#characters go. their stories are over in canon !!!!!!! we cannot keep doing this to them LET MY BOY REST !!!!!

[simcardiac-arrested]

i'm curious, how do you feel abt the whole uuh, Michael reincarnated/his soul is stuck in glamrock freddy theory? if you've seen it floating around :0

yeah i’ve seen it around, my thoughts are that as an actual canon theory: it doesn’t make a lot of sense and just isn’t very interesting or compelling. like why exactly would mike be possessing freddy when they’ve never had any relation??? there’s no actual proof for it in the game or ANYTHING. glambear doesnt even act like mike At All people just came up with that theory because gregory looks like evan . but listen we have GOT TO LET THE AFTON FAMILY REST FOR REAL !!!! WE HAVE GOT TO LET MICHAEL REST HE HAS TO GOOOO !!!!!!! as an AU concept: sure why not. it can be interesting but also honestly i think a lot of people just Dont Understand how mike would act if he was actually possessing glamrock freddy. he would not be doing all that niceys fixing his mistakes and projecting shit he would be in the fucking torture labyrinth. having to deal with a kid that looks like his dead brother? Yeah he’s in the torture labyrinth. everyone include this in your mike is glamrock freddy au

[cdroloisms]

always absolutely fucking hilarious when sbiers in their self-righteous need to assert themselves as better than everyone else in the same way they've done since 2020 even when they're apparently 'out of the fandom' and consider the whole thing cringe and dead (skill issue, methinks) go all um acktually no one cared abt any of the lore except for c!sbi. like well for one thing i don't know of a c!sbi personally speaking i'd like for you to point out to me where character sleepy boys inc ever like, existed, because it certainly wasn't in any dream smp i watched like is there even a single moment where the four of them interact together alone??? and secondly, it's always reeeeeeally obvious when they mean this as a diss on The Other Side Of The Fandom (read, dream team and co) when two-thirds of the dream team just did nawt have any interest in being part of the 'main characters' in the first place and would much rather do their own thing and roleplay in ways that wouldn't get picked apart for ages on twitter dot com, and the other member of the dream team played a character so integral to the lore that even c!inniters will often name him before they name their own goddamn guy because they cannot keep his name out of their mouths (see, the meme i saw like literally just yesterday that boiled down to me, after learning the dream smp lore: i need to kill c!dream). like bro yall are c!inniters you're not fooling anyone you think that the entire story revolves around this one teenager being abused and then completely ignore the months of abuse that was shown on screen for us before exile. "c!sbi" like cmon now guys the ao3 pages are like, right there, we all know who ends up being the villain for ur sbi fanfic that has its foundations in a dynamic that literally never existed in canon.

like "no one cared about anyone's lore except for wilbur and tommy--" well yes they were in fact some of the main fucking characters. imagine someone going up to you and going "well no one cared about the lore in the star wars original trilogy except for luke and leia" like damn really?? (now imagine this same person trying to convince you that darth vader's role was unimportant, actually.) like yeah the dream smp involved a lot of separate storylines and each of those storylines might've had their own "main cast" of characters but i'm also not blind bro, the story that started at the start of the fucking server and the start of the fucking lore was ABSOLUTELY the "wilbur-dream-tommy" triangle that is, in fact, the story that the l'manburg revolution was built on and the story that remains the throughline literally until tommy and dream have their confrontation with a nuke coming down over their heads, something that the characters themselves acknowledge with the repetition of the idea of tommy and tubbo against dream. LIKE ALKJSDFKJSADF yeah bro there were main characters in the tommy-dream-wilbur story an that's also the story that people tended to be invested in in the beginning, to the point where even other self-contained stories in the dream smp absolutely referenced and emulated it (cough cough, las nevadas). like, why are we acting like it's at all groundbreaking for people to be invested in THEEE fucking story the one that first started to exist because at the time basically no one else was part of The Roleplaying Trio and then slowly got padded out and developed as the server developed more and more into the lore server?

and it's the fact that none of these people, too, would deny that they care about ex. c!schlatt in manberg, right, or c!quackity in relation to c!wilbur's deal, etc etc whatever. like breaking news you gaf about The Story as a dream smp fan wow am i supposed to be like, surprised. do you want a medal. LIKE LKJASDJF

[blackkatdraws]

Black and Narry lore! [Narry is owned by @insomniphic and some of the art here were drawn by her too]

[Small Note: None of these are canonical to their stories and were made just FOR FUN.]

As a being of purity and light, Narry was appalled when he first came across Black who appeared to be the very embodiment of darkness and wrongness [at least in Narry's point of view]. Narry sees Black as a waste of potential because of how much power Black ["the bad guy"] has at his disposal.

Black feels indifferent to Narry's existence, as he's already used to similar beings like him. He sees Narry as a waste of power since he's clearly holding it back for the sake of the people he wants to protect.

Because of how much impurity Black's power emits, Narry is incapable of seeing Black normally.

In Narry's perspective, Black is a huge writhing mass of something that's very unpleasant to look at. This appearance is inconsistent and can shift continuously. This effect extends all the way to even photos or depictions of Black.

He physically cannot [refuses to] be in the same room as Black because he can't stand the feeling, the smell, the sight, everything about his power. It sickens him.

There's no context for this comic. This is a What If scenario where Black and Narry are going somewhere together when a group of bad guys come and attack them.

Narry is the type to hold back his true power in order not to hurt the people that are attacking him which annoys Black into stepping in [because he has somewhere else more important to be and Narry is delaying it].

Of course, Narry ends up getting injured and Narry makes Black promise he won't kill the aggressors before passing out.

[Admittedly, this scenario breaks a few canonical lore for both characters but we'll go with it for now.]

As a response to that idea, Insomni drew this.

Narry wakes up after the fight was long over and he sees piles of bloody bodies laying on the floor. He gets upset that Black didn't follow through their promise.

Black does not care. Instead, he laughs at Narry for finally snapping [considering it took a while for Narry to finally loose his cool at Black].

Black did keep his promise. All the aggressors are still alive, but barely.

We talked some more about their dynamic and we both drew these.

In this scenario, Black and Narry are fighting. [Started by Narry, who had the full intent to kill him for (what he perceives as) the greater good.]

He thinks this world would become cleaner without Black around.

Narry is convinced that Black is a monster incapable of feeling or doing anything remotely positive. Even as Black saves Stanley from the attack that Narry himself sent towards Black, he's still in that mentality where he sees everything that Black does as something for negative reasons.

Narry is a good person but his (justified) blind dislike for Black leads him into taking extreme actions at times. Plenty of people dislike Black for what he is, but Narry is the only one with the power to actually do something about it.

[The last drawing is another What If scenario where Black had to take Stanley and flee because he keeps getting in the way of their fight (and Narry is too focused on his task to take other people into account). Black doesn't want Stanley dying because of a stupid scuffle.]

[Note that Narry won't actually hurt anybody EXCEPT Black, he's a good guy who wants to do what's best for other people. Black is just EVILLLLL mwehehehe]

[Then I proposed another What If scenario where Narry won the fight causing Insomni to draw this.]

As Narry was about to strike with a powerful attack to finally end him off, he felt something familiar coming from within Black.

In the ocean of filthy dark energy Black emitted, there was light.

It was small. It flickered weakly in the air as the darkness that kept it safe was falling apart, but it didn't go out. It lit up softly without any signs of extinguishing any time soon.

Narry was in disbelief.

Stanley had done the impossible. His relationship with Black had given birth to a different side of Black's power, tucked away deep inside where only they're allowed to see.

And it was now in full display to Narry.

As a being filled with goodness and empathy, his guilt starts to eat away at him as he finally snaps out of it and sees the extent of what his impulsive actions have done.

[Insomni and I both agree that their fights would probably be settled with a draw or mutual death, so this scenario is not as probable to happen. It's interesting to think about though.]

[Again, breaking a few canonical lores but we like gay people here so it's whatever. I was the one who proposed the idea anyway. (❁´◡`❁)]

-------♦

[Here are fun extra doodles!!]

[antianakin]

I think I'm able to perhaps put a few words to why I really dislike that the Ahsoka show had her choose to come to the conclusion that Anakin was GOOD, that he was a good person and good teacher to her, rather than having her refuse to forgive him and just having to let go of him entirely.

Ahsoka is a character who has been, for her ENTIRE RUN on Star Wars, defined by Anakin and her relationship to him. She's never been able to escape that. She was created as an explanation for why Anakin "matured" over the three year gap between AOTC and ROTS, but her lack of existence in the films means she can have no greater impact on Anakin than that. She is wholly irrelevant to his character but she does not EXIST without him. In Rebels, she is only in one season where all of her appearances are fixated on her discovery of Anakin's betrayal and how that impacts her, leading up to their final confrontation where she appears to die fighting him. She comes back only so her relationship with Anakin can be used to help Ezra let go of Kanan. In TOTJ, she has an entire episode dedicated to explaining that the only reason she survived Order 66 was because of some kind of special training Anakin gave her that made her stronger, better, faster than any other Jedi. In The Mandalorian, her appearance was full of subtext about her trauma regarding Anakin and the way she reacts to other Jedi as a result of that. In The Book of Boba Fett appearance, that subtext is still there, primarily in her conversation with Luke where she even tells him how much he reminds her of Anakin. Which leaves us with the Ahsoka show itself and how it REVOLVES around that relationship, from Sabine being turned into Anakin 2.0 to everything in episode 5 to Ahsoka claiming she'll support Sabine in everything because this is what Anakin did for her to Anakin literally showing up in ghost form to Thrawn predicting everything Ahsoka will do because he has some familiarity with Anakin.

Ahsoka CANNOT escape this relationship, she cannot move out from this particular shadow and become her own person because her character seems to ONLY EXIST to be "Anakin's student." She can almost literally not stand on her own at this point. If her story doesn't revolve around Anakin in some way, it doesn't seem to really exist (please keep in mind here that I am mostly looking at HIGH CANON appearances for this because that's what I am familiar with; I'm sure that some comics have probably managed to move away from her relationship to Anakin a little bit sometimes but I haven't read any of them so they're not being counted in this analysis, especially since I don't think they're really impacting her higher canon characterization anyway).

It's even just visible in how other characters perceive her. She is constantly being COMPARED to Anakin, we keep hearing how like Anakin she is. The only time I can think of that she is compared to anyone OTHER than Anakin is when Trace and Rafa tell her that she acts like a Jedi even if she isn't currently calling herself one (bless their SOULS for this moment, they deserved so much better than the hate they got and one single appearance on fucking TBB). We never hear anyone say she reminds them of Obi-Wan, or Yoda, or Plo Koon. It's ALWAYS Anakin even though she's known Yoda and Plo Koon longer and she seems to spend almost as much time with Obi-Wan as she does Anakin.

By having Ahsoka decide to deal with her feelings about Anakin by just... setting aside all the bad shit he did and focusing ONLY on the good moments that he had and letting that define him, it makes it nearly impossible to separate her from him. If he's good, then it's a GOOD thing to compare her to him. If he's good, then his influence on her HAS to have been a good one. For me, it ruins ANY nuance that could have come from going the opposite direction and recognizing that while he had some good moments, he was in fact an overall bad person who was a terrible teacher to her. He betrayed her, he tried to kill her (and only failed because she was saved by someone else), he abandoned her. I don't care WHAT he did before this, this automatically makes him a BAD TEACHER.

And recognizing that Anakin was a bad teacher would force Ahsoka to look at HERSELF more critically, too, to recognize the places where she has made the same mistakes perhaps, where she's started leading herself down a similar path to his, and then choosing to NOT BE LIKE HIM. Anakin should be (like he is with Luke) the personification of her own darkness. Palpatine represented Anakin's greatest demons and personifications, Anakin can represent something similar for Ahsoka. He is an indisputable part of her now, but she doesn't HAVE to become him, she doesn't have to let that CONTROL her. And by making that choice, she frees herself from being defined by him for the rest of her life.

But now, the narrative has bound Ahsoka to Anakin forever. She'll never be anything more than Anakin's student because this has become what defines her as a person and a character. And it just... it sucks. Ahsoka deserved better than that.

[fernsnouveau]

I actually disliked the direction where I'd recently seen a bunch of the more reasonable S5-critical ML fandom people going. Those discussions and analyses were spiraling increasingly towards demonising Marinette over time, as we were left hanging with the s5 ending for a long time, and the fandom had nothing new to talk about.

I actually liked her flaws.

But then the canon does... this...

And I do admit, it's an in-character way to push Marinette towards a villain arc. Like, if I had to construct a darkfic scenario where Marinette goes evil and try to keep it as close to her canon personality as possible, it would look something like this. Which, I guess, means that it's theoretically easier for me to accept than, for example, S5's occasional incidents of Edgy Murderboy Chat Noir (how is that the same character who had TWO guilt-based mental breakdowns about accidentally cataclysming someone completely out of his control, including the main villain??!). I'm sure there are in-character ways to turn Adrien (or anyone else) into a villain, but Murder-Noir was Not It.

Of course another reason why the writing of Murder-Noir gives me extra heebie jeebies, was how it felt like an abuse apologia excuse, validating Gabriel's accusations for Adrien to not "deserve" autonomy, nor to experience or express any negative, inconvenient emotions. Murder-Noir feels like it's a writing choice directed at child abuse victims in the audience, who related to Adrien. "See, your abuser was right, you're horrible and overly emotional and out of control, so you NEED to be rigidly controlled for your own and everyone else's good!

Anyway.

While I admit that Marinette taking up Gabriel's mantle this way is technically in character, I cannot claim to enjoy the writing choice at all. I liked Marinette's flaws. I wanted to explore them. I did not want her demonised to this extent. She could have been meaningfully flawed without becoming better at being Gabriel, than Gabriel himself was!

After this, the only justification for the lovesquare to stay together, would be as a wish-fulfillment or "reward" for Marinette, and that's not enough for me. When I think about, if there was a real-life abuse victim in Adrien's position (minus the supernatural elements), and then they were friends with, and/orstarted dating someone who repeatedly treated them the way Maribug has been doing (and "repeatedly" is important here, it demonstrates unwillingness to learn from mistakes and be sincere about apologies – S4 was brushed under a rug as soon as Chat Noir superficially forgave!), ESPECIALLY but not only siding with the abusive parent and lying to the victim that the abuse they experienced was "not really abuse" and For Their Own Good, and demonstrated this complete infantilisation and lack of respect for the abuse victim, wanting to see them only as a palatable, innocent fairytale being who's not allowed to be inconvenient, express negative emotions, make informed choices mor generally be a complete person...

Obviously the right thing to do, for the abuse victim, would be to get the hell away from that person.

It does NOT mean that the person is irredeemable. They're just... not owed the abuse victim's forgiveness and continued presence in their life.

And I can't ignore that anymore.

We failed to get an arc about Adrien surviving and escaping Gabriel and healing. He has now been put into a position where, in order to ever be okay, he would have to survive and escape Marinette in order to heal.

I don't like this. It feels very hopeless and bleak and unenjoyable. I don't even think the story is gonna go there and free/heal Adrien (Astruc made it clear that Adrien isn't supposed to be his own character or have agency, he's supposed to be Marinette's accessory and that's never gonna change).

But as far as I'm concerned, any excuse for the lovesquare relationship to get back together after this, would have the unpalatable aftertaste of propaganda to make victims return to their abusers.

I don't like this trajectory!!!

[carlos-in-glasses]

I'm having some thoughts and feelings, for reasons.

The feelings are that I'm so grateful for this beautiful fandom and the beautiful couple in the picture above. The thoughts are beneath the read more and can be taken or left. The picture cannot be left, however. Taken is the only option. You need to see it because look how cute they are!

For prosperity:

Something I always 'explore', if you will, in my own writing is how people process the concept of time. Endings, beginnings, the past and the future linking up. Your past self always being with you like a spectre. The present feeling like a marble rolling around a tube... I think this is because I'm not good with change or saying goodbye, but I do know that endings always lead to something else. Which is scary, because you don't necessarily know what that will bring.

Thinking about all of the above in terms of Lone Star is a different beast for me personally, because I've never had this kind of experience with a show or characters before, where I'm so compelled by it that I found my way into the fandom and have been creatively stimulated to the point of writing 25+ fics for it (which isn't nearly as many as others have produced! But to me it feels significant). So for that reason I want to say: When the show ends -(WHENEVER THAT MAY BE) - the characters don't. They don't end, not really. As long as we choose to keep talking about the themes, sharing meta posts, writing them or drawing them or creating gif sets, and revisiting them in rewatches or YouTube clips - there they are. Always. Either suspended in their moment and so easy to revisit in all their glory, or put in new situations in fic and art even years into the future. If this hiatus has taught us anything, it's that even without the show on air, there are still plenty of stories to tell and interpretations to be had, based on what came before. When the show ends, the thing that will unfortunately go is the speculation aspect, but what we have instead is a beautiful completed work that can inspire and be meaningful forever to those who already love it and for those who will find it in the future - and it will be found. Anything that exists can be found. (See: deep sea fish that glow in the dark (!)). And things that don't exist can be imagined.

We're so lucky to be the ones in the know when it comes to the show and to Tarlos. We know how special it is, what a gift it is. I'm not a spiritual person but I do feel oddly spiritual when it comes to this. Idk.

Something I've always hoped (as I'm sure we all have) is that we would know ahead of time that it's over. The show not being renewed between seasons is a thought that horrifies me to my core. I remember thinking towards the end of season 4: "At least if it doesn't get renewed, it ends with Tarlos being canon-married." Which, as a Tarlos super-fan, was my no.1. concern, but I love and care about the other characters too of course.

Going into season 5 and fearing it could be the last season, I had a huge tummy ache wondering if Tarlos would be on the rocks. If they ended on a cliffhanger having assumed season 6 was on the cards, we'd never get a resolution. But Rafa's Cameos have really eased my mind in that regard. Based not only on the tiny amount he's given away, but the way he talks about them loving each other, it sounds like they're going to be okay - and we're going to see it for ourselves that Tarlos really is endgame. In a time when hope is needed, we do have this. AND we have each other! As long as Tarlos ends happy, I for one intend to keep dancing, even if it means I'm the eccentric up on the table on my own doing the robot. But I would always like others to dance with.

Whatever happens, which we don't officially know yet, we can get through it together.

[wormlette]

smaller than everyone chilchuck being understood by autistic laios. is this anything. (i am small and autistic and felt deeply represented by your post)

Oh my god I spent so long writing a FUCKING RESPONSE and tumblr deleted it kill me. ANYWAY “is this anything” friend this is everything. 🤝

I think the two of them are uniquely able to understand each other bcuz in summary, the things they are both most vulnerable and affected by, the things that have probably damaged their lives most, are things they cannot conceal from others. Laios’ autism and Chilchuck’s size. There’s VERY good discussions on whether Chil is totally normal, autistic but very good at masking, somewhere inbetween, or even whether he’s cis, and those would all INFORM this conversation but whichever way you read him, he is socially aware enough to see that Laios is NOT. And it drives him crazy and he is constantly frustrated and trying to teach him to be more aware of himself as the party leader and just “be more normal”. In my opinion this is because Chil KNOWS how much it hurts to live with a part of yourself you can’t control that makes it hard to make your way through the world — in his own way, he is trying to take care of Laios. This may be both for selfish (he wants a good stable party and that requires a good socially savvy party leader) and selfless (chilaios…) reasons, but either way. It’s essentially just there in the text To Me.

Chilchuck is probably extra frustrated because, at least as he seems to see it, Laios COULD choose to shave off those rough edges of himself and “pass” as respectable/“normal”. (Another reason I kinda think Chil has his own autism thing happening. In my experience, shamefully, I’ve been least patient with people who I see as like me but they just haven’t figured out how to stop the world from hurting them like I have.) (I imagine chil often thinks things like. why don’t you just change. Don’t you see how much easier it would be for you. Don’t you see how much you’re letting the world hurt you. Don’t you know what that will do to you, over time.) meanwhile Chilchuck cannot stop the rest of the world from seeing him as either childLIKE or just straight up a tall-man kid. No matter how professional he is or how scathingly he can insult people or how much he can drink — he can’t stop what people SEE when they LOOK at him (this also makes him a great trans character To Me). I think Laios knows exactly how this feels. He’s not seen as a kid, so it’s not exactly the same. But despite having everything Chilchuck would like to have (tall, looks manly, socially respectable in appearances)… Laios is never going to pass as normal once people get to know him. He ISN’T socially aware. He CAN’T pretend to be someone else anymore, not once the story starts.

So autistic Laios keeps bumbling through social situations that make people want to fucking hunt him for sport. He can’t say the right things, and when he has tried to be himself, we can assume it’s been very poorly received in the past, both when dungeoneering and prior as a little kid. When he’s not being manic about his monster special interest he seems to constantly be doing an Autism Stare that serves to keep people away from him and his sister.

The fact that Chil and Laios both, to some degree, can’t hide what they hate most about themselves, makes them uniquely able to understand each other. And treat each other with sympathy/empathy underneath it all. Laios is the one out of their party who most treats Chilchuck as an adult with agency (understands the stress of his work, defends him, lets him steer situations, listens to his advice, never demeans him or gives any indication he thinks he’s a child altho he did assume Chil is younger than him). If the daydream hour extras that give rough indications of who joined the party when are canon, Chilchuck is the party member who’s been with the party the longest, almost since Falin and Laios founded it, despite thinking of Laios as “the party leader comma I GUESS”. He keeps trying to beat lessons about leading parties into Laios’ head despite many ppl around him considering him a lost cause. As I’ve said in other posts…. He could probably just fucking walk out at any time and either retire or get a different party, and we know Chil has no problem hitting da bricks, but he doesn’t.

The things about themselves that make them most able to relate to each other are also the things that sometimes make them grate against each other (Chil berating Laios in the way only a guy with a major complex can and Laios pouting about it lmao. Laios continuing to be a big cute socially inept dummy anyways.) BUT THAT’S LOVE, BABEY!!!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

(I wish I could ask this in a video with GamingMagic13’s editing style, but I don’t have the energy for that.)

People say that, after Antibug, Chloé’s redeeming qualities started to show through throughout Seasons 2 and 3 because Thomas Astruc didn’t contribute to those episodes of those seasons as if he wasn’t on the writing team for every episode for those two seasons, including the ones showing Chloé’s redeeming qualities.

It’s not “Thomas left so the other writers started to make a redemption for Chloé, but then he came back and threw it all away”, it’s leaning more towards “Thomas, along with other writers, wanted to waste our time with Chloé pity parties for two seasons and trick people into feeling bad for her, which worked on plenty of reactors, and then yank the rug out from under them just for the sake of pulling a rug out from viewers” whether it’s the truth or not.

Also, do you get the feeling that, if people weren’t harassing Thomas and his family over Chloé’s “abandoned redemption”, Chloé wouldn’t have been made into evil incarnate to spite people?

Considering that the hiatus between Seasons 3 and 4 started towards the end of 2019, had to continue throughout 2020 due to the COVID pandemic with only the New York special to keep us busy in September 2020, and then finally ended shortly after 2021 started, that would have been plenty of time to rework scripts, because we know he was also on the writing team for every episode of Seasons 4 and 5 alongside 2 and 3, to made Chloé more and more unlikeable while propping up the male adults to spite Chloé fans, like several episodes of Teen Titans GO! and even this show are guilty of.

Whether all of this is true or not, I think it all lines up too well for too many other outcomes.

The "Thomas Astruc was able to completely rewrite the plans for this character and no one stopped him" take has always been a little wild to me especially since Chloe never showed meaningful improvement in canon. In fact, now that we've seen her story play out in all it's disappointing and time-wasting glory, you can even argue that Despair Bear was straight up telling you what we were in for since it's the same plot, just on a smaller scale.

As far as I know, there is no evidence for this "Chloe was rewritten" conspiracy. At the very least, no one has sent any my way on the multiple occasions when I've asked for it. Astruc is a credited writer for pretty much every episode involved in the Queen Bee arc and, while head writers have a good deal of power, they often don't have supreme power over their shows. This is especially true when it comes to kids shows since those have a lot of restrictions on what they can do. While I cannot speak French, I've been told that this class involves one of the writers talking about the multiple darker version of Chat Blanc that were rejected, leading to Chat Blanc being a season three episode instead of a season two episode like they originally planned.

These shows are products that are being sold to buyers who do have the power to reject the product and the writers work for a company. In most cases, they can be stopped!

There's also the fact that this is Astruc's career that we're talking about. You're arguing that he purposely messed with his reputation and screwed up the writing in the show that he's most well-known for in order to get back at online randos instead of just blocking them and moving on with his life. That's an insanely hard sell for me. Unintentional bad writing is a much easier explanation especially since he has nothing to gain from people disliking the Chloé stuff. This wasn't situation where Astruc needed to tank the show to get out of writing it. If Astruc left the project, then Miraculous would go on without him. While he came up with the initial idea, Zag owns the property.

Unless someone has hard evidence that Chloé was changed to spite fans, I am never going to buy into this conspiracy theory. Her bad writing is too in line with the show's other issues. Remember, this is the show that gave us Derision, everything about Lila, and Gabriel getting an 'ascends into the light with a smile' ending while his son sat the fight out and remains in the dark. Is Chloé really meaningfully worse than any of that?

I'd say no and, if you agree, then why do you think that she's so special? I've previously called her a canary in the coal mine and that's going to be my read until someone gives me evidence of something else. She was your warning sign that the writing was never going to be very good. I don't think she foretold just how bad it would get - that's why I kept watching - but her story showed that these writers were only good at short-form content and sucked at long-form content. In fact, Chloé's story is arguably better than a lot of the long-form stuff that the show gave us in season four and five. At least Chloé's story logically flowed together even if it was massively disapointing!

I also don't consider Chloé's season four and five writing downgrade to be all that telling because, once again, it's not unique to her. The class gets a similar downgrade in quality, going from "we'll help Marinette with her confession plans when she asks, but this isn't a major thing to us" to "we live for Adrienette and will make our own plans for Marinette to confess and force them on her/try to force Adrienette to kiss." It makes the entire class feels more shallow than ever.

Gabriel also gets a downgrade with his writing going more over-the-top than ever. We have things like him locking Adrien in a cell and using Adrien's amoks for no obvious reason even though Gabriel is supposed to get an ending where he dies totally at peace and ascends into the light. Totally nonsense choices just like the choice to make Marinette's inability to speak to Adrien because she's anxious into a full-out trauma response.

These are just a few of the many, many, many writing downgrades.

If you truly believe the Chloé conspiracy, then I'd strongly encourage you to watch at least the first of the videos I'm about to link and see if you notice similarities. I have all of them set to the specific, relevant timestamps in case you don't want to watch a massive video to see what I'm talking about because they all talk about more than the conspiracies that arose in these fandoms when the writing got "bad" (especially the last one. The conspiracy gets a very brief mention. I really only included it because I wanted three examples and just went with ones big enough that someone else had done research on the topic because it's not an area of fandom that I've ever waded into).

I'm linking these videos because I wanted to give you more than me just saying "this kind of thing happens all the time when media gets bad." Watching just a few minutes of each of these should give you the context you need assuming the timestamps work:

As you can hopefully see, the Chloé stuff is nothing new. So many pieces of media do something disappointing and then fans create conspiracies for why it happened, refusing to accept what is most likely to be the unfortunate truth: the writers thought they told a good story or, at the very least, they did the best they could within the confines they were working with be those confines monetary, temporal, and/or the limits of their own skills. That doesn't make the bad writing okay, you're fully valid in being upset, but there's also no need to create a conspiracy theory around it. It's probably not that deep. This shit happens all the time, especially in larger fandoms.

This is why I often give the advice of, "don't trust your mental health to stories that you have no control over." Is not that fandom isn't fun, I've just seen this shit before and I always feel bad for those who get involved with it. I've luckily never gone down the conspiracy rabbit hole, but I have gotten really upset when other fans continued to like a show that was bad, actually, and got a good deal of catharsis when most of the fandom woke up after the final was terrible. That still wasn't a good experience for me, though. It was not a healthy mindset to be waiting with baited breath for total strangers to agree with me that this random show was bad. I'm much better of bashing it with those who agree that it's bad, moving on when I'm no longer having fun, and letting those who like it be wrong (that is both a joke and real advice. Don't waste your time trying to change people's minds on something as insignificant as Miraculous. Just let them be wrong.)

[goingbuggy]

thank you, you’re the best. I will keep it short.

I wrote this to someone because I disagree with shuggy being great story in canon. But I thought longer and it turned out into more thoughts. First I do enjoy shuggy. I like them more as brothers and I like crocbug more. But I do like shuggy art sometimes.

Most of the story of shuggy is buggy being constantly angry at shanks. Every scene is just him being bitter, while shanks is chill. He’s angry because he’s not like shanks and blames himself for it. But shanks can’t help with that. It’s not abusive but you know how some DC fan are saying how joker is not harley LI but her origin story? I think it’s shuggy. Shanks is buggy begging. The have this bond but it’s over and not useful. What is left is buggy obsession which has to end. It’s without shanks reaction.

And both of those characters have more interesting and impactful relationships with other characters around them. Mostly shanks. He has people around him that are not jealous of him and are EQUAL. And buggy been replaced I think on purpose. Benn Beckman is there to be this close support that buggy could never be. Mihawk is rival, like buggy was in younger years but he’s meaningful to challenge shanks with respect and push him forward. Both of them make shanks better and fill those roles buggy couldn’t.

Buggy is just starting his bonds. He now has cross guild. And we know they’re gonna be for buggy in the future.

What do you think? I read OP many times and I think it does make sense and that is how the story will go. But you can call me out if you disagree. I respect you.

Woah, this is a long one! I just want to say, firstly, that you are entitled to your interpretations of Shanks and Buggy's relationship. However, I think you are going about this in a strange way. A bond is not measured by its usefulness, and claiming that Buggy has been "replaced" shows that you are viewing their dynamic from a distanced, almost utilitarian perspective; this isn't wrong, per se, but you are talking about characters who are meant to be people. And most people are irrational, emotional creatures who don't view their friendships as something profitable or disadvantageous. Buggy cannot be replaced by anyone, because Buggy is not a role to be filled in Shanks' life. Buggy was always just Buggy to Shanks. They were not friends because they only saw each other as useful. I think their interactions during the Wano flashback show that pretty clearly.

To address your point about Shanks and Buggy not being equals, though, I think this is a topic Oda has intentionally laid out, as it directly relates to Buggy's narrative. Buggy is someone who yearns to be seen as an equal -- just look at his reaction in Marineford when Whitebeard addresses him. (The blush is so cute, lmao.)

Buggy's insecurities are also the reason I believe he chose not to follow Shanks; my post here elaborates, but to sum it up neatly, Buggy immediately assumed he'd be working "under" Shanks, when Shanks only asked for Buggy to stay by his side. I truly think Shanks has always viewed Buggy as his equal -- it's just a matter of Buggy realizing that.

At this point in the story, they are more balanced than ever: both emperors with massive influence, albeit in different ways. As Buggy says himself, they are "on equal footing again." So, when you say their relationship has been unequal in parts, I don't disagree -- but that's not a flaw. That's intentional. It's an explicit aspect of the way their dynamic is written. It's a major source of their miscommunication.

Cross Guild is also currently a relationship in Buggy's life, but we don't exactly know where it's going. I would absolutely love it if Mihawk and Crocodile began to believe in Buggy and support him -- mostly because it would be hilarious -- but as of now, it is nowhere near a genuine bond. It is strictly business, and ironically, deeply unequal in terms of power dynamics. Buggy has only flipped the script on them recently, starting in chapter 1082, so we have to wait and see how that progresses.

At the end of the day, it's your opinion -- you can view Buggy's relationship with Shanks as uninteresting, and that's totally fine! But the lens with which you view their dynamic could use some adjusting. Your complaints stem from personal tastes, not fundamental problems with Shanks and Buggy's narrative.

[achaotichuman]

ACOTAR Fandom Rant

Trigger Warning- Discussions of sexual abuse.

I think some people forget that even if a book is in the fantasy genre, you cannot just say "it's fiction, so it doesn't matter" there still needs to be rules to the world. It cannot all be a free for all, there needs to be consistency. When you make a rule for the world, it needs to apply to everyone, your world needs to serve the story, not the other way around. Everything has to revolve around moving the plot forward, and part of this is how your society functions and treats certain experiences, including experiences like SA.

You can have books that stretch the boundaries of what is and what is not acceptable in your fantasy, but, it has to make sense within the world and you have to be consistent.

This goes for Rhysand, Nesta and Feyre. All of them were SAed by their captors of the time. Amarantha put Rhysand into a position where to avoid harm and gain even a little bit of autonomy he had to have sex with her. Rhysand put Feyre in a position where she was forced to do lewd acts for him and in front of people whilst (practically) naked, until she vomited. Cassian took advantage of Nesta being in a vulnerable position, knowing she had been using sex as a means to self-harm, to have borderline violent sex with her.

It's SA across the board, even though SJM cannot for the life of her admit that. Idk why she keeps writing about SA when she cannot at all, but she does. However, it's not right, and no one should be picking and choosing like she is within the series.

SJM is unable to create good world-building and handle these kinds of experiences with the delicacy and respect they deserve. And no one should be trying to do the same as she is, by attempting to say one character's SA was not valid when it was.

I'm not trying to comment on anyone in particular, but I wanted to comment on this idea as a whole. Because I think it does come down to people picking and choosing because of who their favourite characters are, which is fine and dandy, but the discussion is revolving around what actually happened in canon. And what happened in canon, is that Amarantha raped Rhysand for fifty years. Full-stop. There is no argument. Like there should be no argument for Feyre and for Nesta.

Amarantha had all the power over Rhysand. Like Rhysand had all the power over Feyre, and Cassian had all the power over Nesta.

In each situation, Rhysand, Feyre and Nesta had been forcibly removed from their homes, put in a place where they were locked up and emotionally and physically vulnerable, and all choice was stripped from them.

Amarantha had enslaved Rhysand. Rhysand had taken control of Feyre. Cassian was the equivalent of Nesta's prison guard.

Even though it is fiction. Fiction has the ability to explore these kinds of topics. They are very real, and have very real consequences.

Fiction can stretch boundaries, it can go well beyond what we consider morally right irl, but a good fictional writer will still implement rules and keep consistency with their writing.

There is no morality in fiction but there is a massive difference between a poorly written book and a really well-written book. And there is a difference between genuine discussion and commentary on media and invalidation of experiences, even when it comes to fictional characters, because as I mentioned above these are very very real situations and when it comes to big authors, what they write, can have a very real effect on people.

All this to say, Sarah.J.Maas is a horrible writer, she lacks any kind of consistency and cannot keep up with her own rules. But instead of picking and choosing, and invalidating one experience whilst upholding another, we can look at her writing as an example of how not to handle themes of SA when it comes to the victims in her books.

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Seventeen

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

No tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen

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Author's Note: We've got Rhaenyra POV! We've got Aemond POV! We've got a surprise in the end! Thank you for all the support and patience. You're all getting this chapter early since I'm out of town for the weekend! Enjoy!

PLEASE PLEASE subscribe to the series page or my author page so you get updates when we start the next story! You're not going to want to miss it. (And follow @emkald-fic on tumblr if you read here!)

All my love to @vampire-exgirlfriend for her love and support and holding my hand through this chapter that just kept kicking my fucking ass. If you need more Aemond content, you must read, They Say I killed You (Haunt Me Then)! Now complete! (epilogue going up soon!)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Parrying the Daggers Thrown At Us

Rhaenyra receives a letter. Aemond cannot find peace until he gets a taste of it.

Grandfather is still ill, much like we saw him last but he prefers his wheel chaired more oft than not…

Things have been tense, understandably so, but Queen Alicent has been cordial and has made sure we are comfortable and have what we need… 

Aegon and Aemond keep their distance, perhaps so they can glare all the better…

I do not know how to make amends for what happened… 

…and they say Aemond is taken by his pains at times, darkening his room as his head aches from his wound… 

I should make amends, it is right… 

What do you think I should do?...

Heleana has been the warmest… 

…we danced together at the feast and she was quite happy to do so. It is nice spending time with her…

Aegon is happy around Lady Abrogail and she laughs freely with him. He is not like how he used to be as much with her… 

I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased to see how well she is treated…

Many houses were represented at Aegon’s nameday… 

Most seemed to wonder if Aegon would have been named heir and displace you but none came to pass… 

…they will inherit Harrenhal. I can see the wisdom in it as Luke will have Driftmark one day, but I think of Joffrey and Aegitsos and my uncles who do not have lands and holds to occupy them…

I love you much, Muñus, I hope you are well and that I will see you soon…

Rhaenyra ran her fingers over her son’s careful script, her mouth twitching in fondness amidst her worry of her zēapos. His letter was long, too much for a raven’s wings and she started from the beginning once she had read it through once. Twice. Her ribs ached as if Jace had been carved out of her to go on this journey and she shook her head, trying to let the feeling flit away on the breeze. Her eldest had a temper, much as she did in her youth, much as his father had, in the ways that drew her in. Time stole away much, and her own bouts of temper had cooled with each broken toy, each yelling fight, each ‘he pulled my hair!’ and ‘He pushed me and won’t share!’

The sounds of swords clanged in the yard and her gaze flitted from her son’s letter - pages crinkled in her grasp - to the courtyard below where Daemon was testing the new recruits to the Dragonstone guard. His silver hair was twisted back from his face in braids as he preferred, something about war and mindset and always be prepared.

He called something towards Joff and Aegitsos as the knight before him panted, having been bested against her husband.

Baela had not written, that much she knew, though Jace had said that she had found a friend in Helaena after a tense standoff. Rhaenyra had found the mention of it surprising, for her little sister, in the times she’d been around her, had been a quiet thing, eyes large in her face, gaze flitting to everyone and no one.

Helaena has been the warmest…

Helaena was not yet married. The match with Aegon had never come to pass.

The invitation lay on the table before her next to the plate of lemon cake she liked for her morning meal on days such as this.

The wedding of Prince Aegon of House Targaryen and Lady Abrogail Strong of Harrenhal…

In five moons, the spectacle would be held in the Riverlands. In five moons, the realm would look upon her brother once more, peacocked and pulled out, as Daemon sneered, by Otto Hightower to show him off as a contender, to put pressure on her father to change his mind. Her father had nearly twenty years to change his mind and still, he had not. Not even in her absence, cowardly as it sometimes felt to retreat and lick her wounds, had her father’s support of the claim and her family seemed to waver. Try as the Hightowers might to scream and spread slanders that would call for bloodshed, her father still would not be swayed. It was the sense of satisfaction that she had felt when he came to her defense in that shadowed hall those years ago, the heated of curl in it that no matter what, there could be no question as to his choice.

He had chosen her.

Even as the feeling waned over time to give over to those moments where she doubted, all the times he had failed to reign his wife in with her abuses and vitriol, the words her son had sent her bolstered her.

I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased…

Harwin’s little sister, big blue eyes and red curls bound in braids, peeking curiously over the edge of Lucerys’ cradle next to Jace because ‘She asked if she could see the baby and give him this,’ Harwin had said, as the little girl presented her attempts at embroidering a little dragon on a pillow. Little Abrogail, half Harwin’s, half Alicent’s. She had tried to bring the girl to Dragonstone with them. Would she not be happier away from the court politics with her brother and the quiet? Lord Lyonel had given her a surprised, then hard look, and Rhaenyra had felt chastened in a way her own father had never been able to evoke within her.

“I will keep my daughter with me, and should I send her away, it will be back to her home, at Harrenhal, with her brother.”

Grief washed through her like the crashing of the waves on the rocky shore below and she felt her own jagged edges inside of her. Lyonel Strong had been the best of them, putting the realm first, always by her side at every council meeting she attended, encouraging her, even as his face grew graver with each brunette curled boy she bore.

Violet eyes swept across the parchment again. A servant in the camp had tried to attack the girl, Jace said. Crept into her tent, assuming she would have been alone. Inquiries were being made, but as far as anyone could see, the man had just been a baseborn servant - blending in like no other. Rhaenyra pursed her lips and looked down at the training yard once more, fingers drumming along the stone ledge of the terrace.

She wondered how wrapped around Lady Abrogail’s finger her half-brother might be… and how opportune this moment was.

Alicent’s eldest was marrying and taking a seat in the Riverlands. It was not the bold choice that Rhaenyra had thought would happen. Surely one of the many Lannister girls, or one of the Baratheons - a great house who would be invested in their own daughter becoming queen would have made more sense.

Harrenhal, for the wealth and lands that it had, did not command armies the way the Stormlands did. It did not have endless coffers the way Casterly Rock boasted of. It was a moody fortress on the edge of the God’s Eye, surrounded by lush farmland and woods that were dark and deep and felt that you were somewhere fanciful, somewhere that didn’t hold dragons nor thrones, nothing except for a warm hand wrapped around her own.

The clashing and screaming of steel in the yard below pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts, and away from the path of her sorrows and regrets. Turning her back to the sight below, she reached for her own parchment and quill, pushing aside the letter from Lord Celtigar.

Lady Abrogail… Good tidings on news of your approaching nuptials…

Aemond pursed his lips, his gaze rising from the book before him, a study on the Conqueror’s approach to the first Dornish war,to squint across the barrel room near the top of the tower that held the library in the Holdfast. He drummed his fingers upon the scarred wooden table, a fingertip running along the crescent burn from the time Abby had accidentally knocked over a candle while they were reading about Harren the Black.

He exhaled slowly, the way the Braavosi manuals advised and looked back at his book.

It had been weeks since his brother’s festivities, and the chill of the end of the growing season had crept in. It was not cold by northern standards, but the air cooled, the rains rolled in for the next several months, and angry storms fell over them  from the Narrow Sea, their winds piercing and frightening, as if they were dragons themselves in the winds that the Storm God rode, threatening to tear apart the Red Keep brick by brick.

Helaena’s nameday had passed with quiet fanfare, the lingering lords of the realm who had not left parading their sons in front of his maiden sister. As if any of them were worthy of a dragonrider, someone as clever and kind as Helaena.

It had been complicated over the past weeks since the talk in the garden, and Aemond still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt. What had been most surprising had been the strange sense of release when his sister let him go, leaving him to sit in the rain before Visenya’s statue, her words ringing in his ears. 

‘I would burn Dorne for you… but I do not want to leave behind a world of ash and bone.’

How desperate Helaena had looked, angry and frightened and full of hope as she begged not to have a husband, but a brother back. ‘How else am I supposed to protect her?' he had wondered. How else could he offer his sister protection and security if it wasn’t to marry her, to tie her to him so that she would never have to fear, never have to doubt her acceptance and those who loved her?

Aegon had not wanted to marry her. She was weird, he’d sneered. How miserable Helaena would be, how miserable they both would have been. Aemond had done the right thing. He’d stepped up, he had gotten Mother and The Tower to break the betrothal. Even if they had not promised him and Helaena to one another, that was alright, it would simply be a matter of time.

He had Vhagar. There could be no further doubt that he was truly a Valyrian. There could be no more doubt as to his place in the world. All that was left was his sister.

Guilt gnawed deep in his stomach, shame twisting around his throat when the thought filtered through. Helaena was not a bauble he needed to collect to prove something. Collecting her was not protecting her. Collecting her was not about her, but for him, and it was this knowledge that he had thought about constantly.

His sister deserved more than being a broodmare, to be a pawn in the games. The forced distance the last few weeks had given him, after Helaena pushed him from the proverbial nest, had left him unsettled and snappish.

The loud thud of a book hitting the stone floor reverberated through the room. A heavy tome, judging from the heft of the sound, followed by a soft giggling, a deeper snickering sound chasing after it before they muffled and fell quiet.

He knew, with the utmost certainty, why it had fallen quiet.

Ever since the betrothal, the grip on his best friend had been slipping. Oh, him and Abrogail were an unlikely pair, but few appreciated books and history as his cousin did. While digging in the dirt and helping Helaena catalog her collection had been fulfilling, there was something joyous in being able to have someone who understood the quiet and sanctity of the library, and who loved books and reading and learning as he did. Lyonel Strong had always indulged his questions when was young - far more enthralling than Mellos and Orwyle were, and he had fostered that curiosity in his daughter.

‘All she’s going to care about is making babies with Aegon!’ Helaena had cried, frustrated and angry when they’d been alone after the fight in the brothel. 

There was a soft cry, and Aemond scowled at his book before his chair scraped across the stone floor and he strode purposefully towards the source of the sound. The histories of the Riverlands were there - not just observational books, but the census, the trade information, things used by the small council’s not-quite-so-small army of clerks and counters and lawmakers. The section of the library that Abby had frequented since the announcement and that he had helped her with.

“Not here,” came the whispered whine, laced with laughter. Aemond rolled his eye as he turned the corner of the aisle. It was shadowed somewhat this far down, The strategically polished silver angled to bounce the light around so as not to pose a fire risk among the precious books, although the day was gray and cloudy and the light reflected was that of a lamp. Abby was pressed against the bookshelves, the blue and silver brocade of her skirts rucked up with her stockings on display, her legs at present, wrapped around his stupid brother’s waist. One arm was stretched out to grab onto the bookshelf behind her, and the fallen book that had been in its place was still on the ground. Aegon’s face was buried into her chest, or maybe her throat? 

He was half-blind, after all, sometimes details could be mercifully missed. Or ignored.

“This,” Aemond said, his voice even and dripping with every ounce of annoyance and betrayal he felt, “is the library, not a brothel.”

Aemond’s fists clenched at the disrespect both of them displayed to a place they knew  was important to him. At the announcement of his presence, Abby squeaked, Aegon’s arms tightening around her as she scrambled to lower herself without sending them both toppling. He held his arms folded behind his back, his hand scraping along his elbow as the pair of them got themselves in order and he shook his head when Aegon looked at him, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Abby had turned to straighten her gown.

“Are you really going to act like this?” Aegon said, for it was barely a question. “We weren’t in front of you and your book. You were the one seeking us out.”

“Because you both weren’t as quiet as you thought you were,” Aemond snapped. “It was distracting.”

A lazy smirk crossed across his brother’s flushed face and he wanted to punch him square in his stupid nose. Let him kiss his future wife with his face bashed in. “Well, my lady is distracting-.” There was a soft sound as Abby smacked Aegon’s shoulder, cutting him off with an exaggerated ow, the flinch was nowhere near the violent response that inhabited his brother when it was their mother doing the hitting. She peered around Aegon’s shoulder, her mouth just as swollen, her cheeks just as flushed and her features apologetic.

“We’re sorry, Aemond. Things just got out of hand. I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t you apologize,” Aegon interrupted her this time, a fierce look on his face. 

“No, actually,” Aemond cut in, taking a step forward, using the few inches he now had on his brother to straighten his shoulders. “She’s right. Thank you, Abby, for apologizing. Are you upset that she has to apologize for you, since your self-awareness is worse than a billy goat ramming his head into things?”

Aegon’s mouth gaped in offense, his flush deepening. There was a bruise along his neck that was going to be difficult to hide. The glib nature of his eldest brother was a trial at the best of times, but this? “You know this isn’t your place to run about as you please. Shall I just unlock my doors, let you roll around in my sheets and over my personal things while you’re at it?”

“It’s the fucking library, Aemond. It doesn’t belong to you-”

Abby let out a startled cry as Aemond’s fist shot out, but as much as he would love to punch his brother, he shoved him instead, feeling the crackling of frustration, the rumble of Vhagar in his chest.  “Because it’s all yours, is that it? You mewling fucking kitten. This isn’t just my library, it’s hers too, but you don’t fucking care about anything that means something to anyone else if it gets in the way of what your limp cock wants.”

“Aemond, truly, we’re sorry - Aegon, no!” Abby’s voice was lost in Aegon’s growl as his brother came back with another shove, sending him back a few steps. Aemond laughed, a hint of a sound like the thin scrape of wind whistling through a crack. Yes, yes let the idiot push him around. Let him continue to pull his friend away from him, from him and Helaena both. His gaze darted briefly to the redhead, blue eyes wide as she pressed herself back against the shelves, before meeting his brother’s lighter gaze.

“You are a glib fucking fool, Aegon,” Aemond said lowly, his mouth curling as he readied for a fight, needing to expend the burn of flame inside of him. “I don’t care what the pair of you do, I’ll say nothing should Mother hear of it, but-” he stepped forward and shoved Aegon hard into the bookstack. The ancient wood creaked and groaned, but the stacks were bolted to the floor to prevent them from topping. A few books fell from the force of Aegon’s frame smacking into it. “Stay the hell out of my library.”

He did not look over his shoulder, even as Abby called his name, apology rife in her tone. He strode through the halls, calling for his horse to be saddled while he went to angrily pull on his riding leathers. The left side of his temple ached as it was wont to do when his face was full of tension. Helaena would make him tea, protect him in the quiet, but that was not meant to be today. The last he saw, his sister was in the gardens with Jacaerys. 

How he ached to wring the stupid bastard’s neck.

How bright he seemed to make Helaena laugh.

How betrayed Aemond felt by it all.

Why hadn’t Helaena said anything? Why hadn’t she told him that she didn’t want to be married? Why had she just let him wander around like a puppy and now left the fool?

‘But hadn’t she told you?’ a little voice drifted through Aemond’s mind and he paused in the lacing of his leathers. Had she not told him by pursuing that fool Warren Fossoway, and the time that he had spied her kissing him - for he had seen Helaena push the squire behind the carved dragon pillar by the gardens. 

‘But she would let me kiss her, she would kiss me, and she’d touch me and I her and-’ The flurry of thoughts ached as he pulled on his boots.

It would not hurt as much if it was anyone but Jacaerys.

The ride to the beach beneath the shadow of the Red Keep was a blur. The rock outcropping of Aegon’s High Hill was a craggy, sheer thing, but the beach below was one that Vhagar enjoyed sunning herself, a guard dog laying at the foot of the bed in a way. Her head lifted as Aemond approached, lowing in greeting and shaking sand from her scales. The tension in Aemond’s chest began to ease at the sight of her, and he approached, patting a gloved hand along her scarred neck, scratching along a vicious scar she must have received in Dorne. There were no words exchanged, not the way Aegon chattered with Sunfyre. Aemond’s bond with Vhagar was one of feeling, of such deep understanding that no words needed to spill from him. In no time, he scaled her great bulk and yelled out the command to fly, which his dragon responded with her own, what he assumed was excited, call in return.

Vhagar landed on the cliffs on the western side of Massey’s Hook, the bay below dotted with smaller fishing boats this far out from King’s Landing and away from the bustle of the capital. Rage and grief, anger and fear were a tempest in his gut and he rankled at the call of Moondancer as his cousin circled above them.

If Baela wanted this fight, then he would meet her, unflinching. Let her see what dragons were made of. They did not all reside on Dragonstone.

“Laodijes peldios!” Baela howled at him, her voice a sharp shout on the breeze, her face twisted and ugly with fury, fists at her side as she readied herself to hit him should he get within reach.

Aemond glared at her, the distance between them shrunk now to an arm length. Vhagar was a great shadow behind him and he could feel the sulfuric heat of her breath as she exhaled buffeting at his back. Moondancer was a little ways away, shrieking fearfully and Aemond could not tell if the dragon reflected her rider’s mood, or her fear of Vhagar.

“You’re a fucking fool. Daemon Targaryen is your father, your mother a Velaryon, and you still don’t realize that a dragon cannot be stolen.”

“You had no fucking right!” Baela snarled. “Vhagar was for Rhaena to claim-”

“If Vhagar had not wanted me, she would have eaten me and you damn well know it.” Aemond cut her off, watching her jaw click shut with a curl of satisfaction. “Vhagar chose me, not your sister. What? You want to kill me to give her another chance at claiming her? Is that what you’re here? To finish the job that you all started?”

“Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?” Balea cried, and this time, there was a choked quality to her rage. Aemond’s eye widened slightly and he leaned back from her, a curl of uncertainty that he despised. His words had been harsh, full of the anger that he had felt simmering these past years. Aemond shrugged it off. He had earned his harshness in this. He’d been the one attacked, the band of them setting upon him simply because he chose to claim his right as a Valyrian prince.

‘Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?’

Aemond ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned back on his foot, watching Baela gasp for air amidst her choking sobs, and turn from him to look out to the bay, towards Driftmark and High Tide.

He remembered his mother’s cries, her rage, her such careful and elegant control snapping as her voice cracked in the silence of the Hall of Nine.

“He’s your son, Viserys.”

“Why did Moondancer choose you?” Aemond asked. “Why did Moondancer choose you, and my egg never hatched?” Baela did not look at him but he could see the way her shoulders tensed. “Why didn’t you go find the guards? Why did you come, thinking a thief had stolen a dragon and Jacaerys brought his blade? Why did they give me a pig, pretending they had found me a dragon as they both had their own? Why did they do nothing but terrorize me with that fact for our childhoods?” 

Aegon had done it too, gone in on the fun, drunk on being the eldest. It had lessened considerably in the wake of Rhaenyra leaving the capital, even if his brother sought other ways to tease him - he’d never again mentioned his lack of dragon.

Aegon had come to him in his sick bed, his curls shorn, red eyed and puffy faced, tears on his cheeks, had knelt at his bedside and vowed to him. 

“We protect our own and I did not protect you. I do not care if you’ve claimed Vhagar, for I was not there for you when you needed me. It will never happen again. I will protect you. I will be by your side.”

Aemond had sometimes wondered how much of the words were his brother’s own, but he had known, with certainty, that the feelings were genuine. His brother was an idiot, and they butted heads, but his brother loved him in his own way, and for as angry as Aegon could make him, he loved him too. In his own way. 

He might admit that on his deathbed, unlike Aegon, who would only need to be in the depths of his cups and into the sad and tearful mourning edge.

“What do you know, Baela?” Aemond said, his voice even, coldness creeping along the edges. “Of fighting and scraping for everything that is owed to you?” He forcefully bit his tongue, copper exploding in his mouth as he broke skin, to keep from pressing further at the loss of her birth right to Driftmark for Rhaenyra’s folly.

“A prince has to scrape for all that is owed to him.” It was rhetorical, biting, and Aemond snorted, taking a step forward, his own gaze looking out at the water.

“You may have been an idiot child, but don’t play me for a fool.” It was impossible not to see how little Viserys thought of his second family, and he had seen it plainly on Jacaerys’ face, the surprise in witnessing it. “I’m sure your father relishes every word you send to him. His little spy.”

Baela’s lip curled in a snarl and she stalked closer. Aemond stayed where he was, watching her with a narrowed eye as Vhagar let out a low growl behind him. She did not move, did not lift her head, but her nostrils flared and Aemond felt the heat of her breath swirl around him. Baela’s eyes widened, and she paused, the indigo of them shining with tears. 

He turned his head slightly to look at Vhagar. “Ȳgha iksi,” he reassured her, feeling Vhagar’s displeasure seeping through him, her warning and the remembered rage from those years ago when she could not protect him or take away his pain. He reached for her snout, pressing his hand to the scar above her left nostril, rubbing against it. He turned his back to his cousin and brought his other hand up, feeling the anger hot as coals, hot as dragonfire in his chest. Vhagar was full of tension. He could feel it. Would she feel that way if it wasn’t him? If she was not so worried for him, would she recognize the girl behind him as the child that Laena Velaryon surely brought to her, as Aemond would have brought his own child? Had his grandfather, Baelon, brought his sons to this dragon before them?

The silence filled the air around them, the wind thick with tension. Aemond pressed his forehead to Vhagar, took strength from her, squeezed his eye shut and ignored the pain that lanced through his head and pulsed behind his scar.

The sob behind him was soft, and Moondancer’s cry was mournful.

“He’s your son, Viserys.”

“I did not mean to tarnish your mother’s memory,” Aemond finally spoke, his voice carrying as he looked, blind side towards Baela. “It was not done to hurt you, or to take something from you. It was… It was my only chance. And it’s something I don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand. I am… I am sorry about the loss of your mother. I did not have the opportunity to give you my condolences then, but I can give them to you now.”

The sound Baela made was strangled. Aemond turned to look at her. Baela was stiff beneath her red and black riding leathers, the metal rings in her hair tinkling as the wind tugged at her braids. He recalled the mourning child she had been sitting by her twin and Jace, the vicious yell she’d let out when she punched him in the nose that night, the howls and scream of pain. He felt Vhagar twitch and groan beneath his touch, another warning and he hushed her again, stroking her snout. He watched her gaze go towards Moondancer, who was crying fitfully, grounded still, her aquamarine wings more green against the lush grass of the clifftop.

“Do you want to pet her?”

Baela stared at him, the hostile lines to her face instantly slacking in surprise. “Skoro syt?” Her voice was small and wary, even as her eyes were wide with grief.

“My condolences,” Aemond repeated, and he found the words genuine. It was not Baela, nor her sister, or even his bastard nephews that rankled him. Oh, he wanted his revenge, He wanted what was due, but more of the blame lay with his eldest sister and their father. Of that, Aemond was secure in. He would gladly feed them both to Vhagar, to take an eye as payment for his mother.

His cousin shifted on her booted feet before whatever compelled her brought her forward. Aemond shifted, beckoning her to take her place by his side as he murmured words to Vhagar. Baela had taken her glove off, her slim, tanned hand reaching tentatively up before resting along the scar on Vhagar’s nostril.

They stood there for how long, Aemond was not sure, quietly beside one another as Baela grieved for the mother at the bottom of the Narrow Sea, and his own grief at what was taken from him.

“Do not mourn me, mother…”

‘But mourn the boy dead on Driftmark.’

It was not lightness or peace that settled over Aemond when he and his cousin parted later. He was not certain how much time had passed, only that after she had sobbed, they sat there in a strange, companionable silence eating hunks of bread and cheese and apple that Baela cut with a wicked blade. She did not give him thanks, she did not say anything, but Aemond took the offering of shared food as her own gesture of whatever truce was settled between them. The exchanged curt nods before parting, Baela northeast and away from the city to what Aemond assumed was High Tide and her grandmother and twin, while he circled back towards the city.

Aemond was not certain of the feeling he held except that it felt like he had scratched something out on a list, or deposited a burden that he was trying to carry with all his other, more cumbersome burdens. It was a closed door. That was enough for Aemond, and there was a part of him that wanted to march to his sisters and tell them that he had made nice, to have Abby’s warm smile proud with him, and Helaena’s little clap and promptly being the receiver of her latest mountain spider that Uncle Rodrik had brought her.

Instead, after entering the inner courtyard of the Red Keep and handing off his horse to one of the stablehands, he made his way to the gardens and to his own preferred solitude when the library - so recently desecrated - was not an option. No, Aemond needed air, he needed the statue of Visenya to look down upon him. There, where Helaena had snipped the strings and released him from the vow he had made, the goal that held him that was more about him than it truly was about her. 

Where his sister had set him free, and he loved her all the more for it.

The problem, he found, upon striding down the paved path and through the dripping ivy, was that his garden was not, in fact, as empty as he hoped. Wylla Karstark was kneeled in front of a bush of hyacinths, carefully cutting the purple blooms and placing them in a basket beside her. She was clad in a dove gray dress, the black fabric of her kirtle beneath poking out through slashes along her shoulders and puffed at her elbows. Her fox features were pinched in concentration and Aemond watched her for a moment, silent as she had clearly not heard his approach.

Wylla Karstark was an unknown. She was pretty enough, with a long nose and sharp jaw, gray eyes that flashed when she was annoyed, which was the majority of the time. She had a rather frustrating talent of being able to look down at him even as she had to arch her neck, for she was as petite as Abby was. Their joint misfortune, just like Aegon’s. She was also well read, their conversation at the feast turning from a mutual annoyance to discussing the book of poetry that he had seen her reading, which itself had turned into a rather long and in depth conversation on the Valyrian poet, Praxilla, whose work had survived by the grace of her living the life of leisure in Lys when the Doom happened. Wylla and his elder brother unknowingly shared a fondness for drinking songs penned by the scribe, although Aemond was smart enough to know he shouldn’t bring that up.

Not until he needed to.

“It is polite to speak when coming upon someone, Your Grace,” Wylla’s northern burr was arch as she focused on her task. “I would curtsy, but you can see I’m already on my knees.”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed at the turn of her words, and he was not certain if she understood how they could be taken. He decided that she didn’t, for she did not turn to look at him, seemingly unbothered. All for the best, he supposed, for Aemond did not think he could meet her gaze should she be facing him.

“Why are you cutting my flowers?”

“Your flowers, Your Grace?” Wylla laughed, a sharp, lilting sort of sound and he wondered if that’s what she sounded like when she sang. Did she sing? He had not asked her. “These flowers belong to Queen Visenya, for it is her garden, is it not?”

“It is my garden,” he pushed back, frowning at the back of her head, the mass of thick, twisted black braids kept in place with a woven, pearl hair net with wicked looking, pearl tipped hair pins to keep the heaviness of it in place. He flexed his hands, wiping them on his riding leathers as he approached. There were other flowers in her basket, like wisteria and some of the roses from the main garden. He sat, bending his one leg to rest an arm on while the other reached in.

Up close, he could see the red flush to her pale cheeks. He did not recall them looking so red when he saw her the day before, outside of the bit of sun all the girls had gotten during the sun.

Her smack was quick, the sound of flesh stinging flesh loud and he immediately pulled back with a hiss and a glare. “How dare-”

“Those aren’t for you,” Wylla said forcefully, the gray eyes of her bright in her face as she finally looked at him. “They’re for Lady Abrogail.”

Aemond had killed a man for the fox-faced woman before him without hesitation, and the knowledge of it settled in him still, generally buried over the past few weeks because he had no idea what to do about it. They’d been attacked in the night, and Wylla Karstark had shoved a knife between the man’s ribs without hesitation. So tall, Wylla Karstark seemed, so loud, filling up the spaces she was in without holding herself back, that he had so often forgotten how small she was.

Until she was there, in front of him, those gray eyes like the storm ridden ocean.

Aemond held her gaze, reaching back into the basket to pluck one of the deep purple, nearly blue anemones that she had gathered, twirling it idly between his long fingers before reaching up to tuck it behind her ear. Wylla was still beside him, her red painted mouth parted slightly, so he could see the flash of her white teeth behind it. Her cheeks deepend in their red to match the paint on her lips and Aemon hummed. 

Abby had been understandably shaken. Knowing her as long as he did, even with the smiles affixed to her face, he knew the signs as intimately as he understood Helaena’s or Aegon’s, or his own mother’s. Wylla Karstark was a mystery. She had been quiet, from what he had seen, but the wedding preparations had taken up much time with the girls, as well as her brother finally leaving the capital earlier that week.

He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking, before he met her gaze. “Are you alright?”

Her inhale was loud. It trembled and she pressed her red lips together, her throat bobbing with a swallow and looked back at the flowers but did not move to cut anymore. Aemond did not push her, but only waited.

“Yes? No? Strangely yes,” she finally whispered. “I think that’s what bothers me more.”

“That bastard came in with intent to harm,” Aemond said. “If you didn’t kill him, someone else would have. You were incredibly brave.” None knew  where he’d come from. The assailant had been clad in the same red garb as the rest of the servants. A baseborn man. Waters or Storm, Aemond couldn’t remember, much like he had no memory of the man’s face before he stared down at it, red and wheezing before he killed him.

“At least it wasn’t Aegon,” Wylla whispered, her eyes wide, drawing his attention back to her. “What would have that turned into - him sneaking in for them to slobber all over each other. Me thinking he was an attacker and-”

The snort of laughter that escaped Aemond at the idea of it all could not be held back. He bent his head, gasping for air as his shoulders shook and it was only a moment before Wylla’s own peel of laughter joined his. It had been some weeks since he’d laughed, in the wake of what happened at the hunt drying up what little humor he’d indulged in. There was an infectious quality to Wylla Karstark’s amusement that he found comforting. Aemond looked at her, her face flushed from her laughter, and he leaned in, kissing her.

The laughter abruptly stopped, her mouth soft against his, still from her clear surprise. She tasted like oranges. Abby must have indulged in the sweet and sour orange cakes they had at the feast. Wylla did not respond, but she didn’t move away either and Aemond took that as acceptance, and he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, thumb swiping softly against the apple of it. Kisses with Helaena had been different - always expected, always ready, with her initiating many of them. The one time he’d kissed Abby, when they were little and Jace had dared him to, did not count. The both of them had made faces, vowing to never do it again. 

Kissing Wylla, though? He never wanted to stop, especially not when she reached up, the clippers making a soft thump along the grass to wrap around the end of the braid slung over his shoulder. She tugged it gently and Aemond broke away, blinking and gasping. “What?” he asked. “Should I have not done that?”

“Oh, you should have,” she reassured him, breathless and red faced. She licked her lips and looked at her fingers still wound around his braid, toying with the leather tie. “I was just reminded of something someone told me once.”

He cocked his head, mouth pursed. “What was it?”

The smile that cut across Wylla’s face was amused, the scar along the top of her lip giving a mischievous bend to her small, red mouth. “It was about how dragons purr when you pull their hair.”

Whatever thought started to coalesce about her late night conversation with his sisters was pushed right out when her lips found his.

I would love to hear your thoughts! Even if it's just a keyboard smash! Reblog to spread a story around so others may find it! I would love to hear your theories! What did you love? What are you looking forward to? Happy to have you here as always <3

[Next Chapter]

[hypostatic-oath]

OVERSEER BRAINROT

(This is like. Me rambling. This is poorly explained and my grasp on the canon lore is iffy but this is just how I imagine/will write the Overseer - aka the player - in SAGAU. This perspective will likely change as I understand more of the lore, but for now, here's some crumbs.)

Overseer whose role is, more than simply observing, to keep the canon going.

Experiencing the story, and that includes collecting characters and learning of their lore, exploring the world, building our teapot, etc is our reward for playing our role - and our role is to push the story forward. It doesn't progress without us. We're not Teyvat's creator, but we are the one making each of our worlds move (we're the mover we're the shaker we're the headline maker). If we did not take action, the twins never would've been separated - they would've stayed forever in that choosing screen, held permanently in that moment. If we had not chosen to walk forward and touch the statue, the Traveler would never have gotten the Anemo elemental powers. Would've never helped Dvalin. Signora would've never taken Venti's gnosis. Rex Lapis would never have "died". Every single other major event wouldn't happen.

The player is the being that makes the Canon Events happen - not directly, but through making sure that the story progresses. (Miguel O'Hara theme plays in the background.) And this can happen at whichever speed we decide.

Now, while the fact that we are the ones making the story go by could be used to argue that the Overseer would be the one to make the passage of time, that is not quite true. The days in Teyvat do not depend on the story progression. Months can pass before those two Fatui in Mondstadt (I love them) have any new gossip to share about current events, or they can pass through five new topics in a span of days, depending on how fast the player runs through the quests. Time is not the deciding factor in these characters' fates. It doesn't matter how long it's been since Signora died - Viktor (the Fatui guy at the Cathedral) will not be stationed at his new post unless the player finishes his comission. Teppei's condition won't worsen with time, either. If we don't continue the quest, we can stand next to him for weeks in game before he passes. Thus, I propose that the Overseer is more of a god of Fate (not to mention, the god of time position is taken). To add to this, the things we use to pull for characters are called Fates. Intertwined Fates, Acquaint Fates, both circle back to the same idea. Hangouts can be seen as a sort of exploration of this power - with the ability to choose one of five or six fates for that character (if only Character Quests had that too). It is, however, one of the few times we have control over which version of the story is told. Otherwise, we are mostly the energy that moves it along.

It's not just that it's a canon event and we cannot interfere - it's that it is literally our purpose to make sure it happens, even if we don't like it. We're here to witness and progress the story - and bad things can happen in stories, regardless of what the characters in it want. So right now I am having some Villain Overseer brainrot, not because they want to be evil on purpose, but because some character decides to pull a Miles Morales and say "I'mma do my own thing" and mess up the story's flow. For someone trying to change the course of the story, the force that pushes events forward is obviously Not Good. I can see Fontaine characters seeing the Traveler's arrival as an ill omen, a sign that the prophecy will come true. They're divided, because on one hand, the Traveler has a good reputation, someone helpful, kind, a hero. But the Overseer's attention signifies that events will inevitably unfold. So Lyney invites them to be part of a show. Furina threatens to arrest the Traveler. Navia asks them out for tea. As long as they can keep the Overseer's attention on other matters, the event they dread won't happen. (I won't talk much abt Neuvillette rn becayse spoilers)

Enter eventual Arlechinno boss fight (it hasn't happened yet, but I do hope we get one) - she's the one who tries to fight the Traveler head on, to personally put a stop to it once and for all. Perhaps the Overseer has no ill will, but that doesn't matter. Not when their presence means that the clock is ticking faster and faster every day.

Now for a more lighthearted thought, Isekai'd Overseer who doesn't really have a concept of urgency. No important event will occur without them present, so they have no qualms in arriving on the day after the scheduled date, confident that as long as it is between 18:00 - 23:00 the reservation will still be placed and people will be at their seats as if it was always meant to be that way.

So the Overseer walks into a bar, with a face too fresh for someone who hasn't slept in what the people of Teyvat percieve to have been months, just coming in from the Spiral Abyss, and asks the bartender where their friends are.

"I don't know? Master Kaeya usually shows up at this hour, but the rest of your usual group is probably tending to their affairs."

"Odd. They were supposed to be here by now. We had a big dinner planned." The person in front of him, who Charles is more and more sure definitely looks somewhat off in a way he can't quite pinpoint, seems confused. "There was a reservation and everything. In Kaeya's name, I believe."

"Well, I'm sorry, but the last reservation Master Kaeya placed here was a month ago."

"Again, weird. He said he was going to place one. Oh, well. When the others get here, just let them know I'll be on one of the big tables upstairs, alright? And you can put everything on my tab."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven, hope your doing well. I was rewatching book 5 and something struck me. Crowly stills does his thing to get yuu/mc to host the NRC tribe at Ramshackle. But compare to previous chapters hes seems a little nicer, i guess? He offering renovations and upgrades ( a positive), instead of just threatening to cut yuu's food budget or something (a negative).

Where im going with this is, do you think Crowley may have felt a tiny tinge for his (in) action in book 4? Or atleast, realized he actually screwed up. He did give Yuu in case of an emergency.... and promptly ignored it (or just turned it off) when he went on break. He likely had to have heard what happened over the break...an likely saw his missed calls and put 2 and 2 together. Sure he may not feel bad enough to apologize (at least openly), but he does seem to make himself scarce early in b5. That could just be him being, well, the headmage. Maybe he's just not sure how to deal with MC or how they'd react to seeing him? So instead of threatening Yuu, he offers them something instead? Idk, maybe im reaching. Crowley relationship with Yuu is complicated. I do like to believe he has some empathy or regret (or maybe he just has more respect for yuu by b5?) After everything up to that point

Like i said, i may be reaching here. Wanted to get your input. Sorry for the long ask. Have a good one :)

In many fandom depictions of Crowley, he often serves as Yuu's guardian who is incompetent but well-meaning. I'm also guilty of doing this, Crowley is considered my OC's father figure (even if my OC isn't a Yuu). That's how we choose to engage with the characters and the world that we love! However, I don't believe that Crowley has that sort of tenderness for Yuu in canon, whether at the start or as their relationship develops over the course of the main story. Now, that's not to say that I think Crowley is cold or hateful towards Yuu. Far from it! He does care for them, but in the same way that a teacher might care about nurturing their students and preparing them for the world beyond graduation. Crowley demonstrates a similar attitude towards other NRC students, with one very clear example being in his Raven Jacket vignettes. In those stories, he likens his students to apple trees that he raises and nurtures, hoping that one day they might bear fruit. He does not particularly grant Yuu special treatment unless it's a scenario where he wants them to do a favor for him. (Though here I would also argue he does the same for other students when he wants them to resolve an issue in his place, which happens frequently in event stories; in Fairy Gala, he warns the boys they'll be held back if classes cannot proceed due to the wacky weather. In Ghost Marriage, Crowley shames the boys for not expressing interest in rescuing Idia, etc.)

I also want to set the record straight regarding how exactly Crowley gets Yuu to comply with his requests. Reviewing all avaliable books in the main story, Crowley rarely outright threatens Yuu if they refuse to help him:

Prologue — Crowley does not initially ask anything of Yuu, but he does provide them a temporary home and food until they can sort something out. During Yuu's stay, they are meant to do handiwork to earn their keep. However, Crowley tries to expel them after their involvement in breaking what is considered a precious chandelier. In this case, his anger is somewhat justified but it's still the one major example of Crowley leveraging something to force Yuu to act in a way that he desires. The thing is, it's revealed in chapter 19 that Crowley did not believe Yuu could acquire the magestone he asked for and was all set to finalize the expulsion papers. So really, he wasn't serious at all in giving Yuu a chance to redeem themselves and was going to expel Yuu anyway (until they happened to prove their "usefulness"). Whether this counts as an example of Crowley "threatening" Yuu, then, is up to individual interpretation.

Book 1 — Crowley makes no specific request to Yuu. He shows up late in the book and suggests to the frustrated Adeuce that they fight Riddle to claim his seat as dorm leader, but does not tell Yuu to do anything in this situation. Recall that it was Ace that marched up to Ramshackle's front door and demanded that he be allowed to stay overnight; Crowley had no part in that.

Book 2 — In 2-7, Crowley asks Yuu to investigate the strange string of accidents that has befallen the students set to play in the upcoming inter-dorm magift/spelldrive tournament. There is a part where Crowley says he "never promised to cover living expenses". You, as Yuu, have the option to ask him "Is that a threat...?" to which Crowley never properly responds. Interpret that how you wish. He then offers Grim and Yuu a chance to participate in said tournament if they succeed, seeing as they lacked the 7 players needed to form a team. Crowley even says he will find 5 other players to fill in their missing team seats for them.

Book 3 — Here in 3-6, Crowley never actually threatens to cut off food. Instead, he is trying to earn pity from Yuu by guilt tripping them and emphasizing that he, the headmaster, is so busy with his tasks (like finding Yuu a way home) and will provide them with the funds they need regardless because he is so very kind. He's trying to tug at their heartstrings by pointing out the things he selflessly does for them, so they feel obligated to do something for him in return. Once Yuu agrees to help, he lavishes them with praise and says it is "expected" of someone he personally chose.

But!! I want to add that in the Episode of Octavinelle manga, this same scene is depicted as Crowley threatening to cut their food budget. I'm not sure if this is just a different interpretation (since Yuuta seems to prepare more food than is usually implied in the game; this would explain why their food costs go up significantly) or if Crowley truly was also threatening to cut the budget in the game.

Book 4 — Crowley makes a reasonable request in 4-2; he asks Yuu and Grim to tend to the fire fairies over winter break since it's a task no one else will be present to handle. In exchange, he says he will give them a banquet of tasty foods (which is not an empty promise; in 4-39, the Ramshackle Ghosts tell Yuu and Grim that the headmaster has left them with a ton of food as thanks.

Book 5 — Crowley appears in 5-21 asking that Yuu allow the NRC Tribe to stay at Ramshackle for their month-long training camp. He explains that Vil and Rook are willing to give up their share of the prize money if Yuu agrees to these terms. It is then that Crowley adds that he will help with renovation too, most likely to sweeten the deal with his word.

Book 6 — Crowley does not ask anything of Yuu. He does, however, call in STYX in 6-2 because he becomes concerned about the threat that Grim poses after consuming multiple crystallized blots. After Grim is taken, Crowley instructs Yuu in 6-4 to wait until Grim has recovered and been evaluated by a third party to speak with him again.

Book 7 — Crowley makes no specific requests to Yuu.

You can see in almost all instances that Crowley uses a variety of tactics to get his students to do what he wants them to. He bribes, shames/guilts them, points out very real consequences if the problem at hand is not resolved, and, yes, occasionally makes what can be interpreted as a vague threat. Despite this, the fact remains that he was always nice, not just post-book 4 (in fact, Crowley was also nice during book 4). I don't see the circumstances as "anything before or during book 4 is him being negative and threatening to punish Yuu and anything after book 4 is him being kind and positive to Yuu". In most cases with Yuu, he is offering them something they would want. His go-to strategy isn't threats, it tends to be the promise of a reward.

I wouldn't tie any of Crowley's actions to feeling a sense of remorse or guilt on his own part. While it's true we don't really get to see inside of his head, from what we see of him... this man is utterly shameless. He's willing to resort to emotional manipulation to convince literal children to solve problems that he, the powerful mage and adult, should be dealing with. What's more, he praises himself for Yuu's competence and willingness to step up. That's him placing a lot of faith in his students, and I don't think he feels any guilt in doing this. Why else would he send them into dangerous situations over and over again? He must, to some extent, believe they can already handle themselves just fine, otherwise he's creating tons of legal liabilities for himself by purposefully throwing children of tons of affluent families into the line of fire. Besides, he's a highly skilled mage himself--if any true, TRUE danger were to befall them, surely he could save the day himself. My thought is that he has sort of a "tough love" approach where he tosses his students into the fires and sees how they get out of it in one piece, but it's just presented in a "devil-may-care" way because of his lackadaisical attitude.

Regarding book 4, I personally see Crowley giving his cell phone number as just a means to provide reassurance to Grim and Yuu, since they (especially Grim) are protesting about him seemingly leaving on vacation. It's an empty gesture so he can have his getaway without much of a fuss; I totally believe that Crowley did not ever intend to answer his phone. When he returns in book 5, he's already asking another favor of Yuu, so I get the sense he isn't really bothered by what happened. I would even say that Crowley still has several major appearances in book 5, not that he has made himself scarcer. He appears to ask the favor, appears again to evaluate their performance, and then a third time at the cultural festival to speak with the headmaster of RSA. Crowley gets plenty of screen time here, much more then in books 6 and 7. If he truly felt bad or actively wanted to avoid Yuu, he could easily just tell other students (ie Vil) or even school staff (ghosts, teachers, etc.) to relay the deal for him.

Again, I want to be clear: THIS IS NOT CROWLEY BASHING. The only thing I am expressing in this post is that while I do love this bird-brained goober and think he cares for his students, I don't believe it's done in the conventional sense you're thinking of. Crowley can be selfish and callous and throw his students into danger, and that's okay! Sometimes we want to love a useless man who's trying his best, even if his best is pretty lousy/j

Whew, that was a lot of brain dumping! I hope I properly responded to all your thoughts and that you found this read semi-entertaining~

[legacygirlingreen]

Topic: Sebastian and Solomon Sallow HCs

TW: mild discussion of abuse

It’s been almost a year in the fandom and I love seeing people continue to expand on the headcanon and lore surrounding these characters. The discussion of Solomon and his abusive tendencies comes up a lot towards his nephew. Beyond just the verbal - which we get a mild glance at paired with the elements told by Sebastian - one might can infer there’s more to the story.

Some people have proposed Sebastian possibly living in that shack (I can’t remember who exactly plus please feel free to tag and I’ll add them). Discussions of how physical the abuse is have happened in many locations.

As for why I love the HC of Solomon (forcibly) cutting Sebastian’s hair stems from the importance of hair in the time the game exists. Hair was an important aspect of home making - specifically with mothers to their children and fathers teaching their sons how to groom. Lack of parental figures that care can lead to those who seek to harm - thus why it makes sense in my brain for Solomon to do this.

Hair also played an important role between lovers - with things like hair locks being gifted by both genders to the other and rising to the use of lockets to hold locks of hair in a way to always keep that person close to your heart.

Sebastian frequently is shown in cut scenes scratching the back of his neck nervously, and while some people have the nervous tick of biting their nails this often one we see for him.

Solomon forcing unwanted appearances onto his nephew truly seems within the realm of possibility in my mind, especially when you consider the time period, the fact it truly looks so uneven in the game and he stays at a baseline upset with Solomon.

On the flip side Solomon could be seeing this as a means to help with comfortability during hot summers despite not enjoying the task. As far as Victorian standards go it was a task usually reserved for the woman of the house until a certain age. We don’t get any clues on if he had children of his own and suddenly going from a bachelor auror to having to take care of your brother’s children likely wasn’t a light adjustment. His frustration at the situation at times might’ve come out towards those kids, putting stops to things he might’ve found difficult to watch his brother allow when the Sallow’s were alive.

I could speak at length about this topic of how their relationship might’ve grown more and more strained with time but I digress.

Almost one year ago I wrote a fic expressing a possible way in which Solomon might’ve pushed that boundary of abusive behavior with his nephew is in aggressively cutting his hair . This lead me down a rabbit hole of jumping back in fandom. those who have stuck around since March of 2023 for the ride with over 250k words of Sebastian content across my main fic, mini fic and one shots : thank you💚

In the spirit of this I would LOVE to hear any further ideas on this head cannon so if you have some please feel free to comment, dm or put it in my ask box! I love hearing your theories! Especially when it comes to the interesting relationship between Solomon and Sebastian.

Since then it’s been wonderful to watch this head canon grow:

@writing-intheundercroft has furthered it by suggesting that the reason it looks so terrible is sheep shears - which utterly cracks me up in ways I cannot express !

@mrsbrookemunson also wrote a one shot tackling the same concepts and you can find it here:

And if you’re interested in my work it’s here:

Anywho, this is a simple reminder that we can all share a lot of the same ideas and also expand on them in ways that bring us together as a collective and not divide. I’ve seen so much hate, accusatory behavior in the HL fandom the last few months and it’s growing tiresome. I love seeing how we can all share our thoughts and bring new and developing ideas to the same characters, creating our own lore which expands beyond the canon.

Again, I look forward to hearing others chime off on their thoughts on the matter. I know a lot of people have opinions of Solomon so please let me know 🤣

[sflow-er]

Some thoughts on the Fleabag parallel

Lately, I've been thinking about how the Fleabag parallel with Sargust actually runs deeper than the famous line, and how these deeper connections contextualise Sara and August's relationship and goodbye.

[Disclaimer: I am heavily drawing on a Fleabag analysis by Aaron Bady, because while I love the show and just rewatched it last year, I have never engaged in the fandom or tried to analyse the story in depth. I welcome any additions, corrections or sidebars in the replies/reblogs!]

So in this parallel, August is Fleabag. Sara is the Priest.

In S1 of Fleabag, the titular character is stuck in a cycle of self-destructive behaviour. As we eventually find out, she is plagued by guilt; she has betrayed her best friend and indirectly caused her death, which has left her grieving and unable to obtain closure or forgiveness. She is also in deep financial trouble, emotionally closed off, and at least partly estranged from her family, who have learned to expect the worst of her. Despite some warmer moments, both her dad and her sister choose their awful romantic partners over her. She even contemplates suicide at the end but is saved by someone with whom she shared a misery bonding moment in an earlier episode (and who also gives her an economic lifeline).

In S2, Fleabag is no longer acutely spiralling. She has turned her business around, turned non-confrontational with her family, and even quit some of the self-destructive behaviour (most notably her compulsive tendency to seek validation in sex). However, this is not true self-improvement. She has resigned herself to her family's judgment and the idea that she is utterly irredeemable and unlovable, but decided to live on regardless.

Enter the Priest, who is unlike anyone Fleabag knows. He is candid and blunt (as opposed to her family who keep up appearances), charismatic, fascinating and empathetic. He persistently chips away at her emotional walls, tries to help her, and insists that she is worthy of love. He also admits that there are things and relationships in his pre-canon past that he isn't proud of, so they have something in common there.

As this block quote from the analysis linked above demonstrates, he also has something she lacks:

What's more, a priest can offer her something that a world where everything is allowed — and where nothing can therefore be wrong — cannot. How can a person find help when therapists — as her disastrous counseling session demonstrates — can only tell you that whatever you've already decided to do is what you will do? How can they help you when that inevitability has led you to do the wrong things? What she wants, it turns out, is not to "f*** a priest" but to be told what to do. Having lost all confidence in her own judgment, her own instincts, and her own feelings — having decided that what she needs is for someone else to take over decision-making for her life — she is increasingly fascinated by this man of the cloth who seems to be exactly what she wants to be: a funny, profane train-wreck, wearing great dresses, who lives a mortified and celibate life of subjection [--] This instinct is wrong, it turns out, because it's still the instinct to give up on herself. 

Let's stop there for a moment and return to Sargust. The details and timelines differ, but tell me I'm not the only one who sees multiple levels of this parallel.

August is also in deep financial trouble, emotionally closed off, self-harming, and estranged from his family in S1. He too does something terrible to someone who trusted him. He hasn't quite resigned himself to Wilhelm's judgment yet by the time Sara first approaches him, but he does feel unlovable and irredeemable, and he is still flailing internally in the relative calm at the start of S2.

I would even go so far as to say that August too lives in a world where everything is seemingly allowed. He famously tells Wille that people like them can get away with murder, and he makes it pretty clear that elite loyalty is the only moral code he knows. Even in S3, he tells Boris it's hard to motivate himself to be good when he knows it won't be rewarded with forgiveness.

As for Sara, she too is blunt, fascinating, empathetic, and a total contradiction to the people around August. She too allows August to be vulnerable, accepts him at his worst, and tries to help him. She both reminds him of himself (especially due to similarities in their past, but also some surprising compatibilities in their present) and possesses something he lacks.

Sara has a moral compass trained on the real, non-elite world where bad actions have consequences. She urges August to do the right thing and come clean about the video, and while he doesn't actually promise to do so, he doesn't fully decide against it either (until later when the crown is dangled in front of him). In the meantime, he actually seeks validation and some semblance of redemption from her.

It's her assurance that he isn't the worst person in the world that prefaces their first sexual encounter.

You could even say this scene and all their S2 scenes leading up to it hit an emotional beat that's somewhat similar to the confession scene in Fleabag - the moment where she finally breaks down, confesses how adrift she feels, and begs the Priest to just tell her what to do. This is the step that leads to their first, very heated kiss.

One area where the storylines differ concerns August and Fleabag's expectations for the secret/forbidden relationship, but I would argue that the way their expectations are thwarted feels somewhat similar again.

Fleabag expects her infatuation with the Priest to remain purely sexual and emotionally detached, and for the Priest to reject her. This would prove yet again that she is as unlovable as she feels, and it would also take the decision out of her hands. Instead, she opens up her heart and dares to hope for him to reciprocate - which he does. They even sleep together, despite the obvious risks to his life in the church that has given him peace from the regrets in his past.

As the analysis linked above argues, it's just as significant that the risks never materialise:

[S]he fell for a priest because the idea of him seemed like the promise of sexual rejection and the annulment of her freedom; instead, he gave himself to her, accepted her choice, and allows her to turn his life upside down. Except that... he's fine. Having sex doesn't ruin his life, it turns out, just as it hasn't ruined hers. In fact, the revelation is that sex has changed nothing, which might be Waller-Bridge's most radically hopeful suggestion: after their trainwreck of a relationship, the Hot Priest goes back to the church, and she goes back to loving her family and being loved by them. No mistake you can make can change what matters; whatever you've done, it will pass.

Over the season, Fleabag has grown closer to her sister and encouraged her to leave her husband, and she's also had some bonding moments with their father. As she walks away from the camera after the "it'll pass" scene, she is holding a gold statue that represents her late mother and her familial relationships in general. The implication is that the love and acceptance she gained from her relationship with the Priest - which is not negated by him choosing his conviction and current life at the end - will carry over.

As for August, he initially expects his relationship with Sara to be a pretty simple transaction. He gets her into Manor House, she keeps his secret about the video, they seal the deal with a makeout session.

After she starts actively pursuing him in S2 at the risk of ruining her relationships to Simon and Felice, his expectations shift in a naïvely romantic direction. Being a teenager in love, he thinks they have now chosen each other and will stay together forever. He will take care of her and give her anything she wants; she will stand by him and help him be a better version of himself that he doesn't know how to be on his own. Eventually, he also projects his dream of being king and queen on her (which is a critical misconception on his part).

Between S2 and S3, he is angry with her for making the police report, but he eventually decides that he deserved it for betraying her first. This is still a pretty transactional view of relationships and an example of skewed morals, and he doesn't quite manage to dismantle those by the end of canon. He understands that he let Sara down, but he doesn't seem to have fully internalised their different perceptions of right, wrong and accountability for one's mistakes, and he still believes she will take him back in exchange for him baring the rest of his soul to her. He loves and misses her, but he is still struggling to truly see her, just as she says in the final scene.

Even so, August has already started to apply the lessons he learned from their relationship to other areas of his life. He is starting to rediscover his sensitive and vulnerable sides and show them to other people in his life, which will improve his other relationships going forward. He is also starting to question some of the harmful structures and behaviours that he has perpetrated and upheld and/or been subjected to. He still has a long way to go, but he does manage to sincerely apologise to Wilhelm at the end, which allows them to get some closure.

(If the director is to be believed, he will also apologise to Simon, although this wasn't really communicated in the show.)

To wrap this up, I want to emphasise that while both Fleabag and August primarily fall for what the Priest and Sara represent, that doesn't mean they don't also love what they know of the real person. Their feelings are real, and so is their hurt over the final rejection. Likewise, the Priest and Sara choosing themselves and their other "great loves" instead of this romance doesn't make their feelings any lesser or easier to get over. "It will pass" is not a total renouncement of the relationship. It's an acknowledgement of shared pain and reassurance of the good things - such as the ability to grow from and move past your mistakes and to give and receive love - outlasting it.

Also, the Fleabag scene doesn't end there, and with how clear the parallel is, I always figured this was implied in the YR scene as well.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Christmas on the Clock

Day 12 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Summary: Deacon gets called into work on Christmas Eve, and you (his neighbor) watch his kids until he gets back with a special Christmas gift.

Warnings: fluff, canon typical danger and action, Annie's fate is up to you (I personally imagined the story as if she hadn't recovered in season 1 but I think divorce would work too)

Word Count: 3k+ words

A/N: I cannot believe it's the end of the 12 fics already! I hope you've enjoyed them and thank you for reading!! I've tried my hand at a few new characters this month and appreciate the feedback and encouragement more than you know. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

(PS check out this post if you'd like to participate the in the unofficial after party!)

Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are Deacon’s pride and joy… and some of the cutest kids you’ve ever seen. As Christmas grows nearer, you’ve seen more of them around Deacon’s house, and they never fail to put a smile on your face. Deacon moved in next door to you a few years ago after some familial issues that you never pried about. Deacon has his kids with him most of the time, is a good dad and neighbor, and is certainly not hard to look at, so you have no complaints. Being so close puts you in the perfect position to offer to watch his kids if he ever had to leave suddenly, an occurrence which isn’t unusual in his line of work. It took some persuading, but Deacon eventually took you up on the offer, and you watch the kids occasionally and pick them up from school several times a month. Every time he comes to pick them up or you walk them home, he tries to pay you, not understanding that time in his presence and with his amazing family is the only compensation you will ever need.

As you exit your car, back from a Christmas shopping trip, you hear someone yell your name. Your smile appears when you see Lila racing across your front yard. She crashes against your torso, wrapping her arms tightly around you before tilting her head back to give you a gap-toothed smile.

“Hey, Lila,” you greet, happily returning her hug.

“Sorry about that,” Deacon apologizes as he approaches.

You shake your head at him and smile, a hand still resting on Lila’s back.

“What did you buy?” Lila asks, looking at the bags in your car.

“Just some boring Christmas stuff, nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Any toys, like trucks?” Matthew asks, appearing beside Deacon.

“Or Nerf guns?” Samuel adds.

“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to think. “I think there might be, but I can’t remember. I know I bought a turkey, and some new ornaments, some mistletoe… and, yes, I remember, I bought a few toys. But they have to be wrapped first, right?”

Deacon’s eyebrows raise at the word ‘mistletoe.' Though you notice, you keep your eyes on his kids to minimize the heat crawling up your neck at his attention.

“We should let you get back to that wrapping then. Right, kids?” Deacon interjects.

You nod at him, giving Lila one more hug before waving them off with wishes of a Merry Christmas and promising to bring them treats if you bake anything.

Looking over his shoulder, Deacon mouths, “Thank you.”

You smile, responding with a silent, “Anytime."

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon’s phone ringing tears his attention away from his Christmas dance with Lila. He groans when he sees Hondo’s name on his phone.

“Sergeant Kay,” he answers, apologizing to Lila with furrowed brows.

“I’m so sorry to do this on Christmas, I know you’re with the kids, but we need you down here. Now,” Hondo explains. “There’s a hostage situation with kids in a mall.”

Looking at his own kids, Deacon nods. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and grabs his keys. “I have to go to work for a little bit.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Matthew says, setting his homemade Christmas ornament aside.

“I know, buddy. But I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” he asks, kneeling and brushing Matthew’s hair aside.

Matthew nods, and Samuel hugs Deacon.

“What about us?” Lila inquires.

“I’m going to ask you favorite neighbor to keep you company.”

Lila perks up at the idea of you coming over to spend time with her, if only slightly. Her dad is leaving on Christmas Eve, after all, and she’s distantly aware of the fact that he may not come home for Christmas or at all. That’s a lot for a little girl to think about so close to the happiest day of the year.

“Can we finish Rudolph when you get home?” Samuel asks.

“Absolutely. We’ll make hot chocolate, and we can all sit together to finish Rudolph,” Deacon assures. “It is Christmas.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You answer the phone after the second ring, slightly breathless from hanging garland.

“Hey,” Deacon greets. “I know it’s Christmas Eve but I just got called in and-“

You cut him off and say, “I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out.

You hang up and grab the small bag you keep in your closet for times like this. After the first emergency call, you’d had to take the kids to your house while you gathered some things, unsure how long you’d be with them. Since then, you’ve narrowed it down to a few must-haves that fit in a small backpack. You’re always ready to run when Deacon calls.

Lila is standing in the doorway when you walk onto Deacon’s porch.

“Daddy has to go to work but he said he’ll be back to watch Rudolph with us,” she states.

You lock eyes with Deacon over her head and see his sadness and disappointment.

“Of course, he will,” you agree.

“Sometimes his work takes longer than he thinks. Christmas is tomorrow.”

You set your bag beside the door and kneel, eye-to-eye with Lila as you say, “But we have Christmas magic this time, right? Your dad will be home for Christmas, even if I have to go get him with my own sleigh.”

Lila smiles and grabs your hand, turning to hug Deacon before he leaves. She hears her brothers trying to pick a board game to play with you and releases both you and her dad to go help them. Deacon stops beside you, looking between you and his kids.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“It’s not a problem, Deacon. I’m always happy to do it.”

He nods and picks up his keys, but you place a hand on his bicep to stop him in the doorway.

“Be careful,” you whisper as he leaves.

He nods and smiles, his hand rising to rest over yours. “Always. Merry Christmas.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“There’s at least 50 hostages. A mall Santa, couple kids, parents, plus the few employees still there,” Hondo explains.

“I thought all stores closed early on Christmas Eve,” Street grumbles.

“Welcome to the age of greed and capitalism,” Luca states. When everyone turns to look at him, he asks, “A little too much like Buck, wasn’t it?”

Hondo shrugs and answers, “Stay liquid.”

When Black Betty reaches the side of the mall, Hondo and Deacon approach the first responders and check the thermal imaging they had captured to attempt a headcount.

“I’m getting everyone home for Christmas, but we’re breaching early,” Hondo announces.

His promise means something, even if it’s an impossible guarantee. Getting home for Christmas is the only thing on everyone’s mind.

“The hostages are gathered in the center of the mall, where Santa’s village is set up. We breach the south entry, come from the west and get our suspects down,” Hondo continues.

“Flashbang?” Luca asks.

Hondo gives an affirmative while Deacon looks at the layout.

“Hondo, I agree with approaching for the west, but I have an idea,” Deacon says.

“Let’s hear it.”

“What if we walk in the front door? It should be unlocked, they won’t expect it, and it’s far enough to the west they won’t see us or hear us.”

Hondo looks at the thermal blueprint and nods. “Change of plans. Enter west, travel east, flashbang and get our suspects on the ground before Santa can say ‘Ho, ho, ho’! Everyone clear?”

“Yes, sir!” 20 David agrees.

As they approach the main entry, the automatic doors slide open, not a sound from within audible. Hondo nods at Deacon before Street sends a tap from the back, signaling that the team is ready for entry. Deacon takes a deep breath and remembers his promise, home for Rudolph.

✯✯✯✯✯

The sun sets as you finish playing Candy Land with Lila and Matthew. Samuel has opted to be on a team with you, coloring until you ask for his help. As the night grows darker, Lila’s eyes keep going to the front door, waiting for her dad to return.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” you ask.

“We’re waiting to finish Rudolph with Dad,” Matthew answers.

“I see,” you reply with a nod. “Then what about a book? I have lots of Christmas books at my house.”

“Like what?” Samuel asks.

“Let’s see… How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Eloise at Christmastime, Frosty the Snowman, Olive the Other Reindeer.”

“Who’s Eloise?” Lila interjects.

“She’s a little girl, a lot like you actually, who spends Christmas in a grand hotel with her nanny, her turtle, her dog, and a lot of friends.”

“I like the Grinch,” Matthew adds.

“Maybe we could read both?” you offer.

The kids nod before yawning, and your heart sinks a little (but doesn’t shrink; you’re not to Grinch levels of despair just yet) as you realize Deacon won’t be home before they fall asleep. He always lets you know when he’s out of harm’s way and when he’s on the way home, but you haven’t gotten either of those texts yet. Matthew, Lila, and Samuel promise to stay where they are while you run across Deacon’s lawn and into your house, gathering the bag of gifts, a case of baking supplies, and the stack of Christmas books before returning.

“You look like Santa,” Samuel says, laughing as he points at the big bag tossed over your shoulder.

“It is Christmas,” you reply, smiling as Lila and Matthew join the laughter.

✯✯✯✯✯

No one expected the suspects to be patrolling the entrances, so when Hondo sees the first, 20 David falls back into a store to regroup.

“We’re flashbang-ing anyway, why not go early?” Luca poses.

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Hondo sighs.

“What if Street and I go around to the other side and we get ‘em from both sides?” Deacon suggests.

“That’s a better idea,” Hondo says. “Sorry, Luca. Radio when you’re in position.”

As Deacon and Street move silently through the empty, dark hallways of the mall, passing a toy store, Deacon thinks about all the presents his kids will be getting tomorrow and how they’ve never asked for more than they needed. He misses them, so he needs to stay focused and get the job done to go home to you and the kids. When he envisions getting home, it never involves you leaving to go back to your place next door. Thinking of home, you’re always there, and Deacon finally realizes why.

✯✯✯✯✯

“The end,” you finish quietly, closing the fourth finished book as the Kay children rest peacefully in their dad’s bed.

It was the only spot where they could all lie down to listen to the stories, so you hadn’t argued. Besides, Deacon could carry them to bed if he needed to. You’ve grown worried for him, checking your phone every few minutes to see if he’s provided an update. Closing the door gently behind you, you enter the kitchen and begin baking. Quiet Christmas music fills Deacon’s kitchen and living room as you arrange your gifts to the Kays beneath their tree and place cookie dough on a baking sheet. Your phone vibrates, and you practically dive for it, praying for a Christmas miracle.

✯✯✯✯✯

 Street and Luca coordinate their flashbangs so both sides of the crowd are disoriented. Screams and threats tangle with each other in the smoke, but Tan, Chris, and Deacon get the three suspects to the ground and remove their weapons quickly. Deacon sees the children in Santa’s village as he hauls the handcuffed man to his feet.

“What kind of a monster does this on Christmas Eve?” he grumbles.

“It’s just another day, man,” the criminal in his hold argues.

“No, it’s not. Especially not to them,” Deacon snaps, gesturing toward the terrified children clinging to their parents.

As he passes the man off to another officer to be transported to his home for the holidays, county jail, a small hand tugs on Deacon’s pants. He looks toward the hand, surprised to see a girl not much younger than Lila looking up at him with wide eyes.

He bends his knees, squatting in before her as he removes his helmet. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi. Thank you for saving us,” she says quietly.

“Not a problem, it’s actually my job.”

“Like a superhero?”

“Sort of like a superhero.”

“I asked for a superhero costume for Christmas.”

Deacon looks over at the young couple watching the girl and nods at them. They return it, expressing their gratitude with hands joined over their hearts.

“Well, after seeing how brave you were today, I’m sure you’ll get one.”

“Merry Christmas,” the girl says before running to her parents.

“Merry Christmas,” he calls, standing.

“Get out of here, you have your own kids to wish merry Christmases to,” Hondo demands, slapping Deacon’s shoulder.

“Thanks. Merry Christmas, guys!” he tells his team, rushing outside to get home.

If he’s lucky, he’ll make it before midnight.

✯✯✯✯✯

The phone vibration was just a random notification. You’ve made two batches of cookies, rearranged the gifts, and paced the living room twelve times since then, waiting to hear something.

“I need to calm down,” you tell yourself, returning to the kitchen to frost some cookies.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon turns into his driveway, smiling when he sees you turned all his Christmas lights on. He's unsure whether or not it was because of his children nagging you. Grabbing a gift bag from the passenger seat, Deacon exits his car and walks into his house, met by Christmas music, the smell of cookies, and the sight of you in his kitchen. He decides that you fit perfectly, even if he’s not sure where.

You’re humming along to the music playing from your phone, oblivious to his entry. A gift bag lands on the counter before a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.

You turn quickly, your eyes wide until you see the big brown eyes you’ve grown to love.

“You scared me,” you accuse quietly, setting the piping bag of icing to the side.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t look or sound very sorry, but his arms are still around you, so don't care.

“I brought you something,” he says after looking at you for a moment.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

He looks pointedly at the pile of gifts under the tree that was not there when he left.

“Most of those are for Lila, Matthew, and Samuel,” you point out.

“Well then we’ll be even,” he says, passing you the bag.

You tear your eyes away from his as you pull a small snow globe from the bag. Inside is a replica of the park down the street.

“The place we met?” you ask, your voice low.

Deacon smiles. “It’s got a lot of good memories. There’s more.”

You carefully set the snow globe aside, looking at it until you feel the card in the bag. Deacon takes the empty bag, his arms returning to hold you as you read the note. It’s more of a list of occasions and things he likes about you or is thankful for.

“What is this?” you ask.

“An opening to tell you that I’m falling in love with you,” he whispers.

“Are you sure?”

His eyes widen as his smile grows. “This isn’t a spur of the moment decision; I ordered that snow globe a few weeks ago because I finally realized and am ready to admit it. It’s time to move on, and I want to do that with you. Only if you want that, too, of course.”

You turn away from him, feeling his grip on your waist falter as you set the card down. Turning back, you lean into his arms and wrap your arms around him.

“I want to be with you every day for the rest of my life, Deacon. I’m falling in love with you,” you whisper in his ear.

You pull back to say more, but his lips meet yours, and the words die on your tongue. You can show him instead, you suppose. He kisses you, and it feels like home. Everything that Christmas is supposed to be is in Deacon’s kiss, his hold on you, how you feel like you’re home in his arms. It’s perfect, and you want it to last forever, but no good things do.

Your phone timer buzzes, and you reluctantly pull away to turn it off. As you lean back in for more, Deacon chuckles.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“The other batch of frosting is ready to be used.”

He looks over at the cookies cooling by the oven. The human shapes represent his family: he is the bigger one, Samuel and Matthew are shorter, and Lila has a built-in skirt shape.

“Where’s your cookie?” he asks.

“I might have eaten it.”

He laughs again, and you press your face against his neck.

“I needed to make sure they turned out okay,” you argue halfheartedly, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands on your back.

"That's where the mistletoe went," he muses as he looks up.

"Couldn't leave it at my empty place," you point out.

"No, that wouldn't do," he agrees playfully before kissing you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Christmas morning, as Lila, Matthew, and Samuel open their gifts with both you and their dad, they are happier than Whoville after Christmas is returned. Deacon tells you several times that you bought them too much stuff, and you disagree every time.

He leans in to give you another kiss as gratitude for his gifts. Lila sees and giggles, and you send her a quick wink, smiling as she walks to you, hugging you and thanking you for the great gifts. After all the presents have been opened, Deacon ends up at the bottom of a dogpile while Rudolph plays on the television screen. You’re tucked beside him, like part of the family, and he realizes where exactly you fit: in his house, life, and his arms.

You are the luckiest recipient of all the perfect gifts unwrapped because you got a happily ever after wrapped in an LAPD SWAT uniform.