#Instead of just plain killing him she actively trys to help him

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

Talking about the witch again because I love her

The Witch makes for a wonderful parrell to John and his goal of becoming human and I dont think its talked about enough

The Witch points out in her episode that John has this very hopeful and idealised view of humanity. Its where the Witch makes for a gorgeous parallel to him for where he has seen what he deems the best humanity has to offer. the Witch has seen and experienced the worst. While John has through Arthurs eyes seen some of the terrible things that humans can do ie Larson or The Butcher. John has never actually experienced this having only been able to watch (this is also an interesting point for Johns lack of autonomy and how it affects his worldview). Plus the horrors always are there doing something worse compared to humans.

The Witch also has a point when she says that his act was no sacrifice, while we the listener knows that John and The King are different John did introduce himself to her as The King. For all The Witch knows he did nothing and claims it to be an act of self sacrifice.

The Witch does not view humanity highly and has no desire to be part of it due to her considerable trauma at the hands of humans, so when she attempts John from Arthur she belives herself doing the King as John claims to be a favour. Since logically he should be able to return to his kingdom once he is no longer attached to the mortal. This is logical to her because she doesnt know that he is a fractured part of The King.

The both of them are opposites of the same coin. One is an entity trying to become human and the other a human trying to be anything but. Both try to change the others mind trying to save the other in their own way.

[wishful-thinking64]

One Hell of an Unpopular Opinion #08

Two out of the three Hispanic characters in Hazbin Hotel are deeply rooted damaging stereotypes within Spanish & Latin American cultures and the one that isn't a blatant stereotype is misused. ___________

With Spanish Heritage Month right around the corner and being a Latina myself, I think it's more than fair for me to give my thoughts on the Latinos (in Spanish, it doesn't matter if there's only one guy in a primarily female group, you have to put Latinos) in HH. Let's start off with the least offensive out of the group, Carmilla Carmine.

We're introduced to her in Scrambled Eggs which is Episode #03 of HH. She invited each of the Overlords to a meeting to speak about how brutal this year's Extermination was and what they could do going forward. During said meeting, Velvette throws the head of a decapitated Exorcist on the table for her to try and take control of the conversation. Things before and during the song Respectless (why this song wasn't called Disrespect or Diss-respect is something I'll never understand) escalate as Velvette figures out that Carmilla is the one behind the dead Exorcist based on her body language and when she asks, "You know why this angel's headless? Do you have a disclosure?" Carmilla immediately ends the meeting thereafter, confirming her suspicions were correct. People have already criticized the mystery of the dead Exorcist being solved way too soon, though I haven't seen as many people criticize why the other Overlords didn't look or immediately question Carmilla the SECOND that Exorcist's head rolled on the table? Like, you guys know that she's Hell's top ANGELIC arms dealer, why wouldn't any of you suspect her from the start? Even if she had ended up being a red herring, I would've seen it as the Overlords using the process of elimination and common sense cause why wouldn't the ANGELIC arms dealer kill an Exorcist??? In any case, the reason behind Carmilla killing the Exorcist was to protect her daughters and thus someone we should sympathize with. Except that, we don't know anything about her daughters and we still don't know her. So why should I care? I have no attachment and therefore no proper reason to care for a character I JUST met. And don't get me started on her daughters as they're nothing more than minor plot devices who could've been replaced by Vaggie. Speaking of which...

Vaggie is based on two harmful Latina tropes and one harmful LGBTQ+ trope with these being the "Feisty" Latina, the Crazed Latina, and the Man Hating Lesbian. Whenever the "feisty" Latina is done in media, she's almost never actually feisty but rather plain bitchy. The word feisty is used because the show runners tend to want the audience to like this character as, to them, she's (somehow), "a woman who knows what she wants and how to take charge." We see this several times when Vaggie isn't interacting with Charlie though I would say the times that this backfired the most was in Episode #01 and Episode #04. Back in Episode #01 when Vaggie was working on the hotel's commercial she wants Alastor to help out with it. Mind you, she previously slandered the advertisement he had originally made for the hotel so I don't know why she wants his help with making a new one in the first place but nonetheless Alastor basically says, "Yeah. No. I'm not gonna help you cause you already know I hate modern media and you clearly didn't like what I had planned so figure it out." Now, instead of ending the conversation and leaving the man who wants no part in this alone, she holds up the camera that she has in her hands and not only films him but actively mocks him too. This isn't a "bold move" like I've seen people claim it to be, it was simply moronic since she already knew he was an Overlord that's killed and fought people over MINOR INCONVENIENCES. After this the two strike a deal which is another plain stupid move on Vaggie's part as that's only going to come back and bite her in the ass later on in the series. Meanwhile, in Episode #04, she told Husk to go after Angel Dust even though... A.) Going after the residents isn't in his job description. B.) If ANYONE is going after the residents it should probably be THE MANAGER since it's their job to make sure that everything between the staff AND customers is good. C.) She KNOWS that Husk has been sexually and physically harassed by Angel in the past as not only has she SEEN it but she's TOLD Angel to stop harassing the staff. I guess the safety of your co-workers doesn't matter though if Charlie's sad. D.) Lastly, I swear that there was a rule that was established early on about NOT FORCING RESIDENTS TO STAY AT THE HOTEL. Like, am I tripping or did the series retcon that super fast??? Anyway, the point is that the series has Vaggie acting like a snide bitch when she's interacting with anyone other than Charlie. This "feisty" Latina stereotype goes hand in hand with the crazed Latina. The crazed Latina trope is when a Latina will throw hands for the dumbest of reasons or for little to no reason at all. It makes it seem that Latina's are overly aggressive which is how the series portrays Vaggie. She's always seen wielding an angelic spear 24/7 knowing that she can kill any resident or staff member who steps out of line with her, constantly seen threatening to hurt others with it. Out of the two racial stereotypes this one has been called out the most as it's paired with the man hating Lesbian trope because every time Vaggie's threatened to kill someone with said angelic spear, it has ALWAYS been a MALE character. Okay, now it's time to end this off by addressing the elephant in the room that is Valentino.

Oh, God. Where do I start with this failure of a character? I suppose, I'll start with the Casanova aka the Enticing Latin Lover archetype. This involves a strong suave man who's tall, dark (or I guess light purple in Val's case), and handsome (I wouldn't call him that but that's how he's portrayed in the series) as well as being full of ulterior motives! He's the sultry hypersexual Hispanic seducer that everybody can't seem to get enough of. I wouldn't have nearly as much of an issue with this as he's the Overlord of Lust but with how the stans either absolve him of or make LIGHT of his crimes solely because they think how he looks, sounds, and acts is hot (brother eugh), with the show runners encouraging stuff like that on social media (yes, I'm referring to when people were comparing Val's personality to Karen Smith from Mean Girls with Viv agreeing with it cause he's so dumb), his sole purpose is being a plot device for Angel Dust and being fetish fuel. Which really bothers me considering that a good chunk of Hazbin Hotel stans are LITERAL CHILDREN! Continuing on, we have ill tempered and idiotic Machismo/Macho Man. The show can't seem to make up its mind whether or not they want us to take Valentino seriously or not. I get what they're trying to do by making Val intimidating and cunning at one point and a "charming" himbo the next but it's done in such a jarring way that could've been easily fixed had they shown him being more creepy towards lower class demons and Sinners but have him be "charming" towards Overlords and other members of Hell's high society. Like in the show, he's openly verbally violent towards Angel Dust while Charlie is in his presence (I also hate the fact that show Charlie didn't actually do anything when she noticed that Val had hit Angel cause pilot Charlie would've thrown hands regardless of what Angel told her) and doesn't give a flying fuck when she's turning into her demon form RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM! Then there's the fact that the Hellaverse doesn't take violence seriously until it HAS to and then these moments can come across as unintentionally comedic. Case and point, when I initially saw Valentino backhand Angel Dust in Episode #04, I AUDIBLY LAUGHED. That shit SHOULD NOT have been nearly as funny as it was! It was meant to be a serious moment where the show segues into how Angel is abused at his job but there I was laughing my ass off in my room for a solid thirty seconds before I was able to regain my composure. Next up is point three about the Cholo or gangster archetype in which a Latino will wear stylish street wear clothes (similar to the outfit Val wears in Episode #04) and commit violent crimes. My previous points indirectly had me go into depth about the violent crimes part so let's move onto point four which is Val being a drug addict and drug maker. Latin characters (specifically men) have been depicted as drug dealers and druggies since AT LEAST the 1970s (it only makes it worse that Valentino supposedly died in this time period.) It's been heavily implied that the smoke from his cigarettes acts as an aphrodisiac which is why he blows it in other peoples faces so much. We see him smoking cigarettes (which contain so much God damn chemicals in them but especially nicotine) throughout the show like its nothing meaning he's gotta have a high nicotine intake (logically, he would've gotten lung cancer by now.) The last racial stereotype that they gave him is the raging alcoholic and I know that anyone can become a raging alcoholic however alcoholism is actually a very common problem among Latinos as more than 33% of them suffer from issues related to an alcohol dependency. It's an ongoing problem that many Hispanics face and seeing how Val is already shown to be a violent individual WITHOUT alcohol in his system, that's only going to make him worse and we saw that in Episode #02 when Val got more irritable and threw his drink in Vox's direction upon knowing Angel Dust was staying at the HH.

___________ People of the jury, I rest my case and I hope you all liked reading my thoughts and I'll see you later!

[alyssalenko]

Why I Wrote It Bingo

Tagged by @hazelestelle. Thank you darling! I will tag @heroofshield @forlornmelody @foofyschmoofer @hunnybadgerv and @kittynomsdeplume (you can just do the bingo if you don't wanna do the shameless plugging XD)

Template by ao3commentoftheday and can be found here

Below are the links to the fics if you're interested :)

Fixing Canon: 'Twelve Years'. I wanted to fix the in-game romance of James Vega and Femshep, because the scene as it was, was just plain icky.

I just want them to kiss: In 'Hearts Laid Bare' I wanted a kiss after Blackwall's trial when he's reconciling his past and his future all with the inquisitor by his side. It doesn't get addressed outside a couple conversations but her support means the world to him.

This idea wouldn't shut up until I wrote it: How Harry Carlyle and Marlo Ryder got started on their secret relationship in A Dose of Vitamin Me. They literally took over my brain.

Found a prompt list: 30-day NSFW challenge--Mass Effect. I was trying to get out of my comfort zone and this was how I did it.

Everyone lives and nothing hurts: THANE DESERVED A HAPPY ENDING DAMMIT. so I wrote it myself in 'Unexpected'. He gets to reconcile with his son and have his Siha too.

Saw the plot and needed it for my OTP: The Miraculous Takes of Ladybug and Chat Noir and Superman inspired my Superhero AU: We Could be Heroes. I wanted the love square with themselves all while in the more adult world of journalism instead of school.

I was joking with my friend and it happened: I decided James game Kaidan the nickname 'Glowstick' and @forlornmelody was constantly giggling because she would think of disco stick and Lady Gaga's "Love Game" so I had to.

I woke up at 3am with an idea: 'Bound to You' gets credit for this one. I woke up thinking about how Solas put up the veil to seal the old Elves away because they killed Mythal. Then he makes us activate all those elven artifacts to “strengthen the veil” (either that’s not what they really did or he SERIOUSLY wanted to be stopped) and then he kills Mythal to get her soul and the old God soul to bring himself back up to full power so he can tear the veil down…But what if you had an Inquisitor that drank the Well of Sorrows, and was tied to Mythal? Would that mean that they were tied to Solas because he took her soul? Do you think they also felt Mythal's death? I feel like they must have and if they were in a relationship that he'd be easier to find in Trespasser due to the nature of the bond. And what if he killed Mythal BECAUSE the Inquisitor drank from the Well and was tied to her? In his own twisted way he thought he was helping and didn't realize how deep the bond went, considering Mythal controlled the Inquisitor and forced them to stop Morrigan. And then he felt guilty, because now that power is his, but he loves her and doesn't want to MAKE her do anything, and only then does he realize the gravitas of his actions.

This is going to be so HOT: I had toyed with the idea of a Joker/Femshep/Kaidan threesome for a very long time and was finally encouraged to pen 'By All Means' by my darling @naromoreau instead of just thinking about it. It even got a prequel 'On One Condition' and has another sequel in the works

Thought of a great line: In my oneshot 'Of Witchers and Succubi' Eskel has an aside I'm really proud of and it had to make it in. "Maybe it was her own scars, or how gentle and loving she was to him, or how she made a point to kiss every scar on his body telling him he was beautiful and replacing all the bad memories with something good. What was once just a scar from a blade in his side became the place she gripped as she rode him into oblivion, and a deep gash from a nekker claw became a trail of fiery kisses to his pulse point."

Gift fic: I write a lot of gift fics because I do a lot of exchanges. But I used to just knock one out for a birthday or something. I it's a toss up between 'Beautiful Christmas' that I wrote for @starsandskies or 'Until the Stars Crumble' for @briarfox13.

I want this universe and those characters: Underworld meets Mass Effect in 'Claimed'. I've always wanted a vampire and a werewolf as soulmates and had a blast with this one using Femshep and Kaidan as my muses.

It came to me in a dream: This one hasn't been posted anywhere yet. I'm still fleshing it out. But it's two spies who are partners falling in love and there are powers and AIs and car chases and weapon drops. It will be a sci-fi action fic when it's done. :)

I don't even know: This one has snippets out in the universe but hasn't been fully posted anywhere yet. I use it as an outlet to get comfortable with certain words during a sex scene or practice dirty talk and literally just letting whatever is in my head out no matter how filthy. XD eventually it will become a thing just not yet.

Fixing fanon: Everyone sees Conrad Verner as a Shepard obsessed idiot, when in fact he's very smart...just overly zealous. So @naromoreau and I thought, what if we approached it differently (and it also had the prompt something you don't ship but here we are XD)? And thus 'It's a Match' and it's sequel 'Once More with Feeling' were born.

But what happens AFTER canon: After dealing with the devil and stopping it, I wanted a soft moment between Asra and MC in 'Two Halves of a Whole'. I do want to go back and revisit these two with shared sensations because they share a heart.

If no one else will write it I will: Timothy Olmundson can sing and by extension so can Aric Jorgan. I always saw posts about it but no one ever followed through so I did in 'Love Song for No One'

Just to see if I could: i'm not a long-fic kind of person. I want the kisses and the smut, and I want them immediately. So my game spanning, full dialogue run-though of Mass Effect: Curious was to see if i could stick it out. It's been slow going, but I haven't quit yet because I wanted to expand on the little moments between Shepard and Kaidan.

[ghostlyaerobics1984]

What If YOU were the killer…?

Summary: Being Ethan Landry’s sibling, you were also dragged into your father’s psychotic plan. But it was too late for you to repent for your sins. You have caused a lot of damage, fatal wounds, and the Carpenter sisters were pissed off at your entire family.

Word Count: 2,445

Parings: Tara Carpenter x Gn!Reader, Tara Carpenter x Male!Reader

Author’s note: I guess ghostface!reader isn’t exactly a new idea, but I wanted to write Reader as morally gray instead of the hero of the story.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, murder, and cussing.

You ran after witnessing your older brother, Ethan, choking on a knife.

It wasn’t intentional on his part. Tara Carpenter had shoved the sharp edge of the weapon through the roof of his mouth.

Honestly, she was torturing him. It was not suitable for the weak-minded to watch.

You weren’t weak per say. You were just the youngest of the family.

Hence, you basically got everything handed to you on a silver platter.

You were most similar to Ethan in the shy, reserved, and introverted aspect.

Quinn and Richie were the more outspoken siblings. They weren’t afraid to try new ideas outside of their comfort zone.

Richie was the favorite child, but ever since he was murdered, your father made an effort to pay more attention to you.

Although, killing people was not a healthy, bonding activity for any type of relationship.

You didn’t need to learn that from a therapist because, unlike your family, you were sane.

You really didn’t belong here. The irony of it all? You applied to colleges in New York to pursue your own dreams, months before Wayne Bailey contacted you.

And here you were.

In the past, you spoke about your passion for helping others, and the “Core Four” took the bait.

They thought you were less likely to snap and murder people if you didn’t have a preexisting mental illness.

Try having a dad who’s present, but not really—because he’s neglectful to you and your siblings.

And it’s like none of his other children mattered to him because his son died.

It was all Bailey’s fault. He admitted to encouraging Richie’s obsession for gory, slasher films.

He could be honest about that, but in the same breath, he accused Sam and Tara of being the villains behind it all.

Which was even more ironic.

He was the reason your family split apart.

Richie replaced his family with film bros. He left home to create his own projects and never left a second glance.

During his absence, your family became dysfunctional. When the news of his death circulated, you were further estranged from your family members.

So, why were you here?

Truthfully, you couldn’t muster up the courage stand up to your father. You didn’t hold a delusion-based grudge against Sam and Tara.

Prior to the time you stabbed your first victim in New York, your friendship with Tara had begun to blossom, and you felt a genuine connection to her.

It was real to you.

She was heartbroken beyond belief when you revealed yourself as one of the Ghostface killers.

Considering that, after the big reveal, Tara’s vengeful attitude was directed specifically towards you, the friendship was probably real for her as well.

Okay, you had a hand in murdering Chad. But, in your defense, you were coerced into the act. And… he did get annoying at times.

Like your brother said, he was an egotistical jock literally named Chad.

You hid yourself in a corner far away from all the fighting and killing. Hoping, if you made yourself as small as possible, no one would find you.

No one. Not Kirby, Sam, or Tara. Including your family—if any of them somehow survived, that is.

You hugged your knees to your chest and waited it out.

There was an ear-shattering crash. Then, the theater was filled with silence for a while.

During that period of stillness, your heart beat loudly against your rib cage. If you didn’t know any better, you would think your heartbeat was exposing you.

But if you did get busted, it would be because you hid in plain sight.

Maybe, if you told them the truth about your situation, they would understand. Maybe you would be spared.

Wait, that’s not a bad idea. You could spin the story to work in your favor.

You heard muffled speaking, and what sounded like distant footsteps.

You didn’t catch much of what was going on. It was hard to differentiate the noises when they were all one big jumble.

You recognized the pained cries from your father, and the all-too-familiar sound that came from stabbing someone in the flesh.

He was facing the brunt of the sisters’ wrath now.

You didn’t want to be next.

A gunshot was fired, nearly startling you out of your position because of how unexpected and loud it was. Wayne Bailey had gone quiet.

Sam and Tara were having a conversation. They spoke a little louder, so you were able to eavesdrop.

“We survived.” Sam said.

“I’m sorry…” Tara was apologizing. “I haven’t been nice to you lately.”

“No, it’s okay. I know I haven’t been giving you the space you need. But that’s going to change.”

A laugh from Tara. “We are getting a lot of therapy after this.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed.

There was a beat of silence.

You held your breath, desperately wishing they forgot about you. Your heartbeat was racing because of how anxious you were.

Then, Tara asked the question you dreaded most.

“Where’s y/n?”

“I don’t know.” Confusion was laced in Sam’s tone. “We didn’t kill them?”

They were on the hunt, searching for you.

“No, I would’ve remembered if I did. Y/n betrayed my fucking trust. I’m going to show them how much it hurts.” Tara uttered that statement with complete seriousness, your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach.

“I won’t get in the way. Y/n is all yours.”

You pressed yourself further into the wall, but there wasn’t much you could do to hide at this point.

Unless.

Based on the volume of their ongoing conversation, Sam and Tara still seemed nowhere near you.

So. It was a long shot, but you pushed yourself up into a crouching position, and tiptoed your way toward a more concealed hiding place.

You thought the universe was shining down upon you, that you were destined to escape from the ending your family suffered through.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You wanted to avoid crossing paths with Sam and Tara, and yet, you almost collided into them.

“Don’t you dare touch us.”

Tara brandished a knife covered in dried blood. It gleamed in the light.

She was not in the mood to be tested.

You let out a surprised yell, stumbled backwards, and raised your hands in surrender. “Please don’t kill me!”

Tara was glaring at you. She refused to lower her guard, and the knife.

There was a snarl on her lips. The same unhinged look you had seen when she ruthlessly stabbed Ethan.

Sam crossed her arms. “Why shouldn’t we?”

Like Tara, she was just as skeptical, but at least she pretended to give you the benefit of the doubt.

Your eyes darted from Tara to Sam.

Figured you were living on borrowed time, so you spilled what they didn’t learn from your dad’s revenge monologue. “Detective Bailey, my father, he was manipulative.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a hot flash of anger surge through your body. “He didn’t care about us. It was always, ‘Richie this, Richie that.’ I was the baby in my family, do you know how much that affected me?”

Neither of them were interrupting you, so you continued on, “I know, there’s no excuse for teaming up with my selfish father. But he threatened to carve me up if I didn’t help avenge Richie. They kept telling me that I would be the family’s disappointment.”

Part of your sob story was a lie. Bailey never threatened to kill you, but to get out of this alive, you had to sell the act.

You were more cunning than you gave yourself credit for.

Tara’s posture relaxed, and she no longer pointed the knife at you. Instead, she let it relax by her side.

As for Sam, her expression changed from pure cynicism to sadness. It seemed like your story hit close to home.

“Please understand. My dad and siblings, they made me kill.”

Taking several steps back, your hands remained where they could be seen.

The knife was hidden in your sleeve, anyway.

Sam and Tara followed your every move. They weren’t allowing you to run from them.

“Your dad was an asshole.” Tara tilted her head, observing you curiously. “Ethan, too.”

The sisters shared a look as if they knew something you didn’t.

“Quinn was a bitch.” Sam added to her sister’s previous comment.

For some reason, you got a vague sense that they were deliberately provoking you.

“Ethan boasted about killing Chad, and it felt so goddamn cathartic to get rid of his fucking mouth.”

Tara laughed, but there was a lack of emotion. No remorse. Nothing.

She wasn’t sorry at all.

You couldn’t help but grow uneasy. Sam and Tara’s insults about your family shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did.

But they struck a nerve. Especially Tara’s offhand remark about deriving enjoyment from your brother’s murder.

The words slipped out faster than you could stop them. “Fuck you.”

“Funny, Ethan said the same thing.” Tara replied coldly. Whatever sympathy she had left just dissipated.

“Hate to break it you, but you aren’t the first Ghostface to fake a sob story.” Sam smiled.

It wasn’t a kind smile.

It was the malicious and calculating type. A smile that conveyed the message: Your ass is dead.

“What do you mean? I’m telling you the truth!” You tempted to shout, but decided it was best for your sake to keep an even tone.

“How do we know? Like Richie and Ethan, you’re a fucking traitor and a pathological liar.” Tara spat.

The aggression was clear in her voice.

Lowering your hand, the knife’s handle slid right into your palm. You gripped it discreetly.

If the opportunity presented itself—and it would—You were going to be ready.

You really should’ve been paying attention to where you were walking, though.

The heels of your feet bumped into something hard.

You swayed backwards, arms flailing around as you tried to control your balance.

Unlucky for you, Tara didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that split second where you were preoccupied.

She took a fistful of your shirt collar and yanked you forward with surprising momentum; You nearly choked.

If you were brought any closer to her, the two of you would be kissing.

Tara’s free hand slid to the nape of your neck, keeping you rooted to the spot without any leeway to escape.

Tara leaned in, lips moving as she said, “Now die like your fucking family.”

Your face felt hot from an influx of anger and shame.

Ashamed that you were defeated so easily.

Furious at your siblings and father for putting you in this situation.

Still wielding your knife, you cocked your arm and thrust rapidly. You intended to stab her before she did it to you.

An unpleasant squelching filled your ears.

Your knife slipped out of your hand and bounced onto the floor.

A maniacal grin spread on Tara's face; She forced the knife deeper into you, and the hilt of it pressed against your skin.

Intense, grueling pain flared in your stomach. It coursed throughout your body, causing your limbs to weaken.

Your mouth had fallen open. The only reason you were still upright was because of Tara.

Then, your legs gave out once the knife was withdrawn. You were sent into a kneeling position, hitting the hard floor.

Tara craned her neck to address her sister, who was just standing aside and watching you suffer. "This part brings back memories."

After those words left her mouth, Tara faced you, lifted her foot, and she kicked you down.

You cried out in pain as you fell on your back.

You tried to curl into a fetal position, but Tara situated herself on top of you, purposefully placing all of her weight on the deep cut in your stomach.

You moaned begrudgingly at the pressure, feeling more of your blood ooze out.

Raising the knife above her head, Tara glanced over her shoulder at Sam.

You knew why.

She was asking if murdering you was really worth it.

Would she be willing to face the psychological consequences if she sent herself over the edge and released all of her unbridled rage on you?

Her hesitance almost refilled you with hope.

Sam must’ve given her the answer she needed because—at lightning speed—Tara was plunging the knife into your torso once, then twice.

And she didn’t show any signs of stopping.

You shrieked in agony, yelped, and flinched each time the knife pierced your flesh.

Blocking off her attacks with your arms, you whimpered, “Stop, please!”

As if granting you one last act of mercy, Tara faltered.

Your breathing was shaky. Multiple stab wounds were littered across your chest and stomach.

Blood from these wounds seeped through the holes made in your shirt.

“I’m…” It was hard to speak because of how much pain you were in. “I’m sorry that I hurt you and made you feel like I deserve this.”

Droplets of tears flowed from your eyes and you whined like a baby, “I don’t want to die!”

Tara peered down at you with a glossy look in her eyes. “I know you don’t.”

You continued to cry; You felt miserable, cold, and your body was damp and shivering from blood loss.

She lifted your head.

You were really losing your mind, because for a second, you thought the gesture was meant to be comforting.

Well, that lasted until Tara spoke again. “Chad also didn’t want to die, but you killed him.”

You were struck with the realization that, in spite of your efforts to tug on her heartstrings, she was still as pissed off as ever.

Your eyes widened, and you blurted out a random motive that came to mind, “Crime of passion? I am madly in love with y—”

“No, stop.” She shook her head, brows furrowed in confusion.

Your hopes of surviving diminished like hot air from a popped balloon. You sighed, wincing as sharp pain shot through your stomach, and lolled your head to the side.

“It’s over.” Tara interjected, before you had a chance to come up with another dumb excuse.

You didn’t understand what she meant.

It’s over?

Was she letting you off the hook? Or, were you going to be thrown in prison?

Turns out, it was neither of those options.

The knife was held to your larynx.

And without another word, Tara sliced your throat open.

Your vision went black after that.

Sam and Tara Carpenter overlooked two factors when they left the old theater that was reinvented into a Ghostface shrine.

1. Chad survived.

2. They forgot to shoot you in the head.

[preemshots]

the definitive post of WHERE IN THE WORLD IS JOHNNY SILVERHAND’S BODY?

AKA the post of HERE’S WHY I WANT TO BELIEVE WE ARE GONNA GET JOHNNY’S BODY BACK IN DLC. 

buckle up, gamers. it's time for some lore. this is a very long post. 

warning: this will contain a million spoilers. both for details of multiple game endings, a wee bit of the “where’s johnny” comic, and the cyberpunk RED book. if you want a sparknotes version this is the post for you. my main source here is the cyberpunk RED book as well as as some references to the cyberpunk 2077 world book to cross examine the lore. 

i have no idea if someone has made this post before or what anybody else has been finding in their own lore diving. this is just me documenting my own findings from the sources i’ve been using.

it would be disingenuous not to preface this with the ways in which cyberpunk 2077's telling of the arasaka assault differ from the version told in the TTRPG books. the books =/= the game. pondsmith acknowledges in the intro of RED that this is a bridge between the old cyberpunk world and the new world of cyberpunk 2077. 

we also know that johnny's an unreliable narrator and his memories presented to V are often different than real events. but on top of that we don't know if the reason why many elements are changed is simply CDPR editing/adjusting/condensing the storyline for their own canon, or if it's due to johnny's construct being manipulated by outside influences such as arasaka.

some of the main differences you need to know from cyberpunk RED canon:

in 2023 johnny doesn't bring the nukes to arasaka tower. he's solely there to free alt.

johnny and rogue and their team from the atlantis/the aldecaldos are actually hired by morgan blackhand. 

morgan blackhand is the one who plants the nuke, unbeknownst to many members of the team. 

morgan blackhand promptly disappears after this event and no one knows if he's alive or dead. (claire confirms this fact to jackie and v before the heist in 2077 canon)

johnny's silver cybernetic arm is its own character, separate from himself. it seems to have a mind of its own and johnny interacts with it and/or is influenced by it.

when he, spider murphy, rogue, thompson, shaitan, and a team of los lobos from the aldecaldos (who are there in place of santiago, as he’s busy as the leader of the aldecaldos at this point) are attacked by adam smasher, johnny and his arm actively choose to draw smasher's fire in a deliberately suicidal move. smasher downs him instantly, but the distraction is enough to also save his friends.

spider murphy shoves a mysterious chip in johnny's dying head as they escape that alt had downloaded to her a long time ago.

johnny's body is later "rumoured" to have been retrieved from the rubble by a full-body borg groupie that was a first responder to the ground zero of AHQ and then hidden away in a nearby garage.

here comes the political lore that makes my eyes cross, so hopefully this accurately summarizes it: the 4th corporate war begins to end. arasaka is ultimately blamed by the NUSA government to have nuked themselves in a political move to protect their secrets and promptly banished from the USA. arasaka denies this all the way back to japan, then eventually returns to “liberate” night city in the unification wars.

but what the public doesn't know is that kei, saburo's oldest son, had actually hidden an EVEN BIGGER MORE DEVASTATING NUKE at the bottom of the tower to, well, do exactly what they were being accused of doing, even though blackhand was the one who actually dropped the smaller nuke on them. and luckily the bigger one didn’t go off.

arasaka tries to find their nuke in the rubble so they don't get in even bigger trouble, only to discover that it was moved and hidden away to... surprise! a nearby garage.

to compare with 2077:

in RED: we have no johnny loading the nukes into the elevator. no johnny being carried off the premises. no meeting saburo. no johnny getting soulkilled.

in 2077: there's a parallel moment to RED's version of events right after johnny uploads "liberator" from alt's old cyberdeck with spider's help into the arasaka mainframe in saburo's office. adam smasher comes for him as he's trying to escape, knocking him off the second floor of the atrium into the rock garden below.

visually this is the same atrium we always meet alt in in cyberspace and also where V meets johnny for the first time. hmmm. meaningful, perhaps.

not unlike what happens in RED, johnny unloads a clip into smasher at that point, but from there the scene instantly cuts to him running to the roof attempting to board the AV with rogue, where smasher shoots him down again. it’s possible johnny actually died to smasher in the atrium and we have some fabricated memories going on. 

either way, in 2077, we lose the character beat of johnny dying for his friends, and the current-day general consensus from rogue and others is that he’s perpetually a selfish asshole with ulterior motives. 

and, just to wrap up the politics of it all: morgan blackhand is rumoured to have been secretly hired by the militech-backed NUSA government to help end the 4th corporate war by... you guessed it! nuking arasaka.

HERE'S WHERE JOHNNY'S BODY ENDS UP IN CYBERPUNK RED (SPARKNOTES VERSION):

RED ends with a story called "black dog" set in 2045. black dog is the last song johnny recorded right before the assault on arasaka tower, but the final copy is a bootleg copy of the song and only a fraction.

we're introduced to a fun group of cybernetic-enhanced characters that represent the classes in the TTRPG and based on/designed by real people in collaboration with CDPR.

this group includes trace santiago, santiago's son, who is a media that is curious about the mystery surrounding the circumstances around his father and the arasaka bombing. 

just connecting lore here: if you talk to saul at the aldecaldo camp in 2077, he confirms that santiago was killed for his involvement with johnny and the bombing, something that rogue and johnny reference when they talk about their now-dead crew from the afterlife, and in chippin in, santiago is a friend that johnny lists as someone he had disappointed.

the group sets off to find any info about black dog, and meet up with a full conversion chrome woman named samantha in a garage who is blatantly a johnny silverhand fangirl. trace discovers she has a history with johnny, having rescued him from a studio fire at some point in 2015 and speculates she could have been a groupie also.

she mysteriously has a more complete recording of black dog, though not perfect, and offers to trade it for a service: she wants the group to transport a large crate to a facility in new mexico, asking them not to open it.

shit goes down. evidently everyone in night city wants to kill them for this package once it starts moving. eventually they open it. it's the arasaka nuke that had been hidden and never went off, emblazoned with warnings.

trace inquires about the circumstances surrounding the arasaka assault with an older member of the lobos who had been present with rogue and johnny. the man mentions that it was weird, because morgan blackhand organized the whole thing and then ran off immediately with a mysterious bag that we now know contained the nuke. 

michiko arasaka intercepts the gang, explaining the situation around the bigger nuke, that other factions in arasaka want to utilize it for their own goals (presumably hanako and yorinobu) and her father's legacy, that she feels responsible for. she escorts them to new mexico so that the nuke can be dismantled once and for all.

they meet up with a woman named angel in new mexico that takes the crate from them, at a facility that specializes in nuclear material. she gives the group the full recording of "black dog". the group leaves successful.

this woman is also a johnny silverhand stan. once alone, she calls up samantha, who says, "i promised i would get him to you in the end" and reveals that she had already gutted/dismantled the original nuke and discarded the material into the bay.

angel opens the "nuke" to reveal a hidden cryochamber, and greets the face of the person inside with, "hello, my love."

i mean, holy shit. okay! so that’s DEFINITELY johnny’s body. cool!

now let’s go into all the references to this story in the actual game of cyberpunk 2077 that SUGGEST we are going to pursue this story AND johnny's body since it’s such a HOT FUCKING TOPIC. 

and i know many of the following can just be considered easter eggs. but my personal interpretation of this game is that it has a really delightful way of intentionally glossing over important story details—and not by ONLY putting them in shards (which people tend to dislike because lol reading) but by also hiding them in plain sight, constantly deferring to V's own ignorance, distracting us with shallower, shinier things, encouraging us to actually play as the fool hero of this story. 

so here's the fun list of “””evidence”””:

this one’s a reach, but fun. in the initial arasaka assault flashback in 2023: we can interact with the groupies at kerry's show as johnny. samantha doesn't appear to be present, but the first person and groupie you can encounter in the flashback has a passing resemblance to angel in that she has a cybernetic arm.

in chippin' in, where we go to johnny's "grave" in the oil fields: if we are to take the 2077 retelling of events as truth, the story could instead be pretty easily be changed that samantha procured his body from there.

mike pondsmith, who wrote these stories and created the TTRPG can be heard on the radio narrating various conspiracy theories. and sure, these can just be easter eggs, intended to reference the differences between the TTRPG lore and the game, so take it with a grain of salt:

johnny. bro. tell him it was morgan blackhand

to top it all off, mike also directly references the actual WORSE nuke arasaka had hid in another arasaka conspiracy: 

SPOILERS FOR GAME ENDINGS AHEAD.

in the rogue ending of the game we discover rogue has a son. it's possible her son is trace (edit: nvm NOT LIKELY, since in RED’s black dog story rogue is listed separately from santiago’s mom in conversation) OR possibly one of the other characters. she tells her son to "pull over and look at the stars" or something along those lines. maybe just details, so that screams nomad to me.

rogue also has a photo of herself and johnny with mike pondsmith in her apartment/office in the afterlife. i initially read this as a delightful cameo but it also can mean mike the CHARACTER knew johnny and rogue, and rogue therefore has some kind of relationship to him and these conspiracies on the radio. and why the fuck not make him a full on character? we have a smattering of streamers and personalities already integrated into quests in the game. the creator of all this should be no exception. fuck it! 

rogue and johnny constantly dance around this accusation of her “selling out”. it’s repeated over and over that she and adam smasher worked for "the same people". i'm beginning to wonder if this wasn't meant to imply only arasaka since smasher mysteriously disappeared after the AHQ assault in 2023 and returned to SOMETIMES take jobs from arasaka... but possibly morgan blackhand and/or by extension, the NUSA or any other greater influences. (like nightcorp? we still don’t know where all this shit with nightcorp/the peralezes/sandra dorsett’s discovery about their research into mind control is gonna go) this also doesn’t account for the multiple factions inside arasaka with VERY different motives. 

morgan blackhand and adam smasher are rivals in the TTRPG, a role that appears to be at least partially filled by johnny instead in 2077. in relation to the arasaka factions, it’s worth nothing that smasher specifically works for yorinobu as his bodyguard at the beginning of the game, in part i assume because yorinobu is avoiding working with arasaka security details as he stole the relic and is plotting against his father. he is then promoted to head of security by yorinobu when yorinobu assumes power. 

in the ending as you work your way through arasaka tower with rogue and shaitan and johnny, rogue remarks:

michiko at this point in 2077 is the leader of the more “liberal” faction within arasaka, so it’s possible we’re seeing that while rogue and smasher work for the same people/family, they couldn’t be more different. 

you can also encounter rogue more than once on the phone fighting with wakako, who has apparently crossed her. wakako also seems to have her own ulterior motives and works mainly with the arasaka-backed tyger claws. she notably gives v/takemura the parade security info for “play it safe” without asking for anything in return, enabling hanako’s kidnapping. my theory is that yorinobu intentionally leaked the parade info to her to give away to put hanako in danger or at least continue to destabilize arasaka. 

in the takemura/devil ending of the game, there is a point where violence breaks out at the arasaka board room meeting when yorinobu-allied security open fire on them. one of the only people that survives along with hanako is michiko arasaka, who was at odds with hanako’s decisions, but  very involved in the preceding discussion.

and now for is my favorite detail! in the afterlife AT ALL POINTS IN THE GAME (but it can only really be inspected in the rogue ending when we are allowed behind the bar), we can find a photo of the squad that transported johnny's body from samantha to angel on the shelf below johnny's tequila, of them hanging out in front of the afterlife sign:  

this implies rogue has some relationship with them, and sentimentality, if we're to judge by the placement. she maybe even took the picture. i don't know, it's charming, it could be all easter eggs. who fucking knows.

either way, rogue and these kids both have in common that they worked with or at least interacted with michiko arasaka. 

and you know what my final evidence is? more wishful thinking! black dog plays on the radio in game. we got a full recorded version of it by refused. if not an oversight, i go ahead and take it to mean the final version was finally released to the public by those kids that were looking for it. 

i haven’t the slightest idea how this is gonna wrap up in future DLC. who has johnny’s body now in 2077, decades after it was dropped off in mexico? what is the truth?? where the fuck is morgan blackhand?? from the devil ending, we know that arasaka stole jackie’s body and put his soul into mikoshi, so the idea that they would just toss johnny’s corpse has always been laughable. the “where’s johnny?” promotional comic was even about thompson unsuccessfully trying to find johnny’s body. i know i am biased here but i cannot fathom all this talk about johnny’s body ending off with us NOT finding it, whether it’s just to bury it, shove johnny’s engram back in it, make out with it, or WHATEVER.

if you made it through this slog, congrats. thanks for reading! 

[universallychaoticpan]

Hello! Ik you wrote this a really long time ago, but your one-shot about Levi being a Titan shifter and moving to the walls with the reader was so so good omg. The brainrot has infected me, sO could I request a part two to that one? Maybe the two of them going through the trial (like Eren’s in canon), and maybe them managing to negotiate so they are immediately killed by the military police? For some extra angst, maybe Levi being really hesitant to allow himself and his wife to be dragged into another war when they just found peace. Only if you want to of course! Have a lovely day!

Sorry this took a sec, I've been dealing with migraines and then this got deleted, but I hope you enjoy it! Loved this idea a lot so I just had to do my best to write for it <33

Somehow, you'd thought that making out of Marley meant being safe- you'd thought that maybe, for once, you'd be able to live safely and happily away from the constant threat of war.

Or at least, as happily as you could knowing what no one else did; knowing what lay beyond the rolling hills and sprawling plains of Paradis.

Stupid.

Such naivete is what had landed you here: hands bound tightly behind you with the millitary police on either side of you and your husband, a rifle trained on him, kneeling in the center of a courtroom. Across from you, you caught the eye of a boy, no older than 15, looking just as afraid as you felt; you'd come to know him as Armin Arlert; one of the two witnesses who now held your lives in the balance.

Scarcely daring to breathe, you watched as three men entered and took their respective places. Even though you'd only lived on Paradis for so long, there was only so much time you could go through without hearing three names and learning just who these men were:

Erwin Smith

Niles Dock

And Darius Zachely

And you knew that if you couldn't convince the latter you weren't enemies of humanity, that you wouldn't make it out of your current situation alive.

So for a while you watched and listened, heart drowning out any sound until you were simply watching people's mouths move in speech as sweat rolled down your back. That was until, a voice mentioned your name, and all at once, you saw Levi's eyes flash to you filled with fear as you were dragged to the ground. Almost immediately though, he took his eyes off you and you did the same; he was trying to protect you, and as much as it broke your heart, you knew the truth wouldn't help either of you.

"How do you know this woman," Zachely grunted, Niles's eyes narrow and suspicious as the room waited on the answer with bated breath.

"I don't," Levi responded. "She owned the house I was hiding out in. Forced her to let me stay." "And yet," Niles countered, "for that to be so she would've had an extensive history within the walls. Instead, we find no traces of her existence. No family, friends, no one who can even say they ever saw her before the fall of Trost. Add to that you ability to wield the power of a titan and letting you both live sounds like a recipe for disaster." Turning to Zachely, who had his hands clasped in though under his chin, he finished. "It's our belief that they should both be executed here and now before they can-"

"Now hold on."

For the first time, Erwin had spoken; for another moment he was silent, the room quiet as a tomb as he surveyed the both of you; Levi's bruised face, your eyes hooded and bleary from days without sleep. "According to our witnesses the defendant in question was not actively pursuing the people fleeing Trost. In fact, he seemed uninterested in anyone but this woman in particular; everyone else was left alone. Mr. Arlert, Mr. Jaeger, what say you?"

Swallowing hard, the blonde boy started forward, once again staring at your eyes: they were full of panic and desperation, begging him to say what he knew.

So he did.

"Commander Smith is right," he began, voice shaking as Zachely's intense stare focused in on him. "The defendant did not go after or attempt to harm a single person. All he did was attack and kill several titans. I believe Commander Smith sees this man as a potential asset to the survey corp's cause; if he is in fact a titan who only kills other titans, than we have gained an ally no matter how strange it may seem."

"And the woman?" This was once again Niles, who nodded to a soldier; in a moment there was the barrel of a rifle planted against the side of your head, your eyes as well as Levi's widening in shock while your mouth went dry. "If we can use him as a potential weapon, so be it; as long as he can be controlled, it's your funeral. But she remains an object of suspicion: no one can validate her life within the walls, and she herself maintains that she can not for our safety reveal what she knows until she is sure of us. Do what you will with him; but letting her life seems like more risk than it's worth. We aren't even sure what it is she does-"

"Kill her and I don't fight."

His voice was hard and stubborn, your husband's eyes trained on you; he'd betrayed the nonchalance that had been protecting him; and like a dog, Niles saw the opening, ready and open for him to sink his teeth into.

"Oh? So she's more than the woman who provided you shelter? Seems peculiar that you would care so much for the life of a stranger." As if on cue, the rifle at your temple clicking as the safety was switched off. "Tell us then, if you don't want a bullet through her pretty head."

When he was silent, Niles sighed impatiently. "We don't have all day here. I'm giving you three seconds. One."

Your heart was racing, your eyes warning him not to say a word.

"Two."

His own eyes were fixed on you in horror, a silent debate taking place as he tried to find a way to keep you alive without exposing you. If the truth came out, there was no way to avoid being dragged right back into the same war you'd run from. If he stayed quiet, though, he knew there was no way you would leave the room alive. He was panicking, and if there was one thing he knew well, it was that no one ever made the best choice while panicked.

So he did the only thing that would keep you alive.

"Thre-"

"She's my wife," he gasped out finally, fear overtaking him at last. It was rare to see him well and truly afraid and even after so long, it still shocked you. "She's my wife and a scientist-"

"What does she study?"

This was asked sharply by the brunette standing near Erwin, her eyes now alert as she watched your teary eyes intently.

"Titans," you whispered. "I uh- I study titans and titan paralysis agents." You left out the fact that when you'd left, your research had been in favor of Marley: how to combat such agents and make their titans more suitable for battle as technology advanced. They didn't even know those enemies existed. You weren't about to admit that you had been buying them more time.

"Well there you have it," Erwin said calmly, voice easy and measured as Niles reluctantly motioned for you to be lifted from the cold floor - which you were, albeit roughly, - "her abilities revealed." Turning to Zachely, he gestured to the both of you, your body still weak and legs threatening to give way under you, and Levi straining against his bonds with a gun still on his every move. "It seems to me, Premier Zachely, that both of these two would be assets to our fight against the titans. All that remains to be seen is how far they are willing to go."

He was right.

Somehow, you'd both found yourself back in the same war you'd run from; all you could do now was whatever it took to stay alive.

[braceletofteeth]

how is moonjo as a dentistry student? does he have any college “friends” or acquaintances? is he an aced student? does he kill during his college days? would love to hear your thoughts!

He’s a student who’s always on time. He leaves his house early so he won’t have to hurry. He wears comfy and plain hoodies, when it’s cold, and long-sleeve cotton shirts when it’s hot. You’d say he looks pretty comfortable and unbothered. Approachable, even. He also has three or four expensive suits, for whenever he needs to dress up and make a good impression. No one knows about his upbringing, or where he lives.

Ms. Eom would never pay for his expenses; she didn’t even think he would go to college. She thought they’d just keep scamming people forever. But Moonjo had different plans. Through the years, he saved his own money (through whatever means necessary), so, when he was accepted in the university he wanted to go to, he had enough to move out and pay for his own rent, in a small place closer to where he would be studying. Ms. Eom seemed to accept the change well enough; he still visits to take some of her lovely food (questionable meat) and help out with house chores (none of them legal), even though he has less time now, so it’s not like she can call him ungrateful.

Since Moonjo is trustworthy (allegedly), professors like and favor him. When he makes a mistake, instead of babbling justifications or panicking, he quickly apologizes, recognizing it, and fixes it right after. Despite his charming and easygoing personality, when he’s working (especially in practical activities), he turns very serious and efficient. He’s attentive, carefully listening to what senior dentists and patients say. Blood, saliva, vomit, acrid smells and unsettling sights don’t phase him, not one bit. Everything is natural to him—the others don’t know he’s experienced in the area, and have been doing this since they were still playing hide and seek in their parents’ backyards (although, admittedly, less gracefully at the time).

Moonjo is only human though. Sometimes he gets incredibly bored with the repetitive day to day life, and will do something to change his routine, like convincing a classmate someone has been following them around, just to watch them grow restless and anxious, worried about their secrets and their safety, practically jumping out of their skin when others call their name. Until the day that, too, becomes boring.

Sometimes he wants to breaks things in half, just to hear the sound they’d make as they part. Sometimes these things are the people around him, but he never forgets that any damage done to them could be linked to him, even if in a distant way, for he’d never have a traceable motive. He maintains good relationships. People trust him.

He goes to social gatherings with the others, drinks and chats like everyone else, and tries not to be the first one to leave every time. He’s a funny man, and has some good stories. They eat his lies like baby birds. It’s amusing and almost effortless, but sometimes it annoys him, and he’d rather be alone. Or with someone he didn’t have to pretend. In nights like this, he goes to Ms. Eom, for he has no one else to turn to. She’s the only thing close to a friend. He still has no one to substitute her.

He's an open book with his “friends” at uni. He talks a lot about himself; not to the point of sounding narcissistic, but enough that they think he has nothing to hide. He talks so much, and yet, they don’t know anything meaningful. Occasionally, he lets the mask drop a bit, allows some honesty to take air outside, just to see how far he can blow it until they start suspecting something.

Unfortunately, since he’s such a great guy, there will always be people asking him out or confessing their romantic feelings and wishes. His friends will try to make him go with them in “double dates” or alone in “blind dates” with “a friend of a friend”. On the bright side, it means everything is in order, and people still think he’d make a pleasant company—that he’s alluring, even. But it’s also a nuisance. He doesn’t feel the need to go that far in his act, and he doesn’t like being pushed. He’s tolerant to a certain extent, more than people could imagine, but he’s not willing to be used by them.

He’s his most authentic self in group assignments. He’s always chosen as the leader. He’s demanding as hell, but people still fight to be in the same group as him, every time.

They know he won’t ever settle for anything but the best.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

The Man Comes Around

Over at the Wen Indoctrination Tower, which seems to exist just to torture Lan Wangji with stair climbing, Lan Wangji is climbing the stairs. Too bad his cultivation level is too low to be able to just jump up. At least this time his leg isn't broken.

This is the first vengeful stair-climb in the show, but not the last. (Parallel gifset here).

The Wen guards are stationed all the way at the pinnacle of this tower to guard...what? Why are they not at the bottom of the stairs? What is this location for, actually? This is further up the stairs than the scenes with the indoctrination lectures. Anyway, it's been three months since Wen Chao threw Wei Wuxian into the burial mounds, so naturally these guards are talking about that exact thing as Lan Wangji approaches.

Lan Wangji knocks them all down with a blast from his guqin. Did you know his guqin is named Wangji, by the way? It is. A guy who is that lazy about naming his quqin maybe shouldn't feel so superior to a guy who named his sword "whatever." 

(I'm suddenly remembering a plush lamb I had as a child, whose eyes were orange, that I named "orange eyes.") (I, however, was three. And I had a lot of plush lambs. Little ones. Grown-ups found it hilarious to give them to me.) (Native speakers of English can probably guess what OP's real name is. Hint: it rhymes with Canary.) (Everybody else: there is a kid's rhyming song called Mary Had A Little Lamb. OP's name is Mary.)

Anyhoo, after Lan Wangji is finally finished with his dramatic entrance, Jiang Cheng comes flying in from wherever he's been hovering for the past 20 minutes of stair time. A bunch of Lan sidekicks also flood into the frame from wherever they were hiding during the wide shots of LWJ on the staircase.

In case you hope that CQL Lan Wangji is as much of a top (offscreen) as MZDS Lan Wangji is (on the page), here's a gif for you.

(more after the cut)

He uses the patented Lan string attack to choke this guard.  Lan Wangji doesn't have to hold a guqin string in his hands to choke someone with it. He doesn't even have to tighten it, judging by how absurdly not-tight this string is.

Or maybe this guy is choking on the chin strap of his helmet. This is exactly how OP's son reacts when OP sticks a bike helmet on him. (Note: it's GOOD that they are following choking safety protocols on set. Very good. However, they could have just left the string out and pretended, and it would look better, in this instance)

The Wen guard tells Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng about the whole "thrown into the burial mounds" thing.  Team Let's Find Wei Wuxian is not happy to hear this.

A Vengeful Ghost

Meanwhile, in some Wen office somewhere? Where the hell is this? Yiling, we get an ominous shot of the rooftops where Wei Wuxian is lurking and then we see Wang Lingjiao trying to sleep and having a nightmare.

Wang Lingjiao has gone to sleep with a full face of makeup on instead of washing her face before bed. She has forgotten the important maxim, Go To Sleep Pretty, Wake Up Zitty.

She leaps out of bed to go cling to Wen Chao and freak out about Wei Wuxian's ghost. Wen Chao is trying to read the sports section and has clearly had enough of this crap. This has presumably been going on for a little while now.

Wang Lingjiao is in a new outfit, which is...pajamas? It has the feel of a 1930's French peignoir set, and it's much more softly colored than her usual bright red-purple combo. If this is her pajamas is it weird that her day clothes are a lot more aggressively sexy-looking than her nightgown? A freak in the streets but a lady in the sheets.

Wen Chao rants about the Sunshot Campaign and talks some smack about Wen Qing, and then leaves to go to the bar and watch the game with Wen Zhuliu. After he leaves Wang Lingjiao freaks out for a bit and then looks at the notice he was reading.

The notice basically says that the Sunshot Campaign is kicking their ass. She should be proud for inspiring the name of the campaign with that kite-shooting bullshit she made up at Lotus Pier. Before slaughtering everyone.

No Matter What You Do, I Only Want To Be With You

Back at the Indoctrination Tower, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are having feelings about Wei Wuxian. Jiang Chang does all the talking but Lan Wangji's thoughts are louder because a sad violin is playing Wangxian while they talk.

Jiang Cheng tells Lan Wangji about their meetup plan and says he thought WWX had dumped him to go find Lan Wangji in Lanling. Lan Wangji telepathically indicates that this didn’t happen. This means two things: 1. Lan Wangji has been hanging out in Lanling, where Jiang Yanli has been hanging out, so maybe they have bonded over the past 3 months and 2. This is the first time Jiang Cheng has talked to Lan Wangji since Wei Wuxian disappeared. 

Much as my fic-loving heart would like to believe these two spent three months on the road together looking for Wei Wuxian, in fact they are both important high-level fighters in an active military campaign, and Lan Wangji was busy taking back the Cloud Recesses while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were having elective surgery. They probably both were assigned to the "Indoctrination Bureau" mission and this is the first chance they've had to talk about Wei Wuxian.

Is it heartbreaking that, while Wei Wuxian was helplessly getting his ass beat because he'd sacrificed his golden core for Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng believed Wei Wuxian had abandoned him for Lan Wangji? Yes. Yes it is.

For some reason Jiang Cheng is hesitant to believe that Wei Wuxian really was thrown into the Burial Mounds. I mean, I understand not wanting to believe Wei Wuxian is dead, but given that Wen Chao is the dude who oversaw the massacre of all of the people at Lotus Pier, including kids, why would Jiang Cheng think his guards are wrong? Maybe he just feels like Wei Wuxian is invincible, since so far he kinda has been. 

The Sword is Mightier Than Not Having a Sword

While they've been chatting, the Lan disciples have found their swords. One disciple is holding Bichen (LWJ's sword), Sandu (JC's sword), and OP consults wiki Suihua (Jin Zixuan's sword). Another disciple is holding Subian (WWX's sword).  

Jiang Cheng grabs Sandu while the Lan disciples, who apparently know their gongzi’s heart, offer Wei Wuxian's sword to Lan Wangji. 

Lan Wangji takes Subian (Bichen: What am I, chopped watercress?) and immediately tries to draw it. Like you don't do. It's sealed itself, which apparently means that it's upset. It's unclear if it's upset because Wei Wuxian is dead or if it just misses him, however.  

Lan Wangji definitely misses him, and wonders, out loud inside his own head, where Wei Wuxian is. Um, he's in the Burial Mounds, dude, they just told you. Well, I guess he's actually in Yiling proper at this point, haunting Wang Lingjiao as he promised her he would.

Twa Corbies

The scene shifts to Qinghe, where there are about 12 dead bodies lying around, which in this show means that there are really a few hundred. In fact, per Jiang Yanli's statement "nothing can be seen but corpses covering the plains." The camera can't see most of them, is all.

Wen Xu's head is hanging in the doorway, and the Jins talk about how Nie Mingjue killed him, cutting his head off with just one swing. Is this foreshadowing anything, like perhaps someone else's head being cut off by Baxia in just one swing? Nope, definitely not.

A couple of crows are perched on a body, totally not eating it, but Jin Zixuan gallantly zaps them with a talisman to make them fly away anyway.  It might be noteworthy that nobody used to use talismans but gradually more and more people are using them - particularly people who have spent time with Wei Wuxian.

With mony a lock of his golden hair-o, we’ll theek our nest when it grows bare-o

Asshole cousin Jin Zixun says “scavenger rights,” so Jin Zixuan puts him in charge of collecting all the bodies. 

Since OP just finished watching fur-collar-happy Nirvana in Fire, these crows look to me like they are wearing luxurious fur collars. Where OP lives, crows are not this fancy. 

A Romantic Corpse-Filled Interlude

Disaster het Jin Zixuan goes to help Jiang Yanli get out of the carriage but she rejects his hand just like he rejected hers back in Gusu.

Jiang Yanli is extremely shocked when she sees Wen Xu's severed head, and turns away in horror, preferring to calmly rest her eyes on dozens of crow-pecked corpses.

Jin Zixuan tries to comfort her and she tells him she'll be going now, thanks for the hospitality. He tries to say that he has to personally deliver her to a representative of the patriarchy one of her brothers, but then one of her brothers shows up.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng arrive, having presumably flown there from Qishan. They show that they are flying by blowing a fan on the ground and then jumping off of a box, which is better than the effects we were subjected to earlier in the episode.

Jiang Cheng rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Jiang Yanli, while Lan Wangji rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Wen Xu’s severed head. Jin Zixuan kind of spoils it for him by talking about Wei Wuxian's absence while Lan Wangji is trying to have a moment.

The whole time Jin Zixuan is talking to him, Lan Wangji appears to be gazing into the middle distance but in fact he is staring at Wen Xu's severed head. This is the guy who led the burning of Cloud Recesses, killed a bunch of disciples, and personally broke Lan Wangji's leg. Lan Wangji stares at his head for more than a full minute before glancing away.

Jiang Yanli hasn't seen Jiang Cheng since they were in Wen Qing's clinic, and she is happy he's recovered. When she asks about Wei Wuxian he gives her the bad news in the classic Jiang fashion, which is to say nothing, but look stricken until your interlocutor figures out that something is horribly wrong, but not precisely what.

Four Angry Men

Inside the fortress, Nie Mingjue is slapping the table and saying, this bad boy can hold so much resentment and vengeance. They're having a mini war council and we're getting a better sense of Nie Mingjue's anger management problem. Note for those who don't get the gif reference: this is a The Godfather joke, not a sex joke, but it can be both, if you like.

We're also getting a little more info about Baxia, who seems to be eager to go fight even without anyone wielding it. (Her? Him? Them? do swords have gender? I don't know). Well done, person below the camera frame whose job is to rattle Baxia in a menacing manner.

They've got a giant model of the battle targets, which looks like it was carved out of real rock (I mean, as much as any of the rocks on this show look like real rocks) and has its own table and everything, decorated in Nie colors. Where was this before they took Qinghe back? Has Nie Mingjue been traveling with it? 

Anyway, I'm assuming Nie Huaisang made it, because it's pretty nice. Hopefully they will keep it around for tabletop gaming after the war is over.

Jiang Cheng is upset but is using his anger management mantra to help control his temper while Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji talk with Nie Mingjue. 

Lan Wangji talks by leaning forward meaningfully, mostly not by using any words, but he asks for a battle assignment and Jiang Cheng immediately joins in. They both want to go find Wei Wuxian. 

Nie Mingjue says Yiling is too difficult of a target, but Lan Wangji puts on his determined face, which is apparently very persuasive.  

After Team Find Wei Wuxian leaves, Nie Mingjue asks Jin Zixuan to hang back so he can ask him how Meng Yao is doing. This is the first time he finds out that his ex didn't go to Lanling. Jin Zixuan tries to delicately remind him that Dad's got, like, SO many bastard children, they really don't have space for all of them. Nie Mingjue dismisses him immediately and abruptly. 

Nie Mingjue might invite the straights to his party but he isn't interested in actually socializing with them.

Unconditional Soup is Only for A-Xian

Jiang Cheng can't sleep, and takes some time, now, to be sad about Wei Wuxian. Presumably he spent the prior 3 months being mad, not sad, because he really thought he just buggered off without saying anything for all that time. Which is sort of fair, but sort of not. One thing about these two bros is that for as close as they have been and as much as they love each other, their mutual understanding has some big, messy gaps.

Fortunately while he is feeling sad, Jiang Cheng does not try to draw Subian from its sheath, because wouldn't THAT be awkward.

Jiang Yanli can't sleep either, and comes to sit with him. Jiang Cheng feels bad that she's wearing herself out with worry and she says "As your sister, I have nothing to do but to worry about you." Jiang Yanli isn't one to complain but she doesn't like being inactive or helpless. In Lanling she was far from the war, but now that she's in Qinghe she'll make herself useful by tending the wounded, and later she'll help Jiang Cheng shoulder his responsibilities as he takes over the Jiang clan.

At the moment, however, all she can do is fret and make soup. As she gives Jiang Cheng a bowlful she reminds him that he absolutely has to rescue their brother who has, according to his captors, been reduced to bone dust.

With all the impossible shit that Jiang Cheng is expected to achieve - and in many instances, does achieve - he is absolutely the embodiment of the Jiang Clan's motto. Fuck his father for disrespecting him because he hadn't figured out how to do everything by the age of 16.

Definitely Not Chilling in Yiling

Back in Yiling, Wen Chao is hearing the news that the Qishan Indoctrination Bureau has fallen and that he's being called back to Nightless City. Wen Chao says he shouldn't need to go back because his dad has a new right-hand man. That new right-hand man, we will eventually learn, is Meng Yao. Wang Lingjiao, meanwhile, is hiding under the bed covers and deciding it's time to dump Wen Chao.

She locks the door and goes to pull out her jewelry box, which is locked and hidden under the bed. Maybe this is Wen Chao's jewelry box, because she acts kind of squirrely about opening it. Upon opening the jewelry box, she doesn't find jewelry but a pair of bloody fake eyeballs staring at her.  She screams and freaks out and then the wind picks up and we hear the sound of a flute, playing the "I'm here to fuck your shit up" tune that Wei Wuxian likes.

Wang Lingjiao runs to the door and pulls down the protection talisman that's pasted above it, and pastes it directly to her chest instead, which is, we will learn in the next episode, the worst idea she could possibly have at this point.

Then she uses a poking stick to go flip the jewelry box open and finds it's full of ugly-ass jewelry again, plus an improbable number of weird round paper-mache biscuits that have been painted gold. None of this jewelry looks anything like the exquisite accessories people wear in this show, which means this stash was put together by the practical effects department, not by the costume department.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao apparently thinks she can sell this fakeass stuff for a good price, so more power to her. But then we get a short glimpse of the menacing eyeballs again, this time on the floor, having moved out of the box and brought their little blood pool with them. Screeching ensues.

Next episode: Lady in Red!

Soundtrack: Twa Corbies, by Steeleye Span

[nikethestatue]

Meet Me in the Silence

Elriel Month - Day 5

 Continuation of ‘Forbidden’

Honestly, tooth-rotting fluff, some Nyx, stabbing Cassian with fork, Azriel singing and relationship stuff

Azriel loved Nyx. He didn’t love him because Nyx was cute and pudgy, or because he was his nephew, or because he was a fun, if demanding baby, and not even because spending time with him was a private relief for Azriel. A time to let go, a time where he could spend rolling around on the carpet, helping Nyx with blocks, rattles and the construction of pillow forts, watching Nyx sneeze little whiffs of starry night.

Nyx, unbenounced to him, showed Azriel some truths that Azriel couldn’t face before. The thing with Nyx was that he was a baby and he didn’t care—he didn’t care about Azriel’s scars and his ugly hands, he didn’t care about Azriel’s cruel ways, or the services that he provided to the High Lord. Nyx didn’t care about how many people fell under Truth-Teller’s deadly edge, or what Azriel had to do on the battlefields or during the Blood Rite. Nyx didn’t judge. As an infant, he wanted the same thing from Azriel as he wanted from everyone—warmth and comfort, kindness and love. He wanted to be rocked to sleep, fed, changed and played with. He didn’t care that the bottle was held by the same hand that tortured the Night Court’s enemies, or that the man who held him to his chest did some unforgivable things in his life.

As the last nine months rolled by, Azriel had to do some re-evaluations of his life. He had time on his hand, to be sure. Instead of courting Elain, like he wanted to, he thought. There was nothing much else left for him to do.

He thought that perhaps, despite his internal denials, Elain was much like Nyx—she accepted Azriel for what he was. Scars and all. Her acceptance did not stem from naiveite, though, but love. The realization hit Azriel like a sledgehammer. He crawled towards it, slowly, but surely, rethinking every touch and every smile, recalling every smirk and sparkle of the caramel-brown eyes, all the jokes and jabs, and gentle touches and finger brushes. Recalled the worry on Elain’s face when she knew that he went on his missions—even if they weren’t particularly dangerous. The pain that was etched on her features, when he returned in a particularly foul mood, and she knew that it was because he did things that marred his soul. He remembered her casually handing him a whiskey, which he’d gulped down in one go. Or a cup of tea, with honey and lemon, just like he liked. The gooey caramel cakes that she made—they were his favourite—and they began making a frequent appearance on the dessert menu. The past nine months of their forbidden love—is that what it was?—were the time when Azriel finally felt loved. For the first time in his life. Mor never really loved him, not like he needed to be loved. His brothers—well, they were his brothers, so that was that. Elain loved him. Of that, he was now certain. Elain loved him without touching. Without kissing. Without romance. Without courtship. Without gifts or presents or flowers. Without promises. Without expectations. It’s like she couldn’t help herself, even if she tried. She needed to love him, as much as he needed to be loved by her. All her tiny gestures of comfort and care created a glittering mosaic of love and devotion, which he only now began to piece together. And it pained him that she was not free to express herself as she wanted to, because loving him came with a hefty, unreasonable price.

For her, he’d fight. For her, he’d be the person she deserved. When she began choosing him, it was the first time in his life when someone actively chose him, despite all his shortcoming. And he wanted her to continue choosing him, every day, making the decision to love him.

Azriel had a lot of time to think about it, in silence.

 Azriel was a good cook. One of his may hidden talents. He spent much of his time alone, or in places that were foreign and unfamiliar, or in the army, and necessity being the mother of invention, he had to learn how to cook. And then, he became quite good at it. He had to draw the line at baking, but he could make a steak like nobody’s business, and eggs every way were his specialty. Tonight though, he was tired and distracted. It was the first time in a very, very long time when he and Elain were alone, so he didn’t particularly want to waste it on cooking. What’s more, with Nyx being the raging little monster that he was today, Azriel wanted to put the kid to bed as soon as possible and just relax. For a meticulous planner, tonight, he had no plans at all…and it both excited and frightened him, because it would just be the two of them and they’ll have to figure it out.

“Breakfast for dinner?” he offered, while Elain set Nyx’s food in front of him. He was too quick for her and immediately jammed his whole fist into the vegetable mash, soliciting a groan from her, as he began licking his palm and fingers with gusto.

“Whatever you want to make,” she agreed, as she began wiping the mess that Nyx made, while Azriel smirked, shaking his head. He tossed two slices of ham in the skillet, and allowed it to crisp up and caramelize.

He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. She smiled, momentarily lost in the sensation of closeness and comfort that he always offered her, so effortlessly too.

“You know,” warned Azriel, using his ‘stern’ voice, looking at Nyx, “for your behavior, you should be sent to an Illyrian training camp. Just so you know what’s what. There, there won’t be 10 people looking for Brute for you, or uncle Cassian swimming with you in the pool, or Elain feeding you lemon cakes, or aunt Nesta reading to you the same book over, and over, and over, and over again. No aunt Mor taking you on a pony, and no Varian building sandcastles with you, only to watch you destroy them.”

Elain, tucked against his chest, was laughing. Especially because Nyx was glaring at Aziel unhappily and suspiciously.

Then, she said, softly, almost to herself, “I am happy that he is happy. That we can give him the childhood that none of us had. Let him be a little bit spoilt, because he is so loved.”

There was longing in her tone. Longing for something that she probably desired for herself. Those conversations have never been had between the two of them. Gods, they’ve never even been together in public, let alone had conversations about the future, and a future that included children. It was never something Azriel even thought of, considering his ‘luck’ in love, and his line of work. But he heard her. So he gave her a little kiss on the cheek and returned to his cooking.

Elain was feeding Nyx the last of his food, when Azriel placed two plates on the table, and poured both of them a glass of ale.

“Beer with breakfast,” she giggled. “I like the way you think, shadowsinger.”

He laughed, loving how easy it all was. How easy the banter came, how relaxed they were together, how there were no pressures at all when it was just the two of them. Well, three.

“Alright, you’ve taken enough of everybody’s time today,” he decided, as he fished Nyx out of the highchair and went to wash his face and hands again. Elain remained seated, watching the two of them, with her chin propped on her hand.

Was it normal to be that enamoured with a man? When he did mundane things? She had to admit—Azriel was indescribably beautiful. That alone would attract anyone. The gargantuan wings, ticked tightly, but not tensely against his back didn’t hurt either. The span of his enormous shoulders, the movement of those thick muscles around the arms, over his back, which moved and bulged as he wrestled with Nyx, who was refusing to get his hands washed, were mesmerizing. She knew that she shouldn’t be so dazzled by his looks, but she couldn’t help herself. But it was more than just admiring the elegant cut of his body, the well-fitted trousers that did very nice things to his thighs and his long legs, or the enticing forearms that were exposed from his haphazardly rolled up sleeves. The tattoos, in fact, snaked lower than she anticipated. She’d never seen him undressed—Cassian, strong, beefy and powerful, and the leaner, thinner Rhysand—plenty of times. But not Azriel. He’s been annoyingly timid. All three were tattooed, but apparently, Azriel’s reached all the way to his scars. She smiled to herself, amazed and bemused. Who would’ve thought that she, Elain, would be so attracted to a winged and tattooed male? What a far cry from the ordinary, plain Greyson.

Azriel plopped Nyx down on the floor, tossed him Brute and some toys and then quickly threw a shield around them, so Nyx was contained and didn’t attempt to wander from the kitchen.

“You should’ve started,” he nodded to her untouched plate, as he sat down.

“Not without you,” she said. “Looks very good!”

“I try,” he said bashfully and they tucked into to the scrambled eggs, ham and vegetables.

“Oh, gods, it’s really good,” she almost moaned.

“Baby, it’s just eggs,” he reminded her, secretly very pleased with her reaction.

“Well, baby likes them!” she giggled, cutting into the ham. Azriel watched her, watched the movement of her hands and she asked, “What?”

He chuckled and said, sipping his ale,

“I recall when you were planning to kill Cassian with a fork.”

Her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” he was laughing softly.

“I don’t think it’s even possible to kill Cassian,” she noted.

“I’d agree. But you were ready and eager.”

“When was I planning to kill Cassian?” she demanded.

“First time we met—at dinner. I remember Nesta…well, being Nesta. And Cassian—Mother save me, the moment he had her eyes on her, he was just dripping with this hideous arousal,”

Elain almost choked, eyes wide.

“What?”

“It was horrible,” he gave an exaggerated shudder. “Rhys and I were traumatized. Those two were going at it, as usual, fighting, sniping…whatever they do, and all we could smell was him getting hotter and hotter. That dinner,” he shook his head at the memory. “It was something else.”

She was laughing, nodding.

“And you?” she asked, at last.

He gave her a long thoughtful look. A tender, loving look that made her throat bob, and suddenly she was hot…much like Cassian.

“Honestly?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off her.

“Yes.”

“I thought that I saw the most human and the most beautiful girl in the world. Utterly unattainable. Engaged to another man. But surprisingly unafraid of us,”

“I was very afraid of you!” she argued. Azriel smiled.

“You three were huge!” she cried. “With these enormous wings,”

He raised his brow suggestively and she smacked his arm,

“Oh, shut up,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” he shrugged, “but please, tell me more about our huge wings, and our generally superior size,”

“I am not telling you anything,” she snapped, her cheeks red, and he was delighted.

“But you do admit that you tried to kill Cassian?”

“I didn’t try to kill him. Just defend myself, if there was need,”

“Pretty sure Nesta would’ve unmanned him with her bare hands,”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

“And me?” he pressed, “you didn’t want to stab me with a fork?”

She gave him a cool look of nonchalance and recalled,

“You suddenly turned into a poet!”

“Did I?” it was his turn to be confused.

“Something about hearing the wind song, or something,”

“I don’t even remember that,” he confessed, a slow blush spreading over his cheeks.

“I do. I guess we remember different things about that evening.” She glanced at him from under her lashes and added, “I just remember thinking that you were the most handsome man—male—I’d ever seen. I didn’t even think that people could be that beautiful,”

Azriel’s blush deepened and Elain secretly enjoyed watching him squirm a little. She was well aware of the fact that he was always uncomfortable when people mentioned his appearance. He knew that he was handsome, almost unnaturally so, but whatever horrible words and deeds he’d experienced in his childhood warped his perception of himself. At times, she wanted to assure him that no one paid much attention to his hands…she certainly didn’t. She always found his hands, the scars on them just as attractive as the rest of him. They were simply a part of him, just as his beauty was. But he struggled. She knew it.

And as she always did, when she wanted to reassure him, she took his hand and brought it to her lips. He stilled. She kissed. Kissed the inside and outside of his palm. Watched him. Watched him tense, but not pull away his hand. Kissed each long, strong finger. Kissed the rough skin. Kissed the pain and the doubt. Not away, but at least temporarily.

Bored and tired, Nyx fell asleep on the floor, sprawled on the rug, clutching Brute.

“We have to take him upstairs,” muttered Elain, releasing Azriel’s hand.

She didn’t know how to deal with the intimacy of their relationship. Her feelings were raw and exposed, and she was painfully aware of her own inexperience. She didn’t know how to be seductive. Had no idea how to play games—wasn’t really looking to learn either. But she wasn’t dazzling or mysterious, and had no inkling of what Azriel expected, of what he wanted. He was so unbearably difficult to read, while she was stupidly, obviously in love with him. She was the Cassian to his Nesta. She was the one dripping with arousal, unable to stifle her need, or dampen her desire. He probably saw her as the fool that she was.

Frustrated, she made to get up from the table, but he caught her wrist and clasped it gently, as always reigning in his terrifying strength.

“Come here,” he murmured and pulled her to him, until she settled on his lap, feeling both awkward and happy. “Lainey,”

“I like baby,” she blurted.

He nodded, and said, “Baby, you don’t need to pretend with me…I…” he swallowed, thinking how to continue. “You might be surprised, but it’s new for me as well. I’ve had,” ugh, he really didn’t want to discuss his past lovers with her, not right now. “I am not inexperienced,” he said diplomatically. No, he wasn’t. “But this,” and he waved his hand between them, “this is new for me as well. I’ve never felt this much…for anyone. Ever,”

“What becomes of us, Az?” she asked softly.

“Whatever you want,” he stated simply.

“But,”

He shrugged, “there will always be obstacles,”

“Rhysand is more than just an ‘obstacle,’” she reminded him.

“Rhysand, frankly, can go and fuck himself,” Azriel said flatly.

The new, Fae Elain wasn’t scandalized by the coarse language. The three brothers, Nesta and Mor cursed like sailors, and Elain found herself throwing an occasional ‘shit’ and ‘dick’ in her speech. So it made her smile when the usually controlled, polite Azriel unleashed his mouth.

“He is your High Lord,” she reminded him.

“He is technically everyone’s High Lord, but it doesn’t mean that he gets free reign on doing whatever he wants. If I am not asking him to give up Feyre—remember how he snuck her out from Tamlin’s clutches—then he doesn’t get to tell us what we ought to do.”

The thing that he’s been carrying in his pocket was burning through him, a constant reminder. He shifted and then looked straight at her and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. For someone who didn’t crave or enjoy touch, the desire to touch her was constant. He didn’t even need anything sexual at this point, but feeling her skin against him, in whatever way, was beyond satisfying.

“Did you promise him anything?” she inquired, moving even closer to him, loving the heavy warmth of his arms around her.

“Absolutely not!” he spat. “He is completely overstepping, and I’ve been humouring him up until now, but it seems to be that he is a little too comfortable with the status quo,” he looked at her, his voice grave, “I hope you didn’t promise him anything either?”

She shook her head,

“No. I didn’t say anything.”

A whoosh of breath escaped him. “Thank the Cauldron.”

Elain stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers and said, sharply this time, “Everything’s been taken away from me once already. I wasn’t prepared to give you up. You are the only thing that I want, and Rhysand wasn’t going to take that away from me. From us…” she glanced at him, “if you feel the same…”

“Do you need to ask?”

She smiled.

Azriel exhaled deeply and then cupped her face between his hands. He was going to do it. He needed to do it. She devoured his gaze, the look of intent in his forest-green golden eyes, the determined set of his jaw. He left her, once, waiting…Waiting for him to take the next step, waiting for him to act and he didn’t. Not today.

“Elain,” he swallowed audibly, and she felt that he was nervous. “Will you permit me to court you?”

Azriel wanted to do this properly. Elain deserved it—deserved to be treated with kindness and respect, but he deserved it as well—he wanted to do what so many others took for granted. It never came naturally to him, the normal things, and for once, despite everything, he was going to make this one thing happen.

Nyx moved on the floor, woke up and let out a scream. Confused, he looked around and began babbling tearfully ‘ma, ma, ma’.

Elain slipped off his lap and gently cooed “Shhhh, come…come, my sweet boy,” and picked him up. Azriel watched them, not even upset at the interruption.

Nyx was crying in earnest now, and not even Brute was enough to console him.

“I am going to try to put him to bed,” she whispered, rocking the baby against her chest.

Azriel opened his arms and said, “hand him over.”

“But,”

He carefully took Nyx from her and the move did not result in silence or calm, and Nyx cried just as sadly, looking for his mom. As Azriel made his way down the hall and towards the stairway, with Elain trailing him, he began to sing. In a language that Elain did not know, but understood innately to be Illyrian. The way the sounds rolled off Azriel’s tongue was natural, the melody lulling and sweet. His voice was soothing and pleasant, with a gravelly note that came from the back of his throat. Nyx stilled, blinking at him. As they slowly went up the stairs, Azriel rocked and cuddled Nyx, stretching his wings so they covered them in a dark canopy, the words of the lullaby muffled, but just as beautiful. Elain wished that it didn’t end…There were just a words that she picked up ‘warrior’ and ‘sleep’—something she learned from Cassian, who was teaching Nesta some Illyrain phrases, now that they spent a decent amount of time in their Illyrian bungalow.

In Nyx’s nursery, Azriel put the baby down in the crib and covered him with a blanket, rocking the crib lightly, as he continued his song, quieter now, seeing that Nyx’s eyelids drooped.

Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and Elain slipped to his side, and wrapped her arm around his torso. They never needed words.

Sleep, warrior heart

Sleep and know that you are loved

Sleep, warrior heart and meet me in silence

Find dreams and peaceful slumber, my little warrior heart

 Azriel quietly translated the song, without her prompting. He knew that she’d want to know what the words meant. He, however, did not explain the history of the song and where and how he’d learned it.

“Yes.”

He looked down at her, a silent question on his face.

“The answer is ‘yes’,” she repeated. “You may court me.”

“Thank you,” was all he said.

They left the nursery and stopped in the hallway.

He put his hand on the back of her neck and stroked.

“Then I’d like for you to have this,” he said at last. He took something from his pocket and laid it in her palm. It was a key.

“We will have to meet in silence.”

[piracytheorist]

Since the first thing that strikes me about re8, story-wise, is that it seems to be all over the place? Again, I’ve no idea how it ties to previous games but it feels like this parental/mother-child theme is just hanging there with no resolution at all? I mean yes, Ethan saved his daughter, presumably breaking some sort of abuse cycle, yay, congrats, but what about his wife/gf? Isn’t she supposed to be like the main protagonist of the story of a mother bereaved to the point of tyrannical madness

Or rather, this specific story is not the right choice for his character since there’s SO many ethical and philosophical issues and questions implied but never properly explored because of Ethan’s ‘fuck you, idc’ attitude (which is completely understandable in those circumstances but adds virtually nothing to the plot and arguably even ruins it a bit). Heisenberg could’ve been an excellent ally with fascinating grey morality (provided the writers wouldn’t push him to the point of absolute insanity and let freedom, not power-hunger be his main goal and motivation for rebellion).And again, aren’t the lords supposed to represent child development stages? In which case Ethan what? Kills the possibility of some evil version of Rose? Or his own chance to experience fatherhood throughout all of those stages? Either way, it seems a bit… weird to have a Parent destroy multiple people whose main relevance to the plot is that they’re children of an abusive antagonist in a storyline so extremely focused on parent/kid relationships.

I feel like the main theme of re8 is not just parenthood/motherhood, but the relationship itself of the parent to the child. There's a lot of mentions to "children being used". Miranda kidnapping people, experimenting on them and mutating them and then treating them like they're her kids; Miranda kidnapping and practically killing Rose; Dimitrescu making daughters out of reanimated corpses she experimented on; Heisenberg wanting to use Rose's powers, etc etc.

And it's important that Miranda is at the center of this. There's something very interesting she says to Ethan in her boss fight:

"Why do you interfere? Surely you have no need of Rose now, so close to death?"

And that's where her mistake was. Ethan wasn't doing all that because he needed Rose herself. He was doing it to save her, fully aware that he wasn't going to be a part of her life cause he knew he was dying. Miranda was way too dependent on her love for Eva - and like, I honestly get it that losing your child can devastate you (if anything my fear of that is one of the reasons I don't want to have kids) - so much that her life literally revolved around her child. Once Eva died, Miranda wanted to die. Once she found the Megamycete and discovered she maybe had a chance to bring Eva back, she dedicated her entire life and ruined multiple others to do just that. Her one and biggest need was to get Eva back. It wasn't a simple want or wish. It was a need. She'd get her child back, damn everyone else - including other people's children.

Miranda had no-one to blame directly; Eva had died from the influenza, it wasn't like she had any chance to change things. Ethan's case was different; he had people to blame, particularly, the one who kidnapped Rose and dismembered her, and her lackeys who kept said parts and fought him for trying to take them back.

So on one end, you have a parent who lost her child due to a tragedy, and ended up destroying other - innocent - lives in order to get her back. On the other, you have a parent who lost his child due to a crime, and ended up going after the criminals responsible in order to get the child back. Like, it wasn't even revenge, and it wasn't that he "needed" Rose in his life. He simply wanted to save her and ensure she'll be alright.

I fully agree it could have been Mia as the protagonist in re8, and that it was a wasted opportunity to simply fridge her and have her in the sidelines angsting over her husband. But whether it was Mia or Ethan as the protagonist, I feel like the theme that I explained above does offer a resolution, showing the opposites of Miranda and Ethan, and ending Miranda's tyrrany of her "need" to have her child back through Ethan's determination to ensure his child's safety and happiness - even if he doesn't get to be a part of any of that later on. Miranda showed obsession; Ethan showed dedication.

And this is how I see the abuse cycle breaking and the resolution is reached; an obsessed parent hurt a good parent's child to bring their own child back - the good parent's dedication stopped the former, allowing the former's tyrrany to end and their child to grow up safe.

Seeing as this is a horror game, I don't tend to focus on the morality issues (if I'm interpreting your second message correctly). Like, the developers are making a grant effort to put us in Ethan's shoes, first-person POV, plain character protagonist and all; our child got kidnapped and practically murdered, and we have the chance to bring her back. We'll absolutely raise hell to the people who are responsible for it and we will get our child back, fuck any moral dilemmas we might have. When someone is threatening your life, you have the ability to kill them to defend yourself. In the case of a caring parent, that ability may multiply by a lot when the threat is towards their child. And I feel that this is what the game explored in the end. Though the whole survival issue is taxing on Ethan, he doesn't give a damn about who he has to kill if it means saving his daughter - but again, it's only the responsible parties. We see how watching all the people at Luisa's house die affected him, and even before Elena died, he wanted to ensure her safety before he went searching for Rose; he is sympathetic and morally rational, but also capable of cold-blooded murder if someone is threatening his child. To a lesser extent, we saw that in re7 too. With his life on the line, he killed Jack (multiple times) and Marguerite, and at the end he recognized how they were actually victims of Eveline. But they were still actively trying to murder him so he wasn't given the chance to help them. With Zoe, he promised to send help, and he did, even wanting to talk to her once she'd been rescued by her uncle and Chris. The same applies to re8, but as I said, it's multiplied since it's his daughter who's in danger, and the end of re8 proves he cares for her safety more than his own.

Now, all that said, I think it's important to note how it's stil a Resident Evil game. I haven't actually played or watched any playthroughs of other games, but the basic concept in these games, from what I understand, is that the player shoots zombies; ex-human beings who have lost any human mentality and will just come for your throat if you don't kill them first. They're not humans anymore, they can't be reasoned or sympathized with. It's not really an issue of morality, ethics or philosophy. Your life, and the life of your child in the case of re8, are in danger. You don't give a shit. You just start shooting and hope for the best. Again, I don't know if the morality issue is explored in other RE games, but to be honest... Resident Evil doesn't sound like the kind of franchise that's thematically into going super deep into the morality of shooting zombies to save your life.

I have to admit I haven't thought of the Lords being representative of child development stages. I think they could be put as Moreau being a toddler, fully dependent on their parent - funnily enough, the Greek word for baby is "moro", pronounced almost exactly the way "Moreau" is pronounced in the game - Donna as a child, Heisenberg as a (rebellious?) teenager, and Dimitrescu as a late teen/young adult (if anything, Dimitrescu seems to behave like the eldest child of the bunch). But I'm not sure the connection that has to Ethan as a father, if anything because the bosses are fought in complete random order of age, if my analysis is correct. Like, I understand the symbolism behind the Lords' behaviours, maybe as you said they represent the obstacles Ethan had to overcome. In one single day and with his life on the line, instead of in the course of Rose's entire childhood and adolescence, but that's exactly why he hated being a protagonist of a horror game, lol.

Anyway, yeah. All in all, I don't think Resident Evil is a franchise where we should expect to sit down afterwards and ponder whether we were right to shoot the zombies that were trying to kill us. Again, I'm not the right person to ask this, since I don't know anything about other RE games, but that's the conclusion I'm making in a meta-thinking way.

[yanderecandystore]

I'm curious, remember that werewolf ask? What would've happened if werewolf!reader had attacked the bullies and given them lycanthropy?

At first I got confused- But that's already normal cause I'm dumb-

Sure thing boo :3

TW/Tags: referring to [🐺🐇🌷] // I'll make this kinda short // mentions of slightly nsfw stuff (scent, marking/biting/licking, etc) // blackmailing, guilt tripping //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Oh No- [Yandere!Bully OCS (werewolves) Werewolf!Reader - Headcanon]:

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Oh no! This was totally something he didn't want to happen- Oh no…. (Sarcasm).

Listen, he didn't want to get bitten, but being a werewolf as well? Well- It's not exactly a dream come true, but it sure sounds like an interesting time-waster.

Although he may consider punishing you for biting him by making you do stuff for him, being a freak like you it's already a great punishment.

Come on, you won't let him all alone having to deal with it by himself, will you? Would you be so heartless to do that? You know he can literally track you down more easily now, right?

He may not be able to fully understand his wolf side yet, but he is 100% sure that he would still be stronger than you, so be a sweetheart, and be kind with your new buddy, will you?

He loves to make you remember how he can still make you pay for what you did by exposing you, granted that it would probably end up backfiring on himself now that he is a beast like you.

His first transformation reminds you of your first time transforming. It was horrible to watch him in pain, but so terrifyingly sweet to see him be in a position like that, after all- He did kinda deserve some of it, probably not all of it though.

You were there to guarantee he wouldn't do something stupid, and surprisingly, all that he did in his werewolf form was- Take a nap.

Take a nap on top of you, sure, but still- Just a nap. It wasn't good but it surely wasn't bad, at least his fur smelled nice.

And speaking of smelling, geez! If he couldn't get enough of your presence already, there he goes breathing your scent like it's oxygen. His senses are better now, yet his wolf brain can't focus on anything but you. Because you are soft, small, and your scent is so nice to him.

Human thoughts going through a wolf brain that can only think of food, nap, and the little munching you he has. Of course it would be safer for you to transform into a wolf to help him, but not only do you not control every time it happens- But there is also the possibility of him getting the wrong idea when seeing another wolf near him.

He may lash out, thinking you're invading his territory, or even- I don't know, get the odd idea about seeing another one of his kind near him. You didn't want to think about it, but there was a possibility of him instantly recognizing you as mate material- If not prey material.

That's kinda hilarious to think about, how would he even consider that? It's not like Adrien would see you as nothing as a prey for bullying, right?

Even if you don't want to do it, I think it's impossible for you to not help him- I mean, really, would you leave a potential killing machine all by itself? Do you really want to deal with that kind of guilt? Shame on you!

Adrien would love to simply sleep on you and never wake up, but his new form is starting to get a lot of intentions that aren't all that- Wholesome, if you know what I mean.

Werewolf Adrien would be more than happy to simply bite you and mark you right there, even if he wouldn't know what that meant he still felt very tempted in trying. But instead he optioned for licking, just getting a taste of you in his half asleep state.

You end up having a bigger werewolf than yourself, lay on top of you like you are some kind of pillow and lick your face constantly… This isn't the best way to spend your Saturday night, but hey! It could be worse.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Alexandra may know a lot about wolves, but she knows absolutely nothing about being a werewolf. This is completely new to her, and she would need some guidance before creating some sort of havoc (not that she wouldn't do regardless of guidance or not).

How dare you bite her? How dare you mark her in such a way?! And more importantly why did you stop….

The idea of punishing you is very fresh on her mind, and mixed with her new found senses- Oh boy! If it doesn't sound good to make you pay in double for the trouble you caused her!

Alexandra wouldn't expect herself to be stronger than you, but I guess it's just a given- After all, she is better than you already in many aspects, why would this one be any different, darling?

Just so you know, Alexandra will totally blackmail you into helping her understand what it's happening to her- If you didn't, she would expose you for being a werewolf in plain sight! So play nicely and HELP HER!! Please, the girl can't even paint her nails without thinking about how her claws would end up getting muddy and nasty the next morning.

Werewolf Alexandra is just as active and chaotic as she already is- Good luck while keeping her away from the public while also distracting her from causing destruction on purpose, you'll need it.

Although she is more interested in exploring all the abilities that come with this, she can't lie that something has been bugging her… You smell so nice sometimes, and even when she is not in her wolf form, she still smells that same cursed but blessed scent all over you.

It sounds so nasty, even to her- But, hey, she could get used to it.

I think you should tell her about the implications of marking one another, how one bad move and it could look not exactly as "playful teasing" as she calls it. But then again, it's Alexandra we are talking about, she'll totally get even more tempted into marking you if you said anything about mates and stuff-

It seems like taking care of Alexandra is a lot easier than you think, but only if you play nice with her. I suppose you're the one being played with whenever she is involved.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[justasimplesinner]

How about Harley Quinn, Captain Boomerang, Killer Croc and El Diablo with a new member of the suicide squad who is one of the most dangerous metahuman in the world ? What the squad know is the metahuman destroyed half of a city with their powers. And they are wearing a somekind of colar to keep the powers under control.

this was supposed to be fun but it started turning into some hardcore hurt/comfort bullshit

Harley Quinn with a metahuman s/o hcs:

oh darlin', you and her instantly clicked together. bonded the moment you saw each other. after all, it takes one to know one

she will absolutely bombard you with questions. and yes, some of them will inquire about exactly how you killed some people that tried to stop you. she wants to know all the spicy details about you and your little escapade that ended in destroying half of a Gotham-sized city

if it all came from some unresolved issues, then she will gladly help you out with those - she may have lost her license, but she didn't lose the experience. she's still a great psychiatrist. and then, you two will be able to wreck havoc just because you want to, not because of some twisted form of grief/revenge or whatever

she's basically attached to you at the hip, and often gloats about you. she will threaten people who wronged her with you and what would you do to them. more than once you've brutally forced people to apologize for ever disrespecting your lady love

but despite the whole "causing chaos wherever you two go" thing, your relationship is really healthy. you both have respect for each other, and Harley would never use you as a weapon or anything of the sort. she finally has a loving partner that doesn't treat her like shit, she is not going to ruin that

Captain Boomerang with a metahuman s/o hcs:

oh, he'd tease you. a lot. some of it bordering on plain out bullying. everything just to get a reaction from you, preferably see you break free of that collar and show what you got. he really doesn't know other ways to get attention from you

it sounds weird, but he appreciates the fact that everything you did, you did for your own gain and never intentionally hurt any civilians. because you might be the person to finally understand him instead of just labeling him as criminal scum (he still is scum tho)

you can bet your ass he will try to use you to his advantage to get away. and at first, he bothered with you purely out of your usefulness, but the more he talked to you, the more he realized how much you two are alike, how well you get a long and how much he loves your banters. so, in the end, it's not as much using you as forming a plan with you to get away safely and have some fun together

is very playful about the collar, makes a fuckton references to sexual activities or just keeping you on a leash. he just can't help himself

you two make a terrifyingly great duo, and if it wasn't for his recklessnes and your occassional emotional outbursts, you'd never get caught. but oh well, mistakes happen. and just because you're in prison doesn't mean you won't have some fun together. no prison cell can hold you for long, and if you're out, he's out

Killer Croc with a metahuman s/o hcs:

at first, none of you approached the other. he even kind of wanted to, but he's more of a silent observer than the person taking initative. so in the beginning, he really made no effort to talk to you. until one time you saved his ass, and he helped you save yours

even that wasn't a long conversation, just a few words thrown in here and there. but the more he knew about you, the more he gravitated towards you and started approaching you, tried to talk to you. of course, there were still doubts in his head, he berated himself for even bothering at times, but he made the effort

soon enough though, he realized that all his hesitation was for nothing. you turned out to be very... welcoming of his presence. you never looked at him weirdly or pushed him away. you knew how it was to be the outcast, alienated from society and that's what brought you two really close - similar experiences and bonding over them

he understands why you did what you did. he understands how you felt, why you suddenly blew up to take revenge on everyone who wronged you, to let out all that rage at the injustice, at how you were treated your whole life. it didn't bring the katharsis you hoped for, obviously, but it made you understand that there's no place for people like you and him in the world. the thing was, now you didn't have to be alone

the fact that you now have each other makes life more... bearable. because you both have something to look forward to. you both can love and be loved. you found solace in each other, you finally found... happiness

El Diablo with a metahuman s/o hcs:

Diablo never planned to even speak to you. he thought of you as another sick fuck who killed people for fun. until he saw how much other's teasing was getting to you. how much you didn't want to talk about what happened. how much you tried to stay away from the group, knowing you couldn't control yourself around others if they continued to treat you that way

he approached you calmly, almost casually. he offered some small comfort, assuring you not to worry. and when you confessed that you simply didn't want to hurt anyone else... he understood. he fucking knew that so well. and so, he decided to stick around. just to see where it leads

suddenly he found himself caring about you. wanting to assure you you don't have to be scared around him. that you wouldn't hurt him. that everything is okay. he was doing everything that he knew you needed and offered everything he was never offered. he couldn't change his life, but maybe he could help you out with changing yours

he trusted you easily, which was a big surprise. but you two were really the same. one of a kind. you understood him and he understood you, and you bonded over that. and soon, you two found the feeling of comfort in each other, you didn't have to hold anything back and could be yourselves, which was more than any of you ever hoped for

not so long after, you formed an unbreakable bond and whenever the world was just too much to handle, you could always seek out one another and things suddenly seemed fine. he helped you make peace with your past, and you helped you make peace with his, and for the first time since forever, Diablo felt that inner calmness that only you could bring

[cousinwingding97]

Silver Memories

Chapter Five: Corvus

Warnings: Description of killing someone. This one is a long one as well, so the next chapter will be shorter since this took a lot out of my brain. Enjoy!

Mando listens as you describe the nightmare, or possible vision for lack of a better word, with rapt attention. Every detail is seared into your brain much like the memory of being whipped that keeps playing over and over; this one feels different, though, like an out of reach dream rather than a bone deep memory. You don’t know which is worse and you wouldn’t mind some happy memories to play in the darkness of your mind while drifting to sleep.

He shrugs it off saying it’s just a nightmare or memory before turning back to the flashing lights of hyperspace. You want to argue considering the details seem more recent and there was no sign of pain and destruction while you two were on Pollis Massa, but he cuts you off with a, “We’ll find out from my friend what it is. For now, try not to let it bother you.”

Yes, brilliant idea. Can’t believe I didn’t think about not letting it bother me, you think to yourself. Even with his words, you can’t help but notice that Mando seems much more tense in the shoulders. You’re wondering if he is just trying to make you feel better in his own way.

“Do I have enemies?”

“W-what? Why do you ask?”

“Well, I mean the dream made it seem like that guy wants to kill me or capture me at least, I was found in a cell; I can’t help but feel like people don’t want me around.”

“Everyone has enemies. Yours probably grew in number just from hanging out with me.”

“Why? Do people not like you?”

Mando lets out a small sound like a disbelieving laugh, “Most people aren’t too excited about a bounty hunter sullying their place of business In case we end up causing a mess or chasing after them. I’m not welcome to most places.”

Something twists in your heart. It feels like pity or just discomfort with the idea of people judging based off the armor and job Mando performs. “Don’t you get lonely?”

Mando shifts in his seat, “I’ve never really thought about it,” he says, but you can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. A desire to fit in and be loved, but only ever being held at arms length or feared. The emotions don’t feel like your own; in fact, you know they aren’t since you can’t place any experience to that feeling. It feels more like Mando’s due to the tinge of anger underneath it all. Why wouldn’t a child be loved unconditionally and why should anyone be untouched by the love and kindness of others?

“You have,” you breathe out more to yourself. The realization hitting you like a punch to the gut, slamming all of your emotions out to be filled with his. “You’re lonely. No one gave you what you really wanted.”

You can almost see the faceless warriors demanding excellence, violence, pure fight from every child instead of the love a child needs. A desire for every child to perform perfectly without any thought or care towards what actually children need to develop and thrive. It hurts. You don’t know why, but your heart feels like there are claws hollowing it out from the inside. Your breath starts to burn in your lungs.

“Stop it.”

“You just want the gentleness and love, you want to be loved, yet you can’t have it now.” The words flow out of your mouth, unwelcome.

“I said stop.”

“Everyone is too scared of you. Mandalorians are warriors first. Nothing else.”

“Snap out of it!” Mando literally snaps his fingers in front of your eyes and just like that, the spell is broken. You can breathe again and once you can, all you feel is numb, as if all of Mando’s emotions took your own, leaving you with nothing. Your eyes focus on Mando again. He’s staring at you. The T Visor reflects the stars of hyperspace making it look like there’s a mini galaxy in his visor instead of the black void you had grown used to. You know he’s angry by his tone and the stiffness of his body language, but you aren’t scared of him now. He won’t hurt you because he’s not angry at you, just exposed from your earlier invasion into his mind. His walls are up even higher now, you can’t help but feel like you’ve backtracked in his trust of you.

“Sorry, I just... felt you. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

He tilts his helmet subtly. Something has changed between you two and he senses it now. Less fear and mistrust on your side and more on his side now with more questions for each of you.

“The sooner we find my friend, the better. Maybe she can help you control whatever this is.”

The rest of the flight is spent in awkward silence.

———————————————————————

Corvus looked absolutely dreadful from the viewport of the Vanguard. A foggy, barren dead planet. Dead trees, fog that clouded everything like a cloak of death. Your mood was already sour from the flight with your emotions plus Mando’s silent brooding now adding to the ever growing list of negative emotions about the current state of affairs. You absolutely hated everything about this place already. The dark gloom ate into your soul.

Mando was quiet as ever. The rest of the flight he remained silent and didn’t even look at you. You figured it was probably the invasion of privacy, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help any of this! He had a right to be angry, but it still pissed you off that he seemed to be taking it out on you when you couldn’t even control what was going on.

Only when the ramp lowered and you were standing on this new planet did he finally speak to you, “Last I saw, Ahsoka was this way.” He hadn’t even stopped walking to say that, so you had no choice except to follow. Begrudgingly, you did. Like I have a choice in which way.

As if this planet couldn’t get worse, there was a silence weighing heavily around you, broken only by animalistic grunts and growls every so often. You jumped each time, scouring the area for any threat. The thought of holding on to Mando’s arm entered your mind once or twice, but his lack of reactions gave you an ounce of courage. Even if he still didn’t speak to break the heavy spell of this planet.

“Are we in danger?” You whispered into the fog.

“No.” Was the short reply.

“Then why are you not speaking?”

“Because I don’t have anything to say.”

“Even back on the ship? We are about to see a friend of yours, I’m apparently able to feel emotions through unknown powers that may be growing, I have creepy visions or dreams and you have nothing to say?” You abandoned the whispering for full volume talking, but still keeping it from yelling just in case.

“Until we know more, there’s nothing I can say.”

“More like won’t.”

The Mandalorian turns to you with a sigh, “We’ve been over this once. I’m not going to trigger you if I can help it and there’s not much to say. I hate to say it, but I’m just clueless as you are and I’m taking a shot in the dark hoping that she can help us. I’m sorry, but this is the best I’ve got right now.”

It hits you like a laser shot. Mando doesn’t know and that terrifies you. This whole time you had been following his lead thinking he knew what to do in order to bring back your memories, but he’s just as lost as you. You had been blindly trusting this man to help you and he doesn’t even have the answers. Sure, he knows more about you than you do, but the visions and emotional tune-ins are new to him as well.

“Did I not have these abilities before?”

“I don’t know.”

Mando leads you through the dead forest. Over logs, around boulders and deeper into the fog. This planet may have flourished at one time, but it looked like a graveyard now to you. There were shapes in the distance of creatures, but the lack of light coming through the fog didn’t show much detail, letting your imagination draw up horrible images of what may lie beyond the fog.

“Why does your friend live on a creepy, haunted planet?”

“It’s not haunted, just damaged. When I met her, she was freeing the locals from a tyrant who tortured those within her walls.”

“Do you think she’s still here then?”

“Maybe. The locals should be able to tell us more. If not, we can at least stock up on supplies.” The idea of people living on this planet is a tad bit surprising to you.

After hours of walking, the forest seems to give way to a grey wall. There are people posted along it, and upon seeing the silver armor, there’s a sudden rush of noise and clamor. A gate housed in the middle of the wall opens revealing an elderly man making his way towards both of you.

“Mandalorian! Welcome back! Come in, come in! Night is falling. You can rest within our walls.”

Mando doesn’t say anything, but does reach up and clasp forearms with the man who now notices you. “Oh, miss! We hadn’t expected you to be back as well. Glad you both could join us.”

You immediately looked to Mando in surprise. You had been here with him too. You must’ve have met this friend while she was here. It made sense, but you were starting to wonder how long and for what reason you stuck around.

Mando kept walking without even noticing you. The village within the walls was lively. Houses lined the main street and bustling with activity. Vendors shouting their wares, children playing in the street and racing off down the winding streets veering off to the rest of the village. Even with the plain grey and brown neutral tones of the buildings, there was life within these walls that made you smile. It was a complete night and day difference compared to outside the walls.

People were happy here and happy to see you and Mando. Villagers would point at you two and wave. Some even clapped Mando on the back or hugged you. It was starting to overwhelm you. Did you know these people? Were you from here?

Mando noticed your growing concern and cut off the old man’s ramblings, “I’m sorry, but I need to find Ahsoka Tano. Is she here? My friend here lost her memories and needs her help.”

The old man looks to you in surprise and sorrow, “Oh, you should have said something earlier! My apologies, miss. Unfortunately, Ahsoka is not here at the moment. She’s taken up a new adventure outside of our walls. She said she would be back in a few days though.”

“And when was this?” You blurt out in despair.

“Two days ago. She will most likely be back very soon if you can wait.”

“Did she say where she was going? Maybe we can find her quicker.” Mando asks.

“No, I’m afraid not. To be honest, I can’t even say if she’s on this planet with absolute certainty.”

It takes all the strength in your body to hold your mouth shut to keep from screaming.

“You and your friend are more than welcome to stay with my family in the meantime, if you wish. After everything you did for us, it’s the least we can do in return.”

Mando accepts the offer for both of you. The man leaves to go tell his wife and family in order to prepare the house for you two. When he’s left, Mando turns to you.

“I’d rather not wait if we don’t have to. Are you alright staying here while I scout out the area and see if I can track her down myself?”

“Mando, I don’t know these people despite their knowing of me! Do you trust them? And what if this Ahsoka lady comes back and you’re not here?”

He holds a hand out as if to calm you, “I won’t leave tonight. That will give me time to see if these people are fully trustworthy and let you get comfortable with them. Is that better?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance. It was, but still not fully satisfying. “Again though, what if she shows up? I won’t know her. What if we miss her?”

Mando tilts his helmet in thought. His hands settle on the belt on his hips. As if the answer came to him from touching his belt, he suddenly reaches in a pouch and grabs something. Gingerly, he reaches out his fist to you. You lift your palm and he drops a black device into your hand. It’s small and round with an oval end and a piece that juts out from the bottom. There’s a blinking blue light on the oval end.

“Here. It’s a communicator that connects directly to my helmet. It may look small, but as long as it’s on and in your ear, it will connect to me. I’ll tell the old man to let everyone know that if Ahsoka shows up, to come to you. If she does, you just press the oval end and tell me. Does that help?”

You look at the device again and gently put it in your ear. The fit is perfect and light. You press the button to test it and Mando nods in confirmation that it worked.

“Okay. That’s fine. Just don’t be gone too long. If I have another episode, I’d rather it be by someone who is already used to my weirdness.”

If you hadn’t turned on the device to test it, you never would have heard the very small breath that passed through your ear. It was a laugh. A gentle huff, but a laugh that you could hear due to the connection to Mando’s helmet. You smiled fully in pride knowing you secretly made him laugh.

———————————————————————

The old man returned to find you and Mando shopping for new supplies. Both of your arms were full by the time he came back and showed you to his house that was within eyeshot of another gated larger house in the middle of the street. You didn’t get a good look at it, but you felt like that place held a lot of sorrow and pain within its walls.

The old man, whose name you learned was Ko, introduced you to his family. His wife, Leeda and their eldest son with his wife and a young grandson. They were extremely polite to you and Mando, catering to anything and everything. They took your bags and set them on the table by their laundry room and ushered you into the kitchen for dinner. The food smelled delicious, permeating the whole house with spice, meat and melted butter. You had no idea what it was, but sitting down to eat the seared meat and baked vegetables brought you to the most light-hearted you had felt since waking up. You ate with vigor and listened to the family speak of anything and everything. 

The grandson brought up something you had forgotten until he piped up, “Mr. Mando, why aren’t you eating? Mom says that we have to eat if we are to stay strong!”

You had been distracted with the food and hadn’t even noticed the hunk of metal sitting next to you not saying a word or eating. His creed not even allowing a meal in the presence of others, but there he sat in silence, forgoing any part of impoliteness to even mention that he couldn’t eat. Everyone’s eyes were now on Mando as he sat in awkward silence. You set the silverware down in shame. How could you forget something like that? The poor guy hadn’t had food in who knew how long? He’d been with you this whole time.

“Jax, hush! That is impolite to ask of a Mandalorian.” His mother piped up.

“No, it’s okay. I ate recently. If I can, I’d like to take some to my room for later.” You knew it was a lie. He hadn’t had food recently. There was no way unless he had hidden tubes beneath that armor, but the family seemed to buy his lie. 

You suddenly stood up announcing, “We are actually really tired from traveling so much and shopping, I am afraid we must retire. Can we see our rooms?”

Ko looks up startled, but laughs it off, “Oh yes! Of course! I should’ve known you two would be so tired. Come, come. I will show you to your room.” 

You smile at him as he stands to show you to the rooms. You were just relieved that Mando would eat soon. He must have been starving! It was astonishing you that he was still standing without a hint of exhaustion or shaking.

Following Ko out of the dining room, you were led down the hall full of family photos, to a door at the end. One door. “Here’s where you two will be staying. I’m sure you will find it comfortable.” The two of you. He meant both of you. He meant for you to stay in the same room as Mando. Oh, please have two beds. You opened the door hesitantly and lo and behold, one large bed. It was so cliché you couldn’t help the small giggle that tickled out of your throat. Before you could protest, Mando chimed in that it was perfect and thanked Ko for his hospitality while gently pushing you further into the room to close the door. 

You immediately went on the defense, “Why did you tell him this is fine! You need your privacy to eat! I can’t stay here.”

Mando had been holding up one hand while balancing the food in his other, preparing for a fight. He seemed to pause at your words. “You want to leave?”

“Yes! If it means you get to eat, then yes, I will leave or hide in the bathroom, whatever you need. I know you haven’t eaten for at least a day.”

He sets the food on one of the side tables next to the left side of the bed. He shuffles on his feet thinking about his next move. You move to leave thinking he was trying to come up with a nice way of telling you to get out. Before you can, “You can stay. If you want. Just as long as we sit on the floor facing the opposite way. Only if you’re comfortable, though.���

You can’t tell if it’s a plea or just him trying to make it seem like all of this is no big deal. You have no idea, you can’t really deny the fact that you want to stay. The idea of being out there with people who act like they know you makes you far more uncomfortable. “Alright.”

You cross the room to the right side of the room, pretending to notice all the details of the room instead of thinking about his heavy gaze. He watches you the whole time. You try not to fidget or trip over yourself in the midst of his watchful gaze. You turn your back to him and slide down the side of the bed until your legs are in front of you straight out and your butt hits the cold floor. You awkwardly give him a thumbs up over the side of the bed, “Anytime you’re ready.”

You hear a hiss and a clank of armor onto the wood table. You freeze. Your body immediately wanted to turn towards the noise. The curiosity alone makes you want to look. Maybe you had seen his face before all of this had happened and it would help trigger your memories. The thought leaves as soon as it enters. You weren’t about to betray his trust with something this monumental to him.

The quiet sounds of him sliding down to the floor and then starting to eat greet your ears. It’s so quiet and you can’t help but fill the tormenting silence with anything to distract yourself from what’s right across the room from you. It would be so easy to take a peek and the temptation leads you to studying everything around you. The room is large compared to the small compartments of Boba’s ship and the Vanguard, not large enough to distract you though. The view of the wall and its single picture of Ko’s family isn’t entertaining after a few seconds. The only window is right above the bed so you can’t look out of it without risking seeing Mando.

Boredom finally reaches its peak within your brain so you call out to the other side of the room, “How do they know me? They keep treating us like we are gods. What did we do?”

There was no way to prepare for the voice that greets your ears. You hadn’t thought about how Mando’s voice would sound and even if you had, it would never compare to reality. A warm rumble of whispered honey caresses your ears and slides down your body in a comforting bass, “This planet was under the control of the Empire. The ones that ripped your memories from you. We helped free them.”

“We?”

“Ahsoka, you and me.”

“How’d I do anything?”

There’s a pause for faint chewing. You felt kinda bad for insisting that he eat and then not letting him have that luxury by constantly asking questions.

“You think that trick you did to catch that little guy on the flying lizard was an accident? Luck? You helped a lot in that fight.”

As if hearing your next question forming, he interjected, “That’s all I will say. Why did you care so much about me eating?”

The change in topic throws you. All bubbling questions leave your mind as you try to focus on the answer.

“You still don’t seem to fully trust me, you haven’t shown any concern earlier, so why now?” He asks as if to clarify his question.

“I don’t know. I’m still struggling with it. These people act like decent people, the Empire must be the bad guys here for what they did to me and this town. I guess you are the closest thing I know to be good. You are trying to help me as far as I can tell, putting in more effort than Boba or anyone else so far, but here I am not offering any sort of help back. I get that I don’t know what I can and can’t do; however, that shouldn’t stop me from making sure my pilot is in fit condition. Maybe I hate your guts with my memories, maybe we were best friends. I’ll try to stay more in the moment and trust you until you prove otherwise, as long as you are more open with me about yourself. And not about your personal stuff, just tell me if you need rest or food, okay? It won’t ruin your scary image, I promise.”

He’s quiet as you hear him finish his food and set the plate back on the table. When you hear his voice again, it’s the blasted coder instead of sweet honey, much to your disappointment.

“Alright. Only if you do the same.”

You take that as permission to look at him again, so you stand and turn to him. His thighs are pressed to the bed as if trying to be close to you without crossing to your side of the room.

“We are pretty much on our own. I’m not used to counting on others, but you are too selfless and caring to be a burden. If I ask you something, I want you to be honest. I can’t help you if you end up passing out, having an episode, or worst of all: dying. I’ll do what I can to earn your trust.”

Your cheeks warm unwillingly. It sounded like Mando cared about you, so maybe you could trust him fully after all.

“Alright. Two-way street. Neither of us breaks these rules.”

“Fine. First question, is it alright if I sleep in here? Just as a precaution. I'll sleep in the chair, so you can have the bed."

The question catches you off guard. You honestly didn't know. The idea of him just watching you while you tried to sleep didn't sound like a lot of fun.

"Uh, are you actually going to sleep or just watch me the whole time?"

He seems to realize the way that sounded stutters a little, "I-no, uh, I meant, stay in here and sleep so I can be here in case something happens. Which it shouldn't, but just in case."

"As long as you promise to actually sleep. You need rest just like anyone else, you know that right? As far as I know, you aren't an android or anything. Are you a species that doesn't require a lot of sleep?"

He sighs and makes his way to the refresher off to the side of the bedroom, "Just get some rest."

Rectuantly, you lay down to get some sleep. The bed is cold from lack of use along with the night temperatures. You can hear water running as you lay there staring at the ceiling along with soft clanging as you imagine Mando removing his armor. You couldn't sleep with that kind of stuff going on. The mental image of what Mando might look like under the armor paired with that voice had your thoughts racing.

Once the door opens again, you catch a glimpse of Mando in just sleep clothes and his helmet before he turns off the light. It's a startling sight. Casual clothes and only his helmet? You never expected this. It was like seeing a rare creature out mythology in comparison to this. Almost intimate. You could see some tan skin barely peeking out of his tunic. He was still broad and large, yet more human. The skin looked human at least.

This was going to be a long night.

Sure enough, the next morning had left you waking up exhausted. Even knowing you were safe with Mando, the thought of a strange man at the foot of you bed still left you feeling restless, almost exposed. You had tossed and turned all night only catching bits and pieces of sleep every so often. When you awoke, Mando was already gone from the room. His weapons and armor were gone as well.

Leaving the room and entering the kitchen brought you back to a life outside of Mando and traveling with possible threats following you everywhere. Ko's family was already up and fixing breakfast together. The grandson, Jax, looked up to see you enter the kitchen. He grabbed your hand and dragged you over to help fix food with them. They were nice people that went to lengths to make you feel safe and at home with them.

You tried to make efforts to get to know them. It felt awkward with the almost hero worship they treated you with though. You had no idea how you had helped these people and if you even deserved it. What if Mando had just made it sound like you had helped so you wouldn't feel worthless?

They all had their own things to do after breakfast. Jax went to school, Ko's wife went out back to tend to her garden, and Jax’s parents, Lillian and Idris, went to visit another family. Ko at least invited you to drink tea on the back porch while watching his wife work in the garden. You gladly accepted.

"It is nice to have you and the Mandalorian back in our city. It's a good reminder that we are not easily forgotten. Mando did tell us you have been forced to forget everything, including yourself.”

You hum into your tea mug, noncommitedly, "Some Empire jerks took my memories. All of them. I don't remember ever being here."

"Well, I'm sure a part of it would be gladly forgotten. We were not a happy place until you and Mando came along. Ahsoka as well. Of course, it's not hard to expect from a Jedi. That is what they do."

"A Jedi?"

"Yes, the guardians of peace in the galaxy. You really have forgotten everything." His gaze of pity just makes your stomach turn. You didn't want pity. You didn't blame anyone but the people who did this to you.

"Is there anything you can tell me about myself? What was I like?"

Ko laughs in response, a genuine belly laugh, "You were a spit fire. You saw the injustice that was going on and you personally wanted to take on every guard and mercenary yourself. Mando had to hold you back. If it hadn't been for the need to find Ahsoka, you would've killed anyone in your way."

You couldn't help your eyes bulging our of your head. You? Killing people? Fighting in general? It was a crazy idea. You wanted to think this old man was crazy, but there was plenty of lucidity in the old man's eyes. He was telling the truth.

"What did I do? How'd I fight?"

"In any and every way. You didn't hold any punches. You used anything within your range. Blasters, staffs, even your fists. You were a sight to behold. You were kind to everyone in the city that was being held hostage here. You did whatever it took to free us. We are extremely grateful. We will do what we can to help you."

Once you had finished your tea, you left Ko to his own devices in order for you to think over everything he told you. You retreated to the solitude of the room you were sharing with Mando to rummage through the thoughts flying through your brain. The fear of accidentally triggering another violent memory had you curled up on the bed. Nothing happened though. You had taken a hot shower to calm down and changed into the clean clothes Leeda provided, yet now here you were with the spear you had stolen from Utapau. Mando had let you keep that at least. You were holding it trying to see if it felt familiar in your hands like a hidden instinct or muscle memory. Nothing was coming to you though.

You waited until night to check in with Mando. Perhaps a tad bit reluctantly, but you did worry about him being out there by himself.

"Mando, you there?"

The crackle in the communicator filled your ear and then his voice filled your head, "I'm here. Is everything okay?"

"That's what I was going to ask. Everything's fine. Just a little boring. It's almost strange to be living a quiet life after the past few days."

He chuckles lightly into the communicator, "I'm sure we will be on our way into trouble eventually. It's typical for me."

You smile tightly. You could wait on the trouble. "Any sign of Ahsoka?"

The answering sigh tells you enough, but still he answers, "None yet. I'm just trying to pick up any sort of trail. I'm found her camp from last time I met her and it looks abandoned. The only clue I found so far. It looks like she dismantled her camp fairly recently so that’s a sign she’s been here at least.”

"Hopefully she's okay and this isn't a wild bantha chase."

"I'm sure she is. She's a powerful warrior."

"Yeah, Ko said she's a Jedi. Apparently that means she's some sort of warrior."

"What else has Ko been telling you?"

"Just that apparently I know how to fight expertly as well." Your tone turns accusatory.

"Yes, you do. Don't ask though, I don't know where you learned or even all the things you can do."

Your pettiness still gets to you a little as wish him a quick goodnight and cut the line. It still frustrated the amount of information everyone knew. You really needed to stop taking it out on Mando. You felt a little guilty as you went to bed that night.

------------------------------------------------------

The next morning brought your regrets to the surface again as you awoke to a sudden boom and shaking of the house. Screams followed the explosion as the reverberations faded away. You practically fell out of bed running towards the door to find where you hoped the others would be.

You call out for Ko and the others but there’s no response. You look throughout the house and finally find them all gathered by a door offset from the kitchen. Ko had gathered his family and was leading them down through the door down a set of steps leading to what you assumed was a basement when you cried out to them, "What's going on? What was that sound?"

Ko turns to you and grabs your arm leading you to the basement, "The Empire is back. It's a small party, but they are bombing the city!"

Your heart freezes. Is this because of your vision? Is this all happening because of you? Guilt flares in your heart. If you caused all of this pain and suffering, kriff, probably some deaths, all because of your presence, you didn’t know how you would forgive yourself. You reach up to the communicator in your ear only to find it missing. In your confusion and haste to find the others you had left it behind in the bedroom. You left it on the table like a mindless wamp rat.

You turn to run back to the bedroom all the while Ko tries to yell at you to come back to the safety of the basement. You hear more explosions outside, but you have to let Mando know. The basement won’t be safe for long if the house falls down around them. Mando may not be able to do much, but you have to warn him so he won't walk into a trap and possibly find Ko and his trapped family should the worst happen.

You reach your room and pratically fling yourself onto the table to grab the communicator. Stuffing it into your ear, you immediately open the channel. "Mando!"

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"The Empire's here!"

[voidsentprinces]

FGO is a mythological fanfic clusterfuck...

Prologue: You are an unassuming man or madam who briefly meets their classmate, Mash. And angers their tsundere superior in Chaldea. An organization made to stop the end of the world. The one guy standing around and dressed like “I am an evil villain”. Turns on Chaldea and all the people suppose to go get blown up before they can embark on their first mission. This explosion sends you flying into Fuyuki with your Tsundere Superior and your classmate turned servant. You are the worst choice to save humanity from the end of the world. But now the only option.

Storyline of Fuyuki: Ah, good to be back in OG Fuyuki. Except everything is one fire, most of humanity is dead, and you have to escort a tsundere superior around while your classmate learns how to be a servant. Everyone is evil except Cu Chulainn who is a wizard and is your drunk uncle here to impart wisdom and snark.

Storyline of Orleans: Jeanne D’Arc comes back as Darth Vader leading an army of other historical villains including Elisabeth Báthory , Dracula, Marie Antonette’s Executioner, the Phantom of the Opera, and Darth Lancelot. You team up with Jedi Master Jeanna D’Arc as well as a younger for some reason dragonkin version of Elisabeth Báthory (just to make thing confusing), Marie Antionette, Motherfuckin’ Mozart, Kiyohime and Sigfried to stop her. Also dragons are everywhere. Darth D’Arc exists because Bluebeard wanted to give her catharsis.

Storyline of Septem: What if Emperor Nero wasn’t completely off his fucking rocker, came back as a fashionable wife, and has to fight previous Roman Emperors to get back Rome? Including a rotund Julius Caesar, an incoherent batshit Caligula, a young Alexander the Great and his hapless future successor who is an adult and just as confused as you, and Romulus. Whose death spawns Attilla the Hun as a space dressed waifu. And just to make their roles in history null and void. You enlist the help of Boudica and Spartcus to aid you. Also Jing Ke and mecha Lu Bu are there too.

Storyline of Okeanos: What if Francis Drake was a big tiddie pirate wife. Alright what if previously to your arrival she 1 v 1′d Poseidon and WON!? Alright now what if after getting her help, you fought Eric Bloodaxe, got trolled by Euryale to re-enact the myth of the Minotaur. But then the Minotaur turned out to be a good boi and joined you. Also Artemis carrying around Orion, Atlanta and David, King of Israel is there. So is Jason and some of the Argonauts but like just Medea and Heracles. Replacing the other Argonauts with Hektor from the Trojan War. Also you have to punch Blackbeard with Mary Read and Anne Bonny.

Story of London: There’s fog every where. You have to join forces with Traitor Knight, Mordred, Doctor Jeckyll, a kid Hans Christian, and Frakenstein’s Bride. Contending with Jack the Ripper, Mephistopheles, Hoienheim, Mecha Babbage, a bunch of Mannequins, and then the Mist of London just sort of summoned Nicoli Tesla and Darth Arthur to fight too. At the very end Tamamo no Mae and Sakata Kintoki arrive just to exit stage left immediately.

Story of E Pluribus Unum: Medb wants to fuck Darth Cu Chulainn but he’s not that interested. So she decides to fuck up Wild West America instead. Making Beowulf the Warden of Alcatrez, Fergus mac Roich the Heavy, and then kidnaps Rama’s Wife before mortally wounding him. Also she has to fight against Lion Headed Mecha Edison, Helena Blavatsky. The two of which are using  Karna, Son of the Sun as the Bouncer. You convince a germ manic Florence Nightingale to aid you, pick up a wounded Rama on the way, as well as Robin Hood, Billy the Kid, young  Elisabeth Báthory again, Geronomo and Nero who is trying to be an actress to fight them all. Also Scathach, Fionn Mac Cumhill and Diarmid are there too. But they just do things at random and Li Shuwen randomly shows up too.

Story of Camelot: What if the entire round table was just a bunch of psychopathic zealots who worthship the ground Arthur walked upon. And then got into a fight with Ozymandius and Nitrocris for the lulls while launching a magical tactical nuclear strike on the entirety of Crusader State Middle East. All the legends of Hassan is trying to stop them but Arash is there too. Tawara Tota is also there to distribute a shit ton of rice. Nothing you do here really matters. But Bedivere shows up to aid in the lackluster ending. Xuanzang Sanzang is also there.

Story of Babylonia: Not Enkidu answers to giant Medusa who is pretending to be Tiamat. Bringing about a massive army of demons and monsters to wipe out humanity in prehistoric Mesopotomia. Leonidas, Ushiwakamaru, and Benkai are doing their best to fight off the hordes. After three Demons go out like bosses before your arrival. Also young Medusa and Merlin are there cause why not? After befriending a woman in a tiger kigarumi, Quetzacoltal, Ishtar, and Ereshikigal. You find out defeating giant Medusa was a ploy to summon the real Tiamat and shit goes down. You eventually drop Tiamat into the Underworld where the First Hassan dewings her after which Ishtar, Ereshikigal, and Gilgamesh work together to defeat her. Ushiwakamaru is captured and comes back as an evil version of herself but with the aid Nekai and Quetzacoltal going out in a blaze of glory you defeat them all.

Story of Saloman: Every servant shows up to fight off Soloman and his Demons, turns out Soloman is the daemon Goetia possessing the corpse of Soloman. And the true Soloman is actually your acting director and base medical doctor. After your classmate sacrifices herself you defeat Goetia and Soloman decides he’s good for now and peaces out taking Goetia down with him and restoring humanity. Bringing your classmate back to life in the process.

But wait THERES MORE! The remaining Demons who survive the Goetia fight decide they’re mad they lost. So create some singularities to air out their grievances. Trapping you and the staff of Chaldea in a time space continuum until you hunt down and take them all out.

Story of Shinjuku: The League of Evil comprising of James Moriarty, Yan Qing, Darth Emiya, the Headless Horseman riding the Spirit of Vengeful Wolves, and the Phantom of the Opera take over 1990s Shinjuku for the fun of it. You have to enlist of the aid of James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Darth Jeanne D’Arc, Darth Arthur Pendragon, and Edmond Dantes. Turns out Moriarty that was your ally was actually the true Moriarty and the one leading the League of Evil was the Demon you’re looking for. Summoning the power of all Fictional Detectives you defeat Moriarty. I shit you not.

Story of Agartha: Welcome to the Center of the Earth. Where the vast open plains are ruled by Darth Francis Drake, Penthesilea, and Wu Zetian. You are joined by Astolfo who takes the form of a cute anime girl but retains his gender, Chevalier d’Eon, and a young Fergus. Fighting the Queens and their respective empires with the aid of...sigh, Christopher Columbus. Surprising no one, Columbus turns out to be the true villain and with the aid of Shahrazad and a Demon almost Colony drops the Center of the Earth on top of the actual Earth, Age of Ultron style. But the power of friendship you win. Also Godzilla Heracles is running around.

Story of Shimosa: What if just after or before the Warring States period: Ashiya Doman, Yagyu Munenori, Minamoto no Raiko, Tomoe Gozen, Mochizuki Chiyome, and Shuten Doji showed up to fuck everything up? Including corrupting Hozoin Inshun just to be absolutely asinine? You get the power of a time traveling woman using the legend of Miyamoto Musashi to get into shenanigans. Also obtaining the aid of Fuma Kotaro and occasionally a robotic mecha Kato Danzo. The Demon sort of just appears backing Ashiya Doman.

Story of Salem: The Salem Witch trials but if done like the VVitch in a horror film manner. Not so much about the battles but about the atmosphere. As you, your classmate, Robin Hood, Charles Henri-Sanson, Nezha, Mata Hari, and the witch, Cirice posing as Medea for a few seconds there. Have to pose as a traveling circus of storytellers and entertainers. While the suspicions of the towns people grow darker. Ghouls and spirits begin to haunt the night. There are executions and the Demon turns out to be the one you least expect. The soul of a child is used to open up a gateway for an Outer God and shit goes down.

But wait there is even MORE!

Story of Prologue: You’ve hunted down and killed the demons. And now the world is back to normal. When a new force arrives to take over Chaldea in your stead. One of those new arrivals brings along an army to slaughter Chaldea and activates the end of the world by way of Alien Invasion. You get out of there in the nick of time via a magical meguffin mobile and now have to track down Lostbelts. Each one controlled by a King, a Master who was your former colleague who previously got blown up and now is now revived by the Aliens, and their servant as well. Good fucking luck chuck!

Story of Anatasia: Russia is fucked. Russia is SO FUCKED! That its been stuck in an Ice Age since the reign of Ivan the Terrible. The Russians are forced to use a magic to turn them into anthropamorphic beings and have been surviving barely due to the machanations of Saleri, Ivan the Terrible, Anastasia Romonov, the Master of this Lostbelt, and a particularly sadistic fox woman. With barely anything to go on and running out of fuel. You have to venture out into the eternal Russian Blizzard to get the aid of one of the locals, Avicebron and Darth Atlanta to defeat Anatasia, Ivan, and tear down their cosmic eldritch tree to restore humanity in that sector.

Story of Gotterdammerung: You made it out of Russia and into the Netherlands, where it seems on the cusp of Ragnarok. You are immediately facerolled by Sigurd being possessed by Sutr. Who is under the command of a master there. Enlisting the aid of Napoleon Bonaparte you fight back against Frost Giants, Valkyries, and Sigurd. Also enlisting the aid of Brynhildr to do so. You also have to contend with a girl made up of several goddesses and Scatach taking on the manter of Skadi.

Story of S I N: Out of the frying pan and into the China if it never left or evolved beyond the Qin Dynasty. Except for the Emperor who has become a giant space base, artifical intelligence reaching immortality. After having close calls with mecha centaur Xiang Yu, Qin Langyu, an older Li Shuwen,  Lanling Wang. The Emperor sees you teaching peasants how to read and coloney drops a piece of himself on the village. You send Spartacus to punch to meteor...I shit you not. And with the aid of Mordred, Jing Ke, Red Hare, and Chen Gong. You impress Emperor Qin to come out of his shell and reveal his butterfly god form. Also the Master in this Lostbelt is actually a fucking vampire.

And that’s all I’ve gotten to so far.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Face Me

Gif credit: @haloforsam​

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3673

Summary: The Winchester brothers are recruited by a former girlfriend of Dean’s to help with a haunting problem. As the case intensifies, Sam and Dean uncover the ghost’s origins and the reader’s dark secret. 

Notes: Welcome to the Winchester October Take Over! As always, as this month progresses, let me know what you think and buckle up for plenty of Winchester angst. This was totally inspired by Becky Barnes from the Starkids musical Black Friday. This is very very intense, but I hope you guys like it.

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Warnings: Extreme domestic abuse, violence, death (like I said, it’s intense so please please read only if you are comfortable)

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

It wasn’t a call you ever thought you’d have to make, but as police swarmed around you, you lifted the phone to your ear. You thought you had calmed down enough to speak, but as soon as you heard the voice on the other end, you felt the whole situation crash into you again, along with so many feelings you’d kept locked away in your heart. 

“D-Dean?” You sniffed, feeling your stomach drop as they brought the body out the front door, sealed up in a bag. “Oh god.”

“Who is this?” Dean’s voice was gruff and tired. You must have woken him up. 

“I’m sorry. You probably don’t remember.” You started to regret calling. After all this time, you couldn’t expect him to come racing to save you. Dean was quiet for a moment.

“Y/N?” Sam stirred awake and gave his brother an inquiring look. “Y/N, is that you?”

“Dean, I-” You tried to catch your breath. “I need your help.” 

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Something… something killed Danny.” Or someone. 

“Are you still in that same sleep town in Nebraska?” That’s all he needed to know. No details, no suspicious activity. You were in trouble. That was enough for him. 

“You know me. I never go anywhere.” You winced, thinking about the last time you saw Dean Winchester. There was a loud shuffle as Dean started to pack his things, motioning for Sam to do the same.

“We’ll be there by morning.” You uttered a tearful thanks and hung up. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked, climbing out of bed and grabbing his duffle bag. 

“You remember when we were in Nebraska for a few weeks trying to find that coven of witches?”

“The ones that were using high school kids in their ritual? Yeah.” Sam recalled a fiery English teacher that Dean had dated for most of their time there. 

“Y/N’s brother is dead.” Dean said somberly. 

“The one that bought us drinks after we saved some of the kids?” Dean nodded. “Damn.” He was a good guy. “She thinks it’s our kind of thing?”

“I don’t know. Y/N’s one tough broad, Sammy, and she-” The sound of your trembling voice echoed in his head. “She sounded scared.” By the look in his eyes, Sam knew how important this was to him. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” He zipped up his duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Let’s get to Nebraska.” 

-

You spent most of the night answering police questions and carefully watching the windows. He was in there somewhere. Waiting for you. Once the ambulance and the police were gone, you didn’t dare go back inside. Instead, you curled up on the porch swing and broke down. This was your fault. Danny was gone and that cruel smile was burned into your brain. He was coming for you. 

You must have fallen asleep because the bright morning sun and the low rumbling of an engine pulled you out of your nightmare. You’d never been so happy to see that beautiful car. 

Sam got out of the passenger side and you slowly walked towards him. You had to restrain yourself from just crashing into him to be safely wrapped in his arms. 

“Your hair’s different.” You noted with a small smile. He pulled you into a hug. 

“I’m sorry about Danny.” He whispered, pulling back to give you a sympathetic smile. Behind him, his brother waited anxiously, straightening the sleeves of his jacket. He hadn’t changed at all. 

“Dean…” You gasped, memories flashing through your head faster than you could register them. The first touch. The feeling of his flannel wrapped around your shoulders. Your last kiss. 

“Hey.” He greeted. Neither of you moved. You just looked at each other, both wanting to say something but not having a single clue as to what. 

Suddenly, it hit you. What might have been. How different everything would be. Danny would still be alive. When your eyes started to fill with tears, Dean enveloped you in his arms without a second of hesitation. Feelings he had tried to forget came rushing back, but he tried his best to ignore them. That’s not what you need right now. So he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He wished more than anything that you had reunited under different circumstances. He knew how much your brother meant to you. He ran his hands down your arms. You felt like ice. “Jesus, Y/N, you’re freezing. What, did you sleep out here or something?” He quickly shed his jacket and draped it over you. 

“Why don’t we head inside?’ Sam suggested. “Talk about what happened.”

“No.” You responded a little too quickly, earning a strange look from both Winchesters. “Why don’t we talk down at the diner? Breakfast’s on me.” They exchanged a skeptical look, but agreed nonetheless.

People were already whispering when you walked in. Word traveled fast. As uncomfortable as the stares made you, anywhere was better than home. 

“Hey Josie, can I get a few cups of coffee?” You asked the only waitress who wasn’t too busy gossiping about you. She gave you her usual smile. 

“You got it, sweetie.” At least you still had one friend. The three of you picked a booth, Dean sitting on the other side and Sam sliding in beside you. He put a hand on your arm. 

“Can you tell us what happened?” You tried to ignore Dean’s worried gaze and took a deep breath. 

“I’ve been living with Danny for a little over a year now.” Just tell them. Just tell them. “After Isaiah left, I needed a place to stay.”

“Isaiah?” Dean stiffened. You couldn’t look at him. 

“My husband.” Both Winchesters froze. 

“Oh.” Was all Dean said. You set down your coffee mug a little too fast and the hot liquid splashed onto the counter. 

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” You tried to clean up the mess with your napkin, your voice sounding more flustered than you intended. After all this time of keeping the secret, why was it so hard to lie to them? “He’s gone now.” Sam was the first to speak. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was so sincere, you felt yourself choke on your words, the emotion becoming too much. 

“What matters now is destroying what killed Danny.” 

“Do you have any idea what it was?” Sam asked. Dean seemed very interested in the inside of his mug. You wanted to tell him the truth, but the words caught in your throat. “Y/N?”

“I don’t know. One minute he was fine and the next his head was cracked open.” You closed your eyes, remembering that awful scene. You felt a hand rest on top of yours. Dean had reached across the table, his warm touch giving you enough courage to keep going. “The police can’t figure out how anyone else got in the garage, what the murder weapon was, or anything that could give me an answer. So I called you.” Sam and Dean exchanged a look. 

“We’ll do what we can.” Sam promised you and Dean nodded. 

“And we’ll fry this son of a bitch.” 

-

Without a good enough excuse not to go back, you took Sam and Dean to the house. The police had cleaned the scene so you were able to get in. Dean stopped by the garage and laughed softly to himself. 

“Still working on the bike.” He mused. You smiled slightly. 

“He finished restoring it last year.” That motorcycle was Danny’s prize possession. A 1984 Disc Glide Harley Davidson. It was one hell of a bike. He had been washing it when he died. 

“So… married.” Dean blew out a long breath. You looked away. 

“After you left, Isaiah was… the normal I thought I needed.” You almost laughed. How wrong you were. “And then after a couple months he was… different. I guess I was too.” You thought of every red flag that you had missed, every great big warning sign you chose to ignore. 

“Ah,” Dean nodded. “Normal.” You looked at him, shaking your head. 

“I was wrong.” He read the glint in your eye that you had tried to hide. Your ex scared you. 

“What went down between you?” His question wasn’t out of plain curiosity. He knew there was something you weren’t telling him. 

“He started vanishing into the beds of barmaids and the occasional tennis coach until he didn’t come back.” You shrugged, hoping that he would buy the lie. He didn’t, but he didn’t ask you anything else. 

“Hey guys, I think I found something!” Sam shouted from the living room. He was holding up a picture of you and Danny from a couple years ago. It looked fine. “Check this out.” Sam turned the farm around, revealing the words scratched into the back of the frame. Your heart stopped. Face me.

“Face me?” Dean read. “What the hell does that mean?” He and his brother both turned to you. 

“Does this mean anything to you, Y/N?” Sam asked. All you could hear was Isaiah’s voice. 

“Face me you stupid bitch!” You instinctively pulled Dean’s jacket tighter around you even though you knew they couldn’t see what you had hidden under your shirt. 

“Y/N?” Sam repeated. Both brothers were staring at you waiting for an answer. 

“You know Danny. He used to get in bar fights all the time. Maybe one of them died and wanted to get revenge?” You wouldn’t have believed it either . Dean ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“Look, we can’t help you if there’s something you aren’t telling us.” He snapped. “What the hell is going on?”

“My brother is dead, Dean!” You shouted. And it was all your fault. The two fell totally silent and you tried not to cry again. “Sorry. I’m just… tired.”

“Maybe you should just take it easy for the rest of the day. We’ll go back into the history of the house and see if there were any violent deaths.” Sam suggested sweetly. 

“Don’t leave me here.” You pleaded, grabbing Dean’s hand. “Please don't leave me alone.” 

“Hey, it’s okay. I won’t.” Dean assured you. What the hell was going on. He briefly turned to his brother. “Sammy, why don’t you head to the library and I’ll take Y/N to the motel?” 

“I’ll call you if I find anything.” Sam gave you one last concerned look before heading out. Dean gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Let’s get you out of here.”

-

The motel room was relatively nice compared to the other places they had stayed. You sat on Dean’s bed and took off his jacket. 

“Here. You probably want this back.” You held it out, but he shook his head. 

“You can keep it until we get this son of a bitch.” He pulled up a chair across from you and you couldn’t help but check him out. Those muscles under his shirt, his perfectly messy hair, his unreal green eyes. He really hadn’t changed at all. 

“Do you ever think about it?” You blurted suddenly. 

“Hmm?”

“About how we said goodbye?” Dean looked at the floor. 

“Sometimes.”

You had thought about it nearly every damn day for the past three years. After facing the witches, it was time for Dean and Sam to move on to the next hunt. Dean had fallen in love with you, which was not something he usually allowed himself to do. You knew that you loved him and it scared you. The man hunted monsters, for god's sake. So when Dean asked you to come with him… you said no. 

“Look, Y/N, I don’t hold anything against you.” Dean started, “I mean, we’d only been together a couple of weeks and you were still teaching and, you know, I had just killed a bunch of witches pretending to be lunch ladies. 

“Dean.” You crossed to him. “Not leaving with you… It’s the biggest regret of my life.” Dean stood, eyes intense. YOu weren’t sure who kissed who first, but just like that, the years melted away. You quickly threw his jacket over the chair and Dean lifted your legs up around his waist as he backed you towards the bed. His jacket joined his jacket. 

Dean’s hands slipped under your shirt, just grazing one of the lower scars on your back. You panicked and pushed away from him. 

“Wait.” You gasped, catching your breath. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t.” Too many questions that you didn’t know how to answer. “I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t-” Seeing how upset you were, Dean tried to relax, putting his hands on your shoulders. 

“It’s okay. You’re tired. Today has been pretty crazy. How about you rest?” He was being so sweet, which just made you feel worse for keeping things from him. 

“Will you lay down with me?” It seemed like such a juvenile question after literally tearing his shirt off. Dean just smiled. 

“Yeah, of course.” You both got under the blankets, keeping apart at first. You moved closer and he wrapped his arms around you, your back pressed against his chest. “Hey Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Sam and I are gonna keep you safe, okay?” His breath was warm against the back of your neck. “You can trust us.”

Dean knew that you were hiding something. Something that absolutely terrified you. He felt the marks on your back before you pulled away. For now, he would let you sleep. Hell, he could use a few hours himself. But sooner or later, he would find out the truth. He just hoped that it didn’t destroy you first. 

-

You slept without nightmares. It was so unfamiliar after so many sleepless nights that even as the afternoon light streamed through the windows, you slept more peacefully than you had in years. It wasn’t until you felt a rush of cold and turned around to cuddle closer to Dean. Your eyes fluttered open and you screamed. The spirit stood over Dean menacingly with a stone raised over his head. Even though half of his face was bashed in, you could see Isaiah’s furious scowl. 

“Dean!” You cried. Dean woke up and looked over his shoulder as Isaiah brought his hand down. Dean rolled out of the way, both of you tumbling off of the bed. 

“You cheating whore!” The apparition shrieked. Dean pushed you behind him and you screwed your eyes shut. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Y/N! Face me!” He reappeared, standing over both of you and raising the jagged rock over you. 

“Get down!” Sam burst through the motel door and fired two salt rounds into the ghost. Isaiah vanished. Sam hurried to his brother’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dean stood, eyes burning into you, demanding answers. “What the hell just happened?”

“I’m sorry.” You let terrified tears stream down your cheeks. “I should have told you. I should have told you.” Sam helped you to your feet, trying to calm you down. 

“Y/N, who was that?” He asked gently. There was now way to hide anymore, but you just stood there. Dean’s anger disappeared, connecting the spirit’s words and your fear. He cradled your face in his hands. 

“Sweetheart, we can’t help you unless you tell us what happened.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. You tried to pull yourself together. 

“It was Isaiah.” You sat on the bed and pulled your knees up to your chest. 

“Your husband?” Sam asked. You gave them a weak nod. 

“He didn’t leave me. I tried to leave him. He hurt me. He kept hurting me.” Every cut and every bruise stung now as if they were fresh. Dean gripped the back of the chair. “I told him I wasn’t going to let him hurt me anymore. He got so mad…” You gulped and turned around. You slowly lifted up the back of your shirt. Your back was a jagged puzzle of scars, some small and some stretching across your skin. 

“Oh my God.” Sam gasped. You kept your back to them, unable to look them in the eye. 

“He pushed me out of a glass door.” You pulled your shirt back down and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Our yard opened out to the river where there were some trees. So I just ran.” 

Dean closed his eyes, the entire scene playing out in front of him. The blood soaking the back of your shirt. Your crying pleas for help. It haunted him. He somehow felt like it was his fault. Like he should have been there to protect you. 

“I ran and I ran, but everything stung and it was hard to see straight with the pain. He caught me and shoved me to the ground. I was screaming, but nobody came. He wrapped his hands around my throat.” You sank further into your nightmare. “I grabbed a rock and hit him over the head. I just kept hitting him and hitting him and hitting him.” Your body shook as you cried. Nobody said a word for a long while. You were grateful. 

“Y/N,” Sam sat down beside you. “You didn’t have a choice.” 

“I shouldn’t have fought him, Sam.” You exclaimed. “If I hadn’t fought thim, none of this would have happened. Danny would still be alive.” Dean pushed the chair aside and crouched down in front of you, making you face him. 

“None of this is your fault.” He said sternly. “Not what he did to you when he was alive and not what he’s doing now. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault.” He pulled you to him and let you cry into his chest, gently stroking your hair to sooth you. He looked at Sam intensely. “We’re burning this son of a bitch tonight.” 

-

In order to find the body, you had to go back to the river. As you lead Sam and Dean through the grove of trees, Sam asked more questions. 

“It’s been a little over a year since everything happened, right?” You nodded. “Why do you think he’s back now?” You shrugged. You had been trying to figure that out too. You suddenly remembered a conversation you had had with your brother. 

“It’s because I’m leaving.” Of course. If you were gone, Isaiah wouldn’t be able to exact his revenge. He may have been tied to you, but he was also still tied to his body. Dean joined the conversation. 

“Leaving?”

“Yeah. I need to get out of this place. Get away from everything that happened here.” You sighed. “I guess Isaiah had other plans.” 

“Where will you go now?” Dean glanced over at you with a flicker of hope in his eyes. Before you could respond, you reached the North Platte and the tree you buried the body under. 

“This is it.” You forced yourself to stay calm as the memories flooded your head. Dean gave you a reassuring nod. “No one ever came looking for him.” It was kind of sad. Everyone in town just assumed that he left you and he didn’t have any family to worry about him. “I couldn’t bury him very deep with my back cut up like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to just throw him in the river. Monster or not, he was till my husband.”

It was late evening now so you didn’t have to worry about anyone stumbling upon the scene. The boys started digging, that lump in your throat getting bigger and bigger with every inch. Once the body was fully uncovered, you made yourself look at him. Sam and Dean stood on either side of you. 

“Alright Isaiah,” Dean started, lighting a match. “You’re not gonna hurt her anymore.” 

Both Sam and Dean were flung backwards and you felt icy cold hands wrap around your neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Isaiah hissed in your ear. He flung you into the tree, hitting your back hard. 

“Over here you freak!” Dean fired a salt round, but missed. Isaiah knocked him to the ground, slamming a rock against his temple. Sam rushed to help his brother and Isaiah simply raised his hand, throwing the younger Winchseter into the river. 

“Stop!” You tried to scream, but it just came out as a wheezing gasp. 

“We’re going to be just fine, Y/N.” Isaiah sneered. “Just as soon as you face me and learn your lesson.” He hit Dean again, this time knocking him out. You reached into your pocket. 

“Face this you son of a bitch.” 

You threw your lighter onto the body and watched it go up in flames. Isaiah raised the stone one last time before burning away. You ran over to Dean, your back aching with every movement.

“Please please please.” You begged, holding his head in your hands, his blood oozing from his temple and onto your palm. 

“Y/N!” Sam called out, crawling out of the water. “Dean!” 

“Come on Dean.” You cried. “If you wake up, I’ll say yes this time.” You leaned down, pressing a desperate kiss to his lips. 

“That’s gotta be my favorite way to wake up.” He teased, his green eyes slowly opening. 

“Shut up.” You shook your head and laughed, pulling him into your arms. 

-

Sam packed the last bag into the trunk and gave you a small smile before getting in the passenger seat. Dean had his arms around you, his hands soothingly running up and down your back. 

“I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed dramatically. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m going to be right behind you.”

“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to the motel.” He gave you a cheeky grin and pulled you into a passionate kiss. He went to the car and you revved Danny’s Harley to life. Dean pulled the impala out of the driveway, you trailing on the motorcycle. You followed that beautiful black car down the open road, ready to face anything.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto;

[handcoversheart-76]

Peter starts wearing these sweaters- big and soft and warm. The sleeves hang a little bit past his wrists and the material has all of these little fuzzy lint balls, so when he steps into the sunlight that's streaming from the window he looks like he's glowing. Sometimes he'll wear one that's off-white and he'll look like the swirl of Sam's french vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon that he gets in an early morning (just a coffee with a little milk for Peter though), and sometimes he'll wear one that's dark green and rich, making the depth in his brown eyes widen and the intensity in his face deepen when he's lost in thought.

Sam spends a lot of time looking at Peter now. More than he did before. And he looked at him a lot before. He's not even ashamed to admit it. It's one of his official pastimes now- work on American Vandal with Peter, talk to Gabi about Peter, and look at Peter while he wears his sweaters.

He spends a lot of time wondering about Peter too.

He wonders whether Peter's sweaters are actually as soft as the seem in the glow of the morning. He wonders if the inside is scratchy against the skin- or maybe it's fuzzy like the Sherpa pullovers Gabi and her friends wear. He wonders about the warmth collected there, about the way Peter will stand when he's deep in thought, his arms crossed, hands tucked under his own armpits, chewing at his bottom lip. He wonders whether the sweater smells like him at the end of the day- like old books stored in a library and eraser shavings and vanilla from the servings of his mom's tres leches that he brought in to split with Sam at lunch.

"-television light will make the film seem crisp, but we don't want the subjects to look like they're undergoing a surgery," Peter is saying, flipping through ring light options. A bulb busted on their old one- they've been placing bets on it to see how long it'd last. Sam said at least a week. Peter said three days. Giving over ten bucks for losing was worth it when Peter did that knowing little tsk at him that makes Sam's stomach flutter. "Maybe we can try something softer to change things up. Make things seem more inviting."

Sam absently wonders if Peter's philosophy works with clothing too- the softer the better.

It certainly serves to make things more inviting.

"-or, I don't know, harsh is cool, I mean, we want to be taken seriously, right?"

Sam has just enough mind to make a noise of agreement. Only half of him is paying attention. the other half is wondering whether Peter's neck is warm under the collar of his coffee colored sweater. maybe if Sam tucked his fingers under there, pressed against the warm skin, nudged against the beating pulse that's hidden away-

"-maybe I'll buy an elephant lamp and put it right in the middle of the room by the subject's feet so that when we film there's an elephant silhouette going across their faces."

Sam blinks. "What?" He croaks.

Peter glares halfheartedly. "I knew you weren't listening. Should I go light shopping by myself? Cause i wouldn't mind cashing this in as an spam favor."

Sam flushes, shaking his head, knocking his brain back on track. "I- no, I'm listening. Save your spam for this weekend or something cause I want to clock mine in for the week of winter break."

"The week of winter break?" Peter frowns. "What type of favor are you gonna ask for?"

Sam's mouth moves faster than his brain does, and he goes, "I might be cold."

"Y- you might be cold?"

"Yes." Sam says blankly. He wants to pass away. "Cold. That is what I will be on the week of winter break. Maybe. Possibly."

"Are you planning to be cold or is this just-" Peter cuts himself off, interrupting his own line of thinking the way that he does sometimes and Sam, not for the first time, wants to kiss his nose. "How am I supposed to help you with this?"

"Sweaters." And that's the only thing that comes out of his stupid, gay mouth.

Oh god.

Peter's nose wrinkles. "You mean my sweaters?"

Sam just nods miserably. He's so far down. He might as well keep digging.

"You..." Peter falters, squints, tilts his head like a Labrador puppy. "You want to cash in your favor by asking my for my sweaters when you're cold?"

"You always look really warm?" Sam says, voice rising and making it a question. It's the only excuse he can think of, sue him.

Peter is quiet for a moment. Thinking. Sam is also thinking. He's thinking about how quickly he could get out of this situation if he stood up, went over to the window, unlocked it and just pitched himself out face first. It would be fine he decides. He'd plead a bout of insanity and then Peter will write off this whole sweater spiel as a figment of Sam's mental break and everything will be like it never happened.

Besides, a broken face is better than a bout of embarrassment. A broken face would only last for, what, a year and some change tops? Embarrassment lasts for a lifetime.

Sam is still mulling over his window plan when peter peels off his sweater- which, oh my god malfunction, malfunction, there is a brief flash of skin right in front of Sam, oh my god- and chucks it at Sam. Sam fumbles to catch it, blinking with huge eyes.

Peter looks a little bit red as he adjusts his tee. "There- uh- so you don't have to waste your favor on being cold."

"oh." Sam doesn't dare look down at the sweater in his hands. "Um. Thank you."

Peter nods jerkily, eyes drifting to the side. "Don't mention it. Anyway, so- the light-"

And Peter turns away, determinedly moving right along while Sam is still stuck where he is, stuck in that moment. He turns his gaze down at the sweater in his hands, fingers clenching around the heavy wool. Peter is still talking and Sam is not paying attention, now overcome with the need to pull the sweater over his head as quickly as possible, like he'd be able to feel Peter still in it if he tried. When he does, he finds that the inside is soft like he expected, and the warmth of it melts into Sam’s bones- but the whole of it all was realizing yes, Peter is sugar sweet like homemade cakes and dusty from the morning show storage room and Sam thinks he's drunk off of this- really, it's almost too much to have.

Peter turns back around and for a brief moment Sam thinks he's been caught. Not just not paying attention, but also actively pining like a true weirdo of a best friend- smelling the sweater is going to be the final straw, he's sure of it, this is just getting pathetic now-

But Peter just pauses, eyes wide, a strange look on his face. "Oh." he says, like that is supposed to mean something to Sam.

"Pete?" He questions carefully. "You okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Yes!" Peter says, and it comes out strangled. "No! I mean- I mean, yes, I'm okay and no I will not pass out. Maybe. Um- you- you're- uh- are you warm now?"

Sam nods. "Yes. Very. This is- it's a nice sweater."

"You should keep it." Peter blurts. "It looks better on you."

Sam highly doubts that, but Peter has never seen himself walk into the morning show film room with that one black braided turtleneck, cheeks colored and half of his face tucked away from the cold. Peter has never seen himself take a break from researching to stretch up to the sky so far that the hem creeps up to show his stomach. Peter doesn't know that Sam thinks about slipping his cold hands under there, brushing along the plains of warm skin that he can only steal glances of.

"I don't think-" Sam goes to say but Peter is shaking his head, throat working.

"No really, and uh, borrow my sweaters anytime you need to. Any of them. All of them." He finishes, looking half mortified and half like he was impulsed to say this- like if he didn't get it out it would be rattling around in his head for days.

"When I'm cold?" Sam clarifies.

"When you're cold."

"Well, I should say, I get cold a lot." Sam says slowly. "Like, very often. Annoying often."

"It wouldn't be annoying." Peter reassures. "And I've got lots of sweaters- I can't wear them all at once. We can- we can share them."

Sam nearly passes out right then and there. The thought of tugging at Peter's sleeve in the middle of working and having him peel it off right then and there to give to him is- it's very-

well, Gabi would say that's very boyfriend-ish Sam in that tone she takes sometimes. Her, i-cant-believe-youre-sitting-here-pining-at-me-instead-of-going-and-talking-to-him, tone.

"That sounds good." Sam manages. And he manages to not sound too excited or lovesick or absolutely mental- just a normal, regular, casual tone for all the normal, regular, casual things that are happening. It's all good.

"Good." Peter says, and he also sounds normal and regular and casual. His arms are bare because Sam is wearing his sweater and Sam might be a little bit high on the feeling but it's okay, this can just be another normal, regular causal thing that they do. Exchanging clothes just like actual boyfriends do- literally no big deal.

And yeah, maybe he might call Gabi later to scream but that's normal and regular and casual too. It is all good. Seriously.

For now, he just slides off the desk and joins Peter at the computer, letting their shoulders brush and then just- not moving away. Peter kind of sways a little like he's dizzy but nudges back and presses there.

"So, this elephant light-" Sam says, glowingly happy and brilliantly lucky. He's got Peter and a new sweater and a crush that makes his head all scrambled and his chest a mess. "That doesn't have to just be a joke-"

"Sam, I'm going to kill you, honestly."

~ gifted to @grasslandgirl and @aberfaeth bc this fandom is how you met and that is the most adorable thing ever