#help I think my mother is trying to kill me via salt

[scoobydoodean]

hot take ig but… dean wanting to contain jack was not cruel or even a bad idea…

first, it was not just dean’s idea. sam agreed, and cas had basically the same idea, just using the cage instead. but for some reason everybody ignores this!! second, containing dangerous people is what they always do. sam and cas have done so to dean. the s5 finale was all about locking up a dangerous powerful being. and there are other examples! third, jack was the most powerful being in the universe and had no soul meaning no ability to discern right from wrong. he was killing people! and they’ve always seen soulless people as dangerous. dean was willing to let sam die via the process of returning his soul bc he saw that soulless sam was not sam. and sam agreed!

like. yes dean was not handling the situation well, let alone gently, so i understand why sam and cas were frustrated. but his mother had just been killed (and ftr i do think cas was being kind of insensitive about it), and jack was still killing other people. dean’s allowed to be angry. he was being outwardly meaner, but sam was agreeing with him (he said a part of him wanted jack dead!) up until the point that dean actually agreed to kill jack for chuck.

idk i just feel like people really exaggerate dean’s actions in this situation especially in comparison to what sam and cas were saying and/or doing too. so i’m just wondering what you think of all of this? do you think dean was “right” or was he overreacting? or do you think the audience is too hard on dean (as always :/) about this? could this be another version of samdela effect? cause i feel like people misremember what the others were saying/doing in order to put more on dean…

also omg i just realized how long this became, so so sorry for the long rant!! if you can respond, thank you!

*opens my coat* would you care for some memes?

I will take your hot take and flambé it. When it comes to this subject, I don't feel inclined to be patient with fandom or carefully lay anything out piece by piece. I'm sick and tired of hearing about what a betrayal it was to put Jack in the box and how mean and evil and abusive it was blah blah blah cry me a river. I was there watching when that episode aired and saw how stupid everyone was about that episode in real time and it was annoying then and it continues to be annoying that almost no one seems to bother putting a single granule of thought into this episode or what Sam and Dean were thinking or what the stakes actually were. And yeah—it was not just Dean who did that despite the samdela effect hard at work causing people to insist Dean somehow forced Sam to go along with him when that categorically did not happen.

People act like Jack was just standing there shitting rainbows and unicorns out of his ass and Dean turned around and strangled him to death for it. What happened was Soulless Jack killed Sam and Dean's mom and then went off and turned someone into a pillar of salt for being an atheist and filled someone else's body with worms to punish them for not wanting to be turned into an angel. Then he showed up at the bunker trying to make nice in the most hauntingly emotionless way possible—calling killing Mary an accident and then in his next breath saying he snapped and killed her because she threatened to reveal that the manner in which he killed Nick was scary and disturbed. In other words—he made it very clear to Mary's sons that murdering her was not actually a fucking accident at all even while he was calling it one.

Jack: I know -- I know things have been bad. A-And, if it helps, I regret it. The accident. Sam: The -- The accident? Jack: What happened to Mary. She kept talking about my soul, t-that I didn't have a soul, and she kept pushing. Dean: Oh, so she made you do it. Jack: No, it -- it was me, but I didn't want this no-soul thing to become an issue between us. I guess I snapped. Before I knew it, it was all over. Dean: "It" being the accident.

So Sam and Dean tricked him (the most powerful being in all creation) into getting in a box and he sat in there for 10 minutes. Oh no. How horrible.

A lot of the stupid fandom response to this is rooted in the babyfication of Jack that ran rampant within fandom at the time and continues in many circles. I happen to like Jack, and when I say that, I mean that I actually like him, and not the fanon adultbabydestiellovechild the fandom invented who has the emotional and mental capacity of a two year old and can't understand the difference between right and wrong. The real Jack did understand, and the real Jack would be (and was when he returned) horrified by what soulless Jack did (and for more than just how it would impact him). Jack was always an emotional person who struggled to control great power, but he had a strong moral compass and he loved people. That Jack would never have subjected someone to the twisted biblical punishments soulless Jack did for the crime of not believing in god or in him???? That Jack would have thrown Dumah into a wall in a rage for the mere suggestion he kill people over their beliefs and said, "You're hurting people". That Jack also would have wanted Sam and Dean to lock him up to protect others.

Some of the fandom problem with this also has to do the soulless lore as a whole and the constant usage of Donatello as the "soulless people can manage" poster child. Which ignores not only soulless Jack's actual behavior and how deeply dangerous his powers make him, but... pretty much every other soulless person we ever saw in the series, from soulless Sam, to numerous victims of Amara who turned into raging murderers in season 11 after she ate their souls. Hell though—the same people who insist soulless Jack was some poor little baby who just needed gentle parenting probably also think there was nothing wrong with soulless Sam despite the fact that he watched his brother be assaulted multiple times and seemed to actively enjoy it. Just normal Sam things, right? Donatello is the exceptional soulless person—not the rule—and it's because it isn't in his best interest to make trouble.

The idea that soulless Jack could be molded was suggested by Cas, but he also (as you pointed out) ended up inquiring about putting Jack in The Cage, instead of the Ma'lak box (and after the Ma'lak box was destroyed, so it wasn't an option anymore).

Lbr—the misogyny also jumped out in this string of episodes. Countless posts one after the other about how stupid Mary was and how it was all her fault and Jack did nothing wrong. How dare she make Jack angry. God forbid. What a stupid, frail, illogical woman. She deserved to die long before that anyway because she was a terrible mother, right? I mean it was obvious this sort of nonsense would come from the fandom in advance, given how many people had meltdowns over Dean shooting Jack in the back (something that didn't hurt Jack in the least) to get him to stop strangling a black store clerk to death in 13.23. As always, the imagined frail little fee fees of the white adult baby that fans invented must supersede other people's lives. Jack should be allowed to throw whatever tantrums he wants and kill anyone he wants during them and in response, Dean should shush him and start singing lullabies and carry him to a rocking chair to nurse.

[sinfulwrites]

S/O who can't cook

My mother just served steak tonight and told me she used a half cup of salt for the seasoning.

She inspired this and is also banned from ever touching salt again.

This is just in good fun, cause some of us fuck up a dish now and then. No shame in it. But if any of you put half a cup of salt in like my mother I'm judging, sorry, that's a war crime.

also Asa is finally making his debut, in a joke post, very fitting for this blog.

Jason Voorhees

Now, Jason isn't a picky eater. He's survived off wild animals alone, he didn't have anything like salt and pepper until you came along. He'll eat something, even if it doesn't taste good, because he has to eat to live. He eats because he has too, not because he enjoys it.

But he… Definitely knows what bad food tastes like. Thanks to you.

He would never tell you that it's bad, he will swallow it down and not even flinch, even though it is way over salted. He will nod his head and give a thumbs up when you ask if he likes it, because his mother raised him better than to chastise you for your cooking, especially since you didn't have to cook for him.

But, if you admit you might have over-seasoned, he is going to agree, but only since you brought it up first.

You might burn his marshmallows a little too much, but he is still going to eat them regardless. After a while, he starts to like the burnt taste a little, but he still definitely prefers when it's golden brown.

If he peeks into the kitchen and sees you adding too much powder into the bowl, he will simply swallow his pride before coming in to help you cook, though he won't mention the flour.

He's a gentleman about it.

OG Michael Myers

In a similar boat as Jason, he's not a picky eater. He's eaten raw dogs.

But he definitely knows cupcakes aren't supposed to taste like cornbread.

He won't say anything, but he's definitely going to take a pause after his first before continuing to eat.

That's his moment of, "oh, this is gross.", but again, he's not picky. At least he's getting food, it's an upgrade from raw dogs.

But if it gets to a certain point, he won't eat it. If he can't swallow the steak because it's so tough, he's just putting his fork down. If the chicken is so dry it won't go down, he's spitting it out. He can't even eat it at this point.

That's his silent, "this sucks," to you. He's not afraid to lock eyes with you as he spits out the food either, cause he wants the message to get across.

Yes, he will be sleeping on the couch tonight.

2018 Michael Myers

Michael has gotten pickier in his old age, but he still eats about anything.

But he has gotten picky. He can't eat really tough food anymore, his teeth aren't as strong as they used to be, to his dismay. His steak needs to be soft, the chicken needs to be moist, the ham can't be dry. He's not even doing it to be an ass, he just can't eat it.

But how do you mess up so badly with pancakes? They're still liquid on the plate!

Oh he's going to speak up if it's bad. You better be able to be able to take criticism, cause when you ask him if he likes it, he's going to be honest.

He would try to help you improve, but he doesn't know how to cook either.

He steals some cookbooks for you and hopes that is enough.

RZ Michael Myers

"How's it taste, Michael?" "................"

He will just eat in silence.

He's guilty of dog consumption, but the sheer amount of salt on this meat almost made his eyes water.

He will finish his plate, but very obviously doesn't like it. He will agree with you if you say it was bad, but he won't say it if you don't. His body language kind of says it all though.

Brahms Heelshire

Will spit it straight out if he doesn't like it.

"It's too salty, Y/N!"

He already hates his veggies, but they're practically black, they've been so burnt!

He is a brat, and will throw a fit about it if you make him eat it.

He will stand proudly in the corner for his punishment if it means he doesn't have to eat the food, he's that stubborn.

Bo Sinclair

"You are banned from the kitchen." He says, after clearing his plate.

He's another one who will swallow his pride and eat it, but he's definitely critiquing it.

Three strikes and you're out. He's always been the cook in the house, if you can't cook, he's got no problem taking up that position in the kitchen, especially if you keep making rubbery eggs.

Bo will offer to teach you how to cook if you ask him too. He won't tease you for it, he'll genuinely teach you.

And if you want to cook with him, you're more than welcome to help.

If you actually manage to improve your cooking skills, he will give you control of the kitchen, and praise you with each dish that gets better and better.

It's a rare moment of genuine Bo care.

Vincent Sinclair

He's not saying he prefers Bo's cooking over yours, but he's definitely encouraging you to rest if you express not wanting to cook that night.

He also cleans his plate, but he's grateful for his mask because he always grimaces when he tastes over-seasoned food. Especially if it's too much garlic.

He silently mourns every dry cake that he eats, hoping the next one will be moist, but will swallow down the dry one regardless. With a large glass of milk on his side.

"I'm telling them, man." Bo says to him one day, after a steak even you had to admit you over salted.

"Don't you dare." Vincent immediately signed back. The steak was bad, but he wasn't going to let Bo make you feel bad about it. Vincent never wanted to hurt your feelings.

But you heard. "Tell me what?"

"That your steak su-"

Vincent elbows his twin in the stomach before he can finish that sentence before coming over to help you with the dishes, signing to you to ignore his brother.

Bubba Sawyer

Y/N, he can't help you here, you got Drayton and the twins against you.

Bubba would never tell you that your cooking is bad, he would always praise you and encourage you, even if he didn't like it. Because he really doesn't want to hurt your feelings, and he knows you worked really hard on it.

His hands are tied, he can only shrug and look away in shame as Drayton scolds you.

And really, Y/N, you only need a teaspoon of chili pepper, not a quarter of the shaker…

Bubba would also teach you how to cook, and he's a great teacher, so it won't be long before Drayton stops critiquing your cooking. Too much. He's always going to have a snide comment here or there, because he's Drayton.

Bubba loves to cook with you, and even if you don't improve your cooking skills, he absolutely lets you chop some stuff for him or grab bowls for him, or another spoon if he needs it. He loves to spend time with you in the kitchen, even if he's doing all the work, he's just happy you're there.

Thomas Hewitt

Oh, Y/N… No…

Thomas is never going to let anyone say anything too harsh to you, not even his mother, he will always stick up for you. But at the same time, he will pull you aside some days and show you how to season properly.

He's very gentle in his approach, never demeaning and always praising when you improve, and rubs your back when you make a mistake here and there.

Luda Mae is the same, she will teach you if you ask. You're also free to help her by grabbing utensils when she's cooking or fetching something from the pantry for her.

If you want to stick to dish duty, no one will try to stop you.

Just please, for the love of all that is holy, add milk to your cake batter.

Asa Emory

Can only watch in awe as you dump half a cup of salt onto a steak and see no problem with it.

He's looking between you, the steak, you, and the steak again to make sure he's seeing this right.

Eventually he can only cover his mouth and watch as this steak is seasoned.

Yeah, no, you're done. Time for cooking lessons.

He is a very good teacher, though he will make you swallow every bite of your failed dishes until you start improving.

You'll start to pick up adding the correct amount of water to your pancake batter in no time.

You're not going back into that kitchen on your own ever again, he is always going to keep an eye on you as you cook from now on. Though his judgmental stares will turn into praise the more you improve.

"You made it perfect this time." "You got it to the perfect temperature." "Those were your best brownies yet." Things along those lines.

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

             It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

             “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

             “I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

             You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

             “You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

             You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

             It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

             “Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

             He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

             “Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

             Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

             “No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

             “Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

             “So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

             “I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

             “Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

             When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

             You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

             Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

             “Quit ignoring me girlie.”

             You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

             “Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

             “I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

             You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

             “Touché.” You hear back.

             “Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

             “Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

             “Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

             “Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

             You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

             The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

             You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

               “Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

             “You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

             “Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

             You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

             “You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

             “I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

             “And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

             “I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

             “I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

             “Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

             “Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

             You just nod your head.

             “Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

             You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

             “Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

             When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

             “Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

             You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

             He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

             Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

             “So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

             “I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

             “I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

             “Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

             “That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

             “Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

             “I’m sorry they what?”

             He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

             “Known for?”

             “Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

             “I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

             You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

             “That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

             “You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

             “Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

             “Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

             He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

[cassyapper]

bless you @bisexyofficial

i’ll put a cut so ppl who dont wanna see it dont have to wade through my ramblings but

jonathan joestar’s whole life was a tragedy nd im tired of pretending it’s not

tw suicide btw

i have been thinking abt this for so long and i only recently figured out how to word it so let’s go

first things first;;; he’s in a carriage accident as a child, in which his mother dies while protecting him from the brunt of impact. i have no doubt in my MIND george kinda blames jonathan for his wife’s death because of this (ill get back to why i think so in a minute). but even if george didn’t, it seems like it’s in jonathan’s nature to blame himself as well

i think that’s why he tries so hard to be the hero (for example, when he steps in to help erina even though he was no match at all for the bullies). he wants to pay it forward if you will; he thinks he’s living on borrowed time, and he doesn’t want to carry that debt longer than he must, which in this case would mean...dying for the good of someone else asap. not good!

so frankly already i think he was never in the best place mentally but he was like okay relative to how bad it would get.

but then dio ~the invader~

dio comes in with the life mission of making jonathan so miserable he kills himself so that he can have all the joestar inheritance. jonathan no doubt picked up on this, considering dio was never subtle about it lol

i think the only reason he didnt go along with it is because, especially in western christain culture at the time, suicide was seen as the easy way out/a sin/something selfish, which wasnt how jonathan wanted to go. he wanted to kill himself sure but he wanted the benefit of the doubt regarding it and he wanted it to be because he was saving someone else

my proof of this line of thinking is all very subtle but it is there and it’s all in the fact that jonathan does nothing to stop dio from tormenting HIM. when he lashes out a dio, it’s only when dio drags others into their feud, like erina and danny and later george and eventually windknights lot. but when it was just him? jonathan took it and swallowed it and did nothing in retaliation. because he though he deserved it

this lack of action is echoed in how he just takes his father’s abuse as well; george jumped on the opportunity to belittle jonathan (such as the dinner table manners bs/otherwise always comparing jonathan to dio in a way “why cant you be more like him” way) and always believed dio over jonathan when they squabbled bc, as mentioned earlier, he blames jonathan for his wife’s death and he loves having some reason to be mad at jonathan. jonathan just takes it and accepts the unfair punishments (such as when george literally STARVED HIM, A GROWING PRETEEN BOY) because again, he believes he deserves it. he believes he is inherently bad

this line of thinking would also explain why he never tries to reconnect with erina until theyre adults and erina initiates it; he doesnt want her to be targeted because of HIM again. he wont drag her back into his messes for the selfish reason of him wanting her company

so. jonathan doesnt like himself. he is perfectly fine with others using him as their emotional/physical punching bag but he will get upset if others get involved

jonathan is selfless to a fault and it really really hurts, u guys. it’s born out of love for others but also a disdain for himself and that hurts

but anyway

then george dies when jonathan is only 19 and even though george was abusive to jonathan, jonathan still mourns him because he felt like he deserved that abuse. and to add salt to the wound, george dies in jonathan’s place iirc so jonathan just feels. awful. fuck god fuck. especially bc he died cause dio got obsessed with a mask JONATHAN left where he could find. obviously it’s not jonathan’s fault for real but this man will perform mental gymnastics to make himself out to be the one to blame because it’s how he’s lived his whole life and it’s how he stomached pain his whole life. it’s easier to take things if u think u deserve them

anyway anyway then part 1 main events. zeppeli, the only real father figure in jonathan’s life, dies, also in place of jonathan. i have no doubt in my mind jonathan feels like he’s a curse onto his loved ones at this point, if he hadn’t thought so earlier; a bad luck charm. after all, the later generations of joestar gotta get it from somewhere-

anyway this death does fuel jonathan enough to kill dio rather than any notions he mightve had of just dying heroically in the fight. esp because dio was gonna continue hurting people if he wasn’t stopped. so jonathan kills him rather than falling into a self-destructive fate

we see, when jonathan weeps over dio’s “death”, that he is sad over this death. most of this is bc dio was a brother in some measure to him since dio changed tactics of how he’d swipe the joestar fortune and became a little more amicable toward jonathan for a handful of years, as well as the fact that he now had time to properly mourn zeppeli/his father now. but i feel like another death he was mourning in this instance was less dio/his father/zeppeli, and more the death of his self-blame line of thought

 killing dio, a man who had become a symbol for jonathan’s self-blame and self-disdain, was a big stepping stone in jonathan’s healing i feel like. he’s gotta work on it obviously but i think at this point, when he had the guts to kill dio while also being self-preservative, he was ready to start trying to live for himself in addition to his loved ones. he was ready to unshoulder the guilt he had felt his whole life. he was ready to heal, because erina, speedwagon, and zeppeli showed him he had something inside him that was worth loving. and he might not have gotten it then but with time...maybe he would

he finally starts piecing a life together, a real life. he marries erina, he’s besties with speedwagon, he gets a new home, it’s good, it’s good, he is starting to become happy in life and happy he’s alive for the first time since he can remember

but then it turns out dio is not actually dead and he infiltrated jonathan’s honeymoon ship specifically because it was jonathan’s and he kills almost everyone on board while he’s there. erina is in danger again. a child is in danger. and much like dio was never actually dead, neither was his tendency to shoulder blame and self-disdain

basically, as a result of this jarring situation on a day that was supposed to be one of the happiest of his life, jonathan is thrown back to his 12 year old mindset; it was fine if it was just him. he can die heroically via fighting someone as vile as dio (which in my opinion is why dio even got the jump on him via the laser eyes in the first place; jonathan shouldve been able to dodge that........but w/e). but he can’t let this happen to the world. he can’t let this happen to erina. he needs her to get away from him and thus, the danger

and well, we know how part one ends. jonathan gets his wish. he dies alone with the person he hates most, having relapsed all the healing he had done. he dies a heroic death rather than a “shameful” one of suicide. he dies blaming himself for this mess, just how he had lived most of his life

jonathan is a tragedy. he is shouldered blame unfairly given to him from his father, dio, and he himself his whole fucking life. when he finally, finally has the chance to start healing and making peace with himself, dio kills him, and in addition to that, jonathan’s last acts are the results of a mental rebound from a healthier mindset to a unhealthy one, that culminates in his death. he is alone with the person who is representative of all that made his life shit when he dies

and dawg...it hurts so bad. fucking jonathan joestar

anyway this is why comments abt how nice he is make me so sad sumtimes, especially when it’s re how forgiving/”gentlemanly” he is. it’s bc he felt he deserved that hurt in the first place so of course he wouldn’t hold it against them. he’s kinda shocked someone would feel guilty over it in the first place, but he’s happy to forgive because he doesnt think a slight occured because he thinks he deserved it, which we can see in speedwagon’s introduction

anyway jonathan is as much of a tragedy as the rest of the joestars i need people to acknowledge this. im in tears

[ofbloodandbullets]

So it’s recently come to my attention that not everyone in the world has actually watched The Old Guard (WHO KNEW?!) so I’m going to try and do some info dumps about the world, the general canon and Andy’s history, personality, powers etc.  This will ... probably get kinda lengthy. 

Also: MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS FOR COMICS & MOVIE.

The first thing you need to know is that for the main part, the history and the world that TOG takes place in is the exact same one as the real history of the world.  It’s set in modern day, though the plot points stretch back to 7k+ years ago.  It’s also important to note that there is a lot of historical inaccuracies and some things in canon that conflict themselves so it’s best to just take it all with a grain of salt and just go with what works best for your particular preferences etc. 

The main difference between reality and TOG is that in TOG there are a very minute like .00000000002% of the population that are immortals.  Now, it’s important to note that these people can die but they resurrect pretty close to immediately after they die no matter the amount of damage done.  Now it can take some time to fully heal or reform, depending on how extensive the trauma (being blown to bits or burned etc. will take longer to fix but there’s no amount of damage that we know of that can actually keep them dead).  

There are times when, for reasons unknown to the characters in character (or to us as readers  of the comics / viewers of the movie etc) that the immortality just stops.  There’ll just be a time that they suffer injuries that just don’t heal, and they die.  There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to this, be it age, number of times they’ve died, whatever.  Now, I have my own entirely headcanon and personal preference based theory which you can find HERE but it’s totally just a random idea that I had that I liked to explain the loss of Andy’s immortality in the movie (that doesn’t happen in the comics) and lets me say that she regains her immortality post canon so that I can nudge things back in the direction of the comics for post movie plots and so on.

Andy is, as far as we know, and as far as she knows, the oldest (human) immortal, coming in at around 7,000 years old.  She was born into a tribe, the Scythia (hence what she’s generally called: Andromache the Scythian).  A nomadic warrior tribe that I headcanon to be a matriarchy, Andy was betrayed by the ‘queen mother’ when she was sixteen and killed in battle because the leader feared that Andy posed a danger to her continuing rule.  This person was practically a mother to Andy and it was a horrific betrayal.  What was almost as shocking to Andy was the fact that she got back up again after being literally stabbed in the back and killed.

In the vein of trying to thwart prophecies making them happen, Andy killed the matriarch and took her placce ruling the tribe, eventually becoming a God King to her people and ruling over them for hundreds of years until her loneliness absolutely overwhelmed her and one day she just vanished.

At some point after this, she began to dream of a woman, feeling a pull towards this stranger that she couldn’t begin to explain.  After dozens, maybe hundreds of years, she managed to track down the woman in question (Noriko in the comics, Quynh in the movie) and realized that they’d been dreaming of each other.  (In the comics she meets Lykon before Quynh/Noriko, whom she had also been dreaming of).  

Now, the connection between these immortals isn’t explained in canon, and for a long time, Andy, Lykon, Noriko (and eventually Joe, Nicky, Book) thought they were the only ones but there is a scene in the second set of comics that implies that there are other ‘packs’ of immortals.  I headcanon that it’s a ‘like calls to like’ / kind of Sense8 simpatico type thing - like minded souls drawn to each other, which is why Andy and the others didn’t know about the other immortals, but again, that’s just entirely my thoughts on the matter. 

Lykon is the first to succumb to the loss of immortality, a short couple hundreds years after he and Andy find each other.   He dies on a battlefield, one that he and Quynh/Noriko and Andy fought on like a hundred/thousand before, champions for the abused etc.  Skip forward a couple hundred years again and enter Joe & Nicky, a Knight and a Muslim warrior who kill each other on the battlefield only to both wake up and spend (an unspecified amount of time) hunting and killing each other before eventually Andy & Quynh/Noriko find them.  In time, Joe & Nicky realize that they love each other.   (Important to note that Quynh/Noriko and Andy were also lovers).  In the movie, when the first major surge of witch hunts began, Quynh/Noriko and Andy go to help the women that stood accused, only to be captured and accused of witchcraft themselves.  After being hung, drowned, burned at the stake and coming back to life every time, the witch hunters settled on locking Quynh into an iron coffin and dropping her into the ocean.  (In the comics, Noriko is lost at sea during a massive storm that had thrown their ship entirely off course with Andy having no clue where they actually were at the time.) 

Joe & Nicky arrive in time to rescue Andy, but Noriko is already gone and despite spending decades tracking down every person even remotely involved in the so called ‘investigation’ into the women’s inquisition and punishment, Andy wasn’t able to find anything about where Quynh could be. 

Cue angst & depression & guilt for ages after.

The trio still steps in over the following decades, trying to help prevent the worst of atrocities, but Andy quickly begins to spiral into an, at best apathetic, at worst, entirely distant and withdrawn mindset and steadily begins to lose hope that they’re actually making any difference at all.

Skip ahead a century or two and enter Book; a Russian conscript who had been forced into the fight after being convicted of forgery.  Hung for desertion, Book spend days dying over and over again as he hung there, unable to attempt an escape until the troops finally packed up and moved on.   He and Andy, Nicky and Joe meet up and Book kinda reluctantly joins their little group.  It’s revealed that Book dreams, still, of Noriko/Quynh and while he can’t tell where hse is, dreams of her still dying, drowning on the floor of the ocean over and over and over like she had been for the last hundred or two years.  

Book returns at some point to his mortal family which ended in disaster when his last remaining son was dying of cancer, cursing and screaming at Book for ‘choosing not to save him’ by making him immortal too, even though it’s something Book had no ability to transfer or make happen.  Between his nightmares, losing his son and a number of other factors, Book decides he wants to end it all but no matter what he tries, doesn’t die and stay dead.

Eventually he’s approached by a pharmaceutical company that has figured out what he is and wants to run tests on him to see if they can unlock his healing / immortality for other people.  Merrick’s company works in league with an ex CIA agent whose wife died of a horrific terminal disease who hopes that they can find a way to keep anyone else from dying if they don’t have to.    Initially it was just supposed to be him, but he’d set up a display to stream for proof of what he was / they were and the corp decided they wanted all of the immortals.   Book ends up betraying the team, and he and the others end up locked up and tested on / killed / experimented on etc.  

There’s another character introduced in the meantime, the first new immortals in centuries, an American soldier named Niles.  There’s a lot more that goes on here, but the main point is that in the movie, Andy stops healing from her wounds shortly after she tracks down Nile and is put into incredible amounts of danger when Merrick (the leader of the pharmaceutical company) captures Andy, Joe, Book, Nicky.  Book is devastated, Nicky and Joe are furious, Andy’s just tired.

Eventually, Andy and the others break free with Niles’ help, destroy the lab they were originally held in etc and set out to try and hunt down any other proof, lab results, anything that Merrick got his hands on during the tests.

The group meets and settles on a hundred year exile for Booker (which I think is one of the stupidest things - like, the man’s clearly desperate and depressed and lonely and mentally unstable so by all means let’s isolate him for a fully century) and at the end of the movie we see him stumbling home to his apartment six months later to find Quynh standing in his apartment, pouring and drinking a glass of water which is a whole power move considering how many millions of times she died by drowning.

In the comics, Quynh/Noriko was driven entirely mad and to the point of wanting vengeance against Andy for abandoning her and spends a while gaslighting Andy and torturing her physically and emotionally and what not until she manages to isolate Andy from the other immortals and scoops in to ‘rescue’ Andy.  IDK what they’re going to adapt this to in the second movie, 

Again, via the link posted above, my Andy slowly begins to regain her immortality (again, IDK what they’re going to do with the next movie).  

Uhhhh yeah.  So I .. think that’s the majority of what you need to know for canon info about Andy.  THIS is also an important PSA regarding my Andy’s history & her longest lasting relationship that has nothing to do with canon at all but that is part of Andy’s bg in every verse, even if it never comes into play.

[whydamnitwhy]

So, I had previously been asked about my head canon that Aaron Minyard and Neil Josten are the same person and this just.... got away from me...... buckle up and enjoy the ride.

Listen. This is a lot of head canon but where I can site the canon I will. Aaron and Neil are the same person and here’s why:

Aaron spent most of his life dealing with a neglectful mother. A mother who didn’t even give him the time of day. She didn’t beat him until Andrew was back in the picture. So he spent his formative years just, wanting her to notice him. He did drugs because it was something to do with his mother. Something to share. And that’s so few and far between with them. Tilda didn’t buy groceries let alone eat with Aaron. But drugs? They could have that together. (Granted I don’t think Tilda noticed like Aaron needed/wanted her to.)

Tilda then began to take out her aggression on Aaron when Andrew came back into the picture. Hitting him and abusing him. And though Aaron hated her in these moments— he would look back almost fondly. It’s the only time Tilda touched him— and he lapped that up like a man dying of thirst. It was awful and painful and WRONG but it was SOMETHING.

Aaron met Andrew and CRAVED. Not just for FAMILY or TOUCH but also for Freedom. Andrew was in juvie, sure. But he wasn’t abused like Aaron. He couldn’t be. Because he didn’t grow up with Tilda. Andrew had a life Aaron craved. Never wanted. Could never WANT. But craved.

This is important. Because when Aaron had found out via that phone call about Andrew, he tells Nicky that “it was the worst day of his life.” (The Raven King page 19) It’s not just because Aaron found out he had a TWIN BROTHER but that Aaron was the one left behind. He didn’t have someone to lean on. He didn’t know Andrew’s life. He just knew that he was left behind with a mother who didn’t care and that was NOT FAIR.

When he got the Fuck Off letter from Andrew it was more salt in the wound. It was more of his Family pushing him away. It was being ignored AGAIN. And that was devastating.

Luther had to convince Aaron just as much as Andrew for that first meeting. Because Aaron wasn’t gonna push. He wasn’t going to push because his mom had started to abuse him. And the drugs were enough to lessen the physical pain. But not enough for the mental anguish. Of finally being “found” but wishing you had stayed hidden. It was too complex an area of emotions for a 13 year old.

When he met Andrew it was like looking at a cracked mirror to only realize that you are the the one broken. Andrew was free of Tilda’s abuse and he had Luther who was trying to help him and so many more. People were focusing on Andrew. They SAW him and it was too much and not enough. It was everything Aaron wanted and he SAW it. He saw it in the ever mirrored reflection of Andrew. He wanted that.

So Aaron asked him. His cravings and WANTS needed to have SOMETHING needed for SOMEONE to see him.

“Aaron cut a deal with Andrew at juvie: if Andrew stuck with him until graduation, Aaron would stick with Andrew.” (The King’s Men page 70-71) 

I could delve into Andrew’s personality and perspective here but that’ll make this SO MUCH LONGER, so let’s just say, with all Andrew had been through, this is a deal he HAD to make (even while ignoring the Deal he made with Cass cause in a way, she had already broken it— this is another head canon i may talk about later lol).

And Andrew committed to Aaron. He came to live with them and, it wasn’t GOOD, but it was someone by his side. Someone who SAW Aaron, even though Andrew never looked at him. It was in the little moments of sharing a bedroom. Eating breakfast together. Watching TV. And that was SO MUCH MORE then Aaron had before.

When Andrew killed Tilda though. Aaron broke. Because there went his chances of having his mother SEE him. There went any hope of being loved by her. And it was AARON’S FAULT. Not because he thought about their deal, no it was deeper then that. Aaron CRAVED so much for SOMEONE that HE brought Andrew here. He pushed Luther to get Andrew. That broken mirror kept shattering around Aaron and he couldn’t pick up the pieces fast enough.

Aaron didn’t start hating Andrew until he was locked in that bathroom, clawing at the door, and begging to be set free. Withdrawal was painful. Being ignored was worse.

Aaron became bitter. Resentful. He had been surrounded by aggressive (both passive and otherwise) for years. Neglected and disrespected. Forgotten and pushed aside and deemed the “normal one”.

Then there was Katlyn. Katlyn touched Aaron with hands not used for trauma. With the adoration and love that Aaron had CRAVED for so long— and he still couldn’t have it. He couldn’t have it cause that mirror was still shattered and there was nothing he could do. Cause the last time he DID do something, it ended with so much loss Aaron couldn’t stand it. He was AFRAID. Afraid to want, to love, to be seen— even after all these years.

It didn’t matter how drugged his brother was— the shattered glass was still there, exposed by every expressionless glare and cracked smile. He couldn’t chance losing more.

Then: Neil Josten.

Neil Josten spent a life on the run in more ways then one. He was kept silent and still when he lived with Nathan and TRIED NOT TO BE NOTICED. He craved to be invisible. To be over looked. Because being seen meant pain. Even at a young age Neil knew that.

When his mother took him and ran, it was a mixture of emotions too strong to name for a 10 year old. Relief? Happiness? Fear? Something in between? It was the ability to become invisible with someone who he loved. Who never cut him. Who never burned him.

But, like all good things, that started to change too. If anything, the abuse from his mother was worse than Nathan’s because his mother did it out of love. Out of fear. There was no enjoyment in every raised fist. No glee with every cutting word. There was fear and panic. And those feelings laced through his veins with every needle poke and pulled thread.

Neil CRAVED to be invisible as much as Aaron CRAVED to be seen. But in the end, the result was the same. No matter how much you wish and plead and want— “you never get what you deserve.”

Neil wanted his mother’s love, not her fear; Aaron wanted his mother’s love, not her neglect.

Both of their mothers died before their cravings could be satisfied. Both their mothers died because of them. Aaron was too invisible to save Tilda. Neil wasn’t invisible enough to save Mary.

When these boys meet— it’s at the WORST possible time in both of their lives because they were still fighting those chains that were wrapped around them. And they SAW that, in a way, in one another.

Neil didn’t notice that Aaron and Andrew weren’t “getting along” because Aaron WAS easy to ignore. And Aaron saw everything about Neil because Neil WASN’T good at hiding.

They had vastly different pasts but ended with the same conclusion: you don’t get what you crave by trying to be different than what you are.

So, Neil gave up being invisible. He stayed because he had enough of trying to hide. Aaron gave up on being seen. He leaned away from his “family” because for the first time he didn’t need to be seen by THEM.

And because they finally did this, settled for the reality of who they were. They were finally able to break those chains locking them in place.

I came to this conclusion when Neil lied to Aaron about Drake. (The Raven King page 257-258) 

This seemed so underhanded and cruel, but as a fandom we agree that this tactic was the only way to get through to Aaron. It puts the mirror on him. It paints HIM as the person in the spotlight. Which is.... so disarming to Aaron.

How dare this no nothing, runaway be the first to really SEE Aaron. His rage for his brother blurred into one with Neil, until all he could see were the side glances and body movements between his brother and Neil. (Aaron knew body language just as good as Neil.)

So when THIS happened, when Aaron implemented the SAME underhanded tactic: (The King’s Men page 316-317)

It wasn’t just because Aaron wanted to deal the same blow Neil gave him, but because he understood the mentality. To threaten another person with the wrong assumption; to see how far you can push because you KNOW it’s too far. Because you KNOW that underneath it, underneath all the masks and lies, is a truth too profound to speak aloud. And so you push a lie. THEY pushed a lie on each other.

And when Aaron gave Neil that “searching” look. I think he saw that. I think they finally found that edge that they both stood at and refused to be push any farther. Because they HAD been pushed too far before but when it came to THIS; this was too much for their OWN hands to deal that fatal blow.

(And the fact that both of these snide moments are in direct relation towards their feelings towards Andrew is something I could also expound upon lol.)

When I first read AFTG I hated Aaron— and i wasn’t sure why. Upon my re-read though I realized that the reason I didn’t like him was that he was basically a complacent Neil Josten. Aaron was trying so hard to be seen through a cracked mirror that he had forgotten that it was just a reflection and not really who he was or who he wanted to be.

Neil and Aaron are similar in their cravings. They have what the other man wants. And because of that, I believe their friendship and development will be both inevitable and cathartic.

[fishmongeringstudies]

the year i turned twenty i stopped waiting for someone to save my life and started eating more vegetables

in the winter of 2018 i got a root canal done on the molar in the upper left-hand corner of my mouth. it had been on the verge of death for a while now; two years prior to that a visiting government-sponsored school dentist had taken a look at it, frowned, and then spent the next two hours wheedling all the rot out of that tiny black hole with a drill. unfortunately the solution he imposed was both extremely painful and temporary, and so two years after the initial incident i found myself once again at the dentist's (this time at a clinic; school dentists don't like to deal with the extra-gritty stuff and are not paid enough to do so). they stuck a needle in my gum, numbed three-quarters of my mouth, then drilled a hole through the center of my tooth and ripped the withering shred of nerve-tissue right out of it.

my dentist helpfully explained all of the above to me during our consultation session in the same office in which he would rip the top half of my tooth off a week later. he was a balding, smiling man whose speech did not, unlike many medical professionals i had met over the years, have an edge of condescension to it. i liked him. i would have liked him more were he not planning to essentially castrated my tooth.

several weeks later i went to another dentist who specialized in helping people in post-root canal limbo, and she stuck a shiny metal crown on what was left of my molar. we then scheduled a series of check-ups to ensure that the crown had not flown off its liege while i attacked an ice cube or something similarly bad for my teeth and mental health, which stretched on for so long that she became, more or less, my primary dental care physician. at first the check-ups were a month apart. then two. time passed. her hair grew longer and our conversations less awkward; she was beautiful and snarky and looked like she would shoot god without hesitation if he stepped into range of her gun. she wore her hair short, red tinged with gold, in a pixie-cut that fell over half of one eye. for a while i thought i was in love with her.

'do you floss?' she asked me on my second check-up.

'no,' i said.

'well.' she broke off a length of dental floss and began to wind it around her fingers. it looked like a death threat and she looked ready to kill, though her eyes were smiling. 'you should.'

for the first year after having an utterly destroyed tooth brought back from the brink of death via a grisly temporary solution that would, at best, buy me one or two decades of peace, i didn't. i didn't floss because when she did it for me in her tiny examination room my gums bled so much it took hours for me to wash the bitter taste of iron out of my mouth. blood is a nice concept and a nicer motif in writing. but it smells awful, and it's worst on the tongue. so i didn't floss my teeth, and i went through life with the kind of casual detached disinterest with which i had approached most things up until then. at my next check-up she asked once again if i had been flossing and i lied that i had. after poking and prodding around in my mouth for a few minutes and taking a scan for good measure she gave me a look and said dryly, 'you haven't been flossing at all, have you.'

disappointing your parents, your favorite high school english teacher, or even your best friend is nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment that comes from knowing your beautiful dentist asked you to do the bare minimum, and you failed to deliver. her voice was arid but we had known each other for long enough by then for me to detect a thin undercurrent of disappointment. i had done it. i had lost the support of the only person in my life who could be counted on to support me. because i paid her for her services. and she was also very funny in a quiet sarcastic way. and she was beautiful.

having had my ego wounded beyond description i resolved to floss from then on and succeeded in dragging my poor aching gums past the bleeding stage to a point where they were merely post-workout sore. then i lost interest and forgot about the white, sterile-smelling clinic that was a fifteen minutes' drive from my house and the little pack of dental floss on the bathroom counter faded into obscurity. two weeks before my next appointment in 2020, an alarm on my phone went off to inform me of the approaching day of judgment. i panicked.

'have you been flossing?' my dentist asked as i lay back in the faded green chair and she put on a pair of new gloves.

'yeah,' i said.

five minutes later, she removed her army of dentistry equipment from my mouth with a satisfied hum. 'i see that you have.' her eyes were smiling. 'your teeth look fine. i'll just clean them a little for you.'

i celebrated impressing my favorite dentistry professional in singapore by forgetting to floss for the next two months. soon after that i got on a plane to america, and then two more for good measure in case i hadn't grown sick of sitting and burning in my own skin already, and then twelve weeks of insanity ensued, the details of which we are surely all acquainted with by now. late nights, walks in the forest, afternoons spent in the sun. mismatched footsteps and strange acquaintances. an elaborate circus act staffed entirely by misguided but well-meaning teenagers. a ring of fire.

two weeks ago i bought a box of dental floss for ninety-nine cents. i think this might be what the anthropologists call 'adulthood'. i was at target with a friend and we were getting toothpaste, which we had both nearly run out of, when i saw the little flat box of dental floss hanging from a hook on the wall. my teeth weren't particularly disgusting (they haven't been, not since i learned how to brush them properly), but they weren't beautiful. it had been a while since i had been on my own mind. for the last three months, others' pain had been my main priority, and now that we had eliminated most of them from the picture, i found myself with more time in the mornings to stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how, exactly, i was doing.

how are you doing? i asked. and the answer was i felt like shit.

while i've stayed in dormitories before for extended periods of time i always got out of doing laundry by either submitting my dirty clothes to an on-campus service which disappeared them into a hole in the fabric of reality and returned them to you a day later, cleaned and folded outside your room so the first time i did laundry by myself in america, a week after arriving on campus, i felt invincible. buying an iced chai from the cafe on a thursday morning and then settling down to work on my laptop until my first class started at noon, i felt like a character in a career advisory ad, like someone who knew where they were going and how they were going to get there. standing in front of the bathroom mirror of my summer dorm, winding a strand of dental floss around my fingers, i felt like i had aged fifteen years in the span of just one, and that just this once, it was for the better.

according to my adult friends, no one ever fully feels or recognizes that they are an adult. adulthood is an ideal that all grown children strive towards the way body-builders aim for more and more muscle mass until there's nothing left of them but a pair of well-toned biceps. there are several industry-approved ways to be an adult, but there are no suggested ways to feel like one. this is part of the gaping maw of inadequacy our generation has fallen into. this afternoon i melted butter in a pan and beat two eggs, milk, salt, and garlic powder together in a bowl. pouring the egg mixture into the pan i began to scrape the edges frantically towards the center with a spatula. the whole process took no longer than two or three minutes. by the end of it my hand was shaking.

according to my adult friends you just wake up one day and start looking for ways to re-organize your pantry and that's when you realize: i'm getting old, aren't i? and i'm getting old, aren't i? twenty's just the start of what a friend recently told me her parents refer to as 'the decade of pain'. but the beginning of something is included in the timeline of its accomplishments, too, and it takes more blind faith to start something than we give ourselves credit for. i have never used a saucepan up until today. in my younger years i often boiled broccoli or cauliflower in a small pot over an electric stove. but the butter, the eggs, the smell of fat sizzling on a pan- this is new to me. this entire life is new to me.

leaving the familiar warmth of your family home, it suddenly occurs to you how fragile life is. how everything your mother has done for you until now has kept you on the path forward, and now you have been given the keys to the basement you have to remember to buy laundry detergent before you run out. it all comes together like this: the humming laundry machines, the hand towels, the fridge full of fruit and cheese. it keeps you alive.

and it's awful. our generation doesn't know what self-care is because we're too busy trying to care for a world which tries, time and again, to kick us off the carousel of life and move on without its ephemeral teenage charges. we are bad at this 'living' thing because we often forget that we are alive at all. look out the window and the world's burning. look into the kitchen, and- quiet. this past year has done nothing to improve the paintings on the wall. we've all known hopelessness. we've all known what it's like to wake up and feel nothing at all.

and yet my flatmate has a new york times cooking subscription that she says we're welcome to borrow if we want to look up a recipe for something like paella, brownies, whatever. the other day she made shrimp scampi and when she knocked on my door and said 'i made food, if you'd like some' i remember thinking living with other people was worth it if you could sit around a table and twirl pasta noodles around your fork in silence. tomorrow i think i'll go to target again and see if i can find more acai. i miss it. i miss singapore's overpriced acai places and their stupid too-high chairs.

and i am living life clumsily, but who cares? a life is a life; all you have to do is live it. the rest can come later, after the dust has settled on the windowsill.

06.09.21

[graffitibible]

can you explain how a draculoid becomes a deaculoid (if that makes sense)

sure! we do get a handy explanation for how it works in the comics’ external materials but it leaves a lot up in the air as well. i use that as my baseline though since things that are actually Fucking Explained in this canon are a rarity so i take what i can get. 

im gonna stick this beneath a cut cause fuck it got Longe

transcript of the image above:

DRACULOIDIZATION (The act of becoming a Draculoid)

Dracula is scary. Draculoids are scarier.

Draculoid masks are used when a prisoner or detainee is deemed suitable to serve as a BLI employee. A suitable candidate consists of a physically fit body with no previous ailments or damage to said body. Mental ailments, beliefs, or morals need not be taken into consideration while evaluating the candidate, since the mask will wipe all personality away. Draculoid masks can also be used to downgrade a higher-ranking BLI official, such as a S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/, if the situation is appropriate. They can be used on the living or the recently deceased that have died with minimal bodily harm.

INSTRUCTIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS:

-After assessing the candidate and determining that it is deemed suitable for BLI employment, place a Draculoid mask on its head.

*Warning. Placing a Draculoid mask on a candidate’s head will remove the soul of the candidate, wiping the body clean. You might experience a slight shock or be temporarily blinded for a moment while the life is being extracted. This is completely harmless to you and should cause no need for alarm.

*FAQ: No, we are not sure where the soul goes, nor is that any concern of yours or ours.

So in short, anyone can be turned into a drac (or “dracked” as my version of canon calls it). We see it happen in the comics once, and we get an insight into what the person who has been dracked actually sees - they envision former friends and allies as murderous, insectoid creatures, nightmares out to get them, and react accordingly. it also appears to be a pretty immediate process. the mask goes on, there’s a bright flash of light, and the candidate is now a freshly turned draculoid.

so what do we know about people who have been dracked, based on the information we see in the comics and music videos?

dracs are capable of basic cognition. they can talk, they exchange information with each other and with draculoids-to-be, and they can take orders. their personalities are fairly homogeneous however, and they seem to miss the subtleties of humor or rhetorical questions.

dracs are capable of emotion. the initial concept art describes them as flashy, arrogant, and mentions that they “love to party.” we see them emote on occasion, such as issuing cartoonish laughter when they capture the girl in the “na na na” mv.

dracs are obedient. related to point one, they follow orders and bli ordinances unquestioningly. since you don’t need to be ALIVE to be dracked, it stands to reason that being a drac doesn’t require a great deal of critical thinking. you’re meat. you follow orders. you do what’s required of you. you are, in essence, cannon fodder.

dracs are soulless. this is explicitly mentioned in both the external materials and in the comics themselves. cherri cola discusses this with the girl.

The text above: “Draculoid masks are a different story. The souls these masks take are lost. But I still have to try. There’s MORE than electricity coursing through Bat City. It’s littered with innocent souls, trapped in the city’s electricity. Souls that cannot find their way home.”

cola sends drac masks to the phoenix witch via mailboxes, the same way one would killjoys, based on the premise that anything “close to the soul” (direct quote) would help guide the soul “home” to her.

now i think a VERY important distinction to make here is that cola is incorrect. the souls the masks take aren’t lost, not fully. we see an explicit example of this when, after we learn that the girl’s mom was turned into a draculoid and we get a good look of what she looks like, we see that her soul has been returned to her by the comics’ end - she’s the draculoid that approaches the girl. i think it's reasonable to assume based on the context - the fact that the girl recalls this specific quote about there being more than electricity in the city, the fact that her mother is returned to her after being deemed soulless, the fact that bli does not know or care where the souls of dracked victims go but that they’re noted to flash brightly when they exit the body - that battery city is teeming with the souls of those who were turned into dracs. i think it’s reasonable to deduce that battery city is to an extent literally powered by lost souls. this raises a lot of questions about what exactly is in those masks, and how they manage to siphon souls straight into bat city regardless of distance.

now the girl is pretty special. she had the power to reverse that and return dracked souls to their owners. but when the girl meets the phoenix witch, we do see the witch putting drac masks (left by cola) into her shopping cart that she uses to carry souls away. this suggests to me that those souls aren’t lost permanently.

based on all that canon info we get, here is my read on how the draculoidization process works:

candidate is chosen. maybe they’re a prisoner, or maybe they’re a corpse. for the purposes of this, it doesn’t really matter. the end result is the same.

draculoid mask is put on. this zaps the soul out of the body, whether alive or dead. the witch shepherds souls to the afterlife, so they don’t necessarily move on without her interference. maybe the soul just kind of coasts around by default, but the draculoid mask siphons it into bat city where it’s used to power shit.

draculoid is now an active footsoldier. it walks it talks it shoots it does everything it’s supposed to do. all dracs come with a sort of preprogrammed understanding of what they’re supposed to do, a handy framework that defines everything for it. those things in the desert are scary insect-creatures, and they are bad. your fellow draculoids and bli are good. and so on.

draculoid operates until death. if the draculoid is killed, then the soul that its body once contained has no guaranteed route to whatever lies past that. in this universe the body is a tether, a physical construct, but it’s the mask that truly houses the soul. if the mask is gone the body is the only real imprint of that soul’s life that it still has, and once the body’s gone...well, tough fuckin titties i guess. if the draculoid isn’t killed but one seeks to reverse the process....wellllll that’s where things get trickier and you might need some potentially next-level interference if you want to actually cram a soul back into a dracked body. it’s not as simple as just taking the mask off. that poor bastard’s soul is floating out there somewhere but it’s being used to power bat city at that point and what’s left behind after you rip off that mask but a husk?

hopefully this covers what you wanted to know! i’m leaving some stuff out because /handwaves i’m still hashing some of this shit out and some of it is future fic spoilers but i tried to include as much as i could

as always this is just my read on things so take it all worth several mines of salt

[miraculouscontent]

Ask Explosion #9:

Asks answering previous posts:

Sabrina, I have one word of advice for you...

R U N

“Chat, please stop talking.”

“But that’s my thing!”

“YOU JINX EVERYTHING!!”

Ayyyyyy~

Well, it’s something, I suppose?

Answered this here.

It absolutely did. Bless you, kind and hilarious citizien. ;P

I’m torn because... on one hand, I want to give proper mythology and such for like--anything that’d be put into the show, but on the other, I liked the idea that Alix’s brother was just sort of a conspiracy who thought of stupid stuff (which is why I kept the concept for MC Jalil Kubdel).

Zoe did it really well in Scarlet Lady where Alix knew the actual mythology and started blurting it out whenever Jalil got it wrong.

New Asks:

Considering “Ikari Gozen,” I imagine Alya and Kagami don’t get along as well. I agree with basically everyone that Marinette and Kagami not getting along is bad, but Alya and Kagami not really getting along makes more sense and is more tolerable.

Since Alya is Marinette’s “““BFF”““ (supposedly), I could see her kind of being like, “You’re competing with my girl over the same guy,” and keeping Kagami at arm’s length, worried that keeping Kagami close will allow Kagami to be closer to Adrien since Adrien is an extension of their friend group (kinda, sorta, not really, but Marinette calling him a friend so technically--)

You know, Alya trying to be a good friend and help Marinette with Adrien in more subtle ways. It’s the wrong way to go about it but she’s trying.

LUKANETTE IS AMAZING IN TERMS OF PROGRESSION KDJNGJDFG, I ADORE IT. Every episode they share together, we either learn something new about them or see more details on their relationship.

I think I was already all-in before “Silencer,” but man, that episode just sealed it even more. I was like well dang, why does the love square even EXIST???

jfdngjkfdjgfdg

Incredible. Only problem is that the creator doesn’t know how to use it properly.

You mean fourteen year olds aren’t perfect human beings???? :o

(no, but really, that’s me all the time; like, she’s barely a teen!)

He’ll believe it if it’s Chat Noir who’s doing it. If Marinette ever does it though, he’ll be sure to shut it down. ;P

Ugggggh, the worst part is that I have the same exact fear that they really are going to be like yeah Ladybug you silly fool Chat Noir has been with you since the beginning!

I mean, we’re already basically getting that with the New York special; Chat was supposed to protect Paris and then didn’t tell Ladybug that he “had to” leave for New York (and the New York thing is inadvertently Marinette’s fault and parts of the fandom actually did blame her for it even though it was Chat’s choice not to say anything), then Ladybug gets upset with him when she discovers it mid-battle, which leads to Chat being distracted and Cataclysming someone (another thing that Ladybug can be “inadvertently” blamed for), then Chat gives up his miraculous so Ladybug isn’t even allowed to be angry and cue the later line of “I can’t imagine being Ladybug without... him.”

So clearly that’s saying something. Adrien doesn’t get anything close to that level and Marinette is chewed out for not asking him to stay when Nino had already asked him too.

It’s like--Marinette chooses to go after Adrien and then gets either nothing in return, or humiliated by the narrative, and then in the New York special, she decides to do nothing and everything still goes wrong while Alya yells at her for it. The “damned if she does, damned if she don’t,” on display is stunning. The girl tries to confess and it’s like, “no, not allowed, but Chat is allowed to confess.”

I still don’t understand this logic of his overarching plot but also “there’s not much of a timeline.” I think the only solid thing we’ve ever gotten was something about all the episodes in one season coming after all the episodes in a previous one, but there are still things that don’t add up? The only thing the season 3 production order will give is making sure the hero debuts work out (so no Viperion or Pegase before “Party Crasher,” for example).

It’s not really reliable. I mean, like--I’ve been experimenting with timelines for a while, and stuff like “Miraculer” baffles me. It’s basically non-canon with no value whatsoever. All it does is make “Heart Hunter” look even more confusing and treats Marinette even more horribly for not picking Chloe when she explicitly told Chloe that she wasn’t getting it back.

I’m not familiar with that one! Is it any good?

(Okay, I actually was too curious and ended up looking it up; fancy! I couldn’t have guessed that it was a webtoon! I started reading the 1st issue and before I knew it, I was on the 6th! Oops~)

Lila is totally Rashta, 100% agree. The fact that the comments have a nickname of “Trashta” for her, equivalent to Liar Rossi, says as much ;P

Because lessons that involve telling someone that they’re valid and allowed to feel a certain way don’t apply to Marinette. Isn’t it nice? :3

Not that I know of? Though I also don’t look for that kind of thing, so it’s possible that it exists and I just don’t know about it.

Even if it did exist thought, I don’t see a problem with you doing your own regardless. Good luck if you do!

No. No I do not. ;P

GREETINGS FELLOW INTJ!

And yeah, I’m not really capable of not analyzing shows. There are some small exceptions, but they’re usually not full shows in the normal sense. If there’s an ongoing plot, my mind tends to be working at all times.

In terms of Miraculous, Season 1 was harmless enough where I was bothered but pretty quiet about it, but then it just got progressively worse. It really feels like one of those things you can’t unsee when it finally hits you, y’know?

I’m glad I was able to help you get that satisfaction you need (and appreciate Lukanette, of course ;3)!

Non-Miraculous Asks:

(some heavy Puella Magi Madoka Magica salt below)

Wow, this is a really dedicated ask! Nice!

Gonna go point by point here:

1 - Yeah, the whole thing with Homura not “being able” to save everyone... kinda questionable, and I didn’t really buy the arguments they used to explain it away. I think there was this one PSP game or something with Madoka Magica where you could kind of choose what happened (like, there were bad ends where Sayaka didn’t get her soul gem back in time and her body was partially decayed; ick) and I think there’s a good end where Homura saves everyone but--yeah, not canon.

I just don’t care for twisted stories like that unless there is actually a good end on the horizon (and I mean like “Everyone Lives and is Happy” good end). Angst is just so exhausting so the second I saw Mami’s head being bitten I was just like, “Ah, okay, so we’re doing this then.”

2 - Eugh, the sexism thing. It’s so... yeah, and especially this because the whole “girls are emotional” thing, I don’t really care whether or not the show is trying to “subvert” or “explain” anything, it just feels like poor taste and I don’t like it. (I also didn’t know about that Death Note thing because I didn’t watch it, but geez.)

3 - Wow, I’ve been away from the show for so long that I forgot what Mami’s wish was; I thought it was to “not be alone” or something (or maybe not die alone?? I really don’t remember), but either way, the fact that it follows some sort of genie wish logic is just--*sigh*--they’re teenage girls, come on (plus, the “genie wish logic” is really overdone to me anyway).

4 - The other thing about Sayaka is that it’s really predictable that she’d “die so quickly.” Basically everything was pointing to her just being annihilated at some point, and being Madoka’s best friend, it was pretty inevitable that she’d go.

((semi-unrelated, but someone also asked me which character’s name was lied about before episode 3 hit and they wondered if it was Sayaka’s; it was Kyubey’s))

Yikes. Sorry you had to experience that.

Anyway, I guess I’m not experienced enough in multiple fandoms to say for sure? If I was ever in a fandom, I would just blacklist the people/stuff I didn’t like, so I didn’t get to see a tong of “bad things” going on.

+ I try really hard not to generalize fandoms into one thing.

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓝𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓐𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 “𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵𝔂” 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

Oof, uhhh, shows, huh? That’s tough.

I think the main ship from Given (Mafuyu and Ritsuka) is really adorable (you might’ve seen the amusing video of their love being mutual before), and while I would’ve said the same thing for the kinda-sorta side ship, it gets--uh... really bad during the movie/rest of the manga, I’ll just say that much.

Mafuyu and Ritsuka though, totally adorable.

Inuyasha kinda? Though Inuyasha and Kagome are definitely not the kind of romantic chemistry that I lean towards (I find “the bickering couple” to be rather exhausting). Plus, Cardcaptor Sakura did the “male tsundere” better than Inuyasha did (though the Clear Card Arc was terrible, at least it’s not canon kinda-sorta? idk it seems like a mix of the anime and manga so...).

After that there’s...

uh

...

hm.

I mean, there’s probably a couple more examples somewhere, but--yeah, I’ve got nothing. Maybe if I thought back to all the generic children shows I watched when I was little (like those old Disney live-action shows; I had no taste when I was younger), there might’ve been something that satisfied kid me but idk.

I don’t remember what post inspired this, but I have no problem answering regardless, ahaha~

My main issue is Aang’s attitude about the whole thing. I’m not saying it was right of Katara to go out and get “revenge via murder” exactly, but I also think that Zuko had the right idea with allowing her to go and face the man who killed her mother so she could get some form of closure (also note that Zuko doesn’t express any sort of opinion when Katara decides not to kill him; he just wanted her to have whatever she thought she needed to heal).

It’s also the episode where Zuko directly confronts Aang on his “violence isn’t the answer” rhetoric which then goes completely ignored as Aang lionturtles his way out of the conflict. Aang is also not confronted on his point of “forgiveness is the first step to healing” (when Katara has a right not to forgive and Aang isn’t challenged outside of Katara commenting on it) and was permitted to ride his high horse when Katara “steals” Appa like, “It's okay, because I forgive you... that give you any ideas?” which is just--

reaaaaaally "holier than thou”-esque when Aang is like, ten, and Katara is a sort of motherly figure to him. The episode even has Sokka praise Aang for how “wise” he is and I groaned through the entire thing.

Another smaller thing is that it sort of makes the air kingdom look way too “perfect” by having Aang be the “source of wisedom,” especially when it’s like “violence isn’t the answer” while all the other airbenders are dead.

[tharrb]

Digimon tamers retrospective- Episode 47

Well, it’s the moment you’ve all been dreading

Hey Jeri’s starting to respond

“Where is…leomon? Not here…”

Oh nevermind

Jeri’s scream fading out to the flashback is just…haunting man

Both the original and dubbed versions try to connect the flash back with Jeri’s mother’s death to leomons death

In the dub, Jeri’s father tells her that a part of her will always be with us. In the original, he’s talking to himself(ignoring his daughter, which is par for course) saying that her death was inevitable

“RUNNING AWAY FROM DESTINY?!”

The original also had no music during this scene, except for the sound of a heartbeat

I think the reason this scene is so disturbing is not because of the scene itself, but the context surrounding it: jeri has been forced to relive her worst memories(that have been warped into nightmarish fever dreams) by the eldritch horror for days on end

Seriously, jeri was treated so unfairly in tamer(not from a writing standpoint, but in-universe) tamers makes a point to show how the actions of adults lead to their children suffering, and nowhere is that more apparent then with jeri. The chain of events that led to this moment was caused by the actions of characters-shibumi unwittingly awakening the d-reaper, Hypnos letting the devas in, Zhuqiaomon sending the devas to steal calumon, beelzemon killing leomon, and even takato unleashing megidramon- and Jeri has been forced to carry the collective pain of that chain

The worst part is that jeri has done NOTHING WRONG. She’s a completely innocent life, and is still made to suffer because of the actions of others

Jeri just…doesn’t deserve this. Save her

Also the dream is intercut with the d-reaper growing, showing that it’s feeding off her misery…

In other words https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_rek1TzX2vw

So the tamers and their families have all decided to move into Hypnos new headquarters

Daisy has managed to rebuild the arc and give it battle equipment, while also naming it grani

(From he on out, I’ll be referring to grani with they/them pronouns)

Oh looks, it’s mr. hardass supreme katou

On a more serious note, how the hell did yamaki break the news to Jeri’s family that the persons that came back on the arc wasn’t their daughter…or even a person

“They must be devastated by her disappearance” “I don’t knows looks kinda mad to me” fortunately mr.katou isn’t the kind of douchebag to victim blame his daughter for getting kidnapped

“No you’ll hurt her” “huh” “what if Jeri’s in there, you’ll hurt her” god bless you takato, all you want is jeri to make it out of this in one piece

And he immediately goes to tell Jeri’s dad not to be mad at her

And we have Rumiko and Jeri’s step-mother talking about how hard it is to be a good mother. This is especially relevant in the formers case, seeing as how she wanted to be a good mother for jeri…she was just completely out of touch with what her daughter wants or needs

It could be argued that Jeri’s stem-mom is too passive, do to her just letting jeri take her fathers punishment despite her objections

Rika herself contemplates just how blind to Jeri’s own problems. I can’t help but wonder if she thinks she deserve Jeri’s fate more, given how she acted at the beginning. Leomon only died because he tried to save renamon

Plus that’s another thing. Not once does rikas father ever show up or even try to contact his daughter, despite her fighting a war. Assuming he’s still alive(which is what rika states) does he just…not care?

And now Jeri’s dad attempts to ram a van into the eldritch horror, attempts to fight one of its agents himself, and demands to be taken in Jeri’s place. It dosent make up for how he’s treated her in the past, but it’s still an effort

“Now I see the consequences of my actions” yes you were a shitty dad and now your daughters been assimilated by a monster, I hope you’ve learned your lesson

And now we see the freakiest agent(barring the j-reaper) paratice head. I cant be the only one who sees similarities between it and siren head right?

It can also produce cameras which i headcann is how it sees m(I also headcanon that it uses echolocation)

Paratice head seems to be repeating Jeri’s thoughts on destiny, but doesn’t seem to understand what it means(or maybe it’s still trying to fuck with the tamers)

It falters on the term father do to lacking one(outside of the skunks in Silicon Valley that created it) again, it could be repeating Jeri’s emotions to fuck with her friends

Seriously, nobody thinks of how messed up it is that the big bad as a little girls voice. The voice of one of the main protagonist that it had stolen no less

I’m surprised jeri can even stomach hearing herself speak after all of this is said and done, as instead of hearing a voice that’s distinctly hers, all she hears is that thing that nearly destroyed the world

So the d-reaper is projecting images of the battle into the kernel, possibly as a way to torment jeri further

Shibumi suggest the d-reapers want to learn more about familial ties because it’s scared of the unknown, but I think it’s just trying to find out how much pain it can inflict using them

And now it’s showing jeri that her friends are getting they’re asses handed to them by the agent. No doubt it’s trying to gaslight her into thinking that it’s her fault they’re getting hurt(not that she doesn’t already believe that, but the d-reaper is just rubbing salt in the wounds)

A lot of the d-reapers actions become a lot more insidious upon rewatch

“Lonely is my destiny” no don’t say that(on a side note, jeri tenses up upon hearing that word, as she’s starting to become more lucid)

And the agent still repeats what she, almost as a way saying “this is what she has to endure. Every moment you waste is one where jeri suffers)

They finally manage to get that thing to shut up… and it’s replaced by the biggest agent yet, the optimizer. A powerful dragon like agent that can produce bubbles from itself

The good new is that grani has fully bio-emerged, and latches onto to gallentmons power to become comple(even gaining a red and gold color scheme)

Jeri hears takato’s name(probably via his psychic powers) once again starting to break free of her trance

[inforapound]

With Our Eyes Shut Ch.2

A/N - I really wasn’t sure anyone would read a Sigefrid fic so to those who liked and commented on the first chapter, I really appreciate it. Chapter 1 Here. 

Series Warnings - historical/series inaccuracies, mentions of abuse, mentions of pregnancy termination, angst, fluff.

 Pairing - Sigefrid and OFC    Chapters 2 of 4

“You do not speak much.”

Glancing away, her eyes shifted about the room but returned to his, clearly unsure of whether to respond.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, noticing the way her fingers still fiddled with her apron and the skirt of her dress. “Afraid of this?” he lifted his bladed arm.

Looking at it, she nodded yes.

“Wise,” he smiled showing his remarkably good teeth.

“I do speak,” her voice croaked, and she immediately cleared her throat. “But, here, it is better to be….” she hesitated.

“Mute?”

“Invisible.”

“I see,” he eyed her a moment longer, dissecting her meaning before taking a seat and motioning for her to join.

Moving to stand next to him, she unsurprisingly, chose the side with his good hand.

“Woman, start,” he nodded, his voice again gruff.

Reaching forward, she gathered the materials they had abandoned the first day. Pulling the one remaining copy of the alphabet forward, she pushed a quill towards him.

With a huff, he picked it up, fumbling with the thin feather and pressed it to the parchment. Her hands shot forward and grabbed his, stilling it before repositioning the feather in his large, weathered hand.

“Softly,” she uttered. “Do not press.”

Saying nothing, he watched her small hands pull away from his.

Humming, she indicated her approval as he drew the curved lines of the first letter. Once done, he scowled at his work and looked over to her.

“A,” she said, looking at him evenly.

“A,” he repeated, perking up at the fact she had not found an error. 

“Ahh,” she sounded it out.

“What?” he made a face.

“This letter. That is the sound it makes. Ahh.”

“Why? I thought it was A. I am not making that sound.”

Shrugging, she looked back to the paper and pointed at the next symbol walking him through the same process.

Shooting his head back, he felt the silliest sense of pride, looking at the two markings that were more or less like hers.

It made him grin, “I am a fucking natural. Nooooo surprise,” he called out, tipping his head back and laughing.

She could not help but smile and his eyes caught it before returning his focus to the next few letters.

Perfectly still, she stood at his side and each time he completed another, he would look to her for adulation. Inwardly he rolled his eyes at himself, so easily bolstered by her praise.

“Sit down,” he said, still working the quill. “A warrior does not like to be stood over.”

Pulling out the chair, she settled in and he slouched back, taking it as a moment to rest.

“I do not understand how these things,” he nodded indicating the paper, “create language.”

She looked from him back to the paper, “It takes time, Lord. It is a skill...like any other. Each step a base for the next.”

She kept her gaze on the table, avoiding his eyes.

He sighed, opening and closing his hand as if it had been strained.

“This exhausts me. I feel the need to,” put my cock in something warm he thought but instead he said, “...drink.”

Sliding back his chair, he rose and headed to the door, glancing back as he opened it, “We will do this again.”

“Tomorrow, Lord?”

Chewing the skin on the inside of his lip, he paused, thinking, “No,” he shook his head, leaving without another word.

___

It was a week before she turned and nearly slammed into the enormous Waylen standing behind her, waiting to escort her to the meeting room. Following that lesson, she was summoned every few days but it quickly evolved into most afternoons.

The progress was slow and slowed further by his many questions and need to understand. And, although still skittish, she seemed to find some guarded sense of ease in his presence, set back, at times, by his outbursts of frustration.

She began to bring a jug of ale and bread and cheese or fruit, whatever she could take from the kitchen without attracting attention. As one of the two Lords of Beamfleot, Sigefrid could have anything but she, maintaining her word to keep their meetings private, moved in the shadows.

That afternoon, the session was much like any other, Sigefrid in the chair, uncomfortably working the quill with her seated next as he sounded out simple words. Still, regularly grunting and mumbling how moronic it all was.

“Now what?” He dropped the feather and looked at her.

“A moment please, Lord,” rising from her seat, she went to the shelf on the far side and filled a cup from a jug of wine. Bringing it to him, along with a plate of bread and dried meat with an apple on the side, she handed it over, motioning for him to drink.

“Are you trying to poison me,” he sniffed the cup. “Or, get me drunk?”

“Eat and drink first. The next part will feel silly and you anger easily when you have not eaten.”

Smiling, he emptied half the cup in one loud gulp, taking such a large bite from the apple, it collapsed into two. Smoothing his hand over his thick black beard, his smile simmered but his dark eyes continued to shine. It was quiet moments like these, looking at her pretty face that he felt he was coming to terms with his fondness of having her near. 

“So the wine loosens the tongue and makes me a better pupil, eh?”

“Enough wine and people will do almost anything,” she smiled but quickly lowered her eyes.

“How did you end up a slave in Beamfleot?”

“I told you,” she replied in a soft voice, still looking down. “My mother and father were killed.”

“Yes, but after that?”

“I made my way through the woods, eventually found myself on that ridge just beyond the east wall. Stayed there for several days.”

“And then?” he pressed, tearing off a bite of the salted meat.

She settled back in the chair as if sensing the lesson was over.

“Two men out hunting stumbled upon me and one of them brought me home to his family. He had a wife and four children and I helped look after them and cook...did chores,” she shrugged.

“Did they mistreat you?” he emptied his cup and she sprung to her feet, retrieving the jug and filled it again.

“I am alive so...” she sat back down. 

Dropping his chin, he eyed her, squinting, making it clear he was not buying her dismissiveness.

For a moment she said nothing but exhaled and answered. “He took liberties, Lord,” she looked down, tucking her long hair behind her ear. “After the first season with them...I found myself...in a sensitive way.”

At that, his own eyes faltered and he looked into his cup, saying nothing more.

Clearing her throat, she again pushed the hair away from her face.

“I drank poison I got from a healer... or a witch, I am not sure what she was. It took care of it and nearly me in the process, but some good did come from it,” she pressed her lips together. “He did not touch me after that...though...his wife became a danger.” She shrugged again. “I have forced myself to believe that it was not about me,” she looked up, surprising him by staring into his eyes, “and that I was just some faceless pound of flesh. On your own Lord, you learn all people prey on those who have no where to go.”

They sat for some time in silence, broken only by the distant sounds of wood being chopped and faint voices as people went about their day.

“You hate Saxon people?” he finally asked, his voice unusually quiet.

“I neither hate or care for them but I am reminded each day that they are not my people.”

“Do you speak of these meetings to the other slaves.”

“No, Lord,” her eyes widened. “Never. I speak to no one. I have only ever had words with you...and Lord Erik on that first day. Being from Frankia, there is no place for me among the slaves. I just do as I’m told.”

Closing his eyes, he could not help but imagine the horrors she must have endured, hoping that this man was one he had driven his sword through. It made his gut feel sour and he cleared his throat, shaking off the feeling. “Bloody Saxons, eh?”

Frowning, he gave her an awkward look, concealing the fact he felt strange; the irony of their lives and circumstances flaring in his mind.

He held out his cup. “Finish it,” he nodded. “It helps with more than loosening the tongue.”

Her face brightened a little and she reached out, taking the cup from his hand and tasting the wine.

“Do I still scare you?” he asked, speaking slowly, his voice deep and resonant.

Air rushed from her nose and she nearly laughed. “Of course,” she replied and he felt a twinge of disappointment.

“You need this too,” he held out his plate, noticing that her face had thinned over the weeks of their meetings. “Go on, I am not a generous man so...”

Reaching forward, she took a piece of the hard meat, taking a small bite.

“More?” he jerked his head toward the cup, topping it up from the jug, feeling rather content with the way that she smiled.

——

Her translation of the recent scroll had been correct; two powerful thrones were set to align. Kingdoms throughout England wanted to wish Alfred’s daughter and the lord of Mercia’s marriage well by sending gifts. The offerings were received at Winchester and were to be transported to Mercia via convoy, guarded by a handful of soldiers, exactly ten days before the ceremony.

The brothers had been there to intercept. Waiting on either side of the road with only four additional men. It had been effortless; the convoy blindsided. The Saxon men easily cut down and the brothers back in Beamfleot, much wealthier, all before the evening meal. The take was great; gold and silver, jewelry, some weapons, and books; those, of course, would be burned. As much as Sigefrid loved to fight, he saw the wisdom in this approach.

Slouching back in his chair at the head table, hand on a full horn, he stared out the open doors only partially listening to Erik and another man recount the day and laugh. Instead of chuckling along, his mind drifted to other lands, farther north and even overseas. Places she could speak the language that he had never even dreamt of conquering.

A figure flashed by in the late-day light, entering the dining room.

“If she picked a fight it looks like she lost,” Erik said, leaning closer to Sigefrid, jerking his head in the girl’s direction.

Having not caught a proper glimpse, Sigefrid turned and instantly saw what Erik was referring to. She was visibly upset and clutching her shoulder, her face flushed and her dress covered in muck from the hip down. Before even forming his next thought, he was up and crossing the room, grabbing her arm to stop her from entering the kitchen.

Staring down at her startled, tear-streaked face, he saw that the front of her was wet and the neck of her dress torn.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Breaking their eye contact, she shook her head, folding over her apron to cover the mess.

“I said,” he softened the intensity of his voice, “what happened? Did someone hurt you?” Again, his eyes scanned her muddy clothes, focusing on her defined collarbone exposed by the tear in the fabric.

Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she glanced up nervously, her eyes flitting passed him toward where he had been sitting.

As he was turning to follow her line of sight, a shrill voice interrupted.

“Where is that Frankish whore?” spat one of the older kitchen thralls. Rounding the corner, her eyes locked onto the girl but flashed wide at the sight of Sigefrid.

“What is going on?” This time he yelled. “I will not ask again!”

The haggard-looking woman shook her head as if disgusted, “Nothing you need to trouble yourself with, Lord, I will handle her. This stupid girl can’t even do a simple task. I’ve already been told she’s gone and tripped, smashed the whole lot of eggs.”

His eyes snapped back to the girl but she was looking down at her clasped hands.

“Get in here and stop bother’n Lord Sigefrid, you filth. I’m gonna beat your ass with...”

“That’s enough!” he barked at the woman making her washed-out eyes shoot even wider. “Shut your mouth and get in that kitchen,” he pointed with his blade.

The old woman turned on her heel and disappeared around the corner.

“Go clean up,” he said to the girl, stepping closer, irritated she would not look at him. “I want you working in the dining room only. Where I can see.”

They both stood still for a moment, his eyes again running over the rip in her dress, catching sight of red marks on her skin that were beginning to rise.

 “Go,” he ordered, and she started off, racing out the main door in the direction of the barn slave quarters.

“Settling slave disputes now, brother?” Erik smiled as Sigefrid dropped heavily back into his chair, his eyes still set on the door.

“That girl is more trouble than she’s worth,” he muttered under his breath, taking a drink of mead.

“Four hundred pounds of gold and silver upstairs says otherwise,” Erik nudged his leg under the table.

While he had been away from his seat, Haesten joined and was now seated, drinking, droplets of ale running down his unruly beard.

The long tables began to fill for the evening meal and the volume of the room rose as word of the ambush and the rich spoils spread.

Sigefrid's eyes caught the movement of her dark hair as she rushed back in, barely visible behind the tall warriors. As she came into view, she glanced at him before rushing to collect a pitcher.

“Cleans up nice, that one,” Haesten’s husky voice oozed out, his smudged black eyes tracking her. “I like her big round tits. They have yet to be worked flat,” he laughed, taking another drink.

The meal was served by four thralls, including her. Platters of meat and bread, some root vegetables, and bowls of green apples were carried out for the fifty or so men eating in the first seating.

Unusually quiet, Sigefrid chewed meat from a leg of pheasant, his eyes scanning the packed room but always drifting back to her.

She moved between the rows, refilling cups of ale, seemingly avoiding his table altogether. Further, and more concerning he noticed how his men heckled her, some patting her bottom and others tugging on the skirt of her dress.

“Ah, you have noticed my blooming flower,” Haesten crooned.

“Huh?” Sigefrid looked over at him.

“She has escaped my clutches twice now. I found her bending over, collecting eggs from the coop; that plump round ass of hers high in the air. Hmm,” he hummed to himself, his eyes still following her. “No luck though, little thing squirmed out of my arms for a second time,” pausing he took a swig from his cup, “seeing her bent, I could not help but yank down my pants. Next time I will wait until I’m between her legs so she cannot out-run me,” he laughed.

Sigefrid’s hand slammed down so hard on the table, it jostled the plates and cups.

“You will go no where near her,” he spoke low and slow, dropping his chin as he stared at Haesten.

Without looking up from his plate, Erik spoke around a mouthful of bread, “She is our translator now. And...she is a good girl. Not to be handled roughly by the likes of you.”

Sigefrid’s face was tense, his eyes still burning out from under his dark brow.

“Does not seem that all the men are aware,” Haesten said, looking back over at her.

Also looking, Sigefrid saw one of his men, pull her down onto his lap, laughing, telling her not to be so shy.

Out of his seat, he stormed around the table, grabbing the girl’s arm for the second time that night, yanking her out of his man's grasp. The warrior looked up, utterly confused seeing Sigefrid’s gritted teeth and narrowed eyes.

”Lord,” he said in an apologetic tone, “I had not realized that you had taken her for yourself.”

“Well, I have!” he roared and the room fell silent. “No one touches this slave. No one,” he glared at all those staring back at him, “Until I am done with her,” he added, turning and leading her back to the table.

Sitting, he pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arm around her waist, ignoring both his brother and Haesten. The young woman sat awkwardly, staring down at her hands, her long brown hair hanging loose, concealing the sides of her face.

Taking a leg of chicken from his plate, he held it up for her but she did not take it; just looked at it, nervously.

His arm tightened around her waist and pressed his lips against her hair.

“Eat,” he whispered. Straightening, he spoke again, this time loud enough for the others to hear. “I will not have your ass disappear.” Slowly she reached up and took the drumstick, bringing it to her mouth. “Once you are done go up to the meeting room and wait for me.”

——

It was not clear to him why he knocked instead of barging in but there he was, standing in the hall waiting for her to answer. Opening the door, she glanced up but quickly stepped aside clearing the way.

Once the door was closed behind, he faced her, standing close and shifting the bundle of fabric he held under one arm. His eyes settled on the two crudely stitched x’s that held the neck of her dress in place.

“These dresses were in a trunk in my room,” he held them out. “Likely the prior lady’s.”

Blinking with surprise she took them, the bundle enormous in her arms.

Shuffling his feet, he searched for his next words, confused by his cautiousness, and again irritated that she had been dragged into his life by his brother.

Studying her, he noticed how her hands fumbled nervously with the clothes and how she could not maintain his gaze. Likely bracing, he guessed, for some form of assault. But there was just something about her thick dark hair and brown eyes, the symmetry of her plush lips and round cheeks that made him unable to look away. He felt weakened somehow, and worse, could not tell if he liked or hated it.

Slowly, he reached forward, lifting her chin with his fingers; her round eyes meeting his.

Despite the flood of bewilderment, what he did know, undeniably, is that he never wanted her to hurt again. For the first time in his thirty-one years, he asked a slave, her, an intimate question; one that related to who she was in her world before he destroyed it. “Tell me,” he narrowed his eyes, “What is your name?”

Her small, reluctant voice answered, so faint he had to strain to hear.

“Genevieve.”

 Next Chapter 

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[moonaft]

The Killing Frost - Review

I usually wait for my library to have a copy before reading the latest book. Not this time.

Honestly, this is more of a live blog than a review.

Spoilers up to The Killing Frost and June 2020 for the Patreon stories.

Before I begin, I want to mention that I have physical copies of only some of the books. These are Rosemary and Rue, One Salt Sea, The Winter Long, The Brightest Fell. As of yesterday, I count the Kindle copy of The Killing Frost in that number and will pick up a physical copy eventually. Everything else I borrow from the library, which are usually always available. This series is something I keep re-reading because there’s something new every time I read.

“It doesn’t matter what I wear to the wedding, we both know it’s going to be completely covered in blood before we reach ‘I do’“ and we’re off to a wonderful start. I’m so glad Toby has become genre-savvy. She can now anticipate and plan for being covered in blood. That’s character development.

“My name is October Daye because my mother should never have been allowed to name her own children.” No, your name is October Daye because Eira wanted children named thematically after their parents and the Torquills went for all the months of the year. You can blame September for that one. Or I suppose August is older than January, so blame Simon.

Interesting that she’s accepted that one day she’ll burn out the rest of her humanity.

“Now I live in a house that I own free and clear, thank to Sylvester” Does he still pay property taxes on it, or is that Toby? Does Sylvester have an accountant, and if so, are they fae or human?

Toby, you could definitely get married at the courthouse and then do a fae wedding. They won’t recognize the mortal one but you can still say you’re married. Do Tybalt have any form of human id? I guess they could magic something up and confuse the attendant.

Hi Karen! Something I forgot for my “Open Question” post - why does Stacy have two Seer daughters when Seers have been nearly extinct for centuries?

How’s that for a plot hook? Your seer niece lets you know what you’re doing and with whom. Easy.

After everything Toby’s been through, she has a right to be paranoid when someone knocks at the door after Karen’s done warning her.

Could still be a trap. Negative points for not confirming with Tybalt first.

His date idea is very romantic, I will give him that.

Does Tybalt even have a last name? I don’t remember if he does.

It’s always fun to recognize people before the narrator mentions them by name. Hi Patrick and Dianda! This isn’t suspicious at all.

Does Dianda use the same wheelchair whenever she’s on land? If so, where do they store it? Or do they haul it with them? Is there a storage unit filled with Undersea fae stuff?

Patrick, this isn’t weird at all. You’re digging for something. Given that the summary says Toby needs to invite her legal father to her wedding, I assume you’re trying to make sure he’s there.

I’m not convinced Simon’s trying to wake up Evening. He doesn’t like her, and if losing his way home made him forget August even exists, I’m not sure he’d return to Evening given a chance.

And there’s the actual kicker - by not inviting Simon, Toby allows his boss to claim offense. Evening claiming offense on his behalf is a very very bad thing, and that’s why it’s important he’s there. I am certain Patrick’s parents weren’t at his wedding, but they probably washed their hands of him when they heard who he was marrying. And their liege probably didn’t care about a landless Baron in another Kingdom, so there was no consequence.

The Luidaeg did tell Toby she has to find Simon - along with two other tasks. What happened to those?

Looks like Patrick does have the broad strokes of the plots of The Winter Long and The Brightest Fell - given how much Toby doesn’t tell people, I wasn’t sure. She didn’t tell him about Poppy prior to the Ducky of Ships, after all.

Patrick and Dianda do want him back - looks like I might right that he goes to Saltmist when this all clears up. And they really want him to divorce Amandine, which, yeah. That marriage is not a good one. I firmly believe that if they do divorce, both Toby and August would declare for Simon.

“Bring him home” from Les Mis starts playing. It’s interesting that Dianda is the one telling Toby this.

“You and Tybalt have been banking on my ignorance throughout this whole process, and now your reward is that you have to go with me to look for Simon Torquill, and Tybalt can’t come” I love how she rolls with it. This would have been unheard of in The Winter Long. 

“And yes, I actually wanted him to be there when I did that, if it was even remotely possible.” Aww. It’s a shame her relationship with Sylvester is deteriorating at the same time her relationship with Simon is growing, but it is growing.

I assume Spike, being fae, is also functionally immortal and won’t die of old age.

“I hardly wind up ambushed and alone at all these days.” True, thanks to your ever growing cast of rotating characters.

I love Toby’s continued roasting of Evening and Amandine.

If Evening’s been in the Mists for a thousand years and also popped for Tam Lin in Scotland 500 years ago, how is she getting back and forth between the two? Though she convince Torin to take Saltmist when she was asleep, so maybe she’s just been dreamwalking.

Hi Marcia! What weird things are you going to do this book that no one’s going to pick up on?

Dean and Quentin are cute together.

Wait, this means Toby needs to invite Amandine to her wedding. Fuck.

It’s the Summer Roads key again.

Right, Ceres could do it too. And Toby’s actually thinking of the consequences of her actions.

Quentin will be a force of reckoning on the High King’s throne.

Hi Etienne! You could totally go visit Toby whenever you want.

Randomly appearing magic door - technically, the knowe could bring them directly to the Moon Garden if it wanted to. It wants to bring them to this door, and let them know something’s going on.

Blood for the blood door? Toby has a right to Shadowed Hills, and the knowe knows and likes her. Maybe this is a way of helping with her eventual claim?

“Cool. Good to know. We’re all going to be eaten by weird magic flowers.” “Let’s face it, this isn’t much of a surprise.”

It’s Raysel’s bed/coffin. Given that they’re looking for Evening, I don’t like the parallels to Raysel’s Firstborn. 

Neither Evening nor Simon have an interest in Raysel, but Sylvester doesn’t know that.

I love October’s speech to Sylvester about Rayseline.

It would likely be good for Raysel to spend a year with Toby at her house. She can meet Toby’s teens and live without her parents for a while. Might be awkward when Dean shows up but that’s a conversation they need to have.

Interesting that Raysel’s magic changes - did she get more of her father’s scent?

Summer Roads key is weird, and definitely more plot related than it appears. Given that it’s currently a MacGuffin to get to Evening, that’s pretty powerful.

What is this weird black bubble.

Shit, May got impaled.

So this is where Simon stored Luna and Raysel for 14 years. I personally wouldn’t anchor a formless void holding a Blodynbryd off the Rose Road where she has power, but it ‘worked out’ I suppose.

Toby’s headache is concerning me. I wonder if she’s doing the impossible without knowing it, and that’s what’s causing the magical backlash.

How did Luna and Raysel escape the bubble? There’s been no indication that someone found them, so perhaps they found Simon’s door.

Toby’s talking to Maeve as roses. How is she doing this? Why is Maeve (or part of Maeve?) part of the Rose Road? Didn’t the Luidaeg and Toby turn onto Annis’s Roads at some point during The Winter Long? Did they transition from the Summer Roads part of the Rose Roads into the Winter Roads? Is that even a thing? Why does the Summer Key allow them access to it?

Reviewing TWL again, the Luidaeg used the Key to open Annis’s forgotten road to take a shortcut to Shadowed Hills. Then Luna used the Key to open a Rose Road to Evening. The Key, which “belonged to [Luna’s] grandmother”. Unspecified grandmother. Maybe it’s not a Summer Roads Key afterall.

Roses are the thing that connects all three Branches - Maeve has them, Eira has them, Amandine has them.

Unrelated to the current plot, I think Raysel would be great with flowers. It’s implied that when a mixed blood uses a hope chest to pick one bloodline, they keep something from the missing bloodline. Tybalt’s niece Cailin (Daoine Sidhe/Cait Sidhe -> Cait Sidhe) is extraordinarily good with illusions and can’t shapeshift. August is relatively good with illusions (enough to bind Quentin) and kept her red hair and yellow eyes.

And Maeve (or a representative?) listens to Toby. Wow.

Quentin has strong and unflattering opinions about Evening’s forest scene. I love how the characters feel focusing on the small details. They’ve accepted the impossible and have moved beyond it.

Interesting that there’s no scent of roses before finding Evening’s clearing. Another open question: why does Evening also get apples in addition to roses and snow? What causes the shift between roses+snow and roses+apples? 

And why doesn’t anyone but the Luidaeg recognize that apples are also Evening’s? 

“I wish I’d met Simon and Sylvester’s parents... it doesn’t make sense.” “Most Daoine Sidhe I’ve known have something floral about their magic. Simon doesn’t” Does his mulled cider not count? Fruit isn’t floral? I want to know Septimius’s magic scents as well, because I’m pretty sure Simon got the apple cider from him, via his own mother aka Evening’s daughter Fómhar. The October Daye wiki is failing me on some of these names.

Please let her know that the twins were once changelings this book. Please.

May, I’m sorry you have a literal hole in your body, but I live for magical theory.I need moar.

Hello, Sleeping Beauty. Also, Simon is rather good at archery and I don’t know why that doesn’t come up more often. 

Simon is not looking well. He’s also doing some bizarre leaps of conversation -

October: We came here to look for you.

Simon: Where’s Oleander? 

No one brought up Oleander? I get that the spell is doing weird things to his mind, maybe it’s skipping. 

"who seemed to have stolen most of his memory of who he’d been”

Jossed on him not seeking out Evening, but kinda confirmed on the reason why: he doesn’t give a reason why he’s working with Evening. The spell’s not working as well as it did on August - he is definitely getting confused, if only briefly. 

Is that why he didn’t show up during Night and Silence or The Unkindest Tide? He was stuck in the clearing? What has he been eating? Is he still wearing the same clothes he was in for The Winter Long and The Brightest Fell? 

October: Hey, you can wait here for a hundred years, we just need you to take a trip to see the Luidaeg. It’ll be super quick.

Toby, I love you. 

AND HE REMEMBERS PATRICK. Enough to stand down, at least. But he think’s Patrick’s dead? Oh no no no. Did he think that for most of the last century? This keeps getting sadder. 

At least he’s not hurting May and Quentin. 

I don’t think he sent the Doppelganger in Rosemary and Rue, pretty sure that was Devin. 

He doesn’t remember the events of TBF, interesting. 

Fucking hell, that was too easy. I should have seen it would be too easy. And he thinks Amandine modified Toby’s memory?

I guess May doesn’t need to worry about infection. 

Helpful pixies! Glad to see more of them. Toby better deliver that dinner soon. 

“Also to be fair, the terrible disaster was usually either my fault or happening to me” True words, Toby. 

Hi Walther and Cassie! 

HI Luidaeg!

If her debts are currently balanced, then she did work off the other two from The Unkindest Tide. 

Yeah, pretty sure Simon hasn’t broken the Law yet. 

Emotionally mature Toby strikes again. She’s been so this entire book. The amount of difficult conversations so far is pretty large. 

This focus on Stacy not wanting her kids to date is interesting, unless it’s a red herring. And she grew up with Toby in Shadowed Hills. Not Firstborn, I won’t guess one of the Three - Marianne? But she was fully grown back during the earthquake. Did her fae grandparents have a human partner like Simon and Sylvester’s parents, and her fae parent was also a changeling? They moved away after their child died because they couldn’t deal with the grief? A hope chest moving her blood? How old was October when she met Stacy?

Hi Arden!

Recap time with the Luidaeg. 

A solution with Dianda and Patrick? If he goes and lives in Saltmist, he’s far from people who want to harm him. 

If Simon’s so good at using other people’s blood, then potentially he could use Amandine/August/Toby’s blood to be a poor man’s Dóchas Sidhe. For healing, maybe?

‘Her husband could only hear the ones who belonged to him” - huh, interesting tidbit about Oberon. 

Torquill lore! Finally revealed to Toby!

Off to Goldengreen. Return of the water trauma for Toby, boo. 

Oh my god she’s an otter. So cute! Yes, everyone should be an otter. Bite her, Toby. Do it. 

Marcia! Does Marcia not know that Simon exists as a separate person from Sylvester? Acacia at least understood that Simon wasn’t Sylvester, even if she didn’t get the concept of twins. I’m not surprised she survived Simon’s spells - Evening seemed to completely ignore her in TWL. And Firstborns tend to get mind whammed if they think about her for too long. More evidence for the Titania theory (or Maeve, if she’s in multiple pieces).

That many spells can’t be good. 

I am not surprised that Toby asked how to give Simon her way home. This family has a tendency to pass around debts. 

Also, now would be a good time to call Tybalt. Might be faster than driving to Half Moon Bay. I guess the plan is to steal a Selkie skin and swim to Saltmist since Goldengreen was a bust? But yeah, he’s probably not up to date with TUK if he’s been stuck in the clearing for a year. 

“evil hot potato” good phrase. This stinks a little of self-sabotage.

Diva did need to be shifted, interesting. 

Simon wouldn’t have gotten away with it, there’s nothing natural about a boy eating 6+ bowls of soup, especially if he kept doing it past when he’s physical ill. Poor Quentin.

Interesting that Simon’s not trying to cause harm. His superpowered spells are doing a terrific amount of damage, but nothing that can’t technically be reversed if they have the power to do so. Even Quentin was harmed only because he couldn’t stop eating, and that wasn’t Simon’s intention. 

Dean admittedly is not have a good day. Neither is Quentin. 

Simon under the Luidaeg’s curse is surprisingly self-reflective. I wasn’t expecting that.

Fuck off, Evening.

I didn’t think we’d get the reason behind why the Luidaeg couldn’t lie in this book, that’s nice.

Go Toby, tear this bitch down.

It is interesting that of the three daughters of Titania we’ve met, each one follows a different school of magic. Guess it shows that schools of magic don’t always follow blood.

Evening has been dreamwalking. Stronger when she’s sleeping? Can’t keep her asleep, can’t keep her awake. Can they turn her into a stone?

Confirmation: Titania was banished, and I assume only Oberon could do that.

“Lady, let alone” Maybe in the first blood changing dream, with her father who I think was actually Oberon? I don’t remember.

Tybalt and Walther also aren’t having good days.

I don’t get what Toby’s figured out.

“Rolling emergency that is your ongoing existence” Love it.

Dean’s day is getting better.

There goes the hot potato. I appreciate that Simon’s first action is to get the Luidaeg to reverse it and I’m sure Tybalt isn’t far behind.

Simon’s spending a good portion of the book confused.

Toby just coughed up a pigeon. I can’t determine if that’s weirder than the Luidaeg pulling it out of her chest.

“None of my enemies are remotely that powerful” I’m pretty sure there won’t be a book where Toby travels back in time, but just imagine what a book that would be. And Simon’s mulled cider is back, nice. And confused again.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY? Thornton?? OBERON???

Is his name a play on ‘root and thorn’?

Did he make himself human so Janet could fall in love with him as human? He’s expecting her.

Her name was suppose to be Almandine? And she doesn’t count as home to Toby, no wonder.

She got Oberon lost in Annwn and then pulled him out again. What the fuck.

Confused man remains confused. “He looked like a man who’d just lost everything” Something tells me that isn’t because he’s meeting his father-in-law/a physical god. Did Evening tell him something about Oberon’s return that hasn’t been revealed yet?

Lots of people get to come home today. This is great.

Time to get status reports. Toby is calm in crisis, as long as no one’s actively trying to kill her.

Let the Luidaeg and her father catch up. Wow. I didn’t expect they’d find Oberon with more books left to go.

Toby owes Walther far more than just one pizza - get that boy home and let him sleep.

Way too tired to consider how the car got there. Is it only one day since the Cat in the Rafters? Is this book taking place over the course of a single day? How long were they on the Rose Roads? Everyone needs sleep and food.

I do appreciate Simon taking responsibility for his actions and while apologizing doesn’t fix anything, it is the right thing to do. Toby hasn’t had a chance to tell him about her meeting with Patrick and Dianda, has she? He assumes he’ll be elfshot.

Not that his opinion matters on the Toby/Tybalt relationship, but I like how he’s being supportive.

Get married in the courthouse Toby, The fae won’t recognize it but it takes pressure off the wedding in Toronto so when that goes south, you are still married. Take May, Jazz, Quentin, Raj and whoever else you can grab at short notice.

Good on Toby for checking in on Tybalt and having a difficult conversation.

Back to Goldengreen. Do let Marcia hit Simon, let her do that. Once again, no one remembers that Marcia’s survived things a thin blooded changeling shouldn’t. And Simon doesn’t want to face Patrick and Dianda. It’s been over a hundred years since he last saw them. I wonder how much of the time he thought they were dead?

Changing people into trees can at least be reversed. There’s going to be trauma, but it’s better that everyone in Goldengreen was a tree or toadstool then dead.

“We have access to Oberon now, we can ask him for more Laws if you think we need them.” Oh god. I love this entire chapter, the dialogue is great and too numerous to quote.

And Simon, Patrick, and Dianda aren’t saying anything. Thank you for taking charge of this scene, Toby, otherwise nothing’s going to get done.

“Not that we’re going to get a honeymoon, since someone is inevitably going to try to  murder or abduct us” If you say it and plan for it, it might not happen.

Toby’s little interjection to Dean, the pro-mammal conversation, this chapter is pure good.

Can Simon say Eira’s name now? It choked in his throat during TWL.

Are they really getting into the Janet thing now?

Side-stepped that conversation. Simon definitely wasn’t expecting his best friend and wife to convince to divorce his wife, and then have his step-daughter and her fiance agree as well.

OT3! OT3! Oh man, I didn’t expect this and I love it so much! OT3! Do it! Also, Dean’s day just got weirder.

OT3!

“hey, kiddo we want to open our marriage and include the man who just turned you into a tree” so many difficult conversations to have.

Oh my fucking god, this is everything I could have wanted and didn’t know to ask for.

Wedding time? IS IT WEDDING TIME? “My mother’s divorce proceedings” THAT WORKS TOO.

Glad Toby is still carrying her knife even to this. She’s going to be wearing it to her own wedding.

I still can’t believe Simon’s the one calling for the divorce but good for him. Prior to this, I assumed it would be Amandine insisting on it. I assume the news got to Sylvester and Luna and I would love to know what Sylvester thinks of this.

Hadn’t realized Evening got Quentin fostered to Shadowed Hills because she wanted to marry him and become High Queen.

Fuck off, Amandine. Poor August. Raj gets one line in this book :(

And now it’s confirmed public knowledge that Amandine’s Firstborn.

Called Toby declaring for Simon, and I love how fierce she’s picturing her human father during this.

Also, I firmly believe if August hadn’t disappeared and Amandine still married Jonathan Daye (and Patrick and Dianda hadn’t convinced Simon to divorce her), Simon would have been a part of that. And if Amandine hadn’t told him and just brought October home one day, he would have helped Toby still see her own father.

Patrick and Dianda have gotten him to sleep and eat, good. He wasn’t looking well a couple chapters (a week?) ago.

He’s still trying to protect August to make choosing Amandine easier. I still think she’s choosing him.

CALLED IT.

Hi Oberon! Nobody recognizes you, that’s interesting. And you can calm everyone in the crowd. So you have some power.

“You have no descendant line to stand for you” Is that why Eria’s focused on breeding pure blood Daoine Sidhe? She gets power from everyone who declares for her? My current theory is that she wants to be the true Queen of Faerie, get rid of the Three and rule by herself.

Surprise wedding! Five minutes after Simon got divorced! I love this OT3 so damn much.

Dean, Peter and Toby all agree, August doesn’t say no. Toby has two new step-parents and two step-brothers? I honestly can’t think of Dianda as Toby’s step-mother. She’s Toby’s punchy friend and also the women who married Toby’s step-father/ fae legal father.

Peter’s the one who probably going to spend the most time with Simon, given that he’s still an enemy in Goldengreen. Is August moving down to the Undersea? She can’t stay in the tower anymore. Maybe she can crash at Toby’s or Shadowed Hills or Tamed Lightning if she doesn’t want to stay underwater. Has she seen January since she got home? Or maybe stay at Muir Woods.

I would love to see the dynamics of this new family. And the conversations of the OT3 in the past week.

I’m glad to see Simon and August out of Amandine’s grasp. She was abusive.

Wait, Toby doesn’t need to invite Amandine to her wedding because they’re not legally related anymore. Excellent.

Really wondering how the news is taken at Shadowed Hills.

What a great book. What wonderful surprises. I couldn’t have asked for more. No one died. Lots of trauma from super powered compulsion and shapeshifting to deal with but honestly, things are better for a lot of people.

To me, it feels like Simon’s story has mostly closed. He can rest and be happy with his spouses in Saltmist, and pop up whenever Toby needs info about Evening’s plan or blood magic, like Walther does for alchemist solutions. Staying mostly out of the line of fire. Good for him. I was so concerned he would die as a result of resolving his story.

Review of Shine in Pearl to follow.

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

A Light In The Dark

Requested by @hobby27 “Ooo ohhh 65-66-67-70-78 shy dean and clueless reader” I hope you love it darling!

So this one has formed a life of its own so it's really long. I'm not even sorry about it.  I don't know exactly how shy Dean is in this...but I hope you like it!

65: “ Did you do something different with your hair? ”66: “ Is that a new perfume? ”67: “ Stop being so cute. ”70: “ This is why I fell in love with you. ”78: “ Hold me, don't let me go. ”

As always thank you for your likes, comments and reblogs. If you would like to be added to my Supernatural Tag List or any of my others (I currently write for SPN, MCU, Arrow, TVD and I love PLL so I’m down for that too) send me a message! (Not an ask- it’s easier for me to look back at messages if need be!)

Taglist:

@fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma

You were sitting in the library of the bunker doing some “light reading” on light magic. Nothing in the library of the bunker was light reading but it fascinated you. You, like the Winchesters, were a legacy to The Men of Letters. Granted you were a woman, but you were confident if they hadn’t gone out the way they did, as time went on more women would have been accepted into the society. You were a huge asset to the Winchester brothers and a huge nerd. Research and learning new things about the supernatural world were your life blood. Your photographic memory made your skills unmatched, even by Sam Winchester. You remember the day you met Sam and Dean vividly. It had been almost 3 years ago. You grew up thinking you were one thing. You had no idea you were adopted until you had a medical scare and needed a bone marrow transplant. Your parents had confessed the truth when no one in your family was a match. That led you down a dark and twisty road to your birth family’s past. 

Your mother had died after she gave birth to you, but it hadn’t been from child birth complications. She had been attacked by a vampire. Your father had stepped in while she was moments from death and killed the blood sucking bastard. He rushed your mother to the hospital. They were able to deliver you at 35 weeks via emergency C-Section. There was no way your mother would survive. The doctors acted quickly and saved your life. Your father, so grief stricken from the loss of his wife and his life as a hunter led him to give you up for adoption. 

Once he knew you would survive and were healthy, he found you a wonderful family who desperately wanted a child but couldn’t have one. He made sure you would live your best life. He explained all of this in a letter that your parents kept from you for the first 21 years of your life. You felt so betrayed and yet it made sense. You never felt like you belonged. You were always the “odd one out”. Your adopted mother had a miracle pregnancy when you were 4. They had given fertility treatments one last shot and the IVF brought you your brother and sister. You loved your siblings more than anything in the world but you never felt like you belonged with your twin siblings.

When you discovered your grandfather was a member of the Men of Letters and your mother would have been a legacy had the Men of Letters not been almost decimated. The Men of Letters fascinated you, so you dug and dug until you found out everything there was to know. It took a while but you discovered the location of their secret headquarters. You had been trying to figure out how to get into the bunker when Sam and Dean discovered you. They got the jump on you since you were so focused on breaking in. There you stood, hands in the air while two of the worlds most perfect men pointed guns at you. 

After tying you to a chair in the middle of a devil’s trap they put you through the gamete of testing to prove you were a human. Even after letting them slice into you to prove you were human, it took them 72 hours to give you a chance. It was surprisingly Dean that gave in first. He and Sam were fascinated by your story. You had made the bunker your home ever since that day. The boys had driven you to your home to pack up your things to stay with them at the bunker. You needed to find out who you really were. The answers you needed were there with Sam and Dean. Saying goodbye to your brother and sister was hard. Letting go of your parents was easier, the sting of betrayal and lies still so fresh. You hoped that you could forgive them one day for lying to you. 

You didn’t go on the road with them all that often. You usually worked research at home and sent them info. Occasionally when you felt the cabin fever closing in you’d hit the road with them. You were always welcome but they tended to push you to stay behind on the more grueling cases: The case they were on their way home from happened to be one of those cases. They had been gone for 3 1/2 weeks. A simple Salt and Burn spurred into another case a state over with shape shifter that proved to be one of the most difficult cases they had been involved in for a while. You missed them. The two had become your family. You were also worried. The eldest still held the Mark of Cain. While Dean had been somehow keeping the rage in check, you still worried he’d go off the deep end. His self-loathing was at an all time high. You were afraid if anything happened he wouldn’t be able to come back from it.  You settled down on the couch with a book. You were hoping you could find some magic to remove that damn mark. The boys stumbled in to the bunker a little after midnight. They were exhausted and sore. The idea of a hot shower and their own beds was beyond appealing. Dean also couldn’t wait to see you. He had spent so long trying to ignore the little feeling that fluttered in him any time he was with you for the longest time. You were the first girl in he didn’t even know how long that made him nervous and made him blush. You were blissfully unaware. Sam, however, was not. He razzed him about it often. The truth was though, you helped keep the Mark of Cain at bay. He would look at you and the blood pounding in his ears would dissipate. He knew you had made it your life’s mission to remove that mark from his arm. He was terrified that mission would kill you. 

They were surprised to see the library light on. Normally when you were in the bunker alone you went to sleep relatively early. Sam had worried about you being alone for so long, but the last time you spoke you had assured him that you were fine. In any event, you could take care of yourself. He’d watched you in the shooting range plenty of times to know how good your aim was. He looked at his brother leaning in the doorway and peeked his head in. There you were, passed out, book in your lap.

“You’re kind of creepy staring at her like that.” Sam elbowed his brother. He got a simple glare in return.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to leave her here or put her in her own bed.” Dean reasoned.

“Nah, you better wake her up. She’ll be pissed off if we came home and didn’t. Dean nodded. While Sam loved teasing his brother, it was nice to see him soften towards someone. After Lisa and Ben, Sam was sure that he would spend the rest of his life alone. You were different. You were in this life. You wanted to be in this life. You were good for Dean. Sam was quite certain you felt the same way Dean did, you just didn’t realize it yet. It was kind of an honor to watch the two people he cared most about fall in love.

“Hey- Y/N, wake up sweetheart.” Dean had sat down on the edge of the couch in front of your curled up form. He pushed some hair away from your face and you stirred.

“Dean?” You slowly opened your eyes. It took a moment for you to realize what was going on and then you popped up and threw your arms around him almost knocking the both of you off the couch. “Oh my god you’re okay. I was so scared something happened. You didn’t call. Why didn’t you call?” Your frantic rambling was always endearing. 

“The phone charger died out. There wasn’t a good place to stop and get one. We just wanted to get home.” You nodded your head and then buried it between his neck and shoulder for a moment. Sam felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Then he heard you say “You smell.” Dean laughed, a real laugh and pulled away and studied your face. He touched the end of your hair. When they had left it had been down to the middle of your back and now it barely touched your shoulders.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” It was in a teasing tone.

“I’m surprised you even noticed.” You teased back and Dean held his heart in mock offense. 

“Sammy, you may have the longest hair in the house now.” Sam rolled his eyes and strolled over as Dean helped you to your feet.

“Hi Sam.” You smiled and he bent down to hug you, lifting you off the ground slightly, ignoring the death glare from Dean. Sam was pretty sure he didn’t realize he was doing it. “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.” 

“I missed you too, y/n.” Sam let go much more quickly than Dean had. He reached over and grabbed the book you had been reading. “Light Magic and All It’s Wonders”? He gave you a skeptical look and you yanked it from his hands

. “Nothing but dark magic put that thing on his arm. Light magic may be what can get it off.” You reasoned. Sam wasn’t so sure. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that.” You turned from him before he could argue with you. 

“Is this what you’ve been doing for the last month? Haircuts and research?” Sam relented. He didn’t want to fight with you. 

“Yes. That’s what I’m here for. Research.”

“I just feel like if light magic could remove it, couldn’t Cass do it?” You looked at Sam like he was the dumbest person in the world.

“And how pure is angel magic really? I mean...even Cass has used his abilities for less than noble reasons. The magic that transferred that mark to Dean was pure evil. The only thing that will remove it is pure, unblemished magic. Your problem, is that you associate all witches with evil and deals with demons. That’s not the case. We know from Rowena that there are witches that are born with a gift and then there are those that gain their power from Hell. I will find a witch that has not compromised herself if that’s what it takes. There has to be one somewhere on this planet.” 

“Okay, enough guys.” Dean jumped in before Sam could respond. He couldn’t handle an intellectual sparring match at the moment. While you normally handed Sam his ass, Dean was too tired. “We can contemplate Glinda tomorrow. I need a shower, as Y/N so lovingly pointed out, I smell.“ Sam nodded and headed to his room. While he doubted you, he wanted you to be right. He didn’t mean to give you a hard time. He was more concerned how you were going to feel when it didn’t work. You were so invested in fixing Dean’s issue. He knew you were terrified that Dean would fall down the same rabbit hole Cain had. The idea of putting Dean down was not one anyone wanted to contemplate.

            _____________________________________________________              You woke up much earlier than you had wanted. You had hoped now that your boys were home and safe you would rest easier. That wasn’t the case. The Mark of Cain weighed heavily on you. You were scared. Sam was desperate. You wished he was more open to your ideas. You weren’t naive. You knew there was a good chance that you were wrong. But it didn’t hurt to try. You climbed out of bed to take a quick shower. You grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt. You knew you would end up cold so you put a cardigan out as well.

Once you were dressed you threw on a little bit of make up and headed out to the kitchen. You peaked in at Sam and saw him sprawled out on his bed. He must have been reading before he fell asleep. His arm was hanging over the bed and there was a book on the floor. You quietly shut the door and went and peeked at Dean. He was laying on his back lightly snoring. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep and not having nightmares. You wished it could be like this all of the time for him. You snuck in and quietly got the keys to the Impala so you didn’t wake him up. You grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a quick note to the boys that you ran out to get some groceries and to text you if they needed anything.

You happily hopped into the Impala. You had other cars you could drive but Dean’s was your favorite. You rolled the windows down and let the cool early morning air bite at your cheeks as you drove, turning up the music to quiet the thoughts of demon marks and bad omens that continually ran through your mind.

2 hours and $300 later you were stopping to get breakfast and coffee to bring back to the bunker. After all of the shopping you had no desire to cook anything. You’d make Sam and Dean something for dinner. They had been surviving mostly on bad diner food and convenience store snacks for the past month. You had lived mostly on Yogurt, cereal and pizza while they were gone. You hated cooking and especially hated cooking for yourself. Sam and Dean actually made more meals than you did. 

You pulled the Impala in the garage and texted both of the guys for help. It was unsurprising that Sam was the only one that came out to help.

“Dean’s still sleeping.” Was how Sam greeted you. You just nodded at him. You were still a little upset with him about the night prior. He sighed and finally started speaking. “I’m sorry. I just am worried you’re hanging your hat on this and it’ll fall through.” You sighed.

“Let’s just bring the groceries in. I bought breakfast too.” Sam laughed.

“You bought all of this food and then bought breakfast?”  

“Shut up.” You laughed.

           _____________________________________________________      

You tip toed into Dean's room with a takeout container and a styrofoam cup of coffee and set it on the night stand. You say on the edge of his bed and gently shook him.

“Dean...wake up.” He groaned and slowly opened his eyes and gave you a soft smile.

“Is that a new perfume

or did you bring me bacon?” You threw your head back and laughed.

“Stop being so cute. Get up and eat, it’s after 10am. Oh, I took the Impala this morning. Filled it up with gas for you.”

“Breakfast in bed and you took care of my car?  

This is why I fell in love with you.

“ Dean stopped, eyes wide and a blush creeping up his face. How you didn’t notice he was freaked out, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know if he was happy or disappointed by your reaction.

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes. “Man...I should have brought you pie too...you’d be kissing my feet” you patted his cheek and stood up.

“Meet me and Sammy in the library when you’re done. We’re going to get our nerd on.” You smiled at him brightly and then left the room.

“I think I found a spell.” You jumped up from the table. “Sammy...I found it.” Your eyes were wild with excitement. “We can save him” Sam prayed silently that he didn’t have to crush your excitement. He slid the book over to his side of the table to take a look.

“This might work.” He grinned at you. 

“We just have to find the right witch to do it.” 

"The right witch to do what?" Dean poked his head in the library. 

"She found a spell in that book." Sam let himself get excited. 

"Can't Rowena do it?" Dean questions. You shook your head.

  "No...from what I can tell, it has to be a witch that is, and I quote, pure of heart. So that means they haven't practiced dark magic...not even once." 

"Well how the hell are we going to find a witch that hasn't?" You scoffed at Dean.

"Will you ever learn? Not all witches are evil. Just because something has the reputation of being bad, doesn't make it so. It's not the rule."

"You're right. But wouldn't it be easier to find a way for Rowena to remove it?" Sam asked. 

"Dark magic always has an incredibly dark cost. Don't you think we've suffered enough consequences?" Neither Dean or Sam responded. You pushed the book aside and pulled out your laptop, determined to find a witch to solve all of your problems.

           _____________________________________________________      

It had been weeks and you were still no closer to finding someone to cast the spell to remove the mark from Dean's arm. You were frustrated and getting increasingly cranky with Sam and his constant negativity. When Dean suggested that the three of you take a break and go out and have some fun, you jumped at the chance.

"Okay...the rule of this trip is that we don't talk about the mark, removing it, magic or skeevey witches." Dean laid the ground rules out before he started the Impala. You were settled into the backseat behind him so Sam could push the seat back further and have more leg room. You met Dean's eyes in the mirror and he gave you a smile and you were off. 

"You okay sweetheart?" Dean's voice pulled you from your thoughts almost two hours into your night. You had been sitting at the bar sipping your drink and watching the boys play darts. You hadn't noticed you were zoned out and they had stopped playing until he was standing next to you. Sam was watching cautiously from the other side of the bar.  "I haven't heard a peep out of you since we got here."

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About what?" You met his eyes in the mirror.

"Can't tell you...it's against the rules." He sighed and leaned in closer to you.

"Y/N...please, I'm begging you. Please just put it away for now." You didn't respond, instead, you hopped off of your stool, stomping towards the bathrooms. You shut the door and locked it behind you and took a few deep breaths. You were trying to save his life. He couldn't go back to being a demon. You and Sam...you wouldn't survive the loss. The two of them became your family and it was the first time in your life you felt like you belonged. You took a few more moments to compose yourself and you exited the bathroom to find Dean, arms crossed, waiting for you. You mirrored his stance, crossing your arms, one hip jutting you and you stared back at him. 

"You've got to let it go. You're driving yourself and Sam crazy with this white witch business. You're obsessed." 

"Of course I'm obsessed. I don't want to lose you. Just stop, okay?" You walked past him and headed out the back door to get some air. You really didn't feel like getting into a screaming match where anyone could hear. 

"Sweetheart, you're not going to. We'll figure this out, we always do." Dean was chasing after you. You spun to face him. 

"And with what consequences? I'm not letting Rowena anywhere near you. Not with her magic. You'll be the one that has to pay the price, and who's to say that price isn't worse than  the mark itself. And if we leave it? How long until you're completely a demon again and we can't get you back? Neither one of those are an option. Sam and I almost didn't survive this last time when you went off with Crowley. Neither one of us will if you fade on us again" You wiped a stray tear that slid down your cheek. Dean wiped the next one that fell, leaving his hand on your face and his thumb caressing your cheek. You didn't realize how close he was until you looked up and were staring directly into his green eyes. You felt your breath hitch. His intense stare left you feeling exposed. "Dean-" 

But before you could say anything further he was kissing you. You never realized how badly you wanted to kiss him until his lips were on yours. What started off as slow and sweet quickly turned needy and he had you pushed up against the building, one hand still on your face, the other in the back of your hair. You were breathless when he pulled you away.

"You don't understand. You're not going to lose me. I was keeping the mark in check before I was killed. The only reason why I went demon is because that's what saved my life. But now that you and Sam got my humanity back, it wont happen again. Don't you get it? You keep me here. You keep me here. You're the light through the darkness. I wont ever leave you. God, I love you, so much. I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much." Your eyes were wide.  "Say something...please." 

"I...I think I might love you too." He kissed you again.

"Hold me, don't let me go."  

You whispered. The two of you stood in an embrace for a long time until Sam came out when it was time to go home.

[bullets-and-masks]

Krieg’s Backstory: based on tips/missions/canon quotes

“Alright, y’all. Since This Post (by @necromorph-slayinglovemachine) is making some rounds, stating Krieg’s inner voice quote [ Where is she? Is she still alive? Did she get away?] refers to Dr. Samuels, the woman responsible for slag experimentations at the Exploitation Preserve, and I’m just gonna say: Yes, I agree. So, let’s explore that, and therefore the very possible option that Krieg became what he is at the Preserve, going through Quotes and game events.

In the DLC Sir Hammerlock vs the Son of Crawmerax has a optional mission called Victims of Vault Hunters, in which Sparky, the son of Captain Flynt, hires assassins to kills the Vault Hunters as a revenge plan. Each assassin is related to who the Vault Hunters are and whatever happened to them before Pandora or got them in the planet.

Here is Krieg’s assassin description: “At this point, Sparky’s hopes for victory have been dashed, but he reluctantly introduces Clements, a Hyperion scientist who wants Krieg.”

Sparky also says:  “Next guy, who's probably frigging dead already, is a Hyperion scientist named Clements. He wants Krieg cause you killed some dudes when you escaped or something. I don't even care at this point.”

Krieg’s assassin in a scientist, and it’s not clear wheter he plans on retrieving or killing the psycho. But, Clements is pointed as a Hyperion scientist, tying Krieg’s relation to Hyperion was one that has to do with science/research. The word escape also makes it clear he was a prisioner of Hyperion at some point, and the Hyperion facility we are aware that both holds prisioners and conducts experiments is the Wildlife Exploitation Preserve. (We’ll come back to this mission).

What works most about this assumption is Krieg’s very nature, design and skills: He is a borderlands psycho, bandits made crazy by experimentations. Badass pyschos themselves are a result of slag mutation, as Jack’s voiceover at the Preserve states:

“This is Handsome Jack, thanking you, loyal test subject, for helping bring Pandora into the future. The experiments you’ll be put through will help us uncover new uses for Eridium, new cures for medicine, and…why are you having me read this crap? They know we’re gonna mutate the hell out of them, why lie to - (static) “

This voiceline is furthered reinforced by a loader present at the preserve, made to greet the “volunteers” (subjects) that arrive there. Its quotes that prove slag, pyschos and mutations are all tied:

“Eridium injections may cause side effects such as gigantism, insanity, and excess limb syndrome.” All things seen both in psychos and rats - a name that could allude to them being lab rats.

“Thank you for open quotes volunteering closed quotes as a test subject at Hyperion Preserve. Do not attempt to leave the grounds.” Stating that people are capture to be subjected to slag experimentation.

“Do NOT touch the Eridium vats unless you have alerted a Hyperion technician first, preferably one with a camera.” Just furthering on that.

Krieg’s Mania Skill Tree also ends up with him assuming a badass pyscho form, confirming the possibility of him being a subject of slag experiments. Krieg’s design also counts with tubes going into his hand, or the protection on his arm, and wether this might not have anything to do with experimentation, it raises the question of why he needs it (if it’s a need) as well as the bigger filter present on his mask.

(image description: a turnaround of Krieg the Psycho from Borderlands 2, showcasing his design. He has orange pants, same as psychos - enemies from the game - a gas mask and bandages. He is shirtless, sporting only a harness that carries tubes that connect to his left arm. He’s holding his buzz axe, an weapon made of an axe with a buzzsaw as its head.)

What we have so far: Slag experimentation was done at the Exploitation Preserve. Said experiments resulted in psychos, among other kinds of bandits/enemies. Krieg is a psycho, and not only his design but his sent assassin and wanted poster alude to him being tired to a scientific branch of Hyperion, as property/prisioner. Dr. Samuels was a very relevant and active scientist in said experimentations, as proved by the Doctor’s Orders side quest given by Tannis.

Going into the Quote that started this all, let’s examine ALL his quotes pertaining women:

1.“ I can’t see her anymore… She was so clear and bright… but the blood is in my eyes, and now I can only watch the ocean of blood… Its waves crash against my forehead again and again, AND I JUST NEED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF!! “

2.You’re gonna scream, just like she did; open mouth, open heart, blood and noise forever piercing my skull, poisoning me with its psychopathic purple liquid. We watched it all, and felt the knife edge split down the middle… CAN YOU HEAR ME?!

3.“I’ll never forget the way her holes cried… The way she screamed in agony as she pushed the knife slowly into my sternum... Such a beautiful symphony of feelings, and at the end of it, she was so much greater! My operatic diva of flesh and steel!! “

4.“ (On your feet, she might still be out there.)”

5.“(Where is she? Is she still alive? Did she get away?)”

6.THE TINY ONE AND THE SAD-FACED MOTHER AND THE BLUE TATTOO FOREVER AND EVER! (when Moxxi asks about a mister-or-missus Vault Hunter in Krieg’s life during the Mad Moxxi and the Wedding Day Massacre DLC )

Quote 01, 02 and 03: 01: It’s unclear the context or identity of Her. It’s possible to presume there’s more than women being referred to in all quotes, but at the same time, although only a pronoum is used, it seems to be used as the closest he can to a name. 02: Pyschopathic purple liquid: Slag. It’s unclear hear if Krieg thinks about someone that was also experimented on, or along with him. 03. her holes cried: eyes, actual crying. The screams in agony could be or not an exaggeration; but the important here is that we are aware Samuels was threated, via her wife’s life, to work on the subjects, as she did not want to. By the ECHOs during Doctor’s Orders, Samuels sounded very humane, and it’s fair to believe she’d suffer having to do this. 02 and 03: Both “knife edge split down the middle” and “my operatic diva of flesh and still” could be interpreted as alluding to the birth and inspiration of a second personality, one that thrives in pain and slag - outter Krieg. Quote 04: It’s extremely unclear what happens to Samuels, but Doctor’s Orders alludes to her possible death in the explosion caused by Tiny Tina for her escape. However, there’s solid evidence pointing she’s alive (we’ll come back to this.) It’s therefore possible Krieg believes so, and would like to find her. As a familiar face? For revenge? To thank her or just check on her? Hard to know. But as the inner voice seems to have strong morals about who to kill, and seems not to resent her, it’s safe to assume a darker opition is less likely. Quote 05: As stated previously and in the other post; Krieg worries about her. He got away from the Preserve and would like Samuels to have gotten out too. Quote 06: Finally, with couple with 02 and 03, it’s possible to read “sad faced mother” as Samuels, as she’d be sad about the situation every human is at at the Preserve, and technically, because she’d be the operator during the slag experiments, the “mother” of the Outter Krieg personality. It’s important to note this quote is Outter Krieg’s, and that the outside personality seems to have clearer access to memories, or at the very least try to stop Inside Krieg from remembering. Now, what’d I say we’d go back to Samuel’s possibility of being alive, and the Victims of Vault Hunter’s mission? Well, the mission goes as follow: The Vault Hunter tries to track the assassins hired by Sparky, only to find one dead after another, all killed by assassins’ assassins related to the Vaulties somehow. Each “savior” leaves a message, and Krieg’s reads: “Krieg: (reading) SALUTATIONS PSYCHOMAN I’M SORRY AS A SLICE WOUND SINCERELY SAMMY “ Samuels is also known as Sammy, as she’s called this by Jack during the ECHOS.  This can be read as Samuels looking out for Krieg, and making so he’s not taken back by Hyperion and has a chance to live a good life. Not only that, but when Krieg finds Clement’s corpse during the Victim’s of Vault Hunter’s mission, he says:  ”HE WAS THERE FOR THE BIRTHING! HE BROUGHT THEM INTO THE METAL FUN PALACE SO SHE COULD START THE PARTY!” He being Clements, and the birthing, as we discussed, being the rise of Outter Krieg. A Metal Fun Palace can be a cage, but we can go bigger and see it as the preserve. Finally, interpreting She as Sammuels, we can infer that Clements was an assistant or colleague of hers.  So far: Krieg is a psycho, made so by slag experimentations at the preserve, performed by Doctor Samuels (forced to). Samuels is alive and watches his back, Krieg believes she’s alive too and would like to find her, and that Hyperion could still be trying to retrieve Krieg. Finally, specially while being revived, Krieg has Quotes that can be interpreted as him not knowing exactly the difference between pain and care anymore, specially because they’re all quotes from the Outter Krieg, someone “born” from being hurt by a woman that possibly tried her best to be kind, or showed kindness while hurting him at the same time. They also seem to make it clear he might equal pain to something good. Being revived: “What’re you doing to me?!“ “Why aren’t you stabbing me?” “Somebody still cares?” Salt the Wound (a skill) stacks: “Hurt me more!”

“It hurts, HAHAHAHAHA! IT HURTS!!” “Pain is LIFE!!”

Among many others.

The last important point is this quote: “ Yes, make them pay for what they did to us…”said by Inner Krieg during killing multiple enemies, which could be a hint about him having been sold by bandits as where Tiny Tina’s parents.

In Conclusion / TL; DR: Krieg’s backstory is about him being captured by Hyperion or bandits, and becoming a test subject for slag experimentation at the Exploitation Preserve. There, he build trust and care towards Doctor Samuels, that though was the one to coordinate or perform experiments; didn’t want to, being as kind as possible in the situation. The experimentations split Krieg’s mind into two, the Outter, psychotic Krieg possibly considering Samuels a mother of sorts.

Fun facts:

Krieg has a voiceline where he mentions Hera, possibly another planet. Wheter he was just an intergalatic traveler or from Hera is unclear.

Inner Krieg uses “us” to refer to himself and Outter Krieg, making it clear he separated both.

Writer Anthony Burch has described Krieg’s psychosis as a man driving an out of control truck: He cannot stop the truck, but he can try and steer it away from as many innocents as possible.

Although it was a fan-favorite theory; it has been debunked that Krieg is Tiny Tina’s dad. 

Krieg’s reaction to hearing about the Son of Crawmerax is something along the lines of “What?! I do not have a son!” (I can’t find a transcript of this one but I literally just played it) hinting that perhaps Krieg indeed does not have kids, though it’s unclear if this is just Outter Krieg blocking out memories

This is possible and noticeable on this quote:  inner: (I'm beginning to remember...) outter: Stop it, keep the memories down with a knife in its throat, slash it until it bleeds thought juice across the dirt and it's absorbed into nothingness... Personal Headcanons:

Considering only his canon Quotes - the ones that are not references or fourth wall breaks - is notable that Krieg has a vast vocabulary, and I believe he can grow to rearange the words and communicate better.

The “she” mentioned could also be two people - perhaps Samuels and a woman important to him, taken to be experimented on too

Raving Retribution skill could be named after revenge for said woman Anyway, that’s it! There’s probably a lot more, a lot wrong, who knows, but I couldn’t help myself, Let me know your takes and what you think! And sorry for the english y’all, brazilian here.

[margridarnauds]

3, 4, 12, and 27 for any Celtic or Arthurian ship (go wild with 'em!)

It is a fact universally acknowledged that I am A Soft Bitch. Also it has been SO LONG since I’ve dipped my toes into Arthuriana.  

(Sorry it took me so long; I had a Fourth of July dinner to go to and then afterwards I was so exhausted by people asking me about the drinking opportunities available in Ireland because obviously that’s why I’ve spent five years of my life dedicated to the field, amiright? + getting stung by fire ants because fuck Florida that I had to take a long freaking nap.) 

3. Who is the most romantic?

Bres/Sreng

I think that they actually both are, it’s just...how they express it. 

Sreng tends to be slightly blunter as far as he feels, he tends to show his affection for Bres via being a rock for him when he needs it most. He helps Bres with the children, he distracts him when the pressures of being with the Fomorians and the diplomatic hot potato get to be too much for him, he’s the one who Bres vents to when his father is being difficult on something, he tries to find ways to visit Bres whenever he can. He was the one in the tent with Bres when the news about Ruadan’s death came, he was the one who held Bres throughout the night as he SOBBED into Sreng’s last good cloak. 

Bres on the other hand is slightly less big on ACTIONS; it would be really, really easy for an outside observer to think that he’s less invested in the relationship. The truth is that he’s just as invested as Sreng is, if not more. He just tends to show it via, for example, curling up with Sreng’s cloak when he’s not there or being the one to take his hand when they’re in bed together, running his fingers along Sreng’s knuckles. 

Bres’ private space is very important to him, it’s part of why the Tuatha dé and he never really CLICKED, because the king of the Tuatha dé needed to be...well...an extrovert, someone who can host lavish feasts, someone who can humor everyone in the hall while maintaining the social order, and the longer that Bres stood in the kingship, the more he grew to despise everyone there. But Sreng is allowed IN there, he can go to Bres’ quarters with no problem, he can dine with Bres privately and Bres is perfectly at ease with him, he can share Bres’ living space to the extent that Bres tends to use him as a pillow. Also: Bres totally dotes on him and occasionally slips him a new gold neck-ring when he’s not looking. Because Sreng would be too proud for it normally but Bres can’t stand to see his decline. Which is big for Bres, given how we KNOW how stingy he was with the Tuatha dé. 

You know that if he’d won he would have totally spoiled Sreng. If that Fir Bolg wanted ANYTHING, he would have had it. It’s hard to use the term “consort” because the Medieval Irish were so BIG on marriage = children as a concept, but...Sreng would have been Bres’ nearest, dearest companion that he lavished attention on. Which would have rubbed salt on the Tuatha dé’s wounds even more. 

Mordred/Galahad 

Galahad. He has VERY high ideals of love and how it should be expressed, and so he’s constantly trying to court Mordred in the most courtly way he possibly can. Which is massively confusing to Mordred because he has no idea what to DO but...well...it’s nice. At least, once he realizes that Galahad id 100% serious. At first, he laughs about it with his brothers, but then as time goes on, he realizes that he LIKES it. (Namely when Galahad’s away on a quest at one point and suddenly Mordred doesn’t have that attention anymore.) Mordred is more the “I happened to find this by the side of the road, but don’t think that I LIKE you” type. 

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Bres/Sreng

...Bres. Bres is just...Bres. He can’t keep his hands to himself and he will make bad jokes the entire time in his attempt to be smooth. He deeply enjoys trying to find excuses to touch Sreng whenever they are at a feast together. This drives Sreng absolutely batty since there’s really nothing that he can do to reciprocate when they’re in front of some of THE MOST POWERFUL FOMORIAN NOBILITY TO EXIST and Bres is behaving very casually, making pleasant conversation and Oh, Queen Cethlenn, is that a new silk dress? I hadn’t noticed it before while he raises his goblet at Sreng. Sreng always takes his revenge in the end, waiting until they have at least a sliver of privacy before pinning Bres against the nearest hard surface and kissing him absolutely senseless. Which was totally Bres’s intended purpose.

Mordred/Galahad

In general, Mordred, despite often seeming aloof. Mordred is very, very handsy with his boyfriend because, even though he won’t ADMIT it, the boy’s touch starved, and Galahad is endlessly compassionate when it comes to that. Though Galahad DID get tipsy once and was, as it turns out, a very affectionate drunk, which gave Mordred fuel to tease him for WEEKS. (And the rest of Camelot tbh. Given that we know that they are not above roasting someone given Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.) Galahad can’t enter the Great Hall without blushing for ages. Mordred tells him that his father’s done far, far worse in his time. 

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

It’s odd with them because their bond’s been intense since the first time they met. They just had one of those instant connections, so in some ways them finally going from friends to lovers...wasn’t THAT big of a step, because they always were serious. Their meeting is actually really, really unusual in terms of how two champions from opposite sides GENERALLY interact in-text, given that they both are on such good terms with one another and they STAY on good terms with one another even after everything happens. No, this did not feature in my undergrad Capstone in any way, what would give you that idea? 

I think that Bres is really, really surprised that Sreng stays by his side after their reunion. He puts on this very confident front, but privately, he puts a lot of his self identity on his looks. And when they went with Cairpre’s satire, that was a HUGE blow mentally and physically, even before it touches how it affects his kingship. He knew on some level that Sreng was interested in him, but they’d left things at a confusing place. So, he didn’t think that Sreng would keep an interest in him when his looks were marred, Sreng didn’t think that he had ANY interest in him...it’s a mess. And both of them still kind of think that the other’s going to change their mind at any given time even after they begin the process of clearing things up, not the least because neither one of them have really ever been in a place of stability in their lives. 

But then, it’s a month onwards, then it’s a year, then it’s two years, and both of them are still there, and it’s just like “Oh. This is a Thing” and there’s just this general feeling of security that starts to creep in. And, gradually, their lives just kind of naturally intersect. Both of them interact with one another regularly, both of them know each other’s families (regrettably, in Sreng’s case, given that he is the founding member of the Elatha Hate Club, even though he does love Bres’ children dearly), both of them have stuff over at the other one’s place. In the modern day, it would be painfully obvious that they were a couple, but since it IS this time, everyone else thinks They’re Just Good Friends, because that’s how good friends ARE at this point in time. Except for Lugh, who post-Cath Maige Tuired firmly believes that Bres is The Actual Devil and that Sreng and he have some sort of devious plan to take Ireland back. 

Mordred/Galahad

For once, they stop thinking about their respective destinies as much. 

Like, don’t get me wrong, in Galahad’s case in PARTICULAR, his eventual destiny is something that’s ALWAYS at the back of his mind, because he’s spent literally his ENTIRE CHILDHOOD being told that. We do not discuss the truly endless depth of my hatred for his mother and grandfather for THAT ONE + their treatment of Lancelot. 

And for Mordred, I think that on some level, there’s just this resignation that he’s going to be the villain, he’s going to kill Arthur one day, he’s going to be Evil™. He’s known that since he got the prophecy, and I tend to see him as having this “Then let me BE evil” moment after he murders the old priest and then Lancelot, the knight who he’d IDOLIZED and probably had a little bit of a crush on, tries to kill him. And that’s why he tends to see all the bad in Camelot, because it makes it that much easier to bring it all down. 

But, for a little while, there’s this period of time where they have the luxury of thinking about something outside of their fates, they can have a LIFE that’s theirs, without worrying about the future. It’s one of those things that they don’t even really NOTICE until it’s like “Wait, I haven’t thought about my tragic but inevitable death for a month now, where’s the time gone?” 

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

Bres has FRIENDS? 

Alright, alright, that’s probably a little cruel, but...Well, he doesn’t really HAVE anyone. I tend to HC that Sreng’s brothers don’t really understand the relationship AT ALL and tend to view Bres as The Tuath Dé Who Shamelessly Seduced Their Brother (If you ask Bres, HE’LL say that it was the other way around, if you ask Sreng, he’ll just shrug because honestly to this day he has no idea how he scored Bres.)  

Tailtiu thinks that Sreng is essentially tying himself to a sinking ship. (Which...is she WRONG?) And Bres’ presence is basically a gigantic wedge between Sreng and Lugh being Bros™, which would obviously be Tailtiu’s endgame of choice. That, and Bres did. Kind of. Try to kill her former husband. Even though he had a Very, Very Good Reason for it at the time. Still. That has to sting a little. 

Elatha REALLY doesn’t like Sreng or the relationship, because he views it as a Distraction™ (that, and he doesn’t understand the appeal. If his son’s going to throw everything out on the line for someone, couldn’t it have been someone better, more attractive, more witty, less blunt? Someone that he could bend to his own ends), but he also knows that he has to tacitly allow it to continue, because he does NOT want to deal with the fallout. (Not even from Bres. Oh no, there’s a bigger threat to be considered. Eriu. Who is Very Happy That Her Boy’s Found Someone To Make Him Happy and won’t hear a bad word against Sreng, who she considers to be A Very Nice Boy. If she were a modern mom, she totally would be knitting Sreng a Christmas sweater while they speak and asking them when the wedding was even before either one of them had really THOUGHT of proposing.) 

Bríg does NOT like Sreng at all, not necessarily because of personal jealousy (she never really loved Bres, he never really loved her, even though there was a definite possibility that they could have loved one another in the early days), but because of the Nuada Incident. She doesn’t really understand why Bres would spend so much time with him when he’s The Enemy, and he’s a Fir Bolg so he’s inherently lesser than the Tuatha dé anyway. 

Bres’ brothers don’t really understand it either. Over 3000 years in and the Dagda STILL thinks that Bres’ problem is that he doesn’t get laid enough and that if Bres would just get away from That Fir Bolg... (If only he knew, if only he knew.)

Meanwhile, the Fomorian lords, sans Elatha, are more or less completely oblivious. Tethra might have a better idea than the others, but does he care? Nope. He’s not overly invested in this whole thing anyway. He’s got his own issues at home to take care of, thank you VERY much. He participates in the raids because he has to dole out the loot to his men the same as anyone else, but he’s not INVESTED in it. It’s a necessary part of maintaining his kingship, nothing more. Sreng isn’t overly fond of them because he considers them to be essentially a snakepit of intrigue and corruption that will stab the two of them in the back at their earliest opportunity and he’s not wrong for the most part, though the one thing I WILL emphasize is that it’s not because they’re Fomorians, it’s that they’re...well, medieval kings, but they have a decent enough working relationship because they both hate the Tuatha dé’s guts. 

Mordred/Galahad 

Agrap-Agravaine tends to be annoyed that his brother’s spending all his time with someone who’s such a goody two shoes. Mordred and he have always been the closest in terms of age and personality, and suddenly he’s no longer Mordred’s Favorite. 

I actually think that Morgause would like Galahad? She’s definitely very, very pro-her sons being happy in Le Morte d’Arthur and Good Mom Morgause is a hill that I’m willing to die on. Because fuck T.H White. I do think it would be a little strange, to say the least, given that obviously Galahad is staunchly religious whereas I don’t REALLY see Morgause having that same bent. Morgause just...lives her own life, regardless of what society says, and I think she would have some trouble understanding why her son would go for someone like that when he’s HIM. But I do think that for the most part, she would just be thrilled that Mordred has someone who he’s devoted to given that he’s REALLY not been OK since That One Quest With Lancelot. 

ANY of Galahad’s friends tend to be annoyed at Mordred simply for the fact that Mordred is...Mordred. He doesn’t have the best reputation for a REASON, and it’s very, very dissonance inducing to see the two of them constantly in one another’s presence, even though they try to frame it in terms of Mordred being a charity case of Galahad's.

And Lancelot obviously hates Mordred because he knows of The Prophecy™. He is NOT pleased by this turn of events, and it goes way beyond “annoyance.” 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: The Beginning of Wisdom - Chapter 13 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Leonard Snart (Len) & Leonard Snart (Leo), Len Snart/Mick Rory, Leo Snart/Mick Rory, Len Snart/Mick Rory/Leo Snart, Leo Snart/Ray Terrill, Len Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: In which Leonard Snart is twins.

(the life and times and loves of Len and Leo Snart)

—————————————————————————————————–

Leo did end up shipping the metas – sans Nimbus, who as predicted ended up trying to murder someone immediately after being released and who Len disposed of via applied cold gun and some minor philosophical deal-related disputes with Barry – to Paris as part of his tech crew, a situation absolutely none of them had any objection to.

Mick accompanied him to protect him and keep an eye on him, but his watchfulness was probably unnecessary – the whole lot of them were far too starry-eyed to make any real threats.

While they were on the plane, private and chartered because Leo needed all that space to carry all of his gowns and shoes and accessories, they even had a conversation that sealed the deal: apparently, it was their first visit to Paris. Or outside of the state borders at all, for that matter.

"It's a great city, you'll love it," Leo assured them.

"How do you do it?" Bivolo asked, playing with one of the tiny salt shakers he’d received along with his airplane meal. "Thief, supervillain and fashion designer..."

"I work a lot," Leo said. They had very much opted not to tell anyone else about themselves – Barry was an exception under the newly established 'want to date' rule. "Sometimes, it almost feels as if I'm in two places at once."

"You broke us out, and now you're giving us a trip to Paris and cover jobs that will pay us," Mardon said, sounding suspicious. "What's in all this for you?"

"Well, I always appreciate a thank you."

"So you've said," Baez said dryly, but for all her cynicism she'd been the most wide-eyed with wonder at the suggestion of Paris, and she couldn't stop fingering the sequined dress on the hanger next to her seat.

"Also, if you ever come back to Central City, you owe me one," Leo said. "I've got plans to give the Flash a real challenge with my very own Rogues Gallery."

"The Rogues," Bivolo said. "Nice. I like it."

"Feel free to say no, of course, but – would it be possible – I mean – just if it’s not a bother – but – I don’t know – could I try on one of the dresses?" Baez asked shyly. “Just once?”

"Not these ones, for risk of tearing, but if you like, I think I have a sample jumpsuit from last season you could probably fit into," Leo offered. "It has multiple points of light from built-in battery – I was doing a light-related superhero theme –"

"That would be amazing."

“I’ll give it to you to keep if you agree to pretend to be a scholarship art student that I’m sponsoring.”

Baez blinked. “Uh, sure. I mean, I was studying medicine, not art, but I can fake art, no problem. Why?”

“I’ve been dying to convince the tabloids that I’m cheating on my husband,” Leo said with a shrug. “It’s good free publicity, but they just won’t damn bite.”

“Can I volunteer for that job?” Bivolo asked, half-jokingly. “If I get an outfit out of it…”

“If you’re serious about that offer, I will happily trade couture outfits for tabloid fodder. Paris loves a scandal, and a bisexual one is even better.”

Leo conveyed the entire conversation to Len in text, complete with emojis, smug with the knowledge that he was entirely doing his part of this particular job.

Len rolled his eyes – he, for one, did not see the appeal of appearing in French tabloids as anything other than "Mysterious Man Disappears With Priceless Treasure" – but with the question of whether the metas would become violent settled, he was now satisfied that Leo would be just fine.

He knew very well that joining a fashion show wasn’t just fun and games and indulgence: Leo would run each one of the 'rescued' metas absolutely ragged until they had no time to think, and they'd thank him for the privilege.

Len, in the meantime, had other work to do.

"All right, Scarlet," he said, walking into STAR Labs. "Metas are all taken care of and Lisa, Mick and I are escorting them on their way out of the city already. In the meantime, what can I do to help with your evil speedster doctor?"

Sounded like a nightmare, put like that. Sure, it'd be a help to doing surgery, but the amount a doc like that could screw a guy up from the inside...

"Wait," Barry said. "Which 'I' are you?"

"The one standing in front of you," Len replied, with some amusement. "Obviously."

"No, I mean – you said 'Lisa, Mick, and I' when you were talking about – him."

Len shrugged. "It sounds less weird than saying Leonard Snart like I'm talking in third person."

Barry clearly had more questions.

"Maybe now isn't the time?" Len suggested. "After we beat your evil guy, you can come over and ask all the questions you like."

"Including about your crush?" Barry asked, trying for brazen but underselling it by blushing.

Len smirked. "Including that, yes."

"Okay," Barry said. "So the plan right now is that we’re going to set up an ambush for evil Wells, calling in all of our allies – you guys, us, our friends from Starling, Firestorm –"

“Firestorm?”

“Yeah, it’s two people who join together to light on fire; I’ll introduce you.”

“What is with all of these light-themed superheroes?” Len complains. “I feel like we’re starting to repeat on a theme.”

“Cold – Snart – Len. Focus.”

The plan to capture the bad guy, much to Len's surprise, actually worked.

He'd really been expecting something a little less, well, anti-climactic – it was the final boss battle! Surely –!

But nope. They all gathered up, they found the individual in question, they captured him.

Of course, once Wells (Thawne? Eobard?) was locked away, he sold the whole team a boatload of crap about saving Barry Allen's mother from being murdered via time travel, which would also conveniently allow him to go back to his own original time period, the existence of which he'd been using to justify murdering people in this time period.

Apparently people’s lives didn’t matter if they were historical figures?

Len’s not even trying to figure out that logic.

"Uh, no," Len said when Barry asked his opinion. "Obviously you shouldn't do it."

Barry blinked owlishly at him. "What?"

"...is that not the answer everyone has been giving you?"

"No," Barry said. "They all said they couldn't make the decision for me and it was up to me."

"Well, that's crap," Len said.

"Why shouldn't I do it, then?"

"I have a whole list," Len said. "Starting, first and foremost, with the fact that it's obviously a trap –"

"I don't think it is," Barry said. "He sincerely wants to go back to his time. It's what he's been building towards this entire time."

"Yes, about that," Len said. "Why is it that you're okay with illegally and indefinitely imprisoning people whose biggest crime is aiding and abetting Grade B theft – not even committing Grade B theft, just aiding and abetting – but somehow the multiple murderer that killed your mother gets freedom and everything he wants?"

"It's not that –"

"It really is, Scarlet."

"I have a chance to save my mother from being murdered, Snart!"

Len shrugged. He didn't expect the existence, or lack thereof, of one Nora Allen to affect his own life in the slightest – he never did interact much with people from the fancier suburbs other than steal from them, and Barry's family wasn't rich enough to interest him – so he didn't really have a dog in this race other than disliking the unsatisfactory narrative it created.

"How much of your life will you miss?" he asked instead.

"What?"

"Well," Len said. "You became a CSI because of what happened to your mom, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you lived with the pig and Iris, right?"

"His name is Joe, you know."

"Sure, Joe 'Pig' West –" Barry rolled his eyes. "– but that's not the point. Would you say he taught you anything? Excluding morality, of course; can't teach what you don't have."

"Of course he taught me stuff," Barry said, pointedly ignoring that last part. "He practically raised – oh. I think I see what you’re saying."

"Imagine a world without your friends," Len suggested. "Without your powers. Without your job. A world where you, yourself, are an entirely different person, because you don't have any of the memories that make you who you are – do you think Leo and I are the same person? Now that you've spent some time with us, I mean."

Barry blinked, clearly taken aback by the seeming non-sequitur. "No," he said. "Not at all, even though you make it confusing sometimes with the way you talk about yourselves. He's – uh – would it be weird to say that he's too nice to be you?"

Len tried to hide a smirk. "A bit of a misreading of his personality, but I get what you mean."

"No, I'm not saying it right," Barry said, shaking his head. "He's – I knew lots of people like him in school. Nice, friendly, and they'll forget about you the second you turn away. And understanding! Ugh, they're so understanding that you just want to scream – uh. Not Leo, I mean, just, you know –"

"I know," Len said. "School traumatizes us all in different ways. So we're not the same?"

"No," Barry said firmly. "Not at all. Leo's too, well, too nice; I could like him, but I probably wouldn't be friends with him – not proper ride-or-die friends –"

Leo wasn't ride-or-die for anyone but Len, Lisa, Mick, and maybe – maybe – Ray, so that was fair.

"And anyway, I don't like him the way I like –" Barry fell quiet and turned red.

Len grinned. "That's okay," he said. "I like you, too."

Barry turned even more red.

"But do you get the point I was trying to make?"

Barry blinked at him.

"Imagine a universe where there was just one of me," Len said. "And in that universe, there were a certain set of life experiences that would make me, me, and another set of life experiences that make Leo, Leo. But in that universe, there aren't two of us – there's just one. And what set of experiences I live makes me into either Len or Leo."

Barry nodded slowly. "So if I change my past –"

"You could go from being your own version of Len to being your own version of Leo."

"But I remember what happens when I time travel," Barry protested.

"So you'd be a Len in a Leo's world," Len said with a shrug. "Even worse: all your friends would expect you to act like someone who grew up with two loving parents, you'd never be able to be yourself or talk to anyone or explain your phobias, they'd think you'd gone crazy from the personality change –"

Barry shuddered. "What if my memories do change?"

"Then the person you are now is dead, and a new person gets the life you've always wanted," Len told him. "All this, of course, assuming that you saving your mom back when you were eleven doesn't remove your powers and strand you in the past, like, say, another interfering-in-the-proper-course-of-time speedster we know of..."

Barry winced.

"This is literally a no-win scenario, Scarlet," Len said firmly. "You do this, then the guy who ruined your life gets everything he's always wanted and you get either dead and replaced, stuck in a world that doesn't fit you, or stuck in the past. And all that's before your speedster buddy has enough time in the future to come back and try to kill you like he did the first time around –"

"I still have to try," Barry whispered. "I have to see her."

Len shrugged a second time and watched him go.

And then he picked up his cold gun and made his way towards STAR Labs.

He was familiar with this, after all; Leo also had trouble making the hard choices like this, the ones with loss and risk. Leo was good at emotions – Len was good at ruthlessness. He'd learned how to kill, over the years, watched it get easier and easier; he could do this for Barry, now.

Because as far as Len was concerned, this Eobard Thawne wasn't making his Back to the Future dream come true – even if Len had to ice the speedster himself to make sure of it.

"Snart?" Cisco asked, even as Joe put his hand on his gun. His partner-cop – who looked traumatized – and pretty little Iris were there, too, holding hands and looking exhausted. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help," Len lied. "Didn't Barry tell you I was coming?"

Yes, he put a little stress on the word 'Barry'. Len fully acknowledged that he was an asshole like that.

"He must have forgotten," Caitlin said with a sigh. "I don't know what help you can offer, though; he's going to be making the attempt momentarily. He’s in the Particle Accelerator right now, with Wells – uh, Thawne – er, Eobard Thawne, he’s there, too, in his time ship."

"In that case, I'll just watch for now," Len said.

"Brave of you," Snow said. She was a lot snippier now that she wasn't being kidnapped.

"Why?" Len asked, frowning. "Is there a risk? Barry didn't mention."

They all exchanged glances.

"Tell me," Len demanded, his voice going hard. "Now."

"Well, it's probably not going to happen –"

"I didn't ask for your analysis," Len said. "Tell me the risk."

"We don't have to listen to you –" Caitlin started.

"If this goes wrong, it could open up a black hole," Cisco said all in a rush.

"Cisco!"

"What?! It's true! And he's scary!"

"Hold up," Len said, starting to get really angry now. As always, his voice remained steady and even, but despite that he thought that they might have gotten the idea, because everyone in the room exchanged alarmed looks. "Are you telling me that Scarlet is doing something that might help his own life personally, even knowing at the risk of putting everyone else on earth in danger?"

"It's not like that!" Iris exclaimed.

"Uh," Cisco said.

"The chance is miniscule, right?" Joe asked. His hand was on his gun again, and he was glaring at Len like he thought it might solve all his problems to shoot him now.

Typical pig.

He'd better not even think the phrase "officer involved" shootings, because Len could outdraw him any day.

"Yeah, super small," Cisco said hastily, looking relieved. "Really, really small."

"Tell me," Len said. His voice is still very even. "Greater or smaller chance of the Accelerator blowing up the first time it turned on? No, wait, of the Accelerator blowing up – due to intentional sabotage - because of the identity theft of the creator - by a time-traveller with super powers - for the specific purpose of giving someone else a specific set of superpowers – so that he could use him as a living battery in his souped-up Mandalorian?!"

"It's a time bubble ship," Cisco muttered, but his face had gone pale.

"We're not talking about that," Len snapped. "Tell me, what are the chances of that, which we all know actually happened, compared to Barry literally destroying the world in a fit of selfish assholery?"

"You don't –" Joe started.

"Shut up, hypocritical pig," Len said harshly. "No one wants to hear your opinion."

Joe puffed up. Predictable.

"Has Barry reported you yet?" Len asked before Joe had a chance to start yelling.

Sure enough, that stopped Joe flat.

"What?" the partner-cop asked. "Report Joe for what?"

"Illegal imprisonment without a trial or a warrant," Len said. "Human trafficking, at least attempted. Conspiracy to hide an ongoing crime from the police – should I go on?"

Joe's face flushed.

"But –" Partner-cop started, then he stopped, clearly reviewing. "Under the circumstances –"

"No man's above the law," Len said. "Barry agreed to report you to somebody up your chain as part of our little deal. Might not do anything, what with the CCPD's usual lax standards, but at least it'll be down on paper forever that you did it. You do remember that, right, the whole incident that happened within the last 24 hours or so, where a convicted criminal had to free the prisoners you were keeping here – in solitary confinement, I hear – torture –"

"We didn't torture them!" Cisco exclaimed.

"You know solitary confinement with no exercise is literally torture, right?" Len asked him.

Cisco flushed.

"You're all as criminal as I am; you’re just too self-righteous to admit it," Len said, rolling his eyes. "But we can deal with that later. Where – ah, there."

He marched up to the microphone, with no one stopping him. "Barry Allen," he said harshly. "You had better stop what you're doing right now –"

"It's too late," Cisco said. "I'm sorry. He's already running too fast for him to hear you."

Len snarled soundlessly. "Well," he said. His voice was still steady, he was pleased to note, no matter how ticked he was getting. "Who's going to show me to the Accelerator so that I can slow him down?"

He put his hand on his cold gun.

Silence for a long moment.

"I will," Iris finally said.

"Iris, no!" Joe exclaimed.

"Shut up, Dad," she snapped. She seemed extremely angry, though her eyes with a bit glassy with tears. "I was willing to forgive you for lying to me about the whole Flash thing for months, but I never thought – I never – I wouldn't – damnit, Dad, this is bullshit, and moreover, this is bullshit you should have told me about." She glared at all of them. "You all should have known better."

With that, she turned and walked out.

Len followed.

"I'm going to forgive them eventually," Iris said conversationally when they got to the end of the hallway. "So don't think you can use this against me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Len said. "Don't actually care about you all that much, to be honest."

She snorted. "Thanks," she said, but she sounded sincere. "That makes you the only person who didn't immediately decide that you could make decisions on my behalf."

"Including Barry?"

"Oh, definitely including Barry," she said. "He wanted to tell me, but Dad made him promise not to because knowing might 'put me in danger'."

"More or less danger than he was allowing his foster kid to get into actually fighting as a vigilante?"

"Don't get me started on the misogyny of it all," Iris said. "I'm well aware of it. And I'm still angry at him. And at Barry."

"I'm pissed at him, too," Len agreed. "He didn't tell me all the risks of this process or I would've tied him up and kept him away."

"Speedsters can vibrate through rope, you know; that's why we kept Wells in the Accelerator."

"I'd find a way," Len said. "He's enough of an idiot that something could be devised."

"I feel like I shouldn't be agreeing with you," Iris mused. "But yeah, Barry kind of is an idiot sometimes."

"I can't believe I'm going to sleep with him," Len agreed. He rather liked that meme; he'd never thought he'd have a chance to use it in real life.

"Yeah, I – wait, what?"

"As soon as this is over," Len said. He still liked Barry, after all. Len acknowledged he was being something of an idiot, continuing to like Barry despite it all, but he didn’t let people into his heart easily – and once he did, he was stuck. Just like he was stuck now. "Assuming he doesn't destroy the world, of course."

Iris had a hilarious expression on her face.

Then, a moment later, she started laughing. “You know what,” she said. “You know what? Good for Barry. You’re really hot. You may even be hotter than Oliver Queen.”

“I’m cool, not hot,” Len said, waving his gun in the air a bit. “Though I agree with the second half of your statement.”

“That you’re hotter than Oliver Queen?”

“I hear he’s a cold fish,” Len said in his best deadpan.

Iris started laughing almost right away, which meant she got the joke. “That’s awful,” she giggled. “He just got rescued from his boat accident –”

“It’s been years.”

“Still. Too soon.”

“You assume I care.”

Iris shook her head. “Go and stop our lovable idiot, why don't you,” she said, nodding at the doorway.

Len looked at it – there were sparks visible around the sides – and pulled out a handgun with his free hand, offering it to Iris. “Know how to use this?”

“Cop kid,” Iris said, accepting it and checking it expertly. “Of course I do. But why..?”

“I was a cop kid, too,” Len said. “It doesn’t mean crap. You can be my back-up.”

Iris blinked. “Me? But – Barry –”

“I’m going to try to stop Barry from breaking time with his run,” Len said. “How do you think ol’ Eobard’s going to feel about that? Remember, he’s in there, too.”

Her face settles into a grimly determined expression. “Got it.”