#more details will be revealed here and so on...

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Chains of Bones: DARK!GODAEMOND X READER (snippet, short thingy)

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Summary: You are a servant working for the goddess Rhaenyra and the God Daemon. You are tasked with protecting the flowers and one day, you find yourself captured by rhaenyra's greatest enemy: Aemond.

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

WARNINGS: Misogny, (no kidding) emotional manpulation, dubcon, body betrayl, vaginal sex (f recv) oral sex (f recev) rough sex, mentions of loss of virginty, emotional gaslighting and gore, blood, and a lot of...BONES.

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:4853  (wow what a nice number)

Alicents pov (3th person)

The Underworld smells of burned wood and rotting leaves. Crushed dreams and broken hope. The smell of it alone makes her consider even setting a step further. 

A long time ago, she vowed she would never set a foot down here. It was unbefitting for the Queen and Goddess of Justice to visit a place so corrupt and immoral. 

She can't help but wonder if that is the true reason why her heart is beating out of her chest, why she never visited this place, or if it's her once so kind now demonic son who is ruling the Underworld has more to do with it. More than she'd like to admit, that is the true reason. He has a grip on her, and he knows that all too well.

Aemond did leave a portal, a small way for her to enter the Underworld open for her. He did so for her. Yet she never visited him. Not once. The pain of seeing what he has become hurts her soul too much.

The portal brings her right where Aemond is at that very moment, enjoying a lunch in a lavishly decorated room. Chandeliers decorated with skulls silently dance on the command of the wind, softly swinging back and forth. 

Aemond sits on a tall, dark chair with a high back, covering almost his entire body as if he's hiding himself somehow. The room is surrounded in darkness, with only the skull chandeliers and a small candle on the table giving the faintest of light. The light of the silver simple candelabra catches his sapphire, giving it a terrifying glow. He eats without his eyepatch. Odd. She remembers he preferred to hide his socket rather than to show it off. But now he doesn't seem to care at all.

Her son is unrecognisable. He wears green but it might as well have been black. The colour makes him look paler and highlights his sharp features. His hair is still as long as it used to be, maybe longer. A clip made from two finger bones holds his hair neatly in place. At the end of the silver, unnaturally shimmering hair, blood can be seen dripping down silently, yet it never hits the ground. His fingernails are long, deadly and dangerous and almost clawlike. The nails begin in a dark, rotting colour that ends in a bloodied red pattern where veins and darkness dance, creating a pattern unique to each fingerbone.

Alicent stares at her own nails, broken off from all the pulling she did. Aemond did not inherit that toxic trait from her. But when she studies him so quietly, she notices that he does impatiently tap his fingers against the wood of the table, signaling he wishes his dinner to be served and served now. 

A servant wearing a dark green apron with white details carefully places a gilded serving scale in front of the God, barely hiding her shaking hands and trembling fingers. Alicent wants to speak out, to tell her to not be afraid. But she can't. She doesn't know this man. Not anymore.

The lit is lifted and reveals a dark blackened pig. Aemond picks up the silver decorated knife with eye-like details as Alicent watches in awe. Roast pig used to be his favourite. Some things haven't changed. It fills her chest with hope, as she watches her son tear the ears from the beast, silently still. 

He begins to eat the ears first, and Alicent notices he eats it fast, almost as if he's in a hurry. 

The other servant presents him the goblet in the form of a skull, richly filled to the brim with a crimson coloured wine. The smell of it even reaches Alicent and even though it's been a while, she can smell the powerful herbs all the way from where she's standing. Aemond brings the skull to his dry lips and throws it back, loudly shuddering and hissing, twisting in his chair as the drink travels through his body.

He stands up too fast, pushing the chair away from him as he grabs the wood of the table, crying out in absolute pain, whimpers that trigger Alicent’s mother instincts that she thought she had lost so long ago. She doesn't understand what he is doing. Or why. She steps forward but stops. The skull is grabbed by Aemond again and this time he crushes it easily to dust, signaling that he is done with whatever was in the wine.

She watches as another cup is brought out, made of green glass and decorated with blue gemstones. Aemond grabs this eagerly and drinks this too, but much slower. 

She understands he is preparing for war. Giving himself ambrose water to create a resistance to it. Rhaenyra told her that a drop could weaken the King of the Underworld, and that two could possibly make him pass out. Yet Aemond is standing tall, gulping down on the pig that is ripped to pieces in front of Alicent. He drank a full cup. And it did him nothing.

He begins to talk, after he has finished his meal. “Let the Magister know that the wine can be doubled. I am strong enough for it now.” He stares at the servant girl until she understands he is speaking to her. He calmly removes the sapphire from his eye, scratching deep in the socket, where spiders and bugs come crawling out of. That seems to do the trick, as the frightened girl now runs off, screaming in utter fear.

He chuckles, delighted as the illusion fades away. “How is my Queen doing?” He asks the  servant man who had been quietly watching the bloody and violent scene of Aemond ripping apart the pig. Aemond chews on a leg of the pig.

Alicent tenses up at the mention of the mortal girl Aemond abducted. “I wouldn't know, my King. You forbade us all from entering her rooms without your explicit consent. You should ask Ann, her assigned handmaiden.”

Aemond drops his fork silently, briefly touching the metal ends as it cuts in his flesh. He doesn't feel a thing. The poison dulls it all. He stands up, nodding slowly as he approaches the servant. “You think you can command me?”

The servant understands he made a grave mistake. “No, my King. It was a mere suggestion. Ann is her handmaiden. Y-you arranged that yourself.” He nervously stutters.

Aemond sighs, ignoring the servant again as he grabs another piece of the pig, tearing another paw off. “I did. I want her to be prepared for what the future might bring. Rhaenyra never has been keen on sharing. Not with me, not with Aegon.” The servant frowns. Aemond is very careful of mentioning his family members around his staff. Most of the servants wouldn’t even know that Aemond has a family to begin with.

The man seems intrigued by the mention of the brother of Aemond. “Who is Aegon, my King?” He is a curious one. That would have served him well. If only things were different. If only he wasn't…

“My brother.” Aemond reveals, trying to keep his face in an emotionless state by the memory of how Aegon and him parted.

The eyes of the servant widen in a pleasant surprised expression, betraying what Aemond already knows; He has a brother too. “You have a brother? Why, I never would have guessed.” He exclaims, surprised. There is hope in his eyes.

Aemond shrugs, not going into much detail as he chews on the paw, careful to mind the bones. “It's because in the Underworld, I like to keep my family secret. Even knowing their names can be disastrous for them, and for that reason; be disastrous for me.” He reveals.

The man is no longer smiling, and Aemond can hear the beat of his heart increasing as a smirk spreads on his own cracked lips.  “Then why tell me-” Oh he knows why. He knows why all too well.

He only smiles. “I have reason to believe you are someone very special. The way my Queen is special. You are an unpolished weapon. A piece of forged steel.” Aemond drops the paw, paying his full attention to the man as Alicent gulps, reading his body language. He moves too eager, he smiles too broadly and he chuckles too darkly as a monster is crawling out of the shell that once was her son.

The servant tries to save himself, understanding danger is nearby. “I am not, my King. I am your humble, loyal, servant!’’

Aemond rolls his good eye, laughing as he grabs the man by his thin underfed shoulders, shaking him and enjoying the confusion and fear that is written across the man's face. A kill is not fun on its own. He needs to see that realization. He needs to see that they know they have lost. He needs them to understand who won. “Yes you are. Your blood and your bones are important to someone I happen to despise. With your end, they will only become stronger.” 

The man gulps, eager for an escape. He can't see Alicent but somehow he does pray to her. He is praying to her, the Goddess of Justice. She feels it in her bones and she must ignore his request. “I won't betray you. Not after you've given me a chance.” The man says. “You saved me from the flames.” He adds. “You made me your servant.” True, because Aemond had picked up on the man’s abilities rather quickly, hoping to one day use him as a bargaining chip. But that day won’t come, as he cannot live a life where his enemy is possibly stronger than him. 

Aemond sighs, annoyed and done with the game already. He doesn't understand that his Queen can be so interesting and fierce when this sack of blood and bones barely gives him the satisfaction of a fight. Mortals can be so boring. “It won't be up to you, you mortal toad. A slit of your throat could empower him. I can't have that. I can't have that at all.”

Aemond silently rips open the chest, tearing through clothing, skin, and organs. Blood comes pouring out of the servant, staining the white tiles in the dining room. Alicent can't believe what she is seeing as Aemond continues to tear through organs, making sure there is nothing usable left.  “You killed him.” She says the moment she has found her voice. And she didn't do anything. She was frozen in shock or disgust. That man served Aemond loyally and he killed him just like that.

He licks off his bloodied fingertips. “You could have interfered. I was hoping for that. One of your boring speeches about how I'm better than that.” He turns around at long last, facing her directly with a cheeky smirk and a sparkle in his eye.

She feels the blood drain from her face, making herself taller by lifting her head.

“You knew I was here?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. As a mortal boy, my ears have always worked perfectly fine. As an immortal God, well…” The servant girl returns, interrupting the two immortal Beings. She seems confused by Alicent’s appearance, but doesn’t question her master at all. She doesn't know Alicent is a goddess.

He addresses her quickly, smiling as she tells him in a trembling voice that she has done what he asked of her. “Ah, thank you, darling. You can rest now.” The King of the Underworld turns around to face his mother, daring her to speak up. He used that word on purpose, giving her a taste about what is to come. Alicent stares him down, warning him of the consequences. But Aemond never cared about the consequences. You need to value life to care about that.

When she doesn't, he places both his hands on the servant’s trembling shoulders, and grabs her throat, piercing the delicate skin and ripping her throat out, as the girl lets out one horrified scream before she drowns in her own blood. The first kill was his duty. The second, a warning to his mother. He won’t let anyone interfere with his plans, certainly not her.  “Aemond,”Alicent hisses, in anger and fear. Disgusted she stares at her son.

Bored, Aemond sits back down on the chair he threw around the room, now standing perfectly up in the corner again. “Do not raise your voice at me, Mother. You are my guest here. What do you want? I doubt you came here to congratulate me on my upcoming wedding.” He crosses his arms, waiting for her explanations or rather her excuses.

She is surprised that he still keeps up that lie. He doesn’t plan on marrying her at all, he plans on murdering her. Rhaenyra told her so. “I came here for that. You are to release that poor girl.” She says, referring to the mortal girl Aemond kidnapped.

He doesn't even consider her words. He knows the truth. If he was, she would end up dying within the first minute he turned her back on her. And he can't turn his back on her. “Why on the ends of the world would I? I happen to quite like her. For a mortal, she is surprisingly amusing.” He tries to play it off as a joke, hiding his true intentions and feelings.

Alicent doesn't even pay enough attention to see that her own flesh and blood is lying.

“You only kidnapped her to infuriate Rhaenyra.” She says to which Aemond rolls his good eye, lazily rubbing the socket of his other, trying to hide his frustrations that just the name of that woman brings.

He speaks, licking his lips. “You know, contrary to what that woman believes, the sun and the moon and the stars do not always revolve around her.” His father believed it. Daemon believes it. His own mother believes it. He doesn’t. He knows what she truly is. A parasite, sucking the life out of everyone she sets her tiny little fangs into.

Alicent knows what it’s like to be kidnapped and to be forced to marry someone you don’t want to marry at all. She knows very well because that is exactly what happened to her and Viserys. He might not have kidnapped her, but he sure made her feel as a worthless prisoner. “The girl was her servant and you took her but not before shamelessly assaulting the poor girl.” 

She knows Aegon had a few incidents of hurting women, but she never expected Aemond to stoop that low. Maybe the truth is that her parenting is the issue of the unspeakable natures of her boys. The God of the Underworld crosses his legs, laughing in delight. “Ah. Is that what Rhaenyra told you? Well, let me tell you the truth; The Girl wanted me. She begged me, in fact, quite loud about that.’’ He reveals. ‘’Why didn’t Rhaenyra tell you that, Mhm. I wonder…’’ He revels in her shock.

The first oh so solid and unbreakable expression on her face now becomes doubt and uncertainty as she judges whether or not he is lying to her. “Why would she? She knows what sort of vile creature you are.” She says. Aemond stands up, slowly coming her way. When he is in front of her, he lifts the sleeve of her arm, staring at the scar she recently received when protecting her own life.

He smiles at the scar, finding it a poetic reminder how she was once his whole world and his protector. He always was pessimistic and negative growing up but not once did he doubt her and her intentions. And yet she sold him out.  “The creature that you made me, Mother. You won't have her and neither will Rhaenyra. She is mine.”

“I came here to take her. With or without your consent. It could finally mean peace, between the realms of Light and Dark.” Peace. Peace. There is no peace. There can’t be peace, for there is no balance. Peace without balance will break again, the way a drop of rain splashes on the tiles.

The mention of peace, just the idea of peace when his half-sister is sitting on that throne unpunished while his eye is missing, his love is dead, and his life is ruined, is too much to bear. “You can leave the castle now. Empty-handed. You will go back to that whore of a woman and bend your knees for her, crawl and degrade yourself as the blood of your grandson gushes over your head that you couldn't deliver Rhaenyra what she wanted.” He brings up the young Jaehaerys, his nephew that Rhaenyra’s husband had slayed in his bed when Jaehaerys became God of the Animals. Now Rhaenyra’s son, Aegon the younger, is the new God of animals. Jaehaerys was killed in cold blood and all Alicent wants to do is roll over and let her enemies get away with it as they have gotten away with so many things.

He is done with it.

“Aemond-”

He is not quite finished yet, unleashing all his bottled up rage as he pictures the faces of his brothers and his sister on the day his mother, their mother, sold them out to the enemy who only ever wanted them dead. “Because why would you give a damn about my happiness? Or Aegon's? Or Helaena's? Or Daeron’s?”

She can tell what is coming, silently tearing up. She can already hear the words he is about to throw at her, cutting her flesh and damaging her soul. Aemond points his finger in her direction, carefully lowering it the moment he sees flames coming from the tips. “You never wanted us. You never wanted any of us-” 

And that's when she snaps. “Of course I didn't!” Alicent screams, tears bursting from her eyes. “I was seven and ten. I was married to a man I used to look up to, the King of gods! An older man that had been so kind all my life. Now I wonder if he was after that all along. I was forced to be bred by a stinking old man that fathered my best friend, who called me a whore and despised me.” Aemond is silent, for the first time in a long time.  “No, Aemond. I never wanted to have any of you. But I did it because it was my duty.”

She always did use that as her shield. Shields break over time. They lose their value. As do apologies and excuses. She was a young naive girl once, but she has changed. She cannot crawl into her old self anymore. No matter how tight she holds onto it; He knows better than most that its already gone.

His mother nervously picks at her nails, tears soiling her dress and ruining her makeup. He offers her a napkin to wipe her tears. It's the least he can do. For all her flaws, she's his guest. But when she is sniffing he becomes annoyed. “They wanted my throat slit and paraded your grandson's head around town. Two drunk idiots, mortal idiots outsmarted the Gods, showed all the mortals we rule over that we are nothing but flesh and bone, same as them. They challenged our birthright and our succession laws, they questioned our culture and our heritage.’’ He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “And you still dream of peace. I don't know if I'd call it delusion or stupidity or masochism at this point. Do you perhaps enjoy hurting yourself? Or maybe it's sadism that you like to inflict and punish us all for how your life turned out?” She just lets him rage, although his accusations do hurt her and he does make a point. 

“If Rhaenyra wanted peace, she'd bend her knees to my brother and offer me her little bastard sons as a peace offering for me to slay.” He knows she'll never agree to those terms. But it would come close to balance. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. And a crown for a crown. It would be leveling the scales for once in their favor, not hers.

Alicent is shocked and disgusted once more, shocked at this confession but not surprised. He always wanted revenge. Ever since he lost his eye. The godhood of death only made him more cruel and certain of that. “You don't mean that.” He can’t mean to harm the little children. 

She never liked Jace, the little noisy brat. Lucerys was a bully, always playing the innocent, and Joffrey is a reckless little brat that one day will get himself killed. Aegon took over the godhood of the Animals from Jaehaerys. She will always resent him for it. But Aegon is a child. Does she want him to die for it? No. Not entirely at least. And Viserys…A shell of a lonely boy. She doesn't know how to feel about him.

Alicent is bound by duty and chained by love to her friend and her children. Her duty as Goddess requires her to be a open-minded forgiving person.

Aemond learned a long time ago that he's on his own however. He doesn't trust anyone. That way no one will hurt him. “But I do. I do mean that.” He looks into her brown eyes, staring her down. “I kill them every night in my dreams. I rip their throats open, I smash in their skulls, I tear their livers out and squeeze their eyeballs until they pop. I picture their whimpers as well as their screams and no matter how graphic the dreams get, they'll never beat the sweet sweet momentum of reality. There's no one I'd rather kill. Pure because it would destroy Rhaenyra.”

He is still a child himself, in so many ways. She sees that now. A child trapped in a horrible memory. “Killing her sons will not kill her.” She tells him, gently, touching his face.

He shrugs her hand away, offended she even dared to touch him. “Oh, but it would. Just slowly. The mental toll on that head would be too big if she lost them all. She'd go mad or kill herself.” He shrugs as if picturing Rhaenyra dead and how he wouldn't weep a second for his half sister.

Alicent pictures her friend laying death on the floor and can’t help but shudder. As the goddess of Justice she often, too often is confronted with souls who could not carry their burdens any longer. It never gets easier for her. It is as if looking in a mirror every time. “Lie to yourself all you want, Mother. You know who I am. As do I.” He says.

He knows he can provoke her even more and makes up terrible ideas of torture on the spot. “Jace would piss himself. The little one, that Joffrey would be stupid and try to run. My hounds would catch him. I'd collect whatever's left of his bastard body, and maybe ship it to Rhaenyra with Jace's eyeless head.’’

She chuckles, annoyed and furious. “Fantasize all you want. Those boys Are as immortal as you are.” For now, maybe.

He leans in closer, grinning as he unveils his plans a tiny bit. ‘’Are they now?’’

Her tears threatened to fall, breaking her mask. “Enough deflecting. I've come here for the Girl. You won't do what happened to me to her.”

He feels the words already grow in his mind as he thinks of the ultimate way to express himself and make it clear for once and for all that he is nothing like his dead old father and that his Queen is his and his alone.

“That Is what makes this all so, so sad, Mother.” He grabs her hands, touching her fingertips. “I do love her. Father never loved you. I allow her privileges unheard of for Queens. She will love me, in time. I know it for certain. I won't do what was done with you. Unlike you, Petal is worth the effort. She is worth loving.’’

Alicent doesn't respond, studying him closely. It disappoints him that she didn't cry or sob. It hurts him because why wouldn't she cry at those vile heartless words? Unless she doesn't care what he says. Not anymore. 

He wonders…

Did she ever?

“You seem so different, Aemond.  Your cheeks have colour and your eye sparkles. You look smitten.’’ He stares at his hands, noticing a faint unfamiliar colour he hasn’t seen in ages, that comes almost close to his own skin. He has changed. Shocked, he looks at his other hand and notices the same flesh colour.

And it terrifies him. “Do not take her from me.’’ It is supposed to sound threatening and booming, commanding and terrifying as he truly feels. But she caresses his face again, touching his skin with her own warm fingers when she simply looks at her son, not the God. He softens and breaks, his walls shattering. It sounds as a plea, a whisper, a beg for mercy. A boy crying out for his mother.

“I won't, sweet boy.’ She says, to his own surprise.

He is shocked. He can’t fight the smile of his lips. Finally, she is choosing him. “But Rhaenyra-” He must have heard it wrong. She never picked him before. Or it's a trap, surely.

Alicent scoffs, a dismissive little noise he always had hoped she would make when discussing her friend. “Rhaenyra made her choice when she allowed my grandson to be slain in his bed. As I now make mine. You won't be giving her that girl at all. But I am the goddess of Justice, Aemond. I can't allow gods to sweep in and kidnap and impregnate mortals.” She says, a bit uncomfortable. “You say you love her. That is wonderful. But does she return your feelings?”

He didn't even hear her words. His mind hangs by one sentence. Frozen in time. A pregnant Petal. Aemond smiles at the idea of Petal running around, chasing blonde haired children with her beautiful eyes and her smile, around his castle while he joins in the chase, playing with their children. Petal hands him their son, and as Aemond takes the baby from her, the dream is cut to pieces.

A sharp pain interupts the vision. A demanding pain that causes him to almost double over. He clutches at his chest, close to the hole where his heart once was. A grunt escapes him as the pain fades. 

At first he can't believe what has happened. Then he plans to get rid of whoever witnessed this moment of weakness.

No servant saw what happened. But a very distraught pale Alicent did. “Was that-” She mutters, her brown eyes big with confusion, And also…Hope.

Aemond ignores her, with shaking legs he walks back to the chair and allows himself to sit, feeling exhausted. He knew Petal's grip was strong. But not this strong. Not strong enough to possibly restore his heart. He took it out for a reason. He threw it away for a reason. He doesn't need it. Not when he is ruling and not when fighting wars. And now Petal has somehow returned a piece to him, unknowing. Not even Petal, no, he did just by thinking of her enchanting smile. He sighs, briefly disgusted with himself. What is he even turning into?

Alicent follows her son, watching him silently. She sees her son for the first time in years. She thought Aemond lied about the mortal girl. That it was lust or loneliness or maybe boredom that drove him to kidnap the girl. But now she sees that he cares. And that he is changing. 

Aemond sighs, displeased how hopeful his Mother is. She is already planning her schemes he is sure of it. But so can he. If she believes he's changed for the better; Let her. It will be put to good use. And then it all comes together. How to get revenge on Rhaenyra, her bastards, her idiotic husband, and even to make his mortal Queen a goddess herself. It will take a while, and it will be a slow plan but he has time. He has all the time in this godforsaken world. “Can't we make an agreement?” He asks.

She just stares at him, confused. He knows what she wants. What she always secretly wanted despite she denied it herself so many times. “You mentioned Petals flaw.” He says keeping it vague.

“Her mortality?” He grumbles at that word, refusing to acknowledge that his love could even be mortal. He needs that mistake corrected as soon as possible.

He plays nice, however. For now. “Yes. I'd like to solve that problem. But I need help.”

His mother knows that he is up to no good. “What's in it for me?”

He smiles, as if he was waiting for those words. “Why, the purest of motivations of course: Revenge against the man that killed your grandson.”

A/N

thats just the intro of the chapter 4 of this fic and its already up to 4k lords have mercy. xD I wanted to share this introduction because it has been too long and i am still alive. I'm working on the next chapter of this fic, so it will be done one of these days but i hope you can forgive me for not updating that long sorry:(

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Phantom on the Grid - Teaser

F1 grid x Driver Reader F1 grid x Doohan Sister Reader

Jack did it. My brother is finally a Formula 1 driver.

The second I saw the announcement, I couldn’t stop smiling. Alpine finally gave him the seat he worked his entire life for, and he deserved it more than anyone. But as I scrolled past the headlines, my excitement twisted into something heavier.

Buried beneath the praise and celebration were the details no one wanted to talk about—his contract. Six races. That’s all they were giving him to prove he belonged. Six races to either sink or swim before they could rip the seat from under him.

My stomach twisted. I knew how ruthless this sport was, but seeing it spelled out in cold, hard conditions made it real. Made it terrifying.

That’s when my phone buzzed.

A text message from Nico Rosberg, my newly appointed manager.

Cadillac is moving up to 2025. The seat is yours if you want it.

My breath caught in my throat. This was my shot. A full-time Formula 1 seat. No last-minute trials, no waiting for a mid-season miracle. A guaranteed place on the grid. The dream I fought so hard for.

But then I looked back at Jack’s announcement. His name in bold letters. His moment.

If I took this, if I revealed myself now, all eyes would be on me. Not just as a rookie—as the first female driver on the grid in decades. I knew what would happen. The press wouldn’t talk about my pace, my skills, my right to be here. They would turn me into a spectacle. The girl invading the boys’ club.

And Jack? Jack would be shoved into the shadows before he ever had the chance to prove himself. I couldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t.

Besides, I had hidden my identity before. No one in IndyCar ever questioned the mystery behind my helmet. Not even my own brother. I could do it again.

So I made my decision.

I would take the seat. I would race. I would fight for everything I had ever wanted.

But the world would never know my name.

[windwenn]

Oookay here are my final thoughts written out a little clearer than they were late last night lol:

- it feels pointed and a little sad that silna's name is only revealed in the final episode. The men are content to just assign her an identity and dont think further of it, which i think speaks to the wider attitude towards the land itself, and its people.

- expanding on that point i love how we see crozier latch onto her real name immediately. I think at some point close to the end it becomes obvious that he's abandoned his previous identity/life, his sympathies seem to lie with the inuit and he understands that killing the tuunbaq is cause for sadness. I think the fact that he's irish (so as i pointed out a few times his relation to the empire is a little different) is relevant here and to his general development.

- again relevant to the last point, it sounds crazy to say bc it was SO bleak but i also think episode 10 was just as full, if not moreso, of kindness. In the end crozier is motivated almost entirely by an unselfish desire to remain by the sides of his men - who are less his men at this point and more his friends, beloved companions. Brothers even, in fitzjames' case. Im not sure if at that point he truly thought they would live through it but not once does he think of letting someone die alone or abandoned. He sits with the final man alive as he dies, and comforts him. Goodsir dies thinking of the beauty of the world around him, and an unfailing belief that the world is good. I said before that the men think the land evil for rejecting them, but goodsir manages to surpass this. Even though jopson dies thinking crozier betrayed their friendship ('friendship' lol that man was in LOVE) - which transcended their naval positions, crozier DOES go back to him - we spend time watching him mourn, and that matters. The show chooses to focus again and again on the intimacy - in contrast to the animosity - that develops between certain characters, an intimacy that provides them comfort at the end. Crozier goes through what is almost a symbolic death - telling the men who come after that everyone is dead and theres no passage through, sacrificing his old life to stop any more men from following in their footsteps and causing further damage to the people living there, as well as themselves. That being said at this point he is a different person, and i dont thinm he could have returned even if he had wanted to. His end is gentle, and contemplative.

- through crozier and hickey we see the two directions you can go in after having made such a fatal error of hubris; you can learn from your mistakes, let it shape you and make you a better person, or you can remain blind, and let pride consume you (in the form of a bear ha ha get fucked mr hickey). And that idea of letting go of pride and allowing yourself to be shaped by the world around you is relevant i think because the terror and erebus were like thorns in the side of the land they were encroaching upon, because the expedition was about conquest for the british empire, about bending the land around you to your will. Until you get to a place that refuses to be bent. And so the choice is either to throw away pride or die. So in a way this environment is kind of perfect for examining empire, how it impacts identity, and what these men decide to define themselves by in the face of death. So its very fitting that it end with the swan song, that was a super cool detail.

- Not showing what happened to the men left on the boats is kind of worse because you just have to imagine based on what you've already seen🧍‍♂️

- on the topic of kindness again, i love the way they killed hickey so much. It strips empire (the values of which it seemed to me he came to represent) of its power, saying you can beat down and damage this place (the tuunbaq) all you want, but it will never be yours. And his actual death is so quick, like a footnote to the rest of the episode. The highest punishment for a man like him is inconsequence.

- not analysis but if anyone has any thoughts on jopson's death i would be very interested to hear them bc i was WEEPING. It felt very much informed by class commentary to me which definitely lines up with the other stuff but i just loved the imagery of him crawling across the table so much OUUGHH that poor man. Sir john franklin i hate u so much.

- I think its so hard to watch also because you know that they - for the most part, though some of this was the unfortunate result of a single man's actions - did it to themselves. THEY did this and there's so much shame in their deaths, so much waste. Leaving each other behind out of cowardice and desperation, taking the easiest route out only to end up dying just the same. Causing yet more suffering and all for nothing (thinking of jopson again 💔). But a lot of them learn to be better, and thats worse! Its so much worse because this is what it took and its too late!

- i was kind of getting the impression of some parallels to satan/god(or christ) in terms of the hickey/crozier dichotomy? Like crozier 'loves his men more than god' and forgiving everyone and just sort of being a neverending well of love in the end vs. hickey turning the men against each other through fear, literally whispering evil shit in their ears, inciting them to violence. Murdering everyone within arms reach. Im not religious so i dont really trust my judgement on this but it felt like kind of an interesting point? Idk

- the fact that its the british empire sending a bunch of guys (mostly working class sailors) to the arctic and as a result fucking up the natural food supply and being forced to cannibalise each other is just so good like its SO good. This is one of those stories that would probably be harder to fuck up than to get right bc of how much it just objectively works. Like the titanic. Imagine failing to make the titanic story into a warning about the evils of hubris and wealth.

- small detail but when crozier first got to the netsilik camp there was a shot of a child running scared into a tent. The last time we see crozier there is a child lying contentedly at his side as he hunts seal (previously mentioned as taking years to learn), which is such a lovely contrast.....He let himself be shaped.........

- i will be watching this vicariously through my sister as soon as possible like i need to rewatch this within the week or i'll go crazy probably

- i just remembered today it was fitzjames' jawbone they found with evidence of cannibalism congrats to 'The Terror' (2018) for having the gift of prophecy i guess

And that wraps up all the notes i made! This has definitely become one of my favourite shows of all time, i've been thinking about it all week and also i have some cool ideas for artworks jotted down so keep your eyes peeled👁👁

THE TERROR LIVEPOST HAPPENING NOW🫵🫵

[elf-trash]

Solavellan Recommended Reading

I made a post like this for SilverV a million years ago and wanted to make one for Solavellan as well!

A few of these fics overlap with the ones I have linked in my current pinned post, but there are soooo many fantastic Solavellan fics out there that I decided to make a longer rec post so I could include more of them!!!

Without further ado, here are some of my favorites, in no particular order. Some of them are one-shots or shorter multi chapter fics, and some of them are massive long fics and everything in between. Some of them are new and still in progress, some of them are completed, and a handful of them are older fics. All of them are absolutely worth your time!

walk you to the shore - Scaryanne A beautifully written post-Veilguard one-shot about Solas and Lavellan having it all out in the Fade. Highly recommend!

the sun to burn - Pip (Moirail) An Inquisition re-write that goes off canon and does a phenomenal job at exploring a ton of aspects of the lore and story. Features fantastic character writing and takes really thought-provoking directions with the lore!

love is not a victory march - Brunchatthebookstore A Veilguard retelling where Lavellan is present at the ritual at the beginning that goes off book from there. It's beautifully, heartbreakingly written and off to a REALLY strong start with some truly devastating moments, so this one is absolutely one to watch.

miles below the surface of the dawn - thefirstaidkit This fic is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read, period. On its face it's just 6 chapters of "there was only one bed" Inquisition-era Solavellan smut, but I stg the writer was channeling the spirit of Solas Dragon Age himself because it is the most perfect Solavellan smut I can imagine. Read this one, just trust me.

Martyr - existential_naptime If you like Solavellan angst, this one delivers in spades!!! It's set during Veilguard and explores what would happen if the Evanuris kidnapped the Inquisitor (and more specifically, how Solas would react). It is DELICIOUS and also extremely painful but well worth it!

Requited - cursedhag A beautifully written, pitch perfect Inquisition rewrite that fully checks all the boxes! Features a lot of excellent Solas' POV that incorporates all the new lore reveals we learned in Veilguard. Do yourself a favor and read this!!!!

rook wins in the end - wiltedartist A great exploration of Rook's relationship with Solas in Veilguard. Solavellan, but focuses on the one-sided unrequited feelings that Rook develops for Solas. Really interesting angle that I haven't seen done better.

And Yet - say_lene Beautiful Inquisition-era Solavellan one-shot. All of this writer's fics are so beautiful and well-written, so I kind of picked this one randomly but ALL of their Dragon Age fics are worth reading. We stan a good smut character study!!!!!

In the Colours of Your Regrets - scribeofmorpheus Another excellent smut character study! Solas sadly jorkin' it in the Lighthouse to his own sad murals of his wife. 11/10 no notes.

Roses Where Thorns Grow - Bdafic This one explores what would have happened if, after Crestwood, Lavellan learned the truth about Solas and they rekindled their relationship. It's a beautiful story that stays true to character and explores some of their messier and more complicated relationship dynamics.

Servitude - niceasspavus Another really, really solid Inquisition rewrite that explores Solas and Lavellan's romance. Well-written with excellent details and characterization. Highly recommend all of this writer's other fics, as well.

These Hands, If Not Gods - Gefionne An AU where a pre-Inquisition Lavellan accidentally discovers an eluvian that lets Arlathan-era Solas time travel to her. Beautifully written smut and character development. AUs aren't often my thing, but this one is absolutely worth your time.

Looking Glass - Feynite This one is theee classic Solavellan fic and probably needs no introduction. It's a time travel Arlathan AU, and it still holds up even after all these years, even unfinished. If you haven't read this one yet, stop whatever you're doing right now and fix that.

Wildest Dreams - elf_trash Finally, this one is mine!!! It's a retelling of Veilguard with Lavellan as the protagonist (aka Lavellan IS Rook) that focuses on her complicated relationship with Solas. Starts near the end of Inquisition and will continue through Veilguard and slightly beyond. I plan on reincorporating a lot of scrapped ideas from Joplin.

This list is in no way comprehensive, as ) there are sooo many good ones and b) I haven't read anything (yet lolol), so please feel free to reblog this and add your favorites!!!

But in the meantime, do yourself a favor and check out all of these fics! Top tier stuff all around.

[alex51324]

Got a response from my Republican senator's office to my messages about DOGE. I took the time to write up a detailed reply; sharing it here in case others find it helpful.

(Please note that, in this letter, I have chosen the rhetorical strategy of addressing the reader as though they are a reasonable individual acting in good faith, and we are working together to solve a problem. You probably will not find it a useful template if you have chosen a different rhetorical strategy.)

Hello Senator NAME,

Thank you for your thoughtful response to my concerns surrounding the Department of Government Efficiency. I have two follow-up questions.

First, I was glad to see you state that members of this entity are subject to the same privacy laws as other federal employees. Would you consider making a public statement to that effect, and emphasize that violating these laws is a bright red line, and that, should agents or affiliates of DOGE be found to be violating these laws, you would immediately call for & support immediate corrective action, including both employment actions (e.g., firing) and criminal actions if appropriate? I feel that it would be reassuring to the public to hear several senators, specifically Republicans, making this kind of commitment. It's fair to give this new administration some time to find its feet, but from the perspective of the general public, in a month that's been as busy as this one, that doesn't look a lot different from completely abnegating your oversight responsibilities. Making some public statements, about when you would step in, would go a long way toward allaying those concerns.

Secondly, I agree that a thorough audit of the federal government is a good idea! However, what DOGE is doing does not look like any audit I've ever seen. My father was an Auditor for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania; in my observation, an audit involves careful examination of records and practices to determine where funds are being used incorrectly. Auditors do not make law, they do not walk in the door and immediately start ordering cuts, and they do not fire people.

What Musk's team appear to be conducting is a scream test of the entire Federal government. In IT, a scream test is when you unplug or otherwise disable something, and then wait to see if anyone notices, and screams about it. It's typically done as a last resort, after other attempts to determine the role and necessity of the system in question have failed to turn up any evidence that the system is doing anything important. Even more crucially, when a scream test is done, there should be a way to immediately restore that system if somebody does scream.

So far, we've had two very loud screams: about the firing of nuclear security personnel, and teams working on the avian flu crisis. It seems like even a cursory examination by vaguely competent people would have very quickly revealed that these teams were performing essential functions. Secondly, subsequent events have proven that there was no plan or preparation to be able to reverse the firings now that the screams have started.

In addition to these two things, I am also wondering how many other screams have started, that will take longer than a few days to become loud enough to be heard in Washington, or to make it to the front page of major newspapers.

To call what is happening an "audit" is deeply disingenuous. It's a scream test, and even by the standards of the field in which this type of test is carried out (and where Musk and his employees come from), it is being carried out with gross incompetence. It's more like a bunch of toddles running amok in the server room, unplugging whatever catches their eye.

You can do better. We can do better. As a senator, I'm sure you've worked with auditors & reviewed the results of audits--you know what an audit is. Demand one.

Your Fellow American,

YOUR NAME HERE

[schrijverr]

It’s my House. I Live There

Divergence from chapter 7, where the 118 gets a call to a very familiar house, causing Buck to panic as he realizes they’re answering to an emergency Eddie is having. His reaction to the call and Chris recognizing him, causes their marriage to be revealed.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: medical emergency

~~~

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” Josh picks up as always, mentally prepared for anything.

Still, it’s never a good day when a young voice comes through the phone, saying: “My daddy, he- he fell down and he’s not waking up.”

Shit, that is not good. Josh puts on his gentlest professionalism as he starts typing, meanwhile asking the kid: “Can you tell me your name?”

“Christopher,” the kid replies. “I’m Christopher.”

“Hi, Christopher, I’m Josh. We’re going to get your daddy help, okay? Can you tell me where are?”

“Home,” Christopher says, before in a rare twist of luck rattling off the address. Most kids don’t know where they live, but Josh can’t know that Buck made sure Chris would, just in case something like this would ever happen.

While Josh continues to make sure Chris and whoever his dad is are okay and optimally taken care of so that when help arrives he’s still there, the alarm at the 118 rings.

As the 118 gets into the rig and drives off, Bobby tells them what they’re walking into: “Unconscious male, 25, fell down and isn’t waking up. He has a pulse and is breathing, but appears to have a high temperature. Call was made by his son, so let’s hurry, people.”

All of them tense at that last tidbit of information. Even though the kid is not in danger, it is never good when a child has to call in an emergency for their parent, because that is fucking terrifying for a kid to go through. But it also must be a very young kid going off the age of the parent.

Buck fidgets nervously. He hasn’t been with the 118 for long and is still trying to find his own footing, both in the team and in the work. A medical call hasn’t been his area, but it’ll be good training, he supposes.

Maybe he can help with calming the kid, Chris has made him good at that… Not that anyone here knows that though. They’ve all been nice so far, but Buck doesn’t know if he wants to share. His life at home is fading more and more as Eddie recovers and soon he won’t have it anymore. Does he want to face the humiliation of sharing it when it’s not even his to keep and it’ll be gone soon? Won’t it be easier to keep this a little closer to his chest, to ignore his reality for a little longer?

He tries to shake the thoughts off. They’re answering to an emergency, he needs to get his head in the game. He can have a crisis about his life later.

When he forces himself back into the present, he blinks to find familiar streets outside the window. An apprehension fills his chest as he remembers the details from the call. Right now he curses that he still struggles with listening to the call alongside the alarm, because a horrid thought takes root in his brain and he can’t shake it.

“Uh, what was- what was the address again?” he asks, voice cracking without his permission. A part of him doesn’t want to know, but he has to.

Everyone gives him a weird look and Bobby repeats the address. Buck’s address.

The air gets sucked out of his lungs and a pit forms in his stomach, pulling in all his life force as he feels momentarily weakened. Before his eyes flashes a thousand horrible possibilities that they’re about to walk into, making him feel like he is going to pass out.

“You good, man? You know the place or something?” Johnson asks, brow furrowed in concern as he does.

Buck faintly nods, barely managing: “It’s my house. I live there,” before they pull up to his porch, Eddie’s truck still in the driveway. He doesn’t stick around to see the shocked expressions, instead flying out of the rig like a bat out of hell.

Hen and Chimney are unloading the stretcher from the ambulance, having missed the exchange in the rig, when Buck comes running by. The two of them share a confused look, before hurrying after Buck into the house. Neither of them want to be responsible for the probie making things worse and both wonder if they missed new information over the radio that would cause Buck to react like that.

When they get into the house, they’re not prepared for finding Buck on one knee next to their patient, checking his vitals.

Meanwhile the kid they’d been informed would be there, has his arms around Buck’s neck, sitting on his propped up knee as he buries his head into Buck’s shoulder. Buck hugs him close, rubbing his back with his free hand.

It’s a bit too close than standard, but they didn’t see him come in and Buck is new. However, they have to share a look when they hear Buck mutter: “Come on, you son of a bitch, open your eyes.”

Hen puts the medical bag down while Chimney ushers Buck to the side. She half expected him to put up a fight or something with how eager he seemed to be here and the words he’d just spoken. If this is what he is going to be like on medical calls, they might have to reconsider if he can complete his probie year. Period.

She is surprised to find that she would be saddened by that fact. Despite how new Buck is, he has been a pleasant addition and she knows those can be rare to come by in this field, so if it turns out he can’t be professional on medical calls and they might have to let him go, that would suck. It’s not his usual behavior either, so she hopes it might be a one off and they can keep him.

The thought has barely entered her brain when Buck’s unusual behavior explains itself. Because as they check their patient over, Buck says: “He has a shoulder injury that he’s still recovering from, but there is still shrapnel in there. He was fine this morning, just tired, but that could be cause of his meds.” Then he lists of the medications the man unconscious on the floor is taking.

With his words, they realize that Buck knows this person. That he knows him well enough to be able to list his medical history, current ailments, his medication, fucking hell, he knows how he was feeling this morning.

“He’s burning up, I think he has an infection,” Chimney says, having checked their patient while Hen got out the equipment to get some fluids back into him, a neck brace just in case. He fell, but they don’t know how he landed.

They quickly work to get the brace on, while Bobby and Johnson pop their heads in too. Hen notices them looking around while her and Chimney work. She can’t blame them, this is very much not where she thought Buck would live. Because this is, in fact, where Buck lives.

She spares a glance around too as they lift up the gurney and start moving to the ambulance as they work. She notes the quaint living room with bookcases and a comfy couch, as well as pictures on the wall showing the man on their gurney along with the kid and Buck.

While Chimney pushes the gurney, she performs a sternum rub on their patient and he thankfully startles awake. As he blinks he mutters: “Wha happened? Where’s Chris?”

“You passed out, because you’re a dumbass who didn’t tell me he was feeling sick,” Buck tells him, coming to walk alongside the gurney with who she gathers is Chris on his hip, since he leans a little so the patient can see him. “Chris is fine. Called 9-1-1 for you when you didn’t wake up.”

“Daddy,” Chris exclaims, clearly very relieved to see his dad awake again after what must have been a terrifyingly long wait.

“Oh…” the man blinks guiltily. “’m sorry. I thought I was fine.”

Immediately the concerned sternness melts away as Buck’s expression softens. “No need to be sorry, Eddie. You just scared me. And Chris.”

“It was really scary,,” Chris nods in agreement.

“I am so sorry, mijo. Promise I’m okay,” Eddie says as they load him in the ambulance and Chimney drives off with the sirens on.

“Maybe let the doctors decide that,” Buck interjects, before carding a hand through Chris’s hair and assuring him. “But I’m sure they’ll agree. Daddy is a bit of a dumb dumb, but he’s strong, like you, so he’s going to be just fine.”

At that Chris smiles broadly, the worried little frown he’d had earlier disappearing entirely.

Hen gives the kid a fond look. He seems like a sweet kid and it’s clear both of his parents care a lot about him. It is a bit of a shock to classify Buck as a parent, since he seems pretty young to have a kid Denny’s age, but he has picked up the responsibility well despite his age.

However, now is not the time to contemplate this, so she turns to Eddie and says: “I’m going to check your shoulder now. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Eddie is feeling a little cold and achy despite his temperature and his shoulder definitely looks red and puffy, irritated. Fuck, that is an infection indeed. Hopefully it won’t turn into full sepsis, because if it goes wrong, Eddie could be loosing that arm.

“Chimney, drive fast. Could become sepsis,” Hen says, glancing over at Buck when she shares the news because she knows Buck will know what that means.

Indeed Buck’s face is a little pale, as he tries to keep Chris entertained and distracted. He doesn’t let his worry show beyond the blood that leaves his cheeks and the way he reaches out to grip Eddie’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly as Eddie gives a similar expression back.

The quiet in the ambulance, which is made more poignant by the loud sirens right outside it, is interrupted by Chris going: “What is this for, papi?” as he points defibrillator.

Buck explains what it is to Chris, who looks at it curiously, expression mimicking one she has seen on Buck in the past. The atmosphere is a little weird as they watch Buck desperately try to be normal while also clearly wanting to freak out and worry about Eddie, while Eddie half falls asleep, getting woken by Hen sporadically.

She can’t imagine how Buck must be feeling right now and she gains a new respect for him with how level headed he manages to be despite the circumstance. She has no clue how she would have reacted if they pulled up to an emergency and she found out it was Karen, with Denny right there on the scene with her.

Maybe more crying. Though, Denny would always be a priority, she knows that. For Denny’s sake, she’s sure she could keep the freak out at bay.

All of them are relieved when they get to the hospital and even though they normally don’t follow patients through the glass door, this time they do.

Hen holds out her arms for Chris, letting a grateful Buck deposit the kid in her arms with a quick kiss to his head and a promise he’ll be right back. Then he runs after the nurses and doctors, telling them all he knows and probably getting sign in papers. Eddie is moved up the line, which is never a good thing in an ER and she hopes he’ll be okay.

Chimney softly tells her he’s going to call Bobby, figure out what to orders to pass along to Buck when he comes back out. She nods at him to go, guessing that Bobby will let Buck go for the day, so it’s more a question if either of them can stay behind to keep him company while they wait on the news.

However, she doesn’t need to worry Chris with any of that, so instead she smiles at him saying: “Hi, I’m Hen. You were really brave, calling for help for your dad.”

“Thank you,” Chris says in a tiny voice, before he asks: “Is he- Is he going to be okay? He didn’t look so good.”

They’re not allowed to make promises, but she doesn’t have to be negative either. “Your dad made it here really fast and the doctors are going to make sure he’s well taken care of, yeah? He’s in the best hands there are.”

That seems to cheer him up, which is good. Though now his attention is elsewhere, asking: “Where did papi go?”

His curiosity makes Hen smile. He certainly gets that from Buck, she thinks, before she answers: “He has to tell the doctors about what happened so they can take care of him well. It’s important that they know everything, so they don’t give him something that he can’t have.”

“Like when I had to take an allergy test because my meds made me itchy and then I didn’t have to take them anymore?” Chris ask.

“Uh, yeah, like that,” Hen replies, a little taken aback by how candidly Chris talks about that. Though, on second thought, maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s clear he asks a lot of questions and with what she has seen, his dads aren’t the types to not answer them.

“That makes sense,” Chris informs her.

“I’m glad it does,” Hen says with a smile.

At that point, Chimney joins him, holding out his hand as he says: “Hi, squirt, I’m Chimney. Good to meet you, kid.”

“Chimney is a silly name,” Chris giggles, while Chimney squawks in mock offense.

It’s nice to see him being able to laugh after what was surely a scary experience. And when Hen is the first to spot Buck coming out of the ER doors again – looking a little like he’s been run over – it is clear he agrees. His whole expression changes into a relieved exhaustion, tears welling up in his eyes.

She watches as he swallows the tears down and plasters on a grin, taking Chris back in his arms with a happy: “Hey, if it isn’t my Superman. Come here. God, I’m so proud of you.” He nuzzles his nose in Chris’s hair, taking a deep breath.

“Papi,” Chris half-laughs, half-complains. “That tickles.”

“Oh? Does it tickle?” Buck smirks, nosing Chris’s hair more, while the boy giggles.

“Ahh, papi!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” Buck smiles, dropping a kiss on Chris’s cheek and holding him close for a moment, before he relaxes his stance. “We forgot your crutches, little man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, papi,” Chris assures him, patting his back in a way that is a clear imitation of an action that has been done to him in the past. It makes Buck smile, though that smile dims somewhat when Chris asks: “Where is daddy?”

Both Chimney and Hen hold their breath, having watched the previous interaction with fondness, but now also curious for news. It’s not often they get to know how their patients end up.

Buck maneuvers Chris so he can look him in the eye as he says: “Daddy is with the doctors. Remember when you had to go to the doctor and they made you feel better? They’re doing the same for him. We just have to wait. You know why?”

“Because people waiting for you is good luck,” Chris says, as if reciting something. It hits Hen that with Chris’s CP he’s probably been in hospitals before and that’s something they told him to make him feel better, making the moment more touching.

“That’s right,” Buck nods with a smile. “So we’re going to find a spot in the waiting room and call tía Pepa so she can bring us some stuff, like your crutches and art supplies, while we wait for daddy to get better, yeah?”

“Okay,” Chris nods.

Buck looks over to Chimney and Hen for the first time, his expression caught between apologetic and uncertain as he says: “Uhm, I- I know I still have half our shift left, but could you maybe-”

“Kid,” Chimney interrupts him. “I already called Bobby. You’re off today and tomorrow. Go wait for your husband. Text us updates on how he’s doing and take care of yourself, okay?”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Buck tells them gratefully, surprising both of them with a hug, before telling Chris to say goodbye and thank you.

With that behind them, the two of them make their way back to the ambulance. Hen is a little saddened that they can’t stay, but she gets it too. Their house is already slightly understaffed, they can’t really miss one person, let alone two. Still, she hopes Buck and his family will be okay.

Back at the firehouse, everyone surrounds them, asking if everything is okay and how Buck was doing, which they try to answer the best they can.

None of them had seen this reveal coming with the way Buck presents himself here, but Hen gets it. He hasn’t been here for long enough to fully gauge everyone and the LAFD is a space where there is also a lot of toxic masculinity.

She knows she’s a green flag for their house, but if Buck didn’t want to say, she isn’t going to judge him for it. It’s totally fine to want to be closeted, even if it’s an accepting environment. Maybe he likes to keep work and home separate, despite his oversharing tendencies.

But the cat is out of the bag now. There is no coming back from everyone standing in your living room as you comfort you son and swear at your husband to wake up. All Hen can do is press home not to ask questions unless Buck shares first. Just ask how Eddie and Chris are doing, don’t prod.

After hours of all of them continuously checking their phones when not on calls, their group chat chimes with a notification.

The message from Buck reads: Eddie is okay. More shrapnel removed and on antibiotics. Thank you all, also from Eddie and Chris.

He goes radio silent again after, but they don’t mind. He’s had an emotionally exhaustive day and they’re just glad to hear everyone is alive and well. It must have been scary for Buck too. So, they just reply with their relief and more well wishes, letting him be for now.

When Buck’s next shift rolls around two days later, all perk up as he enters the building. His eyes are tired, but he seems okay as he joins them at the table for their family meal.

“Hi, everyone,” he greets them. He pulls out a few drawings handing Chimney and Hen one and putting a third one on the table. “These are from Chris. As a thank you.” Then to Bobby he adds: “Uhm, I also want to thank you for giving me yesterday off.”

“Of course, kid. You needed to be with family,” Bobby says.

Buck blushes a little and nods gratefully, but stays quiet beyond that. There is something about his demeanor that Hen can’t really place, but like she told the others, she isn’t going to pry. If Buck wants to keep details about his family to himself, then that’s his right.

Before anyone else’s curiosity can win out, the alarm starts ringing again. As they all jump into action, Hen hopes it’ll be a more impersonal call. They’ve had enough family emergencies to last her a good time.

~~

A/N:

Shout out to honeyblooms on tumblr, who send me an ask with the idea of Eddie being hurt as a reveal, because it was a blast to write! Thank you :D

Also yes, I did not add in the whole Buck explaining everything bit, because I thought it would be a little funny for him to not really know how to bring it up after he gotten free to look after his husband, his family. So instead of his main verse shenanigans he is now stuck in this lie xp

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden Pt. 6 - The Weasley Twins x Reader

(Warning: this chapter contains smut (minors dni) with both brothers. Strictly with reader, no sword crossing. Don't read this chapter if that's not your thing.)

Other parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Those were the first words you heard, following the loud bang of your door flying off its hinges. Fred didn’t waste a moment before grabbing his brother by the shoulders and punching him square in the jaw. You screamed at the sound, pushing yourself back towards the wall. He landed a few more blows before George managed to throw him off. “What the hell are you on about?” “Are you daft? You’re in her bloody bed, George! What the hell did you do to her?” George grinned wickedly. “I fucked her, you twat. Or do you want the details?” Fred’s eyes darkened. “I’ll kill you. I will fucking kill you if you hurt her.” George took a step closer to his brother. “And if she wanted to be hurt? What then?” Fred finally cast his eyes towards you, scanning for damages. “I’m sorry, Fred. I should have told you.” He didn’t waste a response on you, storming off silently.

George did a rough wipe of his nose, clearing the stream of blood. “Fucking fantastic. Now I get to break the news to Mum about our soulmate with a broken nose.” Your face drained of color, every ounce of blood seeming to rush back to your chest. “What?” “You’re meeting our family today, princess,” George smiled bitterly. “They’re going to love you.”

The three of you arrived at the Burrow before supper time, luggage in tow for a weekend stay. George carried yours without a word. Fred still couldn’t look at you, his eyes trained on the door.

“No one speaks a word of this to Mum,” he said evenly. “We’re soulmates, we’re in love, and we’re happy. We can sort the rest of this out on Monday.”

Fred had barely rapped the door thrice before Molly yanked it open and pulled her son into her arms. “Hey, Mum,” he said into the fabric of her dress, still in her tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you, Freddie!” She pulled away from her first son and moved onto her second, pulling him into an equally crushing embrace. “You too, George!”

When she finally released George, her attention fell to you. If she hadn’t been missing her sons so much, hadn’t hugged them so quickly, she would have seen it sooner. Her jaw fell slack as she laid a gentle hand on your face, right over Fred’s soulmark.

“She’s mine, Mum,” he smiled, though you could tell it was tinged with sadness. He placed his hand where his mother’s just was - where it fit perfectly.

Fred finally introduced you to his mother - your name, your house, your family, though you found your attention crawling back to George, his golden mark still unnoticed.

“Let’s get you inside then, shall we?” Mrs. Weasley asked, pushing you towards the doorway. You had almost made it to the threshold when she yelped. Your head snapped back to her, holding George’s arm within her hands. “You too! Eighteen years without a match and suddenly both of my boys find one within the same month!” “Mum,” he begins, but she continues on. “Not a ring. Not an Owl. Not even a Howler! And you’re worse than your brother! Didn’t even bring them to meet me!” “Yes, I did,” he finally interrupted. “Excuse me?” “I did.” George drops both bags before walking to your side. You gently lift up your shirt, revealing a mark that matched the one on his forearm. “She’s mine, too.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Which was more than you, as you just stood there shellshocked and flushed. “Well, we better get you inside.” Mrs. Weasley wasted no time on preamble. She entered the home first, hands clenching together nervously. “Fred and George are here,” she announced quickly. Mr. Weasley’s head finally peaked around a corner, smile wide on his face. “With their soulmate. Both of them. One soulmate.” “Right,” Mr. Weasley spoke, scanning between the three of you. You focused your attention on his bow tie. “The more the merrier, as they say. Or less. I’m not sure what to say in this situation.”

George’s mouth set into an even line. “Where do you want me to put these, Mum?” he asked, lifting the luggage slightly. “Oh. I originally had Fred sharing with his soulmate, but seeing as she’s yours, too, I’ll have to make a few adjustments.” “It’s fine, Mum,” George smiled tightly. “Just lead the way and I’ll get it sorted. I know you were cooking before we barged in.”

George and his mum took off towards the stairway and Mr. Weasley quickly excused himself, leaving you alone with Fred for the first time since that morning. He didn’t speak. He refused to even look at you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For fucking my brother or hiding it from me?” His voice was stern and in that moment, he reminded you of George - the hatred he seemed to have for you to his very core.

You didn’t speak for a long pause. “I don’t know.” You should’ve been sorry for both. You should’ve been wholeheartedly apologetic for sleeping with his brother, but you couldn’t be. Your soul would never be complete without George’s. You were his as much as you were his brother’s. Regret and guilt and need mixed cruelly within you, begging for resolution.

“Don’t apologize until you know what you’re apologizing for. It’s not fair to either of us.”

He too, left, leaving you standing on your own in the Weasley's living room. Molly was the first down the stairs, thankfully alone. "Where'd Fred get off to?" she asked, making her way to the kitchen. "Not sure," you replied truthfully. "Just took off." She shook her head in disbelief. "Sorry, dear. You have me at least." You nodded. "Need any help?" She immediately handed off sets of plates and silverware.

“Ron and Ginny will be in tomorrow morning. My older boys should be in by that evening. Everyone was ecstatic about Freddie finding his soulmate,” he paused, pursing her lips. “I haven’t told them about George yet.” You straightened a set of silverware. “We probably should’ve warned you. I guess we just didn’t know how.” “I’ve just never heard of anything like this before,” she admitted, laying the final plate. “I hadn’t either. I don’t think I would’ve believed it if it didn’t happen to me.” “Don’t tell them I asked, but how did they react? Were they happy?” You paused, considering whether to omit the full truth. “Fred was excited, just happy we finally found each other, I think. George wasn’t as happy. Said ‘no one wants half a soulmate’,” you tried to shrug off your hurt, but it still stung. “Guess I can’t really blame him, though.”

She sighed softly. “That’s what worried me. The two have shared everything for all their lives. George has always been my more jealous son.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. “And now? Are you happy together?” she stopped busying herself for a moment, holding your hands within hers. “Do you love them?” You nod with clenched teeth, trying to stop tears from pooling in your eyes. “More than anything.” Molly smiled, a real one this time, and pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so glad, dear.”

It could’ve been awkward, dinner with just the five of you, but Molly refused to let it be. She carried the conversation, gracefully turning from subject to subject and expertly avoiding the whole soulmate talk. You were endlessly grateful for her, especially when you ushered you to bed directly after dessert. She shoved the three of you in, shutting the door quickly behind her. George immediately cast a silencing charm.

You couldn’t help but bark out a laugh when you finally saw the ‘bed situation’. Molly had shoved three beds against each other, spelling the sheets to combine into a large franken-bed. “I’ll just sleep on the couch downstairs. I can wake up early enough that no one will know.” George groaned. “I feel like we’ve had this argument before. You’re not sleeping on the floor, or the couch, or anywhere other than a fucking bed when you’re with us.” “That was before everything went to shit, now isn’t it?” you retorted, pushing the ginger in the chest. “And whose fault is that?” he shoved back. “You came on to me, asshole!” “And then you came on me. So you’re not scot-free either, princess!” “Stop calling me that!” you yelled, ready to charge for him before Fred held you back.

“You both need to calm the hell down,” Fred yells, too. “I don’t know if you both just love to hate-fuck each other, but I’m over it.” Fred throws himself down onto the springy mattress, cupping his face within his hands.

“I’m sorry, Fred,” you stated, pulling his attention once more. “I’m sorry for hiding my relationship with George from you. I should have told you as soon as I realized I had feelings for him, too. But I’m not sorry for those feelings. He’s my soulmate as much as you are. If you’re going to ask me to choose between the two of you, I won’t. I can’t.”

You had barely plopped down onto the couch downstairs when George scooped you back up and threw you over his shoulder. A few hits to his back were all you managed as to not wake up the entire Burrow. Your protests started once you were thrown back onto the bed. “You can’t just throw me around whenever you feel like it, George.” “You seemed to like it last night.” “Motherfucker, I will kill- ", you started, rising to your feet. Fred laid a hand on your chest, holding you from his brother. “Relax. No one’s killing anyone tonight.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. “Let’s just try to get some sleep. We can figure shit out in the morning.” “I’m not sleeping in the same bed as the two of you. We all know how the last time went.” “Freddie’s going to be on his best behavior this time,” George teased, climbing under the thick covers.

You began to retort, but Fred held you back again. “Not tonight.” Heat flushed to your cheeks as the fire in your chest reduced to embers. You climbed past him to the middle of the bed, trying valiantly not to touch either twin. In the middle of the mattress, you laid straight as a board, as still as a stone. You would not so much as lean in one of their directions. Sleep evaded you. To pass the time, you counted each divot in the ceiling. You were well into the hundreds when Fred finally spoke. “Do you love him?” Your body remained still as stone. “Yes.” A while passed before he asked his next question. “Do you love me?” Only a second passed. “Yes.” Under the blankets, Fred’s hand found yours. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

George was trying his hardest to pretend to be asleep, but you could see through him. The rises and falls of his chest were too uneven. With your other hand, you found his. Tears pricked at your eyes. “I love you, George.” He didn’t say anything, the only indication he even heard you the slight tremor in his fingers. “George, please look at me. I love you.”

He groaned, a deep broken sound crawling from his soul. He turned on his side, hand still clutching yours. Your tears fell freely, Fred’s hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you, too” he cried out. The mask was gone, leaving a broken, hurting George in its wake. “I hate how much I love you. I would die for you. Fucking hell, I would kill for you, love. I would snuff the life out of someone with one spell if they hurt you.”

You released yourselves from both of them and pushed yourself upright, facing both your soulmates. “I love you both. So much I think I’ll die if I’m without you. I’m yours - heart and soul.” You took Fred’s hand and placed it atop its matching mark on your face. He shuddered at the touch. George’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, holding you against him by his own mark. “My soul will forever be yours.”

You pulled Fred closer, kissing him hesitantly. After a moment, his hesitation faded and he kissed you hungrily, groaning at the touch. George peppered the back of your neck with kisses, holding you taught against his chest. Then, you turned to him, meeting your lips to his. Fred took your distraction to pull his shirt off, tugging on yours immediately after. George released you for a moment to help remove your shirt, then his. His lips were back on yours the moment they were off, relishing each soft moan he knew he caused.

Fred's hands wandered from your stomach to back, eventually unclipping your bra and throwing it across the room. You giggled, before turning your attention back to him. You pushed back into George's lap, who immediately held you firmly against him. Fred crawled to you, capturing your lips in his once more. You pulled at his jeans until he finally took pity and helped you take them the rest of the way off. He removed yours next and you shivered at the cold. You weren't cold for long before Fred pulled you against him, allowing George to remove his last articles of clothing. He was the first fully bare, and sprawled himself against the headboard, waiting for your attention to return to him.

It quickly did. Fred bit your earlobe before whispering into it. "Go over to him." You crawled over to him, straddling him. Only the thin fabric of your underwear separated him from you. The sound of Fred ripping off the last bit of his clothing filled the air before he sank back into the bed behind you. His hands canvassed your form, touching every inch of you.

Slowly, you began to rock against them.

George immediately grabbed onto your hips, grinding you further against him. His groans were low and filthy, making your chest flush from nerves and need. You needed them both. And you needed them right fucking now.

You pushed yourself off of George and stared into his eyes, before turning to Fred. "I want you to fuck me." "Which one of us, baby?" Fred asks, already breathing heavy. "Both of you. I need both of you." "Okay, princess. Come here. You can put your mouth on me and Freddie can take you from behind," George suggested, pulling you back towards him. "He's never felt your pussy, baby. And I think he needs to." You nod, kicking off your last piece of clothing. You settle between his thighs, keeping your legs spread and ass up for Fred. His hands are already on you, running from your back to the bottoms of your legs. "Good girl," George praises. "Take me when you're ready."

You take his tip first, swirling your tongue around the head. “Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back. “You’ve been holding out on me, princess.” You smiled up at him, which pulled an even deeper groan from his throat. You took him deeper within your mouth, focused entirely on pulling more moans from him. Right now, with him beneath you, he was entirely in your control. An entire string of curses fell from his lips when you finally quickened your pace. His fingers sunk into your hair, surely pulling it into knots.

"Doing so good, pretty girl," Fred praises you, fingers running up and down your back. "You're gonna take me, too, now." You shudder in anticipation, widening your eyes while staring into George's. He used his leg underneath you to kick open your legs more, making it easier for Fred to push into you. He gave you no warning, sinking into you with ease. You moan onto George's cock, pulling an identical moan from him. "That's it, baby," Fred purred, pulling your hips back against him. "Feel so fucking good." The push and pull of Fred behind you cause you to take George deeper and faster, quickly bringing him to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth," George warns you. "And you're going to swallow it like a good girl, aren't you, princess?" You nod, fighting back the tears in your eyes from the pure pleasure. Fred presses a finger into your clit, forcing another moan out of you. "Shit, baby. I'm gonna cum" George warns again. "She's close, too," Fred adds. "Her pussy's fucking pushing me out." "Make her cum first," George orders, taking another fistful of hair. "Need to feel her moans." He pushes your legs apart once more, giving Fred a deeper angle into you. You grind your ass into him, allowing him to bottom out within you. The pressure on your clit deepens and you push into it, moans already spilling filthily from your mouth. "Fuck, that's it," George groans, fucking your face sloppily.

You push deeper onto Fred's hand the same moment he slams you into him, filling you completely. The pressure snaps, your orgasm overtaking you. Your vision blacks as pleasure rips through you. "Shit, she's coming," Fred groans, pace quickening within you. Your pussy squeezes around him, desperate to be filled by him. "Fuck," was the only warning George gave before shooting his cum to the back of your throat, fingers still locked in your hair. Your fingers dug into his thighs as you swallowed and licked the tip of his cock clean. "That's it, princess. I've got you," he praised, pulling you off of his cock and onto his chest. "Taking us so good. Just need to make Freddie cum now." "Shit, I'm close," Fred hissed through clenched teeth. "Flip her over. Need to see her when I cum." George obliged, easily flipping you onto your back. You leaned against him as he peppered kisses over your warmed skin. "Hey, pretty girl," Fred smiled, already sunk back into you. You smiled back at him, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. "She's gonna cum again," he said, pulling you further against him.

George pushed your head over, opening up your neck to him. He kissed and sucked and bit exactly where you needed him, pulling a new string of need that Fred immediately fucked out. Your back arched against George, who pulled you right back to him. "You're not going anywhere. Gonna cum again."

Fred pulled his finger away from your clit, causing you to whine. "It's okay, you'll like this even better," he smiled wickedly before whispering a wandless charm. When he pressed his finger back to your clit, it was vibrating faintly. "Holy shit," you gasped, pushing harder into him. Your pleasure was building again, and you needed him. Needed both of them. "Touch me," you begged George, looking deeply into his eyes. "Where?" he asked, eyes softening. "Everywhere," you begged, pulling him into a kiss. He obliged, positioning himself over your body. His left hand cradled your head while the other ran trails up and down the rest of you. "Good girl," Fred praised, pushing deeper into you. "Cum for me, baby."

The band of tension in your core snapped, every nerve in your body feeling its electricity. You tried to curl up within yourself, but both your soulmates held you firm. "Fuck, shit, fuck," Fred cursed, your orgasm drawing out his own. He pulled his hand away, removing the charm before pulling you against him. For a while, you sat like that, wedged tightly between both of them, with Fred still inside you. For the first time in your life, you felt whole. You'd thought you felt whole with each of them, but it was nothing like this. This was what everyone meant when they said it was just different with your soulmate. You could've spent the rest of eternity trapped within their embrace.

When Fred finally pulled out of you and the three of you fell against the mattress, they still refused to let you go. You fell asleep in the arms of them both - sated and so fucking happy.

***

(A/N: I had planned for this to be the last part, but now I need to write the rest of the family meeting the twins' soulmate. So stay tuned for part 7, hehe)

Taglist (sorry if I miss anyone): @rk-ceres @foji2000 @hazilyss, @f-e-222 @luthien-elvenia-asher @trashy-panda777 @rhunew @crossedskulls @shadowmoonlight0604 @mochiseni @jenniferpendragon @fonderaura @pyromaniac-fairy-of-water @theveiledlibrarian, @xmadigurlx, @maxsisly, @meg-cal, @ivseceret, @xlxnq, @hornyslasher, @slut4uconnwbb, @stardream14, @midwestemosblog, @tiaajosephin, @ari-sama21, @inkedeye2345, @ukai-hoe, @randomcreator-09, @liviacarol88-blog, @waywardhunter95, @jspidey5, @support-local-bands

[my-stories-vault]

WIP Wednesday.

Ooooh, this is so exciting! This is the first time I've been tagged for something like this - thank you so, so much for the opportunity @aylacavebear , this means a lot ❤️🫂!

Also, the WIPs I read above are so freaking awesome! Maybe it's amateur of me, but I'm so excited to be part of such a large and extensive fandom - a definite first for me, lol.

Um, so, an obvious choice would've been to go with my Purgatory Series or the Supernatural Wars, but I was gonna reveal my Goodbye Series anyway and I realised this would be a wonderful time for it! This series is also very close to my heart, and something I'm gonna publish after I finish posting the Purgatory Series. It's after two real persons I lost, and a medium of, perhaps, my rawest expression.

Below is an unedited version, so be kind; this is from two years ago . . .

You were going to get married to Dean Winchester after all. The Dean Fucking Winchester.

He was getting into a marriage with you.

Just the thought of it seemed far-fetched.

But here you were, after months of going from place-to-place, barely having any time to unwind as you finalized details for what you knew would be a wonderful wedding.

You hunted monsters for a living, and yet, this had seemed to be the most stressful thing of your life. You knew Dean had been just as nervous. But now that the day was finally here - and the excitement had officially overtaken the nervousness.

It was finally here! You were finally going to wed your boyfriend who you had known for ten years, dated for five and had been engaged to for one. You had come a long way, and your relationship had surely made a lot of progress - jumped over a lot of hurdles, and had managed to always come out stronger.

It proved to you, that love was an entity more powerful that any goddamn supernatural creature out there.

I would tag people but I'm almost to Friday now 😂😂. Also, the two people I most interact with till now are @aylacavebear and @zepskies - and they both have been tagged 🫠🙃.

WIP WEDNESDAY

(except Thursday, ‘cause yk, time zones)

Thanks for tagging me @zepskies - I hope it’s cool to start a new post. I can see this getting really long otherwise…

Break Me Down is in my sights even more now, and I hope to dive in real soon! I’ve always been a sucker for the happy family vibes - especially with the hero/rough and tumble types - give me a tough guy turned smitten any day.

As for me, right now To You I Belong is my focus. Seeing as it’ll be a while before we see reader’s pov, I’ll give you some of hers from chapter 16 which is where I’m at. That means more pregnancy feels 😘

—————————————————————

Time wouldn’t go any quicker, no matter how many times you looked up at the clock above the kitchen table. Your phone was the same, only you’d placed it in the pocket of your dress so as not to look at it. Worked a charm. That constant weighted reminder over your bump.

There was no point focusing on Dean’s last text. He’d promised he’d call after he spoke with the sheriff, and he hadn’t. Though at least he’d informed you it was something.

Your, Okay, might not have been the best response, but hey, you could’ve sent an angry face or an eggplant.

He was sorry? More people were missing? He was still with the sheriff? Actually it read, Sorry, sweetheart. Gonna be longer with sheriff. More people missing. Call you as dion as we’re done, but you got the gist of it, and you supposed that was okay.

He was an experienced hunter who knew what he was doing. Wasn’t like he was working alone. Sam and Eileen were there too, and they’d all keep each other safe. You just had to believe it.

So you continued to chop your banana into fine slices. Nutritious for the pup. How firm you hit the wooden board below the blade was on account of how hungry you were, and not for anything more sinister involving Dean’s knot.

—————————————————————

No pressure tags (who I don’t think have been tagged yet): @losers-clvb @ambiguous-avery @wchswift @jollyhunter @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth

[poppibranchlover]

Guys, check out the profile of Trolls Band Together in the Annecy website! 🤩🤩🤩

Note: If the link doesn't work, please look at the pictures that I've screencapped from the website below.

Catch the screening on June 15 at 5:00pm to 6:30pm! I can assume that maybe before or after this, the second trailer would most likely drop in! 😁

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF 2 MOVIE FLASHBACK SCENES LETS GOOO!!

(Original post @/Dawko on Twitter)

[lesbianfakir]

To elaborate on my ruekirtho throuple thoughts, sometimes I think about a world where their shared love for mytho brought rue and fakir together instead of driving them apart. They’re both incredibly lonely kids who have lost too much and, as much as they care for mytho, a heartless doll isn’t replacement for real human companionship. So they find each other.

Rue knows it will never last. No one beyond her Prince will ever love her. She sees the way Fakir throws rocks at the flock of crows that gathers around her. When he discovers her identity—and she knows he will discover her identity one day—they’ll go back to being enemies. He is the Knight and she is the daughter of the Raven, his killer. Still, it’s nice to have a friend even for a little while. So she lets herself forget. She forgets who, what, she is. She forgets that there was ever a before. She forgets that they won’t last.

Fakir knows there is something very, very wrong in Rue’s life. He sees the deep scratches that stand out against her almost unnaturally pale skin. She speaks in a hushed tone with a haunted look in her eyes when it’s time to go home. She won’t tell him anything, though. He doesn’t even know where she lives; it’s as if she disappears at the end of the day. He just hopes that one day, when it comes down to it, he’ll be able to protect her from whatever haunts her.

By the time the story goes into motion, the two, along with Mytho, are near inseparable. When Mytho begins regaining his heart, Rue and Fakir work together to put a stop to it. When Rue begins losing track of the days, feeling as if someone else is trying to claw their way out of her chest, she almost goes to Fakir for help. Almost.

It is, of course, Fakir who shatters the illusion that is Rue. Her one and only friend calls her an ugly crow, and in that moment she remembers what she is. What she’s always been. They’ve been enemies from birth. This “friendship” was nothing more than the a sad illusion created by a lonely girl—a girl who no longer exists. And she knows now, in her father’s absence, her “friend” will die at her hand. This is their fate and fate cannot be changed. Still, it was nice while it lasted.

[dammit-tazmuir]

Agreed, the most important part is enjoying it! Those of us studying the deep lore like a religion don't lose anything by other fans just being here for cool sword lesbians. There's room for everyone. 💖

That said, to reply as a deep lore studier here:

First thing's first!

Don't feel bad for not catching things. These books are literally designed in such a way that some details fully CAN'T be caught on a blind first read. Like, if someone is really really good at spotting clues, they might see what's up with Protesilaus and Cytherea in GtN from way off, or something. (One of my partners did that somehow but that's Not Normal lmao.) Someone might remember most of what was said about Gideon's birth at the beginning of GtN and slot that into late HtN reveals easier, etc.

But HtN is written in a way that tries to immerse the reader into Harrow's own confusion and shaky grasp on reality, so of COURSE it's hard to follow without knowing already. Nona as a protagonist is deeply uninterested in the "main" world plot a lot of the time, so a massive amount of developments in NtN have to be picked up and pieced together from offhand and background info.

And then there are "bonus" details that aren't vital or anything but can incite feral emotions if you catch them. My favorite go-to example is Gideon looking around G1deon and Pyrrha's living quarters in GtN. Ofc we didn't know in book 1, but them being the creators of the "arms look like swords" trial is denoted by Gideon's name in the note, the Second House emblem, "G & P", it being called Pyrrha's Trial in early HtN, etc; all that's just getting context later, normal, fair. The feral bonus is Gideon looking at the beds thinking, "the two people here would have been in proximity to wake if the other sneezed." BECAUSE,,, YEAH... Yeah they sure fucking were in proximity to Wake, weren't they. That very specific phrasing choice. Jod dammit.

ANYWAY.

Point is, it's not just extremely normal to not remember a lot after one read, it's literally not possible to catch everything. They're meant to unlock new layers on rereads— or from other fans on their rereads!

Even those of us in way over our heads are constantly learning from each other. One person will go "I can't believe I only just realized Harrow carrying Gideon's two-hander is meant to invoke Jesus bearing the cross" and a ton of people will go "wait holy shit you're right!" It's great because who needs new content (all of us but ssh) when the content you already have just keeps giving? It's definitely not a race or anything. It's something to chew on over time and savor.

All that said:

Some Resources

There's always the Locked Tomb Wiki of course!

If you didn't know, there are three short stories that you can read for free on the publisher's website! (I still need to read them myself whoops. I only know a little bit.)

The Mysterious Study of Doctor Sex focuses on Palamedes, Camilla, and Archivist Zeta (who makes an appearance at the end of NtN

As Yet Unsent is from Judith's perspective, deals with the time between GtN and NtN for her and Corona and Camilla, and gives context to Corona's feelings for Judith in NtN

The Unwanted Guest is Palamedes getting in Ianthe's (Babs's?) head during the duel in NtN

Tumblr user firstflower9 has extensive "Bibles" for Gideon the Ninth and for Harrow the Ninth. (I'm not sure if that's more in-depth than you're looking for atm but never hurts to offer.)

And I once typed up a more bullet point summary of Nona the Ninth, which you can find here!

And if there's ever anything specific you're curious about where to find, I'm sure tons of people (including me!) would be happy to explain.

Even in a fandom like this, some things you see might be popular theories or "fanon", like we don't have a ton of direct information on Anastasia, but people have strong feelings about her due to what little we do know, especially Alecto swearing the same oath (??? first we'd heard of it!) to Harrow at the end of NtN. (As best I can tell, it's popular to depict her with long braids because Mercymorn compared Harrow's appearance to Anastasia, Harrow is her descendant, a strong and secret connection is hinted at between Alecto and Anastasia, and Nona finds herself— that is, Harrow's face with long braids— beautiful, even though Alecto doesn't like her own body.)

Other stuff might be scattered, like I could tell you John first gives Harrow the crash course on Resurrection Beasts in HtN Chapter 2, but a lot of RB info comes from much more offhand mentions (lyctors mentioning old fights, etc) or from Varun's dialogues with Nona.

But it never hurts to ask!

And if asking and digging a lot just doesn't sound appealing to you, that's fine too. You can still be a valid fan with a casual level of interest. You don't have to be detail obsessive to BE a fan. The series is just super-crack for people who enjoy being that kind of fan. xD

genuinely dont think im made to be a tlt fan. like i keep seeing posts talking about all these things from the books and im left like ???When did that happen? i dont remember so much of it and i guess i didnt notice a lot but like? how are people over here with so much information about like the resurections beasts and anastasia and i barely remember about varun most of the time?

(can someone who knows things respond and maybe give some important bullet points? i rllly want to reread but i do not have the time right now)

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: The Lesser of Two (1.7, Thames, 1971)

"You don't understand, do you, you never did. People round here -"

"People! People are stupid."

"No, they're not, they're ordinary, they're just simple people."

[waitineedaname]

the dashboard osmosis has zapped your blorbos into my subconscious bc despite not having read a word of svsss last night I dreamed about a musical adaptation of it. thought you should know. (the dream musical kind of slapped btw)

OH MY GOD??? that sounds incredible holy shit now all I can think about is which scenes would make good songs. this is amazing omg I'm so glad my dashboard osmosis powers were strong enough to do this to you

[nevesmose]

My summer exchange fic is done! All set up in draft so tomorrow I'll do a last read through with fresh eyes just to hopefully catch any last mistakes and then submit it.