#prison 77

[zanephillips]

Miguel Herrán in Modelo 77 (2022)

[neovallense]

Modelo 77 (id., 2022)

[noga-pupa-twarz]

top nine first watches of 2023, tagged by @mushewhosta - thanks!

english titles in alt i watched a lot of great movies last year, my criterion for this list was how much they stuck with me

tagging: @tootiredtoosadtooangry, @lolacouldnotcareless, @joppingspree, @ichiswjuris, @chypeat, @popliar

[akuarchives]

Chapter 77

[beerlula-00]

Nolol har iyo habeen kala dooraneeysid jiro iyo gaajo

A life in which every day and night, you have to choose between sickness and hunger

- Maxbus nr 77 by Bile M Hashi

[reiderwriter]

She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you. 

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't. 

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last. 

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison. 

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty. 

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave. 

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there. 

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him  and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it. 

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you? 

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then. 

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit. 

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left. 

And now you had. And it was his fault. 

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week. 

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you. 

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable. 

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last. 

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent. 

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew. 

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get. 

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support. 

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear. 

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again. 

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch. 

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could. 

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home. 

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore. 

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them. 

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood. 

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry. 

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention. 

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom. 

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying. 

You made 22. 

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things. 

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure. 

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears. 

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely. 

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him. 

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days. 

You hadn't counted. 

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be. 

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down. 

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that. 

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life. 

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up. 

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life. 

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again. 

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not. 

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories. 

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking. 

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door. 

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key. 

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment. 

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him. 

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him. 

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him. 

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.” 

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.” 

“It's been two months.” 

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.” 

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded. 

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.” 

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico. 

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding. 

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day. 

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew. 

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning. 

“Please don't say that.” 

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.” 

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along. 

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down. 

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes. 

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through. 

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer. 

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby. 

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her. 

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle. 

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil  and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent. 

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear. 

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her. 

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days. 

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.” 

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you. 

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself  though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down. 

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion. 

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things. 

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days. 

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it. 

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump. 

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands. 

He had a lead. He had you now. 

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open. 

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world. 

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left. 

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew. 

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life. 

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion. 

[littlexdeaths]

pushing up daisies - e.m.

kas eddie munson x fem reader

treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,

body bag, baby, i’m a goner…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

based on love is a… by pvris

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕

The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.

Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.

The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.

The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.

Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.

He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.

“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.

You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”

Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.

A memory that haunts your dreams every night.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”

A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.

The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.

You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.

“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.

Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.

Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.

Elizabeth Ann Munson.

Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.

While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.

“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”

Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.

In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.

Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.

A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.

You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.

Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.

“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.

“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.

As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.

This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.

While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.

This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.

If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.

“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.

You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.

The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t your Eddie.

A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.

“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.

But nothing happens.

You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.

“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.

“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.

“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.

When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.

“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.

“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.

“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.

“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.

But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.

“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”

Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.

“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.

You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.

Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.

The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.

“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.

The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”

His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.

He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.

Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.

The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.

There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.

The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.

“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.

He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.

“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.

“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.

Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”

“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.

He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.

Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.

Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.

Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.

You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”

The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.

“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.

His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.

“I love you.”

Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.

The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.

But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.

“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.

A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.

“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.

“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.

You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.

“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.

The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.

tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites

[freakygirlie]

loustat post paris is actually so fucking funny. lestat is like im gonna hole up in this rotting shack and im going to let louis live a lie and stay with this gremlin forever. only i know what happened and it satisfies me. when he finds out the Truth he is going to be Sooo Pissed and it'll be great. louis is like i am going to be with a man i am not in love with and find kind of boring and im going to live with him in what is essentially a prison for 77 years purely just to spite you and induce hatred in you. you will seethe and rage and it will feel Amazing to me. none of them are happy and both of them think they're winning. fucking losers. iwtv is the biggest comedy show ive ever seen

[soliloqueeer]

I always thought that one of the central issues in Louis and Lestat's relationship in New Orleans was the stark imbalance of power between them.

Lestat was Louis's murderer, maker, lover and co-parent. As a much older vampire, he possessed greater strength as well as all the powers and wealth passed down from Magnus. He knows about the larger vampire world and the Great Laws and withheld this knowledge from Louis out of fear of abandonment and arguably to maintain the power he held in that relationship.

However, by their reunion in 2x08 Louis has been building a life for 77 years (albeit much of it in the prison of Armand's making). During this time, he created his own fortune as an art dealer. In the 1970s, we see that Louis has embraced a hedonistic lifestyle, indulging in sex and drugs, mirroring the way Lestat lived when he was first turned.

Meanwhile, Lestat spent most of those 77 years languishing in New Orleans. He lived as Louis once did during the worst years of their marriage: depressed, in squalor, feeding on rats, and depriving himself of pleasures out of shame and punishment. Though Lestat remains a more powerful, older vampire, his 77 years of stagnation and self-neglect have certainly diminished his strength and vitality.

It makes me wonder what their relationship could look like when they join together as different people, who've lived separate lives, and who are closer to equals than ever before.

[octopus-punching-union]

I'm writing this up for the second time since Tumblr ate my post :( so this probably won't be as much detail this time around.

The darker side of Darkwick

There's been a lot of allusions to shady stuff and harsh punishments at Darkwick since the very beginning, and it was so satisfying to see it come together this chapter. Quick recap of what's happened so far—

Haku gives some omimous warnings about harsh punishments when MC is trying to run away. He mentions Articles 77 and 78 (which are more fully explained in the Hotarubi chapter) and that ghouls can be punished for taking any actions outside of their missions.

This is constantly backed up since the very beginning. MC not being allowed to go home even briefly. Permits are required to leave campus and it's not unusual for recreational permits to be denied. Even with a permit, you can't be out at night unless it's for a mission. Stopping to get a snack while on a mission is potentially grounds for punishment. Entire Houses get punished for the misbehavior of a few people, and a House can be blanket banned from leaving campus.

When MC returns after that escape attempt, Kaito is upset as he's just now realized that he could be punished as an accomplice. Up until this point, he's been sympathetic to MC wanting to go home.

Haku also reminds Rui of the dangers of deviating from the mission and it seems that Rui is subject to particular restriction and surveillance. He says that a punishment would be particularly bad if Rui was involved.

Haku makes an odd comment like "since there's a chance we'll go home after graduation." Combined with Ritsu's comment about the Laurel Crown being the best way to get independence from Darkwick... I have a lot of thoughts about this and will write up a separate post later.

Budgets are fucked up, with Haru personally responsible for funding repairs to Jabberwock. (I'm also gonna write a separate post about this later.)

On to the new stuff from Hotarubi chapter—

We learn that Darkwick has a secret prison which was run by Ultio, one of the defunct houses. Lyca is being held there due to prejudice about him being part werewolf. He was imprisoned while being investigated for murder, but despite the discovery that he is innocent, he is still locked up because he could potentially be dangerous.

Articles 77 and 78 are explained. They allow for the imprisonment of ghouls who deviate from their missions and anomalies that are deemed too dangerous to society. Lyca is being held as a dangerous anomaly because he is part werewolf.

Subaru's first mission at Darkwick was to kill Lyca. He apparently decided to investigate instead and attempt to prove Lyca's innocence. He has been petitioning for Lyca's release, to no effect.

(This makes me wonder if Subaru was always in Hotarubi? The facility was being run by Ultio at the time, and why would they bring in someone from another house to kill a prisoner? If the initial mission was investigation using Subaru's unique stigma, it would make sense to bring him in from outside. But Lyca says that he knew Subaru had been sent to kill him from their first meeting. Related, Subaru also says that he and Zenji have been in the same house since first year, but he does not say that they were always in Hotarubi.)

We also get confirmation that there were multiple fatalities during the Clash. Zenji, who was killed by a rogue anomaly and is now back as a ghost, wasn't the only one who went "past the point of no return."

Finally, when MC and Haku go to the Chancellor and Moby to ask for Lyca's release, they are both very against it. The Chancellor starts to say, "What if we have another case of a ghoul—" but is silenced by Moby. Moby also seems like he's kinda threatening Haku in this scene.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Chapter 105.5 Thoughts: Control, Manipulation and Partnership

Or, how Chuuya is actually the most qualified character to land a victory over Dostoevsky.

I just want to preface this with: I think Chuuya has woken from the brainwashing. We can't see his eyes, he's holding his hat again, and look at the progression of his face and expression from the last few chapters with him (these are in order btw from left to right).

I'm not completely sure how he did this, but I chalk a lot of it up to sheer stubborn determination on Chuuya's part, mostly because it's funny and he was clearly fighting back before Dazai's speech. However, I find it likely the speech did contain some kind of code - others have pointed out how "Goodbye!" might be a reference to the original author's last unfinished book and we know skk's codenames for things generally are based off their real counterparts' works so, maybe he'd already broken out of it, maybe there was something in there that gave him the final push - who knows at this point honestly? Either way, it means Chuuya had the capacity to break out of the vampire curse on his own and that's incredibly funny to me for many reasons but mostly:

Fyodor: "Bold of you to assume Chuuya's ability can't overcome flooding."

Dazai: "Bold of you to assume Chuuya's personality can't overcome brainwashing."

But really, this highlights something interesting here, both in what Chuuya's role is ultimately intended to be in this arc, and in the way Fyodor and Dazai manipulate and value others in very different ways.

I've said it before but it bears repeating: we already know that Fyodor is an excellent long-term planner, while Dazai is effectively able to counter him because Dazai shifts into thinking like his opponent. They're foil characters for a reason; they're both highly intelligent, manipulative, and willing to play the long game for the sake of winning against their opponent.

Thing is, I also stand by the idea that personality-wise, they're not similar at all - and that has serious implications for the people they are connected with. The build-up to the prison escape arc really highlights this. Some examples:

Chapter 46: Fyodor believes that all people are sinful and foolish and that his goal is to remove sin. Dazai believes that all people are sinful and foolish but asks what's so wrong with that.

Chapter 64: They decide to have a "super-happy chit-chat" about their problems. Dazai's solution to Fyodor's issue with his lazy subordinates is to get them to think lazing around is a bad thing so they will put in effort of their own. Fyodor's solution to Dazai being unable to woo the waitress is to isolate her from her job, house and family so that she can only rely on Dazai.

Chapter 77: Fyodor believes god is perfection and harmony, and thus that the people capable of change are the superior ones with most control. Dazai believes god is the accidental and illogical and believes it is the ordinary people who fight and live in that uncertainty who create the greatest change.

So, what's happening here? Fyodor's manipulation is shown to be very exacting and direct. He leaves no room for error and regards people on a hierarchy - God above all, himself as a servant of God's will, and the sinful and foolish humans he has little regard for. Dazai's manipulation involves manipulation of the situation, and is often indirect. It involves people coming to the conclusion he intends for them to on their own. And from his later dialogue with Sigma, we see he doesn't regard the world in that same kind of hierarchy.

Now, look at the way Fyodor picks an item and Dazai picks a person when starting the game. Look at the way Fyodor refers to Chuuya respectfully but brainwashes him entirely and mocks Dazai for not being worthy of "using" his ability. Look at the way Dazai is a complete ass to Chuuya but ultimately lets him make his own choices (begging people to take note of that moment in Stormbringer where Dazai cuts himself off to correct his referring to Corruption as Arahabaki's true power to Chuuya's true power).

So, the actual strength Dazai has over Dostoevsky then, is not really his strength at all, it's the strength of others and their choice and willpower to act in the way they believe is best. It's the only means of getting a leg up on Dostoevsky, otherwise they will continue to go around and around in circles forever.

And Chuuya is the best candidate for finally throwing Fyodor off his game.

Firstly, let's just establish something: no matter how mad he is at Dazai, he's not going to side with Fyodor, not willingly. Fyodor threatened the Mafia in the Cannibalism arc by attacking Mori, first of all. I doubt he's forgiven him for that. Secondly, Fyodor embodies everything Chuuya can't stand about Dazai, at the very least, younger Dazai - the manipulation, the lack of consideration and connection with others, the callousness and lack of regard for life.

Well, perhaps he's not quite as irritating. +1 point for Dostoevsky I guess?

But lastly, it is more advantageous for Chuuya at this point to help fight against Fyodor, especially since most of the Mafia has been vampirized by his organization. Helping the Agency stop the terrorist plot will help the Mafia by extension by undoing that. And we know from Stormbringer that no matter how much Chuuya is personally hurt, he considers taking out the threat to his people a higher priority. Always.

(You could make the argument that he was told whatever Teruko told Atsushi and decided to join, but not only do I find this wildly out of character, but if that was the case then there would've been no reason to brainwash him.)

That said, I don't think this was preemptive "Dazai's master plan #3057", and in fact, I stand by the idea that Dazai had no idea Chuuya was going to be in the prison. It is very, very important to me that for the rest of this arc, no matter what Chuuya does, that his actions are his own. Not Fyodor's, not Dazai's, but his. And not just because I hate that he's being controlled right now and that freedom of choice has always been important for Chuuya.

But because it makes narrative sense.

The vampires are a bit silly, yes, but they represent the way Fyodor and Fukuchi think - humanity will commit atrocities. They cannot be trusted to make their own decisions. They want to make a world that is free by... mind-controlling people so their plans work without a hitch. In short, they choose, on behalf of others, to sacrifice human autonomy for peace. So, if we are going to turn this arc around, we need to have characters breaking out of that control and thinking for themselves, in spite of the uncertainty of the outcome.

We already see this with Atsushi in the last chapter! He finally takes initiative and makes that choice to leave the room when he doesn't exactly know what the right thing to do is. And this is also why I don't think Teruko is wholly convinced by the DoA either - she lets him go. She gives him the freedom to choose what he does with that information.

Another one of the focus characters here is Sigma. Sigma is a guy who has no past, whose humanity is questioned, who keeps being used by organizations for his valuable ability, who has no home but desperately wants one... oh wait. Remind you of anyone's younger self? This could go one of two ways: Chuuya fails to assert his autonomy, leaving Sigma to learn from that failure, or, Chuuya succeeds in asserting his autonomy, leaving Sigma to learn from his success.

I think it, by necessity, has to be the latter. Sigma's at a tipping point right now, and I think seeing someone try to assert their freedom only to fail would damage him greatly. And I think it's a waste of Chuuya's character honestly.

Chuuya needs to assert his autonomy in this arc. Not just for thematic reasons but because I can think of no one else who can effectively break the "super-genius stalemate".

I keep hearing "Dazai knows Chuuya" in response to Fyodor calling their bond shallow, and that is absolutely true! But Chuuya also knows Dazai. Incredibly well. Odasaku knew Dazai's soul, but Chuuya knows Dazai's mind, knows his strategies and ways of thinking without even needing words. What's more, Chuuya has thrown off Dazai before and done what he didn't expect him to.

Which is nifty, because Dazai and Fyodor think a lot alike. Chuuya is in a unique position to thwart Dostoevsky because he may actually be able to predict him to a degree. Chuuya can absolutely land a victory against him, and it's excellent because it would be completely unexpected to Fyodor, who apparently thinks Chuuya's strength lies only in what his ability has to offer and not much else.

But listen. This also can't be skk's plan. I need Chuuya to sideline both of them. Both for the sweet, sweet catharsis of putting those two idiot geniuses in their places and also because I need Dazai to have screwed up. He wasn't wrong about people making their own choices in uncertainty. People need to assert their autonomy to create change. Dazai can't be wrong in this regard.

But with going ahead with the trap to drown Fyodor despite also having to drown Chuuya when he promised not to let him get killed... this needs to have been a mistake, otherwise the value of Dazai's emotional speech to him is diminished.

I want Dazai to try to laugh it off. I want him to say he always knew Chuuya would escape and then for Chuuya to deck him because "no, the fuck you didn't".

I really think Dazai hoped Chuuya would make it. Do remember that Chuuya was one of the first reasons young Dazai decided to try giving life a chance. The fact that he flashbacked to all his key memories with Chuuya says a lot. But his survival was no guarantee and it seemed very unlikely.

So, Chuuya is faced with the fact that Dazai nearly sacrificed him to kill Dostoevsky and save his new Agency friends.

And I hope he finally gets mad. I hope he finally expresses hurt on his own behalf for once. I hope they are forced to break their status quo that they have carefully maintained by not talking about anything ever. I hope they are pushed to uncomfortable places and that it is Chuuya who finally spurs this development.

Let Chuuya break the stalemate between Dazai and Dostoevsky. Let him shatter the status quo that him and Dazai have kept going for year after year.

Autonomous action in the face of uncertainty is necessary for change.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Initial thoughts on that article - I’m excited! I mean the journalist needs to do a bit more homework (I’m looking at you sentence about Eddie kissing Kim!) and I’m always going to take anything Tim says in an article with a giant handful of salt, but by and large all he said is telling me that the arcs for all our characters seem to be interesting and varied.

This got so very long so it’s going below the cut - but if you only want to read the buddie stuff then start reading where I’ve changed the text colour (so you can find it easily - because I’m nice like that!) 🐝🐝🐝

I love that Tim described madney and henren as being a family unit outside of the firehouse and I’m really excited to see that built upon - I loved that we got more hen and Maddie interactions last season and I want more of it. So I’m looking forward to seeing that dynamic develop as part of the Mara arc.

Ortiz hs so much potential to be a truly great villain - with a more sustained arc - something the show hasn’t ever really done and I’d like them to. Ortiz v Hen as a half season or more plotline would be so good and exploring corruption in politics and how it corrupts other public systems and services would be such a great thing to explore (and Aisha would knock it out of the park)

I’m going to say here that season 8 is very much screaming season 3 redux at me - all of the things we know thus far all seem to parallel season 3 events, even down to the bee-nado - which is starting to sound more and more like a mirror of the tsunami - in that the tsunami wave itself was only a brief thing, but the aftermath was where the major incidents and action was for all the various characters and the set up of their arcs. And Tim saying the bees set up I’m super excited for that as a concept.

Since we first saw them filming on a plane I’ve been wondering if we were going to be seen if another 70’s disaster movie homage and it seems I was right - my money is on Airport 77 being the movie in question

And I’m really interested in who it’s going to showcase and what part of her history were exploring. I would really love to see them exploring the Jeffery arc and her trauma from that, but I’m not sure that’s what we’ll be getting (Jeffery being dead doesn’t negate this exploring that part of her story I just don’t think it’s where we’re going)

My feeling is it’s connected into Emmett in some way. It was ‘resolved’ in Athena begins and then never really spoken of again, so maybe we’ll be seeing Dennis Jenkins (the guy who shot Emmett) as one of the prisoners on the plane and Athena will have to confront her remaining trauma there and possibly the damage arresting DJ has had after all that time he passed.

On to Bobby - what can I say technical consultant bobby is going to be perfection. Bobby has had some heavy arcs over the past couple of seasons so it’s pretty obvious he’s got the comic relief arc for at least 8a. I’m really looking forward to seeing Bobby being done with Hollywood etc. And I’m really excited to see how they get him back to the 118 where he belongs.

Onto the bit I know most of you are reading this for!!

The Buck arc is screaming lawsuit redux at me and that ties in nicely to Bobbys arc. Instead of Buck being stopped from returning to the 118, this time it’s Bobby. Gerrard is the Chase Matthew’s of this situation and so I remain convinced of my assertion that buck (having learnt from the lawsuit arc) is going to initially fail against Gerrard before he figures out getting close to him and therefore being able to figure out his weaknesses is the best way to get rid of him and get Bobby back.

The Buck T*mmy section in the article of it all has me laughing so very hard I nearly fell off my chair.

Look, this ‘relationship’ is still fairly new and they are still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase, so I wouldn’t be expecting Tim to start waxing lyrical about them as a couple, but saying this;

To describe the first queer relationship of one of your mains, whose entire storyline last season was his bi awakening, when it’s at the point when everything should still be new and exciting isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of said relationship.

It’s entirely possible to gush about a relationship - especially one that is essentially groundbreaking on your show - without giving any plot away or making it seem like they’re endgame.

More comfortable together is the only thing you could come up with to describe them as a couple? - what does that really mean? Comfortable is how you describe a pair of slippers or an old hoodie that’s all worn in and soft. If you’re using more comfortable as one descriptor in a longer sentence with other descriptors that shows the development of said relationship then that’s totally acceptable. But to use it as the only one (aside from saying they’re a couple), well that screams of a relationship that is a plot device.

And you know what else backs that up as a concept - Tim proceeds to use the rest of his answer to the question about Buck and T*mmy’s relationship to talk about Eddie and Eddie and Buck and their relationship. So what I’m getting is that Eddie is still at the centre of things within that relationship - just as he has been throughout the entirety of s7 - where Buck and Tommy managed to have a grand total of 3 scenes out of nearly 20 together where Eddie wasn’t either present or spoken about at length (and one of those was literally just a scene of them kissing!)

Even using the word comfortable again to describe Buck, Tommy and Eddie hanging out together (anticipating some sort of scene that echoes the karaoke bar scene - where we get petty jealous Eddie and I can’t wait!). Which means comfortable is a very intentional word choice - not one that bodes well for the longevity of the reltionship.

So what I’m getting from that. Is that ‘more comfortable together’ means boring and that Tim is using the relationship to create the same distance we saw between Buck and Eddie in season 3 during the lawsuit arc - the distance that ultimately brought them even closer together and led to Eddie changing his will.

Season 3 was when the show really established buddie as a thing - they lay the foundations in s2, but s3 was when they tested and then built the walls of that dynamic ready for the pieces to be put into place over seasons 4 & 5 so they could make buddie canon.

This BT relationship is literally being used to put Eddie in the same space he was in in s3 - isolated (thank you Ryan for that word choice!) because Buck is not available to him as much (or at all in the case of s3) so he spiralled out in his grief over Shannon’s death and joined a fight club.

All this to say that the chess pieces are being manoeuvred in a really positive direction on the buddie front and I expect to see 8a following a somewhat similar pattern as 3a did - big opening disaster which sets up the various arcs, which includes being shown buck and Eddie’s closeness initially, only to separate them off for a bit so Eddie can have his gay awakening (fight club minus the fight club) and Buck can do some more figuring out about what he actually wants of his own (lawsuit without the law suit) and then bring them back together in time for Christmas - which they will spend together with a newly returned Christopher (mirroring s3 Christmas perfectly) and the rest of the firefam.

Even the Eddie question backs up this as a theory;

I’m fully expecting to get Eddie having conversations with his parents - via call and FaceTime - but not with Chris because he still won’t talk to his dad. The choice to say everything has been stripped away from him except his job is also giving some echoes of s5 - juxtaposing when Eddie essentially had everything else except his job which lead to his breakdown. Tim is a master of deploying subterfuge whilst also using very intentional words - so this comment is making me excited. It’s (to me at least) saying that Eddie is secure in his job and there is not really going to be any drama on the job front. That in the past eddie connected his worth to whatever job he was doing (army, his three jobs in El Paso firefighter) so when the job was taken away he had no worth and that therefore meant he was a failure as a father and a husband - so he spiralled out. Now he has his job and he’s in a good place with that and knowing how his worth as a person isn’t tied into that job. Now instead he has nothing else - all the things he’d tied his worth onto away from his job are suddenly gone so he has to go back to the drawing board and this time look at himself and who he actually is and why he wants.

The choice of the word ‘hell’ is also a choice - ‘who the hell he is’ - season 7 laid the groundwork for edddies reckoning with the catholic faith (former nun Marisol, Eddie talking about being a lapsed catholic and catholic guilt and bobby giving Eddie the bible etc) and we know they’ve been filming in a church. Hell as a word choice is just backing that up and hinting at the idea that Eddie figuring out who he is and choosing living his life as his true self would damn him to hell in the eyes of his religion. So gay Eddie here we go!!

This was supposed to be a quick ‘ooh I’m excited everything is being perfectly set up’ post and then I did my usual thing and write a mammoth essay 🤣 so if you’ve read all of this - thank you and I love you and I hope you enjoyed it - can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

[louisarmands]

The Dark Gift

Summary and Notes:

What happened when Louis left Daniel in the penthouse with Armand. Apologies if this is messy, I wrote it very quickly. Feedback is appreciated. I love these two so much.

Word Count: 1376

 Louis was gone, and Daniel was alone in the penthouse. Alone with Armand. The room suddenly seemed larger, more empty. The stark white walls loomed over him, cold and imposing. A prison. A coffin. A tomb. 

He quickly put out the flames on his laptop with a blanket, the smoke stinging at his eyes. He shoved the smoldering hunk of metal in his bag, eager to get out of there like he had been warned. Louis had threatened Armand and told him not to touch Daniel but Louis was gone now. And what could an old man with Parkinson’s do against a 500-year old vampire? Gathering the last of his things, Daniel turned the corner to the elevator. 

And there was Armand. Covered in dust from the walls cracking from the force of Louis’s anger, his face bruised and bleeding. His brown curls framed his face in a halo. Even battered, he looked like a renaissance painting, a vision of graceful beauty. But for once, he didn’t look composed. He looked… broken. But under the surface, under his glassy amber eyes, there was rage. He was shaking with it. 

Daniel thought he looked small. Almost childish. 

“You know what will happen if you hurt me. You heard Louis. So are you gonna let me leave or what?” Daniel remarked, playing up his usual sarcasm even though his heart was beating out of his chest. And he knew Armand could hear it. 

Armand smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Hurt you? Oh Daniel, I would never do that,” Armand replied, stepping closer to Daniel, a wild look in his eyes.  

“If I wanted to do that I would’ve done it already,” he said, cold and calculating. Armand the snake. Armand the one who hides, the one who sits back and lets things happen. Armand, who was looking at Daniel like he was prey.

“So what, you’re just fine with me ending your 77 year relationship? With me exposing all of your lies?” Daniel scoffed, in disbelief that he wasn’t a melted puddle of bones already. Then again, Armand never was one for action. 

“Was it you who ended it? When I am the one who drives people away again and again? Over and over? When I am the one who lies for self preservation?” He said quietly, his eyes never leaving Daniel’s. He didn’t blink. 

Daniel was shocked at his… self awareness. He didn’t think Armand was capable of that. 

Armand continued. 

“I love them more than they love me, and every time I realize that, I try to hurt them. I take everyone and everything away from them so they only have me. So they rely on me. I give them everything, and it still doesn’t work. It never does,” 

Armand was breathing heavily now, a strange instinct for a vampire with no need for oxygen. His voice was quiet, but he spoke with a sense of mania that made the hair on Daniel’s arm stand up. This was a vampire on the brink of an explosion. 

Armand went on, incensed now. 

“Tell me, Daniel, why do you think I do this to myself? Am I broken beyond repair? Am I worthless?” He hissed, his fangs showing now, his eyes shaking, pupils blown wide. Gone was the angelic, statuesque, mild-mannered companion to Louis. This was a vampire. This was a monster. 

The mask had finally come off. 

Daniel backed away, speechless for once in his life. There was no witty one-liner that would save him now. 

Armand lunged forward and sank his fangs into Daniel’s neck. 

Daniel gasped, the pain like two white hot daggers slicing through him, his vision turning black at the edges. But as soon as there was pain, there was ecstasy. 

Daniel remembered 1973, how Armand had lulled him into a dreamlike state, whispering to Daniel, telling him he would be nothing, and Daniel had succumbed to his powers, floating on the bliss, allowing himself to be slowly drained.

This was nothing like 1973.

This was better than every drug Daniel had ever tried. Every time he had shot up with heroin, multiplied one hundred times. Every time he had been coked out in some dingy basement with god knows who, in screaming color. He could taste the high, he could see it, smell it. He felt like he was hundreds of miles above the penthouse, floating, flying, going the speed of light. 

He didn’t know if it was seconds or minutes or hours later when Armand pulled away. The vampire had Daniel’s blood on him, on his mouth, on his shirt, his neck, glistening crimson on his brown skin. His eyes were fixed on Daniel, a blissful expression reflected in them.

 Daniel thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

And then Armand took his nail and sliced his wrist open. 

“Drink,” he ordered, offering it to Daniel. 

Daniel finally spoke, his voice coming out hoarse.

“What? No. What the fuck, Armand?” He protested, reeling from the proposal.

He had thought that perhaps Armand was just desperate to feel anything other than the pain of losing Louis, and in his pain, he fed on Daniel.

He was wrong. Armand wanted to turn him. Armand, who had never made a fledgling. Armand, who was repulsed by the idea.

“Drink,” Armand insisted, backing Daniel against the wall. He held his wrist up to Daniel’s mouth. He was pressed against Daniel, his face an inch away from the other man’s. 

“You wondered how I taste. Now you have a chance to find out,” he breathed, eyes darkening. 

“Dying of a disease that has no cure, and you would turn down immortal life? You would deny yourself that? I can give you what you want. I can give you eternity,” Armand whispered, his eyes flicking down to Daniel’s mouth, his own lips scarlet with Daniel’s blood. 

In the coming days, weeks, and years, Daniel would try and fail to remember why he had done it. Why he had given in and taken the dark gift. In that moment, there was nothing else. There was just him, his body slowly failing him, and Armand, a vengeful Lucifer who had fallen into his path. There was only Armand.

He bit down on the wrist. 

The blood gushed into his mouth, and he balked, the taste at first metallic and unpleasant.

“That’s it, Daniel.” Armand murmured, his other hand reaching out to stroke Daniel’s face. 

And then Daniel’s vision went black. He was still drinking, but it no longer tasted like blood. It tasted rich and sweet and powerful and he couldn’t get enough. 

Images flashed through his mind, images of Armand. Armand as a young boy, running through the streets. Running from something. Armand in a dimly lit room, surrounded by men who leered at him, saying something in a language he didn’t understand. Armand being used, over and over and over again. Armand crying, his body broken and bruised. Armand being turned by Marius. Armand in pain. Armand in Paris, with the coven. Armand with Lestat. Armand with Louis. Armand’s emotions crashed into him like a wave, the churning sea of five hundred years of memories drowning Daniel, making him gasp and choke on it. 

Daniel ripped himself away from Armand’s wrist, sickened by the images he had seen.

Armand stared at him, horrified. Daniel somehow instantly knew Armand was aware of everything his blood had shown Daniel. 

Daniel felt alive. Suddenly all of the aches and pains that came with old age were washed away. His eyesight was clear. His senses were heightened, the world around him suddenly in high definition. He opened his mouth, feeling his sharp fangs pierce his bottom lip. 

He was a vampire.

“Why?” Daniel whispered, aghast. 

“Why did you turn me? You said you never would. You said it repulsed you.”

Armands face crumpled. For the first time since Daniel had known him, he was crying, bloody tears streaming down his face. 

“I wanted… I wanted you to see me,” he said, his voice breaking. “I wanted you to see me as no one else has. Only you.” 

And then, faster than even Daniel could see with his new abilities, Armand was gone. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

[flaetsbnortoriginals]

I've just had a dream that was so steeped in Magic: The Gathering lore that I need to post it to tumblr on the off-chance that people who know enough to understand it will be able to read it, because if I tell it to the people I usually tell my dreams to they won't understand a dang thing. Sorry @one-time-i-dreamt

So. The dream was in Ravnica, and was about this planeswalker lady. She was white, with long straight blonde hair, and a fancy blue dress. I have the feeling that I was dreaming I was her before my dream remembered I'm a boring cis man without any amazing powers so as far as I can recall I'm just following her, like the main character of a story. I'm not sure I should call her my OC since she was created without any prompting of my conscious mind but none of the characters in the dream have names so I'll call her that.

OC was walking down a boulevard in Ravnica with this dude. They were pretending to be a couple, but the dude was actually a Dimir spy she had bested and was kind of her prisoner. Dimir guy wasn't very happy about it but wasn't too angry either, he saw his "custodianship" as a work thing and kind of respected OC, so they were chill.

OC saw a woman who she realized wasn't from this plane, although she was pretending to be a local. She challenged Dimir guy to point out what made them realize this. Now I expected this to go like a Sherlock sequence, with each one pointing out a detail in the woman's outfit or some very precise behaviour. Instead, OC starts by pointing out that this woman is wearing

A FRIGGING BRIGHT BLUE SOCCER JERSEY

and not only are soccer jerseys not usual clothes in Ravnica, (at least not until Hooligans at Rakdos Stadium is released), but it also has a giant number on it (77 if you're curious), except that Ravnica uses a different writing system, so any planeswalker would immediately clock her as an outsider. (I think that it's only sort of implied that each plane uses a different writing system, but in the dream that was settled truth.)

OC is so apalled at how poorly this woman - who needs a name, so I'll call her BadKellan for reasons that will soon become apparent - is at hiding herself, she decides to have a word with her. BadKellan realizes she's being followed and hoofs it - but OC and Dimir guy immediately use their Dimir crap to become invisible. BadKellan thinks he's shaken them off, but she's quite rattled, so she goes to her safehouse, which happens to be just around the corner. OC and Dimir sneak in behind her, then make themselves visible.

Now I should tell you that Dimir Guy does nothing else in this story. I was going to say that he's just Ken, he's just there, but it's actually worse - his presence makes the story make no sense, since OC is about to reveal some secrets to some random lady. But the dream didn't forget him: I vividly recall that he was still around all throughout this part of the dream, even though he does nothing else.

So. OC reveals herself and tells BadKellan that what she's doing is very dangerous. She tells her about the Dimir (the guild, not the random guy) and says that if they see her poorly sneaking around and think she's going to be trouble, or even can't figure out what her deal is, they're just going to kill her. Which means it's incredibly dangerous for her to go around like that.

BadKellan reveals a few things about herself. She's from Earth - yes, our real world. She's not a planeswalker. She was brought to Ravnica against her will and told to blend in and pretend to be a local. She doesn't feel comfortable revealing who told her to do that.

OC decides to give BadKellan a few pointers on how to lay low on Ravnica. She explains that she would dress mostly in gray, since colours are strongly associated with the guilds and she should stay away from them to stop making waves. She asks her to change her outift and she'll say if it draws attention.

BadKellan changes clothes. She's now dressed entirely in gray, which is good, except that her shirt

HAS A LARGE, GLITTERING PRINT ACROSS THE FRONT READING

girl

IT'S THE EXACT SAME THING AS BEFORE. IT'S A LARGE PRINT USING OFF-PLANE SCRIPT. It's not as large as the jersey number, sure, but I'd like to remind you that it's glittering!

OC is apparently as taken aback by this as I am, because she turns her into a squirrel.

In fact, she specifically turns her into the squirrel from Bloomburrow key art.

OC's logic is that BadKellan is so bad at blending in that this is the only way she can be safe. OC intends to release "squirrel girl" in a park while she tries to look into exactly whose plans she just ruined and how bad of an idea it was.

There was more to this dream, but my memories are fuzzy and it's (even more) uninteresting. I think it involves the Boros having a special currency that they gain when they help people but the Dimir also use it in a kind of ironic way? I don't remember.

[beerlula-00]

Ma nin carruurtiisa gaajooneysaa qorraxdu gubtaa?

Does a man whose kids are starving feel burned by the scorching sun?

Ma wiil waalidkiis sheyb yihiinbaa qorraxdu kartaa?

Does a son whose parents are old feel fazed by the scorching sun?

- Bile M Hashi, ‘Maxbus nr 77’

[mareastrorum]

if essek did it, why do you think he did? i'm at a loss as to how it would benefit him to give her a shiv. (hope my tone doesn't read hostile, i'm genuinely confused)

I haven't taken any of the asks as hostile, so no worries!

The short answer is that Essek would have benefited whether the Scourger succeeded in killing Caleb or not. Longer answer:

To begin with, let's set the stage. In episode 56, the Nein had handed over the beacon, and in 57, the Bright Queen awarded them with emblems that represented their status as heroes of the Dynasty. It was only after the Bright Queen elevated their status in front of the entire court that she assigned Essek (without asking first) to be their "steward" for the time being, including the responsibility of seeing as to their lodgings.

The Bright Queen is clever. She certainly considered that maybe this was a ploy from the Empire to insert spies into her midst, especially because only one of two beacons was returned. From her perspective, assigning her most trusted spymaster to keep an eye on these idiots is exactly what she should do. If they're plants, Essek would sort it out. If not, they were highly valuable assets that could be used against the Empire or as liaisons.

So, let's orient this from Essek's POV. This bunch of chucklefucks that don't know court decorum came into the queen's throne room, intending to ask a favor in exchange for ridding Asarius of a demon infestation. Then a rival noble calls them out for attacking him and other Kryn outside of Asarius. Just before they're arrested, the human (ginger with blue eyes, a Zemnian) pulls out a beacon of the Luxon, announces that he and his friends are not friends of the Empire, and then offers it to the Bright Queen. Now they're the queen's favored, and out of all the people at court that day, she chose Essek Thelyss, the Shadowhand, in charge of the Dungeon of Penance, to keep an eye on them.

But Essek is the one that stole the beacons. He realizes the same possibilities (spies or well-intentioned rubes), but if anyone in the Dynasty knew about the Volstrucker, it'd be Essek. There is no reason whatsoever for Essek to trust the Nein because those beacons were supposed to stay in the Empire. The reason he handed them over in the first place was that he was supposed to share in the research done by incredibly powerful wizards who did not care about the religious significance. Whether Essek knew or not that one had been lost by the Assembly, the Nein's act of returning one negatively impacted the deal he made. There's the possibilities that Ikithon and the other Assembly members betrayed Essek by lying or hiding information, or perhaps they sent the Nein to expose Essek as the traitor to remove a loose end, or perhaps the Nein really are ignorant and they could gum everything up. Regardless of which situation this is, the best outcome for Essek would be neutralizing the interlopers before they come upon, intentionally or not, his involvement in the theft of the beacons.

The problem, of course, is that the Nein are Heroes of the Dynasty, and since Essek is responsible for their care in the Dynasty, failure to safeguard them would also reflect badly upon him. That could also sabotage his position and ability to do the research he pleases. So he can't just kill them. He has to get them killed in a way that would not make him look bad, preferably in a way that scapegoats someone else for the inevitable blame at failing to protect them.

The condemned Scourger attacked Caleb in episode 77. None of the events between Essek's introduction and that point provide a reason for Essek to trust the Nein regarding his personal risk as a traitor to the Dynasty. Here are his subsequent appearances and what happened:

Episode 57: Essek lets Yeza out of his prison after the interrogation yields information on DeRogna's research of the beacons (the potions Yeza made) and that she took the beacon back two days before the attack, which was shortly before the Nein arrived in Felderwin and began heading to the Dynasty. Because of the timeline of events, Essek realizes that must be the second beacon, so now both are accounted for. This also lets him know what sort of research they did with that beacon, and since Yeza only saw one, the one the Nein returned must have been used for something else. This is great intel for Essek, but not a reason to trust the Nein--only to find them useful.

Episode 61: After the Nein report back to Professor Waccoh of their completion of her mission, Essek arrives at the Inn where he lodged the Nein and escorts them to the Thelyss estate that his den has secured for them. Notably, the work they did was not for Essek; they worked for Waccoh and were paid for the trouble. That just proved they're capable mercenaries.

Episode 62: Essek visits the Xhorhaus after the Nein have settled a bit. He's rather cold: declines offer to join for dinner, declines a drink, has to be persuaded to answer why he isn't familiar with the neighborhood, doesn't want to say where he lives, repeatedly says he wants to get back to his research, etc. It's only once Caleb starts discussing magic and how he wants to learn that Essek starts the game they play about trying to get info from the other without divulging anything useful. Essek requests something impressive for the chance he might teach Caleb something. He then asks questions when Caleb shows off his familiar and giant earthen cat paw:

Essek was flat out rude to Beau, and this was before the whole "White Xhorhasian" drink faux pas. But even with an unimpressive persuasion roll, he offers Caleb a choice of the types of spells he could learn and even lets Caleb handle and read the book himself. Again, Essek has no reason to trust the Nein at this point. This wasn't because he believed or trusted Caleb--Caleb didn't persuade Essek of shit. Essek was fishing for information. He was already going to teach Caleb something, and the persuasion roll was probably to see how many spell levels he'd get. What spells does this Zemnian that stole a beacon from the Empire want to know? Would he give into the temptation to read elsewhere in the book? Caleb chose "the bending of fate, destiny" and learned Fortune's Favor and Gift of Alaracity. Essek is slightly less rude to the Nein as he leaves, probably pleased that he learned something useful in exchange for low-level dunamancy spells, plus now Caleb owes him a favor. Favors are a great way to set up the Nein for whatever scheme he intends later.

Episode 63: Essek is present in the Bright Queen's throne room when the Nein report their findings from the Overcrow Apothecary to her. During this conversation, Caleb admits to the Bright Queen that he had received some training to become a Scourger, though he did not complete it. When Essek is asked if he believes them about the cult of the Angel of Irons, he says he does, and even says he trusts them, though he declines to join them on this quest. Essek has not had any reason to trust the Nein by this point. He flat out lied. Even Fjord commented "'Cause he's been checking on that shit," because he and the others felt Essek was likely keeping an eye on them via Scrying (since they discovered hovering orbs in the Xhorhaus). Maybe their strangeness and civility (even if a little racist) made them endearing, but that's a different issue from trust. Essek wants them to chase down this cult precisely because it is dangerous and could get them killed. All the better that they die in service of the Dynasty, because then he won't be blamed for something sanctioned by the Bright Queen herself.

Episode 65: Jester sends to Essek asking about the Arbor Exemplar in the Barbed Fields, and while she asked for more, he only provides the name, notes it's dangerous terrain, and says they're doing him proud.

Episode 70: When the Nein return to Rosohna and report to the Bright Queen, Essek is again in the throne room. Before Essek is singled out, Caleb requests from the Bright Queen more training from Essek and info on the newly captured Scourger (which they just learned about, and Caleb suspects is Astrid). The Bright Queen says that the Nein haven't quite earned that much trust yet. Once Caduceus explains that the Nein want to fast and safe travel to the Flotket Alps, Essek makes himself known and offers to take them there, again declining to do more than transport them. Essek does not accompany the Nein to see the Scourger, but considering it's his dungeon and he is a spymaster, he was probably Scrying or otherwise tracking what transpired. Of course, it turns out that she isn't Astrid. Later, Caleb returns to the Lucid Bastion and waits to speak to Essek. Caleb confirms he was not actually a Scourger, but knows some about them. Caleb also requests a chance to speak to the Scourger again, even if Essek is there, and that they not accelerate the execution. (He didn't even ask for a delay.) Essek says he'll see and leaves.

Sidebar: Essek absolutely wants intel from this Scourger. He would know they report to the Assembly, and he would not know whether they are aware of his deal with the Assembly. As a condemned captive, her word against his isn't going to mean anything anyway, so the potential of the Scourger outing Essek is practically nil. Thus, there isn't any real risk at letting the Scourger say whatever she wants to say to Caleb. If anything, observing undetected meant better intel.

Episode 71: Jester sends to Essek, who arrives with an armed guard (weird) to teleport the Nein to the Flotket Alps. Before they go, the Nein left ball bearings on the ground to see if Essek floats (he does) and then pretend to berate Dairon, their "housekeeper", for leaving them out. Essek seems to find the whole thing amusing, then teleports them. They got a mishap because of the roll, but then arrive in the mountains. Again, stuff that could be endearing, but why did Essek have an armed guard...? That's so weird.

Episode 72: The Nein poke a little fun at Essek for the mishap, but he leaves via a Teleportation Circle.

Episode 73: Caleb asks Jester to Send to Essek to ask about the status of the Scourger's execution date, but Jester instead requests a delay. Remember how Caleb didn't request a delay before? Now he's requesting a delay indirectly; he didn't even ask Essek himself. (Man, that would seem rude from Essek's POV.) Essek responds that he'll try, but notes his den has no further interest in keeping the Scourger alive. When Caleb asks Jester to pass on that he might be able to help because of his history, Essek responds the same, but cracks a joke since Jester ended with "You pooping?" Essek's trying to endear himself to Jester, but we can't conclude whether it's sincere or subterfuge. After all, if she told anyone he joked, he could easily deny it. That was specifically for her.

Episode 74: The Nein send to Essek and ask him to come to the Xhorhaus so he can teleport them and meet someone. They briefly discuss the Scourger, and while Essek managed to get an extension of 2 weeks on the execution, he needs more of a heads up for Caleb to visit the Scourger again. Caleb then says here is a formal request, and Essek says he'll deal with that arrangement then. They introduce him to Reani, he dispels an enchantment on a paper hiding some items, then he teleports them to Mythburrow. At the end of the episode, Matt notes they're racking up quite a debt to Essek.

Let's pause there.

Each prior time the Nein went to the Dungeon of Penance, it was impromptu. They had just been announced as Heroes of the Dynasty when Essek personally took them to the dungeon to see Yeza as their first stop. The Nein were permitted to visit the Scourger unescorted as soon as they learned about her. Now there needs to be notice? It couldn't be because of the execution because the Bright Queen mentioned to begin with that the Scourger would be executed. There was no change of plan other than the extension that the Nein requested only a day prior. Why would Essek need to give anyone notice about someone visiting a condemned prisoner held in the prison that he manages?

Probably to make sure that Scourger has a fucking shiv.

Episode 75: At the beginning of the episode, before returning to Rosohna, Essek notes the Nein are ridiculous, tells them to have fun, and even calls them "friends." Again, that makes him seem endearing and less formal, but it's done out in the boonies. If any of them tried to tell someone from the Dynasty that he had done any of those things, he could probably deny it. So his reputation is safe, and it makes it seem like he likes them.

That's twice now he's been nice without any reason to trust them. Hmmm, sure seems like building some plausible deniability to me.

Episode 77: Jester summons Essek to the Xhorhaus. They discuss that the Bright Queen would like the Nein to find where the remaining beacon is in the Empire. Caleb attempts to fish for whether any particular Assembly members come to mind that Essek wants investigated, but he replies that he could list all of them if Caleb likes. Beau's insight check to see if Essek is sincere about ending the conflict fails. Caleb attempts to fish for a last known location of the beacon, and Essek gives an unhelpful answer that it must certainly be moved frequently. That's Essek being rude; they already know the beacon was last seen in Felderwin because Yeza said DeRogna took it from there 2 days before his capture by the Kryn. Essek is being intentionally and obviously obtuse. Fjord asks if others are on this quest, and Essek answers yes, but declines to give the Nein a way to identify them. Then they bring up the condemned Scourger, and Essek only recommends speaking to her soon; no specified date. Caleb asks if that day works, then Essek assents and offers to escort him.

That sure is a suspicious moment to suddenly decide to be helpful, isn't it? Sure is weird that he went back to being rude after being openly amiable and even joking with them, isn't it?

Then, when they arrive at the prison:

That is a really weird thing to say after the Nein were permitted to visit this same prisoner unescorted without notice as soon as they learned about her. Of course, then the attack happens. Matt doesn't mention whether Essek entered the cell before, during, or after Caleb starts talking to the Scourger, but Essek kills the Scourger after the attack.

Looking back at all the events that occurred leading to this point, Essek has not had any reason not to think that the Nein are somehow working for the Assembly or otherwise would expose him to the Bright Queen if they discovered what he had done. The key issue is that if the Nein placed their loyalties to either the Empire or the Dynasty over their loyalty to him, they could ruin him. That circumstance hasn't changed by this point, so the only reason to keep any of them alive is that they're cute. There's his entire life in the balance if he keeps letting them run around, especially if they search for the other beacon.

With that in mind, setting up the Scourger to be able to attack Caleb only puts his reputation at risk, and Essek has already taken steps to minimize that problem. Caleb was the one that requested a delay. Caleb was the one that wanted to speak to the Scourger. Caleb was the one that volunteered he had been training to be one. Caleb was the one that offered to fish for information useful to the Dynasty. Each was a push on the Dynasty's normal procedure and/or a personal risk to himself.

And what does Essek have to gain? It would be easy for Essek to frame this as the Assembly's pet Zemnians putting themselves at risk for small gains, and they're so devious even the best prison in the Dynasty was not enough to secure them perfectly. All the more reason to demonize the Empire and the Scourgers. It wouldn't matter if Caleb died or not; the attack was simply fuel for propaganda. Remember, Essek did not want peace. He wanted war. That bolstered his position as a spymaster, distracted the Dynasty from anything he was up to, and provided cover for the Assembly's research. In the long-term, it would just be one more incident to point to if Essek ever needed to sow dissent about Caleb's mental or emotional stability or the risk posed to the Dynasty by the Assembly.

And if Caleb died? One less member of the Nein to worry about. They'd gotten Essek some decent intel about the beacons, about DeRogna's research, and about the Scourgers. But that's it. They've done him no favors, they aren't directly useful for his research, and they're a massive liability.

Either of those outcomes specifically required violence. It wouldn't be enough for the Scourger to just rage in her chains. She needed to somehow get loose and have a weapon. Spells wouldn't have been a sufficient/sensible threat; she wouldn't have possibly been able to prepare spells from a book, and cantrips wouldn't have done much on their own against someone as strong as Caleb. But getting the Empire-trained assassin a shiv sure would have been a threat to a wizard made of soggy paper, and no matter how it played out, it only made the Empire look more monstrous.

So, yeah, I absolutely believe Essek went out of his way to make sure the Scourger would have an opportunity and weapon to attack Caleb. Risking some human's life for one more justification to prolong a war he started? That's the sort of shit I would expect from a neutral evil Shadowhand.