#he deserves all good things in the world

[andrwgarfields]

Its the way i just keep falling more in love with joe locke everytime 🥹

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

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[screwpinecaprice]

Just a silly guy, with silly silly thoughts.

@glowweek Day 2

Casual | Surprise

A casual surprise?😬😬😬

[musical-chick-13]

This is the only thing I'm going to say about the election until it's over:

Anyone who did not vote for Harris or who attempted to dissuade people from voting for Harris, you are indirectly responsible for whatever shit Donald Trump does if he gets elected. That blood is primarily on his hands, yes. But it is also on yours. I hope you can live with that because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to.

[strryhaze]

bobby & david kennedy

“There was some level on which David tapped his father’s sensitivity. You would find him walking with David or with his arm around David. David just seemed to need it.”

— chuck mcdermott.

“If his father’s death hit David harder than the others, it was because there had been a special bond between them—both were the runts of the litter, sandwiched into the middle of a large family. He was the only one in the family who hadn’t been enthusiastic about the run for the presidency. For weeks after his father’s announcement, David had been plagued by recurring nightmares about Bobby’s death. Distraught over episodes that seemed premonitory, and missing the special attention his father had given him, David had gotten in trouble for throwing rocks at cars passing by Hickory Hill. The day of the California primary, he had joined his father in Los Angeles. The two of them had been swimming and he had felt himself being carried out by the undertow when his father grabbed him, scraping his own head on the ocean floor as he reached for David’s slippery arm. With a teenager’s melodrama, David had decided that he owed his father a life and would look for an opportunity to pay him back in the years ahead. That night as he sat in front of the television set in his room in the Ambassador Hotel and watched [his father] bleeding on the floor downstairs, one of the thoughts he had was that the debt would be forever undischarged.”

“As the worst year of their young lives came to a close, they decided to surprise their mother at Christmas with a book comprised of letters about their father. David’s said: ‘Daddy was very funny in church because he would embarrass all of us by singing very loud. Daddy did not have a very good voice. There will be no more football with Daddy, no more swimming with him, no more riding and no more camping with him. But he was the best father there ever was and I would rather have him for a father for the length of time I did than any other father for a million years.”

— the kennedy’s, peter collier & david horowitz.

“David looked at himself in those pictures like they were a strange sort of mirror. He looked at them half a dozen times at least, mesmerized by them, and he kept asking me questions. There was a tremendous desire to know his father, to really know him.”

— john seigenthaler.

“David and Bobby were so close. They were inseparable. David was small, a runt like Bobby had been.” Ethel then explained to Noelle (her secretary) that David had always been a very sensitive youngster, very introverted, "not like the other boys. He and I would go and pick flowers while his brothers were killing each other with their crazy games", Ethel recalled with a smile.

— ethel kennedy.

“I think about death a lot. Time hasn’t erased the death of my father from my mind. My family thinks I’m no good and that I’ll never beat my problem. They’ve written me off. I’m trying to get it together, but it’s so difficult. I’m having a terrible time at it. And the thing I want most in the world is the approval of my family, but they want nothing to do with me. All I want is to be with my father.”

— david kennedy, april 1984.

“Like his family, his friends had all wondered at one time or another if he would kill himself; but when it finally came his death was nonetheless shocking. ‘I keep asking myself why. Why David? Why now? All I can come up with is that maybe his father was looking down from heaven and saw all the hell these people were putting him through and said, ‘Come on, You’ve suffered enough. It’s time you were up here with me.’”

— nancy narleski.

Years after David Kennedy’s death, his cousin, Patrick Kennedy recalled a haunting and heartbreaking recollection he had with his father, Teddy, sitting beside his cousin’s casket: “My father remembered Bobby telling him that, as a father, he needed to spend more time with David. He also recounted a story Uncle Bobby had told him just before his own death. On the day before the California primary, the Robert Kennedys had gone swimming in Malibu, to relax together. David had been knocked over by a wave and got caught in the undertow, and his father had come to his rescue. When Uncle Bobby told my father this story, he talked about ‘the undertow’ in broader terms, how there was an undertow in life and David, who was only then thirteen, already seemed vulnerable to it. And then, just hours later, Uncle Bobby was murdered as David watched the TV coverage in their hotel room upstairs. It was unbelievably poignant to hear my father tell this story. David was in the casket next to us. And I wasn’t that much older than David when his father worried whether he could survive the undertow.”

[shannonsketches]

[apollos-boyfriend]

tags by @.transbeeduo but putting this here bc the other post was already long enough LMAO and i feel like this needs its own space but GOD i have been thinking about this since it ended

i’m just going off what we have on purpled and not any ideas to how/if he changed after the original ending and like. oh my god. he’d be so angry. i don’t even think he’d celebrate that much, if at all. because yeah, he hated quackity, but he wanted quackity’s downfall to be by his own hand. and for most of his arc, he didn’t even want quackity dead. punz and dream are the ones to implant the idea of killing quackity—up until that point, it seemed like purpled’s plan was to break him emotionally by killing slime in front of him once more. he wanted quackity to suffer like suffered. to lose like he lost. while he had a secondary motive in a “legacy”, purpled’s primary motive was always taking something that was important to quackity. las nevadas would’ve taken his legacy, the revive book his hard work, and slimecicle his connections. it was always less about ending quackity for good in a physical sense. he wanted to see that man break, and he wanted it to have been by purpled’s hands.

purpled called dream a coward for having sent punz to talk to him and “not having the balls to face [purpled] himself.” i have no doubts he’d have a similar, much angrier, reaction to finding out what happened. purpled already thought quackity wasn’t able to own up to his actions. that he’d do anything to avoid facing/admitting the truth. quackity killing himself, without ever paying for his crimes (in purpled’s mind), would make purpled lose it.

although i guess ghosts are canon, so there’s nothing really keeping purp from still getting his revenge as long as he can find quackity’s ghost. i do think it would play out in this same way of him initially being so blinded by rage and disbelief at quackity’s nerve that he completely forgets about the fact that a part of quackity is technically still out there LMAO

[wazzappp]

I love thinking about how this would go down with them

[javierduffy]

just a few javieran horse headcanons because i like them a normal amount

branwen

- tall AND fat. kieran makes sure he’s always fed (maybe even accidentally a teensy bit overfed. just because kieran can’t help but indulge him when he butts him with his head or nuzzles at his pockets when he knows there’s treats in there. but never too much because ‘obesity is a problem, even in animals !’). probably about 17hh, taller than average for a kentucky saddler but nothing too big. especially since kieran himself is quite tall

- VERY well-tempered, both naturally, as well as because kieran has literally made him bulletproof. bagged him, blanketed him, stood, jumped, backflipped onto and off of him. this kindly gentleman of a horse only spooks when he wants to be bratty specifically.

- i think he’s about 6 or so, came from the stables kieran worked at after being orphaned, he was just a colt when kieran was just a kid. kieran learned how to birth foals quickly, and branwen happened to be one of them. with the way that they fell in love with each other and the way that branwen whinnied and pranced up to the fence when kieran came back to buy him after the army didn’t work out, you’d think that horse was born just for him.

- his favourite treats, in order, are rutabaga (kieran’s secret for branwen’s glossy coat. also why he’s kinda fat.), boiled potatoes mixed into his oats, apples, and fresh greens. he’s simultaneously incredibly easy to please because of the simplicity of the latter parts of his favourites list and also very needy and complicated because kieran so loves to make his pony happy with his absolute favourite treats, so he tries his very best to get branwen’s eccentric tastes pleased once falling into the VDL’s.

- i always say “a horse’s favourite thing to do is hurt itself”, and i think this statement holds relatively true for branwen as well, though there’s a 25% chance that he’s actually hurt, a 50% chance that he’s only mildly injured or spooked and he’s playing it up to get kieran to dote on him, and a 25% chance that he will protect kieran with his life when they’re in a dire situation (see: snake on the ground or gunfire nearby. or even god forbid a spare tumbleweed find it’s way rolling nearby.) despite kieran’s last wish being his horse getting injured. branwen thinks that he’s gotta be The Man and protect his dad sometimes. it does not help in any situation ever whatsoever.

- branwen is the PERFECT companion for a trail riding date. he’s settled, calm, has a great gait, and as a gelding, truly is not worried about other horses being “faster” than him, so he never gets rowdy nor has any problems when partner riders/horses crowd him. kieran is allowed to ask for as many kisses as he pleases because branwen will never jump when javier’s gold-tipped boots poke him in the side and boaz irritatedly flicks his flank with his tail. truly a goated wingman. also never complains about long rides, and enjoys being out of camp with his rider for as much as physically possible for both of them, so he’s never barnsour in either direction.

boaz

- as an american paint, he’s naturally short and stocky. saddle ends up being a bit loose, though, as javier isn’t as dedicated to keeping him perfectly fed or groomed. he loves him, sure, but horses are somewhat of tools to him, so he kinda does slightly more than bare minimum to keep him kempt and healthy. around 14.5hh, slightly shorter than average and quite dense with muscle

- temperamentally a bit volatile. this horse has just as much drama as his rider, if not a little more. doesn’t like something ? ridden too long ? that stick looks too much like a snake ? hasn’t spent enough time with kieran that day ? he will snort and grunt and bunny hop if javi isn’t on him, and shudder hard enough the saddle shakes underneath him if he is. boaz likes to please his rider, but he also demands pleasure himself, and has no issue with “accidentally” placing a hoof on his owners nice, intentionally clean boots, and subsequently slowly leaning more and more of his weight onto it when he doesn’t immediately get what he wants. bratty pony. generally, he keeps javier safe, though, when it comes down to it.

- around 5 years old. after dutch found javier trying to steal chickens the first time they met, he soon took him back to that ranch and their first take as gang leader and member was a 1 year old grey paint colt for javi to train and subsequently ride. until he was rideable, javier rode a morgan that was formerly hosea’s, named carolina, while he lead boaz everywhere behind him.

- favourite treats, in order, are corn cobs (especially dried), prickly pear fruit AND cactus, sugar cubes, and sliced apples. will force javier to share his maiz with him. javier has always sliced his apples up since he was a colt, not only because javi simply finds comfort in toying with his knife, but also because boaz will not eat them otherwise. javi will also cut all of the spines off of the cactus before letting boaz eat them.

- in terms of injury, boaz is the most dramatic tank on the planet. this horse could arthur morgan-style run face first into a tree and then fall off a cliff and walk it off. but not before he gimps and limps and whines and teeth grinds his way into javier leading him instead of riding him for the next mile or two. once kieran started taking care of him, there is also a 25% chance of boaz faking a terribly painful injury just to get kieran to dote on him.

- kinda the worst wingman ever LMFAO easily annoyed, easily aroused, easily offended, and as a stallion, HAS to walk in front of the “herd” (his rider’s boyfriend and his horse). pins his ears back, smashes into personal space, flicks branwen with his tail (and preferably kieran, if he can reach him) even sometimes will nip at branwen if the latter tries to calmly make this date a date and not a life or death race (whoever loses, their dad is gay) and walk side-by-side to aid their riders’ hand holdings. will make executive decisions via stopping or veering off for fresh green grass beside the trail, will at points actively attempt to shudder javier out of his saddle (has succeeded once when javi was distracted by a story being excitedly told by kieran), and will also spook and take off running so fast javier thinks it must have broken his neck from the velocity. generally makes trail rides a living hell, but kieran finds it charming, and it makes for some cute shoujo-style “omg … *reaches out to help you up after your horse bucks you off because he saw a log that looked nothing at all and everything like a cougar and pink and white soft bubbles surround me* are you okay ? here, let me help.” moments. maybe some day boaz will be allowed off of the national american terrorist list written by javier “rizzless rider” escuella

ok im tired and that’s all i can think of please enjoy and feel free to contribute 👍 i love them so bad im gona cry

[candyskiez]

Do you ever think about Minoris reaction to being freed from the possession because I do a lot. Like. Imagine you were used as a puppet to torment this incredibly kind and patient boy, who didn't do anything to you except be too odd and off-putting. Imagine you said so many horrible things to him and made school unbearable. Imagine you tormented him until he finally snapped and then he saves your life. After you made his life a living hell, he just...saves you anyway. And he looks at you with big, disappointed eyes and asks you if you actually treat people like that. If you would actually make someone's life a living hell or if that was just Mogami rewriting your personality to suit his needs. And you could lie. You want to lie. But you don't. You are like that. You have done it, multiple times, too many times. You've berated and harassed people who've done nothing but been too weird, too annoying, just existed wrong around you. And you have no excuse. They didn't do anything wrong. He didn't do anything wrong. And what are you supposed to say? "You didn't deserve it" what does that even do? What would make what you did hurt less? What would make up for all the horrible things you told him? What can you possibly say to make up for it? Would you even have said sorry if he HADNT saved you? Do you even know?

And then he just tells you to change. You both know sorry isn't enough. Sorry will never be enough. There is nothing you can do to take it back. You just have to be better. And you have no idea where to start. You have no idea what being a good person even means. And you have to live with knowing somewhere out there there's a complete stranger who will always remember how you treated him, and who decided you deserved to live anyways. And you have no idea why.

So anyways how's your day going.

[brionysea]

when max is depressed we know something's wrong because lucas says with his words that he knows something's wrong but when mike is depressed we don't think anything of it because will's right next to him rolling his eyes about how stupid straight people are

[necrotic-nephilim]

How do you think bruce would react to a Robin pile situation?

oooh this is a fun thought. i think it depends *entirely* if you're working with a morally stable Bruce or a Bruce who's a little fucked up and dead dove-ish. somehow, i think it's actually more fun if it's a completely stable Bruce bc that adds so much more drama and issues if Bruce is deeply unsettled by the idea. if it was maybe just Jason and Dick or Jason and Tim dating that's sort of understandable. Bruce knows that while he may see them all as his sons (except Steph bc do know Robin pile will *always* include Steph for me and tbh Cass too as an honorary member. they're all going in the pile.) but he understands that doesn't mean they see each other as brothers. he respects the nuanced and complicated relationships scattered across all of the Batfam.

but if all of them are *dating*? or at the very least sleeping together? that raises a lot of logistical red flags. the most obvious one is the age gap of it all- at the biggest gap you have Damian and Dick who are an easy fifteen years apart, meeting when Damian is a kid. not to mention how many of them have tried to kill each other at some point. it shouldn't work and Bruce doesn't like that it does. Bruce has a history of wanting to control the relationships of the Batkids when he disapproves. and so he'd absolutely try to break them up. at first, he paints it purely as a logistical issue. saying it's smartest not to bring feelings into work and that this is dangerous. i think it's especially fun if this happens at a time when Bruce doesn't approve of Steph or Jason so that *also* plays into it, he doesn't want either of them near the ones he currently considers to be his family. he says he wants to protect them and wants to keep them safe. he tries to appeal to who he thinks would be more logical and listen to him the most. first Dick, and then when that doesn't work, Tim. and when neither of them listen, i *do* think Bruce would stoop to the low of trying to break them up by fabricating internal conflict between them, hoping to divide and conquer the weird polycule it's become.

while i don't think Bruce would be jealous in the sense he wants to be included, i *do* think he's wildly dislike the Robins having this close bond that makes them trust each other implicitly more than they trust Bruce. they will defer to each other before him and clearly keep things from him. he'd despise that. it's an inner circle he's not let in on and it makes him lose aspects of control over some of them, especially Damian who's the youngest and his son, who Bruce deserves the most control over. he would drive himself mad about it. at first for genuine reasons over the perceived fucked up nature of the relationship (even when each of them have confirmed that it is entirely consensual and they're happy) and to protect them. but he becomes so bitter over being ignored. they openly prioritize each other over him when the truth comes out because they see no point in hiding it. and i could definitely see Jason gloating about how he's back in the family whether Bruce likes it or not. Bruce would be beyond pissed about it. he's just never recovering. trying to stop them gets nowhere, even if he manages to cause some internal conflict.

eventually, Bruce would be forced to accept it for fear he would lose all of them. but he's *not* going to be happy about it and he keeps making side comments, hoping to get through to one of them eventually. it doesn't work, but he's definitely not going to stop trying. i also think on some level it would just disgust him a little bit in a visceral way, since they're his kids to him and he doesn't like to picture them in that way. esp when Jason or Steph lean heavily into PDA just to fuck with him. ass grabs, cuddling, sloppy kisses, the whole nine yards. Bruce will not have a moment of peace.

[wildsaltair]

every single day I think about the fact that Maximus Decimus Meridius would absolutely love to love and to be loved. how he would work all day in the fields looking forward to coming through the door and taking you in his arms and seeing how excited you are to see him. how he would never miss an opportunity to kiss you or say how much he loves you. how he would melt every time you touched him gently. how he would crave alone time with you and smile every time he wakes up and finds you beside him. how he would pour his heart and soul into love because it’s what he lives for

[teddybeartoji]

sorry if i'm not that good of a writer, but i'm so obsessed with toji rn and the idea of a married toji that doesn't care anymore about surviving as he's safe and secure with m!reader. a roof over his head, warm food and something he's not used to, unconditional love. he's growing soft in all the sense of the word, like an overfed house cat. toji was insecure at first, something weird in him as he's not used to all of this, but reader was obsessed to see how this dream of a man is now chubby, not a dad bod, chubby and m!reader loves it, m!reader got his own personal weighed blanket.

bonus points if this is with omega toji. (but, i don't have any idea what to add here, besides the idea of pups and mama bear toji)

NONNIEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACEE!!!!! I LOVEEE LOVE LOVE CHUBBY BIG LAZY CAT TOJI HE DESERVES TO JUST LAZE AT HOME ON HIS COUCH ALL DAY LONG:((((((((((((( and this with a male reader too???? wooowwwwwwww my heart is gonna melt away i think what have you done to me nonnie.... i think he makes a very good malewife btw like he's home all day long while you're at work and he finds cleaning to be a very relaxing task so he's glad to do it for you. i'm literally imagining him walking around with the vacuum while sipping his coffee every once in a while, his eyes on the tv where some old rerun of a show is playing. he just loves staying at home he really truly is the perfect housecat!!!!!!!!!!!

and i think he cooks surprisingly well too. and he loves to eat. and he loves to watch you eat. so nothing brings him more joy than to welcome you home with open arms and then just immediately sit you down at the dinner table so he can gaze at you like some lovesick fool as you chomp down the meal. he gets really soft okay... the second he lets you into his heart he's a changed man and i mean that in the best way possible. it definitely takes some time but it's so so worth it bc he's gonna take care of you AND he's gonna let you take care of him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and the weighted blanket thing oh my godddd after you eat he guides you to the couch so you can talk abt your day while the two of you cuddle and it's the cutest fucking thing ever like this big ass grown man is just almost entirely on top of you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while you ramble his ears off. he loves it sm!!!!!!!!!!!

+ oh he would absolutely love to be the mama bear i don't care what anybody else says. he loves his kids sm and he wants all the best for them,, he's building them their own little playgrounds in your garden he's having teaparties with them he's doing disney movie marathons with them he's a grump and he's the biggest softie at the same time.

[rivilu]

One side effect of the autistic sense of justice for me is going insane over justice and vengeance as concepts in themselves whenever applicable in media.

Which unfortunately means that thinking about justice dragon age for too long (especially with the post inq takes on spirits) makes me want to rip my hair out.

[maegalkarven]

Family matters.

m!(trans)Dark Urge x Enver Gortash.

Brainworms finally got to me, I caved in and wrote a oneshot on the topic of "but what if Durge and Gortash had a child prior to all that mess"

Featuring my Dark Urge Levi, pre- and post- memory loss.

There was a living, breathing infant child in his arms; and for the first time in a long while Lord Enver Gortash was in complete loss at what to do.

“What is it?” fell rather flat down, a poor excuse of a question.

Leviathan rolled his eyes.

“A meaty flesh of some newly created life,” he huffed, visibly annoyed. “Also known as a child. I assume you’ve met their kind?”

Enver felt anger rise alongside with deeply rooted annoyance. Whatever spectacle the bhaalspawn decided to partake in, now was not the time for that. Neither it was the time for his witty itty remarks.

“I am well aware it’s a child,” he argued back just as sullenly, the said child held loosely in his arms. In his arms. Why was there a child in his arms? They were not made for holding babies.

“I’m asking why is it a child and why is it here. The questions any sane person in my place would indulge in.”

There was something...off about the bhaalspawn.

Not only Enver hadn’t seen the man for almost the entity of a year, an assassin always claiming some task of utmost importance, but now he decided to pop out of the thin air with a live child in a tow and immediately push said child into his, Enver Gortash’s, not so open arms.

It was alarming, to say the least.

“Oh, that,” Levi waved him off like it was a casual annoyance and not a conversation two adults, so-conspirers - partners - had. Like Gortash imposed himself into his free time and personal space and not the other way around. “It’s yours.”

It’s what?

“Or at least I assume it’s yours,” Leviathan followed as Enver’s thoughts came to a rapid halt. “Since I haven’t touched anyone alive but you in a long time. And look where it led me,” the look of pure disdain was all the child was getting, it seemed. “A freshly made meaty cage for a new soul. Disgusting. You’d think Father would make this shit stop and would not allow a child of banite to be born, but I guess any bhaalspawn is a good little pawn under his merciful gaze. Anyway,” a wild, excusing gesture of a hand. “I don’t have any use for this...thing. Sceleritas suggested to bring it into the fold and let my men do all the work, but well, the bother. So you can take it instead,” a winning smile what would work wonders if not for the whole absurdity of the situation Gortash just found himself in. “Think of it as of a gift. A proof of my loyalty to our cause, hm?”

Sometimes the bastard was more annoying than he was charming and his presence took a toll on the man.

Sometimes Enver wanted nothing more than to break Levi’s pretty slender neck.

That was one of these times.

“And what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Oh, whatever you want,” another wide, generous gesture. This asshole truly thought of that...child as if of a gift to be given away, didn’t he?

Enver shouldn’t have been surprised, not really, he knew Leviathan’s stance on children.

“Taste good, not much of use when alive, it’s funny when they die first” – was as good of a take as one could expect from the leader of the Cult of Murder.

“You can throw it away or feed it to the dogs. You can raise it or give it to a hag or even sell it to the devil,” another smile that’s more malicious than anything else. “I don't really care, if I'm being honest.”

Unfortunately, killing a bhaalspawn when you were holding just another bhaalspawn would prove to be close to impossible.

It would have to wait, and Leviathan Anchev still had his uses, bratty as he was.

And his appeal, as deadly as that ordeal proved to be. Or how complicated.

A child, huh? Well, Enver supposed every ruler needed an heir.

“Bring me the wizard,” was the first order out of his mouth when bhaalspawn left. The child was safely given into the care of the first competent older servant, who looked just as bewildered as Gortash himself felt. “Tell him to scan the...the-“

“The boy, my lord.”

“Right, tell the mage to scan the boy’s heritage. Let’s find who his parents are, shall we?”

Trusting a psycho murderer was an awful idea even at the safest of times, and now were not those. Levi would lie just to fuck with Enver. Levi had to lie, because there was no way this infant boy was actually his, Enver’s, flesh and blood.

***

Leviathan Anchev did not lie.

***

Levi moved away to sprawl his body across the bed, the creature of leisure he was. He sniffed the air and then wrinkled his nose, closer to an animal than any other person Gortash has ever known. More appealing in that, in his beast-like fluid grace.

“You still have this thing around,” the man commented, frowning. “Why? Playing the dollhouse? How...quant.”

“This thing has a name,” Enver couldn’t not parry. “Noah.”

Leviathan groaned.

“Oh, spare me the details; I want nothing to do with that flesh meat. Having to carry it inside my body for almost a year was a bother enough. Almost cut it out myself on multiple occasions, but Sceleritas insisted the internal damage I’d deal would be too great to handle. Idiot.” A moment of a thoughtful pause.

“You know what my destiny is, right?”

A searching gaze, reaching hands, clawed fingers cupping Enver’s cheeks almost gently. Something changed between them some time ago, but what it was Lord Gortash could not pinpoint. 

Yet something...Shifted.

Levi searching his face for some kind of acknowledgement was a sign of this.

Leviathan Anchev Enver first met would not care less about his approval. Leviathan Anchev of now was Enver’s nearest and dearest and it was pretty much a mutual kind of thing.

“I know.”

To kill everyone in the world and then himself. In Bhaal’s name. A gruesome fate, and pointless. Dull, lacking of any grandiose his, Enver’s, path had.

If only he could break off this deadly conviction in his dear ally, if only there was a way to make him stray out of this path...

They could be good for each other. They could rule together as the gods of the new age; glorious, undefeatable, perfect.

The rulers Toriel truly deserved.

“Then you know I’ll have to kill this...thing,” a moment of barely noticeable hesitation. “This... Noah.”

Enver also knew he would rather see his lover bleed on the altar of his dreadful father than let it happen.

“I do.”

“I,” another uncertain pause. “I was planning to leave you for last. To kill you and myself in one final blow; a perfect tribute to Father. But,” and really, those damn pauses were starting to get on Enver’s nerves. Levi was never short of words before, so what in the nine hells had happened? “Would you rather prefer I’d do you and...Noah... together? To kill you two in one blow?”

Ah.

Enver saw it for what it was, in the uncertain, searching gaze of his unlucky lover, in the carefulness with which he produced words.

Something warm flooded out the irritation from before; something warm and soft and entirely fragile.

It was mercy, the only kind of mercy the bhaalspawn could know. Leviathan Anchev, the man fully capable of destroying everyone and everything on his wake, offered him a tiny piece of his own surrender. A confirmation of his affections, almost a confession.

In some ways he did care.

“That would be very considerate of you, yes,” he agreed, bringing bhaalspawn close. His bhaalspawn, his ally, his lover. The father of his son.

If there was a way of bringing Bhaal down without bringing Levi with him, Enver would find and utilize it. Otherwise he’d have to kill the best partner in crime he has ever had.

And that would be...unfortunate.

Levi leaned into the touch, soft and gentle in a way he has never been before; almost fragile.

Trusting.

“Does it...know about me?” came out in a whisper, almost unbidden.

“He knows you exist,” was all the response Enver could give, enveloping his assassin into his arms, holding him closely, firmly, painfully so.

The bhaalspawn squirmed for a moment before finally settling in.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “I didn’t think you would...What you would tell him I do. Exist, I mean. I’d expect you’d spin a tale of some tragically dead wife or-“

“There is no tragically dead wife,” Enver cut off, feeling rather irritated. A mystery of complications, his dear murderer. “Only a lunatic of a murderer for a father. Not what Noah knows that, he knows we’re working together and what you’re a very busy man.”

“Hmph,” Levi’s breath brushed Enver’s neck. “I guess that is true.”

“Do you want to,” and now it was his time to be a hesitant bother. “Meet him?

At that Leviathan actually laughed.

“Oh, absolutely not, keep him and that strange dollhouse of yours as far away from me as possible. I have things to do, people to kill, empires to rule. I don’t have time for meat-things, of my own creation or not.”

And just like that, it was as if nothing has changed.

***

The alarm goes off the moment Karlach finishes the last of the Hands and flies into a wall by the force of the explosive detonating right into her face.

Enver doesn’t stop to register that, or to look around at the bodies of his faithful, to mourn his perfectly constructed plans – his watch, the Iron Throne, the little fireworks shop – because the alarm in Noah’s private chambers went off and it only means one thing.

Intruders.

He skips one step at the time climbing up the steep steps to the higher, more private level.

Could that be the remaining of Orin’s assassins?

Levi said he dispatched of them all, but surely some had to survive by the sheer luck of not being in the temple at the moment. Are those Ravengard’s forces, Florrick’s?

Is it Leviathan, finally coming to sniff out the life he himself created?

He is vaguely aware of the younger Ravengard and the pale elf taking the chase after him, of Karlach joining in.

They think he is escaping.

Idiots.

Enver tries not to think what he is leading the enemies right to his son; he’ll deal with them later. Right now there’s blazing alarm shrieking what something is wrong – and indeed it is, as he discovers with the first body lying dead on the floor. Then the second. Then the third.

All of them – with their throats ripped open, Leviathan’s favorite style.

Enver turns the corner and reaches for the door handle – the door is unlocked and half open: this is bad, bad, bad-

Then he hears a laughter and pauses.

He opens the door slowly and carefully instead of throwing it open as he intended at first.

And sees...

Levi is sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning slightly forward.

Across of him, sitting in the exact same – ridiculous – pose sits the boy not older than five. He has a dark messy hair, blazing green eyes what betray his nature, and the new game Gortash brought to him just recently. He is trying to explain the rules to the tiefling in front of him, who listens attentively, nodding here and there.

“Wow,” Leviathan Anchev comments with an air of nonchalance he didn’t have before. “I did not understand a thing. But good for you, lil one, good for you.”

“It’s really not that difficult,” Noah insists. “I can teach you! We can play together.”

Enver steps closer, somehow is still not detected neither by his son nor by his...his what?

Karlach almost crashes into the doorframe after him, but somehow manages to steady herself, takes in the view in front of her – and freezes.

So do the other two of Levi’s unruly companions. Gortash especially doesn’t like the pale one; he has a habit of sticking way closer to the bhaalspawn than it is proper.

“I am not that good at these kinds of games,” Levi admits as his tail flips from side to side and nostrils flare; he has detected him. Probably smelled before sensing. “But I have a friend with a real knack for them. He is a wizard and knows a lot of fun things; I think you’d get along.”

Noah looks uncertain.

“Are you sure?” he looks down. “I don’t think...I’m not allowed outside.”

“Really? And why is that?”

“Well,” the boy fidgets with his game. “Father says people who oppose him would try to use me against him, if they knew I existed. So I am kind of...a secret? It’s for my own safety!” he immediately adds, seeing Leviathan’s face blank out. “There’s a murderer on the loose, she really doesn’t like father despite supposedly working with him. Father says she will kill me if she finds out I exist.”

“Oh,” Levi looks taken aback at that. “I don’t think you need to worry about that anymore. If you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about, then she has been dealt with already.”

“Oh!” Noah brightens. “By whom?”

“By me. But say,” the spawn looks quizzically at the child in front of him, frowning slightly. “Is it just your father and you? Where’s your mother?”

“I don’t have one,” and this is definitely the moment then Enver needs to intervene, but he is just...frozen in place, turned to stone.

Leviathan Anchev he knew hated children.

This Leviathan Anchev is talking to a child as it was his best friend.

“I have a dad though!” Noah is a sweet fool, Enver taught him much better than telling complete strangers his entire life’s story. Stop. Talking. “He is...working a lot and is too busy to visit,” the boy looks down gloomily. “But! He and father are very close; they even stole from the devil together!”

Levi blinks. Then blinks once more. Then again.

“The devil, you say?” and is it just Gortash’s imagination, but did the man’s voice just rise up an octave?

“Yes! And not just any devil, the achdevil Mephistopheles!” Noah looks so absurdly proud of that it hurts. “They snuck right into his home, stole a crown from his vault and returned here. Unspotted, unstopped. Victorious.”

“What the fuck?” Karlach lets out and both the boy and the bhaalspawn who created him turn to the door.

Noah’s face immediately brightens.

“Father!” he exclaims, hastily getting to his feet and rushing to him. Behind the boy Levi gives the man the most bewildered stare he has ever seen.

“You have a child!” young Ravengard speaks out with the accusation in his voice. Enver really isn’t sure whom the man is addressing.

Noah is unperturbed.

“Father, I met a really cool guy, his name is Levi and he must be your friend because he came here with no problem at all; and he has children at his camp, two girls named Yenna and Arabella. Arabella is a druid because she stole the idol of Sylvanus and it gave her powers, and Yenna has a cat! But the cat is anxious so I shouldn’t pet it, but I can look at it! Please, can I look at Yenna’s cat? Levi said the evil murderer is dealt with, so it’s probably safe. And Levi can guard me if needed. Also there’s a vampire spawn in his camp and-“

The pale elf coughs.

“Hello there,” he tries, pulling a not entirely convincing smile up his lips. “A vampire spawn speaking. And you would be...”

“I am Noah!” says Noah right away; and did Enver shelter him too much? Damn, he has sheltered him too much. Look at the boy, he wants to befriend a vampire spawn. “I’m the son of the Archduke! Hello.”

“Yes, hi,” the elf looks at Levi uncertainly and back. “So...”

“So,” the bhaalspawn steps forward, the bewildered look stuck to his face. He crouches down to Noah’s level and takes his hands into his calloused and clawed ones. “So Noah...Your dad is the man who helped your father to steal the crown from the devil, is that right?”

Noah nods vigorously and Enver takes his time to observe the scene; the two bhaalspawns in front of each other, Levi’s posture, his relaxed shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The tail that seems to have a life on its own and moves agitatedly behind its owner.

Three companions of the bhaalspawn, all somewhat stuck in place, with different levels of surprise stitched up their faces. The pale elf – a step closer, almost lingering at Leviathan’s side. Annoying.

Yet somehow, no matter how hard Gortash looks at it, he doesn’t sense any danger. Doesn’t see it, even with Karlach still aflame by the doorframe.

“Yep,” Noah agrees eagerly. “I wish he’d come to meet me soon. He will come, right? Once the work is done and all,” the boy sighs. “I mean, I am his son, surely he would care to come to meet me.”

“Um,” the tiefing looks uncertain. “And what if...something happened to him? What if he, say, lost his memories?”

“How? Did something hit him in the head?”

The vampire spawn chokes on a laugh and Levi rolls his eyes at him.

“Sure,” he agrees. “Let’s call it that. So...what if he doesn’t...exactly remember having you?”

“You mean if he’s lost and doesn’t know he needs to come back?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I guess I’d come looking for him. He is my other father. It’s important.”

The force of conviction behind these words hits harder than a thunderwave.

Leviathan blinks hard, clears his throat, and then-

“You...don’t have to. I don’t remember much about my life before...certain events, but it was made adamantly clear to me I was the one to break into the Mephistopheles’ vault with your father. And if your dad is who did that, then,” he stops. “Then I guess- Enver, are you really just going to stand here like a fucking statue? Tell me if this is what I think it is or not.”

“You swore!”

“No, the fuck, I did not. Enver-“

“Now you swore twice!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake-“

“So,” Gortash steps forward, a lazy smile dancing on his lips. Gods only know how much this smile costs him. “You have known your son for the entirety of twenty minutes and already taught him a swear word. Really impressive.”

“Father?”

“Oh, listen here, you poignant prick-“

This, Enver thinks, is what family feels like.