#he had his chance for redemption and I'm so glad he took it

[notyourhetloki]

Ken with a gn doll!reader love interest

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Guess who's obsessed lol anyway... This is NOT spoiler free! In fact, this is set AFTER the movie! I gave Ken a redemption arc because I think he'd be willing to better himself so here you go...

Word Count: 1348

—

How it started:

You were hanging out with Allan at the beach when suddenly Ken approached you, waving and smiling as he spoke: “Hey Allan! Hey (Y/N)! Wanna play volleyball?”

Allan glanced nervously at you before you two agreed, following Ken through the sand.

The game was fun but you were losing, that is until you had the chance to score, jumping up in the air and striking the ball with full force… hitting Ken right in his face.

He dramatically fell back, face covered with his hands while groaning. You quickly ran to him, kneeling on the sand and patting his shoulder. “Ken! Are you okay??”

He revealed his face, slowly blinking while examining you. You worried he was mad... you were new in Barbieland and didn’t want to make any enemies. What if he hated you?

“That… was… AWESOME. How did you learn to plunge like that??” Ken gave you a big smile, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

How it went:

You had been hanging out with Ken a lot lately, spending time at the beach or at your Dream House (all dolls had their own house now, including Kens). He even invited you to his Mojo Dojo Casa House (yes he still called it that) to watch some movies, and you gladly accepted.

He was nice to be around, always glad to help with whatever you needed and always excited for your next activity together. He was goofy and made you laugh, which made him feel good about himself.

And because the way to his heart was through his ego, you two became best friends as soon as you started complimenting him. He even admired you back, making you feel all fuzzy inside.

Ken was ridiculously charming, and you felt yourself falling harder with each moment you spent side by side. But, you had to remind yourself you were not Barbie, and he was Ken... He couldn't possibly be interested in you... right?

Besides, you knew he had a lot to learn yet. After the incident with Kendom and the whole patriarchy thing, he started studying sociology and began a journey to better himself, and you were happy to be there to help.

You reminded him of his daily mantras ("I'm kenough") and accompanied him every time he visited the library for more books. Ken cringed while you reminded him about the past. “At least you apologized to Barbie, right?”

“…”

“RIGHT?”

And just like that the two of you were on an adventure to the Real World, for Ken had a very important mission.

—

You had never been on rollerblades before, so as you arrived at the Real World, you started to wobble. Luckily, Ken caught your hand and continued to hold it, helping you balance. You felt heat rising to your cheeks, blushing at the unexpected touch and intimacy. (Unbeknownst to you, Ken was blushing hard as well, trying not to think much of it. You were just friends, right? This was normal… right?)

You both found Barbie, and you were proud to hear Ken’s apology as he spoke. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, Barbie. For trying to install patriarchy in Barbieland, for stealing your house, for all of it! You don’t need to accept my apologies, but I just needed you to know that I’m trying to better myself every day, and (Y/N) is helping me with that!” While Ken looked ashamed, Barbara looked shocked.

In the end, she accepted his apologies and smiled at you as you waved your goodbyes.

Ken felt immense relief and happiness now that he took this new step in his self-growth journey. He was so happy in fact, that he felt like holding your hand again. You both looked at each other and smiled, hearts racing and faces blushing.

—

You were in his Mojo Dojo Casa House, chatting and giggling like teenagers. Ken started asking about you, very interested in everything you had to say. He was fascinated and wanted to know more about you, and soon he caught himself asking more intimate things. “So… do you have a girlfriend? Or… a boyfriend? I mean… I don’t know, are you even into Kens? I mean…” he stuttered as you laughed.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend… in fact, I never had a significant other before…”

Ken’s blue eyes grew wide, mouth slightly agape as he slid closer to you. “Oh… really?”

“I mean… I’m not a Barbie, not a Ken… not sure I’m even supposed to have someone.” You suddenly grew a little sad at that, being so vulnerable with Ken all of a sudden.

You looked down in shame, but Ken quickly lifted your chin up so you looked at him. His expression was fond, eyes roaming through your face and finally landing on your lips. He grew closer and for a moment you actually thought he would kiss you.

But he didn’t, he stopped and moved back, suddenly a bit confused and anxious. “Ha… I’m… I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually…” he said with an awkward smile.

How it ended:

Ken was desperate when he asked Allan for help. He was so confused, so… eager. He had never felt this way before, not even with Barbie. You were different, you listened to him, inspired him to become a better person, spent your valued time with him and you two had so much fun together! He felt genuinely happy around you, and in the last times you hung around, he felt the deepest urge to kiss you. This desire had been growing the more he tried pushing it away, so he decided to ask for help.

“I mean… (Y/N) is not a Barbie, and I’m Ken! It doesn’t make sense, right?”

Allan looked at him with slight confusion as he responded. “I mean… there are truly no rules, it’s not like there’s a book written somewhere that Kens should only date Barbies.”

Ken was left starstruck because I mean, Allan was right. There are no such rules in Barbieland, that was just something everyone assumed one day. “Thank you, Allan!” He hugged his friend before heading out.

—

Ken invited you on a beach date night and you happily agreed. You two sat on the sand as you watched the waves, but he only had eyes for you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You wondered about the sea and the stars. “Yeah…” he answered, not looking at them.

Slowly, Ken moved his fingers to touch yours, and while turning your head to look at him, you let your hands completely meet.

Your heart beat fast as he smiled that gorgeous smile of his, cheeks rosy and eyes glowing blue as he finally spoke. “(Y/N)… can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Ken.” You smiled in anticipation.

He looked down, doubting himself a bit before looking up again and almost whispering. “Can I kiss you?”

At that moment everything made sense, and you couldn’t help the big smile on your face as you spoke. “Of course!”

He matched your smile and squeezed your hand in excitement before turning away a bit and fist-pumping the air, then turning back with a more collected expression on his face.

Ken stared at your mouth before leaning in, and you leaned as well. Slowly, you met in the middle and finally kissed. Gentle, he grinned against your lips.

The first kiss was quick, but as you stopped and looked into each other’s eyes, he came back crushing onto your mouth, not wanting to be separate anymore. Ken took your face into his hands and you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

You both needed to breathe eventually, so you parted. You took the opportunity to ask a very important question. “Ken? Would you…would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Ken gasped, his eyes growing wide and teary as he held your hands in his. “That would be the coolest thing to ever happen to me… yes!”

The two of you hugged tight, and for the first time in forever, everything felt just right.

—

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

redemption : short dress. l Javier Peña

❤️‍ broken hearts seek redemption ❤️‍

Summary:  you didn't dress for him

Warnings:  a little bit of angst, but mainly fluff, some kissing, some bad words

A/N: I don't like leaving them like this. something like a mini series, not necessarily good and nice stories. scribbles. I hope that despite everything you will stay with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

first part is here >>short dress <<

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

broken hearts seek redemption [masterlist]

"Someone's waiting for me."

The security guard pointed to a woman standing with her back to you and looking at the information posted on the wall in the lobby. You approached her quickly.

"Ma'am." you greeted, and the words suddenly got stuck in your throat.

Ana looked at you with a soft smile.

"Good morning." Your name flowed from her lips in joyful excitement. "I'm so glad you found time for me."

"Sure. What brings you here?" you asked nervously, clenching your fingers around the files you had with you. "Javier should be..."

"In the office, I know." she interrupted you, waving her hand carelessly. "He's been sitting there for weeks."

Your gaze slid down her shapely body and stopped at one much more noticeable spot. Her rounded belly stood out clearly under her loose dress. You felt as if someone had thrown a heavy stone into your stomach.

"I came to see you, I wanted to thank you."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, but… I don't think I understand."

"Marco. Marco Martínez." Ana didn't care about your words. "You made sure Javi questioned him, and then you helped him get out of town. Thank you."

"Oh, is that your family?"

"His my fiancé." Ana's gentle hand stroked her tummy. "We're about to welcome our first child. Thanks to you, and Javi, we have a chance to start over." Her hands quickly grabbed yours and squeezed them tightly. "Javi said he could always count on you. Thank you. You did so much for us!"

"It's nothing, really." You smiled nervously. "So you and Javier..."

Ana laughed quietly. "Oh, we haven't seen each other for a long time! He met some woman, fell in love, and now his heart is broken… I told him that if he didn't take care of her and be honest, this is how it would end. Poor boy." 

She shrugged as if that meant she expected it. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

"I have to go now." Ana glanced at her watch. "My cousin promised to take me to Marco. I just wanted to thank you." She squeezed your hand once more and hurried out of the building.

You felt as if you had suddenly lost ground under your feet. You hadn't talked to Javi in ​​months. After your fight, he tried to meet up with you a few times, he even came to your office, but you avoided him like the plague. In the end, he gave in.

But that didn't stop you from thinking about him. After the resentment came anger, then sadness and... longing. You missed him, but you didn't want to admit it. Only anger at Javier kept you away from him.

Ana destroyed that fortress, though. 

Thoughts were swirling in your head for the rest of the day. The pangs of conscience about Javier were getting stronger and stronger. You knew that your reaction was appropriate for what you saw, but you didn't let Javier have a say, he couldn't defend himself.

He might have been an asshole, but you knew that he always tried to be fair to you. With better or worse results.

So you decided to listen to Ana and right after work your legs took you to his office. You passed by more rooms, empty or almost empty, people wanted to go back to their homes, except for one of them.

He was sitting at his desk, wrapped in cigarette smoke, tapping away at the typewriter, his brows furrowed with concentration. The light blue shirt was tight on his broad shoulders. You saw him ruffle his hair with his hand and flick the cigarette into the ashtray standing on the desk.

"A lot of work?" you said, and Javier immediately looked up in your direction, "Hi."

"Hi. I wasn't expecting you." he replied, getting up from his chair and putting out his cigarette.

You walked a little closer to him. "I wasn't planning on coming, but... I talked to Ana today."

Javier nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched you carefully. He missed your voice so much, not to mention the sight of you. And now you stood before him, visibly confused, but more beautiful than Javier remembered you. His heart was beating like crazy.

"I think you deserve an apology." you continued with difficulty maintaining eye contact with him, Javier tilted his head searching for your eyes with his "When I saw you and Ana, I fell into despair... Shit! I was jealous of you. And I felt totally insecure... She was always so beautiful... I was sad and angry, I wanted revenge. I turned off my thoughts, I focused only on this regret I felt inside. I should have talked to you..."

"Hermosa..." this sweet nickname flowed from his lips so naturally, he missed it "I completely understand you. I'm an asshole..."

"Javier, please..."

"No! I'm serious. I was an asshole, but when I met you..." he took a deep breath "Fuck! You made me want to change, for you. For us. If I had been completely honest with you, if I had trusted you... It wouldn't have happened."

"If I had let you speak then..." you added, and he smiled slightly.

"I think we both fucked this up." He spread his hands and shrugged. "But it's good that we cleared that up now..."

You nodded. 

You weren't sure what you should have said or done at that moment. Javier's eyes were staring at you with such intensity that you felt like you were standing completely naked in front of him. This man was your biggest weakness.

"I think I'll go now." You finally spoke. "You have a lot of work to do, I don't want to bother you any longer."

"Do you need a ride?" Javier suggested quickly.

"I thought you were doing something important."

'You're more important, hermosa.'

You smiled, Javier grabbed his jacket and slowly you both headed to the elevator. Even before the doors opened you felt his fingers timidly brush your hand.

It was like striking a match. Heat began to flow through your veins and when you entered the elevator and the doors closed behind you, you and Javier were already kissing each other fiercely, hungrily. His hands squeezed your hips tightly as he pressed you against the wall.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' You whispered, taking his face in your hands and kissing him.

'Me too. Fuck! Never again, hermosa. Never.' he panted. 'I'll never let you out of my hands again.'

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[therobotmonster]

Chosen for What?

A short tale about chosen ones.

"There it is."

Johann's voice was barely a whisper but in the unnatural silence of the forest it might as well have been a shout. The knight took a step forward, oblivious to the crunch of his footsteps on the dry leaves or the sharp, almost metallic smell of the coming snow.

His focus was entirely upon the spear. It's shaft was made of white wood, polished so smooth he had mistaken it for marble, and the bronze spearhead was shaped like a elegantly stylized shark.

It was presently stuck within the ribcage of an obscenely oversized humanlike skeleton, which was itself entangled in the gnarled roots of a tree the size of a watchtower. The giant's bones were twice the size of a man's. More remarkably, they were made of pitted, rust-flecked iron.

Johann reached forward.

"HOLD!"

Johann froze. Even though the salvation of his people was mere inches away from his outstreched hand, he dared not ignore the voice behind him. He felt the wizard's hand grip him by the shoulder.

"You know it is not meant for you." Aldara said. She squeezed hard enough for Johann to feel it through his mail shirt. He remembered her saying that wizards aged only on the outside. He had no reason to doubt her on that point.

"And who is it for?" Johann hissed under his breath. "That scum?"

The scum in question was already walking toward the spear. Galen VonZent, the cutpurse and murderer. Galen VonZent, the spoiled, cruel son of a merchant house who killed his own father and nearly bought his way to freedom. Galen VonZent, who Alex 'sacrificed himself to save.'

"Galan, take the spear. You're ready." Aldara said, her voice heavy with the import of the moment. When Galan moved to obey, she slowly pulled Johann back away from the spear, step-by-step.

The tall, golden-haired man grabbed the spear with both hands, and began slowly pulling it free of the iron skeleton. To Johann's shock and disgust, the shark-shaped spearhead bent this way and that in a swaying motion, aiding in its release.

"The gods must be insane, or cruel beyond reasoning. If that beast is their chosen one."

"You aren't incorrect." The old woman chuckled. "But why say that now? Why not when we found him?"

"I had faith the gods had chosen well, that he'd grow into the role. But since we saved him from the gallows he has done nothing but confirm that he was right to be there. He has been cruel, selfish, cowardly, and petty at every turn." Johann's voice was a barely subdued growl. "And even if you do not believe me, he murdered Alex."

"I told you to give him a chance." Aldara said. Johann braced to be lectured about some hidden goodness or potential for redemption. "I'm glad you took my advice."

"What? You agree with me?" Johann gritted his teeth. "You should have let me at least try to pull the spear free. If he can do it, I certainly can!"

"Why is a prophecy like a worm on a line?"

"Again with your riddles! I don't know!" Johann barely managed to suppress a shout. "Is that why I am unworthy? A riddle?"

Aldara sighed. She smiled in that way that made Johann think of his grandmother, and his anger faltered. She spoke, clear and gentle. "Do you think the Gods would leave something this important up to chance?"

"Obviously not, that's why the prophecy-"

She squeezed again.

"Tell me, how do you ensure that a chosen hero isn't killed before they can save the world?"

Johann glanced back at Galan. The brute had managed to free the spear halfway, and was taking a self-congratulatory break. "Whisk him away as a child to be raised in safety? Assign a wizard to watch over him? Place other heroes along the path to help him?"

"So many moving parts." The wizard laughed. "The gods can try and play us like puppets, but free will is a wildcat in a burlap sack-"

"-you can take it wherever you want until the sack tears." Johann continued the adage. "And you'll get cut along the way regardless."

"The task gets no easier by adding more cats."

"Then how?" Johann asked, somewhere between sullen and frustrated.

"If you need to make sure only someone who is worthy can take the spear, you make the spear ensure that anyone who takes it-"

The wizard paused, a wide satisfied smile on her face. It was not the smile she had worn when they were joyously feasting with the elf-folk five days into the quest. It was the smile she had worn when she made Vorn the Destroyer's blood turn to water in his veins.

Johann's gaze was thusly occupied when the sound of Galan's sharp, anguished scream ripped through the air.

"-is worthy."

Johann turned slowly. As a knight he had heard enough death rattles and screams to know that he didn't want to witness the cause Galan's banshee-like shriek.

When he finally did turn fully, his gaze did not meet a horrifying eldritch mutilation as he expected. Instead, there stood Galan, holding the spear reverently with both hands.

Though nothing outward had changed, every aspect that Johann had found lacking was now plainly there in the lines of his face and posture of his body: compassion, thoughtfulness, maturity, competence, sincerity... even hope. Everything was there behind those eyes.

Everything except Galan VonZent.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Chapter Thirteen|

The room fell silent, a thick tension filled the room as everyone looked to each other. No one knew how to respond to this, no one knew what to say. For Heaven's sake, they hardly believed it!

"A sinner? A sinner made it into Heaven?" God mutters. "Who?"

"His name is Sir. Pentious, your Heavenly Grace."

Y/n failed to hold back her gasp. Sir. Pentious? The very same who was killed in the recent extermination. The one Charlie had allowed into her hotel for the chance to be redeemed? He made it into Heaven...

The hotel, Charlie's plan, it works...

"Y/n?" Michael looks to her. "Is something wrong?" All eyes were on her now.

Y/n couldn't have been happier for Charlie. But then again, she felt not everyone would feel the same. She swallowed a lump in her throat before speaking.

"I...I did see a future where Princess Morningstar's redemption plan would work. H-However, it was a very rare possibility. This has never happened before. For a demon to enter Heaven's gate, with a clean soul. I-It's unheard of! It's impossible! I..." Y/n didn't know what to say.

Michael looked to God. "What shall we do about this?"

God took a moment to think before finally coming to a conclusion. "I would like to speak with this...Sir. Pentious, personally. Then, I will decide if further action is needed."

"You are excused." God waves his hand at the angel in the doorway.

The angel bowed their head before swiftly leaving the room.

"Y/n." God looks to her.

Y/n jumped slightly before straightening up and spoke as calmly as she could. "Yes?"

"What will become of this? That sinner, is he to be trusted?" Everyone else was wondering the exact same thing. Never since the beginning of Heaven and Hell's creation, had a demon ever pass Heaven's gates.

No demon has even gotten the chance to gaze upon the gates. And now, one has passed divine judgment. He was a demon no more. He was an angel.

Y/n closed her eyes and looked into the future. She saw Sir. Pentious doing his best to adjust to his new life. He would of course be sadden by the absence of his friends.

But he would adjust eventually. He would begin a new life here, as an angel.

However, those who knew of his past sins would not be as accepting as those who were blissfully unaware. They would not trust him. And one, would tear away his wings. Not to send him back to the pits of Hell, but to erase him from existence all together.

Lute.

Y/n knew it. There was no way Lute would ever let go of her hatred of demons.

Y/n could not let Lute kill Sir. Pentious. Not after all the hard work Charlie has done. Besides from that, Sir. Pentious obviously earned his place in Heaven.

Lute had no right to take that away from him.

And as long as Y/n could help it, Lute would never get the chance.

"Sir. Pentious will not cause any problems. However, it might be for the best to keep Lute away from him. If she were to see him, it will enrage her. She will stop at nothing to kill Sir. Pentious."

"So, Lute can't let go of her aggression either?" Michael sighed. "I'm not surprised."

"How exactly are we going keep Lute away from him? She's bound to figure out eventually." Asked Leo.

"I propose we keep Sir. Pentious away from the public eye." Said Galim. "At least, until we are sure Lute will adjust to a a new life, free from violence. Perhaps in time, she will move on and forgive."

"So be it." God nods. "Thank you all for your time, dismissed."

Michael walked Y/n home after the meeting. "I still can't believe it." Michael says. "A sinner made it into Heaven. In all my years of existence, I'd never thought I'd see the day." He looked over to Y/n, who was smiling.

"I can't believe it either. But, I'm glad it did happen. Charlie's plan really does work. A sinner can be redeemed after all." Y/n couldn't wait to tell Charlie. She'll be over the moon to know.

"It certainly is...something." Michael mutters. Y/n looks to him, her smile faltering. "You don't seem very thrilled."

"It's not that." Michael shakes his head. "It's just...Odd. Hell was created for those who did evil deeds in life. It was suppose to be forever, an eternal punishment. But for that one sinner, it seems it was only a temporary punishment."

"He's not a sinner anymore. He's proved himself worthy of his angel wings. I saw it all happen." Said Y/n. "In my visions, I mean." She quickly added. "I saw him defending his friends from the exorcists. Risking his own life, so that the people he cared about could have a chance to see another day."

Y/n's smile returned. "If that isn't a reason enough to be accepted in Heaven, then I don't know what is."

Michael smiled a bit. "Yeah. It seems that Sir. Pentious isn't so bad after all. But, I still think we should keep an eye on him. Just in case."

The two arrived at Y/n's home. Before the parted, they wished each other good night.

Y/n walked inside of her home. She couldn't wait until tonight. Y/n knew it was risky going back to Hell so soon. But she just couldn't wait any longer to tell Charlie the news.

So, she would wait until later tonight.

When night finally fell upon Heaven, Y/n excitedly hurried to her bedroom and opened a portal back to Hell.

This time she made sure to open it to Lucifer's castle. Y/n entered the portal and stepped into the long corridor of the castle's entry. She called out Lucifer's name as she made her way deeper into the castle.

Eventually she passed that same room again, the one filled to the brim with piles upon piles of ducks. The door was open just enough for her to hear the sounds of tinkering.

Y/n peaked her head in and saw Lucifer hunched over a workbench. She knocked at the door softly, as not to startle him. However, she ended up doing the complete opposite.

"Ah!" Lucifer yelped, accidently tossing up the duck he had in his hand. He turned his attention to the door just in time for it to come back down on his head, a light "squeak" coming from the duck as it did so.

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" Y/n apologized as she opened the door further. Lucifer put a hand to his chest with a wheeze. "Jeeze Y/n, you...y-you're back!" Lucifer stood, his once shaken demeanor, now bright and cheerful.

Y/n giggle as you approached him. "I'm back." She smiles. "And I have wonderful news!"

"Oh really? What is it?" Lucifer asks.

"Charlie's hotel, her plan for redeeming sinners, it works!" Y/n tells him, slightly bouncing on her heels. Lucifer's jaw nearly met the floor. "I-It does!? How do you know?"

"Sir. Pentious, the one who died defending the hotel, he made it into Heaven!"

"That's..." Lucifer was at a loss for words. "T-That's amazing! I knew my little girl could do it!"

"I can't wait to tell her!" Y/n cheers. Then Y/n's eyes caught sight of a clock on a near by wall. "Goodness, is it that late already?" It was nearly midnight. "I suppose I should wait until the morning." She laughs softly.

Lucifer looked at the clock as well. "Hm. Guess so. You think you can make it? You look really excited." He smirks.

"I'm just so happy for her." Y/n tells him. "She really wanted this, she worked so hard, and now, her dreams are coming true." Lucifer's smile soften. "I'm happy for her too. She really does deserve this. She deserves all the good life has to offer."

"Are you two getting along?" Y/n asks. Lucifer nods. "Yeah. And boy am I glad for it. I missed my little girl. In fact, I decided to move into the hotel, so we can be even closer."

"Really?" Y/n asks. "Yep. I have almost everything ready to be moved over. I'll officially moved in tomorrow. But uh, I have to admit. I'm little...nervous about this whole thing."

Y/n glanced over at a settee couch at the other side of the room. She held out her hand, Lucifer didn't hesitate to take it. "What has you so nervous?" Y/n asks as she guides him to the chair, clearing off a few ducks before sitting down.

"Well...It's been years since me and Charlie have really connected. Actually, we haven't quite been a real family for a long time. Even before Lilith...left." Lucifer says, eyes downcast. "Sure, we had good times, but, as the years went by...I became more and more distant. I wasn't even sure I was doing it until it was too late to try and fix things."

Y/n stayed quiet as Lucifer spoke, her heart breaking at the sound of sadness in his voice.

"Lilith leaving...that's what really broke me I guess. I never left this castle, I barely spoke to my daughter, I became an absolute wreck. I completely ruined my relationship with the only family I had left." Lucifer eyes glossed over with tears.

"B-But...now that Charlie is back in my life, now that we have the chance to start over and be a family again. I just don't want to mess it up, I want to be the father she deserves. And not some pathetic old looser who wastes his life away."

Y/n put her hand on his, her other reaching for Lucifer's face, gently turning his head up to look at her. "Lucifer. You're going to do just fine. I know you will, you have nothing to worry about." She says softly.

"Heh, your future vision tell you that?" Lucifer weakly laughs. Y/n shakes her head. "No. I don't need to look into the future to know that you will be alright. The fact that you want to make a change for your daughter is telling enough. You're going to do great."

Lucifer felt a few tears roll down his cheeks, he reached for Y/n and pulled her into close in an embrace. "I hope so..."

Y/n pats his back. "I know so." She whispers.

The two pulled away after a moment, Y/n looked back to the workbench. "What were you working on this time?" She asks. Lucifer shrugs. "Ah, nothing ground breaking. Just the usual."

"The usual is pretty good if you ask me." Y/n says as she picks up a duck by her foot. She holds it up, looking over it as she speaks. "I still have the one you gave me. I'm considering it my good luck charm from now on."

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. "A good luck charm?"

"Yes. It was good luck I found my way to you after all these years." Y/n says, her gaze on the duck in her hand softening. "I'm going to treasure it forever. I don't think I'll ever look at a duck again without thinking of you. Such a fitting animal, a duck. They're so cute, funny..." Y/n glances at Lucifer. "Precious."

"You talk about it like it's something spectacular." Lucifer mutters, a little flustered by her praise.

"It is." Said Y/n, putting down the duck to focus solely on him. "Lucifer, you may not believe it to be true, but you have done and can still do amazing things. I don't think you've lost your ability to create things beyond anyone's wildest imagination. I mean, you had a part in rebuilding your daughter's hotel. And it looks even better than before!"

"Y/n..."

"I mean it Lucifer. Even all this..." Y/n motions her hand to the ducks around the room. "Is telling of how imaginative you can be. You've hit a wall, sure. But you'll overcome it. Because the Lucifer I know, wouldn't let anything or anyone stop him from reaching his goals."

Lucifer was left speechless, he just stared at Y/n for a brief moment before turning his gaze away from her. "Maybe before, but...I'm not the same as I was then. That was so long ago, before I fell from Heaven, before I was trapped here and forced to watch as my gift to humanity go to waste."

Lucifer's eyes shut tightly, a slight angered expression in his features. "Seeing those sinners use that gift for the worst, day after day, for thousands and thousands of years...Hell has ruined me for the worst. I'm not the same Lucifer you knew when we were young."

"Can you honestly look at me, and say I haven't changed?" His eyes opened, only to reveal deep red eyes looking into her own. Y/n once remembered a time he had the most beautiful sapphire eyes that twinkled when the light hit them just right.

"I can." Y/n says simply.

But ruby eyes were just as beautiful, and they shined just as bright.

"Hell has changed you physically, yes." Y/n's hands find his once again, she held them tightly but gently. "You may take on as many forms as you can, but it's still you. In your heart, you are still the fantastic dreamer I knew from day one."

"Y-You really believe that?" Lucifer's voice cracked. Y/n moves one hand to his cheek, pulling him in until her forehead meets his gently, her eyes coming to a close. "I know that." She tells him.

Lucifer eyes fluttered close as well, his shoulders went limp. "Y/n...I don't know how I lived as long as I have without you."

A pained smile grew on Y/n's face. "You could say the same for me."

Y/n would have given anything to see him just one more time, even if for a second. It killed her to know he was gone, but it hurt worse to know, that even thought he was right here...

He was still so far away.

And Lucifer felt the exact same way for her. Here you were, right in front of him, and yet, it would not last. Soon you would be gone, back in Heaven where you belonged.

Worlds apart, the two would yearn for each other's presence each and very miniscule moment of their lives.

But right now, he had her. And he would make the most of it.

"Do you have somewhere to be tomorrow?" Lucifer asks, backing away from her slightly. Y/n shakes her head. "No, there isn't any meetings in the morning. Why do you ask?"

"Well I...wait. Meetings?" Lucifer asks.

"Oh uh, yeah. I'm apart of God's council now." Y/n laughs lightly. Lucifer's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what I looked like when I was asked to join." Y/n mutters. "Anyway, what were you asking?"

"O-Oh uh, just wondering if you wanted to stay the night. It's late and you're more than welcomed here. I-I mean, I know it would take nothing to just portal back to Heaven b-but I-"

"Lucifer?"

"Y-Yes?"

Y/n's smile soften. "I'd love to."

Tags-

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[sundae--fundae]

I wrote a little (and by that I mean 926 words) blurb about Trophy apologizing to Knife because I'm trying to make the effort to give him a redemption arc of my own so uhh. Have this!

Trophy apologizes to Knife and has a very bad time about it

Trophy bounced his leg impatiently.

It felt like torture, having his thoughts race through his head as he stared at the ground. What should he say? What could he say? It felt like nothing he could say would make it better.

Knife hated him, and for good reason. Trophy was an ass to him after all. Seeing Knife die to save Marshmallow forced him into that harsh reality. Knife was more than just a jerk; he had a heart. That's why Trophy found himself sitting in the foyer of the purgatory mansion, leg bouncing impatiently while Suitcase talked to Knife.

Trophy could faintly hear hushed arguing through the wall- "-should give him a chance!" "Fucking asshole-!!" "-Could give you closure-" and other things like that. After what felt like eternity, Suitcase came out and motioned for Trophy to go into the room.

"Listen," Suitcase started. "I don't know why you had a sudden change of heart, but. I'm glad you did. If you hurt him though, I will find you." She said, before walking away.

Trophy shuddered at the thought. No way was he going to chance pissing off Suitcase, he SAW what she did to Cobs. He'd rather not end up as tiny metal scraps on the ground, thanks.

Trophy stood infront of Knife's room, trying to calm his breathing. Why the hell was he sweating so much God. This sucked. This sucked BADLY. Maybe he should just leave, or- or just run or-

"Are you gonna come in or are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?" Knife's voice came through the door with an agitated shout.

"R-right, yeah I'm coming." Trophy stuttered, fumbling with the door handle as he nervously walked in. Upon entering the room, Trophy looked around, eyes locking on the ghastly figure of Knife. The other object was a translucent grey, his eyes hollow and dead as he floated ominously by the window. Knife's ghastly tail waved behind him as he crossed his arms, visibly annoyed with the intrusion of the other.

'This was a mistake,' Trophy thought, sweating as he watched the other's eyes pierce through his very soul. The ghost's stern, angry gaze rocked him to his core, and Trophy found himself frozen in place, feeling unable to move.

"Well? Are you gonna stand there and gawk or are you gonna sit." Knife's sharp voice cut through the silence.

"Uh. Right yeah." Trophy mumbled, taking a seat on one of the vintage chairs as a cloud of dust sent him into a small coughing fit. When the dust settled again, Trophy looked up at Knife. He took a moment, mouth opening and closing as he searched for the words to say like a fish searching for water before Knife interrupted him.

"You know you've got some nerve. Showing up here. You pity me don't you?" Knife sneered, glaring at the golden object.

"What? N-no I-"

"Oh so your guilt is just eating you away so you HAAAD to come see me? To free your conscience?" Knife interrupted, rage seeping into his voice. "Because my memory is suuuuch an inconvenience to you-"

"Look I'm sorry!!! I'm sorry ok?" Trophy blurted out, looking down in shame. "I'm sorry. I was. A dick to you. I shouldn't have black mailed you, or forced you to do manual labor, or hurt you, or any of that shit ok? I was an ass, and you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve any of it, and I took advantage of you because I could. I shouldn't have, and I just. Wanted you to know that I regret it."

Knife floated there, a look of genuine shock on his face. Trophy shrunk back into the chair, wishing he could sink into the floor instead as he curled in from the vulnerability. It was difficult for him to say this, especially to admit he was wrong... but Knife deserved it.

After a moment of tense silence, Knife spoke up. "Wow," He said in disbelief. "I really didn't think I'd see the day. Guess my death really DID impact you huh?" Knife chuckled. "It sucks doesn't it? Realizing just how shitty you were."

Trophy shrunk back farther, not making eye contact. God he wished he was anywhere else, but he needed to do this. He had to.

"I get it. I felt like this about Marshmallow. It, sucks. To know you hurt someone so badly. Even if you meant it back then, you realize that you shouldn't have going forward." The ghost paused, staring down at the ground. "Listen I- Don't know if I can forgive you. Not now at least. But I appreciate your apology. Really. I can tell you mean it."

Trophy looked up, staring into Knife's dead eyes. A spark of life flashed in those hollow sockets, and for a moment, it was almost like he was alive again.

"Um. I know it's not, an apology, but if you'd like I can. Start visiting you with some of my pictures. Or whatever." Trophy offered, looking away with his arms crossed.

With a smirk and a chuckle, Knife answered, "yeah. I'd like that."

After a few more moments of brief silence, Trophy and Knife nodded, before Trophy stood up, and went to leave.

"Hey Knife?" He said over his shoulder, peering back at him through the door.

"Yea Trophy?"

"I, do like your dolls. It's a good hobby."

With that, Trophy left quickly, hustling out the mansion as his face warmed up from embarrassment. Maybe Knife was right. Maybe he really could get better.

[animentality]

Tavtash leaves such a sour taste in my mouth. Like they could have had durgetash but they were too set on playing a manic pixie dream girl who is super sweet and lovely except that oh yeah she's fucking a mass murderer and a slaver

You know what's really funny to me?

I wrote a 5000 word rant about disliking Tavtash, and I think Tavs in general ruined the story of Baldur's Gate, but then I deleted it. Because people here just want me to fuel their Durgetash/Gortash thirst by making the funnies and the angsties.

They don't care to read things that challenge their viewpoints, offer a strong negative opinion, or encourage them to think critically.

And I know people wouldn't agree with it. Ultimately, that's why I delete a lot of rants. I come here so people can stroke my ego. I don't generally come here to start fights, because that simply bores me.

So it's just comedic to me that I get this anon, right as I deleted that post.

Because I'm glad someone understands.

Like oh, I'm sorry, you're too "nice" to pick the Dark Urge?

But you have no problem blowing a slaver?

You're like the stereotypical 90s love interests who are "nice girls" but also inexplicably dating a dude who knocks a kid in a wheelchair down the stairs. How the fuck can you be "nice" and compassionate, while the dude you're fucking is a sociopathic felon?

Durgetash works for TWO reasons.

Reason 1: They are both fucking awful, and we all know it. Them torturing and ruining each other is a tragic romance with broken teeth, and we enjoy the low moan of a dying animal, tearing itself apart in distress. They start evil, they end evil. Evil horny bastard sex. Tavtash could never be so demented.

Don't jump into bed with Enver Gortash if you intend to keep your hands clean either.

Reason 2: The Dark Urge was given a second chance, even though they didn't deserve it, and took it. They were given the opportunity to fix their mistakes in game. Gortash doesn't get that. The romance is in the tragedy of, he could never be saved. And you cannot save him, even as you save the rest of the world. You grow, and he stays behind.

The romance is in the longing and the yearning for something that is no longer there. The camaraderie of two lonely people...who were separated, and never ever came back together again. It's also about how you were born evil, but chose redemption, while he was born innocent, but chose damnation. Durgetash operates well on this level because it's always equality of opposites. It is character development, mirrored. And it's fascinating to consider.

And what does Tavtash have going on?

It's someone Gortash just met who has something he wants, who may or may not want to kill him but he's desperate enough to throw his eggs in that particular basket. And on Tav's side, it's weird because it's like omg.

I just met him, and he ruined my life, he put a fucking tadpole in my head, and I'm close to becoming a mindless monster without any free will, something he DIRECTLY did to me and my loved ones -

But I still think he's hot.

Hm. ok. that might be amusing if there wasn't a better precursor for a relationship sitting right there beneath you. rotting in Orin's dungeon.

I won't deny, Durgetash might be absolutely nuts - but it will never be as nuts as Tavtash.

But anyway. You didn't hear that from me.

If anyone asks, I looooove Tavtash. I loooooove Tavs. Especially YOUR Tav.

[say-hwaet]

High Sierra: A Red Dead Redemption Story

Chapter Thirteen: Awaken Previous Chapter Summary: Eliza receives a call as to Arthur's whereabouts, and she seeks to find him. What has happened to Arthur? And how will this change things? Word Count: ~7,200 words Next Chapter: Fourteen

Eliza's heart pounds in her chest as she rushes through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the hospital. Her mind spins with worry and fear. What happened to Arthur? Why didn’t he answer her calls, the calls she made to warn him about Micah Bell—the man responsible for the killings in the woods?

The hospital feels like a maze. Though she’s been to the High Sierra Regional Hospital almost more than she’s been at home lately, she’s only ever been at Labor and Delivery and the Cancer Wing.

Taking a moment to look up, she sees the sign that says Burn Unit with a distinct arrow pointing to the right. She nearly slides around the corner and almost bumps into a nurse on her way down the hall. “I’m so sorry…!” she calls out behind her but keeps going.

The hallway opens up to a waiting area and she spots a nurse at the front. Reaching the front desk, Eliza rams into the counter as she gasps for breath, her hands trembling as she grips the counter. "Please,” she pants. “My name is Eliza. I am here to see Arthur Morgan. Where is he? I…I need to see him."

The nurse looks at her with kind eyes, understanding the urgency in her voice. “We’re glad that you could make it so quickly, Ma’am.” She turns to look at a computer and reads something off the monitor. "He's not awake, at the moment, but you can see him for a minute.” The nurse extends her hand and points towards two double doors. “He's in room fourteen."

Eliza can feel her body relax. Asleep is better than dead and by the tone of the nurse’s voice, nothing is to severe that you can’t wait for the doctor to explain the situation. She nods softly and releases her white-knuckled grip on the counter. "Thank you." Backing away, she holds her purse tightly to her breast and heads down the hall.

On her way to room fourteen, the smell of disinfectant hung in the air, mixing with her fear and anxiety. Just as she spots the number of Arthur’s room, she sees a tall man in a white coat open its door. He must be the doctor and he begins to head in her direction. Their eyes meet and she tries to signal him. "Doctor, I am Eliza. How is Arthur?"

The doctor gives her a grave expression, his eyes filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he says softly. "Arthur is unconscious. The smoke he inhaled was a dangerous amount and he took a large blow to the head. The chances of him making it are slim right now. These first few hours will be crucial."

Eliza's legs turn weak beneath her, and she fights to remain standing. Why didn’t the nurse say anything? She sounded so calm, like nothing could possibly be wrong! She can’t lose Arthur. Not now, not when she has so much to say to him.

But she has to keep calm. She can’t let the doctor see her cry. “Can I still sit with him?”

The doctor nods. “Of course you can. Just don’t expect him to wake up for a while. We will continue to monitor him and give him oxygen.”

“Can he…?” Eliza struggles to form words, the lump in her throat growing larger. “Can he hear me?”

The doctor shrugs his shoulders softly. “It is difficult to say, ma’am. Some believe that patients can hear loved ones when they are unconscious, and it may even help them in their recovery. But scientifically, it's still uncertain."

Eliza nods, swallowing hard against the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "Thank you, doctor. I'll just... I'll just talk to him then."

The doctor nods, stepping to the side and continues on his way.

Eliza stares at the door for a moment, clutching her purse tightly. She’s afraid of what she might see behind that door. She’s tried to prepare herself before, when anytime Arthur would go to work. His job hasn’t ever guaranteed safety, but she had never felt so connected or so responsible. If she hadn’t stuck her neck where it didn’t belong, and never shared the information she uncovered with him, he wouldn’t be where he is now.

This is her fault. She knows it.

And she won’t blame him if he opens his eyes and never wants to see her again.

But here is her chance. Her chance to see him, to maybe say goodbye before closing the door forever.

With a shaky breath, she cautiously enters his room, her heart heavy with anticipation and fear. The stark white walls and sterile smell of the hospital room hit her senses, making her feel small and insignificant in the face of the machines that surrounded him. As she approaches his bedside, her eyes blur with tears as she sees him lying still, connected to countless beeping monitors and tubes. She can no longer hold back the flood of emotion as she sinks into a nearby chair, the hard plastic digging into her skin.

"Arthur," she chokes out, her voice barely a whisper. "Please, fight. Stay with us." She reaches out a hand, brushing her fingertips gently against his cheek, feeling that prickly stubble that used to make her squeal when he’d rub against her face. He knew she didn’t like it, but he’d do it anyway before kissing her incessantly. She’d give anything to have that now.

She sniffs and swallows before continuing. "I know you can't hear me...but...I love you," she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm sorry for being so closed off to you. I'm sorry I am not good enough. Please, come back to me. Isaac needs you...I—I need you."

With each passing moment, she feels more and more helpless, like a tiny bird trapped in a cage. But she refuses to leave his side, holding onto the slim thread of hope that he will wake up and everything will be okay again.

Unbeknownst to Eliza, Hosea had just arrived at the hospital. His kind eyes clouded with concern as he had heard her heartfelt plea to Arthur.

Hosea lingers in the doorway, his own heart heavy with the weight of seeing his son in such a state. He watches Eliza, noting the raw emotion etched across her face, an uncharacteristic openness that he has rarely seen from her. Slowly, Hosea steps into the room, his presence gentle and patient. In this moment of raw vulnerability, he catches a glimpse of the untold depths of her love for Arthur and the weight of the pain she has been silently carrying. His heart twists with empathy and longing for them both, wishing to ease their burden and bring them solace.

As Eliza sobs, a sudden vibration from her pocket pulls her back to the present. She wipes her eyes and digs in her purse, retrieving her cell phone. Bring it up to see the caller ID, she feels a heated anger build in her heart.

It is her boss and the owner of the restaurant: Mr. Bronte. She knows why he was calling, and it isn’t out of concern for her wellbeing. With a mixture of anger and determination, she answers the call.

"Mr. Bronte," Eliza begins, her voice laced with bitterness. "I'm not coming into work today. I have a family emergency…What do you mean? …I've rarely ever taken time off—No. I'm not coming in…Oh really? …Well, how about I report you to the authorities for harassment then? I think it's about time I said something…Well, You know what? I quit. Go find someone else to order around."

She hangs up with a firm tap on “End Call” and raises her hand to throw her phone, but hesitates. She lets out a long exhale and shoves the phone back into her purse.

She brings a palm to her forehead, and begins to listen to the steady beeping of Arthur’s heart monitor. She lifts her eyes and studies his form again. There’s still residue of ash and whatever he had ended up on his skin.

Now she has no job, but that can’t be further from her mind.

What if he doesn’t wake up?

She tucks her chin, covering her face with her hands, and she sobs. She tries her best to stifle her cries, so as not to disturb anyone else in the wing.

“Get a hold of yourself, Eliza!” she sighs and finally lifts her head. That’s when she decides to turn to look about the room.

And that’s when she notices Hosea standing there. She gasps, and while surprised, his presence is a comforting balm amidst the chaos of her emotions. Hosea gently motions for her to approach him, and after wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she rises from the chair and walks calmly over to him.

When close enough to whisper, she asks him one question, clearly embarrassed. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," he smiles empathetically. He looks over her to his son, his brow pinched in concern. His eyes meet Eliza’s again and he gestures towards the door. “It doesn’t feel right to talk about him while he’s laying there. Can we step out for a minute?”

Eliza looks back towards the sleeping patient. She doesn’t want to leave him, but she trusts the doctor. They’ll keep monitoring him. She turns back to Hosea and nods. “Alright.”

They move away quietly out of Arthur's room and close the door just a bit to have their conversation in the hallway.

���Did you see the doctor on your way in?” Hosea asks.

“Yes, he said that Arthur isn’t expected to wake up any time soon. He’s…he’s in a bad way.”

“Nobody will tell me anything,” Hosea says with a hint of agitation. “I’m his father for God’s sake, and they can’t even tell me how it happened.”

The guilt comes back. It fills Eliza’s stomach like a hot pit of ache. “I think I know.” Her voice trembles as she begins, each word weighted with regret. “Arthur was investigating those televised hunting accidents. Only, they weren’t accidents.”

Hosea’s eyes study her intently. “He told you this?”

She nods slowly. “I…I even helped him. I spoke to the first victim’s widow. We are friends.” Eliza feels Hosea staring at her. Is it anger? Disappointment? She can’t bear to look up at him and see. Instead, she keeps her gaze fixed on the sterile, white tiles of the hospital floor. "Arthur got too close, I think. Someone didn’t want him sniffing around." She feels her eyes water, the sting a reminder of the trouble she has caused. The pain she has inflicted on the man that she’s loved for ten years. “He could die because of me. I should have stopped him.”

At her words, she feels a hand take her arm and she looks up. Hosea's voice matches the softness in his eyes as he speaks to her. “Stop him? Eliza, you of all people know that you can’t get that man to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” He pauses, offering a smile. "You did what you thought was right, helping him. I know it meant a lot to him.”

She shakes her head. She wants to believe that, but there are now bigger things than wants. "I just...I can't lose him, Hosea. Not like this. Isaac needs his father."

"I know, Eliza."

Her mind begins to reel, thinking of all of the times that she could have affected their relationship for the better. Times where it would have mattered more than it ever could ."I should have told him how I felt about him.” She hugs herself tightly, looking back at the tile floor. “Maybe if I had been brave, maybe he wouldn't be so non-committal. He has been good to us. He risked his life tonight and perhaps saved all of us."

Hosea’s brow pinches and he tilts his head. "Eliza, how far does this investigation go?"

Eliza fears she’s already said too much, but she can’t bring herself to lie to her child’s grandfather. “Deep, I fear. I know Arthur was going after the man who killed those two people.”

Hosea’s eyes widen. “Oh my.”

"Yes. I don't know if he succeeded or not, but I am just glad he is alive...for now..." Tears continue to flow down Eliza's face as she feels the need to pour her heart out to Hosea. “When I met Arthur, my life was so linear. I was going to college. Going to study history and teach one day. But that woman had bumped into me, causing food to fly everywhere…” She lifts her eyes as though she sees it all before her. Her in her work uniform, hair pulled tight in a bun, hollandaise sauce all over her shirt. She lets herself smile at the memory. “He was so kind, despite how sad he was. He didn’t really see me. He just got his heart broken into pieces…” Hosea continues to listen attentively, letting her relive something that is not as grim as the past few years of her life. “And then you all came to the restaurant for his graduation party. He was so handsome…so…” She tucks her chin, hardly able to speak. "I love your son, Hosea. I always have."

Hosea reaches across the small space between them, placing a gentle hand on Eliza's arm. "I know, Eliza. Now, let me tell you something." He waits for her to lift her eyes to look back at him before speaking. "You are brave. And you have to believe he'll make it through this. You are his other half. Anyone who can't see that is a fool." His voice is soft, carrying the weight of understanding forged through years of beauty as well as hardship.

Eliza's heart flutters with a fragile sense of hope. Hosea's words, though simple, carry the weight of truth.

In this moment, she has a sudden realization that she has let anger and hurt overshadow her love for Arthur in the past. Memories of seeing him with Mary at that party a few months ago flood back and confirm her feelings for him, filling her with a burning resentment towards herself for not speaking up sooner. Despite all of her actions showing her love, she knows now that words are just as important. Every fiber of her being longs to be by his side at all times, soaking up every moment they have together. However, with more time on her hands, she could potentially live at the hospital if given permission. The thought fills her with a glimmer of hope and determination to make the most of every opportunity to be near Arthur.

"If he wakes up,” she says with resolve and devotion. “I want to tell him."

"You mean when,” Hosea corrects with a smile.

Eliza sniffs. "Right. When."

He removes his hand from her arm and relaxes his shoulders. "Where's Isaac?"

"My neighbor is watching him. Susan Grimshaw. I was going to head back home in time for his treatment."

Hosea thinks for a moment and offers an alternative. "How about Bessie and I take him? We can keep him at our place while you remain here.” He grins. “I think he wouldn't mind."

Not that Susan is terrible with Isaac, but the comfort of having Bessie and Hosea around him might just ease his heart a bit more. She knows Isaac adores them, their ranch with its sprawling fields a perfect escape for a boy who dreams more of the outdoors than of hospital rooms. Eliza nods, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes, grateful to have people so readily in her corner. "Oh, would you?"

Hosea nods. “Of course.”

"Thank you, I will call Susan and let her know you're coming."

"Great. I'll call Bessie. I left my phone in the truck.” He turns to walk back down the hall and waves to Eliza softly. “I'll be back."

"Okay."

Hosea turns the corner, leaving Eliza alone to gather herself. Her heart aches as she reenters the room and sits by Arthur's bedside in that extremely uncomfortable chair, taking his hand in hers.

She brings it close to her face, feeling the warmth of his skin against her cheek as she gently kisses his palm. Her gaze lingers on his face, searching for any small sign of life or hope that he will make it through. But there isn’t none. His eyes still closed, his breathing shallow. The beeping of the heart monitor still sounding off every other second.

She knows that the journey ahead will be filled with challenges and obstacles, but she also knows that their love is unbreakable and worth fighting for. With tears still glistening in her eyes, she bows her head and offers up a heartfelt prayer for Arthur's recovery, promising to stand by his side no matter what trials may come. The room is filled with a sense of love and determination, as Eliza clings tightly to Arthur's hand, willing him to hold on and not give up.

***

Eliza anxiously bobs her right knee as she sits down in the sterile hospital corridor, her heart pounding in her chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Beside her sits Hosea, his comforting presence providing a much-needed anchor in the storm of uncertainty. The lingering scent of antiseptic mingles with the anxious whispers of other waiting strangers, creating an atmosphere charged with tension. The weight of the situation presses down upon Eliza's shoulders, threatening to crush her spirit.

Two, long, agonizing days have passed since Sadie had discovered Arthur amidst the charred remains of the forest fire. The flames had licked at his body, leaving him battered and broken, fighting for every breath. The fire had claimed his consciousness, trapping him in a labyrinth of darkness from which he had yet to emerge.

A flickering television screen mounted on the wall of the waiting room draws Eliza and Hosea’s attention, its brightly lit news report telling a tale of treachery and justice.

“Good morning, High Sierra, this is Tilly Jackson coming to you live from the studio. We have some more updates on the recent wildfire and the apprehension of the state’s most wanted fugitive: Micah Bell.”

And without another second, the image of Micah Bell appears on the screen. It is a mugshot, his face filthy and his eyes dark.

The news anchor, Tilly, continues. “For just a recap, Micah Bell III, also known as Michael Barnes, has several criminal charges, all dealing with drug possession and selling narcotics. But now, he has added murder to his list.”

She goes on to explain just as Eliza had learned, he was the criminal responsible for the deaths that were initially dismissed as tragic accidents.

“An unnamed game warden was discovered unconscious along with Bell when Lieutenant Sadie Adler and a select group of hotshots were putting out a large forest fire. This fire, discovered to be started with accelerants, took four days to fully put out.” Eliza and Hosea exchanged knowing glances; they knew it was Arthur who had unraveled the sinister truth lurking within the woods. As the reporter details the vile acts committed by the criminal, and that he is being guarded while he recovers at the hospital, Eliza can’t help but shudder, her mind consumed by the horrors Arthur had faced and by the knowledge that Micah Bell is somewhere in the hospital.

Breaking through her inner musings, a nurse glides towards her, her crisp blue uniform popping against the dull and sterile surroundings. Eliza and Hosea, their faces etched with concern, turn their gazes to the approaching figure, filled with hopeful anticipation. The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glare on the scene, intensifying the anxiety in the air. Each tick of the clock mounted on the wall seems to echo louder than the last as they’ve waited for any news, good or bad.

"Are you Mrs. Morgan?" the nurse inquires, her voice gentle and welcoming.

Eliza's heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "No... no, I'm not. We're...we are not married," she stammers, taken aback.

The nurse's eyebrows furrow as she glances down at the clipboard in her hand, her fingers tapping against the paper in confusion. Her gaze shifts back up to Eliza's face, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dancing in her eyes. "I apologize, but he listed you as his emergency contact and listed your relationship as 'wife'. We assumed..." Eliza's heart swells with emotion, a newfound warmth spreading through her veins as she processes the words. She had always seen herself as simply the mother of their child, but this revelation hints at something deeper, something that stirs her heart and makes it flutter with hope.

Eliza leans forward in her seat, looking up at the nurse with earnest. "When did he do that? When did he list me as his wife?" she questions, a mix of emotions swirling within her.

The nurse's eyes flicker with hesitation as she takes in the delicate circumstances. After a moment of contemplation, she finally answers, her voice heavy with empathy. "It was a couple of months ago," she says softly.

A small smile creeps onto Eliza's lips, but her eyes fill with tears. The weight of the nurse's words settles on her shoulders, and she realizes the true depth of Arthur's feelings for her. Despite his gruff exterior and complicated past, had he chosen her to be his person? She couldn't help but wonder, feeling a mix of joy and apprehension at the thought. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a warm sensation spreading through her body as she allowed herself to consider the possibility.

The nurse's eyes, filled with empathy and understanding, soften as she recognizes the significance of this pivotal moment. Despite knowing that the information the hospital was given isn’t entirely accurate, she chooses to let it go, realizing the importance of providing comfort in a time of uncertainty. With a gentle tone, she asks, "Would you be willing to grant permission for a pulmonary treatment?" The small spark of hope in her voice offers a glimmer of light amidst their overwhelming despair. It was moments like these where compassion and understanding made all the difference in the world.

Eliza nods, a sense of determination radiating from within her. "Yes, of course. Anything to help him recover."

The nurse brings the clipboard down, presenting it to Eliza. She signs the necessary documents and passes it back to the nurse, who accepts it with a nod. "You'll be able to see him soon," she says and she turns to leave.

The nurse's footsteps echoed in the waiting room, leaving Hosea and Eliza alone in the corner. Hosea's aged and wise eyes, lined with wrinkles from a lifetime of experience, gaze upon Eliza with a mixture of empathy and affection. He reaches out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently places it on her arm, offering a comforting touch. "Eliza," he says in a tender tone, his voice filled with understanding and compassion, "I know this is overwhelming, but you have been steadfast for Arthur. You have shown great strength in the face of adversity." The pale light from the window cast a grey brightness on their faces, emphasizing the weight of the situation and the bond between them. Despite the heaviness in the air, there is a sense of warmth and comfort in their shared moment.

Tears well in Eliza's eyes as she looks at Hosea, seeing the genuine kindness in his wrinkled face. The weight of her circumstances begins to settle upon her, the knowledge that she doesn’t have a job anymore and that her financial security crumbling beneath her.

With a shaky voice, Eliza whispers, "Hosea, I don't know what to do."

A flicker of determination sparks in Hosea's eyes as he squeezes her arm gently. "You are not alone, my dear," he assures her. "We'll figure this out together. Arthur and you, you deserve happiness."

His words bolster her spirit, filling her with a renewed sense of purpose. Eliza takes a deep breath, finding a little bit of courage again.

***

As the soft morning light seeps through the blinds in the hospital room, Arthur stirs beneath the crisply starched white sheets. His eyes flutter open, momentarily dazed from the remnants of being asleep for so long and his mind still foggy from the smoke. All he remembers is falling to the ground and everything going black.

Now he is in a white room. He doesn’t remember being brought here.

When did he get here? How long has he been here? He feels something attached to his nose. Bringing a hand up to his face, he notices the IV in his hand. He’s in a hospital. All that happened, when he encountered Micah amidst the wildfire, must have been pretty severe. He continues to bring his hand up carefully to his face to the object tickling his nose. Tubes. Oxygen. He takes a deep breath and coughs.

As he turns his stiff neck he sees a bouquet of flowers stand proudly on the bedside table, a vibrant pop of color against the sterile surroundings. Then as his other senses begin to awaken, he can hear a gentle jingling.

And a waft of vanilla floats his way.

Arthur's gaze drifts downward towards his feet, where a familiar figure stands at the foot of the bed. Mary, dressed in a flowing summer dress the color of the ocean, exudes grace and elegance. As he takes in her appearance, a flicker of recognition dances across Arthur's face, followed by a glimmer of warmth that replaces the lethargy in his tired eyes. "Mary," he murmurs softly, his voice raspy and filled with exhaustion from his injuries. A sense of comfort washes over him as she stands there, a beacon of light in his darkened room.

Her voice quivers slightly as she tries to maintain a composed facade. "Arthur," she sighs and after clearing her throat, she points to the bouquet. "I brought you these. I thought they might brighten up the room."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Arthur's mouth as he turns his head slowly to look back at the flowers. "Thank you, Mary," Arthur replies, his voice filled with gratitude.

Confusion clouds Mary's face, causing her usually smooth brow to furrow in concentration. Her lips part slightly as she searches for the right words. "Where's Eliza?" Her voice is filled with worry and a touch of annoyance. “Shouldn't she be here with you?"

His heart aches at the mention of Eliza's name. In this moment, he realizes that although he still cares for Mary deeply, their relationship belongs in the past. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions before responding. But no matter how much he tries to control it, there's a bittersweet ache that lingers within him. Seeing how quickly and instinctively Mary asks about Eliza's whereabouts only confirms what truly matters to her.

"I don't know where Eliza is," Arthur admits, his voice laced with a hint of sadness. Truth is, he wants to know.

He wishes he could say Eliza was just outside, grabbing a coffee or speaking with the doctors, but the reality gnaws at him more painfully. She’d been distant lately, more so since Isaac’s latest rounds of treatment started. It weighed on Arthur heavily, the unspoken fears and frayed nerves stretching their already tenuous relationship.

And then they drew even further apart, only talking about his investigation or about Isaac. That was weeks ago. Well, weeks before the fire. He doesn’t know how much time has passed.

“So, you haven’t seen her?” she asks. “At all?”

Arthur shakes his head. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t seen her even before the fire.”

A glimmer of hope dances in Mary's eyes, mingling with a sense of triumph that radiates from her. She takes a determined step forward, her voice rising with excitement and possibility. "Arthur, if you're finally letting go of Eliza, then maybe there's still a chance for us..."

Arthur pauses, unsure of how to approach such a sensitive topic. He knows that any wrong move could push Mary away forever. But he also knows that he can't keep living a lie. With a deep breath, he speaks the words weighing on his heart. "Thank you for the flowers, Mary, but you shouldn't have come here."

Instantly, Mary's expression shifts from hopeful to crestfallen. Her usually vibrant features are now clouded with confusion and hurt. "What do you mean? Arthur, I thought we—"

Arthur, ever the gentle soul, reaches out to touch Mary's hand as she stands by his bed, trying to prevent her from saying something she might regret. "Mary, what we had…it belongs to the past," he says gently, his voice filled with a hint of sadness.

Anger flares in Mary's now glistening eyes, overshadowing her earlier hope. "How can you say that, Arthur?" she exclaims, her voice rising with frustration. "We were meant to be together…! Fate is giving us another chance, and now you're pushing away what we could have...?"

Arthur's heart aches as he sees the pain etched on Mary's face. He has always cared for her, but their paths have diverged, they have never been meant for each other. "Mary, you know that's not true," he replies calmly. "We've both moved on. Eliza…she's become an important part of my life."

Mary's temper flared, her words dripping with bitterness. "Eliza? But she’s not even here…!” her voice is pleading, emotional and she takes a quick step back. “She was just a waitress when you met her when we ended things. You were sad and lonely, any pretty thing with soft eyes would be understandably pleasing. When you kissed me, you could have stopped, but you didn’t. You’ve agreed to see me. To talk to me. If she was more than a waitress, wouldn’t you have told me off by now?”

Arthur feels his chest tighten and he coughs again. “Don’t…don’t talk about her like that. You kissed me. You keep callin’ me. You are the one startin’ all this. I’ve never stopped carin' 'bout you, Mary, I care about a lotta folks, but things change. Folks change. I've got responsibilities now, and they ain't just 'bout me," Arthur explains, his voice strained as he tries to rein in his frustration. He can feel the old wounds opening up, the scars of their past relationship pulling tight.

Mary's brow furrows and she crosses her arms, her lip trembling with hurt and frustration. Her heart aches at the thought of losing Arthur to someone else. "So you'd choose her over me? It's only because she has your son that you want to be with her, can't you see that?" Her voice cracks as tears well up in her eyes.

Arthur's eyes blaze with anger, but he maintains a calm demeanor. "Eliza is more than just a waitress, Mary, or even the mother of my son," he says firmly, his tone laced with determination. "I care for her deeply, but it's not just about that. She's carin’ and selfless, always puttin’ others before herself. She loves Isaac more than anythin’ in this world. Can you honestly say the same?"

As Mary looks into his intense gaze, she realizes that there is truth in his words. Eliza may have his son, but she also possesses qualities that Mary cannot deny. And in that moment, she understands why Arthur has chosen to be with Eliza instead of her. A tinge of regret fills her heart, but she knows deep down that she cannot compete with the love between Arthur and Eliza.

And the result of that love is what makes her bitter.

Mary's once pleasant features now twist with a mix of anger and disbelief. Her voice trembles as she speaks, "Isaac? Your son? Do you know how much pain it brings me to acknowledge that he's your son? He should have been my son instead of...of hers!" Hot, salty tears spill down her face, betraying the depth of her emotions. As a widow, childless and alone; the man that had devoted himself to her once had gone off to start a family without her. The sting of betrayal had burned deep in her heart, adding fuel to her simmering anger. Ever since, she’s been desperate for a new beginning, one where she could pick up where she left off, not have to start completely all over. When her husband died, he left her with only money, not something—someone—to remember him by.

So that is what this is all about, Arthur thinks. She is angry. She's angry that I moved on and didn't wait for her.

Arthur's voice is laced with determination as he confronts Mary's selfishness head-on. "If bein’ with me means embracin’ my son, Mary, would you do it?” He pauses for a moment, studying her eyes as she avoids his gaze. “Could you look past how he came to this world, or maybe you should just realize that a life with me ain’t what you really want?"

She shakes her head. “I want you, Arthur. I…I love you.”

Arthur shakes his head slowly and when she looks up at him, he offers her an empathetic smile. “You love who I used to be. An idea that weren't really there in the first place. I ain’t that person you want. Never was.” He shrugs his aching shoulders. “I just happen to be the man still alive.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Arthur says, the truth now more apparent than ever. "And I reckon it's time you start acceptin’ that." His words hang heavy in the chilly air between them, each one a tiny, unyielding anchor pulling down on the remnants of what could have been.

The room falls into a sobering silence, each heartbeat echoing in the stillness. Mary's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she fights to find the right words, her pride and emotions warring within her. In the end, she can do nothing but storm out of the room, her heart heavy with aching regret. The sound of her retreating footsteps echoes off the walls like thunder, a reflection of the emotional storm raging within her.

Arthur leans back into his pillow, exhaling slowly. The room feels suddenly larger, emptier, as if Mary's departure has sucked the air from it. Arthur's mind reels with the confrontation, his heart aching with a mixture of relief and sorrow. He knows he's done the right thing, standing firm on his ground, but the cost of it wears on him heavily.

Mary is gone now, maybe not completely erased from his life, but at least for a while. It is an odd feeling, to not have that weight anymore. But what continues to bear down into his soul is the question of Eliza. Where is she? Will he ever see her again? Was Mary the only one to come and see him? He hasn’t seen any evidence of anyone else being here, and that thought alone is enough to tighten the knot in his stomach.

Arthur turns his gaze toward the small window in his room, watching as the early morning light begins to seep through, casting long shadows across the floor. He thinks of Isaac, asleep at home, or maybe playing with Hosea. He hopes the boy isn’t worried about him, he hopes that if anyone knows where he is, they spared his son the news of his battle with fists, flames, and smoke. The poor boy has been through enough.

Maybe that’s what this is. Maybe that’s why Eliza isn’t here. Perhaps, she has further distanced herself to shield their child from his foolishness.

Odd, that. To be completely alone, for the first time in a while.

***

Hours pass and Arthur finally had fallen back asleep. The room was quiet almost to drive him to madness, with nothing but the solitary beeping from the machines he’s hooked up to and the oxygen tank puffing air into his nostrils. Sleep is the only escape he has.

His dreams are chaotic, happy moments all scattered. He chases after each one, hoping to relive those memories long gone. The day he got Boadicea. The day of his graduation from the academy. When he met Eliza. Isaac’s birth. Any threat to wake him, he fights to stay in those dreams, where everything seems perfect, where the harshness of reality can't reach him. In those dreams, Isaac is healthy and laughing, Eliza's eyes don't hold that shadow of sorrow, and Mary's departure is just a bad dream within a dream.

But dreams, like all good things, come to an end.

He’s startled awake when someone takes his arm. He opens his eyes to see the nurse, Nurse Amy, who has been tending to him for the duration that he’s been at the hospital. With only offering him a smile, she begins to check his vitals, starting with his blood pressure.

“You scared me,” he says gruffly, his voice still affected by the smoke.

“Thought nothing scared you, Mr. Morgan,” she teases.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “You’d be surprised. I just happen to be human like everybody else.”

“Well, the way I hear it, you took on a notorious criminal all by yourself.”

Arthur chuckles bashfully. “Ain’t true. Charles helped—” Wait. Charles. What happened to him? Arthur looks up at the nurse, eyes wide and pleading. “You don’t happen to know where a Charles Smith—”

She grins. “He had a good burn, but was released a couple of days ago.” Then she lowers her voice. “And that is all that I am allowed to tell you. Doctor-Patient confidentiality, you know.”

He will take it. Knowing that Charles is safe and sound gives him comfort. He will have to reach out to him soon, see for himself that Charles is alright. But for now, he's stuck in this sterile room, the beep of the heart monitor more rhythmic than the ticking of a clock, marking time in life or death increments.

Arthur turns his head away as Nurse Amy adjusts an IV, his thoughts drifting back to others he hasn’t seen. His parents. John.

Isaac and Eliza.

And coming behind him, a gentle creak gathers his attention and Arthur's heart begins to race, knowing the source of the noise.

The door has opened.

He turns his head, following Nurse Amy’s gaze as they befall the figure who has stepped into the room.

It is Eliza.

He would think that she is an angel, the way she’s standing there. This is the first time he has seen her since the fire, and his heart swells at the sight of her.

She smiles at the nurse and then her eyes fall upon him. "Arthur! You're awake…!" Eliza gasps, her voice laced with a mixture of relief and excitement. "When the doctor called me this morning, I couldn't believe it!"

Nurse Amy begins to gather her things. “I will be back in a little bit.” And with a gentle wink to Arthur, she excuses herself.

Eliza steps closer to the bed, her eyes scanning him, noting the bandages and the tubes—a sight that makes her brow furrows with worry. Arthur tries to muster a smile, attempting to ease that concern marked on her face, but he finds it difficult. The room feels suddenly too small, filled with all the things said and unsaid. She carefully sits at his bedside. "How are you feeling?"

Her words wash over Arthur, soothing his wounded soul. At this moment, he realizes the power she has over him. It isn’t just her physical beauty that captivates him; it is her unwavering support and genuine care that draws him closer. His heart yearns to be honest with himself and embrace the love that Eliza has offered so freely.

But at this moment, all he can manage is another weak smile. "I'm on the mend, thanks to you," he replies, and then he starts to cough harshly.

Eliza leans toward him, reaching out to take his hand. "Should I get you some water?"

He nods, the slight movement causing a ripple of pain to course through his body. She rises from his bed, the heels of her sandals clopping softly against the cool tile floor. A small sink and counter are situated close by, adorned with various bottles and containers. She reaches out and grabs a paper cup, the crisp sound of its edges crinkling in the stillness of the room. With swift movements, she fills the cup at the sink, the water splashing and swirling inside before she returns to his side. Gently placing her hand behind his head, she brings the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully so he can take a few sips at a time. He sips slowly, each drop soothing and refreshing to his parched throat. As he finishes, she sets the cup down on the end table by his bed. The simple act of drinking has exhausted him, but he is grateful for her care and presence.

"That cough sounds horrible," she says, her voice filled with concern.

He nods, but he doesn’t want her to worry about that. He has questions of his own. "I have to know, no one will tell me."

She turns to him and looks at him knowingly. "About Micah?"

He blinks slowly, sinking back into his pillow. "Yes."

"They got him. You beat him up pretty good."

He looks at his hands as they rest in his lap, knowing what they are capable of, what they have done. "He tried to kill me, and I almost killed him. I would have killed him."

She leans forward and lets her hand slip into his, taking his hand with a firm but gentle grasp. "But you didn't. He will be taken into custody once he recovers, and will face the consequences of his crimes."

Arthur shrugs his shoulders and sighs, coughing again.

Eliza’s eyes soften, her brown pinching. "That cough worries me."

"If that's the worst to happen to me, I'm not worried."

Eliza clicks her tongue, sighing slowly. "Well, I'll worry for the both of us, then."

"The worst they could call me at work is Black Lung."

"Oh, stop it," she giggles, playfully tapping him on the arm. He quickly winces.

As he groans, a small, pained whimper escapes from his lips. "Oof!" He winces and clutches at his side, trying to ease the sharp ache that radiates through his body. His face contorts in discomfort and he takes a deep breath, trying to push through the pain.

She lifts her hands away from his bruised ribs and leans in closer to him, her expression filled with concern. "Oh Arthur, I'm so sorry…!" she apologizes, her voice laced with worry.

But as she reaches out to soothe him, he suddenly starts to laugh. "Gotcha," he says between gasps of laughter. A small coughing fit overcomes him, causing him to double over in a mix of amusement and discomfort. She quickly hands him the cup again, her eyes filled with both amusement and relief.

"You're terrible," she chides.

His heart swells, realizing the depth of her care and devotion. Despite everything that has happened between them, she has only cared about his well-being. Arthur now has the confirmation he needs: he knows he has made the right choice.

"It's good to see you again, Eliza," he sighs. When she takes the cup back from him, their fingers brush against each other and a jolt of electricity seems to pass between them. They met each other's gaze, lingering in the moment.

A smile spread across Eliza's face, lighting it up like the sun breaking through dark clouds. "It's so good to have you back, Arthur.”

Thank you for reading!

Tag Requests: @photo1030 @cassietrn

[fakeoldmanfucker]

Hi, saw your post about you writing a time travel story with Phil Ochs, and I know of him!😅 Unfortunately I'm too shy to write a private message, so if there's anything you want/can discuss with an anon, I'll be glad to help. The premise of time travel sounds incredibely interesting!

!!! Thank you kind anon!! I have no qualms discussing anything via asks, it's just I'm bad at starting without a guideline/specific focus that comes from more focused questions. My own thing I need to work on lol.

Let's see. As I already mentioned in a previous post, I think Phil, who had a habit of great-man-ism and saw himself as something of the hero in his story (or maybe an antihero, who knows), faced with the opportunity to potentially change the course of history? I Absolutely think, especially at the beginning, with the initial manic rush of the whole Time Travel Thing, he would feel an urge to, say, prevent certain major assassinations that happened in the 60s. I think that would be his first instinct, as opposed to, say, thinking about doing more extensive community building or writing songs. I do think he would get around to those eventually, but, well, the first impulse is a dramatic one and I think that fits him.

I'm also interested in the theme of sort of...the idea of redemption being a trap. I know he regretted the way his relationship with Alice worked out, and especially that this caused him not to see Meegan as much as he would've liked. I can imagine he would start to make sort of grand plans to, you know, redo their relationship and be a Better Man. Spoiler alert, I think this wouldn't work At All. I think he would make himself miserable trying to do it, putting all this pressure on himself to conform in a certain way. I think it would be a quick path to burnout and depression for sure. How soon he would figure that out though is definitely a question I have not resolved.

On a slightly lower stakes, plot driven point, I think he would move out to New York (or maybe California, but I'm thinking New York because the Greenwich folk scene would still be swinging at that time) way earlier, because I genuinely can't see him bothering with college again. He never graduated so it's not like he ended up needing the degree, and especially if he starts a couple years earlier, moving out in '60 as opposed to '62, he'll have built up a good base for himself.

(I am planning on including a scene where Phil plays his tribute to Woody to Woody...because frankly I think Phil deserved to, especially considering Bob did it. And because I think Phil would get a kick out of "beating" Dylan to it lol.)

Oh! Minor detail, I'm planning on him traveling back to the beginning of the 60s, like January 1960, to really cement the idea in Phil's mind that this is a whole new chance, clean slate.

Hmm...I'm as yet undecided if I want to write Phil as on the aroace spectrum, or if I want him to be a gay man (or both! not being exclusive here. In my mind they're sort of on two ends of an extreme that have related but different forms of repression and oppression, but very likely I'll end up finding some sort of middle ground between the two). So, yk, submit your arguments here, I can be swayed.

Idk, is that enough to spark anyone's interest and ask more questions?

Sorry I took so long to answer this anon. Thanks for encouraging me!

[trashcankitty12]

A Snippet From My Upcoming Fic

I'm real excited about this one, even though it's not finished yet and probably won't be for a bit. (All of the chapters so far have been longer than I normally write... And I'm planning for 22 of them. So... Yeah...)

But I'm excited. And I wanted to share a snippet of Chapter One!

This story is from my Grace Au, which is a continuation from my fic "I Didn't Have It In Myself To Go With Grace", which is a story in which I essentially had Griffin murdered by Valtor. On accident. Sort of.

This fic takes place roughly 25-ish years after the initial story and Valtor is being 'recruited' to work for the New Company of Light against his Mothers.

Fun, right?

Anyway, snippet under the cut!

Remembering his manners, he gave a careful bow, thrilled his limbs were starting to get used to cooperating with him again. “I’m glad for the chance to meet the one who got me out of Omega. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Take a seat, we have much to discuss.” Her tone had a slight drawl to it, (Rancorian?), and her tone was one that suggested she was a ‘no-nonsense’ person. 

Fantastic.

Valtor gave a nod, taking a seat in one of the chairs, observing as she did the same. “I’m going to cut to the chase, I know you, Mr. Bellan. I’ve read your files, studied the archived footage of battles you participated in and the security footage from the places you robbed from.”

Great start.

“I personally think defrosting you and bringing you here was a piss poor idea.” She took what seemed to be an exasperated sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. (And just where had he seen that quirk before?)

“Unfortunately, we’re currently in an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ situation and several of my colleagues are big believers in ‘redemption’ and ‘second chances’.” She used air quotes around the last bit.

“I take it you’re more cynical?” Valtor pointed out the obvious, giving a slight smirk. So she had turned out like her mother. “You don’t believe in second chances or redemption?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead. The way her eyes bore into his, the way her whole body seemed to tense. But she gave a smile, though it seemed more of a grimace. “Actually, I do believe in them. However such concepts only work if the subject is willing to attempt to do better. To be better. And you, Mr. Bellan, I don’t believe you can do it.”

“Tell me, do you still feel justified in what you did during The First War of Magic? The stealing, the murders, the sacrifices made to the Ancestral Coven? Do you have regret for destroying entire planets? Can you even feel remorse?”

Valtor crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. How dare- “We were in a war, things weren’t so cut and dry.”

“Even war has rules of engagement. The Ancestral Coven, you, disregarded all of them.”

“And I confessed my sins during my sentencing.”

“But did you feel regret for them?” Valtor huffed. “Exactly.” She shook her head, glancing down at a file in her hand.

His. “Honestly if the situation weren’t dire, I wouldn’t even be entertaining this idea.” She turned her gaze back to him. “But here we are.”

“Here we are.” He paused, something she said echoing in his mind. “Did… You say the First War of Magic? As in… There’s been others?” 

“We’re currently in what the press has dubbed The Second War of Magic.” She answered, glancing back to his file. “Which is why I was outvoted in bringing you here; my colleagues think that with your knowledge, you’d be a great asset to us, and of course, you’d be proving you can do good and be a productive member of society.”

Valtor frowned, his hands tapping along the table edge. “And why would I be of use? What happened after I surrendered?” What did he miss?

She paused, tapping on her files. “Long story short: the Company won The First War of Magic and there was a period of peace and restoration of what had been lost. However the Ancestral Witches apparently had a back-up plan in place and we are now, metaphorically speaking, in the eye of the storm.”

“And because I’m Their son, you think I can help figure out Their next moves and how to stop Them?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, can you? I mean, you said it yourself, you surrendered. You abandoned Them before the final battles, cast Them aside for a pedestal in a frozen wasteland. They may have changed everything about how They operate. But we are willing to take that chance on you.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean your colleagues?”

“Precisely.” She clasped her hands on the table, looking him in the eyes, “so, are you interested? Or am I right in thinking this was a waste of time?” Dragons, she looked like Griffin. His eyes and eye shape, but damn… Dammit.

“If I decide not to help, I go back to Omega, right?”

“If you refuse to help us, I’ll kill you where you sit.” She admitted. 

Valtor clenched his fists, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“If you don’t help us, which would mean being monitored and kept on a tight leash so you can’t go gallivanting off to wreak havoc on your own, you’ll be executed. Nothing personal-”

“Feels pretty damn personal!” He all but growled out. She glowered at him, raising one of her hands. 

The room’s temperature went up several degrees, sweat immediately breaking out over him as she narrowed her eyes. A warning.

He put his hands up in surrender as she lowered hers, the temperature going back to normal. “As I was saying; it’s not personal, but if we leave you in Omega, other Coven members may come to break you out. We can’t risk you rejoining your Mothers as Their favorite errand boy. There’s far too much on the line.”

“So what’s it going to be?”

[thelastsaiyanprincess]

hi! what’s your favorite dbz saga? i’m just curious! i think mine is the cell saga, mainly bc of gohan’s big moment but also because perfect cell had me about to act up LMAO

ohoho i'm SO glad you asked!!!!!

*inhales*

my FAVORITE sagas will always be the saiyan saga and the frieza saga. and that's because if you watch the series from the VERY beginning of the story, OG dragon ball, everything that happens during saiyan arc hits SO MUCH HARDER. in OGDB they establish the strongest earth warriors, all the training they've gone through, and how difficult it was for young goku to defeat all the villains! esp tien and piccolo, who were established as formidable foes! then when saiyan saga comes, we find out the reason kid goku was so OP was because he's a fucking ALIEN WARRIOR & his brother comes and basically solos everyone?! then when mf vegeta and nappa pull up the z fighters stand no chance, they drop one by one, the fighters we thought were the strongest just fucking DIE, and they couldn't just rely on using the dragon balls to bring everyone back because PICCOLO WAS GONE TOO. the stakes were SO MUCH HIGHER and mfs actually took shit seriously!!!

then ofc there's the frieza saga, which (in my humble opinion) is the BEST fight in all of dragon ball except for broly. frieza is also my fave dragon ball villain of all time. and i say that because again, stakes were high, we didn't fucking know if goku could defeat frieza for sure despite all the training, namek was ABOUT TO EXPLODE and these mfs are fighting for their damn lives, lightning exploding around them, magma splashing at their feet, EVERYTHING WAS SO FUCKING INTENSE AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN GOKU BECOMES SUPER SAIYAN???? theeee super saiyan legend??? that first transformation was COLD AF & nothing will ever compare to that!!!!

speaking of tranformations, thats one of the reasons i like early DBZ more than late dbz/dbs. no transformations, no colorful hair, no power ups, mfs had to rely on all their training and experience to win and the fights kept you on your toes because you truly did not know how things would play out.

oh and lastly another reason early DBZ rocks is because we get evil vegeta. he's bad af, killing like its nothing, solos young goku (&honestly he wouldve beaten him easily if goku's friends hadnt been there) and is just a ruthless fucking bastard. i'm so in love with him. he could snap my spine and i'd die smiling. redemption arc vegeta is cool too but saiyan/namek arc vegeta has my whole fucking heart.

UGH! i fucking love this show.

[allinmycorner]

It's the finale! Time to crown our winners and wrap up another amazing season!

Dancing With the Stars took over ABC's entire Tuesday night since many shows were already on hiatus for Thanksgiving. The first half-hour was a retrospective where the finalists were discussed by the judges who highlighted their strengths by replaying some of their past dances. They highlighted a lot of Disney Night dances, which made sense for Joey, Ilona and Danny. I'm not sure Stephen's Charleston from that night was one of the best to highlight him.

Thankfully they then played his Halloween contemporary, which was far better.

The main show featured the return of all the contestants for this past season, including Anna Delvey. So I guess the rumors she was banned were not true. They made some references to her famous "nothing" comment, of course. Jenn and Sasha danced along with Brooks and Gleb, the two couples rumored to come out of this season. Are Brooks and Gleb back together? Who knows? Who cares?

I enjoyed that they let Reginald…sway…in time to the Family Matters theme. It was a nice touch.

Derek got in one last dance, this time with his good friend Mark Ballas. They danced an Argentine tango together, revealing the dance was first performed by two men. So they were going back to its roots. It was a powerful performance and highlighted not only their talent but their friendship, showing that they are amazing partners.

As for the finalists, they first had a redemption dance - they were given a style they struggled with earlier in the season and had to dance it again but with a different song. And then came the freestyles where the sky is the limit. I'm going to combine my comments on both dances this time and I will start with the couple who came in fifth, finishing with the winners.

So who won Dancing With the Stars? Find out!

Danny and Witney: I'm glad Derek decided to give Danny and Witney a tango for their redemption dance. It's felt like more times than not, Witney relied heavily on tricks rather than dance moves. Not to say that they haven't pulled off some amazing moves but I wanted to just see Danny dance. He wasn't as smooth as the others but he at least got one last chance to show he had some talent with dancing. As for their freestyle, it was fun and Danny looks a lot like Ryan Gosling. He did struggle with some of the steps, especially at the end. This felt like he and Witney knew they weren't going to win so they decided to just have some fun before it was over, especially given the focus on Witney for the first twenty or thirty seconds of the dance.

Stephen and Rylee: Bruno worked with Stephen and Rylee on their redemption quickstep which showed how far Stephen came in this competition. He was on beat and his musicality really improved. Again, he looked more like he was leading rather than following Rylee. Stephen has really blossomed during this competition and again stole America's hearts. His freestyle featured his fellow gymnasts and really let him shine. I think Rylee made the right call to choreograph a contemporary routine. His Halloween contemporary was one of his best and this was right up there. He may not have taken home the mirrorball trophy but he was definitely a winner in our books. Also, how sweet was it that Lindsay was there in the skybox after their freestyle to congratulate and support them?

Chandler and Brandon: Chandler and Brandon received some guidance from Carrie Ann to help improve their jive, their redemption dance. And again, they went out there and killed it. It's been so much fun to watch her dance this season and I'm so glad she made it to the finals. This jive proved why she deserved to be there. So did her freestyle, a celebration of Black dancers starting with the Nicholas Brothers and including another tribute to Soul Train. They made history as the first Black couple to make it to the finals and even though they fell short of the mirrorball trophy, they definitely leave behind some timeless routines that will no doubt be honored in upcoming seasons.

Ilona and Alan: Unsurprisingly, Bruno assigned Ilona and Alan the jive for their redemption dance. She had some concerns given how poorly her last jive went but she pushed them aside and delivered a great jive. It really showed off her personality and her talent as well as her confidence. She showed some real growth this season and it's not a surprise she made it to second place. I think the audience really showed what they valued this season - growth over natural talent. Her freestyle was also a lot of fun and Ilona shone brighter than the pros, really showing herself off. I also loved her reaction to the picture of Alan dressed as a donkey. Someone really should burn that.

Joey and Jenna: Derek had Joey and Jenna dance the cha-cha as their redemption dance. And it definitely highlighted Joey's talent. He was constantly in motion and he handled the cha-cha content like a pro. It was a fun routine that really allowed him to show off his personality too. It's not a surprise he became the first Bachelor to win the mirrorball trophy. Like Ilona, he showed some real growth, seemed genuine and very down-to-earth, and had some talent. It made it very easy to root for him and Jenna as well as vote for them. As for their freestyle, it was fun and paid tribute to his first love - tennis - but I think he and Jenna could've gone even bigger. Out of all the freestyles, I remember this one the least. But it was still a good routine and he still walked away with the mirrorball, so I don't really think it matters in the end.

I know this is very late - over a month late. I didn't have the time to finish this but now that we're in the holidays, I finally can. So I can at least wrap up this season before 2025.

Thanks for reading my opinions this past season! I hope you have a wonderful New Year and I hopefully will see you for the next season of Dancing With the Stars!

[fluff-writing]

I haven't read Book of Prava so I can't see how the lore justifies her actions, but even if you take VoH's explanation Prava gives of "I didn't actually want to kill any of you initially plus it doesn't matter anymore" at face value, Prava still acts dickish and sometimes even downright villainous in the main storyline. To list a few of her offenses:

> Orders Vigo tortured and killed and enables the use of Father's Grace for most of the Cathedral army (which under customs of war would qualify as torture and gratuitous suffering)

> Personally tells you, the player that Rathma deserved to die and Inarius was completely and utterly justified in murde- uh I mean "it's not murder when daddy does it..." And there is 1 in 7 chance you are currently playing Necromancer...

> Sends her forces at Donan's request to Scosglen who do nothing but commit petty hate crimes on civilians, and when something that warrants their help (read: Astaroth) shows up, they just get outta here and are never mentioned again.

> Just straight up orders everyone in Caldeum killed and it is even implied Knights at Kor Valar were repeatedly taught every single person in Caldeum is demon-posessed.

> Tells Donan that she's glad his son died to his face

Based on all this, it was probably originally planned for her to become a villain at some point but as we know that didn't happen. So, how does current lore justify or at least explain Prava's jerkishness/villainy when the expansion insists she's the reasonable one in her faith?

I've been mulling this ask around for a minute now, and it's just making me tired and killing my motivation. Here you go.

Prava is a villain, and a morally grey character. She's Inarius's right hand, and the head of the Cathedral of Light, both of which have been pretty consistently presented as a villainous force. She's a fanatic who believes her God's word is complete truth. She also believes wholeheartedly that she is doing the right thing.

It's incredible what a human is capable of when they think it is correct and just.

Yeah, she's going through a character arc in her book. Prava was an extremely sheltered young woman who had been indoctrinated by fucking Inarius for most of her life. The guy who always hated humanity, and would've detonated the planet if he still could. Yeah, her views are going to be pretty harsh. They're supposed to be. You're not supposed to agree with her. The Cathedral is a mad angel's murder-cult posing as absolute good (and, unfortunately, is a better option than a lot of other things going on around Sanctuary). You might have an ally in her, if your goals align, and right now she's not interested in making more enemies so she's playing nice.

The difference between her and Urivar is that she's beginning to realize that there's more to the world than what she was taught, and more to humanity. She's making an attempt to learn and change, now that her god is dead and the army that she made was slaughtered around her. Urivar is burning people alive because they're weak, Prava is beginning to gather people together so that they can be strong together (sounds like some other mother we know.)

You're allowed to not like her.

I like her because she is flawed, and she has the potential to change her ways. You keep saying that the redemption arc fell flat, and I'm going to tell you that the redemption arc hasn't happened yet. It just started.

This is Diablo we're talking about though, so brace yourself for some inevitable disappointment.

Speaking of disappointment, I don't believe at all that it was planned for Prava to become a main villain that we fight, but I do think it's possible that Inarius was, at one point. DIV's development was weird as hell, with an entire prototype getting thrown out, and you can feel how clunky the resulting story is. Yeah the cinematic where Lilith kills him is incredible, but it really, really should have been a human that took him out for good.

It makes sense that the right hand of what could have been a main antagonist would do and say some despicable things.

[hells-greatestdad]

Adam beamed with genuine happiness. After years in Hell, and sacrificing himself to save Charlie, he had achieved redemption. He didn't look sick anymore.

The heavy bags under his eyes were gone, he wore rocker clothes rather than the robe he wore to hide himself. His mask was long gone.

Remnants of Hell on him were permanent, like the colors of his eyes and his longer black claw-like nails. But now, a new, almost seraphim-like halo hovered over his head, his wings were gold and blue-black with his feathers colored like a brilliant starry night. He just looked.....better. And for a good reason.

" Lu.....I'm gonna be a dad again."

It had been a while since he had seen Adam. Ever since Adam had died saving Charlie from the shenanigans of Vox and the Vees.

But then had come word from Heaven that Adam was redeemed. Word from Sera.

"You don't look half bad, Adam. Pretty damn good actually."

It was somewhat bittersweet as he and Adam had formed a friendship before the death. But more than that he's just happy Adam accomplished his goal and go to return to his significant other. He had spoke of her often.

"Sera had told me you made it up there. ....you've come a long way."

Lucifer could almost shed tears at all this. Maybe it shows on his face. Maybe not. He's trying to suppress that.

"I'm glad. You're finally getting a chance to be happy after all this time."

This means many things... obviously it's another step towards Charlie's project being made a reality. A huge one.

Lucifer had long given up hope on the situation in Hell ever improving. Which is why he had given up on helping the Sinner population centuries ago and switched gears entirely to protecting what he had.

It took a long time and losing much of what he had anyways before he learned to give things another try by supporting his daughter's efforts.

But Lucifer is also just genuinely happy for Adam. Having gotten to know Adam and learning the extent of traumas and hurt he had been dealt.... it's good that he is finally getting a break. Finally healing. Finally closer to the life he always wanted.

So Lucifer's heart is made lighter for all these reasons.

Maybe this is hope in this life after all.

[argentumcor]

A couple bits from Phantom Liberty and the game as I take my sweet time for replay and thoughts percolate:

I can't confirm, but I'm pretty sure Reed kills Jacob and Taylor if you manage to keep them alive until he gets to the hideout. You text him hoping they've got their reward, he says "they're taken care of" and we all know what that means. Slider tells you how Reed operates outright, and the Cassells unceremoniously (and pointlessly, they know not a damn thing) get zeroed. I think it was on his own initiative with J and T; Myers is not a good person, but she's far more...sympathetic to the value of random human life...when she has nothing to gain by disregarding it. And she has a certain sense of indebtedness and a vague fondness for the common gonk.

Reed, on the other hand, couldn't care less about people who are not his, and the mission comes before even them. He is very like Takemura, and both men are like who Johnny thought he wanted to be and was- less competently- at the end of his life.

I really like Alex as a character. She has done terrible things and she has deep regrets about them, but she's also learned to live with it. How much of this life she chose isn't clear and in a way her situation isn't different than Songbird's, as she was tricked or talked into working for the FIA after pursuing her passion. Her resilience is different than Songbird's, her determination and bitterness have different flavors, but there's a lot the same there. She wants hers after everything she has been through and she will do what she needs to get it. She has Reed figured out and while she is fond of him, I think she knows the limits of where she can trust him. It has not been an easy way to go through life.

I said earlier that Johnny must have been losing his shit when Songbird shut him up, but what's interesting is he's pretty chill about it when he shows back up, considering. Why? As he says he "Went to the same rave she did." He pities her. He knows better than anyone except Songbird herself just how not okay she is. Yet again, justifying delaying me starting PL until later in the game where Johnny goes from "asshole" to "good man with asshole tendencies". Early game Johnny would have sympathy for her but he's so selfish that his temper would have beat it out, but late game Johnny is, as Rogue comments, "a selfless Johnny Silverhand." She's not being trite, that's who he is now. Johnny's is a redemption arc.

V and Johnny have conferences about the PL situation and I love it. He's got the right sense of things and I think V would agree with him and not dig into him, especially after the Farewell Tour. I'm glad there's derogatory options if you were playing this earlier, though.

Man does he murder his basketball metaphor when you go to meet Reed, though. I think it's not understood how goofy Johnny is. V gets it though and is one of the few people in his entire life who is willing to play along ("is this a plug for the word corpo or do you have a point?") because V tells dumb jokes all the time, too. Most of his life, everyone took even being fun seriously and his anger, ego, and drug-induced mental illness (game might as well be a DARE ad, it runs down drug use so hard) strangled that part of him. But so much of that is irrelevant here in this strange second chance and the only person he can interact with is this goofy merc. I think Johnny would be happy to do shenanigans with V forever if he could by the third act.

I've been running Rogue's gigs alongside the PL stuff and they're...intermittently interesting. I feel some were meant to be fleshed out more mechanically and story-wise but weren't. The one where you get Nance's son's stuff back has a nice moment where Johnny says he remembers the recorded gig and that he had strained his vocal cords so bad he couldn't speak for a week. V: "Must have been nice to hear." Johnny: "What, the gig?" V: "You not speaking for a week." He just glares. It's great banter.

The "kid" stuff from him tones down in late game and in PL especially. I think Johnny starts to see V as his equal more.

[billyhargrovc]

When Steve was back to driving them onto the road, Billy was grateful for this. In fact he leaned his head against the coolness of the window because he helped with the light throbbing in his head. Headached - something he experienced constantly now. A day would never go by without one. Was it from the lack of rest? The cold? The lack of food? He didn't know, but it made itself a home now, within Billy - and a headache was much better than the thing that took over him completely.

He was listening, and when he took a peek at Steve, he could see just how much he had endured here as well. Physically and emotionally; God, he wanted to reach out, and comfort him. He wanted to reach out and tell him that things were going to be okay, becuase when Billy was tortured day in and out, that's all he wanted himself. His mother's embrace, her consoling words, just someone at his side to hold him. And yet, he couldn't reach out to Steve - because would things be better now?

"Thank you for looking after her. I always thought you and those boys were weird, but it makes sense now. I just wish you would have told me too." granted, Billy would have laughed at him, but it would have meant that the others trusted him enough to tell him, and maybe he'd get his head out of his own ass and help.

"--For what it's worth, i'm glad you escaped. I don't blame you for anything, I just wanted you to know this." He wasn't himself, and that night everything went horribly wrong as it is. It was his own doing, and Billy didn't fault anyone else for that.

"Besides, i'm here now, and i'm ready to help. I can kick ass, so you and the kids won't have to worry about anything." Maybe he can protect them, as a way to pay them back for protecting Max. Maybe this could be his redemption. Maybe a second chance.

Steve knew that feeling well, the feeling of needing to get the hell away. He didn't answer the prior question until they were back on the road with no real destination in mind. It was a very long story. "Max knew about a decent amount of things going on. About these creatures the Hawkins National Laboratory were working on. I don't know all the details but they come from that place...The Upside Down. Things keep getting out, slipping through the cracks." He started to explain, once again looking tired beyond his years. "While the kids, Jonathan, and Nancy were all dealing with that...Robin, Dustin, and I found out the Russians were helping. We snuck into their hideout. Robin and I got caught and drugged. The men there kept questioning us and beat the shit outta me thinking I had answers." Steve winced a little at the memory, as if that was enough in itself to make the pain of it come back. "Thanks to the kids, Robin and I made it out. But by the time we made it to the mall to try and stop you. To try and help...It was already all in motion. If not I might have been able to actually help you."

[finniestoncrane]

The riddlers reacting after reader told them she is pregnant?

Pregnant!Reader

Riddler Headcanons at least a few of them would have the same terrified reaction as me so that's a plus lmao request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: pregnancy, adoption, child slandering lmao, abortions, this is a pro-choice place i don't care if you had an abortion just to say you had one it's still a valid reason fuckers 💖

capullo

hmmmmm shooting loads into you bareback was definitely going to come back around to haunt him eventually

hopefully you're on the same wavelength as him: no babies

you get an appointment to terminate, he'll make one for a vasectomy right now right this minute

under no circumstances is he giving up fucking

but this was a close call, and he won't have that again

if you have some stupid baby to look after

then you won't be able to pay as much attention to him

and he should be the most important person in your life

arkham

sure. his robot children were enough for a while but he's past it

someone to carry on his legacy might be nice

an heir to his future empire, and his current...sewer domain

it's a redemption arc, a puzzle to be solved:

how do you raise the perfect child

because god knows he could have been so much more had his parents not been absolutely useless and cruel

he, however, will achieve it certainly

edward nigma, genius, super villain, best dad in the world

gotham

get ready for the most irritating 9 months of your life

because he will learn at least 100 new facts every day

as well as the ones he already knew

and will not stop telling you them, even when they make you a bit nervous or uncomfortable

but it's biological, so you should be prepared

and he'll be there to hold your hand and comfort you

as long as you promise not to let the kid be sporty

he wants a little mini-him to play video games with

and commit arson with too

twojar

ok this is weird but he feels strangely...accomplished? proud?

this is an achievement right? it's normal to feel this good?

a whole little person who will hopefully take after him

someone to scheme with

someone to appreciate his puzzles

a little re-headed minion to come home to that will idolise him

excellent, what a statement of his manhood

plus, there's something about domesticity that might make him seem more wholesome

or at least might trick his adversaries into thinking he's weakened, giving him the perfect opening to brutalise them

young justice

huh, ok he's not as stressed as he thought he might be

but now isn't the best time

he's glad though, because he didn't know there was a right time

so the idea of doing this in the future isn't off the table

but he's so young and so...not pathetic just...

he's not strong or accomplished enough yet in his own goals

maybe in the future when he can stand up to children

then he can consider having one in his own home

dano

uh oh he's crying!

because now he has the chance to give someone the childhood he didn't get to have

he can be a good dad, a super dad

and he'll always have a friend because kids can't leave

until they can walk...but his kid will like him right?

oh the insecurities are mounting, but he's still pleased

and he can get to work right away on planning everything

how are we feeling about puzzle themed names??

telltale

he is way past dad age

if you're not his s/o he'll gladly take on the role of supportive uncle

or grandparent more like

if you are his s/o then get ready to have a serious conversation

because that little monster is not being raised by him

and if you decide to put it up for adoption

god help the poor people who raise another riddler

it really took it out of his parents

unburied

"but i'm baby"

would absolutely throw a fit

he's far too busy with his scheming and riddling to be a dad

not to mention he's not necessarily the nurturing type

unless you want to raise another little psychopath

under any other circumstances cheating would annoy him

but please god let there be a chance this baby isn't his