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words-after-midnight · 7 months

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Writeblr (re-)Introduction | words-after-midnight

Hi, I'm Nico (he/him)! I'm a 32-year-old Tio'tia:ke (Montreal)-based writer of crime fiction (mostly thrillers), literary fiction, and horror, as well as the occasional poem.

Current WIPs

🌙 LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE | Psychological thriller

[GIRL ON THE TRAIN x THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS (Nemerever)] A troubled young man attempts to overcome a dark, growing obsession with his estranged former lover after the twisted relationship that uprooted his life is catastrophically interrupted.

Status: Line edit, preparing to query. Tags: #libaw, #call it midnight (inspo reblogs) WIP intro // Excerpt // Playlist // Moodboard

💀 THE DOTTED LINE | Psychological horror

[A CLOCKWORK ORANGE x SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION] A young inmate nicknamed after an Al Pacino movie navigates the chaotic, dangerous world of a medium security American prison while plotting his escape.

Status: Drafting (slowly and intermittently) Tags: #tdl, #the jungle (inspo reblogs) WIP intro // Playlist // Moodboard (cw: gore)

(More under the cut!)

🔵 SUPERNOVA | Dystopian/Speculative

[FRANKENSTEIN x BREAKING BAD] What if you held the key to the Earth’s salvation… and its potential destruction? An eccentric chemistry professor's PhD students decide to investigate her rumored discovery of a highly dangerous theoretical compound, and inadvertently ignite the spark to an unstoppable chain reaction of passion and pride, power and corruption, and unintended consequences they never could have anticipated.

Status: Pre-production (outline/zero draft) Tags: #sn, #hexa (inspo reblogs) WIP intro

Additional notes

I do not maintain any WIP taglists at this time. You can follow/track my project-specific tags if you want updates on them.

I am open to critique/constructive criticism on any snippets/excerpts I post, for any WIP, unless otherwise specified.

Ask/tag game friendly (but please note that I'm very busy and may take a while to answer)

I'm okay with minors following me, but please be mindful of the fact that my work is written primarily for an adult audience and you will be blocked if you interact with any post tagged #minors DNI.

You should not follow me if you're uncomfortable with fiction that addresses dark (ie. potentially triggering) topics. This being said, I always provide content warnings as needed.

#writeblr #writblr #writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #contemporary fiction #crime fiction #horror #thriller

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cozycoffeereads · 1 year

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Hi Booklr!

My name is Bailey, I'm in my late 20s, a lit major, and a bibliophile. I just created this Tumblr dedicated to my reading journey and love of books, poetry, art, and aesthetics. Last year I read 58 books, for this year's reading challenge I plan to read at least 52 books and hopefully break last year's record. Join me on my journey of reading. I will post updates, reviews, and hauls.

Genres I read: Fantasy, thriller, mystery, contemporary fiction, horror, and non-fiction books (such as history, anthropology, and science books.) Occasionally: sci-fi and historical fiction books.

Some bonus things I enjoy: dark academia aesthetic, goth aesthetic, video games, cozy aesthetic, fashion, journalling, studying, world-building, writing, and makeup.

Reblog if you have any of these things in common on your blog. I'm looking for more people to follow. If you follow me, I'll follow back as well. Wanting to build my community. :)

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tagithi · 10 months

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heaven by mieko kawakami

#missing them so much #mieko kawakami #contemporary fiction #asian literature #heaven #breasts and eggs #quotes #book aesthetic

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mangotalkies · 11 months

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breakfast with a man called ove + a new ceramic bowl i'm in love with

three chapters in, i was finding so many similarities between ove and my grandfather. the stringent adherence to routine, fierce independence and the uncompromising opinion on 'the right way to do things'

just got through the chapter with ove and his father, and i think it will be one of my most favourite chapters of this book. i have an unending affinity for reading about the slow, brewing process of love languages being formed; especially for familial or found family relationships.

overall, a funny read till now; looking forward to the upcoming chapters 🐈

#a man called ove #fredrik backman #bookblr #fiction reads #light academia #feel good books #contemporary fiction #literary fiction #bookstagram #desiblr #studyblr #booklr #breakfast cereal #books and reading #booksbooksbooks

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the-andromeda-effect · 25 days

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TW - abuse mention, violence mention, injury mention, mental trauma, ptsd

Caliban had taken many women to his bed the first night he’d met them, and that was the only night they’d spent together. Some he’d dated for a while before becoming sexual. None of those had ever brought about the conflict that he currently felt with Adira as she returned to the bathroom to finish changing. It was not that there was not the physical desire for her, or that he knew that it would be far more than one night with her, but rather that the physical was so far less important at the moment than making sure that she felt safe and secure mentally and emotionally. The other could wait, and he would wait, because he knew how wounded she was in all ways. He did not want to add to that in any way; certainly not if there was a chance of losing the way she looked at him by rushing or pushing for anything. Whenever her eyes and his met, there was something that he could not describe within them, something that awoke a part of him that hadn’t been touched before, and he was finding he liked it.

When Adira was once more behind a closed door, she leaned against it, holding the PJ pants to her as her heart thudded within her chest. She had no idea what had made her so bold as to walk over to Caliban like that and just assume he would welcome her touch upon his bare skin and her help in disrobing. It hadn’t been until she had actually been in the act of doing it that her brain had kicked in. By then it had been too late and the only thing she felt she could do was continue, and now she was thankful that she had. Just his initial response of covering her forearms and hands with his own had almost made her knees give way in relief and also a warm and safe sensation that had flooded her whole body. She craved him in a way that she had never craved Mircea, in a way that she couldn’t even put into words. It wasn't blind lust, it was something deeper.

From the day that she had met Mircea, she had known that they would be married. It was why her father had introduced them. Also from that day, she had alway tried to garner his approval, to please him, to make him proud, to elicit praise. He had at least pretended in the beginning to be somewhat fond of her and that her efforts were more than enough. The lack of overt affection understandable due to theirs being an arranged marriage, but it was one he seemed to desire, something that still confused her with how things eventually went. However, the longer their relationship went, the more it was obvious that she was not who he wanted and that her efforts would never achieve the results that she hoped for. She had still tried, no matter how many times she failed to live up to standards he seemed to change on a whim. Up until the day she had been kidnapped, she had relentlessly tried.

Caliban was completely different from Mircea in every conceivable way. One could say that their marriage was no less arranged than hers with Mircea had been. It was not built on love, but an agreement to provide for her and keep her safe. The difference was that even in the beginning of her relationship with Mircea she had not felt as safe and secure with him, nor had she felt as accepted. Then there was something about the way that she felt when she was held in Caliban’s arms, the way just his voice calmed any fear or anxiety in her, the look in his eyes when he looked at her, his gentle and soothing touch when she was upset or hurting - it was all so new to her; at the same time, it was like what she had always been looking for in the past, but never found.

It was in wondering how he had not found a wife previously, with everything he had already shown her of who he was, that Adira came upon the thought that made her stomach turn: what if there were other women he was in a relationship with when he had saved her? Could she do that again? Could her heart take other women also being in a relationship from someone other than Mircea? If there were, could she even do a fake marriage? Her breath caught and her heart burned at the thought.

By the time that Adira finally opened the door again, Caliban had started to worry if things were okay with her. The room had been too quiet, and she had seemed to be in there too long. He had to keep reminding himself not to rush her. Patience was never one of his virtues, but he knew that if he wanted to unwrap the delicate gift that was the true nature of the woman he now called his wife, he was going to have to learn some. There was something about her that made him confident that whatever new skills he might have to learn or test he might feel like he was enduring, in the end, it would be worth it.

“Is everything alright?” He finally asked as she silently crossed over to the bed and began to place her jeans in the bag that he had brought up for her. She hadn’t looked at him when she came out of the bathroom, nor even when he spoke to her, and this concerned him. Before she’d gone back in, they’d once again been affectionate with one another and she’d seemed to be relaxing. Had she had another panic attack of sorts?

Still not looking at him, Adira’s voice came out soft and stuttered, “I hadn’t thought to ask before if…” She paused, gathering the courage to say what had come to her mind as she realized how much she was attracted to Caliban. It was as if the question was stuck in her throat, refusing to come out. There was a fear of hearing the answer once it did.

“If what, sweetheart?” Calban asked cautiously, as head cantered. He had heard the hesitation and nerves in her voice. He pushed off of the dresser he’d been leaning against to walk over to her. There was definitely something wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what could have changed in just a few minutes.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her head still bowed as if looking down into her bag. “If you had…someone you were with..you know, when you..we...” As she let her breath out, she steeled herself for the answer. Her hands had balled to fists around the clothing she was holding, as if that would somehow protect her from the answer hurting her. She had known many men who would be with multiple women simultaneously. It wasn’t like she was naive to the way the world of rich and powerful men who looked like him operated. Even those who were married often had more than one girlfriend on the side besides their wife. This was often the life wives of family heads led.

So that was the issue that had suddenly come to bother her. The tension Caliban had been feeling waiting to hear what had upset her faded instantly. He was glad her back was to him because he could not keep the devilish smirk off of his face. Not that he was laughing at her, far from it; no, he was delighted that the beauty was concerned that she might have competition for his affection. To him that meant that she too was starting to feel something for him in the same way he was for her. Otherwise she wouldn’t care if he was in a relationship with someone else while being fake married to her. Being fake married to Adira seemed to get better every time he turned around, and now he was going to have at least two weeks secluded with her in a mountain cabin. Who knew what could happen then?

“And it would bother you if I did?” The shaky inhale of breath after his question gave him his answer, just before his arms wrapped around her from behind. She couldn't hide the slight tremble in her body from him, a tremble that he hoped his next words would quell. Placing his chin on her shoulder, he let his warm breath fan across her neck with his next words, “my darling wife, if there had been, the moment I slipped that ring on your finger they no longer existed.” He gently kissed the crook of her neck and continued, “there is now, and from now on always will be, only you, unless it is you who wants things otherwise between us.” Caliban was never one to share a woman, nor did he expect a woman to share him.

As much as his words comforted her, she also felt like they were too good to be real. “Are you sure that you can be happy that way?” Adira was afraid to even hope, even if she prayed, to a god she had long since stopped believing in, that it was true. She was under no illusion that Mircea had ever been faithful in their marriage, even from the beginning. He’d always blamed her; of course it was her failure as a wife that led him to have to find others.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He kept his chin on her shoulder and laced his fingers with hers now that she’d covered his hands with her own. Every time he thought he’d figured out how much damage that Mircea had done, something more was revealed. There was no doubt the coming days and weeks would reveal more, and he would try his best never to repeat those wounds. If he could, he would instead heal them.

“Well,I…I don’t know. I just know that no matter what I tried, I was never enough for Mi-” Suddenly Caliban’s hand was over her mouth, cutting her off as she felt herself fully pulled back against him. Her eyes closed, her breathing stilled, and she waited for the pain. Pain always came after the wrong things were said. Hopefully Caliban would not be as brutal as Mircea had been. She still ached from being dragged by Kondrat and the abuse in that basement.

banners by: @cafekitsune

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that-one-girls-blog-posts · 4 months

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reading bunny was beginning : smut salon would be so fun, end: I think I'm going to cry over mud and the deeply symbolic fever dream inbetween

#aa #reader #fiction #contemporary fiction #novel #bunny #mona awad #smut salon #female rage #female hysteria #bunny novel #girlblogging #otessa moshfegh #girl interrupted #virgin suicides #sofia coppola #coquette #dollete #female writers

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belle-keys · 2 months

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Superior Subgenre: Race Satire by WOC

Here are my recommendations for satirical contemporary books by women of colour about racial fetishization and white neoliberals. Highly recommend these three books if you want to laugh, introspect, and marinate on how American society and institutions are being cooked by the culture war.

#the laughter is my favourite of the three btw #satire #yellowface #rf kuang #disorientation #elain hsieh chou #the laughter #sonora jha #litfic #literary fiction #contemporary fiction #dark humor #book recommendations #book recs #woc writers #asian representation #book blog #books #academia

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readtilyoudie · 11 months

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Michael: Aw, Lilly, you’re just jealous.

Lilly: I am not!

Michael: Yes, you are. You’re jealous because she got her hair cut without consulting you. You’re jealous because you stopped talking to her and she went out and got a new friend. And you’re jealous because all this time Mia’s had this secret she didn’t tell you.

Lilly: Michael, SHUT UP!

Boris: (leaning out of the supply closet door) Lilly? Did you say something?

Lilly: I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU, BORIS!

Boris: Sorry. (goes back into closet)

Lilly: (really mad now) Gosh, Michael, you sure are quick to come to Mia’s defense all of a sudden. I wonder if maybe it ever occurred to you that your argument, while ostensibly based on logic, might have less intellectual than libidinous roots.

Michael: (turning red for some reason) Well, what about your persecution of the Hos? Is that rooted in intellectual reasoning? Or is it more an example of vanity run amok?

Lilly: That’s a circular argument.

Michael: It isn’t. It’s empirical.

Wow. Michael and Lilly are so smart. Grandmère’s right: I need to improve my vocabulary.

Michael: (to me) So does this guy (he pointed at Lars) have to follow you around everywhere from now on?

Me: Yes.

Michael: Really? Everywhere?

Me: Everywhere except the ladies’ room. Then he waits outside.

Michael: What if you were to go on a date? Like to the Cultural Diversity Dance this weekend?

- The Princess Diaries (The Princess Diaries, #1) by Meg Cabot

#book quote #the princess diaries #meg cabot #mia thermopolis #lilly moscovitz #michael moscovitz #ya romance #contemporary fiction #quote #quotes #booklr #bookblr

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magical-mistakes-vm · 2 months

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TW - physical violence description, violence against women, choking, abuse, physical harm, injury

Vollrath, Elmar, & Baldur discover what happened to Mahala when she was alone in the office with Jonathan...

Before he sat down at his desk, Vollrath took a bottle of water over to Mahala, who told him she was now just feeling tired. Baldur and Elmar watched as he said something softly to her and kissed her forehead, then closed his suit jacket over her again. During it all, she hadn’t moved. Jonathan was lucky she was alive, they were both sure. Vollrath was never gentle with anything, yet he was handling her like she was made of the most fragile mercury glass. There was a look on his face, when he looked at her, that they had never seen before. Since both had known him since they were all children, that told them a lot about what was going on with him. Neither had a doubt now that she WAS the Lioness. “Okay, let’s see what really happened in here.” Vollrath said as he took a seat in his office chair, and letting out a heavy sigh. Baldur and Elmar grabbed chairs from the still overturned conference table and rolled them over, sitting so they could see too. None of them were particularly looking forward to having to watch her be attacked, but they all had to know what happened before the Council meeting. So, Vollrath hit play on the downloaded video, and they all waited.

They watched as the recording showed the three of them leaving, then Mahala unsteadily making her way to the bathroom. The heavy exhale from Vollrath had his two friends looking over at him, a bit nervously. He was obviously still upset at the way she had staggered as if drunk, leftover side effects of his anger. The guilt on his face was an unusual sight, and was one more clue that there was definitely something going on between Vollrath and Mahala that they had never witnessed before between him and another woman. He was now holding his chin in his hand, obviously tense already and nothing had happened; they hoped that when it did, he would be able to contain it.

It was shortly after that point in the video when Jonathan entered the frame. He sat down what looked like some reports on Vollrath’s desk, as he said he had. Then he seemed to be looking for something on the desk, moving some files and looking through others. There was some more shuffling of papers that were randomly on the desk until he froze, that was when the door to the private office bathroom opened and Mahala exited, still a little shaky and with a hand to her temple. The audio hadn't been downloaded but from the gestures, there had been some kind of conversation about who she was. The fact she had on Vollrath’s suit jacket apparently did not make it obvious she was somehow connected to him. Jonathan’s head started shaking and he grabbed both of Mahala’s upper arms and slammed her into the wall. There was a slight crack as Vollrath had a death grip on the arms of his office chair, and something plastic had broken. “Easy big guy, look over there. She’s fallen asleep, nice and easy. She’s fine.” Elmar tried to reassure his friend, keeping his voice calm. Or maybe he was reassuring himself, he was no less enraged. The devastation in the room, and the way he’d just seen Jonathan handle the woman, concerned him, a lot.

The video continued on to her trying to get away, obviously saying something. Mahala was once again slammed into the wall, then Jonathan had let go of one of her arms to choke her. There was about 5 seconds of that, with all three of them growing increasingly tense and enraged, and they watched as she put her hands on Jonathan’s chest and shoved once, and the second time it was like the room exploded in a white light. When the camera focused once more, the room was how they had found it when they rushed in.

“How did she do that?” Baldur asked incredulously. If she was untrained as Vollrath had said, how could she have commanded that much power into someone else? He was still staring at the screen where Vollrath had frozen it, trying to wrap his head around what he’d just seen. Nothing was making sense.

“She is untrained, she was terrified, and she probably didn’t mean to. Think about it. Her mind would have been focused on getting him away from her. She’s been in the company of the three of us this morning for a while. Three powerful warlocks, one being the Master of a whole Coven. It is going to call to her dormant powers, which are damn strong, Bal. Depending how much time she spent with Vol last night, could be a damn strong pull by now. Not to mention whatever residual magic was floating around from Vol losing his temper over jealousy, and then having to help her feel better.” Elmar laid out everything he was thinking. He waited for Vollrath or Baldur to correct him if he got something wrong.

“She slept in my arms on my couch last night.” Vollrath caught both of them raising their brows as they looked at him. “You can judge for yourselves our level of affection and how close we were. So, with the two of you both around her this morning, I’m sure that Elmar is correct. Which is why her training has to start immediately. It saved her life, but she could hurt someone on accident as well.” He looked at the two of them in turn before scrubbing a hand over his face and up into his hair.

Baldur considered it all. “She definitely shouldn’t be alone. Elmar or I should stay with her during the Council meeting tonight. You have to talk to them. The video will speak for itself, I’ll call down to security to have them get us a copy with audio. We need to protect her till you leave for your cabin with her. She doesn’t seem the kind to attack someone else, but Jonathan has friends that might not listen to the truth. Another incident like this one, even with provocation and you know that someone will be out for blood.”

Elmar nodded in agreement. She also needed to be protected from anyone that Jonathan might know that would seek retribution. She had not acted wrong, but others might not see that. “I’ll stay with her. Bal, you figured out what was wrong first. You can speak to the bruises we saw. If they want to hear from me, they can send you or Vol in. I can’t add much that you two wouldn’t be better for. But if they come for her, they aren’t going to fare well.” His tone and expression were serious. There were times that he didn’t trust the Council and this was one.

“El, don’t start a fight where there isn’t one.” Baldur warned. He knew exactly why he felt that way. “Vol and I got this. No one is going to come for her. This isn’t the same situation as your sister.” The growl that came from Elmar told him that he might have stepped on a nerve he shouldn’t have, but he didn’t flinch. “It’s not. Neither Vol or I are going to let them come for her. You just keep her company and make her tea, if she needs it, with some lemon. Her throat has got to be killing her.” He glanced in her direction, concern evident across his face.

“NO. ONE. is going to come for her.” Vollrath stated absolutely. “We are not going to mention the level of familiarity between her and I, nor that she spent last night in my company. She came here this morning to meet with the three of us after I confronted her on my property last night preparing to do a ritual she is not trained in. I convinced her to hear the three of us out about her abilities, and the ritual she clearly did not understand. That is all that they need to know. Or do you gentlemen feel differently?” Vollrath looked at both of them, as they agreed with him. He too knew the Council often stopped listening when they heard something that they thought was the “real story”, and were wrong. Limiting the story to just what happened in his office would prevent that. “How do we explain her having your jacket?” Elmar asked. That was the only flaw he could see in the explanation that Vollrath was suggesting. “Everyone knows Vol’s temper. She wasn’t understanding and accepting what was being said, and he started to lose his temper out of frustration. She didn’t know about shielding and he didn’t think about that. He caused her to pass out. We’ll leave out the real reason: she didn’t understand that you and I were flirting with her just to piss off the big guy, and Vol was actually jealous and about to hit one of us.” Baldur gave a tight smile. Not one of any of their finer moments and he would be happy to leave it out from anyone ever hearing about it.

“Yes, that would be the better explanation for that. And we WERE making her tea so you both could tell me what an asshole I am, and how I need to control my temper. So, it’s not like they will question that.” Vollrath sighed. He still felt guilty about that, and now more so that she had been hurt when he left her alone in the office.

banners by @cafekitsune

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haveyoureadthistransbook · 4 days

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Welcome to Dorley Hall by Alyson Greaves

goodreads

Mark Vogel is like the older brother Stefan Riley never had, until one day he disappears, and Stefan has to adapt to life without him. But, one year later, when he runs into a girl who looks near-identical to Mark, Stefan becomes obsessed. He discovers that other boys have disappeared, too, dozens over the years, most of them students of the Royal College of Saint Almsworth, many of them troubled or unruly before their disappearance.

What is happening to these boys? Who are the handful of women on campus who bear a striking resemblance to some of those who went missing? And what is the connection to the mysterious Dorley Hall?

Stefan works hard to get into the Royal College for one reason and one reason only: to find out exactly what happened to the women who live at Dorley Hall, and to get it to happen to him, too.

A closeted trans girl attempts to infiltrate a secret underground forced feminisation programme.

Mod opinion: I haven't read this book yet, but I got it in a trans book sale a year ago and I'm excited to check it out.

#welcome to dorley hall #alyson greaves #trans books #trans lit #trans literature #lgbt books #lgbt lit #lgbt literature #trans woman #own voices #mystery #contemporary fiction #to read

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desdasiwrites · 5 months

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– Satoshi Yagisawa, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop

#book quote of the day #satoshi yagisawa #days at the morisaki bookshop #breakups #books about books #japanese author #contemporary fiction #romance #short reads #book recommendations

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amayadartan · 2 months

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We find out what happened back in Amaya's room when Dartan provoked Arioch....

In the infirmary, Amaya had been resting comfortably in her new, lush accommodations while Olly was getting her breakfast. A light sleep had almost overtaken her when her body suddenly felt on fire, especially her neck and throat. Pain lanced through her and stole her breath. It felt as if she was being impaled, but as her eyes searched the room, she saw nothing and no one around her. The scream that was rent from her body echoed off of the stone walls and was carried to the ears of not only Olly, but also down the hall to the lab of Arch and Cruz, who had been visiting with him.

All three instantly knew who it was and traced to the room, dropping what they had been doing. The sight that met them had all three men's hearts stopping, there was obviously something seriously wrong. A light sweat was on her brow, her eyes had rolled back, and she was fisting the sheets next to her. Both of the wee chinchilla creatures at first had bared their teeth at the men, before relaxing once recognition set in and starting to chirp worriedly while hopping up and down.

"Is it more of the mushrooms?" Olly asked Arch who quickly began to examine her. Concern lined both men's faces, and while Olly was normally the fairer of the two, both currently appeared ashen with worry.

"No, I need Abriella." Arch looked to Cruz who instantly disappeared. While theoretically both siblings had the same healing powers, Abriella was far more proficient at it, and if things went badly she was the most powerful necromancer in all of creation. He was hoping that it didn’t come to that, however. "There is something mystical at work, and I do not know how to counteract it." The dark mage's piercing blue eyes rose from looking at his patient to meet the troubled ones of Olly.

"What do you need me to do?" Olly asked. “Just tell me." There was little the Horseman of Conquest wouldn't have done to relieve Amaya of the suffering she was so obviously enduring. Since lifting her off of the forest floor, he had found himself with a certain fondness for the small female, who was unfortunately all too human at the moment.

"Find me that damn spectre." Abriella’s voice was calm, eerily so, and carried the regal authority of her position. When the men looked over, her eyes had gone to a swirling silver, an indication she had tapped into powers far above those of the Horsemen. As she walked over towards Amaya, Olly disappeared to locate Dartan. He didn't know where the spectre was exactly, but he had a few ideas where to start.

Cruz and Arch could do nothing but watch as Abriella walked over, placing her hand on Amaya's forehead. The female immediately went limp and was quiet on the bed. "Whatever is ailing her is tied to the spectre. I have cut her off from him only temporarily. We need to break this spell. Then I’d like to torture him for a century or two, if no one is opposed." When she turned to face the men, her eyes had returned to normal and there was a sardonic smile on her lips. There was little doubt she was still highly annoyed.

"About that,' Arch started, "I've made some progress in deciphering the spell almost completely, and I think I know what happened and why. But, if I am right, breaking it is not going to be anything other than something that the two of them can do." He sighed heavily. It had been what he and Cruz were working on when Amaya had screamed. The information they had received from Dartan was enough for Arch to research into antiquity and lost languages, then draw some conclusions.

"Whatever it is that’s fucked up, I'd say we blame this asshole for it." Olly unceremoniously tossed Dartan, still with the front of his shirt covered in his own blood, through the doorway and into the room. "This jackass picked a fight with Arioch, and he was not winning when I showed up." There was no doubt that Olly was pissed, from both the look on his face and the sound of his voice. It was only the fact that he now knew that whatever was done to the prick wound impact Amaya that stilled his hand from delivering more pain to the spectre.

When Dartan opened his mouth to respond, Cruz pushed off of the wall to tower over him. His voice was deep, and while not loud, it still echoed off the walls around him. The Palace knew how to make a statement using acoustics when it wanted to. "I dost think it twould be most prudent for you to keep your mouth shut unless you would like one to shut it quite forcefully for you." The glare that Cruz was giving Dartan made everyone else a little uneasy, and they were glad that Amaya was in the room; otherwise violence might have commenced. Not that anyone would have blamed Cruz for flattening Dartan.

"So I don't have to hear the sound of his voice, fill me in on what happened. As much as you know." Abriella asked of Olly, glancing over to her brother who was currently seeming to keep Dartan quiet and still, by pure intimidation. It was, after all, one of Cruz’s specialties. She literally adored him for it, amongst other things.

"He demanded to see Amaya, was told no, and decided to act like an entitled prick till Arioch impaled him on his claws," Arch winced at Olly's words, "then the demon started eviscerating him." Olly glanced over to Amaya, who was now still. "Is that what happened to her?" It was clear that the Horseman of Conquest was clearly disturbed by that thought.

Abriella began examining Amaya gently and carefully. Whatever the poor human had gone through, it had obviously been traumatic, she didn't want to add any more hurt to the other female. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of breathing and the occasional worried chirp of one of the furry beings. Olly was now holding one and Arch the other. It seemed best to keep them out of Abriella’s way until she was done with the healing.

"Bruises on the neck and abdomen, internal hemorrhage, and acute anemia. Yes, she suffered the same as him." Abriella finally announced, which made Cruz growl and Dartan wither. "I've repaired everything but this is a setback." She sighed and turned to Dartan. "So, what exactly do you have to say for yourself? And keep it brief, if you wax on poetic, or in some kind of monologue, I will bind your voice and make you learn sign language, you odiferous stump of a slug’s tail.”

For a minute, Dartan’s gaze alternated between Abriella, Cruz, and Amaya. Guilt boiled and bubbled in his gut, as he tried to find the right words to explain, as well as the courage to do so. While enduring the pain has not been anything remotely akin to pleasant, it could have killed Amaya. All because he challenged the demon in the hallway out of anger. In wanting to see her, he once more caused her harm.

“I wanted to see my wife." Dartan finally answered, his eyes now cast to the floor he was sitting on. There was no fight left in his voice; he was obviously defeated.

""Your what?!" Olly, Arch, and Abriella asked in unison. All were incredulous that NOW he referred to her as such. Abriella felt a twitch in one eye and wondered if she could still get migraines as a diety.

"She art your wife, as the snow dost belong to the mountains. That hapinstance did curse her with falling into your life, dost not make her yours. Hast you not done enough harm to one who did none to you? What crime hast she committed to you for you to punish her so?" Cruz’s deep voice seemed to fill the room as he spoke, anger growing with each syllable that vibrated through the ether. As he looked to Dartan for an answer, the other male could almost swear he could see flashes of lightning in the large male's pupils that were surrounded by deep blue irises; and he was afraid. Dartan was not the first to feel such fear, but he might be the one to live the longest after experiencing such, solely based on the fact obliterating him would most likely do likewise to Amaya, and none wanted to do her further harm.

Once more Dartan’s eyes fell to the floor. He was a proud male, but at the moment he was also a deeply ashamed one. Never one to be considered "good", he had also never caused such harm to an innocent person as he had to Amaya twice in less than twenty-four hours. Worse yet, he could not even come up with a good explanation WHY he had insisted on seeing her to the point of driving Arioch to violence. Cruz, in his archaic way of phrasing, was right. Amaya didn’t belong to him and they were the farthest thing from a traditional married couple in any concept of it.

"I know what I said," Dartan started, then sighed deeply, "and I know what I've done. I was mean to her verbally," he looked up and met Cruz’s intense gaze that had not wavered, "but I did not intentionally set out to hurt, or lose, her yesterday. I had no idea my fight with your demon would do it today." Once more he sighed and ran his fingers through his thick black hair that has a few random threads of silver. "I can not explain it to you in a way that will make sense, but I needed to see her. It felt like…" he struggled to find the phrasing that would fit.

"Like there was an integral part of you missing, and the longer you were apart, the harder it was to breathe. It was like you were starving, and Arioch got in the way of you getting to the kitchen when you could smell dinner cooking." Now all eyes turned to look at Arch as he completed Dartan’s explanation, which it was clear from the spectre's stunned expression was all too accurate. What did the mage know? More importantly, what did this mean for Amaya?

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