, with only the sky and the sun as our witness. I felt a lightness in my body, as if I could do almost anything. There was some opportunity after our several couplings to relax as we touched and caressed, then I heard an apologetic voice in my head interrupting us that it was time to go. Obviously, Buck had heard the same voice since he rose from the covers and offered me his hand. Reluctantly, we dressed. While I was putting my dress on Buck alerted me to the presence of small butterfly type wings protruding from my back.

"These will be your true wings although they haven't finished forming yet," stated Buck, gently touching them with his fingertips. "You'll soon learn how to transform them into bird wings strong enough to lift yourself."

Covering me with his own great wings, he held me close as he formed a portal around us. We appeared on a beach, where the air was warm and humid, surrounded by palm trees. Greeted by the council, with cheek kisses and hugs, they seemed pleased at the physical changes to my body, proof of the ritual working. Then Buck offered me his hand and we walked along a wooden dock to where a boat waited. Steve and Sam were at the controls, both of them looking relaxed in the golden light of the sun which was now low in the sky.

"We'll get you within a comfortable flying distance, then return to the beach," said Steve. "At sunrise, we will be waiting for you at the rendezvous point on the boat."

We ate and drank on the ride until they slowed then stopped. We departed from them as Buck took me in his arms for a flight over the ocean. The moon was just peaking over the horizon, providing just enough light to illuminate the calm waters below us. It seemed that Buck knew exactly where to go as a small rocky island became visible in the distance. On it was a platform, with steps leading up to it from the water. A bed and several lit candle lanterns were the only furnishings there.

"You just happen to have this tiny island in the middle of the ocean waiting for us," I commented, a little sarcastically. Buck just grinned.

"The rocky part is real, the last remaining part of a long dead volcano that rose from the ocean in the South Pacific. The bed and lighting are magical. It was part of Steve's job to find this spot, using his contacts with the merpeople to locate it. It had to be isolated, as we draw magic from the ocean with the consummation. A spell will protect us in case a storm comes but as you can see it is a very calm and clear night. The merpeople will patrol below the surface and advise the council if there are any potential intruders. It's important that we're not interrupted." He looked at me with obvious desire. "For more than one reason."

Gracefully, he landed and released me from his arms. I almost wanted to laugh at how otherworldly and weird it all seemed. This tiny island in the middle of the ocean was set up just for us to have sex. As I looked out over the waters, I could hear mournful sounds coming from it. Buck came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me as he rested his chin on mine.

"Is that whale song?" I asked.

"Uh huh." He listened for a moment. "They're giving us their blessing. Come to bed, my beloved."

In the light of the lanterns that were near the bed, he undid the fastenings of my dress, kissing my neck and shoulders as it fell from my body and draped itself over a chair that appeared, my magic asserting itself, according to Buck. His own individual pieces of clothing seemed to unfasten themselves, although I helped remove them. Like my dress they moved of their own accord, finding a place to be. The lights of the lanterns slowly grew dim so that our bodies were lit only by the full moon, low on the horizon, with just a sliver of sky separating it from that viewpoint. Whether it was an optical illusion or was just my imagination, it seemed to be the largest I had ever seen the moon appear. Despite being in the middle of the ocean I felt as warmed by the moon's glow as I ever did by the sun's rays. As we kissed it felt like something extraordinary surrounded us.

"It's beginning," said Buck, stepping back a little as he held my hands.

There was a silvery glow to my skin that seemed to flow from the reflection of the moon in the ocean straight towards me, enveloping me in something enchanted. All of my senses seemed to come alive as we explored each other's bodies like it was the very first time. Every kiss to my skin sent tendrils of pleasure radiating from the contact point. Every caress of my breasts increased my need for Buck to join with me in any way possible. Every roll of his hips as he thrust into me sent me into such a state of joy that I wanted to cry out to the heavens. I imagined this must be like the best psychedelic trip of all time, except I was fully in charge of my faculties, fully aware of where I was and who I was with. Our minds and bodies were joined in such a way that I realized this was the love I had longed for my whole life. This fae man, entwined with me, was my life, as I was his; our connection was physical, emotional, and spiritual all at the same time. After the attainment of our shared climax we laid in each other's arms, spent but not exhausted.

"Is this how it feels to be connected to life?" I asked, as I became aware of all the sea life around us, even the sea anemones and corals that clung to life on the sides of the rocky promontory that extended down to the bottom of the ocean where we were. I could hear and understand the song of the whales that were bolstered by the calls of the merpeople under the gentle swells. "Do you hear and feel this all of the time?"

"Yes," he replied. "It was overwhelming at first but when Daere chose to undergo the process it was so much better to share it with my mate. Just as it's better with you, Sage. You were always meant for this; to be at my side, to be part of the life of this earth."

Gently, Buck wiped tears from my cheek, as I wept with awareness of all that was good and all that threatened the natural world. It was such a responsibility that he had been solely burdened with since Daere died. How he managed to function without a mate to share this commitment with for so long was beyond my comprehension. All I knew for certain was that I was part of it now, freely choosing to do this with my king, my mate, and my love.

Slowly, the moon began its journey back below the horizon, and we were left in darkness until a glow appeared on the surface of the ocean. All sorts of blue, green and white lights appeared at the top of the waters then slowly drifted back down to where they originated. I sat on the bed, entranced by the spectacle, having never seen anything like it before.

"Bioluminescent creatures," said Buck. "They live deep where there is no light but create their own. They come to pay their respects." He stroked my back; his warmth feeling so good on my skin. "We can catch some sleep now until just before sunrise."

His suggestion for sleep was a good one as we had been going for over 24 hours, in several different time zones. Within moments I was gone, calmed into sleep by what I realized was a lullaby being sung by the merpeople. Its haunting beauty was both hypnotic and soothing, sending me into a wonderful dream filled with light and love.

"Sage." The voice was barely audible, like the gentle buzz of a bee in the garden. It was a voice I knew but I strained to hear it. "Sage, listen. There is a way that you can save him. If you give it all up and give him up for how ever long it takes for him to heal, he can live. My beautiful girl. I miss you so much."

I opened my eyes, turning to look at Buck in the pre-dawn light, his eyes closed and his face at peace after all the turmoil of the past few days. That vision I had of him, pale while the light of life left his eyes, was there again at the edge of my consciousness but so were the words that woke me. What did it all mean?

It didn't take long to find the boat waiting for us after we lifted off from the island. Sam and Steve were on it again and offered us food and drink to restore our energies after the long day and night we experienced. It seemed like simple fare, cheeses, fruit, honey and bread but it tasted wonderful, almost as if I could sense all the love and care that went into its preparation. Soon, the boat was pulling up to the dock and we were greeted with warm words and wishes. We had one more stop to make, a return to the sacred tree in Ireland to present ourselves as bonded mates. That encircling of the globe would complete the ritual. As the rest of the council activated their own portals to return there, Sam and Steve secured the boat as Thor waited. Then we returned to Ireland together, landing in a beam of lightning.

It was strange. Although the council had left before us, they were nowhere to be seen in the glade where the sacred tree was. The three fae princes produced their swords as did Buck. Being new to all of this, I wasn't sure what to do but they placed themselves around me and we began to advance towards the tree. We found Hope first, as Buck cried out and kneeled beside her, sprawled amongst some tall sunflowers, although no injury was visually evident.

"She's alive," he said, laying his hands on his daughter. "Hope, wake up."

A moan answered him and then her eyes fluttered open. "Trap," she whispered, then she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"You should go," said Thor. "There is a feeling of darkness here." He seemed to be searching for his brother telepathically but there was no answer. "Buck, take your bride."

"No, we must finish the ritual to complete the process," he insisted. "She won't be safe otherwise."

Taking my hand in his free hand we approached the sacred tree. With Thor, Steve and Sam covering our backs we kneeled in front of it and Buck recited something in what I assumed was Latin. Just before he finished it, a shadow in the shape of a man materialized out of the air, thrusting a black sword into Buck's chest. It happened so fast that he had no chance to react, other than to push me back, away from danger. The shadow man lifted him up overhead, still impaled on the sword and threw him away from the tree. Instinctively, I thought of my hands as weapons, generating a blue energy from them that caught the shadow man in the chest. He began to thrash, then the shadows fell away to reveal the lawyer of HYDRA Mining, Alexander Pierce.

"NO!"

His face was locked in a grimace as he reached for me, but I sent another pulse towards him, then found my efforts supported as Thor raised his hammer then struck Pierce in the head, separating it from his neck. A cloud of dark energy erupted from the headless body then twisted painfully as my pulse of blue, and Thor's lightning burned through it, until it was gone. I was suddenly exhausted then remembered Buck and scrambled to where he was. Sam and Steve were trying to stem his blood loss but as I hovered over him, I realized this was my vision that had been prickling at the edge of my consciousness. His skin was already pale and the blue light in his eyes was fading. I placed my hands on his cheeks and for a moment they pulsed blue then faded as I had used all of my power destroying Pierce.

"No," I cried. "Don't die. Don't leave me."

"Beloved," gasped Buck. "Amica mea. It's okay. If he's dead, then you are safe. My beloved Sage."

My tears fell on his face as I begged him to stay with me. I looked at the others who stood around, helpless in their grief. Then I remembered the words that were whispered to me.

"I don't want this power, not if I don't have you. Take it, take it all." I raised my eyes to the sky. "Please, save him. I'll give him up, give up all of my magic if you just let him live."

"Sage, if you do this, he can no longer be king." Thor was kneeling beside me. "He can only live as a mortal now as all of his own magic will be needed to heal his wound. Even then there is no guarantee as he was pierced with a dark fae blade."

"I don't care," I cried. "Please, don't let him die. Don't let all that he was be lost."

"No, beloved." Buck's voice was barely a whisper. "Don't do this. You were meant to be queen."

"Not without you." I was certain of this. "Please."

My tears were unstoppable as I laid my head on his shoulder. I could hear the voices of the others then everything went black. When my eyes opened, I was in a dark room. Sitting up, I saw that it was the same room I first stayed in when Buck brought me to the stronghold. It was dark and the almost full moon shone through the window, although it was low in the sky. Before I could leave, someone knocked on the door, then entered and stepped into the moonlight.

"Hope," I said. "Your father ...."

"He will live," she answered. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Your magic is depleted and can never be restored. Neither will you ever have a child with magic."

"I want to see him."

"It's not possible," she answered. "The sacred tree used both your magic and his to treat the injury but there was a price to be paid. He is mortal now, and he has lost his memory. I had enough time to give him something to ground him when he wakes up, but he won't remember who he is or what he was. He is out of our hands now. The sacred tree instructed that he be taken to a mortal place and left there to begin his new life. I don't know where he is. He is unseen to me."

"But what about us?" I asked.

"You offered to give him up and the sacred tree is fae. Your offer was accepted as a fair trade for saving him. If your love is true, you may find each other again, but there are no guarantees. I'm sorry."

Her words hit me like a wave of ice water. He would live but he was lost to me, possibly forever. As I began to cry, Hope held me, stroking my hair and back, then sat with me for the rest of the night as we talked of many things. When the first signs of dawn became visible, she left me to get dressed then escorted me to a terrace where the council waited. All of them who had gone to the sacred tree ahead of us looked ill, as if they were recovering from a terrible illness. Pierce had apparently poisoned them as they appeared there, wanting to isolate Buck and me to attack us without warning. No one suspected that he was the Dark Overlord, since his camouflage as a mortal lawyer had been so successfully portrayed. He apparently didn't believe my strength would be of consequence in standing up to his, expecting to overwhelm me completely and take my powers for his. My counterattack weakened him enough for Thor to slay him. At least his influence would be gone, until the next dark fae became powerful enough to become the Dark Overlord.

After saying goodbye to the council, Steve offered to return me to my apartment, encircling me with his wings and activating a portal. We appeared on the street in front of my building, just before the dawn and he looked around to make sure our arrival wasn't witnessed.

"Will I see you back in the courtroom?" I asked.

"No, Sam and I will be leaving Washington and returning to the stronghold," he replied, kindly. "The sacred tree is set to choose the next candidates for fae ruler and it's always a possibility we may be chosen. Gaia Life will still exist, but I suspect it will return to a grassroots level, educating people to respect the environment. We are recommending that we undertake a greater effort to find and support the descendants of Lilith and the Hawthorn, encouraging them to accept and develop their powers. Your powers were truly what made the difference in defeating the Dark Overlord." Suddenly, he brushed a tear away from my cheek. "He loved you very much. Believe that it will bring you back together, someday."

With a grim smile, I nodded, then stepped back and watched as his wings extended and he lifted up into the air, watching him until I couldn't see him anymore. On the elevator up to my floor, I thought of all that happened to me over the last few months. My whole life had been uprooted, starting with the death of my father, and ending with the loss of my husband. As I checked my work emails, I realized I had changed too much to return to that job. I didn't know what I was going to do but it wasn't going to be in the cynical atmosphere of the nation's capital.

One Year Later

The sunburnt face and grizzled chin of the farmer I was representing in front of the county board, seemed satisfied when the board agreed that the fracking company, which had set up next to the property line of his farm, had damaged the aquifer enough to affect the quality of his well water. They were ordered to cease and desist all operations, to pay him damages for what they had done, and to pay for the installation of a water tank, as well as the supply of fresh water until such time as his well recovered, based on an independent assessment. It was as good a victory as any I had achieved when I was a high paid lawyer in Washington. For this representation, the best I could expect to be paid was about $5000 but I was also given a permanent invitation to dinner with the farmer and his family, plus a side of beef whenever I needed it. As he, his wife, and kids thanked me while I placed my files in my briefcase I happened to look up and see a familiar face. The woman who wore it sat in one of the stacking chairs that were available for the public to witness the proceedings.

Maria smiled at me as I approached. "I wasn't expecting to see you, not here out in the country."

"Officially, I'm not here," she said. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

I nodded, then we headed out of the county building to where my truck was, and I deposited my case in the front seat. There was a coffee shop across the way, and we walked across the quiet small-town street, waiting on a truck to pass in front of us before completing the journey. A wave to the waitress from me brought two cups and a pot of coffee.

"Lunch?" asked the waitress, Norma.

I looked at Maria and she shook her head. "No, not today, thanks."

"Should you even be here?" I asked. "I mean, Gaia Life pulled out of Washington pretty quickly, after ...." I left the final part unsaid as it was still painful for me.

"Officially, no, but Hope asked me to come," she replied, then she took a brochure out of her purse. It was for a county-run campground in the next state over, extolling the virtues of a pristine environment, without electricity, wifi, or any of the interruptions of modern society. "She thinks it might be a good idea for you to go camping next weekend. A reservation has already been made and paid for."

I looked at Maria with surprise, but she didn't enlighten me, taking that moment to sip her coffee. So, I asked.

"Why?"

"Just go," she said. "Our new rulers want you to be happy and feel that you may find the visit memorable."

"Rulers? A king and a queen?"

She shrugged, making me understand that I wasn't really permitted to know anymore. Then she smiled kindly again.

"We have looked out for you, you know. You seem happier here than you were in Washington."

"It's quieter and the work is the same, but the rewards are more obvious and satisfying, I guess. I'm still considering my options. How is everyone?"

"Still adjusting but we're alright." She looked at my neck and my left hand. "You still wear them."

"I'm still his wife and I still feel him. I'll never forget him."

"I'm glad." She looked at her watch. "Well, my ride should be here soon. It was good to see you, Sage. Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome," I said, internally wondering about the real purpose for the brief visit.

We walked out to the street and a vehicle pulled up in front, with a bald, dark-skinned man driving. He nodded at me, then Maria hugged me, and got inside, receiving a kiss from the man. With a wave, they were gone, as they turned the first corner. With the brochure in my hand, I got in my truck and headed home to the small house I lived in on the edge of town. Opening my laptop, I looked at the website for the campground, seeing only pictures of a small lake, with rustic campsites. Inside the brochure was a folded piece of paper with my reservation and the date, the next full moon. Since I was usually alone anyways, it seemed a good idea.

That weekend I loaded up my pride and joy, a small camper vehicle, big enough for two, or in this case me and my girlfriend's dog, Arlo, who I often brought along to keep me company when I went camping. We headed out in the rain, just after breakfast for the 6-hour drive to the campground. When I did arrive there, the rain was gone, the sun was out and the small campground, with no services, was empty. I found the one reserved for me, that looked out over the small lake but still had the shelter of the trees for shade. It was perfect. After setting up the portable solar panels for power I set up my small picnic table with a camp stove and pulled out my chair, a book, and began to enjoy the solitude, while Arlo rested in the sun before moving to the shade of the camper. The scent of the trees hung heavy in the air, lulling both me and Arlo to sleep. When we awoke the sun was low and I brought out the lantern. Open campfires were prohibited so the light of the lantern would have to suffice. As I came out of the van I saw a figure, standing with his back to me, a short distance away, looking out over the small lake.

He seemed familiar to me, in his heavy flannel shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. When he turned his head to the side, my heart jumped, for his profile was just as beautiful as I remembered. At that moment he became aware I was watching and turned around to face me. Arlo looked at him with ears perked up but didn't seem alarmed at the sudden presence of the man.

"You picked a nice spot," he said. "You respect the space, by keeping your vehicle on the gravel and not starting a campfire. Others who have had this spot to themselves have often ignored the no open campfire sign."

"It is fire season," I replied, keeping my voice steady, as it was obvious he didn't recognize me. "I don't need it. Once the moon comes up and reflects off the water it will be so beautiful and peaceful out here. It's what I wanted more than anything."

He nodded then approached where I sat. He kneeled down and gestured to Arlo, who approached him readily, wagging his tail. Scratching Arlo behind the ears, then his neck made the dog fall onto his side offering his belly. The man chuckled.

"How long have you had him?" he asked.

"He belongs to a friend," I answered. "He's my camping buddy. Living in town can be stressful for a dog so this is his vacation time as well."

Nodding his head sympathetically he looked up at me. "I'm James," he said.

"Sage," I replied. "Are you a camper here?"

"No, I live nearby but I check up on the place for the county and remind people not to have open campfires." He smiled at Arlo, who was pawing him for more belly rubs. "Have we ever met?"

"I was thinking the same thing," I answered. "Except I've never been here before."

"Maybe it's from before I was injured. I almost died and lost most of my memories. Sometimes, I get a flash of them, but it doesn't last." He stood up. "I should get going."

I didn't want him to go. "James, would you like to join me for some hot chocolate? I have another chair in the camper. I wouldn't mind the company."

His smile was soft, as he looked out over the water for a moment then back at me. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

I brought the chair out for him then filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner inside the camper, opening a couple of packets of hot chocolate into a couple of mugs. Inside my camper I also had a bag of mini marshmallows, and I brought them, along with some cookies, placing them on the small picnic table. Before the water boiled, I shut the stove down and poured some water in the mugs, stirring the powder to remove the lumps. Then I poured the rest of the water in, stirring to mix it together smoothly. James watched me as I stepped out of the camper, then took the mug from my hand.

"Thank you," he said, then sipped it and sat back in the chair. He leaned towards the table and took some mini marshmallows, adding them to his drink. "That's better."

He took a couple of cookies and dunked one in the hot chocolate. Quietly, we sipped our drink, watching as the full moon came up over the water. It looked exactly like it did the night of the Solstice ritual on the tiny island in the middle of the ocean. I suddenly sobbed and he looked at me, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Just remembering my wedding night," I replied, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It was on a full moon like this. I lost my husband the next morning. He was murdered in front of me."

"I'm sorry. That must have been devastating." He looked over at the moon. "It seems familiar to me as well but it's a memory that just ...."

He shook his head, frustrated.

"I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again." My voice was a whisper.

"What did you say?" he asked, putting the mug down. I repeated it. "I know those words. What was your husband's name?"

"Buck was what everyone called him, but he was born James Barnes," I said, looking directly at him.

"Sage ... is your last name Hawthorne?"

"It was, but I kept my husband's name. It's me, Buck. Don't you remember me?"

"How was your husband killed?"

"A sword through the heart. He actually survived, but he lost all of his memories of me, and I wasn't permitted to stay with him, because he didn't know me, at all."

"Was your wedding night on an island in the ocean?" I nodded. He touched his chest and pulled up his shirt, showing a great scar in the middle of his chest. "They said I was impaled by a weapon, that I almost bled out and I was lucky to survive. It wasn't luck, was it?"

"No, it was magic, but it came at a cost. You lost all of your magic and I gave up all of mine to save you, plus I had to leave you. They said if our love was true, we would find each other again. Now, here you are, in front of me. Have you found me, Buck? Please say you've found me again."

"Amica mea," he murmured, then he looked at me again, his eyes dark, as his memories returned. "Beloved?"

"Yes!"

The tears were streaming down my face, and I wanted to go to him, but my feet wouldn't move. He stood up and came to me, turning me so that my face was fully lit by the lantern. Gently, he touched my cheek with the back of his fingers.

"You cried over me," he said. "Hot tears were falling onto my cheeks, as I called you my beloved, over and over again. You said you would give it all up to save me, that you never wanted it, not if I wasn't with you. There were others there, but I couldn't hear them. I only remember your face and your pendant, then it went black. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. The police said I was found in a park with a stabbing chest wound that just missed my heart by a fraction of an inch. They never found who did it or who phoned for an ambulance. I only knew my name because of my identification. It said I lived near here, alone, running my own furniture making business. I knew how to make the furniture, but I didn't remember actually doing it. Who was I?"

I smiled. "You were special, and I will tell you everything but right now I just want to do one thing, if you'll let me."

He smiled back then he placed one hand in my hair and one around my waist. Gently, he kissed me, and I felt the familiar feeling of all of his kisses. Our kiss deepened and he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I could detect a touch of his scent, the rich scent of the forest after a rainfall. Another scent, that of cut wood was more prominent, probably from the work he did making furniture. It was the feel of his arms around me that confirmed I had him back. Suddenly, I was aware of the sound of wings lifting a body into flight, not just one set but several and I looked around to see them, the fae, who had found my love and brought us back together again, but they were already gone.

Then I saw it on his ring finger, the silver wedding band. He noticed where I was looking and took my left hand in his, rubbing my wedding band with his thumb.

"I didn't know if I was married or widowed, but I kept it on, hoping it would help me remember," he said. Then he gazed at me again. "How did you find me?"

"The fae elements," I replied. "Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, and the fifth one, Love. I think they looked for you and made it possible for us to find each other again."

"My beloved Sage. It's coming back to me. You really did give it all up for me?"

I nodded. "We're both mortals now, joined until we move on to the next life."

"Then I'm happy," he said. "You're all that I want."

We kissed again, in the light of the full moon that covered the water of that small lake in its reflected glow. Then we made love in the small bed of the camper, wrapping our arms and legs around each other as we rekindled the passion of our earlier life. Finally, we slept in each other's arms, while Arlo curled up on the floor. It was quiet and intimate, and over too soon until I moved in with Buck, at the cabin he lived in outside a small town in rural Pennsylvania. That weekend set the stage for years to come as we took our increasingly growing family camping in larger vehicles but always beside a remote lake during the full moon to experience its magic. Occasionally, we received visits from certain individuals who never aged but always seemed happy for us and gleefully played with our children and grandchildren. They grew up believing in the magic of mythical creatures and sacred places and knowing of the necessity for love and friendship in a world that always seemed at odds.

As for us, personally ... as we grew older, seeming to race towards the inevitable end of our time together, we knew it had all been worth it. Buck found peace and contentment with me, his last mate, and I found happiness with the love of my life. When our time came, we faced it together, and jumped into the unknown, secure in our belief that our love would always bind us together, forever. Although it was thought by the fae council that I represented the element of truth, Buck and I believed that I was also love, truly the most intangible element, as it kept the bond between us alive while we were apart.

Part 7>>

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[goddesspharo]

au facts ask game: top gun, academia au

[ask me AU fun facts!]

There was a show on Netflix a few years ago called The Chair with Sandra Oh as the new English department chair of a New England university that I really enjoyed (so of course it got cancelled after a season). I imagine it would be the goofier version of that. "I feel like someone handed me a ticking time bomb because they wanted to make a sure a woman was holding it when it explodes" is A Mood -- so basically department chair Natasha Trace who is long suffering despite JUST getting the promotion and now spends her days trying not to stab herself or someone else with a letter opener.

Natasha is in a semi-committed relationship with Bradley Bradshaw, who coaches the D2 basketball team. It's nice and easy. They complement each other because he is never stressed about work whereas she is constantly on the edge about which fire to prioritize putting out. Plus, he makes a fantastic beef bourguignon, keeps the apartment tidy, and takes in her dry cleaning on Saturday mornings when he goes to the farmers market to buy scones. Callie is fond of pointing out that Natasha is describing Mrs. Doubtfire and the fact that Bradley would make a great maid is NOT reason enough to keep dating a dude who doesn't challenge her.

Hot For Professor Jake Seresin. He is GOING THROUGH IT which makes him hotter (tormented by that promotion that should have been his! he's the one with the grants!) and is hitting every rung on the way to rock bottom.

Do Natasha and Jake get super drunk at the annual Christmas party and make out in one of the five libraries in Provost Simpson's mansion? OBVIOUSLY. Fortunately, their animosity was barely veiled before so no one notices when they are even more snippy with each other afterwards.

Bob is very hush-hush about the research he's doing with that NIH grant. "Big things, big things," he tells Natasha during one of the rare times when he leaves the lab to buy Cheetos and Red Bull from the cafeteria. She doesn't press him on it because she knows Bob wouldn't let her down, but then he keeps avoiding ignoring her e-mails a month later for an update until she finally goes down to the lab and realizes that he has gone rogue and is using the R25 money to bring back dinosaurs. Natasha loses her mind because she can't very well tell Dean Mitchell at the quarterly university meeting that life, uh, finds a way.

[project-do-over]

Violet_M00n is available

Violet_M00n: Heyyy sorry for the delay! Got caught up with work stuff...

Bookwyrm1982: literally no time has passed.

Violet_M00n: Right. Right. Habit, I guess.

Violet_M00n: Anyway, what else did you want to know about the future?

Bookwyrm1982: Well you said you had AI, right?

Violet_M00n: Well... Yes and no. We have programs people *call* "AI", but they're really just advanced machine learning. They can't actually think or anything, but they can put together a surprisingly human sounding sentence, and draw things that could at first be mistaken for art.

Violet_M00n: But of course it's awful. The results are full of factual errors or have way, way too many fingers, companies are trying to use it to replace creatives, and it burns a ton of energy doing essential nothing of value.

Violet_M00n: So could you go on ChatGPT and talk to a convincing facsimile of a human but underneath it's just a more advanced version of Dr. SBAITSO.

Bookwyrm1982: that's a shame. But then again at least you don't have to worry about them taking over the world, right?

Violet_M00n: Luna, at this point I'd welcome our robot overlords. Better than the fucks we have running things these days.

Bookwyrm1982: Are things that bad?

Violet_M00n: *sighs* no, I suppose not. I still have a job, a family, I can exist in public without fearing persecution, and I'm mostly free to do as I please.

Violet_M00n: But trust me when I say the people who very much want to take that away have much more power than feels comfortable.

Bookwyrm1982: that sounds scary though.

Violet_M00n: More enraging than scary, really. Just so many people who can't or don't want to see things from anyone's point of view from their own.

Violet_M00n: Well, that, and capitalism.

Bookwyrm1982: I thought capitalism was good though?

Violet_M00n: *sigh* we have so much to learn.

Violet_M00n: Honestly though, and you should be able to find these online if not in the library, but read some Marx.

Violet_M00n: It may not resonate a lot yet, but it will.

Bookwyrm1982: I always thought that Communism was a good idea in theory but it needed a global revolution to actually work.

Violet_M00n: You may be on to something there. And someday, hopefully in our lifetime, we may get there. But it's a long, long road. Especially here in America, where it's been used as a boogeyman for like 80 years now.

Violet_M00n: (55 for you)

Bookwyrm1982: Wow, that's.... I'm not sure I want to grow up now.

Violet_M00n: Well maybe your timeline will invent actual time travel and you can keep that wish. Luna knows I wish I could.

Bookwyrm1982: so

Bookwyrm1982: um

Bookwyrm1982: Can we talk about something more fun? Like, what's something good in your time?

Violet_M00n: Well Magic the Gathering is still pretty good.

Bookwyrm1982: We're still playing? I kinda lost interest and stopped following it a year or two ago.

Violet_M00n: Oh yeah, we're still playing, and the game is... Well, it's way different from your time but also at its heart the same.

Violet_M00n: Like it's still Magic but also there's D&D and cowboys and Gandalf, for some reason. It's cool but it's also kinda scary how much they're pumping out.

Bookwyrm1982: Oh that sounds cool! Is it just D&D and LOTR?

Violet_M00n: They've done a ton of crossovers, they call them "Universes Beyond". They've done, let's see...

Violet_M00n: Dr. Who, Warhammer, Assassin's Creed, Final Fantasy, they're doing Marvel soon, Transformers (those are Hasbro though so they were among the first), The Walking Dead, Fortnite, Stranger Things (you... Don't know about those yet, don't worry), um, lots more stuff too that I'm forgetting, but those are mostly in like five or ten card bundles.

Violet_M00n: Unlike LotR which was a full set, with boosters and everything. And the best selling set of Magic in all time, unless Bloomburrow has passed that already.

Bookwyrm1982: Really cool! You'll have to send me some pictures sometime!

Violet_M00n: I'll be sure to downscale them appropriately this time!

Bookwyrm1982: What else do we like? Is Star Trek still running?

Violet_M00n: It had a long break there where it seemed we weren't going to get any more Star Trek.

Violet_M00n: But then JJ Abrams (a director/producer of some renown) made a Star Trek movie that was meh, but good enough to get people interest in the franchise again.

Violet_M00n: Soon after that Paramount spun up Star Trek Discovery, which had a rocky start but Grew The Beard soon enough for them to greenlight Star Trek Picard. Then Lower Decks, Strange New Worlds, Academy, and probably one or two others I'm forgetting (not to forget Short Treks and Very Short Treks).

Violet_M00n: Prodigy! I forgot Prodigy!

Bookwyrm1982: The online service?

Violet_M00n: No, Star Trek Prodigy. It's a CG animated series for kids made by Nickelodeon.

Bookwyrm1982: You're making that up.

Violet_M00n: I swear, it's true. Lower Decks is animated too, but 2D, and it's for adults and probably the best thing Star Trek has ever created. It's hilarious!

Violet_M00n: SNW follows Captain Pike on the 1701

Bookwyrm1982: And Discovery?

Violet_M00n: Complicated! It starts out pre-TOS but... Spoilers! And Picard is... Also here!

Bookwyrm1982: Is that about young Picard or something?

Violet_M00n: Old Picard, but close.

Bookwyrm1982: Hey my mom... our mom... just told me to get off the computer so

Bookwyrm1982: ttys!

Violet_M00n: See you in literally no time at all!

Bookwyrm1982 is away

[nintendroid]

I finally (sort of) beat Batman Forever for Sega Genesis thanks to this mod!

The first bad video game I can remember owning is Batman Forever. Thirteen years ago on this very blog I aired my frustrations with it and when anyone asks me what my least favorite games are, Batman Forever is always in the conversation.

I love the movie and I'm glad that thanks to the "Schumacher Cut" hype its finally getting it's roses. I have great memories of it as the first Batman movie I saw in theaters, and equally great memories of that following Christmas and getting some of the toys that I loved as much as the movie. While I love Batman '89 and Batman Returns, Batman Forever was MY Batman.

The combination of the cyberpunk setting, amazing soundtrack, Jim Carrey as The Riddler, the McDonalds French-made glasses that remained a staple in my household for years, and a competent on-screen Robin, my memories of Batman Forever as a film and franchise entry got everything right! The only blemish on an otherwise blockbuster experience was the game.

I've tried to play it over the years and never can stick it out. It has a good soundtrack, good graphics and from a distance looks like it could be a good game. What makes it dreadful to play is the unforgiving difficulty, no continues, laggy Mortal Kombat controls that don't belong nowhere near a platformer, timed levels where the terribleness of the controls are made super-apparent and I cant stress enough THE CONTROLS. The wacky button combinations for basic functions are mind-boggling and just plain poor. Batman Forever: The Video Game is the black sheep of the Batman Forever marketing blitz.

Fast forward to 2023. Thanks to the efforts of video game preservation, advance technology and people fed up with the modern state of gaming, retro gaming truly belongs to the players. Apart of that freedom of "ownership" is to right the sins of the past and create the experiences that we wanted as kids but didn't get for one reason or another.

Enter video game modder BillyTime! Games.

William Timington (his proper name) modded the Sega Genesis port of Batman Forever and gave us "Batman Eternity". A version of Batman Forever that scraps the stupid platforming elements and puzzles and gives us what we truly wanted: A BRAWLER.

Batman Eternity is a gameplay overhaul of Batman forever. Its main goal is to remove all platform and puzzle elements from the game and focuses strictly on combat.

Changes Made: -------------------- Both Versions: *Level 3 and 5 have been removed entirely *Several layout changed have been made across all levels *Batman and Robin start with 10 lives in Singleplayer, Co-op and competitive modes. *Batman and Robin have all moves available and can be used at any time. *The Riddler is unlocked in training mode by default. Original Difficulty: -------------------- No health values have been modified and remain the same as the original game. Scaling Difficulty: -------------------- All health values have been changed for all enemies in this version to be universal. After each level or at a Boss portion of each level, the health cap for enemies is gradually raised. Enemy health caps at Level 7.

These changes make for a much more basic and enjoyable experience. It's still not a perfect experience by any stretch but it's so much better than the original. The simplicity makes you appreciate the atmosphere of the game, and the graphics, the music. The controls still aren't ideal but you'll spend so much time just clobbering enemies, you won't notice.

When I finally beat the Giga Riddler at the end of the game, I felt...complete. Like another insignificant, small book in my childhood library finally got the ending it deserved. Dramatic? Yes, but you need that exaggeration to keep things interesting.

If you want to check out the romhack for yourself, check it out here and while you're at it, check out BillyTime! Games Twitter and shoot him a thanks for his efforts.

Thanks William Timington. You belonged in that dev room way back in 1995.

[bibliophilecats]

Rules: List ten books that have stayed with you in some way, don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard - they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you.

Thank you @logarithmicpanda and @smalltownfae (it took a while, I blame the abyssmal desktop tumblr experience - I hate the post editor!! Not happy with the formatting now but I have given up)

Alanna the first Adventure by Tamora Pierce I remember when I got the book for my 11th birthday. And then it stayed on my shelf for quite a while (didn't like the cover). I nearly missed it! But luckily, some day I picked it up and then ran to the bookstore to get the other books in the series.

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell THE booklr book

Howl's Moving Castle by Dianna Wynne Jones Reminded me what great books are like

Die große Drachensuche von Cornelia Funke The first version of the story that was later rewritten as Drachenreiter (Dragon Rider). From a time when I still adored her books

Der Wunschpunsch von Michael Ende All of his children's books have been part of my childhood, so it was hard to pick just one. This is about evil people wanting to destroy the environment and brave animals defeating them (on New Year's Eve).

The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater I like all the books I read by her and all of them are still on my shelf - but Scorpio Races made a deep impression on me (I will probably never read it again, the violence against the horses was too much, that's why it stayed so prominent probably).

Die Känguru Chroniken von Marc-Uwe Kling (and all following books) So funny and made me aware of my political leanings in a way I wasn't previously.

Drei Männer im Schnee von Erich Kästner Obviously his children's books were part of my growing up (they are (were?) in Germany). A few years ago I started reading his adul novels. This one, while on the light side, still has some social commentary.

The Rest of us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness One of the few books from a subscription box I kept, read it multiple times. The talk between the protagonist and his psychatrist still makes me tear up.

Ferien auf Saltkrokan von Astrid Lindgren Another childhood classic that I reread a lot during my university years. A better, seemingly easier world. Soul food.

I tag @lizziethereader @linebetween @the-forest-library @thelivebookproject

[pttucker]

Well that just happened.

I thought we were gonna go another 50 chapters before we got more existential stuff but I guess ORV has decided to pick up the pace. At least it wasn't absolutely terrifying this time around.

Well, not outwardly anyway. Dokja being immediately pulled back into reading and getting lulled into wanting to never leave the library is a little concerning. Though, on the other hand, it does make sense that the guy who's made TWSA his whole life for ten years, specifically reading it when he's going through rough times, and who's literally been living through an apocalypse the past year might want to just relax and spend the rest of his days resting in the library dedicated to the world he loves.

And it is a library. (Which may or may not be inside the Fourth Wall. Or perhaps just beyond it.)

We've pretty much gotten confirmation that there isn't just one TWSA and in fact there are alternate versions of the story, seemingly all happening at the same time at different paces. The fact that Dokja first picks up the 12th record of the third round when, at most, this should be the 2nd record if I'm understanding things correctly--the first being what Dokja read in TWSA and the second the story he's telling now. Even including the revisions that have been happening, that's not twelve. And then there's this too:

Some of the stories were already known and some weren't. "This information was forgotten…" "What? There was something like this?"

I'm interpreting this as potentially both stuff he's forgotten like it says but also stuff that never happened to him but to another Dokja.

Also, the records going up to at least the 1863rd round is a little concerning. Dokja's never mentioned a number THAT high when talking about his Joonghyuk.

Definitely thinking that Secretive Plotter & Joonghyuk's sponsor might be one or both of them from another version of the story that's somehow crossed over. Perhaps they crossed through the library as well but chose to return through a different book?

Secretive Plotter in particular being known to Devourer of Dreams and being called "the great plotter" and one of the oldest beings in this universe…Could he have been in the first version of TWSA? Also, Devourer of Dreams called Secretive Plotter "the one who fights against the Oldest Dream" while the wenny man back around chapter 255 or so called Joonghyuk "Puppet of the Oldest Dream." So Secretive Plotter and Joonghyuk's sponsor are enemies?? Or is Joonghyuk a "puppet" of someone else?

「 (I saved you once before. You must've already forgotten.) 」

Has it been Nirvana talking to Dokja all this time??? Was he the one who told him to turn off the Fourth Wall and spoke to him when he looked too long??

Also, Nirvana mentions that if they don't clean up properly he won't remember it. And also Dokja thinks earlier "Then I got a headache. The curled memories were breaking out like a eggshell cracking. This place that had just seemed unfamiliar now felt familiar." Is that what happened last time? He went to the library but lost his memory of it? Or has he been here even before just a few chapters ago? Could he have come from another world entirely and completely forgot, thinking that he was just a normal guy who happened to read this particular novel that became reality?

Nirvana really seemed like a mysterious sage. I felt strange. For the first time, a character learnt the secrets of this world. "How do you feel? Now you know that you are a character in a novel." Nirvana's expression changed at my provocation. 「 (A novel… is that what you really think?) 」

Hmmm, and on that topic, I don't know how to feel about this. I do know Dokja's attribute said Apostle rather than Reader. Maybe because the novel has become reality so it's not really "a novel" anymore? I mean, at this point, Dokja practically is a character and has been since the very moment this all started because he's no longer on the outside of the story. He is affecting things and things are affecting him.

「 (I like your story.) 」 I was embarrassed by the unexpected words. 「 (To be precise, I like the story you have changed. The sentences that feel your will, the context that contains things you don't say…)」 "…What are you saying now?" I stepped back in an awkward manner. I looked at his bastard and remembered his words before his death. 「(It isn't just me. All the beings here love your story.) 」 "Who else is in this place?"

Who else indeed. Was this where Secretive Plotter disappeared to for a while? I wonder what would have happened if Dokja's party attempted to use his modifier while he was inside…

Also, the fact that they're making a big deal of Dokja changing the story, just like with him getting revisions of TWSA based on his actions, it has to mean something. And Devourer of Dreams says "You are now someone who can't be controlled." Was he originally a character being controlled by an author and woke up one day?

idk I don't really have too many new theories besides starting to wonder if Dokja has always been a character (rather than me thinking he was TWSA's author who forgot). Just kind of jotting down some new clues. I'll probably save my future theory posts for when something actually proves or disproves one of them or if I think up something else.

I can't believe that it feels like we're about to reach some big revelation soon, the kind that you'd normally find at the end of the novel, and we're not even halfway through the story.

[cloudydreams21]

No Turning Back|Part 2Chapter 2

Something Expectedly Unexpected

Check out my Archive of Our Own and Wattpad under the same username cloudydreams21 ☁️

V. Light smut in this chapter

Chapter Songs: Dark Red- Steve Lacy and Same Room-JP Same

Goddamn, the universe had a sense of humour.

Rick stared at her blankly for a second, barely being able to work through the swarm of thoughts and questions congesting his brain. His inner monologue was giving him whiplash. He was kicking himself for not taking the time to learn more about this dimension before settling himself in.

How does Beth even know her? Why is she here? Oh fuck, did she know the previous Rick who lived here- the Rick I replaced, the Rick I killed? Wow, she really is beautiful. Crap, what the fuck am I even meant to say right now? Right, fuck this, I’m not doing this, I’m not having this shit in my life. I’m not one of those Ricks who-. But fuck me, those Citadel Ricks were right; she is a knockout. Why did I have to choose one of these dimensions. Okay, act natural, she doesn’t need to know you’re a fucking idiot Rick.

Rick couldn’t help but find something special about this version of her-my version? No, not my version, Jesus Rick you just met the girl. How is it that she seemed to radiate warmth and comfort even in the few seconds he had been in her presence. He took as many moments as he could to take her in without coming across like a tongue-tied fool. She wore a long skirt which rested just below her knees, and a simple black top cropping at her ribs. She wore golden jewellery on her fingers and long layered necklaces. She was truly a ray of sunshine. Shit, she was goddamn angelic.

Beth managed to break into his thoughts, clearly not noting the absurd battle raging just inside his head.

“Daaaad, this is my best friend, she lives over the road but we met in College.” She cheerily gestured to her friend before frowning at Rick’s blank expression. “Oh yeah! Right, of course you wouldn’t know.” She feigned lightheartedness but he registered the frustration behind her cheery tone. “Dad, after I had Morty... Jerry was a stay-at-home dad for a while. I went to the local College to become a Veterinary Surgeon. You know my job, horsesurgeon…” She explained, becoming increasingly bad at hiding her frustration with her dad’s blank stare. “Well, anyway, we met in the library-” Beth gave her a meaningful smile and her friend let out a soft chuckle, “-and we just hit it off! I hadn’t even known her grandma lived on this street, just over the road! She moved in to her house a few years ago when she left it to her and she's been a big part of this family ever since! Well, she is family.” She finished giving her friend the brightest of smiles.

She got up from the sofa now, pulling down the skirt as it hitched up on her thighs before extending a hand towards Rick offering him her name. “Beth gave me call a couple of months ago to let me know you had moved in! Sorry I hadn’t been able to introduce myself sooner, I was away for work…but you’ll probably be seeing a lot of me now that I’m back. I can't wait to get to know Beth's dad. Hope that’s not a problem!” She finished with a soft laugh that tickled all of Rick’s senses.

He observed her face and noticed her septum and nose piercings... Holy shit, seriously. It was like she was trying to be as attractive as possible. Rick snapped out of his reverie again and finally managed to unfreeze himself putting on his usual disinterested face. He reached into his lab-coat for his flask, looked at her extended hand once pointedly, before ignoring it and taking a sip. He finally steeled himself, preparing to talk and keep his voice level although his senses were extremely heightened to the point where he felt jittery.

“R-right…” he spoke, forcing impatience to paint his tone as he maintained boorish eye contact with her.

She dropped her hand back down and Rick noted some confusion, and perhaps even some disappointment in her eyes. He felt like an asshole and began regretting his crassness. But this sense of vulnerability he was feeling was not something he was comfortable with, he wasn't sure how best to proceed.

She sat back down, took a deep breath, and rubbed her hands up and down her thighs briefly to sooth herself. Rick’s gaze dropped to her thighs as she soothed herself and back up slightly to rest on her chest as she leant over to reach for a cup of tea sat on the coffee table. He managed to shift his gaze to her face before she noticed. She smiled awkwardly at Rick again, before glancing at Beth.

He looked away quickly and snapped his eyes to Beth. “S-sweetie, I-I gotta go the garage, I l-l-left an alien egg in the incubator and it could hatch a-any minute.” He turned away before she could respond and made his way back to the garage.

“O-okay, Dad! Are you gonna be around later? I’ll be cooking dinner for us all!” Beth called out as he walked away.

He just managed to get out a brief “Mmmhmm.” Before sealing himself in the garage and leaning against the door. Fuck.

-------

Before Rick knew it, he was on his knees fumbling through box after box until his fingers finally wrapped around them. He pulled the goggles out and began frantically turning the dial to the Rick from Earth Dimension B-814, the Rick whose life he had before. He had finally clicked that the first Rick he had observed and the random girl sitting with his family wasn't a random dismissible person at all, but rather one of the few versions of her. After all this time avoiding snooping into his alternate lives, it was clearly time to get some answers, to see if she was somehow significant in some way and if he could figure a way to avoid it. Avoid her.

I can do anything. I'm fucking Rick Sanchez, smartest man in the universe. I choose my own life, I'm fucking god.

But why did she have to be so captivating. In the few short moments he had interacted with her, she made him want to know her. He wrote it off as just sexual attraction and nothing more. Of course I’m attracted to her, I’m a human male, I have eyes and a brain. She's attractive, sure. She’s smiley and approachable too, the total opposite of me. Of course that peaked my attraction to her. Nothing special, nothing important. Not significant.

He told himself B-814 probably never even pursued anything with her, she was just there all those years ago because of Beth.

Once he put the goggles on, he saw the one thing he hoped he wouldn’t.

B-814 was lying in bed on his side, with his arm draped over a woman lying with her back to him. Rick leant forward and kissed a spot behind her ear. His effect was immediate, she giggled and rolled over to look into his eyes, smiling softly.

“I still can’t believe you actually moved in-”. She shifted forward to kiss him, and she placed her hand on his face. She gently pushed his hair out of his eyes as she continued. “After all the obstacles and reservations. All these years…”. She looked into his eyes with such adoration.

B-814 broke into a teasing smile, “Baby girl…y-you don’t need to remind me how old I am. All these years… I don’t know why you even feel this way f-for an old ass man. Shit, d-do you even know how old I am? Babe-i have to tell you something. I’m not the smartest man in the universe, I-I’m the oldest.” She laughed hard at his teasing and shoved him playfully. “Okay, o-okay, I’ll stop.” He urged as he frantically pulled her back into bed because she was rolling her eyes and getting up. He settled his hand on her waist pulling her in and continued in a more serious tone. “L-look, I- I-I know I’ve been stubborn, I just never thought in a million years that Beth would end up being so excepting of us! I know I had some shit to figure out in my own head too. Y-you know I don’t, or didn’t, really resign to relationship stuff or love. I mean love is just familiarity over time, or at least I thought it was. Ugh, shit, I’m so fucking lucky to have such-such incredible women in my life.” He shifted the hand on his waist to grasp her hip. She had a playful look in her eyes as her cheeks flushed slightly pink. She then opened her mouth to begin another round of teasing, but Rick swiftly cut her off her incoming remark with a kiss. She hummed happily into his mouth as he shifted his on top of her, his hands caressing every inch of her.

Rick C-149 was stunned. What were the chances he came across that interaction? This couldn’t be a common outcome. He was even talking about love? Living with each other. Rick had maybe expected a small fling but nothing that, deep.

He began adapting the goggles. He had to get into these Rick’s heads, he needed to know what they were really thinking. After some rushed tinkering, he managed to make the goggles fully immersive. He would now experience the alternate Rick’s emotions and sensations. He would be able to be in their minds as if it was his own.

He swiftly used one of his now shaking hands to move the dial to another dimension, twisting and twisting until he saw her again. This time he landed on Earth Dimension S-223.

Rick was back in his garage in the midst of an argument.

“We should have never rekindled whatever the fuck this is.” she spat. “We should’ve never pursued this all those years ago, I mean, I’m your daughter’s best friend! Why do you keep constantly leaving and coming back again? Every time you do you reopen these old wounds. It’s been years of this on and off bullshit Rick. I’m dating Sam now. I’m settled, I’m happy.” She glowered into S-223’s eyes, waiting for a response.

Rick said nothing, somehow lost for words. He turned his back to her and started to fiddle with some metal scrap on his workbench, trying to appear busy. She sighed heavily and Rick sensed her moving toward him. She rested her hand on his lower back, and his whole body tensed.

“Rick…I was taken with you from the moment we met. Remember? You crashed into Gran’s house with that stupid spaceship of yours. God I remember Beth running across the road, a thousand apologies flying out of her mouth-" She paused to laugh at the fond memory. "-That was the first time Beth and I met too and we grew close quickly.” She sighed again, a sad nostalgia lingering in the air. “Rick, I think I always felt something for you. I mean- I was always making up some kind of excuse to come round, even when I hadn’t made plans with Beth. I’d linger in the same room as you, and visit Gran more and more often to do gardening in her front yard when your garage door was open. I remember even offering to help with your experiments.” Even with everything that had passed between them both, she still blushed at her confession. “Then once Grandma passed and I moved into her place...I think things…shifted. I mean fuck. Your presence in any room made my head spin. It still does.”

Rick B-814 was fighting hard not to react as she pulled his heart strings, warmth spreading across his chest. He remembered her enthusiasm to help out, her slightly too long glances at him. Her hours in her Grans front garden, planting flowers, weeding and trimming the hedges. She had this uncanny knack of knowing when he would be home, conveniently planning her visits to her Grandmother accordingly. She thought she was subtle, but he picked up on it easily. How could anything she did be subtle when he noticed her every little thing. He couldn’t help but spend more time in the house when she was over, or opening the garage when he saw her car pull up to her Grandma’s house. He had been just as taken with her the moment he dropped out of his ship onto that front yard. The memory of it gave him a mix of shame and but deep fondness for her. He felt so wrong feeling that way, it was wrong lusting after her, especially when she had become so close to his daughter.

C-149 felt floored being pulled into B-814’s memories, experiencing the surges of fondness and doubt and nostalgia.

“We risked your relationship with Beth the moment we kissed.” she sighed.

Guilt began to flood his brain at the mention of Beth. He turned around slowly and held her hands, not daring to look into her eyes.

She squeezed his hands, her voice suddenly filled with urgency. “She doesn’t even know about us! Whenever you leave for a year or two at a time and come back, she always thinks it's something she’s done! Because she's not good enough for you, not because you can't handle being around me. Our-whatever this is. This back and forth is getting too exhausting. Why can't you just stay here this time, for real? If-if we can’t be together then, fine. But I know these feelings can eventually pass, I know we will get used to being around each other but not touching, eventually we won’t even want each other anymore. We just need to give it time, a true chance to settle.”

Rick began shaking his head knowing his feelings would never fade but knowing he could never be with her; he couldn’t let himself admit to wanting all of her. She didn't deserve to be mixed up in his life more than she was already. A true relationship with him would ruin her more than he already had. She deserved a true partnership, a joyful life. The chance to make her own home, her own family. He could never be enough for her and settling down would never be enough for him.

She watched his head shake and grew in frustration. “Or-or just leave then and this time stay gone! Don’t come waltzing back in a year’s time to start the same infuriating cycle. This limbo you’ve thrown us in is poisoning everything. Sam he- Sam is a good guy, I want him to move in, I-I want to - I need to start my own life with him. But every time you come back, I lose myself in you again.” She let out a rattling breath, trying, but failing to fight tears back.

“Baby…d-don’t talk like that.” He reached a hand up and brushed her tears away which had finally broken free. “I didn’t-we can’t- I-I can’t help feeling w-what - wanting you, I-I just can’t-I can’t be- we can’t be -us.” He struggled to explain himself and instead pulled her into a tight hug as she sobbed into his chest.

She pulled away to look into his eyes, “What, what even is this? How do you even feel Rick, do you want me, want us or do you just like possessing me? My body? I mean is this all some twisted game for you? If it is really just about us screwing, I don’t get why you feel the need to leave. I mean surely you can get over yourself and stay? But if you want us, like truly want us, then tell me and we will figure it out. We can tell Beth. I'll break up with Sam because it is not fair on him, I can’t do this to him any longer.”

He looked away again becoming agitated at her new line of questioning. “I-I don’t know? W-why would you e-even ask that?” He asked incredulously. “I-I just like being around you, I - we make - I make you - I like touching you. You feel r-right. D-don’t try and make it something-something-It’s not-or maybe it is? Christ-it's not that I don’t feel- don’t feel-”. Rick reluctantly looked into her eyes again, they could’ve burnt a hole right through him.

He could see her mind whirring as she tried to figure out what was going on behind his eyes. She usually saw right through him, and this time was no different. Fed up she started pulling away, but he held her tighter. “You-you can’t even admit it to yourself! You can’t even say it-”. A torrent of accusations began to flow, but he cut it off, pulling her into a desperate kiss. After a moment of resistance, she returned it with the same frantic energy. They clung to each other like they were each other’s life raft, the other one’s kiss lifesaving sustenance.

“I can’t...”, she gasped between kisses. “Sam he-”. Rick kissed along her jawline, hands digging into her waist and travelling lower. “He doesn’t deserve this-”.

She jerked her head back and grabbed Rick's face so he would look into her eyes.“Rick. You're destroying me.”

His eyes filled with hesitation but before he could second guess himself, she pulled him in for another urgent kiss.

They gave into their need melting into each other’s arms. She wrenched off his lab-coat, as he lifted her onto his workbench. The pair almost fit together like two parts of a whole.

Filled with desperation and yearning he pushed into her again and again until she came apart in his arms.

I got some inspo from Bridgeton Season 2 for one of the lines in S-223’s section. It hurt 🫥

[conscious-naivete]

hi!! I saw your post about the national library card from I think you said a library in Seattle?? I’m trying to get back into reading and this sounds super cool so I’m wondering how you did that and how it connects to libby! (I don’t have libby, so another question is do you like/recommend libby?) thanks!!

this is such an awesome ask to receive hihihi first of all i wanna say i'm also trying to get back into reading rn and libby is making it so much easier for me! listening to audiobooks at work i've already read more books in 3 months than all of last year. i'm not even sure which post you're coming from bc i've been making lots of excited posts about discovering new options lol

so the seattle thing i referenced is the books unbanned program the seattle public library is involved in and i recently reblogged a post listing several other libraries also involved, basically offering access to their digital library to anyone in the US (within a certain age group, but i'm hoping it's fudgeable?). i'm hoping you're in the US, idk how it works elsewhere

all i did was sign up for a card and i got an email with a card number which is good for a year! i'm still discovering this myself, so i haven't looked at any of the others or properly explored the options on the SPL website yet (on top of libby access they have their own online library!) i imagine the cards from the other libraries probably work the same way.

libby is an app for accessing ebooks and audiobooks through your public library. it's kind of the 2.0 version of overdrive, if you're familiar w that, from which it took over. you search up your library in the app and input your card number/account info and tada! access to whatever catalog your library has!

i would absolutely recommend libby, it's pretty easy to use, you can make custom lists of books with their 'tags' feature (i have a list i know i want to check out, one i want to take a second look at called "hmm," and one just called "whoa what" just for a collection of remastered old radio plays(?!))

i figured i'd try plugging the SPL card and was happily surprised to find it worked! i have two cards added rn, my local lib has a borrowing limit of 5 items at a time and SPL has limit of 10, and they both have a hold limit of 10. SPL has a way huger catalog than my local, and while the waitlists are longer, they have more copies(/digital lending licenses or whatever). it was so exciting to find all the new stuff that i hadn't had available before!

(i would check your library website to see what digital resources they offer and are connected with. i think libby is nearly universal? i've also used kanopy, which has tv and movies (my library had this one a couple years ago but i couldn't log back in recently i think they ended whatever subscription they had) and hoopla, which has books, audiobooks, comics, comics adapted into audio format, tv series, movies, music, sheet music,,,! and you get 10 borrows a month plus wvr bonuses they're currently offering. i love hoopla a LOT. i haven't had luck accessing those two using my SPL card, though. my library is also listing freegal for music and another couple services for specifically kids' books)

please feel free to ask me more questions if i didn't answer to your satisfaction, i got overexcited

[fits-like-a-fist-in-the-eye]

Hello everyone! This blog is dedicated to the Mock Turtle Soup au, also known as Soupverse! MTS is an original au, though it is mostly Rise based. It diverges more and more from Rise canon as you go on, but I think the first few fics in the series look mostly just like a Rise au. The MTS universe has my own spin on mystics, yōkai, and the hidden city, as well as the origin of mutants. Everything will be revealed the further in you go! Pretty much every character is queer, disabled, and neurodivergent, because I am, and I am not quite sure just how much of this au is me projecting various trauma onto my favourite characters. There will be original characters, just because I want to give the turtles and April friends. They deserve to be loved! There will also be my own versions of characters that have appeared in various canon iterations! Just so you know, by the way, the Splinter in Soupverse fucking SUCKS. I hate him. And then I kill him. Not because I don’t like Splinter’s character(s) in canon, just because I wanted to. And then the angst sort of spiralled and he got… so much worse.

While the focus of this au is healing, love, self discovery and acceptance, and family, it does delve into a lot of heavy topics. The following is a list of trigger warnings.

Past kidnapping, medical torture, non consensual drugging, vivisection, dehumanization, implied/referenced CSA (non graphic), child abuse and neglect, gore and all it entails, medical procedures and instruments, starvation, disordered eating, accidental self harm, panic attacks, vomiting, implied/referenced suffocation, implied/referenced cannibalism (he deserved it), surgery, amputation and prosthetics, referenced queerphobia, referenced ableism, referenced death/murder, PTSD, mental conditions such as DID and OSDD, sexual trauma

(this list will be edited as I go on, as I may miss or forget things)

The summary of the first fic is as follows:

A few years ago, April read a book on different turtle species and their care in her favourite little nook in the local library. She found it fascinating that an alligator snapping turtle could grow as heavy as an adult human, and briefly wondered how much they had to eat compared to other turtles. But the phone her parents had just bought her— she was *ten* now, almost an adult! Of course she needed a phone— buzzed a few times, indicating a message from one of her mutant turtle friends, and she put the book back on its shelf. It was Mikey, asking her to come hang out. Of course she would go! She loved hanging out with the turtles, and she loved sneaking around to get stuff for them when Mr. Splinter couldn’t find enough without being spotted. She always brought gifts every time she came over to their house; partly because they were fun to find, and partly because she knew they were short on most things, especially food. She wanted to help her friends!

She skipped out of the library, head held high and full of thoughts of introducing the turtles to cinnamon rolls for the first time, and the book and her musings slipped out of her mind entirely.

A few days ago, April read a book on different turtle species and their care in the most secluded little nook in the local library that she could find. She found it worrying that she couldn’t find anything that would really be applicable to her friends, but she’d already looked through books on human biology and medicine, and nothing there seemed quite right either. She didn’t have much to go off of in the first place, but she’d thought maybe she could find a place to start by looking at some symptoms.

Her phone buzzed a few times, indicating a message from one of her mutant turtle friends, and she put the book back on its shelf. It was Mikey, asking her to come hang out, if she had anything new to share, if they could do some brainstorming together.

Of course she would go. Mikey had trusted her to help Raph when he couldn’t help himself, and she couldn’t let either of them down.

Maybe she’d bring the turtles some dessert. She was pretty sure they still hadn’t tried cheesecake.

[littlestsnicket]

i MUST know about klaus and lemony talking about books!!!!

a zillion years ago i wrote two pieces of fic: one where violet talked to lemony about her parentage and one where sunny and lemony made dinner and talked about the sugar bowl. there was always supposed to be a third fic to complete the set where klaus talked to lemony about the version of a series of unfortunate events that exists in universe, specifically that lemony has a picture of him and his siblings and bertrand playing in the fountain, and klaus has feelings about this. i never got it to come together right, but i haven't given up yet.

here is a snippet:

It had not become obvious that Mr. Snicket was behaving oddly and stand-offishly around him specifically, until Mr. Snicket gradually became more relaxed around his sibling. It was vaguely frustrating, infuriating even when combined with the heat, that Klaus couldn’t put his finger on exactly what Mr. Snicket was doing, or, for the life of him, determine a cause. But his siblings had simply nodded in agreement that Mr. Snicket did seem noticeably less comfortable around Klaus.

“Maybe you remind him of Mother. But it can’t help that you keep calling him Mr. Snicket, “ Violet volunteered.

“No, my research indicates that many people, including his closest friends, call him Mr. Snicket. Why would I remind him of Mother?”

“You frown and smile in just the way she used to. And you can be quite loudly passionate about injustice. Perhaps you should talk to him about it.”

Klaus looked pointedly as Sunny—with their shared tendency to oscillate between sincere kindness and prickly sarcasm, he expected her to have some insight into the inner workings of Mr. Snicket.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Sunny said softly. She’d always skirted around it, never admitted it, but Klaus felt his stomach sink. His youngest sister could not possibly remember their parents. But this was not enough to push the annoyance out of his overheated brain.

“Then what?”

“You’re a researcher,” she said, the earlier trace of sadness gone from her voice. Klaus wasn’t sure if this was an explanation or a demand that he figure it out himself. He made a displeased noise and left for the library.

[moviemunchies]

Ever since I had the urge to watch Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, I thought I should one day go back and watch the first Puss in Boots movie. And probably all of the Shrek movies too, but the cat took precedence.

Welp it’s on Netflix right now, so why not?

Puss in Boots was the first spin-off film of Shrek that told the origin story of the titular sword-wielding cat. This is HIS story–how he became an outlaw, how he got his boots, and a big adventure featuring his own cast of characters. He’s a bandit on his own until he hears about the outlaw couple Jack and Jill transporting magic beans, treasure he’s wanted since he was a kitten. But there’s another thief after the beans: Kitty Softpaws, a literal cat burglar who is working for Humpty Dumpty, an old friend of Puss’s that betrayed him a long time ago. Humpty convinces Puss to once again join forces for the ultimate heist: take the magic beans, go up to the sky giant’s castle, and steal the golden eggs of the goose that lives there.

Right out the gate, my thought was: This isn’t as good as the second one. Which is a high bar! Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is about grappling with one’s own mortality and learning to live with your own choices with a fun art style that looks like concept art come to life. And I knew going in that a lot of people felt the same way, but I still wanted to check out this movie. It’s not like this one’s regarded badly after all.

And it is a solid animated film. It feels more like what Dreamworks was famous for… well, in the year it came out. There was a long time when people thought of Dreamworks as the competitor to Disney in that instead of making classic fairy tale retellings, it did more irreverent takes on its stories. It was still doing really good work–Shrek is a lot deeper than many gave it credit for, and it was also doing heartfelt stories in Madagascar, How to Train Your Dragon, and Kung Fu Panda.

I mean, there is some heavy stuff in this movie! The cost of betrayal and the price of forgiveness and redemption–those are big things! I don’t know if they’re handled all the well–Humpty Dumpty’s character arc in this movie isn’t incoherent, but it doesn’t feel entirely earned at the end of the day, either. Kitty’s relationship with Puss also feels fairly stereotypical, but then again I feel as if this is a sendup to movies about bandits and heists, so it’s MEANT to feel familiar to more experienced audiences while introducing these tropes to younger viewers.

The action in the movie is pretty solid–I don’t think any of it matches the sword fighting action of the second film (except MAYBE the dance battle between Puss and Kitty), which is a shame because Puss in Boots is known for waving a sword around. Still, this one has a villain who actually carries a gun? It’s more of a little cannon, but it’s still closer to a recognizable firearm than I expected in an animated movie about fairy tale characters.

[I am a little bit annoyed that the version of Puss in Boots in this universe is apparently entirely divorced from the actual fairy tale of “Puss in Boots”, but I suppose I should be that surprised. He was introduced as a parody of Zorro, after all]

This is far from a highlight in the Dreamworks library, but those are big boots to fill (pun kinda intended?). It’s a pretty good movie in its own right. The sequel that came out at the end of last year is markedly better by leaps and bounds, but if you want a fun, stylish family animated action movie, you could do a lot worse than Puss in Boots.

[libraryofcirclaria]

17 October 1260

Library of Circlaria

Third Level Society: First Version

Story Five: Oscar Lehman

I'm just astounded that Karlin Maryk would be so accepting, without further question, of such a radical and expensive idea proposed by a Freshman Member.

I've been a Member, myself, of the Third Level Society for four years, and Karlin Maryk three years. But his leadership talent was what made me to help push for his election as the next Dungeonmaster two years ago, after Jon Beyon's departure. Karlin and I had been close friends up to that point, for he is also my roommate in House Fleming. And we grew closer ever more while I worked as an Administrator of the Cresca Sector of the Arturian Realm.

Just last month, we formed a coalition against a proposal in the Caucus to endorse Edward Jackson as the next Prime Minister of the Federal Estates of Retun. That proposal was made by Adam Mensley, a stout supporter of Jackson, firmly believing that Jackson would defeat the incumbent James Black, who was running on the Foundationist Party platform against the National Labor Party candidate, Robert Smith. We initially thought that an independent candidate of the National Diplomatic Party, a third party, would stand no chance of breaking the mold of a two-party dynamic already in place in the Republic. Of course, with the election at an equal tie between the three candidates, no one would have guessed that, with the courts calling recount after recount, we still don't know who our next Prime Minister will be.

But here we had Adam Mensley, thinking it a bright idea to have our Third Level Society Caucus vote to endorse Edward Jackson. True, the name of our Membership Body "Caucus" derives from the notion that the Society, early on, intended to establish an external voting group to influence legislative proceedings in the Council of Cabotton proper. That notion was shortly abandoned, though we kept the name, "Caucus."

Karlin and I met in our Common Room and came to the conclusion that we had trouble. Up to this point, the Society had never taken part in any external political matter, let alone a federal election. In fact, such is against our Principles. Also, on a national scale, the Third Level Society, a local presence at best, stands next to null in terms of exerting political influence on a national level, making Mensley's endorsement idea pointless. Furthermore, and most importantly, not everyone in the Society supports Jackson. So making a move like that would put the Society in danger of strife.

So during our meeting in our Common Room, we made a plan to generate flyers to get the Caucus to vote down Mensley's idea. We had many fellow Members pass these around and make pledges to us, but such efforts were in vain; the Caucus ended up supporting Mensley by a thin margin and voted in favor of endorsing Jackson.

It was embarrassing for us. Furthermore, Mensley called out Dungeonmaster Karlin Maryk over the Ticketer Public Section for exercising an opinion on this. This was most likely what got Karlin to invite me, after that Mensley endorsement vote, to make a joint statement with him to ensure the Society otherwise upholds traditions and trie to maintain neutrality in external political affairs going forward. We launched a subsequent pledge on this and convinced a large number of Members, having been opposed to Mensley, to not leave the Society.

Our resilience at that time last month was, I feel, the strongest chapter in our friendship.

But Karlin joined forces this month with this radical Freshman. I cannot fathom how Karlin does not understand what this will do to the Society. I am truly baffled.

The Freshman's name is Marcus Terrings, 23 years old, a student who graduated Cabotton University one year before me. I stand corrected when saying that, technically, he is not actually a Freshman. Terrings is a seasoned Veteran, but everyone in the Society thought he was weird. Even Jon Beyon, the radical inventor of the Jon Beyon Console, saw Terrings as a radical.

You see, Terrings is obsessed with astronomy, the stars, and the planets. There's nothing wrong with that. And he did point out that the Original Story telling of the fictitional establishment of the Arturian Realm involved a fifth layer, known as the Cosmoworld, of our multi-faceted Arturian Realm.

For context, our Realm is divided into four "Worlds": the Underworld, known as the Antecosmos; the Dungeonworld; the Terraworld, where most quests are carried out; and the Divineworld, where dwell the deity-avatars and their antics.

Terrings pointed out that, according to the Doctrine of the Beginnings of the Arturian Realm, which all of us refer to as the Original Story, but nonetheless which every Freshman Member is encouraged to learn when they first join, there is actually a fifth "World": the Cosmoworld. In that Cosmoworld are other globes similar to Arturia that are colonized by the Five Nations.

Of course, our actual Realm in which we engage our avatars consists only of Arturia, which is actually a grid; though we have "loop boundaries" at each of the four edges which help to simulate Arturia as a globe; and each of the Netherworlds in the Antecosmos has this as well. As for the Cosmoworld, our Algorithms Books acknowledge that such a Cosmoworld exists, though we do not have a Cosmoworld to access because building something like that is beyond our technological scope. Instead, we have algorithm-generated avatars that appear and disappear as if they are going to and from the aforementioned exoplanets; and we also have other back-dynamics embedded in our Algorithms Books to cast various influences and nuances upon our dymensional plane to help simulate as if Planet Arturia was one of many globes. But in reality, the Arturian Realm has been the only world in which we have engaged.

And Marcus Terrings was not satisfied with this, which is part of what makes him weird. All throughout his time in the Society, he obsessed over the existence of the Cosmoworld, and insisted that we make it a possibility. Honestly, there is nothing wrong with that except for the required fundamental changes to our dymensional plane, which are exhausting logistically, not to mention financially. So everyone else has been accepting of our current arrangement.

Nonetheless, Terrings persisted. He made proposals at every session, much to everyone's annoyance. Finally, it took Jon Beyon having a private conversation with him to get him to stop. That was two years ago. And stop he did, but then he held a grudge and renounced his Membership. We did not hear much from Terrings over the two years that followed other than that he decided to double-major in Astronomy and Dymensionalism. We found that a bit odd, owing to his fallout with us. But it turns out he had a plan.

Over this past summer and the last, Terrings built a device combining a planetarium machine with a dymensional frame. And he actually managed to create globular dymensional planes. Not just one but many, structured with smaller ones inside bigger ones.

This was unheard of. When Karlin and I first heard, we dismissed it as a rumor. Then we forgot about it as we were dealing with Adam Mensley. Last week, however, Terrings returned and approached the Bookkeeper to have our Caucus session on Wednesday September 5 dedicated as a venue for him to present his invention.

At first, I was curious about this, so I went. In fact, there were at least 500 people there to hear about this as well. And I will have to admit, what he presented was quite interesting. He designed a holographic dymensional plane, a globular one, of a system of stars, around each orbited six gas giants, and around each gas giant orbited six worlds that could hold the equivalent of a world like the Arturian Realm. His new machine, which he called a "Planetaryum," also consisted a fancy array of optical projection capabilities so that he could zoom out and show that the star system he showed us was, in fact, one of six orbiting a close-knit cluster of stars in the center.

Another feature of this globular dymensional plane was its ability to condense itself to fit into a reasonably-sized frame, which is good considering how unbelieveably large it is. In fact, I was wondering how anyone would be able to navigate their avatar across its vastness without losing interest, when Terrings presented his next feature: the interglobal gyroship. This was like an airship, except it had the ability to travel through outer space from planet to planet. He demonstrated the gyroship's capability to "sprint" from one planet to another in the same star system, and then to "jump" from one star system to another. I almost laughed at this, not because I was unimpressed, but because scientists in recent years dreamed of the idea of building an airship capable of leaving our atmosphere in order to transit the void to explore our blue planetary neighbor: Nephina. Obviously, these were merely fantasies.

It's incredible, though, Marcus Terrings' globular dymensional plane. It really is. And Terrings really should get recognition for this. I believe there is no one else in history that has been able to craft a globular dymensional plane. And in fact, he did mention that he was being considered for an invitation to the Canticulan city of Cenofan, across the Ocean, for formal recognition from the international organization, Congress of Circlaria, for significant progress in the art of spellcrafting.

However, its implementation would fundamentally alter the well-standing political dynamics that exist both in the Arturian Realm and between Society Members.

When the Arturian Realm was initially conceived, Ivella Ogden and the other founders intended originally for the Realm to be a stratification of types of technology with a particular type to be made appropriate to the level in the political hierarchy. So the political hierarchy of the Arturian Realm is as follows: the Realm consists of five Nations; each Nation consists of Provinces; each Province consists of Counties; each County consists of Municipalities; and each County consists of commercial, military, governmental, or residential Plots. In fact, this hierarchy was inspired by real political hierarchies in the Retunian Republic, and our neighbor, the Kingdom of the Great North. And in terms of technology, it was originally intended that each Plot conveyed life in the Rope Age, like in ancient Remikra; that each Municipality conveyed life in the Water Age, like in ancient Wannonia; that each County conveyed life in the Steam Age, like in Remikra before the foundation of Combria in 1086; that each Province conveyed life in the Modern Age, like the world today; and that each Nation, and the Five Nations together in Arturia, conveyed life in a futuristic age of "gyro-mechanisation."

Such stratification was somehow maintained in that fateful TableQuest session back in 1243, apparently. But when put into practice in the implementation of the Third Level Society, things began to deviate fairly quickly.

First, the Members and avatars in the topmost hierarchy quickly abandoned "gyro-mechanisation." My guess was that it was too radical and abstract; so those members lost interest quickly and turned to the electric machines and vehicles, some turning even to the steam vessels.

It was with the Steam Age component that things changed the most. In building the Arturian Realm, and rebuilding it for the Society, its builders, especially Ivella Ogden, were made to deeply delve into the research of the Steam Age that happened in our world, which accompanied the days of prestigious global trade for the Kingdom of the Great North. In the course of research, the partakers became quite fascinated with the Steam World, both in terms of its technology and some of its political dynamics. And this gave rise to a rapidly-increasing base of Members considered to be "Steamsters."

Furthermore, many quest leaders and powerful questors had ascended to but largely remained at the County hierarchical level, thus incentivizing them to partake in the Steam Age component. This has been the case with every passing year. Members with avatars in the Province, Municipality, and Plot hierarchies gravitated to this "Steamster" base during this time, so that, even as early on as the latter half of Ivella Ogden's Dungeonmaster tenure, the Steam Age all but defined the Arturian Realm, and the culture of the Membership Caucus.

The "Steamster" culture knows no partisan boundaries, not from what I've experienced. I know both Traditionalists and Progressivists long seasoned by the "Steamster" fabric, and have steadfast passion for it as I do. It is the only thing, I feel, that keeps the Society from being ripped apart by the dueling Traditionalist and Progressivist camps. Jon Beyon endorsed it; in fact, he was the first to use the word "Steamster" and told us to boast that term with pride. That's why he got elected. And Karlin, as Dungeonmaster, tipped his hat to the "Steamster" title out of respect.

Marcus Terrings voiced annoyance at this early on, when he first joined. That's what made him all but an outcast. Though still a Member, he did not...shall I say...mesh with the fabric of the Society. He imposed his idea that we were "backward" and that the Society should "modernize" and convert into a dymensional world that "conquers the Cosmos with vessels to explore the Cosmos." We were all uncomfortable with this, because, obviously, that would render the "Steamsters" obsolete, thus giving opportunity for Traditionalist-Progressivist rivalries to fester. Jon Beyon made this clear to Terrings. But instead of voicing understanding, Terrings stormed out.

But now Terrings is back, and he is back with the same attitude. The only thing that's changed is his strategy. It works, too. I was quite fascinated with his invention, but unlike the other 200 or so people in the Caucus Chamber, I knew better than to simply buy into this and turn my back on the "Steamster" culture. To clarify, the Chamber, that night, was split evenly over the issue, causing me a bit of anxiety. However, I am not surprised, as there has been quite the influx of new Members from more distant parts of Remikra in recently.

That's the issue, though. Our country has, now, a more complete cable rail network than it did ten years ago. One can now travel by cable train without interruption between here and Savel on the West Coast, and even into the Great North. While I see that as an improvement, with cable rail travel having facilitated tourism and permanent relocation, we have seen, especially in the last two years, quite the influx of newcomers. And many of these have joined our Society, which now has about 900 Members. More than a fourth of our Caucus consists of Freshmen and young Veterans who would not have the audacity to vote out an unstable figure like Cray Fenton from the Dungeonmaster position should we encounter that again. We have more diversity, but we have less understanding of what the Society is and what it stands for.

That Saturday, I met with Dungeonmaster Karlin Maryk, for he was at Terrings' presentation as well, and saw the excitement displayed by the Members at simply embracing the radical change without considering the consequences. I hardly needed to mention to Karlin that not only would the undertaking incur enough costs to consider a loan from a financial institution, but also, atop having to face such a debt, our revenue would decrease substantially. Yes, we have 900 Members, but only a fourth of them are naive Freshmen in support of Terrings' idea while the remaining 75 percent is split almost evenly between the Progressivist and Traditionalist camps. And although I have gravitated toward the Progressivist camp in recent months, I am close friends to those who call themselves Traditionalists; and many of these Traditionalists, including significant Quest Leaders, threatened to leave the Society if the "Steamster" world was lost to Terrings' reforms. Thus, our resulting reduction in revenue would render us incapable of paying our debts and even risk forcing the Society to have to file for bankruptcy.

Karlin completely dismissed this concern when I told him.

In fact, he explicitly told me that he was elated. His excuse was that the Arturian Realm as it was has become "saturated with avatars, and that inter-avatar dynamics were turning dull."

"Terrings understands," Karlin told me. "We need to expand the 'playing field' many-fold."

"Are you out of your mind!?" I told him. "What you'll get is a mass-exodus of avatars rushing out into the Cosmos to explore the exoplanets. That means we will spread out and become separate...far too quickly!"

"Why are you concerned about that?"

"Why do you not understand!? That means smaller questing teams, meaning more rivalries between avatars and between Members. More division in the Society!"

"That's why we have Caucus meetings, Oscar. We Members always convene every Wednesday to discuss what is best for the organization. Also, more Members are going to be joining soon, which I'm sure will counterbalance any Membership exodus that may ensue."

I rose up out of my seat in rage to this. "So you're turning your back on the 'Steamster' community!"

"The 'Steamster' vibe will persevere," Karlin said calmly with a smile.

"On what hard proof do you base that claim?"

Karlin's smile got ever wider but still stayed innocent. "None, I will admit. But at the end of the day, though we all wish not to admit it, there is such a thing as blind faith."

I still am absolutely baffled at Karlin's ignorant attitude. He is becoming delusional like Cray Fenton. Even worse, while Cray Fenton's paranoia was seen a long way off, Karlin Maryk's attitude came out of nowhere. I just don't understand. In the time I knew him, he was the "Steamster" of all "Steamsters." We had a mutual pact to remain independent of the Traditionalist and Progressivist camps, even though I took a liking to a lot of what the Progressivists had to say and Karlin the Traditionalists. We had sense to not let this divide us or put our friendship in jeopardy.

Perhaps he is doing this to try and assert his independent stance, by coming off as a figure open to compromise. But to support this drastic change puts the "Steamster" culture, itself, in jeopardy. That was what kept us together, our mutual liking for "Steam." That was what kept the entire Society together. If this change goes through, I honestly do not know what the future of the Society will bring other than the grim prediction I'm conceiving at this time.

I've been in love with the Society. I feel that I am one with it. I would never imagine in my wildest dreams that I would ever think to separate from it. But honestly, if this storm comes to pass, I do not feel comfortable sticking around when the mighty walls come tumbling down.

-> 23 October 1260 ->