#it's like when the queen died and a bunch of people were like 'BUT IT'S SAD WHEN ANYONE DIES'

[thedreadvampy]

Ok so it sounds like rather than dying in a nightmarish waiting game the 5 richos died too suddenly to even be aware it was happening. which being the case can we Please stop acting like this is a bigger tragedy than shit that happens every day to Not Rich people who didn't bring this entirely on themselves?

not even just talking about the thousands of people regularly dying unjustly in the Mediterranean and the Channel because of hostile anti-refugee policies but like. it's 5 people bro. 5 people die preventable deaths every like. minute. and most of them aren't their own fucking fault or nearly as laden with irony.

keep seeing people posting the Against The Logic Of The Guillotine article about this. bro I didn't fucking kill them they killed themselves despite plenty of opportunities to not do that. nobody's doing bloody vengeance here rich people are offing themselves in an incredibly stupid and predictable way. this isn't lining your enemies up for the guillotine it's your enemies deciding they have to pay more money than most of us will ever see a fraction of for the thrill of getting a guillotine haircut and everyone's like 'you know this will kill you right? but they laugh it off, get up and pull the string themselves and their last words are 'haha wow it's so stupid that people tried to stop me getting a revolutionary haircut.' and then when you say 'holy shit what an idiotic thing to do' someone's like CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WANT TO EXECUTE MILLIONS. I don't know how to explain to you that abstract schadenfreude isn't the same thing as revenge.

[darkmatilda]

𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you thought that after a certain misunderstanding, your relationship had taken on a purely platonic and friendly form but then the investigation sent you to the freezing wilderness of alaska, where every night you find warmth in his bed.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!bau reader, the same reader as in my story "the bolter" but it's not necessary to read it before! there are no major references, but people who have read it might treat this as a continuation (if they want to). in this story, we still have our wonderful queen elle greenaway, gideon and morgan, and many of my attempts (not always successful) at being funny. mostly smut with A LOT of plot, description of the case, oral (f receiving) and some much actions but described in a subtle way. a little bit of angst, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't add some. again, GLASSES REID!!

𝐚/𝐧: first fic at the beginning of the month, i really wanted to post it today. i think it's time to start posting christmas-themed works? would you be interested? by the way, i hope december will treat you kind <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

“I’m freezing, God, I’m freezing.”

“Me too, look how I’m shaking, I swear, one more hour and my feet will fall off, and then my toes…”

“Guys, for god’s sake!” Morgan finally spoke up, his voice tinged with impatience. The hood of his waterproof, windproof jacket covered almost half of his face, and even so, he was clearly the lightest dressed of all of them. “We’ve landed.” He pulled off a glove to check his watch. “Just under fifteen minutes ago. You still don’t know shit about freezing, so stop complaining like a bunch of old women in a knitting cycle…”

“I’d love to be an old lady in a knitting circle right now,” you sighed, your breath immediately turning to steam. You exchanged a look with Reid, who was freezing just as much as you were, and together, you had been driving Derek crazy with your whining. You all had similar gear, thermal layers, and jackets designed for extreme conditions, but it still wasn’t enough. “Sitting by the fireplace, knitting a sweater. Gossiping with other retirees.”

“Exchanging gingerbread recipes,” Spencer suggested, his tone just as wistful.

“And sharing tips for dealing with worms in our cats’ anuses,” you added.

“I’m done," Derek muttered.

Your work often sent you to various corners of the United States, but it rarely involved Alaska. Well, due to the state’s relatively low population density compared to others, fewer crimes were committed there, especially at the federal level.

However, in recent weeks, strange disappearances had occurred—teenagers and young men. Their bodies were found in remote areas, deep in the forest or in completely uninhabited wilderness, places so isolated that even an experienced survivalist would struggle to find their way out.

The local police, as local police often do in most criminal cases, initially pretended there wasn’t a problem, insisting the victims had died as a result of tragic accidents, simply getting lost during a hike. But when the number of deaths began to rise, and the victims included even high school students—locals who were well aware of the dangers of wandering alone after dark in such perilous areas—the case landed on JJ’s desk.

And so, you found yourselves in the brutally frigid surroundings of Fairbanks, heading toward the inn where you were supposed to drop off your things and immediately dive into the investigation.

"The temperature this week is going to range from 15 to 5 degrees Fahrenheit," Spencer informed you over his shoulder as he opened the car trunk to retrieve the luggage. "Of course, that's during the day. At night, it’ll drop as low as -4 degrees."

Elle shivered as he handed her her bag.

"I was doing just fine without those numbers," she said, nudging you lightly with her shoulder—a touch you barely felt through the thick layers of clothing. "What do you say we make up for this with a New Year’s trip? Mallorca? The Himalayas?"

"I’m dreaming of the Caribbean," Morgan chimed in. "Beaches, sunshine, and cocktails—that’s what I’ll be dreaming of tonight."

"And half-naked sunbathers," you added.

"And half-naked sunbathers," he agreed with a grin.

Elle trudged ahead, sinking into the snow up to her calves. The inn was a sizable wooden building, adorned with balconies and terraces that, given the weather, likely went unused, though they added considerable charm. It was tucked away in a secluded spot, offering privacy and a peaceful atmosphere—ideal for work.

You lingered by the car, waiting for Reid to grab his things, unwilling to leave him behind.

“Do you know much about the northern lights, Rudolph?” you teased, nodding toward his red-tipped nose. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing them.”

“Well, then you’re in luck,” he replied, looking at you with a slight smile. “We’re in one of the best places to see them, during the season with the longest nights. They’ll be visible pretty early, though the most stunning views will probably happen between ten at night and two in the morning. I’ve always wanted to see them in person too.”

"So, what do you think?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. "Midnight, at my door, and we’ll go play aurora hunters?"

You shivered just at the thought. Of course, you were joking—there was no way you'd even stick a single hand out from under the covers at this hour with those freezing nighttime temperatures. You planned to admire the beautiful phenomenon from your room window. Warm, you hoped.

"Alright. Just make sure you bundle up,"

 "Sure. Thermal thong and all that."

Your room was on the same floor as Elle's and JJ's, and you were glad to have them just behind the next door. Unpacking took you only a minute, and within that time, you were all together, sitting as a team, going through the case files.

“These boys were so young,” JJ remarked, shaking her head with a hint of dread. “Sixteen, the youngest, twenty-four, the oldest. They were found in such remote locations that if it hadn’t been for the ongoing professional search and the dogs, who knows how long it would have taken before anyone stumbled upon their bodies.”

“Given the heavy snowfall, they might not have been found until the thaw. What do their parents and families say about all of this?” Hotch asked.

“Unanimously, they believe their kids would never have ventured that far on their own. This is where the mystery starts, though, because there were no wounds on their bodies, except for the ones they inflicted on themselves in their attempts to survive in the cold.”

“So, it looks like someone kidnapped them, drove them out to a place you’d never get out of without serious survival skills, and just left them to die?” Derek asked, baffled.

“Seems that way. Yesterday, an eighteen-year-old named David Moore was reported missing. Normally, it probably would have been classified as a delayed return home or maybe a runaway, and the police wouldn’t have even taken the report. But given the current circumstances and the rising panic among the locals, his parents decided not to wait. A wise decision.”

"How many hours has it been since he went missing?" you asked, running your own grim calculations in your head. "Around eight, right? Is it even possible for him to survive the night out there in these conditions?"

"That depends on what he was wearing and the specific location where he was left," Reid explained, thoughtfully cleaning the lenses of his glasses. You realized it had been a while since you’d seen him wearing them—he used to wear them daily, but lately, it was only on occasion. For a moment, you found yourself staring at his face, liking how the dark frames suited it.

"His parents believe he was likely abducted on his way home from tutoring," Elle noted, flipping through the case file. "People around here dress warmly as a habit, but even so, I doubt his everyday clothes would be particularly suited to weather like this. At night. In the middle of the woods."

An uncomfortable silence followed her words, broken only by Hotch clearing his throat.

"Anyway, we need to join the ongoing search efforts. We’ll be more useful out in the field than trying to build a profile with the scraps of information we have. I’m not sure if I need to remind you, but out of habit, I will: be cautious and don’t, under any circumstances, stray from the search group. They know this area."

Before you all moved out to get to work, Reid shot you a fleeting glance. Like a dad, you mouthed silently, and he let out the faintest chuckle. You both enjoyed spotting those unmistakably parental tendencies in your boss, though they were directed at you and the rest of the team.

Hours of searching had, unfortunately, yielded no results—the crushing pressure of time bore down on you all. The knowledge that each passing moment was stripping this boy of his chances for survival felt almost unbearable. If he had somehow managed to survive the first eight hours in the forest, sixteen seemed an increasingly unlikely feat.

And yet, hope lingered. The group, driven by his distraught family, refused to stop, likely continuing to scour the area despite warnings. Meanwhile, you stood in your hotel room, so close to the window that the cold glass brushed against your nose.

Your thoughts were consumed by the case and the fate of the teenager. Just as Reid had said, the sky was illuminated by that breathtaking greenish glow. Watching it felt almost surreal, and you wanted to take in as much of it as your eyes could hold.

If it weren’t for the fact that you had frozen to your very core during the search, you might have stepped outside to see it more clearly. 

Just as the thought crossed your mind, there was a knock at your door.

You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone. When you opened it, you came face to face with none other than Spencer. Well, it was hard to tell it was him at first. He was bundled up so tightly in layers of warm clothes that his body lost its natural shape and resembled more of a puffy ball than a person.

"Hey," he greeted awkwardly, raising his hand hesitantly and scanning your appearance from head to toe. "You're not ready yet. Sorry, I think I came too early. I thought we were meeting at midnight..."

"We were meeting?"

"For the northern lights hunt, you forgot? I checked the Kp index, it's a measure of aurora activity that determines its intensity, and it turns out tonight is really favorable... wait, why are you laughing?"

His furrowed brows and face, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway but clearly confused, only made you laugh harder. Shaking your head in disbelief, you covered your smile with your hand.

"Spencer, I was joking," you said, suddenly feeling guilty that your sarcasm had led him to spend time and effort preparing for a night out. "There’s no way I'm going out in this cold. I’d rather dive headfirst into boiling water, at least that would be warmer."

“Oh,” he let out a short, disappointed sigh. He quickly nodded, as if trying to accept the situation, and forced a more neutral expression. “I—I really thought you were serious. Sorry for... for waking you up, then.”

For a moment, you stood in silence, your hand resting on the doorframe. An odd, unexpected thought sprinted through your mind. It had been such a long time since the two of you had been together like this, late at night, in the same room...

“Well, in that case,” he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry again. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Forget I came here and embarrassed myself. That’s all. Sorry. I should probably go if I want to avoid being completely sleep-deprived tomorrow...”

“Go where?” you interrupted, suddenly standing straighter, alarmed.

“Aurora hunting.”

“By yourself? Spencer, have you lost your mind?”

He opened and closed his mouth, caught off guard by your outburst.

“Well, I don’t know when I’ll ever get another chance like this, being in the Arctic Circle...”

“It’s pitch dark and freezing cold. You don’t know the area—”

“...I’ve had a chance to look around, and I’m not going far. There’s a small hill just behind the inn—”

“...And there’s a freaking serial killer on the loose around here, did you forget?”

“Well, I have a gun.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go,” you cut him off firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. Spencer tilted his head, clearly ready to argue further, but before he could speak, you added, “Give me five minutes.”

“What?”

“Five minutes to get dressed. I’m coming with you.”

At first, you could have sworn a faint smile flickered across his lips. But then, just as quickly, he shook his head vehemently.

“No, really, you don’t have to. Not just because of me. I’ll be fine…”

"Five minutes," you repeated once more, slightly flustered and trying not to dwell on the fact that the moment you stepped outside, you’d likely regret this decision. “Wait here. Or come inside—I don’t want to shut the door in your face.” As you spoke, you opened the door wider, inviting him in.

Without wasting another second, you headed straight for your suitcase. Okay, how many layers does one need for a night outside in Alaska?

“I actually bought a set of thermal underwear specifically for this case,” you said, pulling out the essentials from your bag. Most of what you’d worn during the day would work fine, but you debated adding an extra sweater and another pair of socks. “And, oh my God, I hate it. I’d rather wear lace thongs 24/7 than spend more than eight hours in this bugger.”

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, curious to see his reaction and waiting for his reply. It wasn’t like you wanted to embarrass him, but you absolutely adored how, in response to even your most suggestive remarks, he could always respond with complete seriousness—like he was dissecting some profound issue. Judging by the furrow of his brow, this time would be no different.

“Really? You know, thermal underwear is generally associated with comfort. The fabric is typically elastic, soft, and breathable. High-quality models are even seamless, so they don’t cause any chafing. Maybe you bought a poorly fitted one?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, I have no expertise in this area. It digs in so much, though, and I have to keep myself from adjusting it. Can you imagine me sticking my hand in my pants right in front of the missing boy’s family?”

He hesitated before responding.

“Not really. But I can picture Hotch’s face.”

“And I can picture a termination notice on my desk the next day,” you quipped.

You grabbed all the clothes you had gathered and disappeared into the bathroom to layer them on. It wasn’t a quick job—by the end, you felt like your movements were completely restricted by the weight of it all—but at least you were prepared. When the first merciless blast of Alaskan air brushed against the tiny exposed part of your face, it didn’t immediately make you want to run back inside screaming. 

Instead, you sighed in awe.

"I know I’ve invoked God's name a hundred times already, but God, this is beautiful," you said, feeling your own words too inadequate to describe the miracle above your heads. The streaks of light stretching across the sky, an intense green with a certain transparency, a glassy quality, the stars peeking through it all.

 Spencer turned to you over his shoulder. He was only a couple of steps ahead, but he kept doing it as if afraid that in a moment of not seeing you, you'd fall into the snow and disappear forever.

“Wait until we get to the spot,” he said, his smile clearly excited. In his dark eyes, the light seemed to reflect and stay there, even when he blinked, as though he had already absorbed it all deep inside. “It’s only ten minutes away, but it makes a difference.”

"I hope you're not one of those people who says, 'Oh, it's just around the corner, we don't need a cab!' and then leads you to walk halfway across the city" you scoffed. You tried to keep your gaze fixed on his back, his lantern swinging in his hand. Alaska, the vast empty terrain, the thick layers of snow, seemed to hide some sort of mystery beneath them, and it filled you with a fair amount of fear. "Will you shield me with your chest if a bear jumps out at us?"

"Actually, yes, I would," he replied. "But not because of heroism, it's more because I have bear spray in my pocket, and by that very fact, it's probably my duty."

"Okay, let’s make a deal: you protect us from a potential bear attack, and I’ll take care of Bigfoot. By the way, that legend never really scared me. A monkey with gigantic feet just sounds too ridiculous to me. Remember that episode of History's Mysteries that we watched at your place?"

You both shared a love for a certain TV show about conspiracy theories and famous mysteries from around the world.

 "Of course. You know part of it was filmed right here in Fairbanks? Bigfoot never really fascinated me either, but I liked that at the end of the episode they also mentioned other Alaskan legends. Like The Kushtaka, for example."

"I don't remember that. But I'm not sure I want you to tell me," you confessed, taking a breath, the cold biting into your lungs. Despite the layers of clothing, it was getting colder and colder, but at least you'd finally reached the spot Spencer had chosen. He was right; the vast plain on the small hill was perfect for watching the aurora. You had the feeling that the sky was only an inch above your head, and a childlike urge to reach up and touch it. "Alright, you've got me too intrigued. Go ahead."

You noticed that, unlike you, Spencer wasn't tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. He was looking at you.

"The Kushtaka is a creature from the folklore of the surrounding tribes. It is most often described as a hybrid of a human and an otter..."

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

"Otters, seriously? Is that supposed to chill me to the bone?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

"Okay, let me tell you the story differently," he proposed in a similar tone, swallowing as if to prepare himself for the tension-building drop in his voice. "Just like now, we're heading out to see the northern lights. Just the two of us, surrounded by nothing but darkness. The sky is overcast that day, and there’s hardly any light to see." At that moment, he switched off the flashlight he was holding, and his previously well-lit face faded into obscurity. You crossed your arms over your chest, silently promising yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being scared.

“In this story, do my thermal undies also ride up so uncomfortably?”

“Your underwear isn’t a significant part of this tale. Anyway… crap, where was I?”

“The thought of my underwear distracted you?”

You heard him sigh, almost in exasperation, and a sly smile spread across your face.

“Let me continue. No more comments about underwear.”

“My underwear or in general?”

“SO WE’RE HEADING TO SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. It’s dark, it’s creepy, and you’ve got chills running down your spine. Then suddenly, you realize you’ve lost me.”

“Phew,” you exhaled with theatrical relief. “Finally got rid of that creep who kept obsessing over my underwear.”

"You know what, I’m done. I’m done. I won’t tell you the story about the human-otter hybrid."

“I’m devastated by this fact!” you assured him in the same overly dramatic tone. Taking it a step further, you jumped toward him, desperately grabbing the fabric of his jacket. “Dr. Reid, please, I beg you, tell me about the human-otter hybrid. I need this. I’ll sell my soul and body, just please…”

Spencer threw his head back, laughing, and as you tried to calm yourself down, you leaned against him. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance, sending both of you toppling into the snow.

“Damn, we’re going to be wet!” he groaned, trying to get up from the deep snowdrift you both had fallen into. It wasn’t the easiest task with all the layers of clothing and a girl who was dying of laughter on top of him.

“I think that’s enough of our aurora watching,” you said once you both finally managed to get back on your feet. Despite the ski pants and very, very warm clothes, you were starting to feel frozen. “And enough of your legends. It’s late, and we should head back.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he complained, sounding like a little puppy that had been scolded for peeing on the carpet.

“You can tell me on the way,” you replied. “Come on.”

You sent one last glance toward the sky before moving forward, your mind focused entirely on the vision of a hot, soothing bath and a blanket with an extra layer for warmth. For the rest of the walk, Spencer didn’t try to use his low voice or mysterious narrative tone. He finished the story in his usual manner, sounding more like a fascinated lecturer. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed—he had sounded really sexy earlier, you had to admit.

When you both got back to the guesthouse, you glanced at the stairs leading up to your room and shook your head in refusal.

“If I don’t get under at least five blankets right this second, I’m going to die, so sorry my dear, but I’m coming to you and I won’t leave until I’m warm, or I’ll never leave at all,” you said quickly and firmly.

Spencer raised an eyebrow but replied just as energetically.

“I don’t think I have five blankets in my room.”

“Three will be fine.”

And that's exactly how it went. First, you took off your jackets, and then, in your typical everyday clothes, you quickly jumped into bed, covered with the duvet up to your neck, waiting for the pleasant warmth to spread across your bodies.

“Was seeing the aurora worth all that suffering?' you asked, turning onto your side in bed so you could face him.

'Well, it wouldn't have been suffering if someone hadn't shoved both of us into the snow...'

He said this while lying on his back, but shortly after these words, he followed your lead and also turned onto his side. Your breath became shallower. It had been almost a year since you last had him this close, almost a year since you slept together, and then decided to let the situation fade into oblivion.

Honestly, you almost succeeded. After all, that incident was like every other encounter you had with guys. Spontaneous, one-time, followed by bolting. But you didn’t see those other guys afterward. Every day at work, forced to watch him wipe his glasses, his damn glasses, with the same fingers he…

“Are you thinking about something specific?” he suddenly asked, his voice eerily similar to the one he used to tell you the story on the hill, a voice you found so sexy.

That was the kind of man Spencer Reid was. Always wanting to know what was going on inside your head.

You sighed, probably too loudly.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking right now," 

You felt a little pathetic, realizing that your whole excuse about not being able to go to your room was just a pretext to end up in his bed. Once again. This whole trip to Alaska must have really messed with your head. Or maybe it cleared the fog in your mind and left a single thought, naked and defenseless. You wanted him. 

"I know how pathetic that sounds, but I always want to know what you're thinking," he replied after a moment, swallowing audibly. You heard it clearly, you were so close. So close...

You had to make a quick decision: whether to continue and face the consequences the next day, or, perhaps worse, to be rejected? It was possible that he had learned from your last time together, and didn’t want to get involved with you that way.

"I can show you what I'm thinking," you finally proposed, not blinking for a long moment, just carefully studying the features of his face, any signs of uncertainty or tension. 

Because there was that one small seed of probability that he wanted you too.

His lips parted, but were immediately covered by your kiss. 

Slow and curious. How did he taste after all this time? 

Maybe it was a thought whispered by the moment, but you had the feeling that even better. 

You didn’t play the role of a taster for too long. Soon, still not pulling his lips away from yours, you lifted yourself into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your elbow on the bed, pressing closer to him with every passing moment, more intensely and hungrily. 

Something seemed to haunt you, preventing you from moving any further. Something in his posture—lying on his back, surrendered to your control, yet somehow absent.

You pulled away from his lips, your gazes meeting. There was a certain weakness and sadness in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you managed to ask, your voice strangely trembling.

Spencer suddenly sat up, straightening himself, though there was still a slight bend in his shoulders. His movement forced you to pull away from his chest.

"I can't do this," he confessed quietly, taking a deep breath. "I can't sleep with you." In a way, it hurt more than if he had simply refused to let you kiss him. Your forehead furrowed in disappointment and... shock?

"Why?" you asked directly, foregoing any excuses about not aiming for that. Because you had been.

He let out a laugh, filled with pity.

"Because after this, I won’t be able to stop thinking about you. And you, after tonight, won’t want me anymore."

You were breathing heavily, completely unsure of what to say. His words were painfully eye-opening, first and foremost. And secondly... true. Because did you plan, like a normal person, to wake up next to him, greet him, date him? That wasn’t how you operated. In your plans, there was always just one option—escape. Exactly like that time.

You slowly began to slide off the bed, his hand moved to reach for yours, and you hoped he would take it, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He hesitated.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him, yet you didn’t look at him the whole time. You sounded stiff, almost reproachful, even though you were the one who should be reproached. You were the problem.

You looked around the floor, used to picking up your clothes from it, but this time there was nothing. Except for the jacket hung up and the ski pants you’d pulled on over your regular ones to avoid freezing in the cold night. Leaving without a word seemed excessive.

Your back rested against the door as you turned to look at him. Your quick-thinking mind raced, searching for something to say to at least salvage some dignity in this situation…

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” you finally suggested.

Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up or stay there. Eventually, it seemed like he stayed, though you weren’t sure, having already turned toward the door, your hand pressing on the doorknob.

“T-think that’s the best solution,” he admitted, just as one of your feet stepped into the hallway.

Then, you heard someone whistling.

You immediately stepped back into his room, keeping your face turned toward the door.

“Damn, it’s Morgan,” you said, recognizing the person in the hallway by the sound alone. “We better not let him see me leave, or he’ll never leave us alone…”

You expected that when you turned around, you’d find him still sitting on the bed. After all, you hadn’t heard him get up, hadn’t heard him approach. You certainly didn’t expect that, when you turned, his lips would almost immediately attack yours.

It was so unexpected, so sudden, that the back of your head slammed against the door.

“Fuck, sorry…”

But you didn’t think for a second about the pain, nor did you focus on why Spencer had suddenly changed his mind. Your attention was solely on the two of you, two desperate pairs of lips pressing together and pulling apart, never staying away for long.

He pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist. Unlike the last time, it was your back that hit the mattress first. The cool surface, the heated bodies, and the weight of the layers of clothing between you both.

"You've changed," you noticed.

A different dynamic. The pace was set by him—just moments ago, you were standing by the door, and now, half of your clothes were gone, while the soft skin of your neck was buried under a cascade of messy, impatient kisses.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his face hovering above yours, one hand resting on the bed next to it.

"I haven't gotten enough to say for sure," you replied, teasingly. "But I get the feeling you're more confident now. A lot of practice since last time?"

He shrugged.

"I don't think it's about practice," he said, his hand sliding down your side until it stopped at the waistband of your pants, lingering there but not moving any lower. You reached for his hand, brushing against it before trailing your fingers along its length up to his forearm, feeling one of his veins beneath your fingertips. "I guess... I was just scared you'd leave, and I had to stop you somehow. That’s why I rushed," he admitted.

His gaze lingered mostly on your face, but it wandered across your body, his frustration clear as he eyed the layers of clothing still in his way. Something about his desperation and impatience stirred something playful in you, and you couldn’t resist teasing him.

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you tilted your chin to look at him.

 “If I tried to leave right now, how would you stop me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at your question, but he decided to play along, nodding thoughtfully.

“I think I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Care to show me?” you asked, your voice dripping with challenge.

For a moment, he didn’t move at all, just kept staring at you, until he allowed himself that first, utterly shameless drop of his gaze and a soft sigh. His lips began their journey, starting at their usual, safe spot on your neck, trailing toward your shoulder, and crossing over your collarbone with deliberate intent. You were still half-sitting, struggling to steady your breathing so your chest wouldn’t rise and fall too much or too quickly, trying not to disrupt him. The first hint of uncertainty appeared between your breasts when his kisses momentarily softened, carefully exploring unfamiliar territory and testing your sensitivity.

You struggled more and more to keep yourself from collapsing fully onto the mattress. But when his cool tongue met your skin, pressing against it so firmly that his forehead brushed against your stomach, relentlessly moving lower, you couldn’t hold out any longer.

He was between your knees, bent in anticipation. He reached them, sliding his hands down your thighs and coaxing them to relax. He fumbled a bit while unbuttoning your pants, and had trouble sliding them down while you were lying there. You lifted your hips to help, even tried to do it yourself, but he stopped your hands, placing them above your head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said softly, finally freeing your legs from both pant legs. His hands wrapped around your ankles, his thumb tracing gentle circles around one of them, which somehow completely seized your attention, and you focused solely on that subtle motion. For a moment, you closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you noticed that his chin was just above your panty line. "Actually, it will be much more pleasant for you if you just focus on feeling and nothing else. I was supposed to show you my ideas, remember?"

“As someone who apologized for being in too much of a hurry, you sure have an unexpectedly large amount of patience now,” you remarked with reproach, lifting your head again. Maybe keeping it down allowed for more comfort and relief for your neck, but on the other hand, the sight of his face immersed between your thighs was simply priceless.

If the sight itself was priceless, how do you describe that feeling?

With every move of his tongue, your hips swayed, adjusted to the rhythm. Often tense, trying to find some outlet, especially when sighs escaped his lips and his cool breath penetrated through you.

"Think I'm gonna cume embarrassingly quickly," you confessed, unsure whether he even understood anything from your sentence, which was at least interwoven with two moans. Three.

When it happened, you uncontrollably squeezed his head with your knees, a similar groan also came from his mouth. 

Spender didn’t stay in that position for long. When you opened your tightly shut eyelids, his face was right above yours, stretched in such satisfaction, as if he was the one receiving pleasure.

"Was it too quick for you?" he asked, still absorbing you with the same gaze, which seemed to pulse with desire. "If you want, we can try again, you’ll surely improve..."

"My God, when did you become so cocky?"

He chuckled, but instead of answering, he once again pressed himself against your body and skin, closing his eyes in devotion and lingering on each spot for as long as it took, as if he could never be satisfied, no matter how much he took in. 

Your hands, instead of tormenting the innocent fabric of the blanket, moved to his back, tightly embracing his neck and basically everything they could latch onto. All of his earlier composure seemed to evaporate; you didn’t even have to ask twice to make him slide in. It actually sounded more like an order than a request, a bit desperate, it's true, but still an order.

"How is it even possible that it feels even better than the last time?” His words, his lips, ticked your neck as he moaned out this question. "Just... I feel like I won’t have enough of you tonight."

"The night is long," you said, almost into the air, not really paying attention to the meaning behind it. "Tomorrow night too."

Spencer stopped, completely. His eyes desperately searched for yours, and when he finally found them, they widened in disbelief.

"Tomorrow night too?" he repeated. "But I thought... I thought you didn't want anything more than a one-night fling…”

"It's already our second," you reminded him. "And I'll be completely honest with you, I don’t want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of you. Let's make a deal, okay?"

"A deal?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you about it in a moment, but right now...Oh God, I think I’m gonna…”

You both got dressed right after, but not because either of you intended to leave. The temperature inside simply didn’t allow for sleeping naked, no matter how warm you were after sex.

"So?" he asked, handing you the piece of paper you had sent him to the bathroom for. Then he sat on the bed, facing you. "What did you mean by this deal?"

"Well, after thinking about it, I'm not sure if it's a good idea after all..."

"I want to know, even if just out of curiosity."

"You want to know everything, Spence. But fine. I thought maybe... while we're in Alaska, we could just, you know, allow ourselves to do whatever we want. In more direct terms, fuck each other as much as we want.”  

It sounded a bit...crazy? Spencer kept his gaze suspended in the air for a moment before turning it back to you, questioning.

"But only as long as we're in Alaska?"

"Exactly. Since there's only one floor between us, why not take advantage of it?" you tried to joke, lightening the mood.

It didn’t seem to have much effect on him.

"But what happens next? When we get back?"

"Do we really have to think about that?" you wondered, moving closer to him, to the body that just moments ago made you feel so good. "We'll get used to being apart, just like before."

"Okay," he sucked in a breath, clearly torn over the proposal. "I mean, no, I didn’t mean okay... because it doesn’t seem like a great idea, but on the other hand... on the other hand, I really, really want you, even if it only means for this short time."

You smiled, though deep down, somewhere very deep, there was something somber in that gesture. 

Ignoring that, you kissed him to seal the deal. And not just that.

"That was for good night and goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're leaving?" A clear look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly shook his head, trying to get rid of it. "Good night, then."

 "It's not that I don't want to stay. It's just that it would be better to be well-rested for work, and I don't think we'd sleep properly if I decided to spend the night here. “

You saw him open his mouth, ready to protest, but you had already gotten up from the bed and started gathering your remaining things.

"Wait," he called as you were about to leave. "You said... you said something that's been bothering me, you know? I can even quote it, so listen up. You said that you don't want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of me."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter.

"And that bothers you?"

"I don’t understand what you meant by that. What in my behavior makes you feel that way?"

"A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you someday. Maybe it's better if you're not aware of it."

"Hey, now I won’t be able to sleep!"

"Anyway, good night, sweet boy."

*

Almost the first thing in the morning, you found yourselves at the local police station, full of disappointment and anxiety. You had to inform the parents of the missing boy found in the forest that he had been located. But unfortunately, it was not good news.

The first hours of the day passed in constant analysis and discussion, until finally, around noon, you gathered in front of the town's police officers, ready to deliver the profile. You didn’t have much time for any reflection on the previous night, or even for a conversation with Spencer. A sober one this time, when you weren’t intoxicated by desire and each other.

You stood in the corner of the room, listening to Hotch and Gideon.

"The UNSUB is a white male, likely with military experience or, at the very least, extensive survival skills, estimated to be around 50-60 years old. He abducts teenagers, boys, and young men who look younger than their actual age, which suggests he doesn’t know his victims very well."

"If he observes them, it’s for a short period. He doesn’t have time to get to know them but understands their routine and daily schedule well enough to know when to strike."

"He doesn’t drug his victims, which means he is physically capable of abducting them without assistance. This ties into the type of victims he selects. All these boys were more the intellectual type than athletes. When abducted, they were coming from school, tutoring sessions, or the library. David Moore, for instance, was tall but lanky. His family described him as gentle, with a big heart and a passion for learning."

"The UNSUB abandons them in remote forest locations. Forcing them to fight for survival gives him a sense of control and serves as a way to prove his belief that modern society and boys today are incapable of handling adversity. He openly despises them, viewing them as weak and effeminate. His mindset reflects a toxic approach to gender roles and what he considers the traditional male archetype."

“White men aged 50-60 with survival skills make up about half the population here,” a policeman noted. “Take me, for example…”

Hotch began providing more detailed information, while Gideon stepped out of the center of the room, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

You approached Reid, who was sitting in a chair, and ruffled his hair with your hand.

“Watch your back, genius-boy,” you warned, standing behind him. From his seat, he tilted his head all the way back to look up at you. A smile instantly appeared on his face.

“You might just be next. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“So, you think I’m effeminate?”

"I know very well that you're not. But you do have that intellectual spark in your eyes. And, you know, those glasses don’t help."

Ever since you’d been in Alaska, he’d worn them less often because, as he’d told you while chatting in bed, they kept fogging up. But now, they were perched on his nose, making him look... delectable. Simply delectable.

The rest of your team approached, Elle's gaze lingering on your hand resting on the back of Reid's chair. As usual, she had to notice everything.

"I need to send you all to a few places to check out some individuals the police have identified as matching the profile," Hotch announced. "Y/N and Elle, I’d like you to speak again with the bus driver who drove David Moore just before he was abducted. Once he understands the profile, he might be able to recall more details."

You lingered in the room, wanting to exchange a word with Spencer. In complete privacy... He was slowly wiping his glasses, as if hoping for the same. Watching the movements of his hands, you shook your head.

"This is it—what you asked me about yesterday. What makes me sexually frustrated. Our agreement still stands, right?" you asked, running your hand along his shoulder, just to touch him. Even though the many layers of clothing made it almost impossible to really feel him.

He looked at the glasses he was cleaning, then at you, disbelief written all over his face.

"That's what you meant? Cleaning glasses?"

"Don't judge me. It's about the motion. Or maybe the glasses themselves, I don't know. Maybe I’m a fetishist. Anyway, are you going to answer my question?"

Still seated in the chair, he had to tilt his head back to look at you, which reminded you—just a little, okay, a lot—of another situation where he was down below.

"What about you?" he countered. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"In that case, yes. It still stands."

“Oh, I don’t know what I’d do if you’d answered differently. See you tonight, then,” you promised, glancing around the room to make sure none of your team members were still there. Just a few local officers... who weren’t paying much attention to you. Even if they were, it wasn’t their business.

You leaned in quickly to kiss him. He closed his eyes, as if hoping for more.

“Not now, and not here. I need to go find Elle. Hotch gave us an assignment. Have a good one.”

You walked away, feeling his gaze on your back.

You found your friend in the car, one of those suited for tough terrain, with high tires. She was sitting behind the wheel, tapping her nails on it.

"So, what was the address of that driver?" you asked, fastening your seatbelt.

"Forgive my bluntness, darling, but I’ll die if I don’t know. What was that all about?"

"What do you mean, ‘What was that all about’?"

"Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean. Messing with his hair, the chair, the looks. Are you two sleeping together again?"

You technically had no reason to hide anything from her, after all, you trusted her completely and had never hesitated to talk about your sex life. But this time... you kind of liked the idea of keeping whatever happened between you and Spencer just between the two of you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We're just acting like we usually do," you said.

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling away from the police station, her gaze shifting between the road and you. "Then what were those sounds last night from his room?"

"Oh shit, did we make noise?"

She smiled triumphantly.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm just teasing you. I'm on a completely different floor. But I'll take that as an admission of guilt."

"Manipulative bitch!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. So?"

You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh, but eventually, you confirmed her suspicion with a nod.

"I thought you didn't sleep with the same guy twice."

"The air in Alaska really does something strange to me."

"Sure. The air," she scoffed, and you furrowed your brows in slight confusion, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. The car glided along one of those completely empty, snow-covered roads where there was nothing to focus on. "You know, I wonder why you just don't admit that you like him?"

"I don't hide the fact that I like him."

"Then why not give it a try?"

"Try what, Elle?"

She glanced at you sideways, her lips tightening at your obviously irritated tone. She didn't mean to upset you, of course, but that's how you felt. She sighed, as if thinking about how to approach the subject.

"You've learned to live with it," she finally began, slowly and cautiously weighing her words. "With that fear. Of intimacy and commitment."

"It's just a preference."

"No, it's not a preference. It's fear. You're afraid that if you get emotionally close to someone, you'll be abandoned, and you don't want to risk another painful loss. You want to have full control over the relationship and disappear when you feel like it's fading. Usually in the morning. It's a common mechanism, and it's not just about you. And no mechanism can be broken without making an attempt."

"Elle, stop. You're profiling me, and you know how much I hate that."

And actually, you hated being confronted with the truth about yourself and being internally forced to draw conclusions about yourself.

It was easy, living without reflecting on oneself. Especially when those reflections were painful. You could hurt yourself, unsuccessfully trying to confront them, or flow along with their current, completely subordinated to them and deaf to the words of others, who said you were only hurting yourself in the bigger picture.

 Elle dropped the subject, as you had arrived at the house of the man you were supposed to interview. She didn’t bring it up again afterward. The hours at work passed, and you only waited for that specific moment when you'd cross the threshold of that room again.

The previous night danced vividly in your mind, never slowing down or taking a break for a moment. As soon as he opened the door, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his face, and unbuckling his belt.

Spencer took a sharp breath, shocked and amused, as soon as you touched him.

"It would be incredibly awkward if someone were at my place right now," he chuckled into your mouth, half of his sentence drowned out by your kiss.

You pulled your face away just slightly, raising your eyebrows. It was only then that you noticed he was wearing glasses. Oh, he was so completely unaware of what you were about to do to him...

"How many people do you bring to yourself every night?" you asked.

"In that regard, only you. Besides, this is only the second time, so I wouldn’t call it every night... but I could always be here with someone, talking..."

"Keeping each other warm," you added.

Your hands slid under the fabric of his clothes, brushing the lower part of his stomach.

He noticeably tensed under your fingers, swallowing slowly, impatient and pleading.

"Engaging in a worldview discussion and exchanging conclusions," he finished, a smile playing on his lips.

"Uh-huh. Exactly like we are now. Honestly, does that turn you on? Do you want me to share my political views while you’re eating me out?” 

"This is probably the only scenario in which you could make me not feel pleasure because of it."

His hands hesitated, roaming uncertainly across your body, unsure of where to start. They brushed over so many spots, moving from one to the next, chaotic and desperate. 

You didn’t know where to focus – on the lips in the hollow of your neck, on the hand on your hips, or the other, slipping lower and lower?

Or perhaps on that sound, right by your ear, sweet, pleading whimper?

Moan left your body just for that reason and you already knew how you wanted the rest of the night to unfold. 

You gently pushed him back, and with quickened breath, you dropped to one knee, then the other.

"After yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about you," you confessed, making sure your lips were close enough to his body as you spoke. You heard him inhale sharply, whispering something under his breath. "I couldn't focus on work at all. So today, I want to take care of you, completely."

You thought he would be satisfied with the offer; well, it was hard to deny that he was. Still, for some reason, he started shaking his head.

"N-no, that's not... I want to do it. Take care of you, I mean."

You couldn’t stop smiling, but at the same time, you weren’t about to back down, which should probably be enough to describe the dynamics of the following hours. 

At times, it was brutally slow, while at other moments, it was hurried and impressive. Sometimes, you interrupted each other constantly, unable to stop talking, and at other times, the only sound filling the room was your two breaths, the only constant, restless, and laced with moans and cries.

"You’re not leaving me tonight, right?" he asked, drawing closer to your body and holding you almost pleadingly. You laughed against his skin, shaking your head in denial.

 "At some point, I will have to. For about fifteen minutes, before everyone wakes up."

 "You’ll say you just came by for something. To ask a question or something," he tried to convince you.

 "Oh, at this early hour, looking like I’ve just done a two-hour workout? Derek would eat us alive. His eyebrow would never drop again. If I ever end up in hell, it will be with him there, looking at me like that." You tried to mimic his expression, tensing your jaw as you did.

"Stop, I feel harassed."

"You see? And if he found out about us, this is how the next... God, I can’t even predict when he’d get tired of it. Maybe in a year. Do you want to suffer for another whole year just to be with me for an extra fifteen minutes?"

 "I’d be able to survive that," he declared quietly, placing his hand under your head and playing with your hair with one of his fingers. "But if you don’t want it, I’m not going to waste time and try to convince you."

"Sure," you scoffed playfully. "So many things could be done in that time."

"Like what?" he asked, clearly intrigued. "Try to sleep. What were you hoping for?"

"Nothing, nothing. But you used a plural in that sentence and then only gave one thing. So, I’m waiting for the rest."

"That’s an overinterpretation."

"More like a simple analysis of sentence structure."

"Maybe sometimes it's better to analyze a little less. Spencer."

 "I don’t think I’m capable of that," he admitted, his tone a little more serious. You furrowed your brow, looking at his pale face in the weak light, showing signs of the night’s exhaustion. "That’s just how my brain works. It doesn’t give me much time to rest."

You often wondered what the world looked like from his perspective. How, in many ways, his genius was both a revelation and a curse. But you’d never heard him complain about it—until now. In fact, it wasn’t even a complaint, just a statement of fact, somewhat melancholy.

You kissed the top of his head, hoping it would have a soothing effect.

And indeed, it worked. He moved even closer to you, rested his head, and after a moment, almost at the same time, your eyelids fell.

*

The morning passed slowly and longingly, even though you were still so close to each other. However, there was the awareness that with the arrival of the day, you would have to wait many, many hours before you saw each other again. In a similar way, you meant. After all, at work, you constantly spent time together, which only made everything more difficult. It would have been much easier to push him out of your head and focus, if it weren’t for that.

Meanwhile, Spencer, perhaps trying to gently play on your nerves, cleaned his glasses much more often than necessary. But there was also the possibility that he was doing it the same amount as usual, and you were just imagining it.

"Are you doing that again?" Morgan nodded in his direction as a greeting when you were sitting in the guesthouse room that served as your team's meeting place. There was a long table in there, similar to the one in your office, but much narrower. Sitting across from Reid, you could easily touch his hand. If you wanted to. "Is this some new nervous tic of yours? Polishing them?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer furrowed his brow in mock surprise, stopping the corner of his mouth from twitching. You kicked him under the table, and he couldn’t suppress a gasp.

To hide your amusement, you covered your face with your hand, but Morgan immediately picked up on it.

"Is this some new inside joke of yours?"

"He’s literally just polishing his glasses, leave him alone," you said.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in the same way you had imitated him the night before. Neither of you could hold it in and burst into laughter.

"What’s going on?" JJ asked, walking into the room.

"Something very strange is going on," Derek announced mysteriously, staring at you both intently. His hands were resting on his hips, and his head tilted in thought. "Something very strange..."

Then Hotch arrived, even more serious than usual, which immediately dispelled the good mood. The rest of the team also arrived—Elle and Gideon—and everyone took their seats at the table.

"In the past few hours, there hasn’t been any concerning missing person reports," Hotch informed you. "On one hand, that’s good; on the other, it means the unsub will strike again soon. And we can’t let that happen."

"And you even have a plan," Gideon stated, with some sort of understanding in his eyes.

Hotch looked at you all with hesitation before nodding in confirmation.

"That's right, I have. I've concluded that we have no choice but to set a trap."

At those words, his gaze rested on Spencer, which was enough for you to figure it all out even before the main subject did.

"With all due respect, Hotch, have you lost your mind?!"

And how exactly do you envision this?" Elle asked, not as shaken as you but clearly concerned. "Sure, he fits the profile of his victims, but how is he supposed to set himself up? Walk around town and hope to get kidnapped?"

"At least two of the victims were abducted on the same stretch of road, after getting off the bus at the same isolated bus stop while walking home alone. It’s an exceptionally safe location for him," your boss explained.

"Honestly, I’m not convinced," Derek interjected, staring ahead with a furrowed brow. "I just don’t think he’d use the exact same spot again. Word has probably spread around the area that the FBI is on the case. He might be more cautious and change his methods."

"But he might just as well try again," JJ said quietly. You looked at her with clear surprise, as you had expected that, with her characteristic care for the team, she would be against the idea. "Right now, it’s the only thing we can do to try to prevent another abduction."

You drew a breath, understanding her arguments but remaining entirely opposed. Your gaze finally fell on Spencer, for the first time since the idea had even been brought up. He was sitting very upright, his brow furrowed, and he slowly began nodding.

"JJ’s right, it’s the only thing we can do," he said. He wasn’t looking at Hotch, nor even at the team as a whole—he was looking at you, directly and only at you. A calming, slightly nervous smile crossed his face, making you scoff. "Nothing’s going to happen to me. You’ll all be around, on the bus, near the stop."

With his words, the decision was made, and all you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

"I want to be on the same bus," you declared desperately, crossing your arms over your chest. You simply couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Spencer was willingly putting himself in harm's way—especially when the unsub's desire was to hurt people like him. "I’ll pose as a civilian. A random young woman. I shouldn’t seem like a threat, and someone from our team has to be inside."

"You’re right," Hotch replied, looking at you with sharp attention. "But it will be Elle."

You and your friend exchanged a confused look, startled by the firmness in his voice.

"I don’t think it makes much of a difference," she tried to intervene, which made you feel grateful.

Although, it didn’t change anything…

"I’m not obligated to explain myself to you about this decision, especially in front of the entire team. This is an order," Hotch announced with almost brutal professionalism. "The only thing I can say is that we need someone who won’t break character until the very end. Someone who won’t let emotions cloud their judgment."

"Are you sure you’re up for this?" Gideon asked, directing the question at Spencer. His tone was understanding, prepared to accept any refusal without judgment.

This time, he didn’t look at you. As Spencer nodded in confirmation, he actually avoided your gaze.

"Then we have the whole day to prepare for the sting. Let’s hope this leads to catching the unsub," Hotch concluded the meeting, signaling that you could leave the table.

You were torn between staying and screaming at your boss or leaving the room after Reid. Well, the second option wouldn’t get you fired. And, honestly, it seemed like the better choice. It turned out he wanted to talk to you too, as he was clearly waiting for you in the narrow hallway of the inn, where animal antlers hung on the walls and an informational board about moose was displayed.

"Are you angry because I want to do this?" he asked, the narrow walls around you making you stand quite close. Well, not as close as you could be, but close enough to add gravity to the conversation and allow you to study his face carefully.

Especially his determination. The determination for this job, for solving the case, and for preventing others from suffering the same tragic fate at the hands of this killer. Finally, you understood that your reaction was a bit irrational. Because if the victims were young women with your looks... you’d agree to it without hesitation. Some hypocrisy, huh?

"No. I'm just terrified that you're going to do this," you confessed, your honesty and concern making his face twitch in surprise. You snorted, trying to ease the tension. "I’m angry at Hotch for calling me emotionally unstable in front of all of you."

Spencer smiled gently, though there was stress hiding behind it. He may have been determined to go through with it, but that didn’t change the fact that there was fear accompanying him. He tried not to show it, but anyone in his position would feel it.

"Well, in his defense, he phrased it a bit more subtly."

You let out a soft laugh, stretching your arm out to gently touch his forearm. As your hand slid up, you leaned in a little, the simple gesture helping you feel more grounded and at ease.

His gaze followed your movements with a gentle satisfaction. You didn’t pull him closer, you were simply stroking his arm in that easy, caring way that calmed both of you.

"You’ve never done this before, have you?" you asked quietly. "You’ve never put yourself in this position like this."

He shook his head in denial.

"I’m really... really worried that I’ll do something wrong and we won’t be able to catch him because of me."

"You should worry about yourself, Spencer. Not about that. I’m sure you’ll play your part better than anyone could. "But I really regret that I won’t be able to be right next to you, in case something goes wrong."

His lips parted and closed in a kind of... amusement?

"I was going to say that maybe Hotch could be convinced, but then I realized, no, he won’t be. No matter what you say. And besides, having you there wouldn’t let me focus fully."

"I’m aware of that," you joked, tossing your hair dramatically. "After all, I look stunning."

"I was more referring to the fact that I’d be focused only on making sure nothing happens to you, but yeah. That’s one of the reasons too."

You fell silent, oddly moved by that confession. It was so simple, driven by care, affectionate. And it definitely made your head spin in the context of your relationship. You shook your head, pulling yourself away from those thoughts. As long as you were in Alaska, you could afford anything. After that, who knows.

You swallowed and put on a playful expression, it came with some effort, but you managed.

"Okay, genius-boy. Let me prepare you. You need to know how to behave."

"I thought I was just supposed to be myself," he noted, letting you pull him by the wrist.

"Well, mostly, yes. But it's still better to rehearse, get you into character. Don't you have any random fun facts to share?"

"I always have some fun facts to share. An endless amount."

"We'll see."

For the rest of the day, up until the inevitable moment of setting the trap for the unsub, you listened carefully to everything he had to say. His constant chatter allowed him to occupy his mind, pushing the stress aside to the point that, when it was time for him to head to the designated location, he seemed almost surprised that the hour had come. Only then did certain shadows begin to cross his face.

You paced restlessly around the inn as the whole team prepared. Your task was to take a position with Gideon at a certain distance from the bus stop, to cut off the unsub's escape route if necessary. The bus driver had agreed to cooperate, and JJ was giving him instructions, asking him to act as naturally as possible. There were to be no civilians on board, only Elle and a few inconspicuous local police officers. Hotch and JJ planned to follow the bus from a distance by car. Morgan was to lay low at the bus stop, also posing as a civilian.

You moved closer to Spencer, breathing heavily, his presence alone calming you down.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him just before you were about to leave. Morgan gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and everyone was still gathered around you. You gently hugged him, just as any other friend would, just like Elle and JJ had moments before.

He, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned with appearances. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head in a strong, lingering embrace.

“Y/N, you and Gideon need to go now," Hotch interrupted.

As you were walking away, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he also gave Reid a brief squeeze on the shoulder.

It was a truly tense moment. You found yourself in a position where you had no visibility on what was happening inside the bus, nor could you gauge the gravity of the situation. All you could hear through the earpiece was Elle's whispered signal informing you that the suspect, fitting the profile, had just entered the vehicle.

And even though you didn’t have high hopes for the plan, everything unfolded exactly as it was meant to. Spencer exited the bus, and the unsub followed him. The suspect seemed intent on tracking him down that desolate, shadowy road, planning to attack and abduct him. But at the last moment, Reid turned, and before the man could react, he was surrounded by the police.

On your last night in Alaska, you found yourself on top, with his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his hands placed on your hips, and in a position where you could look at each other and talk.

"You really did great today," you praised, leaning in to gently kiss his collarbone.

He didn't seem flattered by your words, no smile on his lips, just that sad, aching expression that caused you pain. Wanting to shake off the feeling, you quickened your movements, hoping it would work, but then he tightened his embrace, making you slow down once again.

"I want... I want to enjoy you," he said with a slightly embarrassed tone, his fingers tracing restless, tender circles on your bare skin. "Since this is our last time together."

For a moment, he gazed at your face, as if hoping you would say something. But he couldn't find any trace in your expression that would suggest you had changed your mind. The small, naive spark in his eyes faded. Elle's words about breaking the cycle echoed in your mind, but not in your heart. You couldn't turn them into reality; you simply couldn't. The agreement remained the agreement.

Once you returned, everything would go back to how it was before.

another author's note: I plan to create a tag list and I want to know who among you would like to be on it. please, let me know in the comments.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being an Avenger with a low social battery

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Can I have the avengers with a reader who has a really bad social battery. Like they can be out in public and then they just disappear and are like “nah I’m done with these mofo’s””

the avengers are quite the rowdy bunch

but you always as excitable as them

these guys were often in the public eye, always being asked all sorts of questions

but you just couldnt handle it a lot of the time

"y/n, can i get a picture with you? you're my hero!" -fan

"uh...yeah, sure. big smile!" -you, completely exhausted

you tried to be nice and not obvious that you were drained but boy was it hard

especially when tony threw his parties

you'd typically sit in the corner with a drink and try to make it through the night

but there were always some guests who were just dying to come talk to you

"hey! why are you hiding over here, there's a party going on! come, have some fun!" -clueless party guest

"oh, i'm okay over here, thank you" -you

"i'll keep you some company, then. why don't you tell me a story of one of your avenger missions"

some people just could not take the hint

but the avengers usually knew when you'd had enough

"wanna get out of here?" -nat

"please." -you

you'd recharge alone whenever you escaped the madness

dont even get me started on the news

they would do anything to get an interview with you

"y/n! could you comment on the recent events in [country] that you accompanied the avengers in?" -reporter

"we were there, we saved the day" -you, obviously exhausted

"is that all you have to say?" -reporter

"hey! don't you want to hear what i have to say? huh?" -tony

"thanks, tony" -you

"no problem, kiddo" -tony

wanda got it

you liked spending time with her because she liked to be calm and alone sometimes too

you'd read or watch tv or listen to music together in silence for hours

it was nice

it was funny because sometimes the team would all be socializing and then bam

"hey, where's y/n?" -steve

"i think they tapped out" -clint

"oh. i'll go check on them" -steve

"no, just leave them alone, they'll be back" -tony

after a lot of missions you'd just wait for the avengers on the quinjet while they spoke to authorities or SHIELD or whoever

"just forward me the mission report, i'll fill it out" -you

everyone just kinda let you do your thing

which worked out just fine for you

it drove fury crazy back in the day

"just why are we giving y/n special treatment? what? they're tired?" -fury

"i didn't say that, i said they were over your shit" -tony

"you better not have said that, i'll give you one last chance" -fury

and that is just another reason you were depleted

some days were better than others, and sometimes you could keep up! but once your battery died, that was it

"'social battery,' you say? any way i could be of assistance? maybe a small jolt from mjolnir to charge it back up?" -thor

"oh, no, just a figure of speech, no need for...that" -you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[supernova41st]

Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who is genuinely terrifying. Like there quiet, sneaky, uncanny, basically reader is kinda like the mercs very own cryptid. (Bonus points if reader is tall af<3)

Boo 🤍

A/n: Spy’s is a little short here 😣 I hope you weren’t too eager to see his lol. I got a little experimental with this one, not too much tho. Also I’ll be going on another break, I know I just finished one but I’m going through an unexpected rough time rn. So sorry guys, hope you enjoy <33

Warnings: Video used may be a spoiler for s2 of scream queens, Praying is used in a humorous light

To start things off, you introduced yourself in the worst way possible. The bus that you were supposed to take got broken down so you had to find your way through the base without knowing where the entrance was. So what’d you do? Bang into a bunch of glass windows at 3am while it was RAINING. Some of the mercs were up trying to fix up the power generator and..

I saved that clip for weeks I’m so happy I have a reason to use it now

I know they’re all supposed to be big bad mercs but you scared the living FUCK out of them.

Scout

This man went running. He went all the way from the generator to the fucking bunks in the span of a minute! So what’d he do when he got to his room? He grabbed his cross necklace, got on his knees, and started PRAYING.

“Please god Jesus frickin’ Christ hear my prayers, save me-I’m sorry about all those magazines I keep under my bunk and I’m sorry that I told spy to go fuck himself when he told me I couldn’t pull bitches and I’m sorry I call girls bitches please just don’t let me friggin’ die dude!!”

He just kept chanting the same things until Miss Pauling found him cradling himself on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Scout what are you doing?”

“THERE IS A GHOST IN THE BASE.”

“Oh, you mean y/n?”

‘Hi 👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️’

Yea he was pretty freaked out by you. To make it worse, you always just stare at him. He can’t remember a single moment where he looked at you and didn’t catch your tiny pupils locked onto him.

At first he’d just gently wave awkwardly while you did the same so freakishly. Eventually he decided to say something because it was scaring him, something he’ll never admit

“Yo you got a problem or somethin’, what’s with all the stares?”

“Nothing, I just like looking at you. Your structure pleases me.”

“..oh, well that’s actually-wait I thought-hold on do you really-pfft-Yeesh, I didn’t expect you out of everyone to haha.. Yknow”

Yeah he was blushing like crazy, such a straightforward compliment.

He’s still scared of you, but he uses you as his hype man every now and then. He’ll fish for compliments and WILL receive them

“Dontcha think I got some nice racks for a guy?”

“..Totally”

He could literally walk up to you and threaten to kill you and your reaction is just “yuh go for it”

If you’re freakishly tall then he calls you tree. Cuz

If you’re on the shorter side then he would just pick you up from the shoulders and kiss you on the forehead. He knows you won’t do shit, you’re literally just 🧍‍♀️

(gotg reference)

“I am hideous? :(“

“You kiddin’? You’re horrifying to look at”

Engineer

He didn’t even notice everyone else went running, he just kept on working on the electrical box. So when he stood up and saw you staring straight into the glass, he jumped a little but was mostly just confused

“What in the..”

“tap tap-Can you let me in?”

You’re lucky he didn’t go running like everyone else, you probably would’ve died from the flu if you spent another second outside in the freezing rain.

He puts a bell on you. He just had one laying around and tied it around the your wrist, it didn’t work because of how stiff your movements were so to ‘help’ you rang it against his ear.

“..”

“…..🔔🔔🔔🔔”

“GOD DAMN IT- oh, y/n”

“Sorry, the bell wasn’t ringing how you wanted it to so I rang it myself”

“Uh-huh, thanks for the warning partner”

From my experience southern people love to make conversation, but you aren’t really familiar with that. So when he tries to flirt it gets pretty awkward

“How’s it goin’ sugar, I reckon your looking quite nice today”

“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️”

“..you gonna say anythin’ back?”

“Oh, um.. I like your face.”

“Woah, alright then.”

He feels so embarrassed when he stands next to your tall ass, it makes him feel belittled. Especially when you actively have to look down just to make eye contact

But if you’re short then he loves it. Finally for once he doesn’t have to be reminded of his height when standing next to anyone.

Spy

He’s gone as soon as you show up. Like straight up disappears. He doesn’t like to show fear-makes him look weak

He’s convinced you could still see him though, cuz you happen to look in his direction even while he was invisible.

You don’t scare him as much as the others, if anything he took a bit of a liking to you because you stressed him out the least compared to the others. He always stood next to you + you were always his first pick for missions

You always make small talk with him. He doesn’t enjoy it but he still responds

“What is under your mask?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Why? Do you look like me?”

Spy doesn’t know if he should feel offended or annoyed

You don’t necessarily startle him like everyone else but you do make his heart jump slightly when you pop out of nowhere, you can see it in his pupils but never his body.

Pyro

HE RAN TOO BUT DIDN’T KNOW WHY LMFAO

He just saw everyone running and went ‘oh okay we’re doing this now 🏃‍♂️’

But seriously, he fell in love with you at first sight. Your features felt so intricate to him, you always gave each other blank stares, zoning into each other’s eyes.

‘⚫️ ⚫️’

“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️ hi”

“⚫️ ⚫️ mmf”

You’re the only person who can fully understand him. No, not using his body language, you can actually tell what he’s saying. He aw’s at that, finally someone knows what he’s saying.

It makes him more self aware than how he was before, he’ll say some really petty shit and when you react he panics

“Mmph mmm”

“um pyro I need you to calm yourself”

“Mm!”

Somehow you disturb HIM, you’ll point something out to him and talk to him like he’s crazy which makes him crazy

“Pyro, you reek of fire, it’s 30° outside, and it’s a cease day. Do you have any thoughts?”

“Mmmf mmm mph ☹️”

*plz leave me alone

Since you and him are so observant, the rest of the mercs are a little spooked by you guys. You’ll be in the corner with him watching and everyone is fairly weirded out.

“Mm mmmfmm mm”

“Pyro you’re hilarious.”

“What did thing say?”

“He said that if you were a littlest pet shop figure you’d be #508”

“..heavy is not sure what he expected”

[visenyaism]

I haven't read the main series yet and I'd love to know the lore behind Harrenhal, love see you and others post about it but I sadly don't get all of it 😭

sit down followers it’s story time. Once upon a time there was this guy named King Harren Hoare. and he was king of the iron Islands where he was from, but he decided he wanted to be king of more than that also. so he invaded the Riverlands and conquered it all which was pretty easy because they were fighting each other like they always are instead of him. but being king of two places wasn’t enough he also needed to have the biggest baddest castle in all of the land. So he rounded up a bunch of smallfolk in the nicest most central important location in the riverlands and got them to building it. In his hubris he got too into it and mixed actual human blood into the mortars of the castle. unlike other feudal castles, this one is both literally and figuratively made from peasant blood. 

but he got his castle and it is in fact the biggest in the entire seven kingdoms. It’s notable for its five huge (now wrecked) stone towers. A million men could march on that thing and slide right off. but he forgot to account for the WMD metaphor that being Aegon Targaryen and his sisters flying in on their big big dragons, wanting to conquer everything that he had previously conquered. he refused to surrender because he thought his blood castle would keep him safe and they burned him and all his sons alive in it.

Ever since then, Harrenhal is this half-burned wreck of a castle but no family has been able to hold onto without all dying for more than two generations. my fav occupant was danelle lothston, a girlknight cannibal blood witch who later got executed for bathing in too much peasant blood. in the main series, the whole thing about Harrenhal is that it was the site of this tourney that happened when the main cast were teenagers where jaime lannister got knighted, ned got a crush on a dayne maybe, and lyanna got crowned queen of love and beauty by a very married rhaegar targaryen, all of which set up their generation-defining war. Harrenhal is also this cursed deeply hunted liminal space where time seems to be a lot looser. everyone thinks it’s cursed. there are many theories as to why, including:

1) harrenhal is cursed because of harren’s hubris, which is like the hubris of the lords (usually un-landed) who get handed the castle because they think they can turn it around.

2) the harrenhal curse is an allegory for feudalism, a castle made from peasant blood that eats the grasping lords who get handed it whole.

3) the harrenhal “curse” it’s just that it’s too big to defend and it’s centrally located in the Riverlands, which is important in every single war so it just sort of gets chewed up all the time and there’s no actual magic involved.

4) the Harrenhal curse is just the fact that Aegon’s descendants (Maegor, Rhaena, Daemon, etc) do have a tendency to keep coming back to kill everyone there.

5) the Harrenhal curse is a freaky blood thing that has something to do with its blood walls and a lot to do with its weirwood and the nearby isle of faces, an old god island no mortal, has ever successfully gone to, but several people have died trying. the castle is hungry for blood. 

Ultimately it is a super important place and also this haunted torment labyrinth sometimes the author will just stick characters like daemon or jaime into if they need to be stuck in introspective agony for a while. The current lord is littlefinger so everyone manifest it comes for him soon. 

[deadlymistletoe]

Fears and Bandages

Pairing: Thranduil x F!reader

Request: @frustrated-kitten asked: I thought maybe I could request a Thranduil x FemReader where she returns with several injuries after fighting a bunch of spiders with Legolas and some other elves? Some small wounds, some more serious, but in the end she survives and everything goes well?

A/N: I hope it’s what you wanted - I was going to make it more angsty but this is what came out and it stuck.

Genre: slight hurt/comfort

Description: Thranduil’s composure cracks as he waits for you to come home from battling the spiders. He’s only able to put his fears to rest once he’s bandaged you up himself.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries. Stitches.

Word count: 1582

Thranduil’s foot tapped against the ground, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest of his throne. Besides the two guards posted at the entrance to the room, the rest of his subjects were steering clear of him.

He didn’t blame them for avoiding him while he was like this - after all, had it been someone else fidgeting he would have been annoyed himself.

It was rare for the composed elvenking to fidget as he was, to betray any hint of apprehension, but today was the exception.

It was well known that there were two people on this earth that Thranduil would do absolutely anything to keep safe, and it just so happened that both of them had gone headfirst into a dangerous situation.

The first, his only son, Legolas. Since the elf had first looked up at him from his mother’s with those wide blue eyes Thranduil had known that he would do anything for him.

After his wife had died that feeling had only strengthened, as the meaning in his life centered around the elfling who was quickly becoming one of the realm's best archers.

For a long time, nothing had changed, until he met the second person he would come to care about more than he would have thought possible. You.

Thranduil had never even considered that he might love again after his wife passed, but then you’d come into his life and he’d found himself falling faster than should have. And he just knew that he couldn’t lose you too. History couldn’t repeat itself. He wouldn’t let it.

Of course, that was easier said than done since you, much like Legolas, continuously risked your safety to fight the spiders that continued to invade the Greenwood.

Thankfully for him, you’d stepped back from the danger once the two of you fell in love and you took to the role of Thranduil’s consort - soon-to-be-queen, but the latest nest was bigger than usual and the spiders began to get more bold so you’d insisted on joining Legolas for the raid.

So now Thranduil sat, fidgeting like an impatient elfling, waiting for news. 

He felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time - helpless.

Yes, Legolas had promised to make sure you both came back in one piece, but Legolas was also known for saying he was ‘fine’ when he had a gaping wound - Valar forbid he find out what his son’s definition of ‘one piece’ was.

Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh. He knew better than to doubt the abilities of you and his son, but sometimes he just couldn’t help but worry. After all, the last time his son had left the palace with a mother-figure, only one of them had come back - granted, that was when Legolas was a child with none of the skills he had now. But still.

He immediately straightened up, movements freezing when Galion ran up the steps leading into the room. “They’re back, my lord.”

Thranduil wasted no time making his way down the steps, Galion rushing to keep up with him as they made their way to the front gates. “Is everyone okay?” Are they okay?

“Everyone’s alive.” Those words were less reassuring than they should be. The mirkwood elves had a habit of using the term ‘alive’ rather loosely.

When he reached the entrance, those gathered around instantly parted for him to make his way towards the glimpse of pale hair he’d noticed through the crowd.

None of the patrol had been completely spared, that was certain, as scratches adorned each of their complexions, the darker blood of the spiders splattered over their uniforms.

Healers had already dispersed amongst the warriors, vials of antidote in hand just in case, and he was relieved to see that Legolas had no obvious signs of injury as he drew closer.

Legolas saw him coming and turned to meet him, voice low as he spoke. “There were more than we expected. We weren’t prepared, a second lot ambushed us after the fight had already started.”

Thranduil placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze - a show of affection that still kept a semblance of formality. “You did well.”

He hesitated, not wanting to brush his son off but at the same time needing to see you. Legolas saved him from asking, nodding towards where a healer was bent over a figure on a bench. You, he realized.

“She’s okay.” Legolas murmured. “Just a bit more cut up than the rest of us.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve been on guard to make sure she didn’t injure herself more running off to find you before the healers got to her.”

Thranduil’s lips twitched, holding back a smile as he made his way towards you, Legolas following behind.

It didn’t take long for you to look up at the familiar footsteps, a smile spreading across your lips despite the sting as the healer cleaned up a deep wound across your shoulder.

When the healer took her hands from you to rummage through her supplies you immediately took the chance to push yourself to your feet, moving around her and meeting Thranduil half way, his arms naturally finding their way around your waist as you stumbled slightly.

He smirked slightly looking over your shoulder. “I do believe Lothael is about to scold you for using her distraction to your advantage.”

Your healer, Lothael, had followed you, rolling her eyes. She gave Thranduil a wry look. “Yes, well, I can’t imagine that the king wants his queen-to-be to bleed out on the floor.”

Thranduil’s eyes quickly ran over your wounds, double-checking that you weren’t in imminent danger of bleeding out, and lingering on the deeper ones before looking back at Lothael. “I can take it from here, thank you.”

He knew that technically the healer had more better skills than him in the art, but at the same time, he also knew that the only way to completely reassure himself that you weren’t about to bleed out was if he did it himself - he needed to know that he’d checked and taken care of your wounds with his own hands.

It was only when the two of you had left the view of the other elves, leaving Legolas in charge, that you let yourself lean against the wall with a groan, the pain that had been throbbing in your leg since the adrenaline had worn off on the walk home forcing you to give it a break.

Thranduil, whose hand had been resting on your back, ready to steady you at any moment should you need it, gave you a worried look as you pulled away from him to use the wall as support.

“I’ll be fine,” You muttered, grimacing. “It’s just demanding a rest.”

Thranduil gave you a calculated look, and before you could say anything or even begin to wonder what he was thinking, he swept you off your feet, your arms automatically going around his neck as he carried you bridal-style down the hall.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, a smile crossing his own face at the sound. “What are you doing?”

He glanced down at you, a small smile dancing across his lips. “Why, I’m carrying to your chamber’s, my lady. Valar knows you’d collapse halfway there if I didn’t.”

You laughed before quieting down and leaning your head against his chest. “I’m tired, Thranduil.” You murmured, the toll today had taken on your body catching up to you.

He looked at you with a soft look reserved only for you. “I know, Meleth. You can rest soon.”

You sighed, staying silent as he reached your shared chambers and laid you on the bed, letting you sink into the silks and furs that covered the mattress.

You had started to drift off when you suddenly felt something cold seep into one of the deeper wounds, pressure keeping it there. You jerked away from the cold sting, but a hand held you in place, and you felt Thranduil’s silky hair brush against your skin as he lent over you to brush his lips against your forehead.

“I’m just cleaning them.” He murmured. “Relax.”

You let out a shuddering breath as he moved the cloth, a few tears slipping down the side of your face as he continued on to stitch the wound closed.

Your strong facade you’d kept up in the entrance and on the journey home hope had dissipated, as had your energy now that you were with the one you didn’t have to act strong for.

Thranduil whispered apologies and reassurances as he cleaned and bandaged the rest of your wounds with a gentleness that could only come from a lover’s hands, occasionally wiping the tears from your face and running his fingers through your hair at a particularly harsh sting.

It felt like hours later when the last wound was taken care of and you heard the quiet clink as Thranduil set the glass bottle of ointment aside.

He remained seated at your size, gentle fingers brushing over your face and hair as he gazed down at you, his own fears put aside now that he’d tended to you.

You held his gaze, relishing the cool touches until you felt your eyes begin to droop, and the last thing you were aware of was the feather-light lips that brushed against yours and the whispered, “Sleep, Meleth.” as you drifted off, Thranduil’s fingers soothingly carding through your hair.

Everything Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

If you wish to join my taglist to be notified when I post new fics, click here. For my Tolkien Masterlist, click here. For my Main Masterlist, click here.

[misguidedasgardian]

Hour of the Wolf (7)

VII. Pestilence

MASTERLIST

Summary: Unbeatable, dangerous enemies make their way through the Red Keep

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, SPOILERS IN WARNINGS, sickness, epidemic, people dying, angst

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5 k

Notes: Alright, so there had been a few times skips through the chapters, since they got married it’s been like 2 months, and in here trough outs like another two. Sorry for any mistakes I wrote this in notes and barely choked it

“Anything else?”, you asked your council, “maybe something that you had been keeping from me?”, you were still punishing them with your tough words, even though it's been two weeks since the Iron Fleet situation

Tyland decided to chuckle, as to relieve the tension

“No your grace”

“There is something that had been brought to my attention, your grace”, muttered the Grand Maester, “concerning reports from the White Harbour”, Cregan raised his eyes, “just got the raven this morning… A strange disease has been spreading… people are getting shivers, fever, and then… perishing”

“How bad is it?”, you asked, then you looked at your husband

“The disease appeared first on the three sisters”, he said, “many are dead, half the population…”

“How come we haven’t heard of this before?”, you asked

“I do not know your grace, it appears the Vale wanted to keep it guarded, as they blame it on people from Ibbe, slaughtering the bunch, they did not want to raise alarms”

“For the gods”, you cursed, truly concerned, “I want you to keep communications open with theirs maesters, send them everything we might have on how to deal with this diseases, on the library, I will bet there is information”, you commanded, “also keep the line open with The Citadel, they must have even much information”

“Yes your grace”, said the maester, knowing that you did not said that lightly

“We will help as we can, but we cannot send help physically”, you observed

“Agreed, we need to discourage the spreading of the disease”, muttered Lord Celtigar, “In my travels, I witnesses many diseases, I shall help the maester on the gathering of information”

“That will be much appreciated”, you said, nodding your head at your maester of laws

“We must be careful of the ships and envoys that come from the Vale and from White Harbour, but at the same time, we must aid one of the most important trading points in the North”, determined Cregan

“I agree, with winter fast approaching, we cannot impair the North of their most important harbor”, you said, looking at the naked table in front of you, “how I wish we had the painted table in front of us”, you whispered

“I’ll arrange a well drawn map to be able to us here in the small council chamber”, muttered the Maester

“Thank you”, you said, relieved

“Lord Celtigar, I wish to know about Harrenhal”, you said, looking at your master of Laws

“I’m not gonna lie, events happened in that cursed place from which I have no explanation”, he muttered, “a man died in front of me, because the so-called Queen Witch of Harrenhal command it”, you frowned, thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious

“Some say it was a well time bolt that made that man’s head explode your grace, but, I did not see any arrows”

“What of her?”, you asked

“She presented me with a boy, with blonde hair, she claimed it is Aemond Targaryen’s son, and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne”

You chuckled darkly, the audacity of your uncle, of openly calling your brothers and you bastards, developing a hate that led him to kill your baby brother, only to bed none other than a Strong bastard, and siring a bastard himself, if he had lived, you would have killed him again.

Specially after what he did to you

“We surrounded the castle, took it by storm, killing all the traitors, but, when we storm what would be the royal apartments… she was gone, her and the child, we do not know were she is, or how she could have escaped”, he said, looking at your face for any indications of what you were thinking

“Be honest, should I be concerned?”, you asked then

“I do not think so, your grace, nobody would believe her, and even if they did… I don’t think so, you are well settled in your throne, and… even so… other than the Hightowers, nobody has real reason to raise against you”, you barely nodded, “nobody has the strength, the kingdoms are still healing, and will be so for at least the next five years”

“Raise alarms, in case she is spotted”, you said only, you wanted to eliminate all traces of your uncles, treachery, and war, “what else?”

“The Blackwoods request audience”, muttered Cregan, “Lord Blackwood’s eldest daughter Alyssane is seeking for a husband, let it be reminded the Blackwoods were great supporters of your mother during the war, thanks to them we defeated the Baratheon Army, eliminating Lord Borros, and… The Riverlands turned black because of them”

“And they are welcomed in my court, I shall receive them with open arms, and a banquet in their honor”, you commanded

“I’ll make the arrangements”, muttered Lord Redwyne

“The Iron Fleet, or what remains, the flagship has been spotted sailing here, to King’s landing”

“Have they made their intentions clear?”, you asked

“They wave white flags, request an audience”, you only scoffed, “they claim that, they want to gaze upon the Dragon Queen”

“Of course”, you muttered, “let’s welcome them then, we are home, they are but a few, we shouldn’t be concerned”

Nobody opposed the idea, so they barely nodded

“Of course prepare escorts, I would not let them be for a second while they are here, eyes on them at all times”

Gazing upon the face of the Red Kraken himself gave you a sensation of… disappointment

You were disappointed of him, from the tales, stories of men that had faced him in open sea and also in lands, were the tales of a man that didn’t belong to the land of the living, rather, he had come from the darkest parts of the ocean ready to reclaim land back to the depths

A ruthless men, bloodthirsty, with no remorse or fear of death

“Your grace”, he greeted, bowing theatrically 

“Lord Dalton”, you greeted seriously

“The songs do not do justice to your beauty”

“Is that so?”, you did not like his tone, not the mock in his voice and features of his face 

“You are more than they say”, he continued

“And what else do they say about me, Lord?”, you asked mockingly, Cregan, by your side, glanced at you, clearly asking you to not engage

“They say men rule in your stead”, he said, you only smiled

“As I have proven, that is not entering true”, you smirked, he chuckled darkly

“That is true”

“So you raided one of my seven kingdoms… to prove me, test me”, you said, now more serious

“I wanted to see who sat the Iron Throne”, he said, “a dragon, or wolves and lions”

You grew bored of this character quickly looking for help in your small council and other lords gathered there

“now it’s clear to me, so I’ve come to offer… other services”, your eyes went back to him

“Services?”, you asked, you did not like the smirk of his face, “such as?”

“Well I’d offer my hand in marriage but… I see I’m too late for that…”, Cregan took a step forwards, anger taking a hold on him, “but I don’t mind being the second”

“You are overstepping”, your husband grunted.

He was not going to allow some guy just coming here and shamelessly think he could just… have you

“All Kings and Queens have lovers”, he said dismissively, “you don’t have to be the exception”

“right…”, you mumbled looking for the eyes of your Queensguard, to ask him to remove him, “I thought you seek audience to reintegrate yourself and your people to the rest of the realms, for the common fool, but you had just come here to make a mockery out of diplomacy”

“your grace you misunderstood, it is costumers for us ironborns to have salt wives… and rock wives”, he said, entertained, by you, you were getting angry, “together, we could have children not only with fire in their veins, but in their head as well”, people laughed, but Cregan was not amused, “worthy of the throne”

“That is enough”, you demanded, “I only need but one husband”, you said, and the court chuckled, “if you are here to mend bonds with the realm you might stay, Lord Dalton, otherwise and although I thank yo Igor your offering, I kindly reject it”, people laughed again and that did not pleased the Kraken, soon, he left and if he had his armada on its entirety, you would be weary, but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

The mood swiftly changed when another introduction was made

“The Lady Alyssane of house Blackwood” presented a guard, you’d think she would have come with the rest of her family, but she presented herself alone in front of you

She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen, also, her reputation precedes her. She fought in the war, she led armies, she killed hundreds with bow and arrow.

She was someone to admire

She was the head of her house until her little brother came of age

“Your grace, it’s an honor, thank you for receiving me”, of course she ceased the first word

“Lady Alyssane you are most welcome, I hope you find what you are looking for, you are welcome to stay at court as much as you need to”, she only smiled, bowing perfectly, she also looked at your husband and hand, but… you didn’t like I one bit.

Having the Ironborns at court was one thing, having the Blackwoods was another, it changed the dynamic in the entire court

The former were constantly and daily have dinner with you, and lady Alyssane would sit beside Cregan, and they would chat all night…

You didn’t like it, not at all

But it would be childish of you to chide Cregan for something he didn’t have power over, right?

“But I find that hunting with a spear… is it too slow” the woman giggled, and you could see the conversation had sparked something in Cregan, he was entertained, he was speaking of something he enjoys, a rare thing to find with him

Is not like you did not trusted Cregan, but it was still painful to watch, so you retired early, as many of the other women at court, and left Cregan, the men, and the lady Alyssane, drinking and laughing like old mates.

You were not worried or concerned, only tired by the events of the day.

Cregan though, as soon as you left, was left himself with a sense of emptiness, he found the situation uncomfortable, and soon, followed you

Cregan was on his way to your now shared chambers when he encountered little Jahaera walking in the same direction, a small red blanket in her arm, rubbing her tired face with the other 

“Little one, where are you going?”, as soon as she saw him she whined, hugging onto the hand of the nanny that was taking her

“I’m very sorry my lord, she woke up, and wanted to see the Queen”

“Leave us, I’ll take her”, he said, and she, with reluctance, let go of her tiny hand and walked away

He kneeled on the floor just in front of her, with a soft expression on his face

“Why can’t you sleep, little dragonling?”

“I don’t want anyone else to go away”, she whined, her teary eyes make him sad, “If I sleep, she’ll go away”, she explained

“What do you mean?”, he asked softly

“At night… my brother went away… then I went to sleep, and my mommy went away, and then my papa, he went away, when he went to sleep…”, she whined, bitter tears falling from her beautiful eyes

Cregan’s heart broke

“I don’t want my aunty mommy to go away too”, she said

“She won’t, I promise you”, he said

“How do you know?”, she asked, rubbing her eyes

“Because I will protect her with my life, us Starks, we always keep our word, did you know?”, he asked softly

“You will take care of my new mama?”

“I promise you little one”, he said, “and you know, I’m married to your mama, so..”, she only smiled, and hugged him. He hugged her back, stading up and carrying her to the chambers. “one more night you can sleep with your new mommy alright?”, he asked

Jahaera barely nodded again his neck.

She was already sleeping by the time he entered the chambers to find you looking at him with the softest eyes, and the most beautiful smile he had seen.

That little girl and your brother where your family, and he had married you so, they became his family, he needed to step up, and help you with those children

He was determined, he thought the very next day, as he finished his short prayers in the Godswood, he wanted to go back to the Keep, to speak to Ser Arryk about prince Aegon’s training, or the start of.

That boy was too very sad… he needed to look forwards, you needed to fill his mind with something more… history, philosophy, training, to keep him mind fed and occupied with something else.

He walked trough the beautiful garden, thinking about inviting you to eat something outside, that would make you happy

“I must say I’m dissapointed”, Cregan raised his gaze to meet the beautiful Alyssane Blackwood

“The Capital is not to your liking?”, he asked

“Well, no if the betrothal I was hoping to get is… already married”, now that surprised him, looking at her

“My Lady”

“You are a price I was hoping to catch”, she continued, smirking

“Well, you are too late”, he said, trying to make it lighter, with a smile on his face, but she was not releasing her predatory stance 

“A pity”, she muttered, looking mindesly at the flowers of the garden, “we could have been great you know”

“Probably”, he muttered

“Are you really happy here in the capital?”, she asked, “wouldn’t you have prefered a wife? A lady of Winterfell?”

“I would prefer no one but the one I gave my word to”, he said, now all serious, he was not going to be polite anymore, “and you are out of line, my lady”

“Just playing with what could have been”, she said, not altered at all by his serious words

“I thought the idea was to look for a match”, they both turned to see you approaching them, “not get into one”, you said bitterly

“Your grace”, she said, now alarmed, as she saw you approaching

“I think you overstayed your welcome, Lady Blackwood, since you found no prospects on this week, you best try somewhere else”, you said simply, standing by Cregan’s side.

She barely nodded, and bowed lightly

“Thank you for your hospitality your grace, but you are right I must take my leave, and hunt in other woods”, she muttered and then she left quite quickly.

You watched her lean and tall figure leave, she was beautiful, her eyes as green as forests, and her hair long, black and lustrous

“It is a pity, if she had been here sooner… maybe she would have managed to hunt you”, you whispered, and then walked on the other direction.

Cregan called your name, but you didn’t turn back, you just kept walking

Cregan haden’t entertained her, but her words still lingered in your ears. You had make him marry you, perhaps he would have preferred a real wife, a lady, a partner for him to take North and be a mother to his child and give him more, that supports him in leading his people, not all the way around

But it was too late now. 

What was done was done, is not like you threatened with your dragon for him to marry you, but still, the inavility of managing a match for yourself is what chained him to a life he didn’t even want.

You had commissioned a pathway from the gardens to exit the castle by a stone hallway, that led to the cliffs sorrounding King’s Landing, were your dragon rested, you wanted to see her, maybe even take a little flight. 

This stone hallway was tall, windy, and open, much like the one leading to the castle in Dragonstone, Cregan followed you closely

“I didn’t entertain her…”, he explained

“I’m aware”, you answered, but not stopping your movements 

“Please”

“Cregan”, you stopped turning to look back at him, “I’m aware you didn’t entertain her, but she is right, I can’t help but think in the “what if”, you explained, “what if I didn’t make you marry me? you could have been back in Winterfell, with your child and your people”

“Yes maybe”, he growled, “but I married you”

“Because of a pact you made when my borthers were still alive”, you said simply, turning to keep walking, but he grabbed you

“Not only because of that”, he growled, looking into your eyes, “I wanted to marry you”, he said

“Why?”

“Why!?”

“Why? because of power?”, you asked

“Not only that”, he said, looking intently into your eyes

“Because I’m broken?”, you asked then, “because I’m a danger to the country?”

“No…”, he said, you both into eachtoher’s eyes, he moved slowly, like you were some wild animal, and he palced his hand on the side of your face. “Because to me you are the most beautiful woman in the seven Kingdoms, because I desired you, you are what I have been promised”, you didn’t know what to say, “I will have half a life with you, and half a life away, but… at least I have something of you”, he said

You kept quiet, the world seemed to stop for a second, and all around you, only the two of you existed.

“I have never been much of a poet”, he said, chuckling darkly, “and I only must say, nobody would have make me marry you if I didn’t want you”, he said this time more darkly, you leaned in kissing him, he kissed you back, trapping your lips on his greedily

“I wanted you too”, you said, “because you and I… were ment to be together”, you said certainly 

“Fire and Ice”, he said, “nobody make us marry, we chose it, because we knew, together we could have everything”, he said with a husky voice, “power, love, a family”

“Together”, you confirmed, sealing your words with another longing kiss, “We need to settle in our roles as husband and wife”, you whispered with an entertained voice

“I’ll settle you in our bed as of right now”, he growled, “But I will settle for having you here…”

“No!”, you giggled as he grabbed you pulling you towards the grass on the other side of the passage.

He layed you down in the open, where anybody could see

“The nerve of that woman”, he growled over you, “of ever thinking I could have chosen her, instead of you”

“the audacity”, you chuckled 

“Perhaps we should have her watch as I ravage you”, he said opening the top of your riding gear, his mouth on the skin of your neck and collarbones

“Cregan Stark!”, you shrieked, “I didn’t know this side of you”, you moaned, as you spread your legs to fit his form between them. 

“We have the power, and our love… let’s make our family”, he whispered against your neck, “dark haired children worthy of the throne…” he mocked the words of Dalton

Cregan and you shared looks over the table, little smirks, you two were like two giggly lovers from the stories

“Concerns about the desease are increasing, despise out best efforts, it’s coming trough the port…”, muttered the Grand Maester, bringing the attention back to the situation at hand, “there is no control…”, he was interrupted when Tyland coughed, trying to hide it in a hankerchief, now you noticed that… he looked sickly

“Are you well, Tyland?”, you asked with concern, as the man looked possibly ghostly, pale, heavy sweat on his forehead

“Forgive me your grace”, he coughed, “I do not feel well”

Cregan stood from the table like a spring, and grabbed you, pushing you gently backwards towards the window

“Get away, hold your breath”, he commanded, all the men stood from the table, taking steps back from Tyland

“I’m well”, he tried to argue, but Arryk grabbed your other side, using his cape to cover your face, making you blind, but both men led you out of the room.

“Is this necessary?”, you asked, concerned

“Very”, growled Cregan, “the Winter fever has reached the Red Keep, take the necessary measures, nobody meets anyone, people should stay in their apartments”

“Yes M’Lord”, muttered Arryk

They finally released you in your rooms

“Wait!”, you called as they left you alone and were about to close the door, “what about Aegon and Jahaera?”

“We need to keep you separated”, he said firmly, “in case…”, your eyes filled with tears

“Yes I understand”, you murmured 

“We will keep them together”, he assured you, “nobody will see them…”

“Wait!”, you called as he was about to close the door, “stay here with me”

“Someone needs to organize this”, he said seriously

“Not you!”, you called

“I have to”, he said seriously, and he closed the doors, trapping you inside 

You were loosing your mind….

You had books, they brought you food and Cregan would come at the door and give you updates twice a day…

You had done all you could, you had commanded medicine to be send, as well as the knowledge to help the cities fight this, but they wouldn’t let you out, you hadn’t seen anyone in weeks. At least half the Kingdoms had fallen into madness and sickness

“Tyland… didn’t make it” Cregan whispered against the door, “10 servants didn’t either”, you shed bitter tears at the other side of the door

“Gods… Tyland”, you whined

“Alicent has fallen to the sickness as well”, he murmured, but you heard him alright

“What about Aegon and Jahaera?”

“They ask about you constantly, yet… they are in good spirits, with their Nannies who had also scaped this”

“Good”, you whispered, “please send word to Casterly Rock”

“Already did, those lucky bastards weren’t hit by the desease, neither has the Reach nor Dorne, it seemed it is stuck in the Crownlands, the Vale and the North"

"at least some of us are spared"

"its been a moon since Tyland was sick, we will get trough this", he said, "the worst is…", he got quiet, and you whined when you heard a cough

"Cregan?", you asked

"I'm fine, some dust sneaked his way to my throat", he said lightly

“Are you sure?”, you asked, grabbing the knob of the door

“Yes” he said, “A message has arrived from the Citadel from the maesters, I should tend to it” he said

“Please come back”, you begged

“Always”, he said, and left you

The next day… he didn’t came back

“His grace has taken abed your grace”, said Ser Arryk, “the maester is tending to him”. You opened the door, to his surprise

“Your grace”

“If the maester falls sick we are all dead, I’ll tend to him”

“No!” He said trying to grab you, but only one look and he desisted

You ran down the hallways and entered his rooms…

Cregan laid in his bed, pale, you could see the sweat on his forehead, and the shivers running up and down his arms and his whole body. You were by his side in a minute, grabbing his hand

“Cregan”, you called, but to no answer, his eyelids fluttered, he seemed like he was going to open his eyes, but he didn’t, instead he just mumbled something, sounded more like a grunt.

The Grand Maester didn’t lie to you…

Most… almost all of those who catched the fever perished…

You needed to prepare for the worst… and yet, your eyes filled with tears and a desperation consumed you, as you started crying silently

“Please don’t leave me”, you cried, “please”, you begged, grabbing onto his hand tightly, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you”, you admitted, he squeezed your hand a little

“Rickon”, he whispered, in his feverish dreams, “my son”, you frowned, concerned, at the worry on his features even in his sleep

He was calling for his son, the son you had kept him from, the only son he had.

You placed your hand on your lower belly, then you placed his hand there

“You need to get better”, you begged, “your son needs you, the North needs you… our baby needs you… I need you”, you prayed, his naked chest was pearled with sweat he was burning up. You stood up removed your clothes and laid by his side grabbing into him, making sure your body stuck to his as much as you could, so you’ll lower his body temperature with yours, after giving him the medicine indicated by the doctor.

It all depends on him, and the gods.

Taglist.

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31

[tanoraqui]

now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.

First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”

That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!

That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:

- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.

- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.

- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."

- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.

- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.

- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.

AND THEN...

Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.

They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.

They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)

Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.

Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.

He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.

[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]

Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.

This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.

They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!

Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.

It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.

(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)

Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!

…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)

As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.

[harzilla]

For the long sibling au, what if Yuu was like a bastard child like it's Leona's mum, but the mum had an affair with a magicless human? So on top of having no beastman features and no magic, they were born they also look nothing like either of Leona and Falena's parents, making it obvious Yuu is an affair baby (affair baby yuu has more similar features to their bio dad). The royalty court wanting to cover this up basically (Kifaji had no idea of this of course) yoinks baby Yuu from their crib and somehow magics up a portal and throws them to earth in hopes they'll never be seen again.

- 🐐

Ohh that is really interesting and potentially very angsty. This came to me a lot easier then I thought.

Tw: angst, infant "death", lots of shitty adults in general.

So imagine for whatever reason, the queen falls pregnant with another man's child. The bedroom affairs of the royal family are kept incredibly hush hush. But the queen ends up pregnant. Perhaps the only three who know are the king, the queen, and the affair partner. Of course Farena and Leona are clueless. Leona is around four years old. Not yet the cynic he is now, so he's genuinely excited. All they know is their mother is going to have a baby and they're going to have a new little brother or sister.

The queen eventually giving birth and labor goes poorly. The queen survives but she's very weak, has to be carefully monitored to ensure she recovers. The baby is alive, taken to be checked over and cleaned up, but it's a shock that it's a child that is free of any beastman features.

The council is quickly informed and they're in an uproar. There's no way the public can know about this child. This would cause a scandal. Destroy the reputation of the queen, bring a mark of disgrace to the Kingscholar line. There's no way a bastard child can be allowed to stay in the palace.

So the council comes up with a plan.

They'll get rid of it and lie.

They, without the Queen's knowledge they go to the king and whisper into the King's ear. The child isn't yours, your majesty. What will the people think? This would shake the people's trust in her highness, in you. She's so terribly weak right now, just imagine what this could do to her. You know what you must do, right?

So the king decides to put his family first and orders they get rid of the baby. The lie is simple, the queen is to be told the baby died shortly after birth. Complications from the labor and such. The public are told that the third Kingscholar child had returned to their ancestors. Maybe the king isn't completely heartless and uses a very ancient spell known only to a select few.

The baby is whisked away by a magic spell that sends it to a place where it should never be able to return to the Sunset Savannah.

So the little baby ends up in our world. Baby who soon gets placed up for adoption. Baby who grows up and on the outside they look like every other kid. But they're just not right. Their senses are noticably sharper then others. Even as they got older and ran blood work, nobody could figure it out. No DNA matches came up when they searched. The closest explanation is the doctors think Yuu has some kind of genetic mutation. Yuu's family is a blank slate.

Yuu grows up to get into a bunch of fights. Their adoptive parents scolding them for getting into a fight. Yuu points out that the other person insulted them by saying that they were trash and it was no wonder their bio parents got rid of them. Just growing up to be very physical towards their bullies.

Yuu eventually ends up in Twisted Wonderland. All of 16 years old, they're sarcastic, snide. They don't exactly have the best opinion of others. But they gradually warm up to the idea of people here might actually care about them.

Eventually it's figured out that Yuu isn't fully human and actually has some beastman DNA. Yuu at first thinks this is impossible, because beastman don't exist back home. But the DNA test proves that Yuu has beastman ancestry, even pegging it as lion beastman. Narrowing it down to sunset savannah(DNA records for the royal family are not available to the public.)

Eventually Yuu heads to the Sunset Savannah with Leona during cloud calling. Hoping they can track down somebody from their bio family. Leona originally planned not to bring them but they wormed their way in like they always do. Leona already has his suspicions about Yuu and he uses the royal family database to compare his and Yuu's DNA. He's shocked because he thought Yuu might just be a distant relative but they're actually a close enough match to be half siblings. He might only have a very vague memory but he's never forgotten how his mother mourned her third child.

Leona's father is ill, his health degrading. But Leona still manages to get the truth out of him. Leona has always hated how complicit his Father has been in keeping the status quo.

It's Yuu who takes it the worst. Being told that the royal family and Kingscholar line will always come first. They had to get rid of them because otherwise they could have potentially been a threat to the legitimate children and their future heirs.

It's enough to finally break the facade of will power and confidence Yuu has used to survive in Twisted Wonderland. They've been through so much. They always felt like an outsider no matter where they were. They finally had felt like maybe they were building some kind of life here. It wasn't until they became close with Ace and Deuce that they felt like somebody actually had their back for once in their life.

But this? The absolute look of disgust Leona had that day towards his father and the council will never be forgotten by those who witnessed the tragic spectacle.

[seat-safety-switch]

Children love nothing more than a castle. Adults, too, but we have to be more conservative in our approval of it. We have to impress the other adults about how practical we are. Maybe slap the bricks a little and go "this must cost a fortune to heat!" I'm here to tell you that you can enjoy a castle for what it is: a bunch of cool bricks that were once the site of brutal and cruel mass deaths.

Sure, there's lots of castles that were never sieged or even singed. These are fake ones, usually somewhere in North America, where the castle proved to not be a sufficient defence against roving gangs of feral cowboys.

Here, the situation is often that a rich person looked in a magazine, saw a cool picture of a European fortification, and then asked a bunch of masons to "build me one like that." Respectable, of a sort, but not a real castle. Doesn't matter: you can still enjoy them. The rich person sure did, unless they mixed it up with several dozen of their other castles and just never bothered getting around to enjoying the fruits of their workers' labour.

There are a couple problems to practical enjoyment of North American castles. For starters, many of them are still privately owned. The residents no doubt strut around their homes, pretending to be princes and earls and duchesses. Is it a weird sex thing? Nobody knows for sure, but NASA research is strongly pointing towards "yes." Those ones are probably off the table for most people reading this. That said, if you do purchase your own castle, let me know so I can come by and take a picture of my Dodge Viscount in front of it. Get it? Viscount?

Even with those ones removed from general circulation, you can probably enjoy one of many public castles. These are often placed in public parks that were spontaneously created when a rich person died and dropped their loot, like in the popular computer game Murder Rich People And Take Their Shit. For only a few bucks (for preservation purposes: remember, it costs a fortune to heat these things, not to mention the rising cost of castle wax) you too can enjoy the fortress lifestyle. And if you bring your own king and queen outfits and turn it into a weird sex thing? I won't call the cops if you don't tattle on my use of the horse stables as temporary overflow parking.

[bitethedustfools]

TWST Story Idea (10)

Twisted Wonderland is a very unique world. Their world has magic, and they have different species living together, ranging from mages, beastmen, fae, merfolk, and so on.

Yuu's world had something like those, but obviously, that was just in a story, a fiction, a drawing on walls and pots. Something that almost all people heard of but did not believe in their existence. Which is understandable because Yuu's world is just humans and animals, and that's it. There are no werewolves, no vampires or mermaids, not even a dragon, and so on.

Yuu had been the type of person who always has been interested in these kinds of things: mythology, folklore, and cryptozoology, and maybe a little bit of history. That's what Yuu loves in the whole world.

They know many things and the history of how it came to be. You can ask Yuu if they know about skinwalker, and they'll put up a presentation that they prepared for years, which somehow leads to other cryptids. The Beast of Gévaudan? Yuu's got a conspiracy board with a bunch of pictures of animals to prove this beast is actually so and so and where it ran off to. They are also very knowledgeable about Greek mythology, followed by Norse, Aztec, and so on.

So imagine Yuu got transported to Twisted Wonderland and got the shock of their life when they saw a beastman. Yuu expected to see a furry animal standing on two feet, the face a mix with man and animal followed by animalistic growls and piercing eyes. Not… not a goddamn handsome man with a pair of ears and tails!

Sure, they had seen this type before, but that's on some people's fantasy that they have written and drawn! Yuu is absolutely stupefied when they're face to face.

Every time Yuu met a new species, Yuu didn't fail to feel disappointed in what they saw. The dragon by the name of Malleus got a human form that he likes to use, and that has the most ridiculously handsome face Yuu has ever seen. Where is the fire-breathing dragon? Where is the gold they hoard? The wings? Yuu is not satisfied with this.

Yuu met Hades next, who was hailed as one of the prominent seven figures seen as a hero or something, which just conflicted with what Yuu knows about the Hades of their world.

Yuu took a look at the multiple figures next to him like the Fairest Queen, the Queen of Hearts, Maleficent, and Ursula, and was astounded to see that they also were hailed as heroes. Their story is so much nicer than the original story Yuu read that at least, 2 out of 4 stated above died horribly if Yuu is not mistaken.

The dwarves are just toddlers that can speak perfectly, the eels from the Little Mermaid are humanified, what was supposed to be a werewolf is not a werewolf at all. The ghosts are all the same as though they are copy and pasted many times, some had different clothes. Yuu saw Grim, and they're not sure what he is, but he's cute, so that's alright.

Halloween comes, and Yuu is ready to be the most terrifying monster of them all, and they did, but that's because the rest dressed prettily and not terrifyingly like Yuu expected!

Where's the horror? Where are the screams of terror and the nightmare fuel appearance?? Yuu wanted to see someone getting traumatized, and all they got is sparkles and annoyance. Those magicam monsters must be stupid and blind to be scared of such pretty faces.

The only highlight of the Halloween was the Spectral realm like yes! The gloomy atmosphere is here! The graves! The very gothic architecture is everywhere! It was what Yuu imagined where the wandering and unrest souls will go.

It got crashed by a disco ball, though.

In short, Yuu didn't like it.

This world is sh*tty and against everything Yuu believed in. It's like meeting an idol you like so much and find that they are not the same as your expectation or something.

Dissatisfied, Yuu complained to themself, unaware that NRC heard it. "This is not what I imagined them to be. What a let down…"

Seeing that NRC are full of prideful kids, naturally, they get offended being told by a magicless human that Twisted Wonderland filled with wonder doesn't excite Yuu in any slightest.

Now this. This made Yuu perked up, but at the same time, Yuu is also offended that the others think their world is nothing special.

Yuu made up their mind to take it as a challenge. Yuu won't lose to these rip-offs of their world. They're gonna prove their world is superior, and that's Yuu's pride as a human being from that world.

Twisted Wonderland might have 7-8 prominent figures, but Yuu's world has more, although they may not exist today. Yuu is gonna show them how there's charm in being a mystery and history.

Yuu proceeded to drop snippets of a bunch of mythology, folklore, and cryptozoology randomly in the different places.

Yuu would go camping with the friends and said in his world there used to be a Wendigo roaming around in the woods. They would describe vividly about its appearance and how it eats flesh and the origin of how it came to be, taking sadistic delight when said friends looked at each other shakingly.

Yuu would mention out of nowhere about how beautiful people would have been sacrificed to the gods to a rather vain person and said it's lucky they are not in Yuu's world.

They even talked about Salem witch trials down to the details when a group of their friends has a fight or something. Magic doesn't involve in that, of course, but they looked terrified that even humans would accuse and execute their own kin. A very dark history indeed.

The mer eel would have threatened Yuu about squeezing and biting and so on, and Yu would drop a myth in their world about eating mermaid would bring immortality and maybe that's why they don't exist anymore.

They even mentioned casually that the faes would replace human kids with theirs and also kidnapped humans as pets. They can also be invisible to the eyes so no one would know or even find them.

The others are terrified to hear what story sprouted out of Yuu.

[vigilskeep]

um calenhad aeducan lore. known fondly as prince cal by the people of orzammar and also me. he’s called that after the founder of the theirin line, because after ferelden successfully rebelled against orlesian rule, orzammar was like oh fuck we’ve got to repair that relationship as if we didn’t just sit by the whole time that was happening. so there were a bunch of these kind of uh diplomatic publicity stunts happening around the time he was born. and nothing about his life has ever not been someone else’s angle

his mother was one of endrin’s lesser concubines from a lower status house, and every jealous eye turned in her direction when she bore the king a son. despite that, endrin’s queen took her and the baby under her wing. it wasn’t entirely altruistic. the queen had no sons of her own, so cal could serve instead as her “contender” for heir against trian, the son of her long-time rival, a favoured concubine called lady rosdrada. the queen also happened to be a notable warrior, a powerful reaver, who died years later on a deep roads expedition under mildly suspicious circumstances, with many blaming lady rosdrada. (she was never publicly accused but neither did the king ever marry her and allow her to rise to the queen’s vacant place, a fact bitterly resented by her faction.)

cal’s mother, who returned the queen’s protection and favour with fierce loyalty, was first among rosdrada’s accusers. furious that punishment never came, she changed almost overnight from a shy, humble woman to a politician who could in her own right engage in the life or death battle for succession, raising her son to be the fulfilment of the late queen’s ambitions. he was trained since childhood in both the ways of princely charm and the ways of a reaver warrior, all to be the vengeance of a woman whose face he sometimes struggles to remember. perhaps there was a time, as boys, when he tried to be a brother to trian despite it all, but with his mother’s teachings always in his ears and trian less bearable each year, he’s long since accepted that deadly conflict between them is inevitable. he’s never eager to be the ruthless aeducan prince, but he’s always done his duty, however ugly. he never turns down the foul-tasting reaver concoctions, or quakes when he’s sent to the deep roads. he always defends his house’s honour and makes the point in blood. anything less is death; his mother tells him so

he doesn’t truly want the throne. he just wants more than anything to have the weight of expectations off his shoulders, and to no longer dread that his mother, his second, and all who support them will pay the deadly price of his failure. he’ll jump blindly at the chance to get this fight over with—and that’s all the opportunity bhelen ever needed

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!

anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)

i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol

so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)

what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)

mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol

the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)

when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft

not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....

ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr

nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3

the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol

'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft

also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol

the less said about swastknickers the better

(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)

i just love these kinds of jokes pfft

also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)

also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft

all three of these made me cry with laughter lol

ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol

both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)

the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...

ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??

&&&& that's it lol

there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol

there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol

[yandere-fics]

♡ How They React To Their Darling Sister Running Away ♡

(Bibi is excluded because I already have a fic about this for her on her own, I a still excluding Veronia cause I still haven't found a direction for her that I'd like to go in terms of her having a sister.)

♡ Theanna obviously can't really go the blackmail route for this one, you are the beloved princess of this nation, rather she'll hurt anyone who was close to you prior under the pretense of them perhaps having something to do with you running away and of course you are the favorite princess at court so no one would want you escaping, especially not when you help keep their crown princess in check, honestly she'd be busy making their lives miserable if not for you so they'll just let her wipe out a bunch of people if it means that she'll stay calm. ♡

♡ If this is your first attempt then she might be a bit gentler with you though obviously holding you closer than before and reminding you that people died because of you. She finds it very insulting that you would try to leave, what were you even hoping to achieve? Being a poor countryside peasant? She could never allow that, you're her future queen and so you must remain in the palace where you belong, it would be a disgrace for you to live a poor rural life. If this is a repeated thing then after the first time she would probably keep any further attempts hidden and tell everyone her poor queen is sick, you'll be locked in her room until you can behave yourself though of course she'll still treat you how her queen should be treated, plenty of luxuries to indulge in while alone in the room with her. ♡

♡ Elisha is delusional so of course any time you attempt to escape from her whether you are her sister or not will be brushed off as someone was tricking you and whispering horrible things in your ears to make you doubt your relationship with her, it's not your fault that you were swayed, they were just horrible people and her sister is so gullible and naive. Her next move really depends on where you did it. Did she leave you behind in the temple while she did a difficult mission and then you left then you must stay by her side at all times. Did you run while on an adventure with her? Then she might leave you at the temple for your own protection at least until she can find a better solution for always keeping you near her. ♡

♡ If this is your first time then she'll assume someone was just getting into your head and that she just needs to keep a better eye on her poor naive sister, if it's a repeated pattern though… she honestly won't know what to do, you love her, there's no way you don't even if you haven't been the most affectionate towards her lately but she might start to wonder if there's something that she has failed to provide you that has made you want to leave and she'll do whatever it takes to figure out what it is she's lacking. ♡

♡ Pauline isn't stupid enough to not install several safety measures on her darling sister. Basically as soon as she decides she loves you and wants you to be hers forever, it's like child safety locks go on. Of course the typical ones like if anyone gets within 100 meters of her darling with malicious intent they'll be stricken with the curse that will make them feel deathly ill, if anyone tries to touch her darling like a hug from a friend they'll be cursed with their joints feeling stiff so they are unable to continue their actions, but also tings like, if her darling gets too far from her than you'll trip. The boundary on that on is a bit higher at first because she doesn't assume her darling would try to leave, it'll get a much shorter radius though the more you try to escape. ♡

♡ If this is your first attempt then she'll likely assume the curse going off must have just been a fluke and you were just too stupid for your own good and wandering unless you admit that you were trying to run away or she finds proof that it was an escape attempt. She will decrease the radius a bit though after that first attempt even if he still thinks it was a fluke because she'll feel she was too lax with the radius. If this is a repeated behavior then she'll start to get a bit mean with you and isolate you in the bedroom with her until you begin to love her and be good again. Of course there's nothing your parents can do about this because they know they'd get killed if they interfered with anything to do with her darling even if her darling is also their daughter. ♡

♡ Abigail sees it almost as a sick way to prove her devotion towards you. Of course you're her precious lady so if you're running away either you would like to be chased by your knight or something startled you away. Either way it's her job to protect you, even from your own silly fears. Once she gets you back she'll be extra sweet and do more things to prove her devotion to you as your loyal knight. She really doesn't assume you were actually trying to flee because as her sister you've known her long enough to know she would always chase you. Since you are her sister she would never send her knights to fetch you, she'd fetch you herself. ♡

♡ Abigail wouldn't send you to the families manor for training the first few times since you're her sister so she feels she can correct this behavior on her own without their help plus she would miss her sister quite a bit if she had to send you back home so you could learn not to run away, not to mention their methods are quite harsh so she would prefer if she could fix it herself, if it keeps happening though then she will have to send you away from the capital though she'll follow closely behind you after resigning because she wouldn't want to stay in the capital much longer after you're no longer there. Plus she's sure her taking the duke title with you as duchess will fix this behavior. ♡

♡ Raphael while thinking of herself as a bad person also obviously can not let her precious sister wander outside all alone without her to aid you, that just wouldn't be right. She's definitely already made you into a vampire and s she has to go find you because you could starve without her help hunting. It doesn't matter if you're a competent hunter or not, she's always going to worry that something might go wrong and a foolish human might stab you or even worse. Don't worry though, she is an excellent tracker and has plenty of connections to find leads as to where you are. ♡

♡ For her it doesn't matter the amount of escape attempts but rather how long you are away from her on these attempts. If she finds you after only a day then it's going to be more tolerated because she might see it as a silly rebellion but you always get found in the end. If it takes longer than that then she might start to consider that you actually really want to be apart from her side and she'll start locking you inside. If for some ungodly reason you manage to be apart from a year which is the longest you could ever hope to evade her unless there's unforeseen circumstances then you'll be trapped in the manor forever and she might even start to go a bit crazy from being deprived of her goddess for so long. ♡

♡ Ainsley is more gentle with her sister trying to escape than she would be with a normal darling trying to escape, mostly because in the sister scenario she is far more delusional and so you don't have to worry about her breaking from her delusions and killing you both because if she can't have her soulmate then no one can. If you're her sister then no matter what you do she is automatically going to assume you're lying about not loving her. The capital is influencing you negatively, etc. ♡

♡ After the first time if you seem remorseful then you'll get away with just a light dosing, she justifies this as you having run a long time so you need to just relax a little bit. Just let her dose you so you can recover from this attempt and then everything can go back to normal. For each attempt the dosing might grow more severe until eventually you will be dosed every second of every day because you obviously can't be trusted on your own just to be good. You love her when dosed though which clearly proves you do actually love her even if you repress that sometimes. ♡

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 14 thoughts

we left off on some pretty high stakes last episode: bridges burning, eyeballs oozing, etc. now we must jump back in!

this episode is called “the red and the black”, huh… (les mis starts playing in the distance)

post episode thoughts: damn. this episode was full of twists and turns. the CSM lore goes CRAZY. krycek is your problematic bisexual representation. i do not believe that genes determine someone's capacity for evil, but i am going to have to ask this spender fellow to please back tf away from our agents. marita, you must defeat the ratboy in combat. please increase your studies of the blade. and perhaps most importantly, i love when mulder is written first and foremost as scully's loverboy and partner. yeah.

we begin with a recap of last episode, and ewww, those poor boy's eyes are soooo drippy and gross.

WHO IS THIS WRITING TO THEIR SON??? and who is this little boy in the winter snow, forced to be the mailman?

this mystery man is typing up a letter mentioning war gods, while this young child is out in the woods. someone go fetch this small child. he is wandering about. knocking on someone’s door and receiving a letter and dollar bill 

the mystery man is sending this red enveloped letter to the FBI???

wait hold on… it's a man living deep in the woods… writing a letter to his son in the FBI… is this CSM playing on the bastard mulder allegations…? because the typewriter… it’s CSM coded…

a bold swing and likely an equally bold miss, but we shall see

(i was so close and yet so far from the truth)

YOOO THE INTRO WAS SHORT *AND* WE GOT DIFFERENT WORDS THIS TIME!!! it says “resist or serve”! it has been a while since those have gotten changed up. hmm. "resist or serve" i do not care for that!!

back to the bridge slash dam area where we last saw many people gathering, including cassandra and scully. the burning has taken place!!! it was in pennsylvania?! that’s a bit of a drive from DC!!!

the medical personnel are arriving, and so is mulder!!! he’s running on his absurdly long legs while his coat billows behind him!!! does he know scully was here????

look at these bodies, they’re burned beyond any recognition!! it's horrible.

is that scully he finds??? no, and thank god for that.

skinner is here!!! mulder is yelling at him, asking if she was here, and he says she is!! and she is alive!!!

she was huddled in the woods… with a bunch of other survivors… and she had burns, but strangely all her fluids and electrolytes were gone!! the nurse tells these two men to gtfo because she is in vasogenic shock, which is not a term i know the meaning of 

look at mulder touching her hair while she is unresponsive...

(god, getting in those medical devices for a scene must be the worst)

they’re taking her away and he’s trying to follow!!! but they’re taking her in the helicopter. i thought for a second he would try and hop on and cause a scene, but he actually didn't do this.

(gruff skinner voice) “what happened here, mulder?” “the answer just got loaded onto that chopper!”

omg… are krycek’s people going to be after her, too?!? like they were after that poor boy dmitri??

agent spender is here, too. he wants to know if his mother has been found. :(

jump to a wildly different scene. is the well-groomed man a surgeon?? we see that marita is intubated!!! she was found on the roadside after her cryptic call with mulder, and it doesn’t look good for her survival. nooo, she has to live so she can backstab krycek. please hear me, queen.

OHHH he opens her eyeball and sees it covered in that nasty black oil stuff… and the syndicate is watching from above?!?! what will they do!! can they run some trials??

MULDER BRUSHING SCULLY’S HAIR TO WAKE HER UP IN THE HOSPITAL BED AND THEN SMILING GENTLY AT HER…. OH MY GOD I NEED TO LAY DOWN

if you could HEAR the noise that just came out of my throat….

LOOK AT HIM LOOKING AT HER, OH MY GOOOOOD

she asks what time is it and he LAUGHS!! oh my god, she nearly died and she just wants to know the hour... scully, you are so precious

he laughs at this question and she asks “why are you laughing?” <-OH SHE’S SELF-CONSCIOUS. STOP. I’LL CRY!!!

“i’m not laughing at you. i’m just very happy to be standing here talking to you, that’s all” <- OH MY GOD HE LOVES HER SO BAAAAAAAD he was so gentle in that explanation

(god. rereading these notes is killing me all over again. he loves her, he loves her, he loves her, a million times over. the way he explained to her that he's not making fun of her, he's just relived she's okay... oh mulder. you sweet man. absolute pathetic wet cat of a guy. you are so dear to me)

((SEE, WRITERS? see what mulder can be?! this is the man i recognize! jot that down! he's a lover!))

she asks him what she is doing here, suddenly panicked. and he gently explains, raising her bed so she can sit up while taking a seat next to her. oh my god. the tenderness. it will kill me a thousand times.

(there is something addictive stored in hospital scenes. the relief of realizing that someone is still with you, the terrible possessiveness it provokes after you almost lost them, realizing how lucky you are to have them in your life, loving someone at their most vulnerable, and the person in the hospital bed allowing themselves to be loved and cared for......... bottle it up. let it sit in the cellar and i'll pour it out only on the most special of occasions)

she can’t remember what happened. oh my god, she’s so scared :( the report on the incident is playing in her room.

she has no memories of what went on at the dam, but at this time a nurse comes in and lays her back down, saying she needs her blood pressure to come back up, and shooing mulder out. oh, i paused to write this down and she looks like a deer in the headlights. so trapped.

he says he’ll come back, but she has something to say!!! he’s out the door with a thumb’s up, though, trying to reassure her it'll be okay as she has no idea wtf is going on 

i’ve said it once i’ll say it again: poor scully :(

agent spender is here!! they didn’t find his mother, and he wants to know what mulder was “doing with her”. she hasn’t driven in a long time, and he knows scully was meeting with her!!! he wants them to leave her alone :( but now scully is wrapped up in this, too. so his mother might be the key to getting answers. agent spender, you may not get your wish.

oh, back to the russian ship in the new york harbor. krycek is chained up!!! well-groomed man is here… is some torture about to go down??

he says that the ship is heading back to russia tomorrow, and he is (sarcastically) sure that krycek's gulag pals will be happy to see him after his whole cutting and running deal. well-groomed man is dripping water into his mouth, and it’s making me thirsty.

OHHH get him for me: “your alliance with her was as misguided as ours, but it appears she was unaware of the consequences of her deception” marita... you are so mysterious...

omg, so krycek infected the boy so that anyone who betrayed him would also get infected!!!!

damn. did not wanna see krycek taking the W here. marita, you NEED to get better NOW and get some revenge.

but dmitri is dead!!! he died in the pennsylvania incident. 

krycek says that well-groomed man has to make a deal with him… but well-groomed man is no fool!

NOOOO I GOOGLED THE WELL-GROOMED MAN TO MAKE SURE I WAS USING THE RIGHT NAME (and i WASN’T, it’s “WELL-MANICURED MAN” and i got a SPOILER💔)

this is why i should not do these things. if i call someone by the wrong name, y’all are just gonna have to let me know in the replies and cringe through my mistaken posts.

damn. 

well. it’s been 2 seasons. i might as well keep calling him the wrong name.

okay, so he put together that if krycek was willing to infect the boy, he also must have had a cure for him, developed by the russians. krycek is silent at this. 

AND THIS WOULD MEAN RESISTANCE TO THE COLONISTS IS NOW POSSIBLE ‼️‼️

OHHH well-groomed man is YELLING AT HIM!!!! “DO YOU HAVE THE VACCINE?” damn, it's very echo-y place to yell, in the bottom of a soviet ship. 

hmm… well-groomed man leaves. i hope he finds the vaccine and it is not copyrighted by anyone and the whole world can become immune to oil aliens. this is the good ending.

okay, what the hell is going on now! a plane just exploded? where did this take place?? someone is dragging a body away. and a ton of military personnel are moving in. 

OMG THE BODY DRAGGER IS THE NO FACE GUY FROM BEFORE!!! who was lighting the people on fire in the last episode!! is he an alien?? was that his spaceship??

back to more important matters at hand: scully. she’s looking through the photos of the incident at the dam that she was in attendance of, but cannot recall anything. and she is sitting up now, so that means improvement!

she cannot tell you where this place even is- but none of the other survivors have been able to give an account, either. very interesting that they felt called there but cannot recount it.

mulder found more implants in the bodies, which would explain how she and the others got there. must be her new implant that cured the cancer also inspires the feelings of restlessness that brought the others abductees to the dam. but it doesn’t explain why they wanted those people dead, or why she lived.

“all comes down to a question, scully, one that hasn’t been answered or… i don’t even think honestly addressed: who made that chip in your neck?” <- OH SHOOT... HE’S (finally) GOING THERE!!!

it was found in a military research facility… he’s convinced it was the government that did all this, to do biological experiments and warfare

“the truth i’ve been searching for? the truth is in you” <- oh my god… the truth being her… hold on, i need a moment for that one.

the truth being something that is physically within someone, and as a result, being able to hold The Truth; the truth being the forceful result of autonomy being stripped away; the truth being an act of violence; the truth being the north star that guides you; all of these things being in contradiction and embodied in dana scully. i am getting ideas for poetry out of this line. everybody say thank you mulder for making me want to pick up a pencil.

oh shoot. i sense some stuff is about to go down.

“mulder, when i met you five years ago, you told me that your sister had been abducted… by aliens” (he smiles, as if thinking his past self is foolish, or recalling that first night together, or both of these things)

“that that event had marked you so deeply that nothing else mattered. i didn’t believe you, but i followed you, on nothing more than your faith that the truth was out there, based not on facts, not on science, but on your memories that your sister had been taken from you. your memories were all that you had”

(faith being a motif in scully's life... faith not in what he thinks, but in him as a person... belief being a motif in both of their lives in opposite directions... her faith placed in him and in science, and his in her and in the unknown... man, hold on...)

“i don’t trust those memories now”, he points out.

“well, whether you trust them or not, they’ve led you here. and me. but i have no memories to either trust nor distrust, and if you ask me now to follow you again, to stand behind you in what you now believe, without knowing what happened to me out there, without those memories, i can’t. i won’t”

oh my god. ohhhh my god. is this the end? do they travel no further upon this twisted road together? and if it is the end, can we even blame her?

he gets up and looks out the window, probably to conceal the inner turmoil

he wants to give her those memories, to prove that what he believed for so long was wrong… but she asks if that is really what he wants

:( :(

this has the sort of emotional weight that makes me think i'll be unpacking it for decades. i will give it room to nestle into my soul, break my heart, and then dissect it in detail at a later time.

back to the syndicate. according to their reports, the guy with no face seems to have lost his facial features in self-mutilation done as protection (??). no facial features is protection against infection by the black oil!!! omg!!!

he’s an alien rebel!!!! omg!! that is what the boy saw last episode! so this alien rebel was the one that did the torching!! he’s fighting against the alien colonists!!!

a war has begun!!! 

OH SHIT!!! well-groomed man HAS the vaccine!! it was what was in that bottle that krycek stole last episode! do you think he’s telling the truth, or just bluffing to try and inspire resistance against the colonists?! well, we can find it out if we inject marita...

well-groomed man wants to side with the rebel, but the other dude says that the alien colonists will squash them! a terrible dilemma. reminds me of the civil war plotline in skyrim. you must take a stand against the aliens!!!!

so they inject marita….

but before we can learn if that mystery liquid krycek snatched from the gulag has any effects on marita, we cut to dr. werber’s office!!! he asks if scully is okay with this, and she quietly says she is. mulder is playing with his tie on the other end of the couch.

oh my god, so even though he didn't trust his own memories, he's going to bring her to his doctor to undergo the same process? he must really want to prove she experienced what she did.

the doctor is laying her down, and she’s watching mulder before she closes her eyes and tries to relax everything…. is it going to work??

OH!! she’s screaming!!! and mulder is freaked tf out as she does so!!!

she’s recalling the ship flying over…

and she’s groaning, tapping the couch next to mulder, wordlessly asking for him to hold her hand as she relives the awful moments (oh my GOD???)

she’s remembering the people with no faces lighting the others on fire. and there’s another ship!! and the rebels are burned up by the ship!! 

and then the second ship TAKES cassandra!! from right next to her!! they all lift their hands in supplication and she rises up out of her wheelchair!!! the aliens beam her up!!

she’s still yelling when the doctor tries to get her to come back, and it takes three tries to do so. she finally does, and she’s still panting when she turns to look at mulder and asks him if he was there the whole time. and he nods.

so that means that her body knew she needed to hold his hand despite her not being mentally present at all... the way they need each other...

holy fuck, we have never seen scully screaming in that level of distress before. and we have seen some CRAZY scully distress!! like when she lost her father, or when she confronted her sister’s killer. but this was SO out of body, the whole thing, like watching her worst nightmare.

and what is mulder thinking right now?? is he back in his alien era?? how does it feel to watch your best friend scream and scream in terror, knowing you can do nothing to stop it because the terrible things already happened??

please just cuddle for a bit, you two. take a breather.

SKINNER LISTENED TO THE TAPE OF HER BEING HYPNOTIZED!!! oh my god. imagine your boss listening to your worst memories…

despite sitting through scully having her own experience, mulder still refers to the memory of his sister’s abduction as false. so does he think this didn’t really happen to scully, either? i mean, they found her body there, and like 50 dead people! if i’m mulder i’d be thinking gee, maybe i was wrong about the memories of my youth being false!! this seems a little suspicious!! what is this man thinking...?

skinner clarifies that he needs to make a REPORT and this is nothing to go on. well. this is not unusual. 

mulder says the whole thing was staged by the government, and cassandra was taken by a military aircraft. but i ask: how would the government manage to kill 50 people and embed false memories in the others??

i mean, false memories through repeated hypnotherapy sessions for just mulder seems possible. it would take a while, but maybe they could convince him of the nature of his sister's disappearance being supernatural. but how could they do that so suddenly, and to so many people at once? i'm not buying it.

this explanation does not seem to please the pensive skinner

“over the past five years, i’ve doubted you, only to be persuaded by the power of your belief in extraterrestrial phenomena. and i’m doubting you now not because of that belief, but… because extraterrestrial phenomena is, frankly, the more plausible explanation” <- ohhh, we are allowed some insight into the enigma that is skinner’s mind…

(it is actually really interesting to see how skinner views mulder and the nature of his work and beliefs. i've wondered where he falls on the spectrum of believer to non-believer for a while; i guess i thought he was somewhere in the middle, not committed to anything beyond catching the bad guy of the day. if using secret psychic thwarting tricks helps get a killer off of the streets, by all means, he'll let mulder give it a go. but i think his skepticism on the authenticity of his claims makes sense. sure buddy, you can go buy a ghost detecting machine if it makes the public safer. just... get things done)

“then i suggest you put that in your report”, snaps mulder, who gets up to leave. BRO IS ALWAYS SO SNIPPY WITH SKINNER. HE IS ON YOUR SIDE. BE NICE TO HIM. meanwhile scully is sitting here in immense pain trying to figure out wtf is going on….

back to marita. the other syndicate guy is proclaiming that the vaccine does not work. he wants to turn the alien rebel over!!

but well-groomed man says they have to hold onto him- if they turn him in, they lose all chance of resistance!! i’m lowkey with him here. like, through the power of friendship everything is possible. consider that.

NOOO, this other guy says he already turned the alien rebel back over, and well-groomed man is left in shock! how wild our narrative is that i had come to root for him for a brief moment, and now feel sad that his ideas have been shot down!!

why is agent spender down in the basement office... did he let himself into the office of our agents? i do not like this one bit. he is not visually intimidating, but his aura is unsettling.

what is this dude doing…? he says he’s here about his mother. but he’s asking scully weird questions…

he wants to know what scully and his mother talked about. then he starts playing a video of baby him!!! and it seems he is doing regression hypnosis, and he’s recalling cassandra going up into the sky. but he says none of it happened!!! he said his mom told him to say those things!!!

he claims she told the story over and over again to make up for the fact that his dad left them and it drove his mother insane. which. doesn't really explain everything, but i guess it's a start.

he thinks dr. werber indulged in his mother’s fantasies and that his methods are dangerous and unsound, and she ought to question anything she experienced in his office

“well i appreciate your opinion, agent spender,  but i don’t have a mother feeding me abduction stories” <- GET HIM ‼️

“you’ve got agent mulder, don’t you?” <- OHHH, DON’T GO THERE YOU BRAT. and besides, he doesn’t even BELIEVE IN THAT STUFF ANYMORE. get lost.

(editing these notes and this pissed me tf off again. because how dare he imply that mulder is manipulating her psychologically instead of being her partner and seeing her as an equal? god forbid the two of them respect each other. no, clearly it MUST be that the man is taking advantage of the woman, tricking her into thinking alien thoughts in the same way spender's mother did to him. right?!? (heavy on the /s, btw) don't piss me off, buddy. implying their relationship is not built on mutual respect is going to piss me off EVERY time, no matter who is comes from!!!)

he tells her not to let herself be used, and there are tears in her eyes :( well right now, mr. spender, you seem like the one doing the using

when mulder gets home, he finds a note on the floor: “things are looking up” OH SHIT, SOMEONE IS ATTACKING HIM

“you must be losing it, mulder. i can beat you with one hand” GTFO KRYCEK I’M SERIOUS!!! I’LL CALL PEST CONTROL

“isn’t that how you like to beat yourself?” <- LMAOOOOO mulder may be on the ground with a gun in his face, but that man ALWAYS has a one liner 

“hear this, agent mulder, because what i’m telling you is deadly serious: there is a war raging, and unless you pull out of the sand, you and i and about five billion other people are going to go the way of the dinosaur” <- oh shit… he has to pick a side… between the colonists and the resistance!!

is the whole fate of the world really in his hands? can he not share that responsibility with his friends?

mulder is laughing at his claims of alien colonization. 

“one rule: resist or serve” <- KRYCEK SAID THE WORDS ON THE SCREEN

he calls krycek a murder and a liar and a coward, and asks how is he supposed to trust him!!! points were made!!

the mass incinerations were to disrupt the colonization… and one man is being held captive. if he dies, so does the resistance. hmm. how do you know all this, krycek? source: trust me bro

DID HE JUST KISS MULDER???

krycek is your problematic bisexual representation… wow. who would have guessed?

(been 3 days now since i watched this episode and i am STILL shocked. yeah yeah i KNOW he's russian, and european people smooch sometimes when they say hello, but that is NOT what happened here. at all. he was pinning mulder to the ground, filled with fury, and then lust overtook, as it so often does)

he gives his gun to mulder…. and says good luck in russian, leaving a very angry and sad agent on the floor. damn. i also need a moment to process that. 

let us take some time together to ponder.

okay.

HEY! i know this guy from the air force base! he’s the alien bounty hunter!! and he’s breaking in!!!

mulder is sitting on his couch in despair when in comes scully.

“what are you doing sitting here in the dark?” “thinking” “about what?” “oh the usual- destiny, fate, how to throw a curveball… the inextricable relationships in our lives that are neither accidental nor somehow entirely in our control, either” <- poetic!!

the intimacy of knocking on your bestie's door and he is just sitting there pondering with all of the lights off... wow.

she comes to tell him she’s reconsidered her experiences with dr. werber!! nooo, do not let spender get to you!! and mulder has also done some reconsidering of his own… 

has his alien era returned??

krycek’s note left the name of an air base on the back!! they must go to find answers!!

no mention of the kiss to scully, which is fine i guess. but i would have been curious to see her reaction. she's pretty unflappable, although maybe she'd say he's unfolding like a flower again. and he’s out the door. 

they’re being let into the base at night. poor scully looks very sleepy. 

OHHH THE GUY DOESN’T WANT TO LET THEM IN…. and he says his name wrong (lmao), so mulder says there is a leak and that someone inside requires immediate medical aid.

HE CALLS THE GUY “SON”? “why don’t you go check on that, son. i’d hate for somebody to die because you were uninformed” <- woah. that was very weird. him calling someone that feels off and strange.

mulder wants to gun it to get into the facility while the gate guy is investigating his claims, but scully is surprised to know that she recognizes the driver of the truck across from them!!!

while the guard is being told he needs to place our agents under military arrest, mulder has hatched onto the back of the other truck!! scully is just sitting there like wtf, and is now being arrested. he loves to jump on a moving vehicle. 

so he’s inside this tented area on the back of the truck and finds a locked box with the faceless alien rebel inside!!!! but the truck is stopping; have they been caught??

OH!! the guy driving IS THE SHAPESHIFTER!!! and he’s coming to go get the faceless rebel. what is mulder to do???

alien bounty hunter is coming to get the rebel; he pops out the needle…. but something is afoot! everything is bathed in light and shaking!!! 

the faceless man is being lifted up… but mulder screams “noooooooo” and fires his gun??? THAT WAS VERY BLURRY AND CONFUSING!! what just happened!!!!

are we back to marita now?? yes, we are!!! she seems to be free of oil in her eyes!!!

meanwhile, mulder is being arrested, but the rebel alien isn’t there!!! WHERE DID HE GOOOO?!

the agents are going on a date to jail. he’s covered in sweat and he doesn’t know what happened while he was out there….. she grabs his hand…. so romantic

spender is arriving into skinner’s office. what is going on here? he shared there is no news about his mother. oh, mulder has opened a xx file on the case…

skinner clarifies that this has no effect on spender's position in the FBI. and mentions that he has a patron who thinks highly of him??? WHO??? no one knows??? someone with a high level of influence??? oh, that is concerning. 

IS IT HIS DAD???

when he walks out her gets a letter from quebec… and it’s in a red envelope!! the same as that kid was holding at the very start of the episode!!!!

up in quebec, that kid is delivering another letter to the mysterious cabin…. and the letter was returned.

IT’S CSM??????? 

I KNEW HE WASN’T DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CSM has a son and a family he left…. omfg…. and he’s hiding out in CANADA???? 

THIS ANSWERED NO QUESTIONS. AND EVEN RAISED NEW ONES.

okay, after seeing the whole episode, here are my thoughts:

still losing it at krycek kissing mulder’s cheek. i just KNOW the slash girlies were losing their MINDS. as they had every right to do! i felt your joy across time and space.

so, the vaccine against the alien oil works! if we can simply inject every single person in the world, we should be able to put up a resistance fight!! and also we will need to get a lot of those green needles that kill the shapeshifting aliens. which probably also come from outer space. so we'll need a mass scale smuggling. no biggie. /s

what happened to the resistance fighter??? did he get out?? was he taken away by the evil colonist aliens?? 

and who bailed these two out!!!

is mulder back in his believer era?? he has to be!!! 

marita is alive… you have to stop the ratboy, queen. you need to lock in. idgaf if he’s the one who knows about the aliens. wait until the alien stuff is sorted out and then stab him. for me. train hard to complete the task you have been assigned.

CSM HAD A FAMILY!!! HOLY HELL, LET’S CIRCLE BACK TO THAT SHALL WE?? and he left them!!! but he kept writing letters!! that is CRAZY!!!

rip my boy dmitri :(

i watched this episode 3 days ago and there is still SO much to process. it might take a long time. typical jam-packed sort of episode. is this what we refer to as the "myth arc"? because it establishes the mythology and main plot? am i using this term correctly? please do share. and also please tell me if the following things gagged you:

CSM alive reveal, CSM family reveal, alien rebel reveal, marita knowing krycek reveal, krycek smooching mulder reveal, scully screaming under hypnosis, mulder gently brushing her hair out of her face, etc etc. thank you very much.

[agentrouka-blog]

Do you think Jaime killing the mad king is foreshadowing Jon killing a mad queen Dany?

Once upon a time, I would have said that it well could be, but the show really had to contrive so many improbable character distortions to place Jon and Dany in an even remotely similar scenario that I just can't see it happening in the books that way.

Jon killing Dany would not be shocking or especially tragic given all the characterization we have been presented so far. What would it add to either of them?

And it's not like sharp and pointy betrayal is an especially unique way to die as a king. Aerys, Renly and Robb were all unexpectedly killed by a traitorous sword. Balon and Robert had treachery involved. (Robert really stands out here as doing himself in, essentially. While a teenaged Lannister held a wine jug instead of a blade.)

Jaime gives us a precedent for the kind of vulnerability that a mad despot actually has. Dozens of armed adults let Aerys commit atrocity after atrocity, and one boy impulsively lifted the veil of delusion and blind obedience and showed Aerys for what he was: a fragile old mad man that should not have had the power to kill anyone but for the complicity of everyone else.

(And he is villified for it. He is also not a good person who commits his own evil deeds. But he is the only one who actually acted against a tyrant at that moment.)

The knowledge of this vulnerability is established in the books now and it is something Dany is well aware of. If anything, she would specifically try to guard against her father's fate. She has been the target of assassination several times already. She and the reader will certainly tensely wonder who might try it when. There will likely be many qualified candidates by the time it this becomes relevant.

I think the more interesting question at the time, though, will also center around who has the opportunity and doesn't. To kill her, or just to stop her, and why. That damning complicity of those around her either blinded by hypocritical rules or their own sense of advantage.

When the catastrophe happens, will some single person get the (dis)honor of dispatching her when it's too late? Or will Dany be the source of her own demise and a bunch of people will be left standing and making excuses and pointing fingers at everyone but themselves?