#like. i think he MUST have gone back for her because the implication does feel very much like 'okay well if you don't go home then you will

[thesorcerersshadow]

never over the fact that when merlin couldn’t convince gwen to come back home to camelot, he sent her to ealdor - to his childhood home, to safety, to his mother - instead.

[limnsaber]

Mandalorian Slash Fic Rec List - DinLuke Volume II: Short and Sweet & Short and Fun

Welcome to Volume II of Mando slash: Dinluke fic recs! Here is Volume I. For reference, 🔐 means a restricted work and 💜 means an personal favorite. Please show your love and apprecation to our authors!! -Yours, Limn <3

Short and Sweet

staring down the barrel of the hot sun by magneticwave (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Mandalorian Politics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, 25k)

“Gone to a Child of the Watch, the Darksaber has,” Grand Master Yoda announces in his creaky little voice. “Peace, there is not, and yet peace, there must be.”

sit down, breathe, and just listen by @andfollowthesun (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Anakin Skywalker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, Gen, 13k)

“Of course we’re married.” Anakin is blinking at the camera guilelessly. “We’ve been married since before the end of the Clone Wars. What are you on about?”

thaw by @andthepeople (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Mandalorian Politics, Mand'alor Din Djarin, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Teen, 6k)

That’s what hope does to you, Luke remembers now. It lingers at the back of your mind, whispering maybe, maybe, so that knowing a plan is stupid isn’t enough to keep you from trying it.

💜 Melt by @smilebackwards (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Mandalorian Politics, Mand'alor Din Djarin, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Rescue Missions, POV Alternating, Teen, 6k)

“You haven’t given him your clan signet,” the Armorer says bluntly when Din visits her. Of course the latest episode in his faltering courtship has reached her ears. “Anyone is free to make an offer until a signet is given and accepted.” “I know,” Din says.

Cannonball by @thrvrnd (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Mature, 18k)

Grogu continues to call Luke for help once he's back with the Mandalorian. Luke always answers.

🔐 turn the page together (when you're ready) by @dee-lirious (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Canon Compliant, POV Luke Skywalker, Gen, 18k)

The Mandalorian—technically Mand’alor, although the one time Luke had called him that to his face he’d grunted in displeasure and made a gesture as if physically swatting the title aside—he visits the temple, sometimes.

give in, eyes closed by strawberry_champagne (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Established Relationship, Character Study, Gray-Asexuality, Teen, 2k)

When Din decided that this was something that he could have, even the most innocent touch was like torrential rain on a sun-scorched planet. He feels like he might drown in it when they’re pressed together like this, counts the points of contact, mouth. chest. knees. hands. wrists. This isn’t something he wants from just anyone. Luke isn’t just anyone, not by a parsec. Luke Skywalker and Din Djarin share a quiet moment while chasing rumors of Force-sensitives across the galaxy.

Oath by rinwins (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Found Family, Marriage Proposal, Keldabe Kiss, Gen, 3k)

“I want to ask you something,” Din says, after they’ve settled Grogu down for the night. That’s his serious voice. Probably not many people can tell the difference, actually, but Luke can. “Okay,” he says, “go ahead.” ... “Would you consider,” says Din, “joining my clan?” - Which contains two proposals, mild liberties with both Mandalorian and Jedi customs, sociopolitical and religious implications But In Space, Force visions, too much studying, a little sparring, a bit of snark, and a Lot of fluff.

Right Where We Need to Be by pixie_rings (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Mature, 4k)

Din Djarin is welcomed to Ossus, despite his first thoughts. And if he finds himself thinking a bit too much about Luke, well... it's just because he's his friend. Right?

🔐 Boundaries by kushana (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Asexual Relationship, Boundaries, Fluff and Humor, Teen, 2k)

Din suddenly feels cold under his armour and his throat constricts. He’s never touched Luke like that, carefree, and there are such things as boundaries. 'Din. It’s okay.' Or: Din touches Luke's nose, then freaks out. Luke sets things straight.

The Three by skywalkers (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Force Visions (Star Wars, Nightmares, Teen, 3k)

“I’ve followed my path, I’ve tried to do what I thought was right, but what if it’s only leading to the same place?” Luke seethes a breath through a wave of nausea when he recalls the dream. “Something is coming, and I…I can’t risk the Temple, our people, you, Grogu. Something is coming and I don’t know what.” “Something is coming, Din. And I’m...” He hesitates. “I’m afraid.” - A nightmare wakes both Luke and Din in the middle of the night.

🔐 I'll take you at your word by @darkisrising (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Fluff, Accidental Marriage, Gen, 1k)

But by far the most attractive thing about Luke isn’t his face, which is beautiful, or his physique, which is impressive, or his voice, which could drive a celibate to distraction. No it’s how eager Luke is not just to teach, but also to learn.

let me walk to the top of the big night sky by @4hoots (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Mand'alor Din Djarin, Planet Mandalore, Gen, 3k)

“Then what are you asking?” The hand on Luke’s arm flexed, and Din stepped even closer, putting them nearly toe-to-toe. “I’m asking you... to share your time with me. Whatever time you’ll give.”

💜 as it was by @ineffablestardust (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Luke and his lost hand, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Teen, 1k)

the ghosts that we learn to deal with, the nature of being human, forgiving oneself and looking to the future and dinluke softies

Short and Fun

listen, there's a hell of a universe next door by storm_petrel (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Ensemble Cast, Rescue Missions, BAMF Luke Skywalker, BAMF Din Djarin, Action/Adventure, Mature, 13k)

As it turns out, no one ever taught Luke how to tie a little green baby to his back one-handed, but Luke thinks he's pretty gods-damned good at problem-solving under pressure, thank you, and the baby is at least semi-cooperative. When he's sure the kid is strapped in as tight as he can get, Luke pauses, and reaches back. His fingers graze the wide point of the baby's fuzzy ear. "Well, kid," says Luke, and his voice is a little rough, but not bad, all things considered. "Carrying you on my back while getting the absolute banthashit kicked out of me, at least this feels familiar." The baby coos in his ear, and then kicks him hard in the kidney. Yoda used to do the exact same thing. Somehow, it's a lot more endearing now. Or: Luke Skywalker solves a number of life-or-death problems, makes some new friends, falls abruptly in love, and gets shot into space, all in the same day.

say it as you will by @chocmarss (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Ensemble Cast, Ahsoka Tano, Grogu, Captain Rex, Force Ghosts, Teen, 4k)

“It’s like I’m watching a carbon copy of Skywalker Sr. sneaking around with the Senator and thinking none of us could see how he’s shit at hiding it.” From her other side, the blue outline of said Skywalker Sr. frowns in some degree of confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

💜 three rules (back straight, head forward) by queen_rowenas (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, New Republic Politics, Secret Relationship, POV Outsider, Teen, 8k)

Leia is helpless to watch as Senator Almen continues on as though nothing is wrong. “Mand’alor, may I introduce you to Senator Organa’s brother, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.” She can feel all of her hard work crumbling, whatever trust she had formed with the Mandalorians shattering before her as the Mand’alor slowly stands to his feet. Great, she thinks numbly, Another galactic war on my hands. (Leia Organa has never been one to back down from a challenge. Although advising the new Mand’alor in his introduction to the Senate and also trying to keep her Jedi brother from causing an intergalactic incident could prove to be a bigger challenge than expected.)

perhaps I could learn to love by @ace-dindjarin (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Bo-Katan Kryze, Korkie Kryze, Oblivious Din Djarin, Asexual Din Djarin, Korkie Kryze is a Kenobi, Humor, Misunderstandings, Teen, 9k)

Alt. Title: In Which Din Djarin Assumes Shit Korkie snaps his fingers in front of the Jedi’s wide eyes. “Hello?” “I, uh, sorry. I am the delegate, yes,” the Jedi stammers. “The New Republic delegate. Luke Skywalker.” Solo elbows him in the side. “Great.” Korkie brightens, pulling out a datapad from his belt. “Should we begin?” The Jedi blinks, eyes wide in shock. “Hmm?” “Okay, I’ll take over.” Solo pulls out his own datapad. The two begin to share their information. It’s fifteen minutes into the meeting when Din finally realizes the Jedi’s interested in Korkie Kryze. Romantically. - Din Djarin, the new Mand’alor, interacts with the New Republic delegate sent to consider the Mandalorians for a seat in the Senate. When he realizes the Jedi’s into the charming politician, Korkie Kryze, he’s okay with it. He’s very okay with it. Totally fine. Featuring insecurity, lots of irrational fear, and shenanigans.

The Opposite of All My Mistakes by @vagrantblvrd (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Ensemble Cast, Force Ghosts, Gen, 3k)

Never let it be said that Luke has chosen to eschew the most sacred of Jedi traditions.

Hello Hurricane by @vagrantblvrd (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Mara Jade, Ensemble Cast, Force Ghosts, Gen, 4k)

Luke has a problem. His problem wears armor. Shiny, shiny armor. Also, there’s a cape.

💜 Entanglements by @vagrantblvrd (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Teen, 4.5k)

Jedi don’t panic.

Symphonies by @vagrantblvrd (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Gen, 4k)

“I don’t understand,” Din says, focused on prying a shiny rock out of Grogu’s mouth. “If your sister is a princess, wouldn’t that make you a prince as well?” His logic is sound, Luke gives him that, but as Luke continues to learn the more he and Leia cautiously look into their lineage, it’s not so clear-cut.

💜 unconditional by @meowalker (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Missing Scene, Marriage Proposal, Gen, 8k)

“I’m thinking,” Skywalker greets, face blinking into existence over the N1’s holoprojector. “You get him during the week, then I get the weekends.”

💜 Read All About It! by pixie_rings (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Ensemble Cast, Humor, POV Outsider, Gen, 2.5k)

Kerani Leyn, shiny new reporter for the Hanna City Herald, is about to land the scoop of a lifetime.

(Let's Kiss) While All the Stars Are Falling Down by @stupidfatpenguin (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, One Shot, battle husbands, Not Rated, 900w)

Prompt: have you considered: battle husbands When Din slots in behind Luke on the battlefield, something clicks into place.

take my last breath, too by @stupidfatpenguin (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, One Shot, Sparring, Accidental Proposal, Pining, Gen, 1k)

“You think I’ll last long against your Jedi magic?” (In which Din is distracted and underestimates his opponent.)

Live dangerous by @iamscoby (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, One Shot, Old DinLuke, Planet Ahch-To, Gen, 500w)

It rains a lot on Ahch-To.

🔐 cement and sunshine (ten-cent clementines) by @navigatorwrongway (Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, The Armorer, Ahsoka Tano, Not Rated, 1.5k)

They’re just kidding themselves, at this point.

[tranakin-skywalker]

Wait you're making a fic for your torgruta au?? Tell me more please

Yeah, I've been thinking about writing a fic about it for a while now. Most likely it's going to be a series of oneshots so I can hop around to different parts of the story I find interesting.

A lot of the ideas are coming from the hyena discord, so I can't claim them as my own. But they are just too good to pass up. Like togruta making infrasound with their montrals and constantly projecting their moods. So when Anakin first gets to the Temple he's constantly screaming for him mom at a pitch that only other togruta can hear.

I've decided that that's actually how he first meets Ahsoka. She hears him making his lost, scared, where's mom, where's family sounds and seeks him out to comfort him. Ahsoka would be about four here, and would have left Shili recently enough that she could still remember what those noises mean, even if Tatooine togruta sound different from Shili togruta. (to a Shili tog Anakin's distressed noises sound like he's being maimed, but that's just because of the generational trauma and general awfulness of being a togruta on Tatooine. What they would think of the vocalizations he makes when actually being maimed we will not think about)

So Anakin and Ahsoka end up growing up together right from the start, and the main reason Anakin is so insistent on being knighted early is so that Ahsoka can be his padawan. It's a private thought he has to himself at first, but as Ahsoka gets older and no masters are showing any interest in taking her on she starts to panic. Anakin tells her that he'll just have to get knighted before she ages out so that he can be her master. And then the Clone War starts and he realizes that keeping his promise means bringing her onto the battlefield with him where she could die and he's not sure if he'll be enough to keep her alive :)

Because Shmi is a togruta too she does not get bought by Cleigg Lars. I am just. not dealing with the implications of that. (Listen. I want to read Shmi's marriage to him as a good thing, but I have a very hard time doing that.)

Now, there's actually a comic (Legands, I think, not Disney canon) where Gardulla goes to Watto and tries to buy Anakin back after he wins the Boonta Eve Classic. So have some fun thoughts about what would have happened to Anakin if he hadn't gone with Qui-Gon.

In the fic, Gardulla goes to buy Anakin but of course he left with the Jedi, so Gardulla decides she'll take Shmi as payment for Watto's debts. After all, if Shmi already had one child who turned out to be a talented podracer, well, she might have more. Hence the younger sibling that comes about shortly after Anakin leaves.

When Anakin goes back to Tatooine because of the nightmares about his mom he finds out that Watto sold his mom back to Gardulla and has to go to her to buy his mom's freedom. Which would be traumatic, on multiple levels. Anakin finds out that a month before he arrived, Shmi tried to escape with the sister Anakin didn't know he had, and Gardulla had their chips detonated. Gardulla even gives him their triggered remotes as proof.

(Of course unbeknownst to Anakin, Shmi and the sister survived and are living with a village of other escaped togruta.)

A lot of canon still happens the same, including Anakin's fall, Order 66, Mustafar, etc. But when Bail Organa sees Ahsoka at Padme's funeral he tells her that he can take her to a mutual friend of theirs. Ahsoka thinks (hopes) it's Anakin at first, and is devastated when she realizes it's Obi-Wan (and then hates herself for feeling disappointment because she should be happy that Obi-Wan is still alive, but he's not Anakin, and this means that Anakin must be dead).

There's no Lars family and the Organas would have a harder time explaining a non-human daughter, so Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up taking care of the twins. They eventually find their way to Tatooine because it's out of the Empire's notice and, well, because it's a connection to Anakin (Ahsoka's trying to hold onto anything she can that connects her to her brother and Obi-Wan is in his self-harming phase.)

And it's there that they eventually run into a little community of togruta and a woman who looks suspiciously like Anakin who has the last name Skywalker. But hey, Shmi gets to meet her grandkids at least. Even if it happens at the same time that she finds out that son she thought she'd sent away to a better life and hasn't seen in 13 years is dead. (Obi-Wan sees how much Anakin's death destroys Shmi and decides to never, ever tell her what he became. Vader will be his burden and it's a secret he will take to his grave. Anakin Vader is dead, and he'll save them from ever finding out how it really happened)

Of course, 15 years later Ahsoka goes to rescue some rebels from a walking death omen in black when she realizes the infrasound calls he's shrieking out of his mangled montrals is devastatingly familiar.

[memswritesfics]

I'll be with you - Ch.3

Summary: Did Daemon wish to abandon his wife never to give a sh*t about her ever again? Did Rhea think she would have to endure this treatment from her absentee Lord husband all her life? Would they ever find a way to live without having to deal with one another?

Or would fate change in the blink of an eye and somehow bring them closer together despite their painful past?

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce Word Count: 6048 words

A/N: This chapter got a little too long woops. Anyhoo, feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments or in my inbox. Reblogs, comments and likes are also greatly appreciated!!!

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Chapter 3: Colour me Surprised

She was tiresome, he thought.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Would you drop the sheep comment already? You weren’t even there to hear me say it. So what would you know?” he retorted, exasperated. He wished he wasn’t, but he was. It was just the way of them, wasn’t it? To forever be the truly tiresome pair that they were. Even if she was still trying to care for him right then. Even if she was still trying to be the sensible one. The level-headed one. While he was the impulsive, self-destructive one made of fire and blood.

Rhea smiled at him, just slightly, at the irritated question her lord husband had thrown at her. So much so that he noticed her turn her head away no doubt in an attempt to hide her amusement. Could anyone blame her? This had to be the first she had witnessed such a visceral reaction from the prince and having his own words thrown back at him.

And though Rhea had never been much of a humorous woman, this had never meant that she could not be pleased. Funny, how humour, even a little bit works. Because with such a small smile, now already slowly fading away, Rhea felt the shackles of her guard loosen slightly. The girl in her, the maiden who had once hoped that this marriage would be anything but what it was, wept. Even his insults, which once would have hurt her, now sounded nothing more than the whining of a boy who was denied sweets after dinner. Rhea thought to let it be until she found herself speaking.

Her usual cold response and defiance woke him up from thinking that things might have actually changed between them. He had fooled himself into thinking that maybe this time was different. After all, she had gone out of her way to sit by his bed during his illness. Perhaps he could stop being such an insolent idiot and be what she wanted him to be. Her husband. However, here they were, back in their usual push and pull. While she tirelessly repeated his words right back to him, and it was a nuisance.

This was exactly why he found her exasperating when she was not being dull. It was funny how they so easily reverted to their usual state after a momentary lapse of change. For a tiny moment, he actually thought that they might have found a way out of this self-destructive spiral they reveled in inflicting upon one another. Of course, he had to retort to her biting words because how could he not? He did not know how to be a bigger man. He was much too tempestuous to be one.

"Funny you say that, lady wife. Because does your cunt even know what it's like to be wet? I'd imagine not." He sneered, flopping down on the bed and then spreading himself over it as if he owned the whole damn thing. Which he did. It had been his bed all these past wretched days while his body was convalescing and before then even. To think he actually and for a brief and stupid moment thought he could share it with her. How daft he must have been. Except she was nothing but his unwanted visitor right then.

Her Lord husband was unusual. She found herself thinking.

"And were it ever to be wet, how would you know?" Rhea remarked, her tone cool and challenging. She let the implication linger with a pregnant pause, deliberately made only because she could. You were gone for so long, husband. How would you have ever known if I had not spread these legs? How will you ever know if I've never invited another into our marriage bed, and allowed them to see me writhe and claw and want the way you haven't? She thought to herself.

The answer would have been simple: he wouldn't know. All he had was his faith in her. But was Daemon Targaryen ever a man of faith?

"Is that so? I would have thought it was unbecoming for a lady to pleasure herself. And how exactly would you even learn of such a thing unless you went to visit some common whores to learn a lesson or two?" He didn't really think she would. She was too proper, too self-restricting. Even if she tried to rile him up by pretending to have lain with others, he knew better. He would have heard about any indiscretions if they had happened. And he hadn't.

Except even without having to hear anything, he just knew.

Because it wasn't like her. Her honour mattered to her more than anything else in the world did. He had learned that the first time he had stolen a kiss from her in the stables at King's Landing all those years ago, when she had been his young, dewy-eyed, and impressionable betrothed.

He paused and then sat up to look her in the eyes plainly. The irritation he felt was no longer there. His gaze was blank and just as unwavering, holding hers firmly. "I don't want the staff. I would like you to stay. As long as you stop jabbing at me and trying to make me seem worse when I am actually trying to be civil. Could you manage that, wife?" Perhaps if he presented it as a challenge she would take him on.

At her husband's odd request, she heeded. She listened. She sat up straight.

"If this is you being civil? Then by the gods, I would not pray to see you at your most chivalrous, husband." She couldn't help but retort, making herself comfortable in the chair that had been her station for days on end when he was fighting the infection and the fever. It was, by all means, a comfortable chair.

Rhea had half a mind to demand a pillow to pad her back, but she was only ever the unwanted wife and the last-minute assistant requested by Lord Corlys Velaryon to tend to what her husband could not. She would not make such ridiculous demands. She never had the right to anyway.

"You have no idea how chivalrous I can be when I choose to be," he said. "It's just that I don't try to be." He shrugged.

"Your men talk." She began, responding to his question from earlier. She was being cautious. Unaware that they could have a normal conversation without throwing accusations and laying insults at one another. Could they? They should be able to. (Deep down, Rhea really wanted them to.) "The sheep comment. Your men have surrounded me this past week. And they talk. A lot." She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in before Rhea tried catching his eyes again. Her expression was resolute and serious.

"Do they?" he asked, raising a brow. "I wouldn't be surprised if they did. It's not only my men who talk. It's most people. Human nature, you see. One that I'm not too keen on myself, but it is useful since I learn quite a lot from simpletons and their incessant talking." His wife was back to being her usual self he noted as he tilted his head to the side. His features were not surprised, but tired. He propped his cheek on his hand and eyed her with thinned lips.

She was still fighting him, even though he had made it clear that he didn't want to engage in such a conversation. At least she was sitting down and not leaving him. That was a start, an attempt for them to be civil to each other. If they could ever be that.

"I do not mind, you know. I am more than aware of who I am to you. Although, I did have to discipline a small few of your men who went overboard." Mainly those who had assumed that since their lord commander had freely insulted his lady wife, that would mean they could have a pass at groping her.

Rhea had taken hands for it. At least it left the rest of the men not to dare and act so despicably again. But she had no intention of sharing any of that. Instead, she merely cocked her chin upwards. Unaware of how attached Daemon was to his men. Perhaps a lot. And if that were so, then she had to disclose this much at least.

“Should you need compensation from those men I've let go, let me know. I will not be in your debt.” His eyes furrowed when he saw her expression grow serious. And then the words that followed made him wonder what had happened. What did she mean by having to discipline a few of them? And how had they gone overboard? She was even talking about compensating him. When all he wished to know was why. Would she tell him if he asked? There was only way to find that out.

“I don't care for debt. Tell me what happened, wife.” He was never good with feelings. He had never been good at being good. But in this moment, he found himself wanting to try. He wasn't sure if she would take his attempt at being truthful. She would probably mock him. And if that were her response, could he really blame her? Not really. Not after all the years and years of being what he had been to her. So why did she even bother to care for him after all the way he had treated her? Because she was better than him. More moral. More responsible. More solid. More grounded. More abiding by the bond that tied them to one another. In many ways, she was the opposite of him. But also the same as him, only in the parts that could be considered evil and unwanted.

“What if I did?” She suddenly asks, changing the topic back to their previous mention of her cunt. She was playing a dangerous game, she knew. “What if I had allowed men into my bed, and I’ve kept it well from you. How would you know I did not lie?” She let the question hang in the air for a good while.

“I would say, colour me surprised.” He mused lightly, not missing a beat at this change. Watching her curiously as he trailed the back of his hand along his chin as his amethyst gaze regarded her in a new light. Was this her being playful? He hadn't noticed this before. And truth be told, she was intriguing him right then, more than he had expected. But what was she trying to play at here? And more importantly, how did she manage to do such a thing? He didn't think her adventurous. But then again, he didn't really think her much of anything other than what he had seen or known of what little she had shown him. What he had been met with all their years of momentarily knowing one another during his months of forced exile at the Runestones. It had never been anything surprising back then. At least not until now anyway.

“I would know you were. Even if you hid it well, as you say. Because it isn't like you. It goes against your regard of honour. Something you hold quite to heart. Or am I mistaken?” Daemon asked matter of factly.

Rhea could not help herself. She smiled. It wasn't a smile born out of mirth or joy, of course. Not a grin that truly reached her eyes, and as any poet would claim in their prose, it did nothing to make her look infinitely younger. If anything, it accentuated the days which had worn her down as her life as Lord of Runestone were clearly (and though hopefully momentarily) replaced by her days as her husband's regent. Still, it was a smile nevertheless. A smile that graced her features. One would even dare say that there might be a tinge of shyness in it when Rhea was quick to duck her head again, though not from any attempt to hide such an expression away from prying eyes, but merely the fact that-

"So you do know your wife," she claimed aloud.

"Well since you haven't refuted my words, then, yes. I believe I do." He noticed that smile. And even if it wasn't one that was reflected deeply in her eyes and shown on the rest of her features. It was still a smile all the same. And he honestly felt quite pleased with himself for managing such a feat. Unaware that he could manage it in the first place. It was certainly unexpected.

He had never desired her. At least not before now. And even now, he wasn't certain if it was desire or his wanting to do something for her. As she had done for him. To carry out his duty as her lord husband. As she had done hers by being beside him all throughout his illness. A part of him strangely thought that it didn't have to be that way. In a brief moment, he had actually thought and wanted to do something good for her.

However, it backfired in his face. He realized that his approach could have been better, but he wasn't a man who knew how to coax and be soft by instinct. He had grown to be much too hard and callous to ever try now. And in the back of his mind, he knew, he really, truly, knew that she deserved softness after all the fire he had burned her with. He just didn't know how to give back to her. He couldn't. It simply wasn't in him. Or maybe it was, but he didn't want to look for it. What did it matter now, anyway?

When Rhea had heard his response, it had delighted her. But she always was no fool. She would not dare think that her lord husband was possessive of her.

After all, if he had never desired her as a wife, why would he care if others desired her? In that sense, Rhea applied her own logic to the situation. In all their years together she had never truly desired her own lord husband. If they had slept together on their wedding night, she knew that she would have simply laid there and let him have his way with her, simply for getting the act over and done with. And to hope that it would be enough for her to bear his children.

She believed there would have been no pleasure from the act; it was nothing but an alliance, after all, born of duty. However, after learning of the affairs he partook in. Rhea spared him no ill feeling besides the first dose of humiliation she felt within the first few years of their marriage.

Even then, it was only because the people around her had been ruthless in comparing her husband's bedmate preferences, pointing out that he had welcomed anyone but his own lady wife to his own bed. She had been upset back then, only because it had seemingly highlighted the duty she could not perform. That along with her rigorous need to not disappoint her father and the lady queen, she had taken it hard. But it was all in the past. She had grown stronger since then. It was only later that she realized that any sadness she had harboured back then was not particularly, because she had lost her husband as a lover. She had never wanted him as one. In fact, she had since then rejected him as he had done to her.

The conversation continued. Tell me what happened, he had demanded. Returning it back to serious matters.

Rhea's gaze flickered to him. Where would she start? That two of his men had groped her ass while she was trying to ask about the situation of his meagre kingdom? It was not a story she wished to tell. "They were being insolent," she said. "And I saw to it that they would not anymore."

Daemon listened to her quietly, expecting more than what she had said. Just one or two sentences, when he had hoped for an explanation. He realized she did not want to elaborate. Was it because she thought he wouldn't care? Or did she think he would be dismissive when he currently was being anything but? His eyes narrowed and there was a fire flashing within them.

"They were being insolent," he repeated quietly, understanding her well-behaved manner of shaping it. "Do you mean to say that they touched you?" A pause, one that was deathly and pregnant, before he continued.

"Where?" It was more a command than it had been a question. Already formulating ways in his mind's eyes of how to deal with whoever had dared do such a thing. Touch who was his. And his alone. How dare they? And how dare they think that they could get away with it?

He wasn't listening to her mention of having dealt with it. Because it wasn't her place to deal with it in the first place. It was his. And deal with it he would. Nothing else was on his mind but all forms of cruel and ugly means of death that could be inflicted on those who dared touch that which was his.

Rhea didn't much notice a change in him. Surely he would know of it later when he asked his own men – that is, if he remembered to. That was the incident, which had made the rest of the Gold Cloaks secretly whisper that she was, indeed, the queen of the Stepstones – unwanted of a wife or otherwise. Rhea was bored of the spectacles his men were prone to. She was more than aware that she was only ever ogled at because she was a lady.

She was certain her husband had taken more hands than the ones she had back then. It was strange then that they didn’t look at him as though he had grown two heads the way they did with her. "Does it still hurt?" she gestured to his wounded chest then – the burn, the infection, the scars of war. Rhea's eyes did not waver in fright. This was what her husband had endured – why would she look away?

It wasn't until she spoke and asked her question that he actually looked at her again. Brow furrowed and a little confused, before he looked down at where she was gesturing -- his exposed chest wound and the burns that had closed it up. He shook his head and then shrugged.

"Not as much as I would make those who dared touch you, hurt." His demand to know what had happened gripped her attention before her thoughts could stray too far. Rhea's eyebrow raised at the hardness of his tone.

Oh? she thought. So he was being possessive now, was he? Or rather, more territorial than possessive. Like a dog. That was her first impression. Or perhaps a dragon? Rhea wouldn't know about those beasts. Since whatever curiosity she had harboured of the Targaryens and their Valyrian blood, she had swallowed down the night he did not consummate their marriage. Still, she wished she knew a little now. She had never had to deal with a husband who was territorial of her, who would care to defend her honour when he used to be the one to slander it.

"I've already taken their hands," she said in a tone that was sharp and final, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. She stood up and headed to where she knew the maester had kept most of his ointments and treatments in a wicker basket. Then picked up a bowl of balm and returned to his bed, sitting by the edge of where his form did not already engulf it. "The maester would slather this on your burns and wounds each time they've bathed or cleaned you. Since you are not interested in wearing a shirt, I suggest you continue the treatment."

"Did you take a page out of my book of dealing with lowlifes?" He had to admit, he was surprised to know his lady wife could carry out such a feat. He didn't expect the vale to be adhering to his extreme measures but they weren't at the vale currently so perhaps that's why she got away with it. Nonetheless, even if she did do it. He didn't think it was enough. "It's a good attempt, wife. All the same, I will still deal with them in my own way. With the help of Caraxes."

And that was all she needed to know. She was smart enough to put two and two together and understand what he meant. Being burned alive was what they deserved for daring to touch who was his. His eyes followed her as she moved to bring about the basket then settled on the bed a little away from him. He could see she was taking care not to invade his space. Trying not to sit too close. But he didn't move away either. He stayed where he was and he frowned a little at her bowl.

"I don't need that treatment anymore, Rhea. It's healed just fine now. see?" He gestured to the angry red wound along with the various other marks on his chest. He hadn't really noticed that he had spoken her given name without the use of wife or woman. It had come out of his lips as naturally as though they were old friends who spoke to one another so easily. "And I like being shirtless in my chambers with my wife. Isn't it supposed to be a normal occurrence?" He added with a smirk and a shrug of his shoulders. He was trying to make light of a situation that she was trying to be very serious about. Except he didn't think it needed it really. He had passed the worst of his ailment and now it was just about regaining his strength again. Perhaps also for this wound to stop being so red too.

"I should thank you for caring about me, however. No one has done this for me since I could remember. Also, would it be wrong of me to try and get to know you better now, wife? I know I've hurt you over the years. But you have stood by me during my weakest moment and I would like to return the favour."

He knew he couldn't make up for all the years of abandonment she had suffered at his hand. But he also knew that since she had offered to do her duty towards him, he could also extend that much as well. It wasn't anything about not wanting to feel indebted to her. That wasn't the driving force behind his current motive. It was more a sense to make things up to her. If only a little. Little by little.

Things could be different between them. Perhaps.

His question caught her off guard. If Rhea were more expressive, perhaps she would have dramatically gasped. As it was, the only outward reaction she gave her husband was the way any trace of amusement fell from her face as the gap between her mouth closed. Her dark brown eyes roamed over him, searching for any underlying expression that might suggest an ulterior motive. Rhea shook her head once, ducking her gaze downwards. She could not bear to genuinely imagine, to sincerely hope, that this would mean anything more than them discussing debts. Her response was softly spoken.

"I release you of it. The favour, my prince." She will grant Daemon Targaryen his freedom. All she ever wanted as an adult is not to become her own husband's enemy. "You owe me nothing. I have done what any wife would have done."

“I don't wish to be released. Because it wasn't a favour. But kindness and a sense of duty that is a testament to your nature. I owe you for taking care of me. But I also wish to be with this wife who has taken care of me. I'm not ungrateful, Rhea." This time he actually was aware of his saying her name and he had even placed emphasis on it.

It was not a plea, but a simple wish to get to know the woman he had willingly abandoned. He had done it out of spite and rebellion, not because of anything she had done wrong. It was not her fault that he had been running away from her for so long. It was simply a cruel twist of fate that had kept them so estranged, even though they had never really tried to be anything different.

But now, he found himself wanting to change. He wanted to be different from the negligent prince who had disregarded his wife. He wasn't an ingrate. He didn't easily disregard those who did him well. In his own way, he was also honorable, though not to the same fault as she was. And it was for this reason, and not because he felt indebted to her, that he wanted to try. He wanted to be the husband she needed him to be.

He wasn't sure if he could do it, but he knew that if he set his mind to it, he could achieve anything. The battle at the Stepstones was a testament to that.

Did he want children? He wasn't sure. An heir would be a good thing to have, but would his wife give him one? And if she did, where would their child rule? No doubt she had other plans for her successor, so their hypothetical progeny might be left with nothing. Much like he was currently. Not heir to his brother's throne, replaced by his brother's daughter instead. Something that still didn't sit well with him, but that was a thought for another time.

He pursed his lips at her. Of course she would be iron-handed and dismissive of his words. Stubborn, just like he was. Choosing to listen to the maester's even though he knew what was best for him. He was actually feeling better than he had in a good while, but he didn't fault her for choosing caution. It was her nature to do things in their proper ways.

He watched her as she artfully scooped the glup and when her eyes met his, he quirked his lips upwards in amusement. Instead of giving her a nod of approval, he took her hand and the bowl and carefully scraped every little bit of the horrid concoction off her fingers until they were clean.

Then, with a swift motion, he pinned her underneath him. Holding her hands at the sides of her head, he looked into her eyes, before trailing briefly to her lips. He wanted to feel them against his as he had done all those years ago when they were much younger. But he wasn't going to make the same mistake of yesterday. He didn't want her annoyed at him and calling him one who gave cheap kisses.

"Will you let me kiss you, wife?" he asked.

"I don't want you calling me uncouth or accusing me that my cheap kiss would have you swooning at my feet. I also don't much care for you calling me 'my prince.' I know you're trying to reinforce that distance between us. One that I don't much care for having it exist any longer. So, what do you say? Will you let me kiss you and see where things go from there?"

Rhea didn't know what to do with a husband who suddenly changed his mind.

She excused his behavior in her head, not wanting to hurt his pride. Maybe it was the stress of defending this awful and wretched kingdom that had gotten to him. Maybe he even missed his lovers. Should she call them? Surely some of his men knew of his favorite pleasure houses. Maybe she could write to them. Or would it have been easier to hire the girls closest to the area of these Stepstones?

But then her husband distracted her train of thoughts. He took the bowl and easily scraped the concoction from her fingers. Surprisingly obedient of him, she thought while observing, until of course, she found herself on her back, and her husband on top of her.

Rhea sucked in a sharp breath. He was the blood of the dragon, and they did not tend to leave their preys unscathed. Except, he also said, "Will you let me kiss you and see where things go from there?" And for the first time, Rhea couldn't fully articulate it. She didn't know what he had planned, she couldn't see what sort of result he was trying to seek, what sort of means to an end she would become this time around for the member of this house.

"Let go of me," she said softly, her tone barely above a whisper. And she meant mostly his hands. The state of him on top of her, surprisingly, was not that concerning. Once it was free, Rhea did not immediately move to get up. Instead, bravely, boldly, her cold hands - the hands of the Vale - went to touch his face. The face of her husband. The face she didn't think she would ever touch. And she ghosts her fingers down the slope of his sharp cheekbones, his chiseled jaw; like a blind man finally gifted with the power of sight. This is the face Craghar Drahar saw as the rogue prince slew him. The thought sends shivers down her spine.Rhea didn't know what to do with a husband who suddenly changed his mind.

She excused his behavior in her head, not wanting to hurt his pride. Maybe it was the stress of defending this awful and wretched kingdom that had gotten to him. Maybe he even missed his lovers. Should she call them? Surely some of his men knew of his favorite pleasure houses. Maybe she could write to them. Or would it have been easier to hire the women closest to the area of these Stepstones?

Rhea breathed softly. She pushed strands of his hair back - it was cut short after the war, she understood, due to the thickness of the blood which had dried and matted when he came back to safety, though it was slowly growing back again. It was so white, she thought. So pale. The blood of old Valyria. And for a moment, Rhea thought about brushing the same hair back from Aemma's forehead; about gently tracing her fingers against the wisp of silver blond from atop Rhaenyra's own. She was only a few days' old then, Rhaenyra. That seemed so long ago. And she was touching one of them again.

"You may kiss me," Rhea said instead, now testily putting her hands against his collarbones, where she could feel, on his right side, his burn marks begin. "If you will take your meal. Tonight." When in doubt, negotiate. She would not only let him have his way. Did he not know her at this point, that she would not try to defend herself and still have him adhere to her own requests?

His lady wife might have been closed off and expressionless, but she was also kind and willing to help her husband. Perhaps in that kindness, they could find a way to start over. He would have to wait and see.

Because deep within the recesses of his closed-off heart, he could feel that things were stirring. A heart that he had shut away from love for so long because he didn't want the pain. A pain he knew he had inflicted on her with his abandonment. At the time, however, he had only been thinking of himself. He always only thought of himself, when he wasn't looking out for the best interests of his brother. That was long ago, though. Before he had been cast aside, thrown away without much regard. His heart had been closed off for much too long.

Except right then, something was happening for the very first time with her. He felt cared for, wanted. He was seen as a person, not a tool to be used in this battle or the next. And she had cared for him for all those nights, the signs of her exhaustion painted on her features. And here she was, still caring for him. How could his heart not stir at that?

Perhaps those who found out later on, that here he was trying to reconcile with the wife he had abandoned years and years ago, would think him gone crazy. Except was that really anything new? They already thought him insane, beyond hope, not fit to be anything but the prince. Never to be king, forever cursed to be the second son, shunned by the gods of old and new. Which he hardly cared for nor gave much heed to. The gods were useless. He only believed in himself.

His eyes narrowed, trying not to miss any signs her body and face revealed. Until he heard her words, spoken softly. He almost would have missed them if he hadn't been so keenly alert. And there was not a hint of fear in them. Nor was there anger. Just surprise. He realized then that a breath he had unknowingly held was released from him. His lungs forcing him to breathe, in and out, loud in his ears. And he did as she wanted of him. Until it was she who touched him. And he blinked. But that was all she got out of him. He was as still as a statue otherwise, allowing her cold fingers to roam over the warmth of his skin. She was studying him, softly, with such carefulness as though he were fragile. As though he could burn her, but she wasn't the least bit afraid.

She continued tracing her fingers along the length of his cheeks, the span of his jaw, along the breadth of his shortened hair. Learning him with the curiosity and innocence of a maiden that wished to know more about her lord husband. They might have been older in years, but in that moment, they were transported back to their stolen youth. She was the opposite of him. He was hasty and she took her time. He did things roughly, but she could be gentle. He wanted things now, but she wanted to savor and linger. They were opposites, but they could also complement one another, if he would allow himself that chance.

The words that came out of her next had him arch his silver eyebrows, surprised that she had accepted. Until he heard what followed and they relaxed. His lips curled into a half-grin. Of course, she was bartering. A kiss for his meal. Still looking out for him. Was she always this devoted? How had he not seen it before? Steadfast and loyal. He had only seen what he wished, not what she was. He hadn't missed the way her eyes refused to meet his. Was it shyness? And she wanted to have his evening meal with him. Now that seemed like quite the accomplishment.

A step in the right direction towards this new road, wherever it may lead them. Gingerly, taking his cue from her, he brushed the back of his knuckle across her cheek, swiping her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. As though he were trying to wipe away her insecurity. Banish it from her mind. His hand then dropped to her neck, leaving a trail of flame in their wake as it traveled down her body to settle on her waist. The other then cupped her cheek and leaned down to claim her lips with his. This being their second kiss, slow and sweet. Like embers waiting to be kindled. And not at all like the violent gush of fire awakening from the pits of a dragon's gut. He pulled away moments later, seating himself on the back of his legs.

"I wouldn't mind having your company, wife."

[mllemaenad]

The Magnus Protocol: Saturday Night

Well, that went better than expected. I mean – there are implications, obviously, but so far everyone's limbs still seem attached, so that is a definite plus.

The meat of this thing, the case file, is interesting, because of how far it leans into a desire for publicity.

We have:

A forum post with a deliberately provocative and arguably supernatural image in First Shift

The tattoo artist who live streams the creation of an obviously supernatural tattoo in Making Adjustments

The crowd-drawing (and occasionally crowd-murdering) violin in Taking Notes

The surprisingly popular horror media review blog that has had all content removed except the posts that detail the author's ensnarement in a supernatural film viewing in Personal Screening

Needles actively reporting his crimes and harassing the emergency service operators in Introductions

The unnamed gambler character in Rolling with It feeling inspired to dress up and cause supernatural havoc in public by getting people to roll the dice

... And now Mr Bonzo

Pretty much everything about Mr Bonzo, really. This was a character that regularly appeared on television. While the situation evidently escalated, it is strongly implied that there was always something wrong with him, both by the fact that Nigel does not know where the name came from, and by Gotard Rimbaeu's disproportionate terror at encountering him. He had a chart-topping song that can still apparently be used to summon him. He has merchandise that is still being sold. And the thing is, he's still making the news:

Geraldine And how do you respond to the more recent rumours? Nigel (on guard) Excuse me? Geraldine The witness statements from three murders over the last five years- Nigel (speaking over her) I told your producer this wasn’t going to be discussed. Geraldine -that claim a person in a Mr Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat? – The Magnus Protocol: Saturday Night

This bit here is clearly the point of this interview. The nostalgia and the laughter were all to lead Nigel into a trap: the big story here is that Mr Bonzo has been seen killing, and they want Nigel to comment on it.

I know this is a reference to a stunt on an actual British variety programme. I think it might even have aired at some point in Australia – but I must admit it wasn't something that was on my radar in the 90s. It's hard to be accurate about something from that long ago, but I don't think I ever saw it. I'm not completely sure how close this is to reality, but I think pretty close, barring the murders.

The point is, this is something that was obnoxiously popular in the real world ... and perhaps even more prominent here. Even if you're not aware of the cultural impact of this thing specifically – and like I say, this largely passed me by – you'll know how this kind of thing can spread. A novelty can consume the public consciousness. And if it's just a novelty – well, it might be annoying after a while, but no more than that. But if it's more than that?

In an odd way, all of this reminds me of Good Omens, and how the gone-native demon Crowley relates to his colleagues:

"I tied up every portable telephone system in Central London for forty-five minutes at lunchtime," he said. There was silence, except for the distant swishing of cars. "Yes?" said Hastur. "And then what?" "Look, it wasn't easy," said Crowley. "That's all?" said Ligur. "Look, people –" "And what exactly has that done to secure souls for our master?" said Hastur. Crowley pulled himself together. What could he tell them? That twenty thousand people got bloody furious? That you could hear the arteries clanging shut all across the city? And that then they went back and took it out on their secretaries or traffic wardens or whatever, and they took it out on other people? In all kinds of vindictive little ways which, and here was the good bit, they thought up themselves. For the rest of the day. The knock-on effects were incalculable. Thousands and thousands of souls all got a faint patina of tarnish, and you barely had to lift a finger. But you couldn't tell that to demons like Hastur and Ligur. Fourteenth century minds, the lot of them. Spending years picking a way at one soul. Admittedly it was craftmanship, but you had to think differently these days. Not big, but wide. With five billion people in the world you couldn't pick the buggers off one by one any more; you had to spread your effort. But demons like Ligur and Hastur. They'd never have thought up Welsh-language television, for example Or value-added tax. Or Manchester. He'd been particularly pleased with Manchester. – Good Omens, Corgi Edition, 1991. p.22-23. Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

The Magnus Archives was about secret cults and esoteric knowledge. It was about old men and their devoted acolytes trying and failing, over and over, to summon their gods. It was John running into other avatars and getting laughed at, because he had the power and the doom, but he hadn't been properly initiated into the Mysteries, so he didn't know the proper terminology.

It was also about the dead-end job you couldn't quit, no matter how much you wanted to.

The Magnus Protocol is the dead-end job you could lose tomorrow. The apparent high turnover at the OIAR, whatever the hell went on with Karl the former IT guy, Teddy losing his new job immediately after he got it – and Mr Bonzo. Mr Bonzo is the job you lose the moment a new guy turns up:

Nigel Well, there was a different man in the suit, of course. There were a few of them over the years. It was very physically demanding and that wasn’t the only injury we had with it. It actually became a sort of ritual: the newest member of the production crew wore Mr Bonzo until someone else joined. – The Magnus Protocol: Saturday Night

And it's also about freaking out a lot of people in one go.

If I have any theory about this part, it's this: what if the core difference between universes is a desire to be known, and this is because of the way The Magnus Archives ended?

There have clearly been supernatural entities in this world for centuries, at least – otherwise whence came the cursed violin? But it's impossible to reasonably discuss whether these are native beings who have been exposed to something new via interdimensional travel, or whether they are the entities from The Magnus Archives and something about the nature of interdimensional travel means that now they have always been here.

But either way, what if the new thing these beings have is ... a taste, let's say, for the public stage.

The entities from The Magnus Archives were like Hastur and Ligur. They might spend years tormenting one soul, or stage a whole set piece for one guy and have to deal with him just not getting the effort they put in. There were rituals, yes, and they were of a larger scale – but still tended to be desperately secretive.

It was craftmanship, sure, but in terms of nourishment it made them scavengers. They had to catch a person alone, or in a moment of emotional vulnerability, to feed upon them.

Then, of course, the apocalypse happened. And for a while, all the world was their smorgasbord. It turned out that everyone could be afraid at the same time. And while those set pieces still existed, they could shove lots of humans into them at once and torment them all together.

But then:

Archivist Because for the Fears to spread into these new worlds, they would need to leave ours, wouldn’t they? Annabelle If one should leave this place for… greener pastures, the rest must follow. Archivist Leaving us behind in the process, freeing our world at the cost of others.Basira What are you saying? Archivist We can pass them our apocalypse. [MUFFLED DISCOMFITED REALISATION] Annabelle Nothing so extreme. In these new worlds they would exist as they used to in ours, lurking just beyond the threshold. – The Magnus Archives: Connected

That puts everybody back to square one. I'm not suggesting that these beings have a coherent plan for restarting the apocalypse – we might get there, but these are creatures of feeling, not thought, so if we do it will likely be a human plan. Rather, I mean, that they have the feeling that they like being known. It was good to eat well. It was good when everyone was afraid.

And that changes the model. Now they're Crowley, setting up the M25 to churn out a smidgeon of low-grade evil every time someone drives on it. The push is not to isolate someone and work on them, but rather to declare to the world "Here I am".

Several people wore the Mr Bonzo suit. Not for long, but they were all touched by it. Millions saw "Nigel's SOS" (that is on the nose) and – and this is called out specifically – Mr Bonzo was especially popular with children, even though the original joke seems to be geared more toward adults. And all of them then knew about the serial killings. People don't work at the OIAR for very long, at least not usually, but everyone who does is exposed to the horror stories.

It's not the equivalent of being a statement-giver in The Magnus Archives, exactly. You don't have some personally crafted nightmare that will stay with you forever. But you know there are things out there that can hurt you. You have reason to be afraid.

And the OIAR seems to be sending Mr Bonzo out to kill. Kill whom? And why? Don't know. But as I said: he's making the news. And before him there was Starkwall. And they also made the news. By committing a massacre.

In more meta terms, Mr Bonzo seems to fill a similar niche to Jane Prentiss. He's almost certainly going to be a problem, but is probably not the problem with the world. But more importantly the kind of thing he is teaches you something about how the world works.

And he has some interesting similarities: in both cases you seem to be looking at something parasitical. Jane was both seduced and consumed by her wasp nest; and while there was enough of her left to understand what was happening she was desperate for help.

Nigel seems to be Mr Bonzo's prisoner, with the comedy dungeon transforming into a more literal hostage situation. But he's also his livelihood, and his claim to fame.

Geraldine Yes, I was going to ask – Mr Bonzo merchandise is still on sale via your own website. Do you feel at all uneasy about that? Nigel About what? The fact that a few sales might be from people trying to be edgy? A man’s got to make a living, Geraldine, and it’s not like I can tell if someone’s buying a t-shirt ironically. Besides, people think of Nigel Dickerson and Mr Bonzo is never far behind so it’s not like its changing my reputation. In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show. – The Magnus Protocol: Saturday Night

Jane was a creature of almost pure tragedy: sure, she had problems prior to the wasp nest – that's why she was vulnerable to it – but her descent into monstrosity is marked largely by confusion and distress. Nigel seems actively complicit in spreading Mr Bonzo around, and he's defensive when someone suggests it's inappropriate.

I assume the "worm tracks" Sam and Alice find when investigating The Magnus Institute are at least an Easter egg, although whether they're relevant to any of the current happenings remains to be seen. Whatever brought the place down mostly spared the archivist's office, and that feels relevant.

The return of the tape recorder is interesting, though, because it doesn't fit the pattern of how listening in has worked in The Magnus Protocol. Tape recorders were an Archives thing. Supernatural events would only record on tape. If no tape recorders were available in a given setting, eventually one would just manifest itself.

The situation in The Magnus Protocol has been much more opportunistic: any device with a microphone will do. If you stayed away from microphones – a thing Colin has largely managed to do – it couldn't create one to record you. Of course, tape recorders weren't just popping into being this early in The Magnus Archives either, so I'm not suggesting this is some permanent rule. But Sam and Alice's phones are clearly available as options: the first bit of conversation comes from a phone. But once inside, something makes a tape recorder when it did not have to.

And the other noteworthy thing is, of course ... whatever crawls out of the trap door at the end. Mostly this one is a "put a pin in that for later" situation, because while it's clearly important there's not much you can do with it just yet.

But there are a couple of things.

The first point of interest there is that it pops up just as Sam is talking about not being chosen for something. So is this someone who was chosen?

The second is how the character is credited: [ERROR]. That looks very much how one might see something in an error log; something technological in nature.

Which suggests Colin is right: he should figure out what's up with the computers as quickly as possible.

[infinitethree]

Daz is still in the hidden room, working on the code with Innit– which is surreally nostalgic– when Aster suddenly shouts at him.

“You planned to kill me just because I didn’t buy your act?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He squints up at the traitor, needing a few moments to recalibrate to sudden conversation.

“Oh,” he says, blinking. “You were a threat. You still are, technically.”

Aster glares at him, and Daz rolls his eyes. “Save your bullshit. The more you talk, the less able I am to work on the damn code.”

Naturally, Aster is suspicious of that. “Code for what, some new sociopathic plan of yours?” Daz shoots back, “Innit and I are working on making its body, actually. Y’know, the thing you pushed for so bad?”

Suddenly, the bastard is in his personal space. He’s got one palm against his shoulder like he’s keeping him pinned back and growls, “You did something, didn’t you?”

It’s surprising to see him get so handsy. “Don’t fucking touch me–” “What did you do, asshole? We both know that you wouldn’t suddenly decide to be a decent fucking person without a reason. So– what. Did. You. Do.”

Daz’s sight is hijacked to see the past again.

Aster suddenly stops dead in his tracks in the middle of doing work in his office. He’s fumbling with his com, scrolling through the player list as fast as he can with trembling hands. His face has gone ashen and his thoughts are–

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck c’mon, c’mon you bastard, tell me you haven’t done it yet!

A shaky laugh escapes from Aster, but he only takes a moment to revel in the overwhelming sense of relief he feels. Not dead yet. Thank fuck…I might actually become religious from this.

Aster takes a sharp inhale and then quickly flicks through his com to find a specific menu, one Daz knows too well. It’s the one for activating remote stasis chambers, and thus the only way most of them can access the Council HQ.

I might kill you myself for this, though. Fuck, Daz– why do you have to be so broken…?

…Was that how Aster reacted when he saw that Daz was about to get himself killed for good?

A twinge of guilt threatens to tug at him, but he bats it away easily.

None of that would have happened if Aster stayed in his own fucking lane, after all.

He’s yanked to the future, which he knows is the future because Future-Aster is looking at Future-Daz, and he looks older.

Plus there’s the whole– sappy emotions, and the earcuff in Future-Daz’s ear.

The eventual version of himself is asleep on a couch that Daz hasn’t seen before. The room is unfamiliar, too– is this where they live?

Actually, from what he can see of a window, he sees some of those trees Aster loves so damn much. He must have remodeled the traitor’s house, then.

The weirdest part is that there’s a kid conked out on Future-Daz’s chest. She looks pretty young, maybe only four or so. Her hair is done up in pigtails and ribbons.

The ribbons are what gives it away, though. Daz knows his own handiwork, and he knows he’d be gun shy about giving anything like that to anyone, but especially to a kid.

Any kid but his own, that is.

…Shit, they have a kid? That’s so fucking weird!

Future-Aster thinks to himself, She looks just like him. I guess I’m just used to kids who are adopted; it still catches me by surprise. That’s genetics for you.

Daz is suddenly thrown back to the present again, reeling at the baffling and surreal implication that they– what, get a surrogate?

Uhhhg. Gross, on multiple levels. In no way shape or form does he want to– have any of that, and especially not with Aster!

Said bastard grips his shoulder and repeats, “I asked you a question–”

It’s not worth hiding it. He can’t effectively torment him without spilling the beans, anyway. “Made a deal with the Showrunner. I work on Innit’s body, meaning Innit can work on its body, and in exchange I see the same shit you do.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then Aster scoffs and steps away. “You’re such a petty bastard.”

Even though it might prove his point, he retorts, “That’s not what you say at our wedding, you know.”

“Are you seriously going to–” Voice flipping to a mimickry of how Aster sounds, he recites, “ ‘I won’t say ‘til death do us part’. Death is too soon to let you go, so…instead? Instead, I’ll follow you through a hundred thousand lifetimes. Death, rebirth, oblivion– I don’t care. As long as you’re there, and as long as you want me…? I’ll follow you,’ ” Daz smugly tells him.

Aster glares at him with a surprising amount of venom, and then answers, “ ‘You stole my heart, but I can’t even be mad. Nothing in my life has been as good as you. Your devotion is the balm against the long, miserable, lonely years before I was with you. I can take on gods with you at my side, but without you I’m less than nothing. What I want more than anything is the die of old age in our sleep at the same as you. I love you to the point of madness; to the point of ruin.’ “

Goddamnit.

The bastard folds his arms over his chest. “You want to go low? I’ll match you. I’m not quietly putting up with your shit any more, Daz.”

He scoffs. “This’ll be fun to talk about eventually.” “Oh, I’m sure we’ll laugh and laugh over what an insufferable sociopath you used to be.” “No, I mean–”

Wait a minute.

He pauses. “...Have you seen anything big aside from the wedding and the– whatever the fuck you saw that had the suits?” “Christmas celebration, and no. Why, what did you–”

The wary question is cut off by Aster’s eyes suddenly going wide.

“Oh fuck no,” the bastard breathes. “A kid?!”

Uhhhhg, of course the Showrunner would decide to show him the damn kid.

He rolls his eyes. “Great, there goes that plan–” “To not tell me we have a goddamned child?!” “Well, evidently you adore her.” “I had fucking better, given she’s named after me!”

“Bullshit. She’s– uhg, apparently we do some shit with a surrogate–” “Then look up what ‘Azira’ means. Go on, I dare you.” Aster tells him.

He’d sound threatening if Daz wasn’t immune to him by now.

With a scoff, he pulls open one of the databases they use.

…Fuck. It means ‘a rising star’.

As he glowers at his com, Aster tells him, “I remember because it's a name related to stars. You know– my whole thing?”

“Clearly, I take pity on you and throw you a bone because I'm the biological dad.”

Aster stares at him, an odd expression on his face. “I– the rest of how fucked it is aside? That tracks. If I did love you and did decide to start a family with you, I'd rather– uhg, our kids, as gross as that feels to say– I would rather they have a shot at your freakish intelligence.”

…Huh. That's weirdly mature of him to admit.

“Granted, they'd also be at risk for inheriting your sociopathy, so maybe not. Tell me– was that genetic, or learned from your monster of a brother?”

Aaaaand there’s the loss of any goodwill that gained.

Sneering, he shoots back, “I know that about as well as you know if your stupidity is genetic.”

Aster’s gaze narrows, and he grabs a fistful of Daz’s shirt. “Careful, you don't want to piss me off.”

“Or what?”

A slow, ominous smile curls up on the bastard's lips.

“You made it so that nobody else can be an effective sparring partner for you. That means you're going to get your ass handed to you if you keep fucking around.”

He laughs in his face. “That’s your big threat?! Oh, honey…that's pathetic. You can't fully beat me up, you'll look like an asshole.”

Aster’s smile only grows. “You underestimate me, Daz. You always have.”

Is that really what he thinks?

Daz might have manipulated him, sure– but he always saw Aster as someone with potential.

That's why he extended a hand for the Council. It's why he pushed and bullied and forced Aster to grow.

Left to his own devices, he would be a fraction of the person Daz helped shape him into.

Aster, for years, held the most vital role in his plans. Daz never would have let someone he deemed unworthy control the Swords and Shields, nor hinge his last resort on them.

As little as he likes the traitor…Aster is competent, determined, and surprisingly humble.

He scoffs, “You understand me even less than before.”

With that, he forcibly removes Aster’s hand and gets up.

…Only to get hit with a dizzy spell and start going down immediately.

Aster catches him, probably without even meaning to. “Daz?”

Huh, he actually sounds worried.

Blinking dark spots from his eyes, he shoves his wrist upwards to look at his console. It takes a few tries to get it right, which he’s aware is a problem.

He struggles to focus enough to see the time, but Innit notes with surprise, it’s been sixteen hours since you ate. Were we really here for that long…?

Ohhhhh. Yeah, that’d do it.

He mumbles, distantly aware that the words aren’t coming out right, “Big pr’ject. N’t used to it. Forgot t’eat.”

He’s set down on the couch with a surprising amount of gentleness, considering they were fighting just a moment ago.

“I’ll be right back,” Aster tells him, going back through the passage he came from.

Right, sure.

Daz closes his eyes to fight the way his body is suddenly screaming at him to take care of it. He’s exhausted, starving, and sore from both the repetitive motions and not moving around much.

There’s the sound of a throat being cleared, and when he opens his eyes, two sandwiches are being held out to him.

…Huh. He didn’t actually think Aster would come back.

He grabs them and damn near inhales the food, ditto for the water he’s given.

Finally feeling a bit better now that he’s sitting and with something in his stomach, he asks Aster, “...Why?”

A long, tired sigh comes from the other Tommy, who sinks down next to him on the couch. “...I think you’re a petty, selfish bastard. But I don’t you to suffer,” Aster tells him, brow furrowed a little.

Weird.

“I still hate you for seeing in my head.” “Aren’t we even for that? I’ve explained my reasons. I reluctantly agreed once the wish was brought up; you did this all on your own our of petty spite.”

That gives him pause. “...You never mentioned it was reluctant.”

Aster stares at him in bafflement. “I was ready to refuse, but it’s a literal fucking reality warping wish– one I can hand over to anyone I want. There’s– shit, Daz, I might not have known but it was being offered by the god of time and reality. And fuck knows what else they reside over!”

He hates that he has a good point.

“I thought you jumped on the chance to pry my head open.” “I hated the idea, actually. I know you’ve secretive and I didn’t want to invade your privacy. But I assumed, stupidly, that I’d just– be told things. Like how Observers ask questions. In what fucking way was I supposed to know that I’d see things, and be in your head? I knew you’d be mad, but I, again stupidly, figured that you could recognize that the wish was worth the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

Daz knows he’s sulking as he mutters, “You could have asked me.” “Really didn’t feel like that was an option. Would you want to tell the Showrunner ‘please wait while I call up the guy you hate for permission’?”

Goddamnit.

See?! I told you he’s a good person!

“Shut up,” Daz mutters, scrubbing at his face. “I don’t need you yammering in my ear, too.”

Stop being a dick ‘cause I was proven right yet again. You always ignore me and it always fucks you over.

Aster asks, “Innit talking?” “Mhm. I’m not acting your gofer, you’ll have plenty of time to talk soon enough.”

There’s a little bit of blessed silence, and Daz feels his eyes getting heavy.

Fuck, he doesn’t want to fall asleep like this. But he’s tired, and…

And, as little as he wants to admit it, it’s nice to have someone next to him.

A small, stupid, childish part of him wants to ask Aster to stay right here so he might not be tormented by nightmares.

But also, he’d rather die than voice that tiny desire.

There’s a little disappointment as the other him starts moving, but it was inevitable.

Then he’s scooped up.

He sputters, “Wh– what the fuck?!” “Unfortunately for you, I know what you want. Even worse, I’m not enough of an asshole to refuse,” Aster tells him, just before tossing him onto the bed.

His heart hammers. “If you try anything weird–” Giving him a withering look, Aster snaps, “The fuck do you take me for? No, asshole, I’m dealing with your nightmares, insomnia, and touch starvation in one fell swoop.” The bastard undoes his shoes and flops down.

Oh hell no.

He tries to get up, but Aster yanks him back down. “I don’t trust you to get home on your own, and you’ll sleep like shit anyway. If you’re doing something nice– even if it’s for extremely fucked up reasons– I’m rewarding that by letting you actually fucking sleep for once in– what, four years or so?”

…It sucks that he can’t muster up the energy to fight this more seriously.

But, gods, real sleep sounds amazing. And his body is screaming for it, practically forcing it on him already.

So, reluctantly, he lets Aster wrap his arms around him and start messing with his hair.

“You can go back to being an insufferable asshole tomorrow. For now, just take this with a little grace.”

Daz can’t reply, because he’s already out like a light.

[atopvisenyashill]

the way twitter stans don't get matt smith is playing up the blacks vs greens conflict like most of the actors have been in the recent interviews, like ofc as the person who plays daemon he's gonna say he doesn't like alicent lmao

(also i find it interesting how all of the crazy team green twitter stans had no problem when tgc called jace a dweeb isn't that hate too🤔)

no YEAH and like, obvious caveat it isn't the whole fandom but twitter does incentivise the absolute craziest people to get popular which means some of thee most annoying people to have ever existed in this world are popular in the greater hotd fandom, and what's been consistently frustrating is how many people who are either rhaenicent/girls focused or tg stans who just refuse to acknowledge the absolutely cracked behavior coming from their side. like, all this focus on olivia, basically with the implication that this is an isolated thing like with the hate lena got for playing cersei, but it's not because imo the internet (or at least twitter) has gotten infinitely worse since got finished, so it's not just olivia getting this insane behavior, it's the bulk of the cast! and it's coming from everyone, from the angry book fans, the targ nation delulus, the femslash enjoyers, tb, tg, every subfandom has had some insane and over the line behavior directed towards the cast that loves to default to either "well you're ugly and i hope you die" or just straight up bigotry.

like the amount of people (largely the "toxic yuri enjoyers" or the tb stans, i can whack the people i hang out with!!) going after tom for saying standard actor stuff like "I love my character" or "i feel bad for my character" and saying he's a rape apologist is crazy. people didn't even go after jason momoa for that real dumbshit "i get to rape beautiful women" comment this hard! is he supposed to not try to understand the character he's playing?? are people who play villains or antagonists just never allowed to feel sympathy for their characters? that's crazy, that's insane, but especially in a series where a) there are SO MANY villain protagonists and b) this series is known for exploring why bad people turn into bad people and why good people do bad things and what even a "bad person" or a "good person" looks like, so why are we mad that the cast plays into this??

and YEAH tbh like you say, i think there's a lot of in this case tg stans specifically who get so fucking angry whenever Matt Smith plays along with the "all must choose" angle but it's like - yeah of course he does, he's not the only one doing this, he clearly thinks it's fun to joke about how he's gonna decimate ewan mitchell, and i think a lot of his bts stuff throughout his career has gone from the two extremes of "having something amazing to say" and "being completely and totally unserious" because this is a job he does, and he likes to get goofy with it. it's fine!!! but no, apparently, it's such a crime to simply exist and like that he's playing this fun character with a goofy wig and a cool aesthetic that we've gotta dogpile every post about him calling him ugly!! but when The People We Hate In Fandom do something vile like call olivia a cunt to her face, that's the true evil! and when People We Are Friends With start saying really weird shit about fabien being ~violent~ we just look the other way even tho that feels just a lil racist!!!

it's more frustrating because you can't even say this is a fandom that skews young like a shitty teen show or a cartoon - this is a grown up show for adults, this is prestige tv, this is a show and a series you actually think "maybe i should wait a few years before i let my middle schooler dig into that one" but the fandom is SO INSANE. WE ARE ALL ADULTS WHY ARE WE ACTING SO JOBLESS. GO PAY YOUR CHILD SUPPORT. DO SOME YOGA SO YOUR BACK DOESN'T SEIZE UP BEFORE 40. TOUCH GRASS!!

[cycat-carisi]

Commitment

Pairing: Trevor x Nicky (1x06 Pete's Wife)

Summary/A/N: In 2x22 (The Heir) Trevor mentioned that he almost moved in with a woman, but that she wanted him to commit. In 1x06 (Pete's Wife), Trevor gets Sam to look up Nicky, a woman he thought could have been "the one". I said, why not make them the same person and explore the moment that T-Money bailed on his own happiness. You know, because why not sprinkle a little more angst into this fandom :)

Tags/warnings: Cussing

Words: 1094

Additional note: I kinda feel like Trevor's unfinished business has to do with his commitment, accepting that money doesn't define his worth and having someone actually love him in return. So, I kind of want to make this into an H-Money series and weave in cannon moments plus steer these two in the right direction towards each other.

AO3: link (or below the cut!)

“Why so mopey, bro?” exclaims Chet, half-drank beer in his hand.

Trevor’s frown deepens as he plunks himself down on Ari’s expensive sofa.

“Yeah, dude. Who shit in your cornflakes?” chimes David Woodstone, swigging back his own chilled can of alcohol. “Thought you were having Nicky over tonight.”

Ari pipes up next as he saunters towards his friends. “Trouble in paradise, my man?”

Trevor releases a sigh. His voice quiets. “I think it may be over, guys.”

A collective gasp resonates through the lavish apartment.

~

“You taste scrumptious, sweetheart,” Trevor coos between kisses to his girlfriend’s neck. He feels her hum with affection against him.

“Babe,” Nicky begins, her voice tender and sweet. “What are we? I mean, we’ve been on and off for the better part of a year. I love being with you, but this whole arrangement where one of us comes over, we spend time together, and then one of us leaves again just doesn’t feel right anymore. I want us to be more than that. Being with you feels right, Trev.”

Trevor’s stomach drops. His whole body freezes. Is she saying what he thinks she’s saying? He props himself up on an elbow to meet her gaze. “What do you mean, Nicky?”

She must sense his unease because Nicky’s expression drops as she answers. “I mean, I want to have a proper relationship with you. I want to take this,” her fingertips graze his bare chest before pulling back to her own, “to the next level.”

“Like move in together?” Panic begins to set in. Trevor’s voice raises an octave.

“Well, maybe,” she keeps her voice soft, “but maybe more than just that? Maybe we can make our commitment to one another clear.”

Trevor’s brain stalls. Commitment. One simple word yet so many implications. So much weight behind its meaning. He adores Nicky, but does he love her? Does Trevor even know what love feels like? Does she love him? Is that what this is about?

His silence must have gone on for just a little too long. Nicky’s shoulders droop, and a defeated frown creeps its way onto her features. “Never mind,” she sighs, moving to get up.

“Nick, wait!” exclaims Trevor. And the look of hope that lights up her face as she turns around shatters Trevor’s heart. He tries to play it cool like he always does. “You know me, babe! I...I don’t deal well with all this intimate stuff.” Somehow, those are the only words he can think of.

A tear. It appears there in the corner of her eye, but she refuses to let it slip out. Nicky puts a hand up. “Save it, Lefkowitz. I should have known better than to push you towards this. I should know that you’re not that kind of guy.”

It’s like a hot iron rod is being driven through his chest, yet Trevor does nothing as he watches her dress, gather her belongings from the drawer he lets her use, and leaves.

~

Trevor’s head hangs between his shoulders as he leans forward on the sofa. “I royally fucked up.”

“Dude,” David preaches from beside Trevor, “chicks think that they can just tell their men what to do. Take away our autonomy.”

“But I really–” Trevor shifts, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “I picked this up on the way here.” It’s then that Trevor reveals the small velvet box.

“Holy shit, bro!” gasps Chet.

“No fucking way!” shouts David.

Ari’s eyes widen into saucers.

Trevor holds the open box in his palm; its contents glitter in the afternoon light.

Sure, he gets invited to all the parties. Sure, he likes to splurge on a nice suit every once in a while. But the truth is, Trevor is not rich like Ari or David. Instead, he works hard and pays his rent, but while desperately tries to fit in with his friends’ lavish lifestyles, Trevor just isn’t really there yet.

So, the rock in his hand isn’t huge or overly expensive, but maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

“Are you insane?!?!” Ari exclaims as if this must surely be some kind of prank.

“Bro, you are so whipped!” David gargles out a laugh, which sparks Ari to join in. Chet just stares, dumbfounded.

Trevor’s eyes dart between his friends, forcing a smile and a laugh amidst his confusion.

“You’re not serious, are you?” chides Ari, his words making a pit form in Trevor’s stomach.

When Trevor doesn’t answer, Ari just scoffs. “Trev, engagement spells the end of all fun.”

“No bro-nights. No drinking. No exclusive parties,” adds David.

Ari seizes the opportunity to continue. “You’ll just be dragged into the world of domesticity. Dinners with her friends and her family. Wedding planning. Then come the kids. Diapers. Being forced to stay home all the time. Not to mention that she won’t want you working in the city away from her. She’ll force you to take a safe job in the burbs and isolate you even more from us. I mean, we’re chick magnets, so she’d obviously be jealous all the time.”

The pit in Trevor’s stomach grows; it’s heavy and pushes acid into his throat. The question he had earlier resurfaces in his brain. Does he love Nicky? Is she the one? But would she try to change him or stop him from doing the things he enjoys? He is still young, with so much life to live and so many things to tick off his bucket list. But then, why had he just gone out and bought a ring?

“Trev, buddy,” Ari says, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder and shaking Trevor from his thoughts.

Trevor gazes upwards, finding David as the one about to speak. “She’s probably got the plans for your future already mapped out.”

“Dave’s right,” Ari interjects. “You’re blinded by shiny stones and what-ifs. You’ve only been hooking up for the last year. Are you really ready to give all this”, he gestures around the room, “up for one person who probably wants to dictate the rest of your life? You need to look out for you, pal.”

His brow furrows as Trevor glances around absently.

Trevor always felt like he was going to be something. A few more promotions, and he would be raking in the dough. Then it would be him in a penthouse like Ari’s. Him hosting parties on a yacht. Him being able to afford Nicky the life she deserves. But right now, he couldn’t stop himself from living and enjoying the life that would get him there.

Not yet at least.

Feedback is loved ♥

[peacerisendove]

Big Ethel Energy Season 2 Episode 23

Dove Episode Summary: Ethel continues to be selfish/a bad friend, the story actually recognizes that for once (whoa!!!), people continue to be nosy as hell, and this webcomic continues to steer toward the dramatic.

It's called overcompensation by your girlfriend because she got called out.

By the way I'm still mad the comic brushed off how Moose treated her in and displayed such unwarranted aggression and jealousy (Season 2 Episode 16). And she just forgave him just. Like. That. Before Ethel accepted Moose's explanation that it's just a fight and moved on to overcompensating. That's how Moose's first relationship must have ended! The anger! The jealousy!

Those are red flags, girl!! That was not just a fight!! You don't get over ANYONE insulting your character and looking down on you that fast!!

I know it wasn't this episode but GOD the whiplash makes me mad. I'm hoping the dissolution of their relationship IF it happens addresses this.

Now back to current events:

HER BEING TERRIBLE IS ON PURPOSE FOR ONCE. HALLELUJAH! THAT'S WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR.

GIRL LEFT TIM AT JUGHEAD'S TILL 11:31 PM. JESUS. And look at Jughead being so understanding despite the fact she's been gone since-- Let's check...

(Season 2 Episode 20)

ALMOST SEVEN WHOLE HOURS. WHAT KIND OF PERSON ABANDONS THEIR FRIEND, FORGETS ABOUT THEM AND THE FACT THEY'RE LOCKED OUT OF THEIR APARTMENT, FOR SEVEN HOURS.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE, ETHEL.

(Also let me take a bat to this chibi Ethel bubble for trying to lead us on. She doesn't actually care if she can leave him there for seven hours without much of a thought.)

Truth and beauty bombs from my fav. Also I haven't mentioned this , but Juggie is looking good in these panels. I like his outfit a lot.

I swear if they are rewriting/retconning what felt like such a clear implication that Jughead was asexual and aromantic. I'm gonna be a so mad.

Now I know sexuality is fluid and how people identify changes over time, but goddammit I thought we had some more ace/aro/acearo REP. It feels real shitty after an initially shitty way of what felt like an attempt at ace/aro/aroace rep.

Oh, my god. I know it's a drama forward webcomic, but why does everyone have to be in everyone else business??? There's got to be other ways to get conflict other than gossip or misunderstandings. Right???

Honestly just let someone be shitty straight to someone's face. I'll take that over another misunderstanding, which honestly, I would bet money is a part of how Ethel and Moose break up if they break up.

Honestly here's a list of contributing factors I think could lead to their potential break up:

Moose's jealousy

Moose's aggression issues

Ethel's lack of communication skills

General communication issues

Misunderstandings

Gossip coming from others

Ethel's crush on Seth

Jughead being a trigger point for Moose

Resentment toward Moose regarding how he treated Ethel (ex: Season 2 Episode 20)

[to-thelakes]

hot water bottle

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; you always struggled to sleep and you hated luke knowing but he wakes up and does his best to help.

warnings; pure fluff, just pure fluff, implications of reader having insomnia

notes; i feel like this one-shot truly exposes my britishness, a proper kettle, hot water bottles? i feel like there's something quintessentially british about how reader acts in this but i might just be insane. either way, i wrote this super self-indulgently so i hope u can all still enjoy <3

masterlist

It was another one of those nights. You hadn’t had one in a while but after you and Luke had gone to bed, you couldn’t sleep. The two of you had decided to sleep, curled up against each other but at some point as you tried desperately to drift off, Luke had rolled away from you. You were glad really because you didn’t want to wake him up. You knew that he wouldn’t mind and he would want to know but you also wanted him to sleep. A case could pop up at any minute and you didn’t want to be the reason that he wasn’t feeling his best.

If you didn’t feel your best, that was on you and you knew how to deal with it. But it was exhausting, constantly shuffling over and trying to sleep. You were somehow cold and yet a perfectly normal temperature and when you kept your eyes closed for too long, your world felt like it was spinning.

But you wanted to make a hot water bottle. You had noticed it earlier that day when you and Luke had sorted out the bottom of the closet. You hadn’t used it for months and now, you wanted it. You wanted the warmth against your skin and the comfort. It was all you could think of to maybe help you fall into sleep.

It probably wouldn’t help but you could try.

So, as silently as you could, you slipped from under the covers and padded over to the dresser where you had abandoned the hot water bottle earlier. Once it was in your grasp, you headed downstairs. Despite your best attempts, Roxy had noticed you moving and she lifted her head, looking up at you. You sent her a soft smile in return before slipping out of the bedroom. 

It was clear that she didn’t sense anything was immediately wrong and so, she settled back into her bed. You were glad. You didn’t want to confuse her and you honestly weren’t sure you could hold it together if Roxy was walking around with you. The soft little nuzzles and her big eyes had a way of breaking your walls down even though she couldn’t say anything. It was a small mercy.

You took the stairs down to the bottom floor and slipped into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water before flicking it on. You unscrewed the top of the hot water bottle before shaking any excess water out. Once it was cleared out, you placed it on the side. It was just a matter of waiting for the kettle now.

You rested back against the counter as your eyes scanned the kitchen and living room. You hadn’t bothered to switch any of the lights on and the moonlight meant you could manoeuvre around with ease. It just seemed unnecessary and would unnecessarily wake you up which was the opposite of what you were aiming for.

You must have zoned out because when you heard a soft call of your name, the kettle had finished boiling and Luke was standing in the doorway. Your eyes refocused on him and you sent him a quick smile before you flicked the kettle back on again to make sure it’d be hot enough.

“What are you doing awake?” Luke’s voice was hoarse and groggy, thick with sleep. Your gut churned with guilt and he noticed the hot water bottle, “Have you got cramps?” He asked as he walked over to you. You shook your head.

“No, I’m okay. Just wanted a hot water bottle,” You dismissed as you glanced at him over your shoulder. The kettle flicked off and you began to count in your head to 30.

1, 2, 3, 4.

Luke wrapped his arms around you.

5, 6, 7, 8.

His face nuzzled into your neck.

9, 10, 11, 12.

You picked up the hot water bottle.

13, 14, 15, 16.

You began to fiddle with the stopper as Luke pulled you against him.

17, 18, 19, 20-

“Am I allowed to know what’s going on?” He asked, interrupting the tick of numbers through your head. Realistically, it would probably be fine now and so you leant forward and picked the kettle.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” You dismissed as you began to pour the water into the hot water bottle. He watched you, chin rested against your shoulder but you could feel the worry radiating off him, “I promise, I’ll be okay,” You said, placing the kettle back down. You then put the stopper back in and waited a moment before untwisting it and letting the hot air out. Then you twisted it and slipped it under the waistband of your pants, resting it against your stomach. Your body had done it on automatic but you didn’t have cramps so instead you slipped it back out and pressed it against the side of your chest.

“Shall we go back to bed?” He asked. You nodded and the two of you headed back upstairs. Luke slipped back under the covers and you stared at the bed for a moment before sighing. The thought of crawling back under the sheets just made you want to give up. The bed had been the bane of your life for the past four or so hours. Luke watched, concern etched across his features, “Hey, look at me,” He let out the soft demand and you flicked your gaze up to his face.

“Don’t give me that look,” You muttered before you crawled onto the bed and knelt in front of him. He gently tugged you into his lap and you curled your head against his bare chest, “I know you think that there’s something else going on but there isn’t. I just can’t sleep and I don’t know why and yeah, maybe it’s anxiety or it’s just because I’m really overwhelmed right now but that’s not what’s on my mind and keeping me up. I just can’t sleep,” You rambled. You wanted him to understand that you felt okay. You didn’t feel amazing because you’d be asleep if you did but it wasn’t something that you could talk about with him. It was just something keeping you awake.

“I believe you,” Luke responded, “What bothers me is you didn’t wake me up,” You sighed and slipped the hot water bottle to rest between your two bodies before you slipped your arms up to wrap around his neck.

“Sorry,” You mumbled. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, “I just wanted to make sure you got good sleep,” You admitted against his skin. He shifted his hand to run across your back, running patterns along your skin.

“I’d sleep better knowing you were okay,” He whispered against your ear. You sighed and tilted your head down, the guilt churning in your stomach, “Let me help you get some sleep, okay?” He asked. You nodded and he shifted so that you were both lying down. You rested on top of him, cheek resting against his pec and you could hear the thump, thump, thump of his heart beating. It was a soothing sound and you let your eyes close.

“Can you talk to me?” You asked, “I just wanna hear your voice.” Luke moved his hand to stroke across your arm.

“Okay,” He said and then he began to talk. It wasn’t about anything in particular, he switched from talking about the hike he and Roxy had gone on to his favourite thing to bake and then how much he loved to see you happy. You weren’t sure what it was but listening to his voice, the soft thump of his heart and his hands against you seemed to soothe your agitated mind.

It wasn’t an instant fix but your eyes were closed and stayed closed. You didn’t feel the need to force them back open and your world seemed to stay stable for the first time all night. He continued to talk, switching to talking about his mom and the recipes that she used to cook and how much she loved you and Luke could feel how the tension released from your shoulders the more he spoke.

Knowing that you were starting to relax made him feel better. The tension and worry in his gut seemed to slip away as he continued to talk until you stopped making your little intermittent mumbles of agreement and small questions. He could feel the even breaths you let out, your eyes closed and when he stopped talking, you didn’t say a word. It seemed that you were asleep, finally. He smiled and slipped his hand under your sleepshirt, resting his hand against your bareskin. He wanted that closeness as he let himself drift back to sleep too.

[americanbrffan]

Blind Gossip Blinds - 2020

In chronological order after the break.

Public Relations Chaos - BLIND GOSSIP

January 10, 2020

There are a lot of messy celebrities. It is the job of their publicist to make them look less messy. This actress has been messier than most.

She tries to come across as mature and self-contained, but both her behavior and her press have been nothing short of bizarre and chaotic.

In the past few years, our TV actress she has gone from promoting herself… to hiring a Hollywood PR team… to using her new family’s PR team… to going back again to the Hollywood PR team (which did not sit well with the family).

Whew! No wonder the branding and messaging have been so crazy!

However, there is something interesting going on right now. A media person called the actress’ Hollywood PR team to get verification of something… and the Hollywood PR team said that they no longer represent her!

What?! We’re not exactly sure what this means.

Did she fire her publicist in the middle of this crisis? Did they quit? Are they handling her newly-formed organization but not her personally? Is she trying to do her own PR again? Did she hire a new publicist?

Since she is so high profile, you would think that a new PR professional would happily announce themselves as having snagged her as a client. Yet… crickets.

No one seems to know what’s going on. This is all very odd. And very chaotic. As usual.

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Stockholm Boy - BLIND GOSSIP

January 14, 2020

Many people have been wondering why this family has not been more brutal and decisive in cutting out its rogue members.

Fortunately, we have some insight from an insider!

The family is thinking about the long-term implications. While they are upset about what is happening, they do believe there will come a time in which he will return to them.

What time is that?

They believe there will be a divorce within five years.

So, what is their strategy?

They must allow him to go but keep in contact and leave the door open for him to return. If they close the door on him, he might feel obligated to stay in the marriage longer because there would be no where else for him to go.

What about his wife?

The most frequent word I hear used to describe her internally is “duplicitous.” They know that from the beginning she has said or done whatever she needed to do to capture him, all while planning to do the exact opposite after marriage. They call it a “long con.”

If they knew this, why didn’t they warn him?

They did so repeatedly! Any warnings from the family were summarily dismissed by him.

This is a powerful family. Can’t they take her down?

Despite the conspiracy theories, his family will not “take her out” or publicly “take her down.”

They have dual objectives: To get him to return to the family, and to protect the family. To do both requires great restraint on their part. For example, they know that they can not criticize her openly.  Criticizing her would only result in his defense of her and in her positioning herself as the victim or martyr. Unfortunately, she has conditioned him to see her as his only ally and his family as the enemy.

So, does this mean that his family will work with her?

Only insomuch as to facilitate his return. That is a primary objective.

That wording almost makes him sound like he is being held captive.

In many respects, he is an emotional hostage who is siding with his captor. He is not locked up in a room, but he is emotionally tied to her because she has successfully alienated him from everyone else in his life. She is in charge and he will not work against her.

That sounds like Stockholm Syndrome. Can’t his family pay her a “ransom” to get him back?

Right now, she is confident that she can make much more money with him than by giving him up. That is what makes this situation so unusual.

It certainly will be interesting to see how this all plays out!

SOLVED!

Couple: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle

Your friends at Blind Gossip told you a year ago that there is a very interesting dynamic between Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

Although he is the one from a prominent family – and is much wealthier and more famous than Markle – she has been in charge from the beginning.

We are now getting public confirmation of our blind item from a year ago. Royal aides actually gave Prince Harry the nickname “The Hostage” to describe his relationship to Meghan Markle!

So let’s talk about Harry The Hostage.

From The Daily Mirror:

PRINCE HARRY NICKNAMED ‘THE HOSTAGE’ BY ROYAL AIDES AHEAD OF WEDDING TO MEGHAN MARKLE

Royal aides dubbed Prince Harry ‘the hostage’ in the run-up to his and Meghan Markle’s wedding, it has been claimed. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s tell-all interview with Oprah Winfrey is due to air this weekend in a dramatic week for the Royal Family.

Yes, Oprah Winfrey – who didn’t even know the couple before being invited to their wedding – is getting the interview she has planned from the beginning. This should be interesting.

Harry and Meghan tied the knot in a fairytale ceremony at Windsor Castle broadcast around the world in May 2018.

It was a nice wedding, wasn’t it? Oops. Sorry. Wrong wedding. Here you go.

But the run-up to the wedding saw reports of tension between the couple and staff. After an argument reportedly erupted over Meghan’s tiara, Prince Harry is said to have clashed with the Queen’s dresser Angela Kelly. The incident sparked a telling-off for Harry from the Queen after he allegedly fumed “what Meghan wants, Meghan gets”.

 That last sentence sums up everything.

It has now been claimed that royal aides behind the scenes had dubbed the 36-year-old ‘the hostage’.

“The Hostage.” There you go! Harry The Hostage knew what the protocol was but was more beholden to Meghan’s demands.

The couple reportedly “insisted” on the same-inflation adjusted budget for their wedding as Prince William and Kate.

Really? Harry isn’t the future King of England. He has always known that. He knows that the wedding of his father Prince Charles, the future King of England, to Diana, was a huge affair and dubbed “The Wedding of The Century.”

The weddings of Prince Charles’ siblings, Princess Anne, Prince Edward, and Prince Andrew were not of the same scale as Prince Charles’ wedding and did not get the same coverage because they were not the heirs to the throne.

Of course Prince William, the future king, should have a grander wedding than Prince Harry. Harry knows that this is how it works.

We wonder where Harry The Hostage suddenly got the idea that his wedding should be equal to Prince William’s wedding?

One source told the Telegraph Meghan “got everything she wanted but it still wasn’t enough.” They added: “She was constantly looking for reasons to say she had been deprived. “Also she wanted drama from the very beginning. In the centre of a storm, she’d always be very calm.”

So she would get in there, create drama, and then sit back and watch the result.

It comes as the Duchess of Sussex criticised the constraints she faced when a working royal and said it was “liberating” to be able to “say yes” to Oprah Winfrey’s request for an interview.

Asked what was “right” about this moment to talk, Meghan paused for a few moments and replied in the clip aired on CBS This Morning: “Well, so many things. That we’re on the other side of a lot of… a lot of life experience that’s happened.

“Also that we have the ability to make our own choices in a way that I couldn’t have said yes to you then. That wasn’t my choice to make.

She is a victim.

“As an adult who lived a really independent life to then go into this construct that is…different than I think what people imagine it to be, it’s really liberating to be able to have the right and the privilege in some ways to be able to say yes.”

“Different than I think what people imagine it to be.” No. You can’t plead ignorance on this one, Meghan.

Everyone knows that they call the BRF “The Firm.” That’s because it is a job. A job that comes with a lot of perqs and a lot of rules and formalities and a construct.

Does anyone think being part of the British Royal Family means being able to wear and say and go and do whatever you want, whenever you want? Anyone?

No.

Being a member of The British Royal Family means supporting The United Kingdom and its customs and its citizens. It means helping to strengthen national unity and stability. It means staying out of politics. It means ribbon- cutting ceremonies and attending the opening of a new hospital wing.

That’s the job. Harry knows that.

And Harry certainly told Meghan that those were the responsibilities of the job, and she certainly witnessed it herself before the wedding, so she can’t pretend that she didn’t know that.

Then again, she did pretend that she barely knew who Prince Harry was before dating him.

Meghan and Harry’s bombshell interview is the latest dramatic development within the monarchy, which has seen allegations of bullying made against Meghan, which her lawyers have denied.

Of course they have denied it. Meghan Markle is the Ellen Degeneres of The BRF.

If you are Meghan’s “equal” (e.g. an actor or celebrity) or “superior” (e.g. a producer), or if a camera is trained on her, she is lovely to you. However, if there are no cameras around, and she deems you to be her inferior, watch out!

Then again, we probably shouldn’t mention Ellen Degeneres. She really thought that she was going to be the one to land that Meghan Markle interview instead of Oprah. That is, until her staff revealed that “kind and compassionate” Ellen was really a raging bully to those who worked under her. Whoops. (See Her Rules Stink for all the details.)

Meghan Markle apparently treated her subordinates the same way. From The Sun:

MEGHAN MARKLE ‘FLEW INTO RAGE AT PA OVER THE COLOUR OF BLANKETS’ & LEFT ‘ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD ON THE VERGE OF QUITTING’

Meghan Markle reportedly flew into a rage at a PA because blankets were the “wrong shade of red” and her outbursts left her entire staff on the verge of quitting, insiders claimed last night.

It comes after claims the Duchess of Sussex bullied and humiliated aides at Kensington Palace – which she denies. Ahead of her bombshell interview with Oprah Winfrey, royal aides insisted they had bent over backwards to accommodate Meghan.

But according to a report in the Sunday Times, a former aide to one of the most senior members of the royal family claimed “half the staff threatened to quit” over tensions allegedly caused by the Sussexes.

If half your staff is threatening to quit, you’ve got a problem. And the problem probably isn’t your staff. The problem is probably you.

Another Palace source claimed: “The entire household was on the verge of quitting … it was drama, drama, drama with those two.”

Drama, drama, drama? From an actress? Gee, there’s a shocker.

The former aide said one incident that caused alarm occurred when Meghan hosted a shooting party at Sandringham for Harry’s friends, shortly after their engagement.

Wait a minute. Meghan Markle, the animal right advocate who bragged about her vegan leather pants, hosted a shooting party?

One where they shoot animals? Yikes.

Anyway, back to the blankets and the hissy fit.

She had ordered personally embroidered red blankets for each guest, but was not happy with what she received. “When they arrived, they weren’t the right shade of red for Meghan and she went mental at Melissa [Touabti],” the source said.

Drama, drama, drama!

Melissa was Meghan’s former personal assistant, who is alleged to have left “traumatised” because of Meghan’s volatile behaviour. Buckingham Palace is investigating allegations Meghan was an “outrageous bully” to her staff before she departed Britain last year.  

Meghan also reportedly took issue with the way in which the BBC’s Mishal Husain conducted she and Harry’s engagement interview. “She complained it hadn’t gone well, that Mishal [Husain] wasn’t empathetic enough, wasn’t warm enough,” said the source.

Remember, it’s everyone else’s fault. If your interview fails to make Meghan happy, you are a bad journalist.

It was further claimed Meghan had been given first choice from the Crown Jewels for her wedding – but that she had still been unhappy.

The insider claimed: “They insisted that they had the same inflation-adjusted budget for the wedding as William and Kate – she got the choir she wanted, the dress, the carriage procession, the tiara – she got everything she wanted but it still wasn’t enough.

“She was constantly looking for reasons to say she had been deprived.”

She’s a victim!

“Also, she wanted drama from the very beginning.”

Ten aides are now ready to testify against Meghan Markle. Ten. That tells you everything you need to know about how she treats the people “beneath” her.

Back to Stockholm Boy, a.k.a. Harry the Hostage.

He will be at the interview with Oprah. But Harry The Hostage is a mere background player now in a dramatic production called The Meghan Show. The Meghan Show is produced, written by, directed by and stars Meghan Markle.

Harry The Hostage’s friends and family can only watch as this drama plays out.

___________________________________________________________

Shut Down The Crisis - BLIND GOSSIP

January 20, 2020

The most important thing to keep in mind as you read this is the following: Both sides of this family are liars!

They lied about the siblings reconciling.

They had to put up a united front to fulfill a diplomatic obligation. However, they are definitely still estranged.

They lied about the women taking part in the conversation and talking to each other.

At no point were either wives involved in the meetings, nor did they speak to each other. In fact, [the wives] have not spoken in months.

They lied about seriously considering taking away titles.

There is a distinct hierarchy here within the family and it was quickly decided that absolutely no outsider could ever be allowed to disrupt that traditional structure for any reason. It would be unfathomable and degrading to require a former senior person to genuflect to an inferior.

They lied about wanting to lead a quieter life out of the media spotlight.

He acknowledges internally that his decision actually means that the media will be even more intrusive going forward. It is a trade-off for other goals, such as monetary gain.

They lied about considering taking away his house.

They eventually want to bring him back into the fold, even if that event is several years hence. They need to play the long game to make it easy for him to return. Permanently stripping him of everything would have had the opposite effect.

So, why are both sides lying?

There was a determination that the crisis needed to be shut down quickly. The only way the chaotic media feeding frenzy would stop is if the family pretended that all options were seriously considered; that all important matters were settled; and that all parties parted amicably. Many compromises had to be made in the name of expediency.

We’re not so sure those compromises were good ones.

While not all of them were optimal, the necessity to quiet the chaos and return to stability was paramount.

We might be giving them too much credit, but perhaps one side knew that causing extreme chaos would result in them getting more of what they wanted?

Perhaps. However, the family is confident that their decision to play the long game is the correct one.

We’ll see if that strategy pays off in the next few years!

___________________________________________________________

The Noisy Spotlight - BLIND GOSSIP

February 5, 2020

This couple claims to want a quiet, relaxing life. However, they sure are holding an awful lot of meetings about things that would purposefully propel them into the noisy spotlight!

Here is just one example.

It’s been meeting after meeting. They are doing a lot of strategizing. One debate right now is whether or not they should go to The Academy Awards. They absolutely COULD go if they wanted to go, but there is some discussion about whether or not they SHOULD go.

Arguments for attending The Oscars include a worldwide audience… and an opportunity to engage with all the most important people in the industry.

You know that they would love that big audience!

Our actress half of the couple has always dreamed of going to The Oscars. Since she is unlikely to get there based on her acting skills, this may be her big chance to go.

However, their appearance would grab the biggest headlines if it was a complete surprise. That means they would have to forego all those pre-event parties that are ideal for industry introductions and mingling if they wanted to avoid tipping off the media.

Arguments against attending The Oscars include not having a specific project to promote or support… and the logistics of arranging everything at the last minute.

Without a nominated person or project to support, their appearance would be seen as purely self-promotional. That could spur more public criticism, as well as potentially irritate those nominees on whom the spotlight should be shining that evening.

Of course, the logistics would be challenging given the size of their security staff. We do not know which way this will go.

She does have a dress ready, though!

Your friends at Blind Gossip were the first to let you know that Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s team was debating with the couple as to whether or not they should go to The Academy Awards.

Hello Magazine is now reporting that the couple was not only asked to attend the event… but to present the Best Picture Award as well!

Really?!

___________________________________________________________

She Floated Her Buyout Number - BLIND GOSSIP

February 14, 2020

We have a fascinating story to tell you about a famous couple!

This actress has caused so much controversy – and caused so many disruptions to the family into which she married – that it is sometimes difficult to figure out exactly what kind of game she is playing.

Allow us to tell you about one game she played that was so public – yet so sneaky – that we all missed it!

There was actually a point at which his family could have made her “go away” by paying her off.

When was that? What was she looking for?

During the negotiations. She would have accepted a very large amount of cash to walk away.

Here’s what happened. She had her people pass along her number to several outsiders. They, in turn, publicly stated the number as the “value” that they put on her brand. That was the amount of the buyout she was proposing!

That range was her ask. She would have liked the high end, but would have settled for the low end.

Why make that number so public? Why didn’t our actress just have her people negotiate directly with the family in private?

To have asked them for it directly – either verbally or in writing – would have presented serious legal issues. This way it looked like a simple and objective analysis done by outsiders.

Not to mention the fact that her husband would likely have discovered that she was willing to trade him for a very large, ransom-like payoff!

So the ask was made via some very public statements. How did his family react?

His family knew exactly what she was doing. They probably did debate the pros and cons of meeting her demands or making an alternative offer. However, in the end, they decided it was all so egregious that it was better to simply sever the relationship. They just hope that he will return someday.

Supposedly she was surprised that they did not make an offer, but not devastated. While she did not get exactly what she was wanted – which was a quick buyout – she will now set out to “earn” that money alongside her hapless and naive husband.

___________________________________________________________

WTF Branding - BLIND GOSSIP

February 18, 2020

In the most refined, educated, cultured, polished, and modern way, this celebrity couple reacted to a proposed change to their branding.

Their reaction was basically, “What the f*ck? What the actual f*ck?!”

So if you read something about how they have accepted the change, roll your eyes.

They have definitively NOT accepted this change. They are furious beyond belief!!! This will cost them millions of dollars. They have sunk a lot of money into two-word branding, websites, trademarks, logos, etc. They are asking their attorneys if they have legal standing to fight.

Their rationale for fighting?

The word [redacted] is already being used on towels, on liquor, and on soda brands! They think they should be able to use the word the way they want to.

Maybe. However, fighting the husband’s family on this could potentially make a bad situation even worse!

It is possible that if they even signal that they are going to fight for that one word, the family could withdraw permission for the second word as well.

Meaning… the couple could have certain titles taken away from them and have both words of the trademark challenged. Since the titles are pretty much all they have left, they might want to quit while they are behind. Better to settle for half than none?

Perhaps their time would be better spent coming up with a new brand. In between all that yoga, of course.

Did the family do the right thing? What should the couple do?

__________________________________________________________

She Will Have To Step Up Her Acting - BLIND GOSSIP

February 20, 2020

Speaking of performers who try to avoid embarrassing situations by claiming they are ill or injured, we have another one to tell you about!

For a variety of reasons, this married actress is extremely uncomfortable with the prospect of traveling to her husband’s hometown and seeing her husband’s family.

Her husband knows that she would rather simply skip all of this. However, people would definitely notice if one or both of them didn’t show up. They have to figure out as a couple which events are absolutely obligatory, which ones can be skipped, and what excuse they would use.

She refuses to come out of this looking like the evil one. They are reviewing their options.

Fortunately for them, if they choose to go with an excuse, there are so many excuse options from which to chose!

Prior obligation

Home emergency

Transportation problem

Family illness

Family injury

Baby

The dog ate my private jet ticket

They did use a baby excuse in the past to avoid his family, but no one bought it. Whatever they choose to do, she is really going to have to step up her acting on this one.

She will either have to go and pretend to be incredibly happy to be there… or convincingly sell whatever excuse they come up with!

Acting!

__________________________________________________________

The Popularity Contest - BLIND GOSSIP

March 11, 2020

This actress was the one who leaked to the media that her family member might be having an affair.

At the time we tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

After all, she was new to the family. Perhaps she didn’t understand that family secrets must not be shared with anyone outside the family?

In retrospect, we may have been a little naive.

We’ve since learned that she has always loathed her sister in law. It was like one big competition for her.

She hated how much everybody – ESPECIALLY her husband – liked [SIL]. She hated how popular [SIL] was and how everyone saw her marriage and children as being so perfect. She hated that she would always have to stand or sit or walk behind [SIL]. She even hated how fat she felt standing next to [SIL].

That’s a lot of hate.

If she knocked [SIL] down a few pegs, it would make her own popularity go up. That’s why she leaked the rumor about the affair. It didn’t matter if it was true or not. She wanted to embarrass [SIL]. It would have been even better if it had killed their “perfect” marriage and split up their “perfect” family.

Yikes. That is cold.

Even colder are the other tricks she apparently had in her back pocket.

There were discussions of leaking all sorts of other, nastier rumors (substance abuse, bad mother, eating disorder) about [SIL]. Didn’t matter if it was true or not. Anyway, the timing of the affair rumor was just too perfect to pass up!

So, now that the two couple are getting a lot more distance from each other, the nastiness should stop, right? Maybe not.

Actress managed to take another swipe at SIL as she was walking out the door. Cold.

__________________________________________________________

A Shocking Accident - BLIND GOSSIP

March 25, 2020

This actress is pretending to be all concerned about the health of her husband’s family members.

What a crock.

She mentioned this movie, [redacted], where the entire family was wiped out in a freak accident.

The freak accident was certainly shocking, and it allowed someone unexpected to ascend to power and take over the “family firm.” The main character went from being a nobody to being king of the hill.

The movie was a comedy that came out in the 1990s. It wasn’t particularly good, but we can see why she found it memorable after her luxurious wedding to one of the members of a prominent family.

She recently asked someone if they had seen it.

She was laughing about it and saying that it was one of her favorite movies.

Does she actually think that movie premise could become her reality? Is that the real reason she is telling her husband to physically stay away from his family?

__________________________________________________________

We Are Exceptional People - BLIND GOSSIP

March 30, 2020

Let’s say you have an Instagram account.

Let’s say you are also fortunate enough to have a lot of followers.

What happens if you have to move to a new Instagram account? Will Instagram move your followers to your new account?

The answer is “No.”

We stopped doing that a couple of years ago. Now we tell users to simply put a note on their old account instructing followers to follow them at their new account.

This married celebrity couple is in exactly that situation right now. They need boost their social media numbers as fast as possible to start making money. So they are not taking no for an answer!

We were contacted by their representative asking us to make an exception in their case. Their argument was that this was an exceptional couple in an exceptional circumstance and that it would be to Instagram’s benefit to do this.

We don’t know if Instagram will comply. But my, my, my! Someone is certainly full of me me me exceptionalism! Of course the couple will deny it.

In their new, “independent” lifestyle, they would never ask anyone else to fund them… or protect them… or make any kind of exception for them! What? All three? Never mind.

___________________________________________________________

Get That Oscar Ready - BLIND GOSSIP

April 8, 2020

This actress is not about to let anyone or anything slow down her ambition!

While it looked like she had given up acting for a completely different life just a couple of years ago, she has suddenly and completely reversed course.

She is not only moving back to acting… but has set her sights at the very top of the profession!

She is determined to win an Oscar for Lead Actress. Not just get nominated. WIN.

This is the first time we’ve heard that. Given that she is in her late thirties and has never even had a leading role in any significant production, is this realistic?

Absolutely! She has always known that she is more talented than most actresses out there. The only reason she didn’t score bigger roles in the past was because there were significant racist barriers. Now that she is more high profile, there are fewer barriers and she is going to go for it.

So she thinks she is talented enough to carry a film and win an Academy Award?

She has always had the TALENT. Now she finally has the OPPORTUNITY.  She just needs to find the right role and the right director.

My, my, my. Our actress certainly is confident! What about her all of her other commitments (husband/children/charities)?

She is very smart and energetic and can do it all. And whatever she wants, her husband is happy to support her 100%.

Of course he is. The #2 role is one to which he is well accustomed. Get that Oscar ready!

__________________________________________________________

Happy Birthday To Me - BLIND GOSSIP

April 22, 2020

For a couple that claims to want privacy, they sure have a knack for drawing attention to themselves on a regular basis.

It is always amusing to watch this couple take any subject…  and make it all about them!

Something as simple as wishing someone a Happy Birthday actually becomes a device to draw attention to themselves and show how important they are.

Not everyone is amused, though!

The family is gobsmacked that they would make this about them. Before the call was set up, it was explained to them quite clearly that the only appropriate public statement would be to wish [The Birthday Girl] well on her day. That they chose to completely violate that agreement is both stunning and infuriating. Every member of the family is appalled.

Yikes.

It seems that by attempting to prove how “in” they are… they managed to push themselves “out” even more!

We don’t know if our actress and her jobless husband thought they were being defiant or smart, but this is certainly not the first time that something like this has happened.

We recall a time last year when the wife was given very specific guidance on the dress code and behavior for a major event… chose to do exactly the opposite… was criticized for it… and then complained to her husband and friends about how no one in the family was helping her.

Does she think she is smarter than everyone?

Why did she lie about what happened?

Was she trying to play the victim?

Was she setting up the “us” versus “them” narrative to force her husband to choose sides?

Why does she chronically leak to the media and then claim she had nothing to do with it?

Whatever her motivations, her husband certainly seems to be on board with it.

They are definitely a team when it comes to pursuing publicity while simultaneously demanding privacy. 

It’s all quite puzzling. And outrageous. And endlessly amusing.

___________________________________________________________

Her Circle Of Friends May Not Hold - BLIND GOSSIP

May 1, 2020

This actress is swearing that she had nothing to do with some of her friends going to the press to spin her story.

Really?

No one, and I mean NO ONE, who is close to her goes to the press without 1. her explicit permission and 2. her explicit instructions.

Some friends – including some celebrities who suddenly became her friend right after she got together with that unemployed rich man – simply stopped talking about her. However, others were eager to prove their loyalty.

To claim that multiple friends went independently to the press to tell the exact same story, and that she had no idea or involvement in their actions  and that every person acted independently, is patently false and ridiculous.

Allegedly, there were multiple discussions to make sure their messaging was consistent. Keep in mind that this situation was not a matter of life and death. This was a dumb exercise in vanity and power. Given that, will all of her friends be willing to go to the legal mattresses for her?

Some of them, yes, because they want to stay in her good graces. There is one, though, who is very scared. She doesn’t want to be cut out of the circle of friends, but she also doesn’t want to hurt her own reputation or face charges by lying in a deposition or on the stand.

This is definitely not working out the way actress thought it would.

___________________________________________________________

The Switcheroo - BLIND GOSSIP

May 19, 2020

Some people think that this actress and her high-profile husband planned their current living situation from the beginning.

Well, we have some insight into how all of this actually went down!

Basically the plan started out as one thing… but was twisted into something very, very different over the course of less than two years.

The reason he proposed so fast was because he finally found someone who wanted exactly the same life that he wanted.

When did this revelation occur?

When they were on holiday in [A]. He told her that he did not want the highly scheduled and ceremonial life that was expected of him in [Country E]. 

What did he want?

He told her that what he really wanted was to continue the work of his mother. He wanted a life where he could spend part of the year in [E] and part of the year in [A] because that is where he felt the most happy and relaxed and could do the most good.

Well, he has always loved A. What was her reaction?

She told him that after spending time in [A] with him, she had grown to love it as much as he did. She said it would be a dream for her to give up her career and move to [A] with him and spend their lives together in [A] and then come back to [E] to be with his friends and family.

He believed her?

Absolutely! None of his past girlfriends wanted to move to [A]. He was chuffed to have finally found someone who understood him and wanted exactly the same life. She was perfect.

So he proposed and they got married and had a baby. However, the plan evaporated. They never moved to A. And they left E.

What happened?

She told him that she still loved [A] but she had a lot of health and safety concerns about raising their child there. She also told him that his family in [E] made her very uncomfortable and that she feared their child would also be made to feel unwelcome and uncomfortable in that environment. She cried. He found that very distressing. He felt like she had sacrificed so much to be with him.

Which of them came up with the plan to move to C and then U?

I don’t know. He got into several rows with his family and his friends, made all sorts of ridiculous accusations, and then stopped communicating.

Let’s recap.

Our TV Actress told him she wanted to give up her career… move to A and E with him… fully embrace his family and friends… and spend their days doing charity work.

Instead, they moved to C and U… ditched his family and friends… revived her career… and are now involved in all sorts of money-making schemes.

Huh. That is the exact OPPOSITE of the agreed-upon plan!

Did she change her mind after they were married? Or did she plan to pull this little switcheroo from the beginning?

She couldn’t be that cruel. Or selfish. Or manipulative. Could she?

____________________________________________________________

I Am A Triple Threat - BLIND GOSSIP

May 26, 2020

You already know that this attractive woman was on a TV show.

That is what gave her the celebrity to advance her station in life via marriage to a man in a famous family.

What you don’t know is the extent of her career goals. While she said she would give up acting to create a different life with her latest husband, that promise did not last long.

She changed her mind.

Some might say that she never really planned to give up acting. Some might say that her best acting she ever did was in the role of a dutiful partner who was willing to give up her former life for his life. Why? Because that role was more likely to land her that ring and that big wedding and that rich, famous husband.

Who knows?

In any case, she has now publicly declared her intent to return to acting.

However, you didn’t think that she was planning back to a TV gig on the same level as her last acting job, did you? Ha!

She is more famous now. Not any more talented. But definitely much more famous.

It isn’t just that she is demanding movies instead of TV, or that she will only work with esteemed directors worthy of her presence. There’s more.

[She and her husband] have been spending a lot of time with [a talented couple] for a very specific reason.

That reason?

[The Talented Couple is] very plugged into Broadway. [Actress] sees herself not just as an actor but a singer and dancer as well. Her dream is to score a role that would normally go to an established triple threat. Her plan is for [The Talented Couple] to coach her and make the intros. She thinks that the lead in a Broadway musical and/or the lead in a movie musical would establish her as a star.

My, my, my. That is certainly a big goal! We have seen her act, but we have never seen her sing or dance in anything.

Wait a minute. Can she sing? Can she dance?

She can carry a tune. She took dance classes.

Whew! That’s a relief. We were a little concerned that an almost-40 actress who has never had a lead acting role in a major movie or even a TV show could pull this off. However, we can now see the error of our ways. If anything, our actress is over qualified for such a role.

But wait! There’s more!

She thinks that with the right roles, she could EGOT. [Her husband] is totally supportive.

We can see it now: Our triple threat actress… practicing in front of one of the many mirrors in her palatial home… giving her hapless husband and their crying child the hand… declaring, “Don’t bother me! I’m EGOTTING!”

If her husband is truly supportive, he should actually do something productive. Perhaps he could approach people at Hollywood parties and say, “Did you know that my wife is a triple threat? You should give her the lead role in your next musical!” That would definitely help. Everyone from Baz Luhrmann to Andrew Lloyd Webber would be eternally grateful.

And if she believes it and he supports it, our Actress should get what she wants, right? In fact, someone should start printing up the name plates for that Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony right now.

___________________________________________________________

Alarming Around The Children - BLIND GOSSIP

June 2, 2020

Of all the family members that this actress could be targeting with her anger, she seems to have chosen a certain female relative.

Want to know why? Of course you do!

The popular version is has to do with some sort of spat before a family event. In fact, that event was not the catalyst.

You actually have to go back a couple of years for this one.

It was one of the very first times the actress was brought into contact with her future brother-in-law, his wife, and their children.

Actress was on her best behavior, and was trying to impress her future BIL and SIL with how much she enjoyed meeting their family and spending time with them.

It was a casual event. The children were running around being noisy and playful.

At one point, Actress excused herself to another room to make a phone call.

She somehow wound up alone with one of the children.

Perhaps the child simply ran into the room looking for her? Whatever the case, what happened next was the catalyst.

The Actress snapped a couple of quick photos of the child.

Perhaps it was innocent. Perhaps not.

When [SIL] found out, though, she was alarmed. They had just met [Actress] and she could not believe that [Actress] would try to photograph [Child] without parental consent in the few seconds that they were alone.

Actress tried to pass it off as some sort of innocent, spur-of-the-moment decision, but SIL never trusted her again after that.

What else had Actress done?

Had she secretly photographed or recorded them? The children? The house? Other members of the family?

That meetup did not bring them together as family. If anything, it created distrust and a desire to keep a safe distance from Actress.

It may have also been one of the reasons BIL suggested to his brother that he should slow down the relationship.

Perhaps that was when Actress decided that SIL was her enemy.

Perhaps that is why Actress leaks stories to the media to try to portray SIL as a less-than-perfect mother and person. Someone who is privileged and cold and unwelcoming. Perhaps even… unaccepting of her race?

Actress has been playing the victim for a while now, so we should not be surprised at any accusation she might make.

So, what was Actress planning to do with those photos?

That’s a good question.

We did find out later that Actress actually kept a diary of all family interactions. Perhaps those “innocent” photos, taken in secret, were meant to be part of that comprehensive chronicle.

We’ll see.

___________________________________________________________

I Have A Speech - BLIND GOSSIP

June 9, 2020

 In these days where everything feels overwhelming and upside down, we can sometimes take comfort in the words of great thinkers and great leaders.

This TV actress made a speech designed to empower young people.

Her heartfelt words will linger on in our minds as the perfect example of how she is the definitive shining beacon of truth and unity in these troubled times.

So, whose inspirational words did she choose to bring us all together?

Abraham Lincoln? Mahatma Gandhi? Martin Luther King Jr.?

Actually, she did not mention the source of the sound bite that made headlines the following day, so they must have been her own brilliant thoughts, right? Nah.

They came from a script.

An episode of Grey’s Anatomy, to be precise. No, we are not kidding.

Hey, she’s an actress! It’s all scripts and rehearsals for her. If you thought otherwise, you might be a little naive. Sort of like her husband.

___________________________________________________________

Nice House And Fake Tears - BLIND GOSSIP

June 30, 2020

This pretty actress married a rich guy.

She will never have to worry about having a nice house to live in or having enough food to eat.

Good for her. Life should be very happy for her! Except… there appears to be something missing. A key emotion.

She does not cry.

What do you mean? Everyone cries at some point.

She can cry for a scene. If she is trying to portray sadness, she can wrinkle up her face and change her breathing and clasp her mouth or her chest. She can do the facial expressions and the hand gestures and the sounds. But it has to be rehearsed so that she does things in a specific order and so that her eyes actually tear up on cue.

Well, she is an actress, so it makes sense that she would have to rehearse.

But she told us that she does not cry in real life! If she has to do it, like to express sympathy or to make someone feel sorry for her, she said she has to play it like a scene in order to produce tears. She fakes it. She was almost bragging about it.

Perhaps her life is just very happy and she is never sad?

No, she actually gets upset a lot. But when she gets upset, she gets angry and mean, not sad. It’s like she can pretend to be sympathetic or be sad but there’s no real sympathy or sadness. She can act those emotions but she does not feel them. There is something very cold about her.

Do you think her husband knows this?

I don’t think he has a clue.

Well, he is fairly hapless, so that is not surprising.

We can’t recall specific instances of our actress acting sad or sympathetic in real life, but we will certainly look out for it in the future to see if we can detect any falseness in her emoting.

__________________________________________________________

Doggy Dilemma - BLIND GOSSIP

July 20, 2020

While many celebrities are cautious about discussing their children or posting their photos for privacy reasons, this TV actress is the only one we know who has chosen to be selectively mysterious when it comes to her pets.

At first, she seemed quite genuine in her love of her pets and featured them prominently on social media. The narrative – Aren’t I a good person for rescuing these animals? – was a bit trying but acceptable.

Then she started dating another celebrity. Her pets, whom she had once considered her children, became mysteries. 

Why was one pet missing? How did another one get seriously injured? Why didn’t she want anyone to know the name of the third pet? It was… odd.

Then there was the lie about the dog she left behind.

You now know the truth. But do you know why she lied about it? Here you go!

Her relationship with [Man] was the most important thing and she wanted it to look perfect. Telling the truth that he didn’t like the dog and that the dog didn’t like him wouldn’t fit that narrative. She couldn’t make him look like the bad guy and she couldn’t make herself look like a bad person who abandoned her pet. So she had to blame something else.

We hear that she actually considered several lies before settling on one!

She considered a couple different stories. One was to tell people that the dog was terminally ill and that’s why it couldn’t travel.

Why didn’t she use that lie?

It would have gotten some sympathy, but then she would have had to either put the dog down or take it back when the dog miraculously “recovered.”

Did she know that her lie didn’t make sense?

She knew it was lame but it was the best she could come came up with. She had bigger things to worry about, like locking him down.

Locking him down?

Getting him to propose/getting married. She wanted to create the perfect environment for their life together. The dog didn’t fit.

So, why did she eventually take the dog back?

Because people were questioning why she didn’t have the dog back since her original excuse didn’t apply any more. However, the situation was exactly the same the second time and [He] didn’t want the dog around so the dog had to go again. She couldn’t tell the same lie twice.

Look, her dog lie is not the biggest lie in the world.

However, it does make you wonder.

What else she has lied about to get in/stay in the relationship?

And what else has she lied about to create that “perfect” narrative?

___________________________________________________________

Three Moves - BLIND GOSSIP

August 7, 2020

Did you think that this famous married couple would quiet down?

After all, neither one has a job, their plans to make a huge amount of money this year have fallen apart, and they have alienated most of their friends and family.

Certainly they should be spending their time reflecting on their mistakes… reassessing their approach… and getting their act together. Right? Wrong!

They are being just as noisy and hypocritical as ever!

Although it seems like all they are doing right now is lecturing other people on how to live and how to behave, we hear that there is a lot more going on behind the scenes.

In fact, our actress is actually considering three big moves right now!

First,

She has tossed her hat in the ring to replace [that TV talk show host who is going through some turmoil].

We don’t know what her goal is here.

Since her acting has never produced any substantial awards, is she seeing this as her ticket to an Emmy? Is she interested in the big payday that a successful, long-running talk show would produce? Does she think that a talk show will provide her with a forum for her wokeness? Does she see herself as the next Oprah?

Second,

She expressed interest in speaking at the Democratic National Committee Convention.

We don’t know what her goal is here, either.

Her husband is supposed to be apolitical. Is this her way of severing any lingering ties he might still have to his family? Is she trying to ingratiate herself and her husband with the Bidens and the Clintons and the Obamas? Will they be actively campaigning for Joe Biden? Is she positioning herself for a future political run?

Third, she is talking about the couple attending some sort of public sporting or political event for the ultimate publicity stunt. 

She knows that if they “take a knee” during The Star Spangled Banner, that would be the cover photo of every single newspaper, magazine, and website in the world.

We don’t know if any of these things will actually happen.

We are just fascinated by her constant machinations in some weirdly undefined and constantly shifting game. We are also baffled as to what her husband’s role is in any of this.

So their moves could be smart and deliberate. Or they could be stupid and desperate.

___________________________________________________________

Baby Needs To Start Earning - BLIND GOSSIP

August 27, 2020

While this actress continues to put herself in the headlines on a regular basis, have you noticed that something has been missing for the past few months?

Her baby.

While she continuously pleads for privacy and talks about safety… it turns out those are not the primary reasons you haven’t seen her and her husband’s child!

She believes that any appearance of the baby has significant value. She has been trying for months to strike a deal for a cover story for $2M+, but nobody has been willing to pay that.

This is very frustrating for them. It used to be the family disapproval that stopped them from using the baby to make money, but that is not the problem anymore. Now it’s the economy.

It’s so sad that no one will pay them what they want. What they want, they should get!

If she can’t get that deal done, she will find another use for the baby. One thought is a new photo/video to draw millions of followers when they launch their new social media site. Another is to do a staged appearance in conjunction with one of their projects.

Which project? Who knows!

Actress and Hubby have been jumping on and off so many bandwagons over the past few months that it’s getting a little hard to keep track of it all.

Their original plans went out the window, so at this point it’s just a series of weirdly random appearances accompanied by a lot of word salad.

In any case, $2M is a big ask.

Perhaps they are justifying that price by saying it will be donated to charity?

Perhaps to one of their own “charities”?

Hey, they need to start pulling in some money any way they can. Mansions don’t pay for themselves, you know, and neither of them has a real job.

Baby needs to start earning!

__________________________________________________________

The Spotlight Stealer - BLIND GOSSIP

October 9, 2020

There is a reason that most women would not even think of wearing white to a wedding in which they were not the bride.

It’s the bride’s day and she should be the center of attention. She should be the only one dressed in white.

It would be considered extremely narcissistic and ill-mannered to steal the bride’s spotlight by wearing a competing white outfit.

Women also seem to know that when a friend or relative shares an accomplishment or a reason for celebration, your role is to support them, not compete with them.

To make yourself the center of attention would be both selfish and in incredibly bad taste.

Most women understand these rules implicitly.

There is one TV actress, however, who does not seem to think that the rules applies to her!

When another celebrity recently celebrated a major life event, our actress deliberately did two things.

First,

She is the one who arranged for the paparazzi to be there as she was arriving.

So it was more than a lucky coincidence that a photographer was lying in wait for her at a restaurant that is not even located in Los Angeles.

She knew that her picture would get more coverage the next day than [her friend’s] photo.

My, how thoughtful of her.

Second,

She deliberately dressed in a way that would cause people to speculate about her own condition.

You know, for someone who claims to be so private and so supportive, she certainly does have a talent for making everything about her!

It’s all about her. Every occasion. Every time.

We’re starting to see that pattern emerge. In this case, it sounds like our actress played the part of a supportive background player… but her real goal was to bring attention to herself.

She succeeded, too.

___________________________________________________________

Famous Son Got Very Rough - BLIND GOSSIP

October 26, 2020

This blind item involves a famous guy from a prominent family. He’s been in the news a lot lately.

We have a story to tell you that may impact what you think of him.

Years ago, when he was in the military, he used to go off-base with his buddies when they had a night off.

Although they regularly drank to excess, it was not his alcohol consumption that caused the local police to intervene in his bad behavior.

You see, our boy used to hire local workers to service his needs. His carnal needs. Those sessions inevitably got…. rough.

He was very physically rough. So rough that the frightened s*x workers had to call the police. Granted, these were s*x workers, and traditionally not the most reliable witnesses, but this happened multiple times and their stories were very consistent.

What stories did they tell?

They all described him being drunk and how his conduct always turned violent: punching, slapping, choking, hair pulling, etc. It was violent enough that the girls thought that he would permanently hurt them. They were genuinely frightened of him.

How did the local police handle it?

Normally, when something like this happens off-base, the offender would be arrested and then the local police and the military would determine whose jurisdiction it fell under. Then the case would work its way through either the civilian judicial system or the military judicial system.

Is that what happened here?

No! Because of his family, none of that ever happened. The girls would be treated for their injuries and he would just get sent back to base. No arrests, no attorneys, nothing. He was strictly off-limits and neither judicial system would pursue the case.

How often did this happen?

Because he was never really punished, he got away with it multiple times. At first, every girl wanted to service him because of who he was but eventually word got around that he would hurt you. It’s a small community of s*x workers around the base and after this happened a few times, none of the girls would take his business, so it stopped.

Remember when he used to be the fun, partying, likable member of his family? Those days are long gone.

He is now a husband and a father and is seriously consumed with making money by getting involved in a variety of business deals.

Since he is so busy, perhaps his wife could take the time to write some uplifting notes to the girls he beat up?

__________________________________________________________

We Told You About Money Baby - BLIND GOSSIP

December 23, 2020

Are you disappointed that a photo of the baby is the one Christmas gift you are not going to find underneath the tree this year?

Are you surprised that you haven’t seen the baby much in the past year? You shouldn’t be.

Your friends at Blind Gossip told you point blank over the summer that you are NOT going to see that baby again until it can be monetized in some way!

Perhaps it will be a photo to lure followers to a new web site or social media site.

Perhaps it will be a video to promote a project.

Perhaps it will be cover for a media company in exchange for a very large payment.

But show you that baby for free? Ha!

And do you still think that this is about privacy? Ha again!

The hiding of their offspring has nothing to do with privacy… and everything to do with money and publicity. That baby’s image has value. You are not getting it for free.

That’s because all three of them are now part of the entertainment industry. Their names, their titles, their family are now part of a money-making machine. The name of the game is business deals and product flogging and relentless publicity-seeking fronted by the thinnest veneer of charity.

Is this really what the husband signed up for?

Remember all his heart-wrenching talk about how camera clicks and flashes are horrifying to him and how he just wants to lead a private life?

Yet, his entire life is now clicks and flashes and the relentless pursuit of publicity!

The baby doesn’t have a choice. But the husband does. That’s what makes all of this so disturbing.

Is this really what the husband wanted? Is he happy about all this? Or is he just an unwitting dupe in his wife’s schemes?

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain

A/n finally writing that Kaz Brekker x reader angsty-fluff where the reader is all sunshine-y and Kaz is dramatic as always lol 

Might make this a blurb series bc i like this dynamic so much lol

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y reader 

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Kaz has a conversation with the reader (who’s a runaway princess) about what happens to people who stay near him. 

-- 

He once said that he didn’t believe in Saints. A moment later he conceded that perhaps they existed in order to appease Inej, but he was quick to tact on that if Saints existed they didn’t care about him. Inej and I had exchanged a look, she pleaded with me in silence to let him be. I opened my mouth despite the look in her eyes, but he had walked away before I could get any words out. 

He believes that the Saints don’t care about him, but as soon as he was dragged in by Jesper, bleeding and more broken than usual, it had started to rain. The rain is a promise. The rain is a sign that he will wake up. 

I tap a finger against the forgotten book on my lap, ignoring the dried blood I’ve been too anxious to wash off. When Kaz wakes up he’ll either scold me or partially tease me for waiting here by his bedside. The rain continues, cascading down invisible hope. 

“Save your prayers, even for you the Saints won’t regard me.” Kaz. His voice is raspier than it should be and his slight condescension is blighted by the tired flatness of it. But it’s him. He’s speaking. 

I tear my gaze away from the window, almost forgetting to tamper down my relief before finally looking at him. I haven’t known him long enough to see him in any level of defeat, but I’ve heard enough stories. The fictional exaggeration of those that fear him have made him seem so immortal. Some part of me must have internalized that because to see him like this, to see him so human is too intimate. 

“Don’t be so narcissistic.” Something about Kaz always leaves me feeling challenged, like each comment is some kind of dare. I adjust my posture. “I wasn���t praying because I knew you’d be okay.” 

His expression is unchanging. “So much faith in me?” 

There’s a soft edge to his words, an attempt to twist some kind of awkward denial out of me. Some days I don’t think Kaz enjoys anything and then other days I think he enjoys any misstep in my words. 

I shrug, pushing down the flood of relief still attempting to crawl out of my chest. “You’re always okay.” I scratch the back of my wrist idly. “It seems the safe bet.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been taking gambling advice from Jesper.” 

I half roll my eyes. “No--Jesper and I don’t play together anymore.” I let out an easy sigh. “Last time I beat him he bordered on a hissy fit.” There’s the slightest hint of upturning at the corners of his lips. “I should go tell Jesper and Inej you’re awake.” 

“I think you should change out of that dress first.”

He was more likable when I thought he might die at any second. “Wow--Kaz Brekker the professional stylist.” He has no right to judge the formal gown I’m in. Yes, my outfit is ridiculous, but I’m only wearing it because the Crows needed someone they knew at a merchant’s party for a part of some scheme they wouldn’t share the details of with me. “Yes, I’m aware that this dress is more tulle than anything else, but I’m only wearing it because I was helping you.” 

I wait for some retort about how he could have managed without my assistance or some kind of comment about how I didn’t need such a large dress to flirt and distract the guards as the Crows snuck into the merchant’s private office. “You fit in there more than you said you would.” 

From anyone else, I’d consider this an insult. “I was making an effort for the sake of your plans.” 

“I saw you before I went into the office, you knew the dances, the man took your hand.” 

That’s the weirdest observation I’ve ever witnessed someone reflect on. “That’s how those dances tend to work.” I don’t hide the confusion in my expression. “How much blood did you lose?” 

Kaz’s piercing gaze drops to the blanket on his lap. “Not a concerning amount.”

“Why do I feel like we have different definitions of ‘concerning’?” 

His eyes flit upwards, a partial smirk playing at his lips. “We define a lot of things differently.” He pauses, “You defined the life you slipped into so easily tonight as something you could never do.” 

“I can’t.” What is his problem? “One dance is different than an eternity of planning teas and marrying some man who only keeps me so I can rear his children.” 

“You’d end up marrying someone who could give you things.”

He better not be implying I should be having children. I’m seriously starting to hope he did lose a significant amount of blood because that would be some kind of explanation. “I don’t want anyone to be giving me children right now, but I guess your concern is ni--”

“No, no,” he screws his eyes shut for a long second, “You know what I meant.” I stay silent. “You’re technically a princess, y/n, you could have more than the Barrel.” There’s an odd silence as he pauses. “Someone like you should have more than the Barrel.” 

He speaks like his word is law. That’s the one habit of his I can never seem to forgive. Is Kaz telling me to go home? To go back to a mother who dreams of marrying me off and a father with a temper that often leads to violence? He may be Dirtyhands, but he is no one to tell me who to go back to. Not after I risked my anonymity to get him into that merchant’s office. 

I shut my book and stand in one swift motion. “I’m going to tell Jesper and Inej that you’re awake.”

“Y/n.” I ignore him. “Y/n.” Again, I ignore him, approaching the doorway. The rustling of sheets leaves me frozen, hand on the doorknob. “Y/n.” 

Without thinking, I turn on my heels while glaring. There’s no way he’s proud enough to have climbed out of bed wi--and he’s standing. Standing almost directly behind me. 

“Kaz Brekker, I am going to say this one time and one time only.” I keep my words measured and my tone flat. No room for argument. “You just had nine stitches put in near your heart, get your ass back in bed before that is no longer your only injury.” 

He pauses, lips pressed together into a tight white line. And then his mouth opens, pried open by an oddly light sound. Did he just--Did Kaz Brekker just laugh? He doesn’t laugh. I didn’t think he was physically capable, and now he laughs while I’m threatening him? I should hit him on principle alone and damn the consequences. 

“Did you--” I’m gaping at him with a rage I am not accustomed to. “Did you just laugh?” 

Kaz is quick to shut his mouth. “You did swear you’d get me to laugh one day.” 

Saints--now he chooses to have some kind of sense of humor. “Not while I was threatening you for being an idiot after saying my lineage means that I’m meant to be trapped in the life I desire least.” 

“I didn’t say that.” I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve more than this because of your family, you deserve more than this because--” He cuts himself off with a sharp sigh. “Do you remember what happened the day we met?” 

He had wanted to return me to my father for the money. I had managed to convince him I could be more useful working for him without profit. The first day had been tense, I had sworn to myself that I would hate him forever. 

“I remember really hating you.” I remember thinking him beautiful despite his darkness. “I remember it started raining on our way here.” 

“You had a hood, but you pushed it off your head to feel the rain.” I don’t remember that because indulging in the rain is instinctual to me. “You looked at the rain, and you smiled--and then you saw a woman with a child and you took off your hood and gave it to them.” 

“What does that have to d--” 

“Watching that felt like intruding on an intimate moment I had no business knowing about, but it wasn’t that to you. That moment was nothing to you because that moment was who you are.” 

I don’t understand what he sees in something I can barely remember. “Kaz, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“I’m the monster that children believe live under their beds, I’m the bastard of the Barrel, I’m someone who gets blood on everything near them.” His gaze is harsher than I’ve ever seen it as he focuses on the dried blood splotched across my hands and arms. “And then I can’t even help you wash it off.” 

Those last words are the closest to broken I’ve ever heard him sound. “Kaz--”

“And you’re the girl who looks at the rain like it’s a gift from the Saints.” 

Is he implying what I think he’s implying? Even if I believed him such a source of evil, even if I felt like touch mattered that much--why would he care? I keep the much more frightening implication at bay as I exhale. Clarity will only make this conversation worse. “That doesn’t matter.” The words leave me in a low whisper. 

I stare at the ground until his silence is something I can no longer bear. Looking up as cautiously as possible, I take in his expression. I’ve never seen him look so--so enraged. “It doesn’t matter?!” He doesn’t bother hiding the fact that he’s practically seething. “I’ve viewed your presence here as temporary since you first came and despite that, when I saw you there…” The breath he lets out is practically pained. “When I saw what your life is meant to be--I didn’t want you to go.” 

The admission breaks something hard in my chest. “I never wanted to go.” My eyeline drops to the ground. “I didn’t want to go when you were trying to make me, I didn’t want to go when it was only for that evening.” I swallow a lump of emotion restricting my throat. “When you were bleeding out and Jesper had to carry you back here I let myself imagine what it’d be like if you died. And it hurt. It hurt so badly I asked myself if I would rather never know you than feel that pain.” 

“Would you?” His voice has gone hollow. 

I finally look up again. “No.” That word leaves me more bare than any physical touch ever could. 

“I stain everything that stays with me,” his voice has seamlessly shifted back to a tone meant for business, “Me wanting you to stay is more than enough reason for you to leave.”

My chest aches as emotions I’ll never be able to place a name to pound against my chest. “I’m a princess that ran away from her family and tried to befriend her kidnapper--you can’t possibly be narcissistic enough to believe that you’re what’s corrupted me.” 

“Y/n,” his voice is gravely again, the way it was when he first woke up. 

“No. What could you possibly think I’d say to that?” He’s insane--I’m not even sure I understand what he’s implying. “You know I’ll never agree with what you’re saying, so I have no idea what kind of reaction you’re looking for.”

“Maybe a genuine one.” 

The comment is so frustrating I can’t help but roll my eyes. The irony of Kaz Brekker asking for a genuine reaction to an emotionally heavy comment is almost laughable. “My genuine reaction is that you’re acting like an idiot because I don’t agree with anything you’re saying, but calling someone an idiot after they’ve been stabbed in the chest is a little insensitive so I can’t give you my genuine reaction.”

Kaz half-scoffs, “You don’t agree? Y/n--are you hearing me!? I want--I want you to stay.” Even angry, the admission warms me. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “More than that I want--” 

“What?” 

He shakes his head once. “I want something that can never be because I can’t give what needs to be given to get it.” 

“Kaz, if it involves me staying you don’t need to give anything for that because I don’t want to go.” 

“I-want-you-to-stay-with-me.” The admission is pried from him by some invisible force. He speaks so fiercely the sentence comes out as one angry word. 

He speaks so quickly a part of me is convinced that I misheard him. I watch him as he moves back to the bed, sitting down in a way so resigned I wonder if I blurted something out on instinct. 

“Kaz,” this is embarrassing, “I wanted to stay with you even when I wanted to hate you.”

I take in his measured expression, the only thing implying any kind of reaction is the way his eyebrows draw together. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand what that means.” 

“Why? Because you’re convinced you’ll ruin me?” 

“Y/n, we’d be together with a wall between us, keeping us from ever touching.” 

“I will tolerate any amount of damage you’re so convinced staying with you will bring, I will stay with you and never touch you and think nothing of it--but I will not stay with you just to stand in front of a wall.” I let out a tired breath. “I will stay with you but my one condition will be that you have to let me know you.” 

Kaz’s intense gaze wavers. “The first thing you’ll know is that me allowing you to stay is a testament to my greed.” 

I give him a sharp look, “It’s not greed if I want to be here.” 

He half sighs, leaning against a pillow as he turns to look out the window. “It’s raining,” he muses, “The Saints must have done that for you.” 

The sentiment is so soft my heart feels like it’s constricting. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Saints.” 

“If they exist, they do so for people like you.” 

I push past the emotion in my chest as I move to sit in the same chair I was in earlier. “I was honest when I said I didn’t pray for you.” I scratch the back of my arm, a coldness passing over me. “I didn’t pray because I knew you would be okay because you had to be.” 

“They wouldn’t have saved me,” he mumbles, “Or maybe they would have for you.” 

I shake my head once, staring at the rain with more fascination than before. 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

[smilesbag]

so i wanna talk about the 302 leaks

this week has been pretty tragic, with the whole todoroki family reflecting and picking and choosing who to blame for where touya went wrong.

it makes me sick to think of the guilt that this family must carry (other than Endeavor, who is entirely deserving of it.) Natsuo, like he usually does, represents a bitter, spiteful perspective- one that is furious over the loss and mistreatment of his oldest brother. He blames Endeavor for everything that happened, but can't help implicating himself in the story.

Rei tries to play the mediator, saying that they all deserved a piece of the blame for Touya's descent. I personally think this is a pretty messed up take, as he was being neglected and abused by his parents, and the burden of comforting him should not have fallen onto his younger siblings shoulders, it was his parents duty to keep him safe in the first place.

and of course I can't entirely blame Rei, who was trying to survive her own abuse at the time, doing her best to raise Touya and the others without suffering Endeavors cruelty, but to say that each of them played a role in his abuse after her son thinks himself to be guilty is so upsetting to me,

because Natsuo was only a child.

He was too young to understand the nuances of their situation, and it made Touya angry that his little brother didn't understand him or the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father.

Touya was alone. isolated from Shoto, his youngest brother and the only person who might have understood what he had gone through, a child who Touya knew was about to endure the same physical and psychological abuse he had suffered for years.

and poor Touya, he always tried his best. constantly tearing his own body apart just so his father, the man who he looked up to and wanted more than anything to make happy, 'could finally say he was glad Touya was born.' it breaks my heart.

and awful thing is that they all blame Touya too. of course it was wrong of him to do all of the horrible things he has done, but the bottom line is he is still that same neglected, unhappy child, desperate to prove to his father that he is finally worth something. and if he's learned anything at this point, it's how to get his father's attention.

and poor shoto.

always the one who has to bear his families shame, who has to repair relations with his mother, try to forgive his father, and now he has to do the unthinkable- take down his brother, a monster created by his own father's hand.

and it just infuriates me that this child, this 15 year old kid, who has just been beaten down by a man who should have been his brother, who he should have memories with and should have called a friend, a man who suffered so much abuse only to be thrown away, this kid now has to defeat him. he shouldn't have to wipe away his tears and stand up, he shouldn't have to fight his own brother who is so similar to him, while Endeavor sits in bed and weeps for the fruit of the rotten seeds he has sown.

and the heroes smile. they watch the children that they are supposed to be protecting dust themselve's off after a life changing battle, and just like that they're ready to send them back into the fray. it sucks. it hurts. hero society does not care that they're children, they only care that they've been bred to be soldiers, willing to sacrifice their own bright, beautiful futures at the young age of 15.

so i just hate it. i hate how much pain this family endures. i hate that Touya cannot be redeemed. i hate that Natsuo and Fuyumi feel so much guilt. i hate that Shoto is going to have to be the one to put an end to the hurt. and i hate that Endeavor gets to watch, useless and regretful, merely an observer in the war which he started. i hate it all.

[fandom-monium]

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be? 

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows. 

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous. 

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about? 

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all. 

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.” 

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are. 

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal. 

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that. 

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed? 

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh. 

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door. 

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug. 

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now? 

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name." 

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

 "You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions. 

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you. 

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting. 

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you? 

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare. 

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile. 

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles. 

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago. 

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back. 

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile. 

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.” 

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters. 

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism. 

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance 

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

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[nillegible]

the JGY amnesia Fic

[AN: Someday I will come up with decent titles for my fics... but not now XD I hope you like this fic, the premise is that the issue with XY and NMJ happens before JZX’s death, and so the argument and the stairs moves up in the timeline! And JGY hits his head and gets TV-show amnesia, and remembers no one, not even himself, but is otherwise his sharp, suspicious self...]

He wakes up sure that he is dying, nothing else could hurt so sharp, agonizing pain radiating out from the back of his head, stabbing sharply every time he is swung, and he forces his eyes open. The light burns, but he can make out an earth green and brown collar, and a strong jawline. He is being carried by this man.

He doesn’t know who this is, but he feels… safe. Even though every step this man takes makes his eyes water.

He blacks out.

*

His name is Jin Guangyao. It rolls smoothly off his tongue, but sits wrongly in his mind. “Temporary amnesia,” the doctor had informed him, when Jin Guangyao could not tell him the answers to any pf his questions; not his name, or the date, or where they were.

A fancy young master in white-and-gold robes, who introduces himself as Jin Zixuan, is the one who sits by his side and tells Jin Guangyao the basics of his life. There is such an obvious lack of detail that it leaves him intrigued. And Jin Zixuan looks ashamed when Jin Guangyao asked if he was Jin Zixuan’s uncle. “No, I’m your older brother,” he says. “We… we share a birthday, but you’re a day younger.”

Jin Guangyao watches him for a moment, and wonders at the source of his brother’s shame. “I’m a bastard, aren’t I?” he asks.

“My father legitimized you!” Jin Zixuan protests. “You’re my brother.”

Jin Guangyao smiles at him. This man is clearly naïve, but has no ill-intent. The man who had named Jin Guangyao Jin Guangyao, however? He is yet to ascertain that.

*

Jin Guangyao’s memory doesn’t return within the first week. With his head injury healed, though, he’s allowed to leave the infirmary which allows him to collect a lot more useful data.

There is a lot of work piled up in his room. Disorganized, as if someone had gone through it to take the important paperwork to work on while he is <infirm>. That he was assigned so much work that was non-essential makes him wonder if he was actually pretty low on the social ladder, here. He goes through all of them anyway, most of it is useful information, painting a picture of Jin sect’s activities, and the sorts of projects that they allow to drag on for weeks. Jin Guangyao has left meticulous notes in a separate notebook about how to put everything into a more sensible order. That such reworking was required

His accessories, or lack-there-of, are even more enlightening. There’s also a scholarly-sort of hat, and only a few cheap hair ribbons. Nothing at all like the intricate jade hairpins or crowns with intricate metalwork and precious stones that Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun wore daily.

Jin Guangyao’s place here is… obvious.

He wonders who the man who had picked him up after his injury, was. No one tells him, not even Jin Zixuan, he just pats Jin Guangyao’s hand and says, “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.” The implications of that are obvious, of course, that the stranger was the one who had hurt him. And yet it’s a subject no one speaks of, of how Jin Guangyao had fallen down the thousand steps of Koi Tower, and he hadn’t asked after the first two times. He stays wary, watching everyone. Someone had tried to kill him, and he doesn’t even remember which of his acquaintances might want him dead.

*

Lan Xichen arrives two days after his release from the infirmary, Lan-Zongzhu, according to everyone else. He’s beautiful, the most beautiful person that Jin Guangyao has ever seen. Since he remembers all of a week, this doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Jin Guangyao could probably search for decades and not find anyone more beautiful. It would not be fair.

They have tea together, after Lan Xichen – “Call me er-ge, you are my sworn brother, A-Yao,” – has checked him over worriedly, and checked his meridians, and pressed his fingertips gently to the back of Jin Guangyao’s head, to where his head injury had been, and ascertained that he truly is well.

“They did not tell me you were injured,” he says. “Da-ge had to, and this is the week of new students for the summer lectures, I could not leave. Jin Zixuan promised me you were well, though,” he says. Sincerity shines through him, and Jin Guangyao wonders what on earth he, an unwelcome child in his own family, could have done to make this man care for him.

So he asks.

Lan Xichen describes a heroic young man, who gave him shelter when he needed it most, who had smiled and laughed at him, and helped him with chores he could not do, and gave him the strength to fight a war. Lan Xichen tells him that this kind young man had gone into a war that did not affect him, only to help, that he had turned spy against a raging mad man, and finally taken off his head.

“So that is why my father took me in,” says Jin Guangyao. There’s a flicker of pain on Lan Xichen’s face as Jin Guangyao tells him what he’s surmised about how he’s treated here. “Did you know?” asks Jin Guangyao.

“I suspected,” Lan Xichen says softly. “But you were too proud to tell me. You insisted you were happy here. I visited when I could, but I never… I’m so sorry.”

Jin Guangyao reaches out to pat Lan Xichen’s hand, it feels so familiar, even if Jin Guangyao can’t remember doing it before. He must have, Lan Xichen’s sad face cannot be borne. “I’m sure I didn’t want to bother you, er-ge. You’re overworking yourself even now.” The signs are there, even behind his flawless composure. “You look so tired.”

“I had to come,” says Lan Xichen. “I was so scared that you…” He trails off, then turns his hand, holding onto him tightly. “If you don’t remember your place at Koi tower, do you want to return with me until your memory recovers? We’re still reconstructing, but Cloud Rececsses is still an excellent place to ”

“This Jin Guangyao is honoured, but what if it doesn’t?” asks Jin Guangyao practically. “I can’t just leave my home like that.” More quietly, he adds, “There must have been some reason I didn’t leave before.”

“You never said, exactly, but I believe it was because of your mother,” says Lan Xichen. “She wished that you would gain your father’s recognition, and a place at Koi Tower.”

“Do you know anything about her?” Jin Guangyao is not an idiot, he knows from the snide remarks, the way that people try not to touch him that he is of low birth, that his mother’s occupation was. That. He wonders if Lan Xichen will lie to him.

“She was an educated woman,” he says. “A renowned beauty. You’ve told me that you take after her, in many ways. She was skilled in the arts. She never taught you art but she was your master in calligraphy and music. She loved you very much and wanted you to have a good education because she knew… she knew that A-Yao is so incredibly smart and destined for greater things.” He squeezes Jin Guangyao’s hand. “Her life was not easy. She suffered, but she loved you. She would be proud of you, to know how much you achieved.”

It should matter, it does matter, Jin Guangyao’s heart squeezes, but it is from sympathy for what Lan Xichen is feeling. The dark honey-gold eyes are bright with tears. Clearly Jin Guangyao had loved her very much, before. But Jin Guangyao cannot find in him any love for a woman that Jin Guangyao cannot imagine. A woman with his face, a prostitute, but educated, talented. And ambitious to have Jin Guangshan’s son.

“My father did not take her in, I gather?”

“He did not. She died of illness shortly before I met you.”

“Thank you for telling me,” says Jin Guangyao.

*

Lan Xichen stays an entire afternoon, and readies himself to leave at dusk. Jin Guangyao accompanies him to the sky-pavilion on Koi Tower that the Jin disciples use to take off from.

There’s a last nagging question that Jin Guangyao hadn’t managed to slide into the conversation, as it meandered into cultivation theory and Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen had tried to piece out some kind of pattern in what kinds of cultivation knowledge he had retained, and what he had forgotten. It had been an interesting exercise.

“Er-ge, before you go,” says Jin Guangyao. He looks around cautiously, but no one is near enough to overhear. “You’re older than Jin Zixuan, aren’t you?” he asks, and Lan Xichen nods. “So our da-ge… you never said. Is he… did he die during the war?”

“No!” cries Lan Xichen. “A-Yao no, he’s not. He’s fine, he just could not find time to visit.”

Lie.

It’s the first time Lan Xichen has lied to him today, but Jin Guangyao is certain of it.

“No one talks about him, and I couldn’t find any letters from him. I did find a few of yours. No one even says his name. Who is he?”

“Nie Mingjue,” says Lan Xichen, sounding defeated. “Of course you would think to ask, but his name is Nie Mingjue.”

Everything falls into place. Jin Guangyao has seen some Nie disciple couriers on their way to private meetings with his father and the Jin council of elders. Hard faced and angry looking, they kept to themselves and departed the moment they could, without staying for a meal or entertainment.

“You think he pushed me down the stairs,” says Jin Guangyao.

“No,” says Lan Xichen. “We know he did. He kicked you down the stairs. He–”

“And you believe that?” asks Jin Guangyao.

“Of course I do,” says Lan Xichen. “Da-ge was the one who told me. I knew that things were difficult between the two of you, recently, but I had not imagined… It does not matter, we are looking through the records now, so that you can be free of your vows to him, and even if we can’t find something, he won’t visit Koi Tower again, Jin-zongzhu has forbidden it.”

“Oh,” says Jin Guangyao, mind whirring. “Okay then.”

“Is A-Yao afraid we’re covering something up?” asks Lan Xichen. Jin Guangyao is not sure what gave it away, he thought he’d kept his face smooth.

“Naturally I trust er-ge,” he says, smiling up at him. “I just remember him, vaguely. He picked me up. He saved me.”

It’s Jin Guangyao’s first memory, pained and fragmented though it is.

“He did take you up to the infirmary right after,” Lan Xichen agrees. He looks faintly puzzled, like he’s not sure why that matters to Jin Guangyao.

“I understand,” says Jin Guangyao. “Nie-zongzhu would of course regret his action after his moment of anger.”

“He does,” Lan Xichen assures him. “You should write to him, if you are willing to accept his apologies, but Da-ge is terribly sorry.”

“Thank you er-ge, I will,” Jin Guangyao promises. The relief on Lan Xichen’s face is too pure for this world.

He waves goodbye after Lan Xichen takes off, and steps back into the maze of Koi Tower, mulling over all the new knowledge that Lan Xichen had brought with him. He was right, he should write to Nie Mingjue.

But after some more research.

What could they have possibly quarrelled about so badly?

Jin Guangyao makes his way back to his rooms, keeping his face expressionless at the gilded opulence and overt unfriendliness of his home. He doesn’t understand his past self at all.

Why does he still live here, where he’s so clearly unwanted?

Why did he even care for the acknowledgement of Jin Guangshan, who from even just Jin Guangyao’s few interactions this week and the gossip he’s picked up, is a selfish, disgusting pervert who wouldn’t spit on Jin Guangyao if he was on fire.

Just because his mother wanted him to?

She was a good woman, he hears again, in Lan Xichen’s sincere voice. But Jin Guangyao doesn’t get it. She had to have been a fool, to believe in Jin Guangshan, or terribly cold and cruel to send him to Jin Guangshan knowing exactly what kind of derision would await him here. He is a war hero, and yet he’s treated like a servant.

Jin Guangyao is in the mood to be charitable, so he picks the former.

He still doesn’t know why he stayed.

[You can now read part 2 here!]