#She was bullied as a child for not liking any boys so her brains been on the defensive since then

[sharpest-point]

uuuuugh i hate my braaaain i hate how i think anyone not in my friend group suckssss I want to make more friendsssss but my stupid brain doesn’t let me I don’t know why im like this ughh

[pastrydragon]

The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost

While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.

I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.

We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.

And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!

I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.

Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.

Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!

And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.

And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.

Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I am politely asking for a bit more on Königs son the angst is so yummy 🥺

König loves his baby boy... Until it starts to talk.

He absolutely adores the baby when it’s born, he can’t sleep at nights because he has to go and check if the boy is still breathing in the crib. König loves to hold him close and rock him in his lap, wants to give him baths and even changes the diapers, is so invested in the little chubby nugget that it’s a bit perplexing to see him so babbly cuddly towards someone who isn’t this poor Prince’s mother.

But when the boy doesn’t need him so much anymore, when he starts to show independence and express his own will, starts to walk and run and hide and talk back to him, it makes König uncomfortable.

He’s not in control anymore, he’s not needed. He’s the one who’s always away, he’s the unfamiliar face, the stern voice, the “strange man”, the one who makes the boy look angry or afraid. He becomes the bad guy.

It’s not bullying if his own son doesn’t prefer him, König knows it. But it still hurts to feel like an alien in his own home. It feels like a personal insult to be the last choice once again.

König’s son sees his father as a judge, a tyrant, a competitor because every time he’s home, mum’s all hearts and smiles. The parent who’s supposed to represent the whole world to our Prince suddenly becomes weak and clingy and needy.

And for what? For some big foreign man who stares him down as if he’s nothing but dirt under his boot. Asks him if he’s been nice to mum and if he’s helped her with the chores. When mum’s not in hearing distance, König tells him he shouldn’t trouble her with his crying and whining... If he’s nice and behaves, König will bring him toys from his “work trips”.

He rarely brings any because “he couldn't find anything”. Mum is the one who gets foreign delicacies, perfumes and the like. König’s son soon understands it doesn't matter how well he behaves because it will never be enough.

In his dreams, he tries to kill König every now and then. The old bastard only laughs. He laughs, even in his dreams because he’s weaker than him, not a threat at all, only entertaining when he gets mad… He laughs and just won't die.

Mum comes first, always. Whatever she says is the law. Whatever she wants, she shall have. The way his father worships this woman is eerie, disturbing, and invokes so much jealousy that König’s son is not sure who he’s even supposed to be jealous of. This stupid fucker or his mum who seems to lose brain cells every time this dick returns home and disturbs their peace?

Girls are both Madonnas and whores to him after he has watched this tyrant become a babbling, spineless mess over an upset woman. The world quakes everytime his mum is unhappy because her happiness is paramount. The only time he has seen König in tears was when his mum refused to talk to him one evening: the argument was about him, of course, and how König should apologize to their son, not to her. It takes manipulation and a passive aggressive lioness to make König say he’s sorry, but it does nothing to help the situation, quite the contrary. Who would give a fuck about a forced apology?

König’s son becomes a covert people pleaser who feels lonely wherever he goes. He’s a mama’s boy whose father seemingly hates him, an angel and a demon in one man, someone who believes his worth is measured by the things he achieves in life. How well he performs, how much money he makes, how independent he becomes. With women, another one always bites the dust, with work, he never seems to find his passion. And wherever he goes, whatever he does, nothing is ever enough.

The only way for these two to find a common ground is if the poor Prince manages to settle down with some patient, loving woman who gives him a child. A grandson or a granddaughter would make König fold and become a babbling mess once more; he's so pathetic and harmless with the baby that no one can be angry at him even if they wanted to. König would kill anyone and everyone who tried to hurt his family, even a blind man can see that.

Reconciliation happens slowly but surely, even if it's another kind of hurt to see the old man give this child all the love his son would've begged his knees bloody for. But beggars can't be choosers (and apparently a king's son has no crown), luckily König becomes softer in the head as he ages so a time may come when he thinks back on what he's done and finds the balls to wholeheartedly apologize. Might demand a touching family Christmas dinner and some whiskey though.

[decadentbutterflies]

No, it's about the brain rot of Sansa stans calling Dany evil and a colonizer etc. Or erasing/diminishing Sansa bullying Arya when we bring that up that she's not exactly kind, only when she wants to be.

Acting like Sansa is a perfect fit for a queen instead because she's kind and "everyone she touches becomes kinder" while she slowly poisons a child, her own cousin (she was even warned about how it hurts the boy) and then going "me and father have more important things to worry about", who's mother was murdered by the man she covers. Being classist...

You could argue that she does it out of fear (which I agree with except the feasts and classist behavior ofc). She is not "kind" like an average person would be. She isn't evil, but calling her kind and then acting like Dany isn't and calling Daenerys a tyrant is mind blowing. Dany personally feeds refugees and genuinely does her best to help people, while Miss Sansa throws feasts while the common folk is starving.

And the argument is... She killed slavers.. Oh noo, how dare she.

Also Sansa's bullying is another reason why people don't see her as kind (validly), but again people love to erase that and diminish it.

Or do even THIS lmao. I just knew there's going to be something "Arya is mean, Arya is bad" in the comments.

Yes, because Arya bullied her so much, like throwing peach on her after Sansa was her classist self (this was Arya's reply to Sansa saying "once she's the queen Arya will have to bow down to her" btw. she ain't becoming a follower like some fans wish for her to be).

She was bullied so much that she has trauma that she doesn't even believe when others tell her she's pretty. Sansa felt sooo out of place in Winterfell and lonely (not like she had any friends that followed with the bullying..) :'((

But thankfully we have Jon who's going to save her and marry her because he just LOVES the "waiting for someone to save her" type of girl! He can't stop talking about that kind of woman lmao.

Ofc. A Jonsa and Catelyn fan account lmao.

I can't make this sht up. That show should've never been made, I'm sorry, but it brought so many morons combining the show into the books and completely changed how fanon sees many of the characters.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter One - Wistful Thinking

Pairing: Bully!Dabi x Fem!Reader, (3rd Person)

Summary: If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you. She could almost laugh. By that logic, Dabi must’ve been fucking in love with her. That thought was what finally made the tears start to spill. Not because of how ridiculous it was or how isolating it felt. But because it was exactly what she wanted.

CW: Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Dubious Consent, Unhealthy Relationships, Bullying, Manipulation, Humiliation, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Power Play, Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm. Future Tags: Drugs, Alcohol, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Attempted Sexual Assault, Rough Sex, Hate Sex, Smut, Porn With Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst and Porn, Sadism

A/N: In celebration of Dabi's dance being animated, I'm posting the first chapter of a request for a Bully!Dabi fic that should've been a one-shot, but just went completely off the rails (where have we heard that one before? Lol). Currently, the fic will be completed at three chapters, but I actually really like the idea so it' not impossible that I might expand it further once Play Nice is completed. ^_^

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you.

That’s what her mother always used to say.

“I told you to get me orange juice.”

She flinched at the venom in Dabi’s tone as he glared up at her from his desk. She stood in front of him, ready for her reprimand like a dutiful employee. A good little slave.

His eyes narrowed when she didn’t answer, “Didn’t I?”

“Y-Yes!” she yelped.

“So what the fuck is this?” he demanded, grabbing the can she’d presented to him and waving it in her face.

She dropped her gaze to the ground, hands wringing anxiously. It wasn’t just the heat of Dabi’s glare or the bite of his words that was making it hard to stay standing. The sadistic amusement of his friends, Jin and Keigo, perched lazily on the desks around him were just as painful. Not to mention the rest of their class watching on with smug little smiles and whispers.

“T-They were out of orange juice,” she stammered, “So I got you orange-flavored tea…”

Dabi watched her, waiting for any more qualifications, any last excuses. But her eyes stayed down, lips stayed shut. The only change was in her now shuffling feet.

So he popped open the tab and took a drink.

“Hmm.”

Hope swelled in her chest. Maybe she’d done enough this time. She looked up tentatively. Bored, piercing blue awaited her. He held her there for a moment, letting her think, letting her settle into relief and security.

Catching her in a trap.

He smirked.

“It’s fucking disgusting.”

And threw the open can straight at her chest.

It hit her with an audible force, dousing her uniform and splashing all over the desk and floor.

Jin snorted out a laugh, “Oh shit.”

Keigo next to him was noticeably silent, just watching for her reaction.

“Seriously, how can you be this useless?” Dabi spat, pulling his legs off the desk before any of the tea could spread to his shoes.

Dripping, she tried desperately to fight the quiver from her lip. It was not a fight she was winning.

He stood with an annoyed sigh, “Now I’ve gotta go get it myself. Happy?

She didn’t dare respond, not with that familiar lump growing larger and larger in her throat. If she so much as breathed in that moment, she’d cry for sure. And crying in front of Dabi would only make things worse.

So much worse.

“Better clean up your mess before class starts if you don’t want to get in trouble,” he called back as he made his way to the door, Jin close behind him.

Keigo stayed for a moment, watching with furrowed brows as she knelt down on trembling legs into the spreading orange-tinted puddle. 

“Oi, Bird Brain. Let’s go!”

He quickly turned on his heel, following the call without a second thought.

She picked the can up, fruitlessly trying to stop the spill — it was practically empty at this point.

If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you.

She could almost laugh. By that logic, Dabi must’ve been fucking in love with her. 

That thought was what finally made the tears start to spill. Not because of how ridiculous it was or how isolating it felt.

But because it was exactly what she wanted.

Continue on AO3

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[bashvaughn]

a few months prior…

A few months prior, Sebastian and Jocalyn as a collective, had been nothing but distant, childhood memories of the past. Sweet and innocent, the budding friendship had come to a sudden and abrupt end when Josie and her family had travelled to Europe and further for some few years whilst her father and his band had completed successful tours after tours. And what was left behind was a particularly gutted 10 year-old Sebastian, having lost his best friend, and though today he didn’t grow so upset when he thought about Jo as he had done in his younger youth, his thoughts often crossed back to those times. He wondered how she was, what she looked like, and where she even was. Had she kept the necklace he’d gotten her? Did she even remember him?

He wasn’t entirely the same as he had been as a child. He was a sweet boy growing up, polite and kind, but after all these years, there wasn’t really much left of Seb Vaughn from 1988. He’d sort of just, well, vanished, one day, faded into the background. His older brother Nathaniel’s death had left a deep and empty wound in the bottom of his heart, still raw and unhealed seven years on. It had left him angry at the world and unable to express his emotions, when really, inside, there was still just that little boy who’d never really grown up, a little boy who just needed some assertion that whatever was going on inside his brain was okay. He didn’t spend much time at home, any opportunity to be out the house, he took; his relationship with his parents wasn’t exactly the best, not since Nate had died. It was hard watching your mother often breakdown once the working day finished.

Out the house. Yes. Being out the house was good. A party! He loved parties, rich kid parties were the best. They had the best sound systems, the most liquor, the biggest pools. The angry teenage boy wasn’t very popular amongst the younger students, amongst those that 1995 would class as “uncool”, as over time had turned himself into quite a bit of a bully, a thug or sorts who enjoyed taunting those less fortunate or lucky as him. But to the majority? He was rather sort after, envied in ways. Guys wanted to be him: he was the tallest kid in school, built strong and toned at 6’5” with a sharp jaw, played quarterback on the school football team, always had his brown curtained locks of hair perfectly swept back at all times. The girls wanted to be with him for all those very reasons. But sure, despite having a fling or two over the years, a couple of nights tangled in bedsheets, he strangely paid them little mind. He paid very few people any mind these days. Or anything.

He arrived as the sun had just set. A final all-out party in the school holiday before they returned back for the new academic year. One last send off. Some kid who lived just outside the city in some sprawling mansion. He walked up the steps of the house entrance with a bounce almost, pack of beer in his hand, his good friend since childhood, Brian, walking beside him. He wore a pair of blue denim jeans, a black belt secured around them, a red plaid shirt tucker inside, sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone, a tiny, silver hoop in his ear, cigarette packet in the pocket. The door wide open, he stepped inside to a house almost bursting full of students. It was loud and chaotic, full of booming music and disorganisation. The perfect party.

He was a presence amongst his peers, that could be said. Idolised in many ways despite the element of fear from some. You had to be when you’d just been made football captain for the new year after the previous one had graduated. He had a pretty intense reputation. Walking inside, he was greeted with happy cheers and welcomes from the students, the owner of the house walking over to him with a wide grin. “Vaughn, you made it!” Sebastian’s smile was never as big as anyone else, it was more of a just an upwards turn. Nodding, he greeted his friend, shoulder tapping him as a hello. “Sup, man.” He responded, ignoring the way people turned their heads a little. Turning to some of the partygoers, the house owner clapped his hands, “New captain himself, ladies and gents!” The teens nearby cheered, some downing their drinks as a toast of sorts.

Laughing quietly, he shook his head, “Touching — lemme get a drink, man.” He beckoned towards the large, open kitchen ahead, beginning to hear over in search of a clean red cup.

Sebastian was, however, obliviously unaware that there was also another big revelation in attendance tonight. A unexpected storm that arrived back with an awestruck greeting from students all around.

[theartfuldodger26]

L O V E for the ask game :D

You're really sweet, you know that, right? Thank you for the asks :)

L: Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn't one of your faves.

I don't like Snape due to the whole bullying kids for kicks thing (and having been bullied by teachers myself), but I have to admit he is very clever and a great Occlumens. Don't like saying it, but it's true.

O: Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

So, one of my favourite songs is Ghost River by Nightwish. It speaks of a child of r@pe that the river of dead children beckons him. It also sounds as though the singer is telling the mother of the boy that her only son will drown and become part of the ghost river. For some reason it makes me very emotional and reminds me of Tom Riddle and his mother, Merope Gaunt. And for some even creazier reason, I always imagine Bellatrix singing it to Merope with sadistic glee in her eyes? something is broken inside my brain for sure. Highly recommend any song by the band, though.

I'm gonna go listen to it on repeat till I fall asleep now, thanks!

He will go down, he will drown-drown, deeper down, The river wild will take your only child. He will go down, he will drown-drown, deeper down, If you want me, then do come across.

V: Which character do you relate to the most?

Oh boy, what a question. I mean, it depends on the level. On a superficial level, I guess that Hermione is a good representation of neurotic, night-and-day-studying, (supposedly) know-it-all me. But on a deeper level, I relate to the Bellatrix I have in my mind. She feels she has failed at her main goal, is deeply ashamed but still struggling to fix things. I'd rather not say more.

E: Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? Id so, what?

I'm so glad you asked, thank you!

I try to add humour to my fics and private HCs, because life is too sad if we take it too seriously. A small, but super fun, crack HC I have is that Tom Riddle/Voldemort has cartoon pockets, meaning he has put an Undetectable Expansion Charm in all his pockets, and carries with him pretty much his entire fortune with him at all times. So when Bellatrix or Harry go, "hey, ever heard of John Doe" or whatever, he casually just pulls out a photo album and finds John Doe. Or they might ask for a favour, checking out an item or fixing something, and he casually pulls out a microscope and an entire alchemy table and starts tinkering! Those are my two crack cents XD

Thanks again for the ask, I thoroughly enjoyed the questions!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

A Strange Sort of Family

hi, resident evil fandom, i'd like to throw my hat in the ring

look, i don't even really go here, the fandom mold just got into my brain and would not fucking leave. this is my first time writing any of these characters so if they feel a bit rocky, please forgive me. my media analysis brain has been spinning nonstop since we started the resident evil brain rot and ho boy would I love to sink my teeth into a proper horror fic but! i don't know if i'm there yet so i figured i'd start a bit easier for me :)

also--we all know there's no way ethan's just gone from the franchise now, right? like, sure, he's dead, but he died like 30 minutes into re7 and that didn't fucking stop him

ALSO also big shoutout to @dragonsareaqueerthing and @greenninjagal-blog for the encouragement to actaully make the words go :) hopefully i'll be spending more time in this fandom now that I've got that ball rolling

Read on Ao3

Warnings: talk about events of shadows of rose dlc, nothing explicit, bullying

Pairings: implied ethan/mia/chris, but Ethan & Rose is the focus

Word Count: 10,919

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Sometimes a family is a molded bioweapon, a traumatized agent, a former bioterrorist, and a series of golden, sparkly words. Sometimes family is decorating your room with your mother, sometimes family is hugging a pillow because your dad isn't here anymore. Sometimes family is training too hard and going out for ice cream, sometimes family is a dinner where your parents won't stop teasing you.

Or, five times Ethan Winters was there for his daughter, and one time Rosemary Winters was there for her father.

1.

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Okay, well, maybe slightly, but only in the way she's able to shake off some of the lesser things that would've made her really upset before. She's no longer threatening the lives of the agents that call her Eveline, to her face or behind her back when they think she can't hear them. Even when she really, really wants to. Small victories.

But despite her best efforts, she still returns to the cell block of a room—Chris had been so insistent that it wasn't a cell, but it was all concrete walls and a tiny window and a camera that she knows is in the corner—and curls up on her bed, jamming her headphones in and refusing to engage with the outside world until she could summon up the resolve to impersonate a normal person again.

Today had been no exception.

Rose throws her backpack onto her desk chair and slings her hat over the hook, kicking her shoes off and collapsing face-first onto the bed with a groan. More tests today, always more fucking tests. Didn't they have every inch of her shitty, moldy body cataloged by now? She has half a mind to start making shit up when they ask her the same stupid questions. 'How are you feeling today, Rose?' Oh, you know, just getting stuck with more needles than a fucking porcupine, how do you fucking think I'm feeling? Yeah, no, no homicidal instincts yet, just had one murderous thought the other day when I was imagining mold eating the bitch who called me a charity case. Although I did go to the park after I snuck away from that asshole you have tailing me on Tuesdays to see if I could amass a mushroom army, how was your day?

A small laugh leaves her throat at the thought of the doctor's face if she actually did say that, but then she'd probably have two assholes tailing her until they deemed her 'no longer a risk.' God, they were supposed to be these super highly trained agents, then why the fuck do they suck ass at being subtle?

Turns out, even having mold superpowers means she still has to breathe like a normal person, so she drags her face up from the bed and doesn't even bother to fully get up to inchworm up to the pillows. She mashes her face against the slightly cold surface—honestly, the best part about this prison-cell-ass room was that the air conditioning was always on Arctic, so her pillows were always cold—and grabs her phone, squinting at the notifications.

One from school saying her group project deadline was coming up…something from some shopping website she'd logged onto out of pure boredom three weeks ago…and a text from Chris.

Rose sits up a little more and opens the text. "Overseas this week…sorry I'll miss the—you fucking dick!"

Of course Chris is working this weekend, of course he's not gonna be fucking here to take her to the cemetery—great, that means another two hours of bus rides until she can actually go see her dad. She swears he does this on purpose sometimes, how often does he actually need to go overseas for 'work?' And it's not like anyone else here would be able to take her, she's learned her fucking lesson about asking them for anything more than more fucking food. Not bothering to stifle her groan, she flops back onto the bed, only for her phone to clatter out of her hand and onto the floor.

Great. Now she has to move again to pick it up.

She decides that moving is actually not what she's going to do right now, letting one arm hang over the edge of the bed, her cheek scrunched awkwardly against the lip of the mattress. She tucks her face against the collar of her jacket and rubs her thumb against the ring on her finger.

"Sorry it's gonna take me longer," she mumbles, "I really wanted to spend longer with you this time."

Her eyes widen when gold sparkling words appear on the floor next to her phone.

it's okay

"What the—" she whips around to look at the door, closed tightly, and jerks back— "how—"

The words are still there. The words are still etched into the floor, right next to her phone. She should check if they're on the camera—no, they can fucking hack into her phone whenever they want, and she doesn't—she can't—if this really is—

Rose swallows the lump in her throat as the words shift and change.

you ok?

"I—what—how are—" she swallows again, camera in the corner of the room, "uh, M-Michael?"

A pause as the words reform: sure

"I mean, I—I know," she says quickly, "I know what—I know what this is, I…I remember, it's just…"

camera, I know

"How is this possible?" she whispers, not daring to move from her haphazard scramble up the bed, "I thought you were—I mean, at the end, when we, uh, did the thing, it seemed like you were…that you were going again."

The words sparkle again as she grips the sleeve of her jacket—his jacket.

apparently i'm bad at it

"Bad at what?"

staying dead

Another laugh chokes its way out of her throat and she reaches out without thinking about it, just to touch the words. They glow a little bit brighter as she touches them and the tips of her fingers glow. Almost as an afterthought, she grabs her phone and shoves it behind her, hopefully muffling the microphone and at the very least, getting its cameras away from her dad.

Her dad. Those are her dad's words, that's her dad, he's here, he's here.

"Are you—is this…are you really here?"

sort of, as the golden words swirl around, part of you

"What do you mean, 'part of me?'"

not a scientist

"You're the only other m—person like me I know, I'm sure it'll be fine." She can almost hear the little huff of laughter as the golden sparkles swirl again. It seems like it's the same as it was when she was in there, with her dad only able to say a few words at a time.

i'm part of the mold, just like you, we're sharing a part right now

"Are you always sharing a part with me?"

i wish i could, and she feels her chest hurt a little bit, takes energy

"I guess that makes sense." Her arm begins to ache from being so stretched out. "I really miss you."

i miss you too sweetie

Fuck, she's 16, she should not be getting this choked up over her dad calling her 'sweetie,' but fuck it, she's a mold person and her dad's dead, she's allowed to sniffle a little when those words glow warmly under her fingers. Some hysterical part of her wonders if he'd be able to give her a tissue or a hanky the way he gave her guns and chem fluid in there, but she scrubs at her nose with her sleeve and decides that it's enough right now that he's here, in her room, still calling her sweetie.

***

2.

She almost recognizes it the second time, a tug in her gut. Given that she's got her hands over her face and is currently doing a fabulous impression of an angry seal, it'd be harder for her to see it. Still, she can't help the dumb smile on her face when she rolls over.

bad day?

"Oh, you know," she mumbles, "just your average day of being a human guinea pig."

ew

She snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle it. "You know I get a look at their notes sometimes? That's what they call you, just your initials."

surprised they're still talking about me

"What do you mean? Of course they're still talking about you, you're the—" she cuts herself off. The golden sparkles swirl.

i'm the what?

"Never mind."

The floorboards wait expectantly, but she twists the ring around her finger, chewing on her lip. After another moment, new words appear.

can i help?

"With what? With the tests?"

with you

Another tug in her gut, this time at the fact that she can't actually remember the last time someone asked after her, not their biggest liability or their most dangerous weapon. She props herself up on the cold pillows—thank you, government AC—and sighs. "I'm just really tired."

i bet

"Like—are they bored? What do they get out of sticking me with the same needle fifty different times? And it's not like they talk to me about anything, they just look at each other and then fake-smile at me and they tell me 'you're doing great,' like I'm supposed to know what that means. And the other people aren't any better! They keep trying to train me how to do a thing but they're not—it's not like they tell me why we're doing something or what I'm supposed to be doing instead, they just tell me I'm wrong and that's it."

that sucks

She huffs. "You have no idea."

After a moment, though, she realizes that might not actually be true. From what little she's actually managed to get Chris to tell her, and what she can learn from Mom, they were both held in BSAA's quarantine for ages before they moved over to Romania. And if Mom knew about Dad's…not-aliveness way before he did, then they must've done some sort of tests on him too.

"Can I ask you something?"

anything

"Did they, um, did they test you too?"

The floorboards stay empty for a minute, but it feels more like he's thinking than it does him avoiding the question. Sure enough, after another moment, words start appearing again.

they did, they didn't tell me anything either, just that i was lucky

"Lucky how?"

to have made it, even when i didn't

"You did, though," she mumbles, fiddling with the ring again, "you—this part of you made it. Chris told me, Mom told me. You…even after you were…gone the first time, you…you came back. The important parts of you, they came back."

and i'm grateful for it, for you

"You're gonna make me cry," she mutters, scrunching up a little tighter.

i love you Rosie

"Shut up." It's empty and they both know it. A few extra sparkles swirl around and she could swear he's laughing. "I love you too."

Sunlight streams in through her tiny window and she finds herself looking at the way the leaves on the tree dapple the shadow across the floor. Part of her dad's words are still glowing. She looks at the nightstand, bare except for her charger and alarm clock, then over at the desk where her school stuff is, then at the dresser. She reaches out and touches the metal bedframe. It's cold underneath her fingers.

what's wrong?

"Nothing." The words remain and she sighs. "I'm just being mopey."

you're allowed to mope

"Someone at school said something today," she says before she can think better of it, and she winces at how young she sounds.

bullies?

"Not really, it wasn't even really about me, I just—it's stupid."

if you're upset it's not stupid

"They were just talking about this thing they got for their room, okay?" Embarrassment makes her curl her fingers into the loose fabric of her jacket. "It's this mirror thing that hooks up to your phone and lets you play music and stuff from there. They were just talking about it and I thought—see, I told you it was stupid."

There's another pause. The breeze rustles the leaves outside. The shadows dance over the walls.

do you want it?

"Not really…I don't like mirrors that much anyway. And it's not like they'd let me just have another thing that connects to the Internet in here." She glances at the alarm clock. "I barely got them to let me get a laptop for school stuff. I don't think they've got a 'Mold Bioweapon Allowance' in their budget."

The silence grows thoughtful. She turns her head to look at the floorboards again, watching the few sparkles there swirl around.

it's your room, they say finally, it should feel like it

Rose scoffs. "What am I supposed to do, walk up and ask them to sponsor a shopping trip?"

why not?

"They're not gonna do that. They're just gonna brush me off again or tell me they're busy."

you've tried?

"I told you, I barely managed to get a laptop, which is something I need to be able to do schoolwork or anything, even have a taste of what being normal is like. And even then I had to argue for like, ages, and I had to get one of my teachers to write an email saying that it's necessary." She swats the white pillowcase, bitterness seeping into her words. "Everything else isn't necessary. They're all about practicality, like I'm just some other expense they have to deal with."

what about Chris? or Mom?

"Chris isn't here. He's always off somewhere doing something or he's here glaring at me like I'm some stupid new recruit that he doesn't want to have to train. And Mom's…I don't want to bother her, you know? She's got her own life now."

she's your mom, come the words almost before she's done speaking, she'd want to know

Rose sighs, sitting up to lean against the headboard. She twists the ring around and around her finger, chewing on her lip. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like she's…like she doesn't want to know."

Another pause. What her dad had said before, about them sharing a part of the mold—she can feel something in her chest. An emotion that isn't quite hers, something like a deep and exasperated sadness. It's faint, not quite enough to put words there, but she can tell when she needs to look back down at the floor.

she does love you, let her

"Okay. I'll try."

thank you

"Would you come shopping with me?" she asks, even when she knows the answer. "If you could?"

The room gets a little happier as the sparkles swirl around.

i'd spend all day with you

"What did you want to have in your room? When you were my age?"

telescope

"A telescope?" She laughs. "Did you want to be an astronaut?"

astronaut ew

She laughs again and the sunlight seems a little brighter.

***

3.

She meets Mom at a coffee shop near the big bookstore downtown. She's not wearing Dad's jacket—it still feels weird to do, even after Mom's said it's fine—but she has his ring on a necklace under her shirt. Mom waves her over to a table in the corner, nodding to the smoothie already waiting.

"Pineapple mango," she says as Rose sits down, "your favorite."

"Thanks, Mom." She takes a big drink, savoring the weird feeling the pineapple leaves on her tongue. "How're you?"

"I'm okay. Work's been getting busy again recently with the month's end rush." Mom swirls her straw around her coffee. "Did I tell you about this new thing our boss is trying to make us do?"

"No, what?"

"Apparently some young CEO in the area made it big on corporate social media about 'team building exercises,'" and Rose is already groaning in sympathy, "so he sent out this survey this past week about what activity we'd rather do."

"What were the options?"

"This group painting class thing, where we all paint the same picture—"

"Like in kindergarten?"

"Like in kindergarten," Mom agrees, "there's a bar-arcade place that's just opened up on the West Side that does private events, and then there's a good old-fashioned work dinner."

Rose makes a face. "That's it? No, like, crazy obstacle courses, or escape rooms, or anything?"

"We barely had the budget for the normal year-end stuff."

"So what did you vote for?"

"I ended up voting for the painting, actually—"

"What? Mom, that's so lame."

"Hey!" She jokingly flicks a napkin at Rose. "Lamer than the most awkward dinner you can imagine or sitting and drinking for a whole evening?"

"Isn't that what adults do? You sit and drink and talk?"

Mom sighs, shaking her head as they both laugh. "Yeah, well, I figured it might be better if we tried to do something that wasn't just sitting and drinking."

"I guess."

"Besides, I'm still missing something for the bathroom upstairs. Maybe I'll hang up whatever I manage to make there," she adds, winking at Rose.

It's supposed to be a joke at how bad at art she is—really, even Chris looked at her stick figures and struggled to find something nice to say, and Mom just laughed it off—but Rose's smile fades and she shuffles a little in the chair. She drinks more of her smoothie. Dad's words turn over and over in her head.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Mm?"

"Would you…" She fights the urge to reach for the ring. "Would you help me decorate my room?"

Mom's brow furrows. "At my house?"

"N-no, my…my room at the compound. It's stupid, never mind."

"It's not stupid, Rose," Mom says, picking up her coffee, "I'm just—I guess I'm just surprised. Most teens don't really want their parents anywhere near their rooms."

"Yeah, well, forget it."

A car drives by. Despite herself, she reaches for the ring anyway. Something warm pulses in her chest.

"It's just," she manages, "I don't really have anything in there. It's just the military stuff."

Mom's coffee cup hits the table with a thud. "What do you mean you don't have anything in there?"

"I mean, there's just a dresser, a desk, and a bed. And my little side table thing. They didn't really give me any—"

"How much time do you have?"

Rose blinks. "Huh?"

"How much time before you have to get back?" Mom's already getting up and putting the lid back on her coffee. "We're not that far from the big stores and I have my car."

"I, uh, I think I have a few hours, so—" she scrambles up too, reaching to grab Mom's arm— "wait, you're really okay with doing this?"

Mom pauses for a moment, then reaches out and covers Rose's hand with hers. "You're my daughter, Rosie, I'd love to help you decorate your room."

A lump appears in her throat and she swallows it down. "Thank you."

"Come on," Mom grins, "what are you thinking you want?"

"Uh, I was thinking maybe like a whiteboard? That way I could write down stuff that I might forget? Or like—a magnetic one so I could stick stuff to it?" She gets into Mom's car and they start driving. "Or a corkboard—I've seen a lot of people pin like, pictures and stuff to a corkboard on their walls."

"What if you get both? A corkboard to put pictures and cute stuff and then a whiteboard to write on?"

"I also want a lamp. The normal lights just make my head hurt. And they buzz, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about. It's like the world's most annoying crickets, isn't it?"

"And there's no, like, in between! It's either no light at all or—"

"Or my eyes are being scorched out, that's right."

They pull into the parking lot of the store and get out, still bouncing ideas back and forth. Mom grabs a cart and they head straight for the stationary section and they spend about five minutes talking about the different corkboards and whiteboards. Then Rose decides she wants magnets so she can stick stuff to the whiteboard, then Mom spots a cute set of push pins, and then another mom and daughter walk by with one of those fancy photo printers that print out pictures from your phone like Polaroids, and they just have to get Rose one of those.

As they pick out lamps and wall decor and sheets that actually have some color, she's struck by how normal this is. She's with her mom. They're shopping for stuff for her room. They're freaking out over the pillows that have little penguins on them. She's actually smiling and laughing and she's excited. She can't wait to get back and put all this stuff in her room.

She just…wishes Dad could be here too.

"I think I'd prefer the yellow lampshade, but it's up to you." Mom looks up from the shelf to notice she's gone quiet. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing," she says quickly, wiping surreptitiously at her face, "…just…I kinda wish Dad was here too."

Mom's fingers stutter on the box and for a moment, she thinks she's going to see those walls go up again, the ones that always go up when she tries to talk about Dad, but then Mom puts the box down and rubs at her wedding ring. She still wears it sometimes. Rose reaches for Dad's, under her shirt.

"I wish he was here too, Rosie," Mom says quietly, "he'd be so proud of you."

Rose swallows, and her eyes catch on a tiny monkey LED lamp further down the shelf. She picks it up. "I think he'd vote for this one, don't you?"

A hint of fond exasperation comes to Mom's face. "God, did I ever tell you what happened when he found out that you loved that little monkey you got when you were still a baby? He tried to buy everything monkey-themed he could find because he thought you might like it."

"Wait, really?"

"I had to get Chris to help me talk him out of buying an entire monkey crib for you."

Rose puts the monkey lamp in the cart. Mom smiles and they keep walking. They end up spending way more than she thought they'd be and sheepishly tries to put some stuff back, but Mom won't hear a word of it and bags everything up.

"Chris can help cover the cost if he's so worried about it," she declares as they pull back up to the meeting spot where the car is supposed to take Rose back to the compound, "anyway, all of this should have been done years ago."

"Thanks, Mom," Rose says, "I had fun."

"We should definitely do it again. I'll help you decorate your college dorm too."

Rose smiles and gets out of the car. It fades a bit when she sees Paul again, leaning against the side of the van with his arms crossed. She turns her back deliberately on him and goes to help Mom get all the bags out of the trunk.

"You're late," Paul says, like he has any right to sound like a smug, condescending asshole.

"By like five minutes. Open the trunk."

"What's all that?"

"Stuff. For my room."

"Well, I—hey!" Paul finally moves when Mom just opens the trunk and starts putting the bags inside.

"You must be the agent Rose told me about," Mom says, her voice saccharine as she dusts off her hands, "is that right, honey?"

"Yeah," she mumbles, "that's him."

"Paul," he says, "Ms. Winters."

"Mia." Mom holds out her hand and he takes it, Rose peering at them from under the brim of her hat. Her eyes widen when Mom yanks Paul closer to her, her smile fading as she hisses in his ear. "Call my daughter Eveline again and I'll break your nose, are we clear?"

Paul jerks in surprise, before turning his head slightly. "Stand down, it's fine, I can handle it."

"You can't afford to make a scene in such a public place," Mom says, her voice still perfectly even, "and Chris won't risk harming me or Rose. So you can start treating my daughter like a person or I can break your nose right now and Chris can clean up your mess."

Rose can't stop her snort as Paul sheepishly walks back to the front of the car and gets in. Mom watches him go before she turns around and says, loud enough for him to hear, "Make sure you send me pictures when you get it the way you want it, okay?"

"I will."

"And if you decide you want anything else, we'll get it next time."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Rosie." She glares once more in Paul's direction before she walks back to her car.

Rose doesn't stop smirking as Paul drives them back to the compound. He slinks off with his tail between his legs after helping her get all her stuff into her room. She can't cover up the camera—and let them know she knows about it—but she can play her music out loud as she decorates, hanging up the little plants they found and pinning a few photos to her new corkboard. It still strikes her how normal all of this is, dancing to her music and putting up all of her new things, finally collapsing onto her now-colorful blankets with a laugh.

She texts a few photos to Mom, who responds with gushing reviews and excited emojis, before she rolls onto her side to look at the floor.

"What do you think?"

The words only take a second to appear.

it's beautiful, sweetie

"You were right," she murmurs, "it was really nice to let Mom take care of me a bit."

i'm glad

"Oh! I forgot to show you the best part!" Rose jumps off the bed and goes over to the far wall, switching on the fairy lights she hung from the ceiling amidst a bunch of fake vines. "Now the camera will just think the glowing is from the lights!"

Golden sparkles swirl beneath the soft glow.

you're so smart

"I mean," she blusters, trying not to show how pleased she is, "I was just tired of lying down to talk to you all the time."

i see, still clever

"Thanks." After a moment, she reaches over and picks up the little monkey lamp and her stuffed monkey, safely hidden beneath her pillows. "Mom told me you wanted to buy a monkey crib for me."

it would go with the onesie

"You got me a monkey onesie?"

mom has pictures

"I'll have to ask her next time." She chews on her lip, running her fingers over the seams of the monkey's ear. "I wish you could've been there."

me too

"Mom threatened to break Paul's nose if he was rude to me again." The light swirls as Dad laughs and she laughs too. "I'd kick him in the nuts too."

that's my girl

***

4.

"Stupid fucking dickhead," she spits as she slams the door, throwing her backpack onto the chair so hard it scrapes across the floor. "Fucking asshole! I'll fucking rip his head off, the fucking bastard!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a tiny sparkle from the floorboards, and she stomps over to the lights, turning them on. Almost immediately, golden words swirl up.

what happened?

"Your buddy Chris fucking happened!" Rose throws herself onto the bed and punches the pillow. "He keeps treating me like I'm some—some fucking gun that only he knows how to fire and I'm fucking sick of it!"

It had been especially bad today, too. Chris apparently woke up and decided yeah, today's the day I'm gonna be a total fucking asshole for no goddamn reason. He started them out sparring, which he never does, he always has them warm up first because it's important not to strain yourself, except apparently not today when she was thrown against the fucking ground three times before she could even open her mouth long enough to say hi.

Or maybe ask what the hell crawled up his ass that morning.

And then he kept fucking looking at her like he was disappointed! Like it was her fault she wasn't expecting to be slammed up against the wall or pinned to the ground by a man fucking three times her size and then grunted at when she winced in pain because that fucking hurt, you asshole! And he kept on saying these stupid little comments that just made her angrier and angrier and then he had the gall to be like hey, you need to get a handle on your emotions like he wasn't pushing every single fucking button he knew she had!

You need to be sharper, he'd said like he had any right to try and be reasonable as he almost dislocated her fucking shoulder, emotions make you sloppy.

Yeah, well, he could try being sharper when he was being bullied for no fucking reason.

And when she'd finally screamed at him that she was done, that she didn't want to fucking do this anymore, he had the fucking audacity, the nerve to scoff and cross his arms and tell her that no, she wasn't done, she was only done when he said she was done. And yeah, she hadn't really made the decision to rush at him after that, her body did that on its own, but he literally just tossed her aside like a fucking doll and then said she wasn't leaving until she could do the fucking stupid thing he wanted her to.

She tried. She really fucking did.

But she couldn't do it.

And Chris kept refusing to help, saying he'd been training her for so long already, that he'd wash her out if she were any other recruit—to which she'd screamed that she wasn't, so why the fuck was he being like this? And he didn't fucking answer! He just told her to try it again and he kept making her angrier and angrier and she could tell Chris was getting angry too which just made hers worse because what fucking right did he have to be mad at her? What the fuck did she do to him?

It ended really badly. She'd gotten so mad she'd thrown herself at him again, not caring about proper technique or what was smart or anything, she just went for him. He grappled her, obviously, and that was supposed to be their tap-out, fight's-over thing, but she hadn't stopped. She'd scratched him and punched him and kicked him even when he growled at her to yield, and when that didn't work, she'd bit him.

Chris fucking wrenched her off of him and threw her across the room and she heard three guns click.

They'd glared at each other, Chris holding his arm like it was a fucking biohazard, and then he'd stalked off without a word while agents forcibly shoved her back to her room.

She's panting by the time she finishes, glaring a hole in the wall right below where the words normally appear. Her hands still tingle from where she'd hit the walls and the pillows. She looks up when she sees the familiar swirl.

you shouldn't have bitten him

The anger surges up her arms and she clenches her fists. "That's all you have to say? No 'I'm sorry he was such a dick, Rose?' 'You didn't deserve that?' You're fucking defending him?"

i didn't say that

"I just told you that your friend, the person you told to watch over me and keep me safe was fucking bullying me for no goddamn reason and the only thing you can say is that I shouldn't have defended myself?" Betrayal steeps vehemence into her words. Her nails bite into her palms. "I'm fucking glad I bit him!"

he's trying to help

"How in the fuck is he trying to help," she cries, "by being as bad as the bullies in school? By treating me like a freak that needs to be kept muzzled and on a leash?"

you did bite him

She picks up one of the pillows and hurls it at the wall. It hits with a pathetic thwap and falls limply to the floor. It only makes her angrier when she sees the words calm down when the lights stop shaking.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! You're supposed to be on my side!"

i am

She barks out a humorless laugh and picks up the pillow, throwing it back on the bed. "You're not on my side, you're on his. I don't need you lecturing me too. Just leave me alone."

More golden words swirl as she turns away, throwing herself onto the bed and curling up tightly around her stuffed monkey. She chokes around the lump in her throat and wills herself not to cry. She'd almost cried in front of Chris today already, she won't give either of them the satisfaction of seeing her cry now. She won't, she won't, she won't! It's not fucking fair that Chris did that. It's not fucking fair that he gets to act however the fuck he wants and then she's the only one punished for it. He gets to go all over the fucking world and only see her when it's convenient to him and he gets to be an asshole about it.

Dad's not even alive.

A sob chokes out before she can stop it, and then it's too late. She's blubbering like she's a stupid fucking baby again and she can hear the echoes of their voices in her ears. All alone, poor freak Rose, crying like a baby who doesn't get her way. She's so weird, she's so stupid, she can't do it. She's useless, she's not strong enough. Just go away. No one wants you here. No one wants you. No matter how hard she presses her hands to her ears, they won't fucking shut up!

Maybe she should've fucking kept the purifying crystal. Maybe she should've left with no powers and had a normal fucking life. Maybe she should've just left her dad to—

As soon as the thought threatens to cross her mind, she recoils from it. Guilt and anger war in her gut as she nearly grows sick. How could she fucking think that? After all he'd done to save her, protect her, how could she think about something like that, even if it was in a fit of rage?

A strangled noise escapes her throat and the bruises and injuries from her humiliating 'sparring session' abruptly make themselves known. Her body screams in pain; her shoulders ache, the bruise on her ribs throbs, and her jaw feels like it's about to explode. She has the hysterical impulse to bite herself and she wonders if it would hurt more than everything else. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses a glow coming from the floorboards now and she curls up tighter, burying her face in the monkey's tummy. Fuck it, she's been called overly emotional and childish enough times already, she may as well throw her tantrum properly.

It's like falling into the Megamycete again; she has no idea how long she lies there, wallowing in her own emotional turmoil. Flashes of the bullies, of Chris's stupid fucking face, of watching herself get tossed around and left behind…even stranger things like massive castles filled with screams and horror, creepy old houses that just feel like tombs, deep water and clanking metal, all filled with whispers of freak, dangerous, stupid child, not good enough. Everything is too loud and too quiet and she just wants it to be over.

When she finally manages to rouse herself from whatever malaise she'd fallen into, the sun has long set. Her clock shows that it's close to 10—that would explain why her stomach is trying to dig a hole in her intestines. The anger fled unknown hours ago, leaving her weary and wrung out. In its absence, she no longer feels like the bioweapon that she's supposed to be, only the scared and lonely child. It's cold. She's hungry.

There's still a soft golden glow coming from over the side of the bed.

Her lip wobbles. She doesn't want to face the consequences of yelling at her dad and throwing a pillow at him, but she can't stop the blooming warmth that he didn't leave. She crawls to the edge of the bed and peeks over.

i'm sorry Rose

She sniffles and rubs her cheek on the sheets. "'M sorry too."

you were right, i should've been on your side

"You're always on my side," she mumbles, "I know you are."

still

She sniffles again and tucks the monkey under her chin. "Why was Chris so mean today? Did I do something wrong?"

i don't think so, sometimes he's just like that

"Why?" She's ignoring how much she sounds like a baby, thank you. "It's not fair."

no it's not sweetie

Rose closes her eyes, basking in the soft glow of her dad's comfort. "Was he ever mean to you when you were training?"

yeah

"What did you do?"

broke his nose once

It startles a laugh out of her. "You what? Wait, what happened?"

he was being an asshole, so i punched him

She giggles again, both at the image of Chris's surprised face with a broken nose and at the fact that her dad got so angry with Chris that he punched him hard enough. A few more golden sparkles surround the words before they change again.

you shouldn't try it though

"Aw," she complains, mostly for show, "but you did it."

do as i say not as i do

She's quiet. After a moment, she lets her arm hang down to touch the words again. They glow gently. "I don't like fighting with you."

me neither

"I'm sorry. I was being a brat."

The words swirl up quicker than she's ever seen.

you were upset at something unfair, not a being a brat

She sniffles again, reaching over to grab a hanky and blow her nose with a sharp honk. She throws it over to the laundry basket and lies back down. The words have changed.

if you need to hear it, i forgive you

"I forgive you too."

rest

She nestles up against the pillows. "Will you stay until I go to sleep?"

of course sweetie, i love you

***

5.

Mostly Rose doesn't dream. She'll close her eyes and open them again and it will be hours later and it's time to get up. Most of the time when she does dream, it's weird half-memories that aren't hers mixed with something she does actually remember. She has dreams of a house with a red chimney being taken apart by little robotic goats, or of a crocodile swimming through a swamp filled with dead crows, or of bugs crawling over test tubes and dirty flasks. Some of them make sense when she digs into the files she's not really supposed to have access to, some of them don't.

On rare, awful occasions, she has nightmares.

She's been curled up and unmoving for who knows how long, desperately trying to feign sleep. The mold in her keeps prickling like there's something else in the room, watching her, just waiting for a sign that she's awake to pounce. Her white-knuckled grip hasn't wavered either. She dares hardly breathe; even though her rational brain knows there's nothing there, there can't be anything there, her entire body is screaming. She can feel the milky sweat beginning to ooze from her palms.

Something creaks.

She goes stiff as a board.

A creak, a groan, a rumble as the air conditioning turns on and she forces herself to relax, cracking open one eye to see that yes, this is just her room, there's nothing to be afraid of here, she's fine.

Her eyes land on the switch to the fairy lights.

The small and whimpering part of her lunges for them, for the warm glow of the light, her dad's words, in lieu of running to her parents' bed to be comforted. The other part hisses that the second she moves, whatever's lurking in the dark will strike. The monkey wheezes as she tightens her grip, staring at the innocuous plastic box hanging against the wall.

With a sudden burst, she launches herself from the bed, slapping the button, and curling back up beneath the safety of the blankets.

Immediately, the soft warm light chases away the worst of the shadows and she can peek over her shoulder to assure herself that yes, nothing is there, she's safe in her room, everything's okay. Golden sparkles are already swirling, a quiet inquisitiveness filling that one empty part in her chest as she lies back down. He's rotated his words so she can read them easily.

what's the matter, sweetie?

"Nightmare," she whispers, more into her pillow than anything else.

i'm sorry

She curls up tighter, trying to pull the blankets up almost over her head. The sweat's almost ruined her monkey—she's going to have to wash it again—and she wipes her hands on the sheet. The absence of it hits the cold air and she shivers, hunching tighter in the covers and sniffling. A sudden and sharp ache sears through her chest and she shudders, harder this time, only the top of her nose peeking out over the comforter. She's so cold. Not in the way where she can pile more blankets on and it'll go away—she could put the whole world on top of her and she would still be cold. This horrible, achy, exhausting cold that seeps into her bones and makes her want to cry.

what can i do?

"You said in your—in your letter," she hiccups, "that you'd hold me when I had nightmares, and—and sing to me until I went back to sleep."

But the words on her wall are just words and words can't hold anybody.

She wants a fucking hug, goddamnit. No one touches her anymore, not unless they're running some stupid test, or sparring, or escorting her roughly down the hallway like some—some prisoner. The last time someone touched her and it wasn't that it was Mom, telling her she'd help decorate her room and that was so long ago, everyone else just—just—

"I want to go home," she sobs and it lands like a dead weight in the still room.

what do you mean?

"I want to go home, I want to go back to that house you showed—showed me when I was in there, where you—where your memories are and I can actually h-hear you and it's warm an'—an' safe, and you love me," she cries, not caring that it's the middle of the night and she's talking to a wall, "no one here loves me. No one loves me, the doctors think I'm some—some experiment that's run too—too long and the agents all think I'm a l-liability and Mom's not here because she gave me up and Chris h-hates me."

he doesn't hate you sweetie

"He does! He does, he does, I can feel it." She hugs her monkey tightly to her chest. "He h-hates me for being the reason you're not—you're not here anymore and he hates me for reminding him that you're dead and he hates me for—for being like this and—and—and—!"

shh…shh…shh…

But he's not here and she can't hear him shushing her and she's all alone in her cold, dark room and she wants to go home.

don't cry, Rosie, it's gonna be okay sweetie

"It's not. 'S not okay."

The wall doesn't move for a moment, then it swirls again.

scoot back, i'm going to try something

Frowning, she does, shuffling awkwardly back until she's on the far side of the bed. The golden light swirls around for another second, before it writes itself on one of the pillows.

hug me

"D—Michael?"

i'm right here sweetie, i love you so much

With trembling fingers, she reaches for the pillow, touching the words with a soft gasp as they glow warmly against her still-slick palms. A sob of disbelief leaves her throat and she bundles it to her chest, burying her face in it. A soft scratching and buzzing fills her ears as more words write themselves across the pillow, but she doesn't pull her face away to read them. Not when this is the closest thing to hugging her dad she's been since she was in the deepest stratum of the Megamycete, crying over his dying body. Not when she's still so cold and the words are so, so warm. She tucks her face into the crook of the pillow's embrace and she cries.

The words don't stop writing themselves over and over and if she focuses hard enough, it almost sounds like her dad is humming.

She falls into a light sleep, not willing to miss a moment of actually being so close to her dad, soothed by his presence. Soon, light has begun to break through the window, the auto timer on the lights long since activated to switch them off. The pillow is all gross from a mixture of drool, snot, and tears, and she sheepishly tries to wipe it away when a small glow comes from underneath.

it's okay

"It's kinda gross."

my privilege, i'm your dad

"Still."

ew, remember?

A watery smile. "Thanks."

i love you so much, i'm so proud of you

"I love you too," she mumbles back, curling her arms around the pillow. Another set of words writes itself and she leans back.

do you really think Chris hates you?

"I don't know. He…he looks at me like he can't sometimes. Or like he's waiting for me to…I don't know, turn crazy or bad or like he's waiting for me to turn into you, almost." She rubs her fingers over the pillowcase. "He used to be nicer."

have you spoken since?

She doesn't need to ask what he's talking about. "No. He's been out of town again. He's supposed to be back, um…"

She leans over to check her phone, eyes widening when she sees the date.

"Uh, today. Shit, I actually think we're supposed to have a training thing today."

Before more words can write themselves, there's a knock on her door. She freezes, phone still in her hand, pillow clutched close.

"Rose?" Fuck. "It's Chris. Can I come in?"

be brave, says the last flutter of words before her dad vanishes, i love you

"…yeah."

Chris opens the door. Rose tugs on her dad's jacket over her pajamas and clutches the pillow in her lap. She doesn't look at him. He moves around a little in the doorway before he shuts it with a click. After a moment, the bed dips and groans under his weight and she sneaks a glance at his arm. Her bite mark is still there.

"Surprised they let you walk around before that healed."

"You didn't even break the skin."

It's probably meant to come off in a way that means she doesn't have to worry about it, but it stings anyway. She turns away again.

A car drives by outside.

"I owe you an apology," Chris says finally, his voice low and gruff, "I shouldn't have been so harsh. I'm sorry."

She doesn't reply, but she shifts to face the window instead of the wall.

"There's been talk of getting you moved to another squad," he continues, and her stomach drops—is Chris leaving too?— "and I thought…if I could prove that you were good with us, that we had it all under control, then they'd drop it. Leave you alone."

At the rustle as he shifts, she glances over at him. His jaw works and his hand twitches on his knee.

"I thought…" He trails off, then scoffs at himself, shaking his head. "I don't know what I thought."

He turns to meet her gaze and her gut clenches at the obvious guilt and remorse she can see there. She swallows.

"You were mean." Her voice comes out a lot smaller than she'd hoped. She swallows and tries again. "I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you, Rose," he says in a rush, turning to face her, "please don't think that."

"So you're not trying to get rid of me?"

"Shit, Rose, no, I'm not trying to get rid of you. You're—I think Mia'd kill me if I tried, no, I'm just—" he takes a breath— "I'm just trying to keep you safe, okay?"

"Then you should've said something! I would've trained harder if I knew—we could've—I would've done something else, did I do something wrong?"

"No," he insists, shaking his head, "no, you didn't do anything wrong."

Relief begins to pool warily in her chest. Her grip on the pillow loosens and she scoots a little closer. "I'm sorry I bit you."

He shakes his head again. "It's fine. You, uh, you have good bite strength."

"Good bite strength?"

"Yeah. Your contact's really good." He gestures to the bite mark on his arm. "Got all of them in there too."

"Thanks," she says, laughing a little. Chris smiles and it's a bit easier to breathe. She gives herself a shake. "So, what's today? Weapons, sparring, how to punch boulders?"

"Actually, I, uh, thought we'd go get ice cream."

Rose pauses, looking up at him, blinking as if she'd heard wrong. "Ice cream?"

"Weather's gonna get cold soon, the good place around the corner's gonna close." He shrugs. "Been craving it."

"Yeah…yeah, ice cream sounds good."

"Great."

And before she can think too much of it, she throws herself at him and hugs him for all she's worth. She feels him stutter, not quite sure what to do, and then his arms slowly wrap around her, holding her just as tightly. And oh, she's on fire, Chris is big and warm and solid and he's holding her like she's something special and she's gonna fucking cry her eyes out if she stays here a moment longer and she's gonna die if she lets go. Chris lets out a noise of dismay when she sniffles and scoops her up, like she's a little kid again, holding her in his lap and now she's making a mess of his shoulder too.

She could swear she feels Dad smile.

***

+1.

"I'm telling you," Rose says as she lounges on her bed, "you're wrong about the cover. It's actually pretty good."

i like the classics

"Yeah, well, you're old and boring, so that makes sense."

:(

The sight of the old-fashioned emoticon frowny face makes her burst out laughing. "Oh my god, that's so lame. I don't think I've seen someone use that in years."

it's a classic!

"You gotta get with the times!"

totes dope fam

Rose winces at the immense amount of psychic damage those three words dealt, her neck protesting as she almost cringes it out of alignment. "No, D—Michael, just no."

lol

She tosses the pillow playfully at the wall again, laughing when another frowny face appears on both it and the wall. "Aww, okay, I'm sorry, here."

She picks it up and cuddles it and the frowny face turns to a smiley face. Lying back down, grin still on her face, she toys with his ring. It's gotten shinier from all the rubbing, except where she ties the cord around it so she can wear it as a necklace. She turns it this way and that, watching the sunlight glint off of it. As she does, she catches sight of the engraving on the inside.

Always and forever.

"Do you want me to tell Mom and Chris about you?"

The words swirl for a moment.

up to you

She pushes herself to sit up, propped on one elbow. The ring glistens as she slides it back onto her finger, turning it to and fro. "I don't know. It feels bad keeping something like this from them, but I want to be selfish about it too, you know? I kind of like having you all to myself."

it's not selfish

"And what if Chris thinks it's bad?" She twists the ring harder. "What if he tries to take you away from me?"

i won't let that happen

Her shoulders drop a little and she picks up the pillow again, cuddling into it. A few words write themselves across it just so she can feel their warmth and she rubs her cheek against it. "Don't you miss them?"

all the time

A melancholy that isn't hers hangs in her chest and she squeezes the pillow again. "Then should I? They miss you too, you know. I think they'd be happy to, you know, hear from you again."

The words fade and the wall glows again as he thinks. She lets him have his time, rubbing the ring back and forth, listening to the slight rattle it makes as it spins around her too-small finger. When she hears the familiar soft scratch again, she looks up.

they're happy now, i don't want to ruin that

"They're not happy," she can't help but say, "they still miss you."

content, then

"You wouldn't be ruining anything," she argues, "I thought—I thought I'd never get to see you again after I got out of there. The day I heard you again? That was the happiest moment of my life."

mine too sweetie, or my un-life i guess

The words glow brighter as her fingertips glow too. She gets up and lays her hand against the wall, smiling as their powers dance together. "I really think they'd be happy."

A pulse of warmth runs up her arm to her chest as the words shift once more.

when you think the time is right

"I'll tell you, I promise."

i'm so proud of you, Rose, i love you so much

"I love you too."

That time doesn't come on their terms, though, because that would be easy. No, instead it's when she and Chris are over at Mom's house for dinner and Chris asks a question out of nowhere that almost makes her spit all over the table.

"What?" Mom asks as Rose glares a hole in Chris's stupid forehead.

"I said," Chris says like an unrepentant asshole, "who's Michael?"

"Michael?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rose mutters, staring down at her lap.

"I was coming to get you for training last week and you were talking to someone called Michael." Chris takes a bite of steak and talks with his mouth full, like an asshole. "So who is he?"

Mom elbows her, winking. "Someone you like?"

"What? Ew, gross, no!"

Chris and Mom just laugh and Mom elbows her again. "Don't worry, I was your age once too. That's how I reacted when my mom asked me about my crush."

"Michael isn't my crush!"

"Boyfriend, then?"

"No, he's not my—" she covers her face and sighs. "He's not my boyfriend, he's not my crush, he's not someone from school, happy?"

"So who is he?"

Well, fuck it, no time like the present. She pushes back from the table, muttering about using the bathroom. They wait until she's halfway up the stairs to start talking again, their voices low in that way where she knows they're still talking about her, but she pays them no mind as she goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. She braces her hands on either side of the sink and takes a deep breath.

"I'm guessing you heard all that."

The words swirl up right below the mirror.

yeah

"I mean, it's not like we'll get a better opportunity."

probably not

"Are you ready?"

are you?

She rubs at the chip in the linoleum and turns on the cold water, just to make sure there's no milky sweat on her hands. "I'm nervous."

me too

"No matter what happens," she says firmly, "no matter what they do or say, I'm here for you, okay? I've got your back. I love you."

i'm so proud of you, sweetie, i love you too

The words glow cheerfully against the weird tile pattern and she reaches out to touch them. They share a moment before the words fade and she takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders in the mirror and nodding to herself. "Right. Let's do this."

She marches back downstairs and Mom and Chris do a horrible job of pretending not to be nosy and expectant. She sits back down and folds her hands in her lap.

"I'll tell you who Michael is," she begins, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone else."

"I promise, honey," Mom says, miming zipping her lips shut.

"Chris, you promise too."

Chris looks at her for a moment like he's going to disagree, then he winces as Mom kicks him under the table. "I promise too."

"Good." She takes another breath and reaches for the ring around her neck. The second she brings it out from under her shirt, Chris's silverware clatters against the plate and Mom inhales sharply.

"Rose," she says shakily, "where did you get that?"

"Before I said yes to joining you," Rose says, "I met K outside the lab. He told me there might be a way to get rid of my powers for good."

Chris frowns. "K never said anything like that to me, what do you—"

"I'm getting there. He took me to the lab where there was a piece of the Megamycete, and said that—"

"He what?"

"Will you both just listen to me?" The two of them quiet down. "Thank you. So, like I was saying, he took me to see the piece of it and said that there was a purifying crystal that Miranda discovered that could take the mold out of someone. All I had to do was look through the Megamycete's index of consciousness to see if I could find it."

"That's incredibly dangerous, Rose," Mom says quietly, and Chris looks like he's trying to strangle his fork. "Please tell me you didn't—"

"I wanted them gone," she interrupts, looking at her Mom, "they were—I was just a freak with no friends. Someone offered me the chance to be normal, are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing if you were a teenager?"

Mom looks at her for a long moment, but she doesn't disagree. Rose squeezes the ring and keeps going.

"It wasn't that easy, obviously. It was…really hard. And really scary. I had to fight my way through these, like, twisted versions of the places in Miranda's village, like that big castle and the creepy doll house, and there were all these versions of me that kept getting killed and tortured, I fought a version of Eveline too—"

"Rose," Chris tries to say but she doesn't let him.

"—but I had help," she continues. "There was something helping me. It helped me figure out where to go, what to do, gave me a gun and taught me how to use it. There were these glowing words that would appear when I needed them most and it…it was like having a guardian angel."

"Michael," Chris says, and she nods.

"Yeah, I called him Michael. He—he kept trying to get me to leave, said that it wasn't safe, but I wanted to find the crystal and so he helped me. And then we found out K wasn't actually K and it was all a trap set by Miranda—"

"It was what?"

Chris is already getting up. "Is she still in there? Do we need to—"

"Sit down, Chris, it's fine, we beat her. She's dead now, like, really, actually dead. She crystalized and turned to dust, I saw it."

His face still looks like he ate a lemon, but Chris sits slowly back down. He exchanges a worried look with Mom and she puts her hand on Rose's shoulder. "You said 'we?'"

"Me and Michael." She looks down at the ring and turns it over in her hand. "Until I found out who he really was."

Mom gasps, a small and shuddery thing. She holds her hand over her mouth and stares at Rose. "Ethan."

Chris makes a noise too as Rose nods. "Yeah. It was him the whole time. He…he protected me. From Miranda, from Eveline, from everything."

"He loved you so much, honey," Mom whispers, her eyes growing wet, "he never stopped loving you."

"He showed me our house in Romania," and to her horror, she can feel her voice growing thick too, "with all his memories. I heard his voice, Mom, he—he wrote me a letter, did you know?"

"Yes," Mom says, trying not to sob, clutching her shoulder, "yeah, honey, I know. He cried so much while he was writing it, he wanted you to get old enough to read it with him, oh, Rose…"

She swipes a hand under her nose and turns to Chris, who's doing that big, tough, I'm-too-manly-for-my-emotions-right-now thing and reaches for him too. After a moment, his hand turns and covers hers. He's trembling. "He taught me how to fight, Chris. We—we fought together. He shot the monsters in the face with a shotgun and gave me his power so I could kill Miranda, once and for all."

Chris swallows heavily. "Your dad was…he was one of the best men I've ever known, Rosie. He would be so proud of you." He sniffs. "You said he shot them in the face with a shotgun?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ethan, alright." Mom laughs and it sort of sounds like a sob but she and Chris are smiling now, so it's okay. Chris looks back at her and nods a few times. "So you were talking to him, then?"

"Yeah. When you walked by on Tuesday, I think it was…yeah, we were arguing about whether the original Blade Runner was better than 2049." She wrinkles her nose. "He said the original was better but I like the remake."

Chris frowns. "What do you mean, he said—"

The words scrawl over Mom's dining table, illuminating their faces.

i like the classics, that's all

Rose would laugh at the way Chris almost falls out of his chair if his hand and Mom's weren't trembling. She looks at Mom, who stares at the glowing words, and at Chris, who looks like he's about to be sick.

Mom breaks the silence first. "…Ethan?"

The words move, now right next to her forgotten plate.

hi honey

"You're—you're—"

bad at staying dead?

Mom's breath leaves her like she's been punched in the gut. "Oh, Ethan, I—I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"

breathe, it's okay

She squeezes Mom's hand as she takes a few shaky breaths. "What—how is this possible?"

rose

"We're both part of the mold," Rose says when Mom looks to her, "he's…he's using my part right now, we're sort of sharing it."

told her i'm not a scientist, figured you'd get it :)

"No one uses those anymore," Mom mumbles and Rose whispers a quiet told you so! as the smiley turns to a frowny for a moment, before the words change again.

i know it's been hard, i'll always love you

"Oh, Ethan," Mom whispers, reaching out to touch the words. She gasps as a flicker of warmth pulses through them and Rose squeezes her hand again. "I miss you."

i miss you too

Another glow flickers up next to Chris, who startles and stares down at the words in shock.

you too

"E-Ethan, I—" he cuts himself off as the words swirl again.

thank you for taking care of my daughter

Chris swallows heavily. "She's incredible, Ethan. You should be proud of her."

always am

"I'm sorry," Chris whispers, and something in Rose's gut clenches at how close to tears he looks too, "if I'd been faster, we could've gotten you out of there, we could've…"

it's okay, Chris, we're all okay

"You're dead."

i died in 2017, doing pretty well considering

"He is really bad at staying dead," Rose adds, "Miranda said so too. You should've seen her, she was so mad at us."

Chris looks like he's having a hard time deciding whether he wants to laugh or cry. The sparkles swirl again.

she's a fighter, she gets that from you too

His free hand jerks and Rose squeezes the one in hers. "You can touch, Chris, he won't bite. That's my thing."

it won't hurt, promise

Chris takes a deep breath and slowly touches the words. His breath leaves him in a rush as they glow warmly under his fingers. Rose smiles as she feels the mold connect all of them there, in that moment, through her and Ethan. Some part of her clicks into place. As if he can feel it too, which he probably can, another set of words appears in front of her.

we're so proud of you, Rosie

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles as she feels heat rush to her cheeks, "shut up."

no :)

Mom laughs. "We finally have all three of us together again and you want us to not tell you how proud we are of you?"

"They've got a point, Rosie."

"I'll break your nose!"

"No, no," Mom says as Chris squawks, even though she's still smiling, "no breaking Chris's nose."

even if he deserves it

"Hey!"

As they all laugh together, Ethan's words still glowing in the warm, quiet house, Rose sits back in her chair and twists her dad's ring around her finger. Sure, being a mold bioweapon teenager was weird, but if this is the family she gets to have because of it, it can't be all bad.

[otmaaromanovas]

Romanov myths part two - did sailor nanny Derevenko betray the family?

Several members of the imperial entourage have been villainised over the decades, none more than Andrei Eremevich Derevenko, whom Anna Vyrubova claimed in her memoir to have betrayed the family. Many historians in the 20th century took this as fact, but more evidence has shown that it is highly likely that Derevenko did not betray the family or Alexei, and fell victim to one of the many lies in Anna Vyrubova's book. Some popular history books go as far as calling him 'abusive' - but let's look at the real facts.

Andrei Eremevich Derevenko was born in 1878, in Volyn, Zhytomr, in the Ukraine. He was a member of the baltic fleet, originally a sailor before being employed by the Imperial Family. In May 1906 he was appointed as the Dyadka, meaning 'uncle', to Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich. Derevenko was a sailor nanny, his primary role was to look after Alexei, and to ensure that the haemophilliac did not do himself an injury.

Derevenko found himself in more favour with the family in 1907, when his actions during a collision of the yacht Standart with a large rock were seen as admirable. His experience as a sailor came in incredibly handy; he knew that the boiler rooms of the ship were most likely to sink first, so grabbed the tiny Heir and ran to the opposite side of the ship, ensuring the Tsarevich's maximum safety.

In 1910, he was paid 120 rubles a year annually. By 1913, this had increased to 360 a year. Derevenko was joined by another sailor nanny, Klimenty Grigorievich Nagorny, in 1913 to help protect the heir as he grew into a rambunctious boy. The Tsarevich especially enjoyed playing with Derevenko's sons, Sergei, Alexei, and possibly a third, Alexander. The Tsarina were the children's godmother, and in turn the Tsar and Tsarina paid yearly expenses for the boy's education, and covered the cost of a surgery one of them underwent. Derevenko kept a daily diary, where he mostly recorded the duties he performed for Alexei, and what they both got up to during the day.

Now we come on to the origin of the myth. In her memoir, Anna Vyrbova claimed that after the February Revolution, she discovered:

"Lying sprawled in a chair was the sailor Derevenko, for many years the personal attendant of the Tsarevitch, and on whom the family had bestowed every kindness, every material benefit. Bitten by the mania of revolution, this man was now displaying his gratitude for all their favors. Insolently he bawled at the boy whom he had formerly loved and cherished, to bring him this or that, to perform any menial service his mean lackey's brain could think of. Dazed and apparently only half conscious of what he was being forced to do, the child moved about trying to obey. It was too much to bear."

Anna Vyrubova was arrested in March 1917, and did not spend the following months with the family at the Alexander Palace. She claims that this event happened on 20 March 1917. In contrast, family photo albums show that Derevenko was still a part of the retinue until the day of departure to Tobolsk, and was actually promoted in July 1917 by the Tsar to the role of Alexei's official valet.

Historian Charlotte Zeepvat proposes another explanation:

One of the most enigmatic figures, and the most intimately involved with Alexei, was the sailor Derevenko. Anna Virubova claimed to have seen Derevenko bullying Alexei, shouting orders at a boy too bemused to fight back. If this is true it would have been a shattering experience, but its truth is not so clear cut as it may seem. According to Anna, it happened on 20 March, two days before her own arrest. After a display like that the sailor would surely have left or been made to go, but he was still at the palace months later. Shortly before the move to Tobolsk in August he submitted an invoice for new clothes and shoes for Alexei to Colonel Kobilinski, the commandant of the palace garrison. He was asking a huge amount, so payment was withheld: when the sailor complained to the Tsaritsa and she intervened on his behalf, Kobilinski showed her the invoice. She took the Colonel's part. Derevenko was refused permission to accompany the family to Tobolsk, but months after their departure, he was still pleading to be allowed to join them. Failing that, he asked for the return of a trunk, which he said had gone to Tobolsk in error. It was found and opened, and inside were the new clothes and shoes, and an icon given to Alexei by his great-uncle, Grand Prince Sergei Alexandrovich. Was Derevenko stealing? Looking after the boy's interests in his own peculiar way? No one will ever know.

Several letters sent by Derevenko have survived. In the letters, he explains that the commissioners at the Alexander Palace and Tobolsk had informed him that there was 'no space' to take him on the trip, and that he was awaiting summons to Tobolsk, should he be required. Interestingly, these letters detail that the other sailor nanny, Nagorny, stayed in contact with Derevenko, and he also reveals that he was receiving multiple letters from the family and retinue from Tobolsk.

Historian George Hawkins, who has translated all of Alexei's correspondence and diaries from 1905-1918, found an interesting account by Comissar Pankratov. In this account, he explains that Colonel Kobylinski was confronted by Alexandra Feodorovna when Derevenko was not on the list, though was embarrassed when she discovered that he had requested a disproportionately high invoice to the Provisional Government for his duties. Pakratov added that Derevenko wrote to him repeatedly asking "when would he be called to Tobolsk to continue his official duties with the “heir”."

George Hawkins summarises: "Going by this account, it would seem he didn't [betray the Imperial Family]. Ania Vyrubova is the ultimate source for his 'betrayal' where she wrote that he started ordering Alexei about. I think something like that may well have happened, as it is also reported by Sokolov in his investigation into the fate of the Romanovs, but it would seem he still stayed with the family until their departure to Tobolsk - trying to get extra money out of the provisional government with his exaggerated bill, and kept trying to get to Tobolsk for some time."

The exact fate of Derevenko is unknown. Some sources suggest that he joined the White Army and died in 1921, either from being wounded/killed in action or succumbing to an illness. The early 1920s were years of intense turmoil and civil war in Russia, so it is not unusual that his documents drop off the record.

Though we can conclude that Derevenko did not betray the family in that he was 'abusive' to Alexei, he was not exactly popular with the suite. Pierre Gilliard recalled in his memoirs 'Thirteen Years at the Russian Court' that Derevenko preferred peasants to:

"[drop to their] knees before Alexis Nicolaïevitch to offer him what they had brought. I noticed that the boy was embarrassed and blushed violently, and when we were alone I asked him whether he liked seeing people on their knees before him. "Oh no, but Derevenko says it must be so !".

Gilliard also believes that the sailor nannies stifled Alexei's progress too much, and did not allow him to test the boundaries of his disease in order to become more self-disciplined.

Sources:

Memories of the Russian Court - Anna Vyrubova

Romanov Autumn - Charlotte Zeepvat

Russian Imperial Family: Romanovs in Their Own Words - Helen Azar and George Hawkins

Expenses of Alexey - Alexander Palace Org

Alexei - Russia's Last Tsesarevich: Letters, diaries and writings Part One: 1904 – 1915 - George Hawkins

Alexei - Russia's Last Tsesarevich: Letters, diaries and writings Part Two: 1916-1918 - George Hawkins

Photos:

Public domain, flickr - LastRomanovs

[aromanticannibal]

Basil is very mentally ill (SPOILERS)

I just came to this realization in the tags of another post but how deeply fucked up mentally must little twelve year old Basil must have been for his first idea to cover up Mari's death to be a suicide.

Mari has a knee injury that stops her from playing softball - so it must be a pretty bad knee injury. And you know what knee injuries do to you? They make you fucking fall. What are the odds of Mari accidentally falling off the stairs and dying from it after tripping because of her injury (and she was probably tired because of her training for the recital on top of that)? Pretty high me thinks. Even without the knee injury, these are some tall stairs man. Maybe I'm just clumsy but I know I'd fall from that.

So what happened is that Basil saw his best friend made his sister fall from the stairs and she died from it. And his first thought was to... Stage it as a suicide. And not any type of suicide, stage it as Mari having hanged herself. @a-rock-nothing-else in who's tags I screamed already pointed out that it's really weird for a twelve year old boy at a time where Internet isn't that easily accessible to know how to tie a noose.

So. Basil is undeniably fucked in the head from a stupidly young age, which makes sense given his parents are canonically "too busy" to take care of him, and he lives with his grandma + he seemingly didn't have any friends before Aubrey befriended him. So the child is probably somewhat depressed in the first place, and may have been suicidal in the past, explaining his knowledge of how to tie a noose (this is from @/a-rock-nothing-else's post).

But on top of that, even when he's seemingly really happy with his friends, his immediate reaction to Mari dying isn't to either freeze up like Sunny or call for help, it's to frame the "murder" and even then, to frame it as a fucked up suicide that's probably hard to put in place (need to know how to make a noose, need to bring the dead weight of a 16 years old girl down the stairs and then up a rope, all that alone because Sunny isn't responsive) instead of a simple "She fell down the stairs!". Even giving most of the truth would probably have been simpler ("Sunny and Mari were arguing and Mari was tired and tripped and fell down the stairs!").

I have a theory/headcanon : Basil probably was traumatized by something in the past (his parents' absence, his lack of friends or potential bullying, even just his depression) and got the good ol' "You're so mature for your age!" symptom. In this state of mind, he felt he had to help Sunny, because Sunny is helpless and doesn't know what to do, and he's his best friend, so Basil has to do something. He's the only one who can do something. (He doesn't think of calling for help.) Then, his first thought is to stage a suicide, perhaps because he's seeing things through his own eyes too much : when you're suicidal, you might view committing suicide as an escape from everything (good) and think that the people around you will forget everything about it in a few days, maybe (very good). Basil doesn't think in terms of "this is going to break everyone's hearts and might traumatize many of my friends" first because when you're twelve you don't think like that, and second because he's seeing himself in Mari supposed suicide.

Of course, he realizes after how terrible of an idea this is, but well. He can't do anything now, and he knows he did something wrong.

I suppose after all this, when the adrenaline went back down, he realizes that Mari didn't kill herself or die out of nowhere, someone pushed her. And when you're a kid you probably struggle to see shades of grey a bit, so he can't possibly believe his best friend is the one who pushed Mari down the stairs and killed her, no - it was something behind him.

Anyway. I'm not blaming Basil for anything, just trying to understand why his brain works so fucking weird and projecting a bit. I also might have missed some canon points but heh. These are just random thoughts, this is the reason why I labeled this as a theory/headcanon.

[compoundvee]

tell me more about avas background pls !

yayyy! okay, okay, okay, i'm so excited! sorry this is literally a whole wikipedia article on her. i just love her so much!

CHILDHOOD.

Ava was made in a lab using Homelander's DNA and the DNA of an unnamed female superhero. Many speculate it's Queen Maeve due to their similar red hair but this has been denied by Vought and Ava's creator, Dr. Vogelbaum. Vogelbaum described Ava as his "retry" when it came to Homelander, being much gentler and less abrasive with her training so her brain could develop properly unlike her fathers. During the seven years, Ava was kept in the lab, her father would visit her twice every year. For Christmas and for her birthday. She would describe these days as her "happy days" due to them being the only time she would get to see him in person and not on her TV screen.

She was revealed to the public at seven years old, being introduced on her father's hip as he floated down during a press conference. Many believe that Ava was only brought into the public eye so suddenly to keep Homelander in the court of public favor due to him having recently committed a war crime most likely. Now viewed as a loving father, Ava would quickly become "America's Daughter" being seen with her father everywhere and becoming a child star overnight.

Ava became the face for child supes everywhere and while being able to keep a professional demeanor on camera even at such a young age, Ava deeply struggled with emotional regulation and often had outbursts in her dressing rooms that would result in injury or death of her manager at the time.

Ava would go through several managers by the time she was fourteen.

Despite her outbursts, Ava would develop a close-knit relationship with Queen Maeve, viewing the woman as the mother she never had. Ava learned how to control her emotions and her powers with the help of Maeve as her father would just get frustrated with her, resulting in the pair fighting.

THE SEVEN.

Ava would be the youngest member to join The Seven at just eighteen, officially joining alongside Stormfront as a replacement for Translucent. Ava had already been doing missions with The Seven since she was sixteen, as her connection to Homelander assured her an automatic spot in the group. Her addition to The Seven sparked many debates on nepotism in the supe industry, embroiling her in her first controversy when she claimed to "not be a nepo baby," and that she "worked just as hard as any other supe to get this position," concluding with "if those supes worked harder, they could've gotten the position too."

After becoming an official member of The Seven, her introduction ceremony being one of the most viewed specials of that year, Ava and her father's relationship would only become more tumultuous. Homelander often accosting, berating, and bullying Ava for being "weak" and "needing thicker skin" when it came to missions as her goal was to help people while his was to look good for the public. This turned every mission into a warzone, the pair often breaking into fights that would result in massive property damage.

After her father got into a relationship with Stormfront, Ava would only become more vitriolic towards the man as her and Stormfront notoriously didn't like each other, disagreeing on basic moral standpoints such as not killing innocent civilians. This would prompt Ava to team up with A-Train to expose Stormfront and get her kicked from The Seven. During this time, Ava would be attempted to be recruited by Starlight to take down Vought. Despite nearly being convinced, Ava declines to help her as Vought is the only family she's ever known.

Still, Ava would end up helping Starlight and The Boys when she and Queen Maeve would join them in taking Stormfront down. Though Stormfront would flee from the fight, Ava would follow her despite Maeve's warnings to let her go. Ava would fly after Stormfront, finding her in the woods with Becca, Butcher, and Ryan. It is unclear exactly what happened but this fight would result in Stormfront and Becca succumbing to their injuries.

After this, Ava and Homelander's relationship almost seems to mend as the rejection of Ryan brings Homelander closer to Ava, recognizing her as his child for the first time since she was a child and even hugging her.

THE INCIDENT ON 32ND STREET.

THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED BY VOUGHT INTERNATIONAL.

GOD U

After the tragic accident on 32nd Street, Ava announced to the public she would be attending God U in order to better understand and control her powers. This decision was not made by her but by Vought in order to clean up her image.

While attending Vought, Ava would study crimefighting where she would be introduced to Andre Anderson, Jordan Li, Cate Dunlap, and Luke Riordan. These would be the first-ever friends she'd make in her entire life. During this time, she would begin romantically seeing Jordan though that didn't last long due to their conflicting personalities and habit of always arguing. The pair still remain friends.

During her sophomore year at God U, she'd meet Marie Moreau and the pair would quickly become close. Upon meeting Marie, Ava finally felt like she had met a real hero and was in complete awe of her even if they argued occasionally. Marie would quickly become Ava's best friend, replacing Cate as they would begin to grow distant and cold towards each other.

During their investigation into God U, Ava begins romantically seeing Andre Anderson. Ava would find herself becoming very dedicated to him very quickly, nearly killing Sam Rioran when he attacked Andre.

Upon learning of the supe virus, Ava would take Marie's side on the matter, turning against Cate and telling her that she's reminding her of her father. A fight would break out between the two, resulting in Cate knocking Ava out and leaving to start the riot against innocent non-Supes at God U.

Ava would help Marie, Jordan, and Andre during this riot trying to talk sense into Cate but leading nowhere. The riot only ends when Homelander swoops in, accusing Ava and her friends of "betraying their own kind" and shooting Marie with his heat vision, knocking her out. This engages Ava enough to fight her father, nearly overpowering him but, despite her best efforts, losing and being knocked out by him.

INCARCERATION.

Ava is now considered a disgrace to Vought, being falsely labeled a "Supe-Terrorist" and is locked up with Marie, Jordan, Andre, and Emma in supe prison.

Her father has gone on multiple press tours, denouncing her and pinning crimes he committed on her.

[immediatebreakfast]

Sometimes I wonder if despite being such a nice book Dracula is destined to have horrible adaptations that don't care about the original material, while the few good ones remain hidden for avid readers to see.

Yeah the Drcl Midnight Children manga is still shit, and it twisted all of the characters so beyond that the only thing they share is name. Warnings for sensitive content regarding sexualization with Lucy because I do warn you it gets really gross.

Shinichi Sakamoto literally had the easiest job in the world if he wanted to adapt Dracula into manga since he already has a gothic art style that could have been the perfect ring for the novel. We have already seen in the Manga Classics adaptation that you only need to draw what is happening in the novel, that's it.

Just grab your ink pen, and let Stoker's writing do the heavy lifting while you go crazy drawing all of the dresses, and the bats.

But nooooo! Everyone thinks they have the Big Brain™ to "subvert" Dracula while doing what everyone else has been doing but worse every time. The same tropes, the same complexes, the same beats, even making Dracula the protagonist. All of it feels the same, and Midnight Children does this too BUT WORSE.

It's infuriating to see Mina and Lucy portrayed like this. Also I only mention Mina and Lucy because these girls are the only characters who got any "dept" in this story, everyone else is a downright cardboat cutout, or worse a stereotype (Guess who is this one). Again, these modern writers end up being more sexist than century old irish writer with all of these "subversions" somehow.

We start with Mina Murray, a peasant girl who managed to get into Whitby's only boys academy which makes her a pariah among her peers, and subject of bullying for being first a girl, and second poor. This Mina is... pitiful.

She is not the Mina Harker/Murray Train Fiend, lady journalist, and leader of the group. This girl is only Mina in name, and in typewriter use because this is just a poor teen girl desperately trying to survive in the middle of a hellish school while surrounded by bullies. Drcl Mina is intelligent, but only in information, she tries to document just like Mina Harker, and the narrative conveniently spits on her efforts by having Dracula somehow tamper her precious typewriter.

Even with all of drcl Mina's wits I don't feel the same resolution, and admiration that I felt for Mina Harker in the novel. The manga is only presenting a poor girl named Mina scraping at every small bit of information she can find to somehow explain all of the supernatural shit she is seeing, and the sudden sickness and death of her only friend. I don't want to cheer for this Mina, I want her to grab her bag, and get the hell out of that school and out of Whitby even if it means abandoning Lucy because the conflict feels pointless. It feels like something that she can't win, or fully understand because SHE IS A CHILD.

A child that is trying so hard to be voice of the group while no one listens to her. All of Mina's qualities, and intelligence are not there because the story downright erased the epistolary format that gave her so much charm and character to make way for shock value scenes that only paint Drcl Mina as a pitiful fool going in circles for trying to win against Dracula.

We all know that Jonathan is Mina's other half, the only person who defends her, and loves more than god itself through the whole narrative. However, having Jonathan with Mina in Midnight Children could mean that Mina would have some sort of supporter, and that doesn't make room for tragedy™ so no Jonathan for Mina!

Now, talking about Lucy (Luke). How the fuck Sakamoto decided to make this Lucy a trans girl, then immediatly sexualize her in the most gross way possible. It's a new layer of grossness because in this adaptation is very textual that Lucy is trapped inside Luke, and she has to pretend to be a boy in front of everyone else except when she is alone with Mina.

It could have been a sweet, but rather tragic story about Lucy trying to overcome her own internal battle with her gender along with her trying to make sense of her upcoming tragedy masked as a chronic illness.

But no, this Lucy is passive, midly cruel, and reduced to a puppet device for gross sexual scenes that borderlines on transphobic voyeurism. Remember that Midnight Children Lucy is a TEEN.

She never lifts a finger to make the suitors stop their bullying towards Mina despite her calling her "my only friend." She never tells Mina of any pranks, nor consoles her in her lowest moments. This Lucy is every adaptation Lucy that paints her as the whore to the madonna, and somehow becomes more useless because of the rampant sexism, and the perceived sexualization that will always follow Lucy's character despite her being a symbol of purity, and the perfect victim.

Just to tell you that the first encounter between Lucy and Dracula here is on the Whitby shore, but instead of being a glance of red eyes that incites dread, teenager Lucy is alone when wolf Dracula steps on Whitby soil, and something really gross it's implied for shock value, and I had to put the phone down, and take a moment.

ALSO STOP DRAWING 15 YEARS OLD LUCY NAKED JUST STOP. IT WILL NEVER LOOK ETHEREAL NO MATTER HOW MANY FUCKING FLOWERS YOU DRAW ON THE PANEL BECAUSE THE FOCUS IS ON LUCY BEING NAKED. THERE IS LITERALLY A FUCKING PANEL WHERE LUCY IS COMPLETELY NAKED, AND EVERYONE (INCLUDING ADULT VAN HELSING) JUST STARES, AND IT HAS EVERY SINGLE INSULT ON THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, and that scene is so cheap edgy that I can't.

Also all of the symbolism, and mystery of the bloofer lady is gone because here vampire Lucy graphically kills the children she feeds from, so... another plot line into the trash.

[tom-whore-dleston]

good days: I think you should write for sam wilson and I'm giving you this prompt: "don't play dumb, you know what i want." "spell it out for me, baby."

Bad Days and Good Head

Pairing: Sam Wilson x f. reader

Genre: smut (lemon)

Warnings: sub!Sam, dom!reader, mommy kink (she came back w/o an invitation), face sitting, tongue fucking, implied blowjob

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Sam is more than ready to make you feel better after a bad day at work.

Notes: Thank you queen Selene for the request! I love Sam and am so excited to share my first fic of him 🥹🫶 And thank you @mochie85 for beta reading 🥰 Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊

What makes you feel empowered?

There is no right or wrong answer to this question. In fact, that answer can change at any point in your life. When you were a young child, you felt empowered when you won your school spelling bee. As a teenager, you felt empowered when you confronted your sworn enemy after being fed up with her bullying. Now that you are an adult, nothing is more empowering than having a beautiful man submit to your every desire, giving you orgasm after orgasm.

That man being Captain America himself, Mr. Sam Wilson. 

You landed your dream job of working at the White House, which was where you met Sam. He was a frequent visitor, mainly so the President could have an excuse to take pictures with him and post them on social media. The two of you met in a meeting and the sexual tension between you was so strong that the President had to table the meeting out of awkwardness. It didn’t take long for you and Sam to sneak into the closest bathroom to fuck each other’s brains out. And so that was the beginning of your blossoming relationship.

Although you were grateful to be given the opportunity to work your dream job, today was one of those days where you wished you could be anywhere but the White House. You were slammed with paperwork and meetings that could have easily been an email. As you sunk into the couch with your feet kicked up on the coffee table, Sam was immediately by your side, massaging your aching feet. 

“Bad day?” He asked sympathetically.

You sighed. “”Bad’ doesn’t even cut it.” 

Sam puckered his lower lip and gazed up at you with sullen eyes. “Any way I can make it better?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I want.” You didn’t care how demanding and snappy you sounded. Your main priority was to forget about how awful work was while getting some mind blowing head. Lucky for you, Sam was turned on by your feistiness and he was ready to please you on your signal.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded. Your star spangled man began to crawl on top of you when you stopped him.

“Actually, I think we should spice things up.” Sam stared at you like a deer in headlights. “Lie down on the couch.” 

He switched positions with you, his back flat against the leather cushions as you hovered over him. As you unzipped your skirt and pulled your tights down, Sam grew curious as to what you had in store for him. However, he knew better than to question your motives. You trained him well enough to only ask the important questions such as “Is this okay?” or “Do you like when I do this?” You liked things simple. It turned you off when Sam, and even past partners, would try to have small talk during sex so you made it a point to keep conversation to a minimum. 

Sam’s eyes landed on your bare pussy, which inched closer to his face as you climbed over him. At this point, he had a few ideas of what you wanted him to do to you. 

“Ready to eat Mommy’s pussy, baby?” 

It was as if a switch was flipped inside Sam. A switch that only you were allowed to turn on and off. His voice became whiny and his cock strained in his pants.

“Fuck, yes, Mommy! I just want to make you feel good.”

You let out a sinister chuckle. “Good boy.”

With that, you lowered your hips down until your pussy pressed snugly against his plush lips. A blissful sigh escaped your throat as he devoured your cunt. 

What were you so worked up about again? Doesn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was your pleasure. 

Sam’s tongue teased your slick hole, causing you to lightly rut your hips against his face. He gripped your thighs before plunging his tongue inside you and stretching your entrance. 

“Oh, fuck!” You shouted, grasping the couch for leverage. “Leave your tongue out like that. I wanna fuck it.” Sam did as you asked and you bounced on top of his tongue, your uncontrolled moans filling the room. 

The sight of you riding his tongue with your eyes rolling to the back of your head made his cock throb with need. The need to feel your hands and lips and pussy around his length, giving him the same attention he was giving you. But he knew that moment would come. Right now was about you. 

“God, I love your tongue! Feels so good- shit!” At that moment, Sam started flicking your clit with his fingers while shoving his tongue in and out of you. Your nails dug into the upholstery as you felt your release approaching. The man beneath you smirked against your heat as your legs began to tremble. 

“Keep going, baby. Make me come like that, please, please, please! I’m so close!” Your beau rubbed your clit faster while tracing figure eights in your pussy. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. It could’ve been a move Sam did or it could have been the pressure building up like air in a balloon. Either way, your pleasure exploded into little sparkles of bliss. Your back arched into a perfect curve as you cried your lover’s name into the abyss. Sam lapped up the sticky mess between his face and your mound as the aftershocks coursed through your body. He kissed your bud, which was your cue to hop off his face and join him on the couch.

“Jesus, Sam, that was-“

“Yeah, I could tell.” Sam laughed, petting your head as you pressed your ear to his heartbeat. Your head bobbed along with his chest as he cleared his throat.

“So, can I, uhhh…” 

You rolled onto your front side, resting your chin on top your folded arms and kicking your feet in the air. Part of you could already guess what Sam wanted to say, but something about the way he would get flustered after eating you out was cute and sexy at the same time. 

“What is it? Spell it out for me, baby.”

Sam chuckled shyly. “Can you suck my cock? Please…Mommy?”

Your lips brushed his softly before you slid down his body to unbutton his pants.

“Thought you would never ask, baby.”

Navigation | Fic Masterlist | Sam Wilson Masterlist

[jaimeslanisters]

so do you have any thoughts about Aemond's scenes in the latest episode?

i do! thank you for asking!

under the cut because, per usual, got carried away with my yapping

so to start with the major scene that i’m sure this ask is mainly about, i’m actually a fan of them exploring his trauma response to luke’s death being seeking out a source of comfort no matter how twisted and warped it is for him. as fucked up as it is, it makes sense that he seeks out the brothel owner who sa’d him as a child since that’s an “easy” way to comfort. she won’t ask him any hard questions about storm’s end. she won’t tell him anything he won’t want to hear. he doesn’t want alicent’s resentment at him for destroying their only chance at peace. he doesn’t want aegon treating it as a massive joke. he wants someone to hold him and tell him “you’ve grown. you’re not that little bullied boy anymore.” and, as disturbing as it is, the brothel owner fits that perfectly. he doesn’t have anyone else to seek out and so he turns to his first sexual interaction, one that was transactional in nature because he gets some semblance of control with it

i don’t agree with takes that his seeking comfort with the brothel owner is oedipal in nature. i kind of don’t even think their relationship is sexual in nature. of course, future episodes could prove me wrong here but i think him being stripped down is more him freeing himself from reminders of his position and role rather than he’s having sex with her. him having sex with her is so straightforward for this when i feel like this is so wrapped up in self loathing and low self esteem

now….. i’m disappointed with the rest of the episode. i enjoyed it, don’t get me wrong. i enjoyed it way more than the first episode. but i think there needed to be more. maybe i’ll never be satisfied but like….. where was the funeral? and where was everyone attending it? i can buy aegon not going out of grief/preferring to beat blood’s brains out but i don’t buy otto encouraging him not to go. if helaena could inspire the masses to see her as a grief stricken queen ala princess diana, could aegon’s rage not similarly whip up the smallfolk? likewise, did aemond just…. not go? jaehaerys was his nephew, his sister’s life was threatened, and we don’t get to see how he reacts to that? we don’t get to see his guilt and his grief and his horror?

as the in house pr manager, otto should have paraded all of the targtowers out. hell, he should have called up daeron and added one more pretty, heartbroken targaryen for the masses to get parasocially attached to. but that’s humanizing the greens so i guess that’s not allowed.

i fear that hotd is running into the exact same problems that got faced in its final seasons, mainly refusing to allow any time for the plot or the characters to breathe. ten episodes is honestly far too short for asoiaf but it still gave us time to hit the major points and get to see the characters in moments where they’re not propelling the plot forward and are instead introspective. they’re interacting with one another and facing the interpersonal consequences of what they inflict on other people. s1 of hotd sped through the years and as a result, the tragedy of the dance of dragons being a house cannibalizing themselves is lost bc the blacks and the greens feel like entirely two separate houses rather than deeply intertwined branches of one.

so i enjoy the general bones of what’s been presented. there’s nothing that i hate completely (aside from alicent’s plotline which while i’m not against alicole on principle, i’m against how it was just tossed at us without showing us how it started considering what a big deal it is for both characters. also not super big into the depictions of her and her complicated relationship with motherhood but that might just be me) but i just wish the writers were more willing to slow down and explore each team on equal grounds

big big fan of aemond’s sherlock holmes era tho ☝🏼 observant king

[white-weasel]

I loved reading about finnean in your tags of that poll reblog. This is your sign, if you want one, to talk about him (or any of your other characters) all you want. Fascinating little guy

Anon you have unleashed the floodgates I think... This is gonna be a mix of general information, campaign recaps related to him, and just general brain rot so uhhhhh who's to say if this will be even remotely intelligible lmao

So like I laid out in the tags of that post, Finnean Galondel is a high elf Order of the Scribes Wizard (currently we're at level 14). He's currently 91 and since elves reach the age of maturity at ~100 at least according to the PHB, I started by playing him as the equivalent of someone going off to college for the first time: very smart, but because he had never traveled very far outside of his village before so kinda naive about how the world actually works. He's certainly matured over the course of the campaign, but he does still tend towards optimistic outlooks

The backstory I originally provided for him was pretty brief. Essentially, Finnean's father had been out of the picture ever since he was 5 years old. Nobody really knows what happened to him. His mother told him that he was a very dedicated scholar, studying magic and history in general, but specializing in one specific area thousands of years old. Then, one night, he apparently stumbled on a huge discovery and told her that he needed to take it to the village elders right away. He left and wasn't back the next morning, the village elders saying that he never even approached them that night. Nobody knows why he decided to leave the village, or if it even was a voluntary decision at all. However, since 85 year had passed since then, Finnean and his mother essentially treated him like he was dead by that point.

And Finnean and his mom!! He is SUCH a mama's boy it's not even funny. Before the campaign, she was his best friend in the world. He loved helping her out around the house and just spending time with her. However, she was the one who pushed Finnean to leave home so that he could branch out in his training. She knew that he was pretty sheltered and needed real world experience if he was to actually improve and become a better wizard like he wanted. I have written multiple letters to my DM in character throughout the campaign for what Finnean was sending to his mom to keep her up to date

There was also Daemaris (hate this fucking bitch) who I originally included as Finnean's childhood bully. He's basically the village golden child who has always outshone Finnean and then rubbed it in his face. He left the village to strike out on his own a couple years before Finnean did and for right now all you need to know is he's an asshole and I hate him ajafsldf (he will become important later tho)

So yeah not to get into the details of everything we did in the first part of the campaign, but we played through the Dragon Heist module with some supplementary side adventures. Here, Finnean gets his first experience with violence and actually taking a life, as everything he's done before has been in controlled environments. He struggled with this for some time, about the realities of adventuring compared to all the books he had read that had made it sort of idyllic and heroic (because of course he's a huge book nerd, he's a wizard)

The thing that kinda makes him come to terms with death and killing is the group's first encounter with an evil cult (typical dnd stuff yknow). Basically it's all the horrible things, the group saw piles of bodies, but also saw a few survivors who were horrible brainwashed + traumatized from everything. We fought this cult leader, Vialis, but before we could finish him off, he teleported away. Finnean, seeing all the death and carnage around him, realized that he wished that they had been able to kill this man so he could never do this to anyone else again. Sometimes the world is a better place with certain people dead. (This cult encounter is where we have gotten one of the lines that has become our paladin's maxim throughout the campaign and has now become a central theme: "Death is inevitable, but not today" Whether that death is the PCs, those NPCs/citizens we are trying to protect, etc. Everyone will eventually die, but that doesn't mean we won't fight like hell to push it down the line later. So yeah, Finnean realizes that sometimes killing is necessary and it's part of his duty as an adventurer to carry it out.

During the course of Dragon Heist, Finnean and his friends (our party calls themelves The Keepers of the Howling Moon because we set up/own a karaoke bar in Waterdeep called The Howling Moon and it just sounds sick as shit) work for Vajra Safahr, the Blackstaff. She's basically the archmage of Waterdeep and I love her so much. Finnean and her have developed a friendship throughout the campaign. At first, I'm pretty sure she viewed him as a kid with a good heart, but green in the gills. However, as the party learned and grew and saved Waterdeep from devils, she has become much more comfortable with the party. Finnean opened up to her about his own self-doubt to her and she in turn revealed her own insecurities as the youngest Blackstaff in Waterdeep history and how she is pulled in a million different directions always. Whenever we're in Waterdeep and have downtime, Finnean spends a lot of time with her. Usually, he'll visit her tower and they'll each work on whatever they need to together. We have sending stones that connect directly to her and are CONSTANTLY trying to fill her in on what's going on with us. I just... love her so much

Another important NPC to Finnean is one Renaer Neverember. I wanna say we met him in session two, saw him be insanely competent in battle, and Finnean was IMMEDIATELY smitten with him. At the beginning of the campaign there was... so much failed flirting and obliviousness on Finnean's end. I think the most mortifying one was, Finnean went to his house, followed a courting ritual suggested by another party member (who, unbeknownst to him at this point, had just escaped from a cult so her perspective on romance was severely skewed), and then, when Renaer tried to let him down gently, misinterpreted his words and believed they were dating. After lots of second hand embarrassment, Finnean got his ass handed to him emotionally (Renaer basically said "look, you seem like a great guy, but I have a lot going on with my dad rn" but was never a dick) and resolved that they would never be more than friends.

However, there have been so many moments where Renaer singles out Finnean specifically from the rest of the party: getting bracers of defense for his birthday, lingering touches as the party goes off the Baldur's Gate, etc, etc. So in character, Finnean has already resolved they can never be more than friends based just on how badly all previous attempts at pursuing him went. Out of character I am just SCREAMING because the stories of Finnean and Renaer are so similar to each other, but so different.

Renaer has a bad relationship with his father Dagult, who is an important figure in the city of Neverwinter. His father embezzled a shit ton of Waterdeep money and then dipped. Renaer has had to deal with the mess his father left behind, despite how much he wants to wash his hands of everything and be his own person. To most people he will be a Neverember first, and then Renaer. Finnean, on the other hand, barely knew his father. He used his father's books to study and connected to him that way, but there was never any expectation placed on him to be anything but himself. However, when he learns more about his father, who he was and how he disappeared, he knows that he must finish what his dad started, no matter how much the idea of it scares him.

Speaking of Finnean's dad, Finnean found out more about him by a Cleric/Warlock of the Raven Queen literally giving him the memories of his father's last moments. He had been researching this ancient lich and had finally figured out his location. He left a package and letter to Finnean and then set out to confront the lich. He didn't tell anyone what he was doing and didn't take any sort of backup with him. He ultimately died in his quest.

So cue a couple weeks in game later, we finally make our way back to Finnean's village to retrieve this package for Finnean, which pointed out some suspect ruins. There was a SHIT ton of stuff that happened there for each of us PCs (Paladin/Barbarian from the cult of Orcus had an emotional confrontation with her older brother, trying to save him from whatever entity's control he was under and Warlock/Sorcerer basically found out that she was not who she thought she was (too convoluted to explain easily, but essentially due to the trauma of seeing her sister die in front of her, she took on the persona of her sister to shield herself from that truth + her patron took advantage of that trauma further in making their pact)). The shit that happened with Finnean was twofold

Motherfucking DAEMARIS of all people was in these ruins, performing a ritual to open a portal for the bbeg lich. Finnean always knew he was an asshole, but he never thought he could ever actually be evil. They had a very intense confrontation, and when Finnean tried to get an answer about why Daemaris was doing this and hurting people, Daemaris accused Finnean of being a hypocrite. He wasn't very clear, but essentially said that they both play judge, jury, and executioner. They both kill. We have not played much past this, but now Finnean is spiraling because he thinks that Daemaris might be right. The first time Finnean killed someone, he literally threw up. Now though, he and his party members kill those they deem evil without hesitation and is that right for him? Yes, some people are probably better off dead, but to the extent of what they've been doing? He has a lot to think about. Even if this isn't true, Daemaris' mind games have worked on him. I definitely see a future where Finnean hesitates in the heat of battle and either he, or worse, one of his friends gets hurt because of it. Also, even though I as a player really really want to kill Daemaris, I think Finnean will struggle with this a lot more and probably won't be able to finish him off

Nezerac, the lich, was able to get through the portal and gave a long villain speech and one of the things he said implied that something about Finnean was only able to do all this because of him (so that could mean the source of his magic, his lineage, his village, SOMETHING) which is really just horrifying. And also probably gives a hint as to why Daemaris is working with Nezerac. He also revealed that he had been keeping an eye on the whole party since the very beggining which is so concerning. Nezerac then straight up killed Finnean and the Warlock and then provided two diamonds for the paladin to revivify them as a power move/taunt. And like I said, haven't played past this yet but Finnean is gonna SPIRAL and feel a shit ton of guilt about the entire encounter because the only reason his friends were there was because of him.

I think Finnean has half a thought that he should not let them get involved further, that he needs to hide his guilt that he feels about putting them in this position. He needs to be stronger and strong means that he would be able to handle this on his own. But then he also remembers the last memories of his father (which are now as good as his own memories), where he tried to confront Nezerac on his own and the only thing he did was get himself killed and give Nezerac another soul to gain power from. Maybe if he had spoken with Mordenkainen, or any of the other powerful wizards he knew, he would still be here and Finnean wouldn't be the one who has to deal with all of this. Something something, treading the path of his father but not making the same mistakes

There's probably stuff I'm leaving out about him, but like... I love him. If anything happens to Finnean I will genuinely be inconsolable for at least a week. He's the first dnd character I ever created and I absolutely love playing him because he has all this real shit going on, but also has the capacity to be Just A Little Guy when we aren't in the thick of it. (And I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I think he gets a lot of good, funny moments outside of serious scenes to keep things from getting too dire)

Rapid fire little moments/facts about Finnean:

He has a ferret familiar named Fenny (short for Fenjamin). Fenny's "wriggly body is optimized for dance" and essentially when he's running around the battlefield and distracting our enemies (aka giving the help action to give one of us advantage on attacks) he's "dancing" :)

Met Volo (aka in-universe writer of Volo's Guide to Monsters), had an insane fanboy moment, and got him to sign multiple things including a copy of the book which he kept as a prized possession

His wizard robes were sewn for him by his mom and his name is stitched into the neck part

His spellbook is actually a library book from his hometown. He didn't realize that those needed to be returned though, so it's horribly horribly overdue (we actually just got back to his village a session or two ago and he had to pay a huge fine on it because it's now so beat up it can't be returned lol)

Made the poor choice of buying a Gucci belt for way too much gold (from Old Man Gucci at Ye Old Gucci Shoppe) but then became disillusioned with the drip when he kept seeing assholes wearing them

Helped make magical WWE called Mage Mania (I ordered shirts for my group as Christmas gifts after 2 years of us joking about it. I'm so excited for these)

For an event at the karaoke bar, he disguised self to make himself look like a women. Rolled a nat 20 for hotness and so was disguised as an extremely hot MILF. Daemaris (back before we knew he was like... actually evil) hit on him endlessly and it was very fun to see his reaction when Finnean dropped the disguise and revealed that he had been pursuing the "idiot loser" all night

Loves to study and learn languages (he initially bonded with the paladin/barbarian by taking Abyssal lessons from her)

[deltaruminations]

if i can be momentarily ship-for-brains a little bit i do think the implication of asriel and dess having had A Thing is very interesting when considered from the Eloping From The Narrative/Dess ‘n’ Dings Mobius Double Reacharound* perspective. because like yeah what’s more Rejecting The Narrative than the story’s intended hero rejecting her made-to-be love interest and waltzing around the Fantasy Holes with the story’s intended villain instead, directly defying the Will of their absent clockmaker God

like. thinking about the relationships around Dess, both the Holiday and Dreemurr parents were literally Made For Each Other — we know that at least Asgore and Toriel are the same Type of monster (this isn’t yet confirmed for the Holidays, but i think it’s more likely than not. also i will be shocked if the Mayor’s name isn’t Clarice. come on.), which fits common Fictional Family tropes — but even before her disappearance there may have been cracks forming. we don’t know enough about rudy and c’s relationship yet to say much about it, but we do know they didn’t start off on the best foot, though rudy plays off their meeting as a funny anecdote.** asgore and toriel were high school sweethearts who, if we follow that trope, may have never considered seeing anyone else before getting hitched, and we know (from our perspective later in the timeline) that the marriage failed. rudy and asgore have long-standing and extremely obvious chemistry but apparently never seriously entertained the idea that they’d make a good couple.

and then their first born kids seem to be in a perfect position to be Love Interests — they’re next door neighbors, childhood friends, she even wears his jacket. a perfectly wholesome Story Couple. of course asriel is the perfect love interest, the sweet, popular golden boy, her parents’ best friends’ child and someone the bulk of the audience already loves. i could see both in- and out-of-universe actors being very approving of it, even pressuring for it.

and i could see Dess, already rebellious, picking her own name and watching scary movies and wielding bats against bullies, looking at that whole situation and mistrusting it and thinking, Maybe I Should Explore My Options. maybe asriel is, if she’s being honest, a little boring. and, well, who’s that strange, spooky boy who just showed up in town one day? the one who keeps giving her Halloween pencils*** and seems to know just a little too much about quantum optics? the quiet outsider no one seems to like or trust very much? maybe he needs a friend. so they start to hang out. they stumble onto Dark Worlds together, and that becomes their little secret — not just because the Dark Worlds themselves are so exciting, mysterious, and dangerous, but because they can sense that the relationship is increasingly transgressive. her parents can’t know. asriel definitely can’t. these two kids’ relationship becomes so entangled in the escape of a collaborative fiction in which they can safely and authentically be themselves, together, that they end up dragging the whole universe with them into a struggle over creative disagreements (do we let it end with the Roaring or not?) that is really, at its core, about an unspoken mutual fear of losing each other. as above so below etc.

the possibilities in that for tying together other story threads… there are a lot. i dunno. ex: if this is D&D’s little secret, who’s the other person in “YOU TWO”? well, what if kris followed them on one of their excursions? what if they knew about the Dark Worlds, and even the burgeoning relationship, but struck a deal — they get to join in the adventure as long as they don’t tell. maybe the “deals” and “agreements” between kris and will-be extraplanar entities run deep. convenient, isn’t it, that kris as player-vessel can’t talk as far as a Player is concerned, and can’t speak freely to other characters? they can’t spill secrets or tell of any truths or promises they may know exist in anyone’s hearts. if that wasn’t gaster’s doing, then what if it was dess’s? is this all just high-octane copium to justify liking a very fringe crack ship? probably. man. i don’t even fucking know. just. do you see my Vision. do you understand. also they’d just be funny together i think

*truly don’t know what an appropriate and succinct name would be for this theory/headcanon but i’m assuming you guys know what i’m talking about given that i won’t shut up about it

**it is, to be fair, pretty funny

***i know i know the Halloween pencil story from Get In The Car, Losers substantiates nothing. just. [takes an uncomfortably long, loud huff of copium] let me have this one vaguely evidence-adjacent thing. blease,