#so I might come back on this later and change it

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Kitty huffs, a rare moment of agitation, and blows it out sharply. She thrusts her hands forward and hurls the string of pearls onto the couch. She curls her fingers in frustration and stares at them, like a puzzle. 

“My goddamn hands won’t stop shaking,” she utters. 

You cross the room to her, wordlessly, and take the necklace. You move behind her to clasp it in place over her collar. She wears a straight cut black dress with no ornament. The pearls are a delicate touch to the otherwise plain outfit. 

“What do you think he wants?” Adrienne finally asks the question none of you dared. 

You look at her helplessly. They can never know you did this. They can’t ever know that the reason they are so scared in that moment is your fault. They might have longed to pull the trigger themselves but actually doing it is different. It’s... irredeemable. 

“He said we’re under his protection,” you say flatly. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the most skeptical of all of us,” Kitty accuses, “you believe that. Daddy was just another soldier.” 

“Maybe but what else are we going to do but obey?” You counter. 

Kitty winces and Adrienne’s eyes bat. Your older sister shakes her head, “you’re not the one to give up.” 

“I am.” You insist. “If it keeps you two safe then I will do whatever needs to be done.” 

They’re silent for a moment as they look from you to each other. They nod. “Us too,” Kitty says. “We have to take care of each other.” 

“Like always,” Adrienne agrees. 

Silence floods the room again. There’s a car waiting outside a few minutes later. You march out in another sombre parade. It’s a different kind of funeral that day. You’re not mourning the past, you’re mourning the future and what could have been and will never be. 

You sit together in the back seat. You hold hands. You never went to many of these ‘business’ gatherings. Outside of a wedding, you weren’t invited. Your father was only invited by the few people who knew him in the outfit. He was only ever the big dog when he barked at his three daughters. 

The car stops, you get out. You squeeze your sisters’ hands before you detach. The man who drove leads you to the immaculate white facade of the grand hall. You’re somewhat confused by the venue but this is not a day for questions. You had your curiosity beat out of you long ago. 

Inside, you’re led to a set of open doors. You enter and another man stands to beckon you further inside. There are bodies all around, all in dark suits, muttering under their breath, coughing, tapping fingers. 

Your eyes skim around cautiously. Barnes sits at the head table. He’s calm and unbothered by the new arrival. He’s indifferent to his men as the one next to him whispers in his ear. Rogers stands behind the boss’ chair as he speaks to him, gripping the elaborate orb that tops the post of the straight-backed seat. 

Barnes’ gaze meets yours only as you and your sisters are put at a table of your own. It feels like some hearing. A court case. Are they hearing the crimes of your father? But he said... 

No questions. There’s nothing the answers can change for you. Adrienne fidgets, wringing her hands restlessly, and Kitty sit so straight it looks like it hurts. None of you look past the table. Your daddy would smack your mouth for your wandering eyes. 

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s gut through the bullshit,” Barnes’ voice brings the voice to deathly lull. The men shift their bodies and their focus. The doors close subtly behind the boss’ timbre. “Now, don’t think I brought you here because of a single soldier. You know better. All of you.” 

His voice is stringent but restrained. Still, it’s enough to instill fear. You gulp and dare to look up at him. He stands and puts his hands on the table. 

“First, a crooked accountant. Bald clown messing around. Then I got men going out, coming back short. Then dead.” He snarls. “I don’t care about the small men. With due respect,” he pauses and glances in your direction, “but I know they don’t think for themselves, too. I know it was one of you. This isn’t just chance. 

“One of you popped Warren ‘cause he found you out,” Barnes continues.  

You sense movement like a soft breeze. Rogers edges along the wall, unnoticed. You stare in slow motion as he moves quickly towards another table. 

“And I found you out too,” Barnes hits the table with his fist. “I went through the numbers and I found the fucking thief.” 

You frown. It’s... lies. He told you that day. At the funeral. Your daddy was the thief. Now he’s telling them something different. He used you. It makes a good story. A mysteriously dead soldier, missing money... makes it easy to trim the fat. 

“Milo,” Barnes points and a chair scrapes and teeters.  

Rogers grabs the capo from behind, closing his hands around his neck. He drags him easily, like a rag doll. They aren’t so different in size and yet the blond moves the other easily as he bulls around the table and brings the man to the center of the room. 

“You been pocketing my money.” Barnes stands straight and gestures casually. 

Rogers tosses the other man, Milo, to the floor and kicks him so he sprawls. His assault is methodical. He doesn’t let up. He stomps and batters the man into the polished wood. The noise of cracking bones and breaking cartilage itch in your ears. The accused hacks and chokes on spit and blood. 

Your sisters smother gasps and startled sobs. You’re only mortified by your own indifference. Are you so callous to feel nothing for a man chosen to pay for father’s death? For your actions? You just can’t. You know every man in this room is just like your father was. Cruel. Mean. They deserve it just as much as he did. 

“Enough,” Barnes orders and Rogers steps back, combing his long hair away from his face as he puffs. The man on the floor is a puddle of wheezes. 

“Your houses, your cars, your accounts, all of it, will be turned over to Warren’s daughters. For his good service to me. He died finding you out. He died for the good of the outfit. He smoked out the mole,” Barnes says. “And you orphaned his daughters, just like you meant to do to every man in this room.” 

Silence. Stillness. No one moves. 

“You are all dismissed. On your way out, you make sure to pay your disrespects to that scum,” Barnes growls. “And look at him, hard and long, because the next fucker I catch with his hands in my pockets will be right there with him.” 

There’s a moment before anyone moves. The first man to rise is greying around his temples. He comes out from behind the table and nears the shaking form on the floor. He spits on Milo then sends his pointed leather shoe into the man’s stomach. He marches out without looking back. 

The next man follows suit. Spit, kick, go. One after another the men disburse in the same manner. The noises, ptuah, crack, tap, tap, tap, form a sickly rhythm. You can only sit and watch. 

You reach to your sisters and take their hands again. You glance between them. They look on in horror. They aren’t made for this. Your eyes flit back to the head table and find the king looking over his court. No, he’s looking at you. 

Barnes dips his chin and his eyes gleam. He is the master. No one dares to challenge the narrative he’s written. Whatever he says is all the truth they need to worry about. Same goes for you. 

[jolapeno]

touch me. move me.

javier peña x f!reader wordcount: 910 warnings: smut. just ridin', after thigh ridin'.

Javier’s mouth lingers against your breastbone, his warm breath unfurling in soft trails along your skin.

Thick beads of sweat slip down your spine, skimming and sliding as his fingers dig further into your hip. It’s almost bruising, biting, likely leaving a pattern as you bear down. Hoping later you’ll be able to run your hands over each mark, even if his grip is nothing but guiding, aiding.

He’s perfect inside of you.

Real; something that's not formed of dreams or fantasies, chest heaving as you sink down, slow, inch by inch, a roll of your hips—dragging your needy, swollen pussy up and down, up and down.

There are still lines of silvery pre-come scratched across his lower stomach, drying in the hair around his naval. It’s there from when you’d stained his jeans, dragged your slickened folds against the rough fabric—him wanting his pleasure drawn out, wanna watch you come first. A glint in his eyes, lips moulding over yours until he’d whispered, no demanded—úsame, hermosa, you can use me.

You did, had done. Riding his thigh, chin lifted, eyes taking in his ceiling and the fan which struggled to disperse the thickening heat. His sofa had groaned when his leg raised, forcing his covered thigh up against you, scratchy, your chest heaving—pleasure desperate, it trying to rip its way through you, clawing. One hand on your waist, ribs expanding as you choke on mews, the other hand on his freed cock, it twitching, not able to take his fucking eyes from you—need to fuck you, Peña.

Now you are. A reward for being good, he’d smirked. His eyes now taking you in atop him, brown depths, holes. Enough to dive into, drown. Ravenous, incensed, it’s all utterly maddening as his thrusts meet yours, his fingers sliding up your neck. They catch, his nails, as your pussy makes vulgar noises around him, it grounding you as his lewd mouth slants over yours. Overcome by it all, every scent, every sound and the pleasure that shouldn’t be there for him, but it is, it is, it is.

You disliked him, or you did half a year ago. It had changed thirteen weeks ago, having found yourself introduced to his bedsheets, to how his bedframe clangs against the wall—plaster crumbling as he hissed in your ear.

The way the two of you have been, you’re surprised it’s not a crater, a cavity signed with your initials and his.

Been thinking about you all day. A shiver sparks down your throat as his voice pulls you back, his teeth grazing against your jaw—eyes finding yours, dark, voracious. You're lightheaded from it, your pussy spasms as a whine forcing its way out.

Too good, you think. Too good at this.

At knowing the spots, the ways he can undo you, turning you into a tangled mess, a puddle, a mess. The room is thick with sin, sweat, all heady—his thumb pressing to your swollen nerves, circling, nodding as you emit a needy cry as if knowing. Taunting. Always cocky, always having a right to be.

But beneath that hardened exterior, you know a truth few others see: he’s sweet—or can be. Less gruff, less heavy, a man who, in another life, might laugh deeply instead of hiding it behind a snort. He licks into your mouth, carrying a faint trace of smoke, a dark, lingering burnt taste. A dusky stain—one you cling to, let the hint of fire and ash burn your lungs.

Your movement flows in reaction, molten, magnetic, sticky fingers pressing to your neck as he leaves your clit. His eyes lock on you, a silent devotion, mouth agape as you take him to the root, fluttering, pressure building.

It builds, feverish—humming in your ears, a rush in your veins.

He’s so deep it’s unforgiving, hitting deep, skin prickling. Close, I’m close. His voice an anchor, eyes meeting his, body rolling with him, fingers tangled in the longer strands close to his neck. I know, let me have it. Hips snapping to his, almost trembling—face buried in his neck as you moan. The pace faster, praise there nestled between hisses, occasionally breaking through, forming words, good girl, like that.

You keen. Aware, distantly, of nails digging into his skin, piercing, leaving half-moons as your skin burns, it all thick around your neck as your lower stomach becomes nothing but molten heat, lungs utterly breathless. His hand, large, all deft fingers, palms at your breast, nipple pinched between thumb and finger, tongue laving at your neck, teeth grazing. It building, and building. It overtaking, mind rendering—

You tighten, clench—hearing nothing but white noise.

Then, it’s blistering heat. Every other sense fading, dissolving—pleasure flooding you. It spurns, rips up from somewhere. All static, a choked wail in your throat as you uncoil and his grip tightens, likely deepening the shade of your skin under the pressure as his cock pushes you through it, chanting his name, Javier, Javier, Javier.

Over-blissed, you feel his release. A pulse, him spilling into you with a grunt that’s bitten back—hissing it through his teeth, tip of his tongue there as his hips shudder, jolt.

You don’t dare move, simply melt into him, muscles yielding as you dissolve together into a seamless tangle of limbs. Skin sweat-slicked, seeing the wrecked look on his face—admiring it.

His gaze drops to where the two of you meet, yours following. Seeing the sight of his and your pleasure on the inside of your thighs, leaking out—staring down as he pulls himself from you with a whimper—seeing how it glistens, shimmers. His fingers are the second reason you gasp, two of them, swiping across your flesh as he lifts it, playing with it, coating his touch in your two’s pleasure, bringing it to his lips as you watch, in awe, captivated.

Then you crash your mouth to his, lips bruising—devouring, feasting.

“Stay,” he asks.

You smile against his mouth.

AN: drabbles may be posted here. but series/one shots will still live over on AO3.

[hikakuriyyu]

Scream men as a soft yandere (headcanon)

⁎ warnings: jealousy, implied !murder!, posessiveness, female!reader. not proof read.

�� summary: how (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would act if they were a yandere.

⁎ author note: thank you guys for all the support ! i got one more headcanon and i'll move on from scream. i am writing a anon request right now ! :)

Billy Loomis

If you're out with friends, Billy will casually ''drop by'' to check in, telling you he just wanted to see you. He'll stay close to you, keeping you by his side at all times. If anyone starts to take up too much of your attention, he'll try to put your attention back to him, reminding you that he's there.

While you are out with your friends, you laugh at one of the jokes they made while Billy was sat next to you. A few moments later, he slips his arm around your waist. He flashes a fake smile to your friend before turning to you, ''I missed you.'' He stays close for the rest of the conversation, his hand lingering as a silent warning to anyone nearby.

When you're upset or going through a rough time, Billy will be right there, pulling you close and whispering that he's the only one who understands you, the only one you can be with. He'll listen to you and basically gaslight you into thinking he is the only one for you.

After you vent about your day, Billy gently takes your hand and looks into your eyes. ''I'm here. You don't need anyone else... right ?'' his voice is warm, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like he is indeed the only one who truly understood you. It's comforting. Exactly what he wanted.

He'd always make sure to give slight warnings to people he saw as a threat to your relationship. Perhaps a guy who was staring at you for too long or when somebody gets too close to you for his liking. He'd be very discreet with the warnings he'd give.

When your friend touched your shoulder in a friendly way, Billy catches up with them afterward, blocking their path with a casual smile. ''I’d keep some distance from her if I were you.'' he says in a low voice, his eyes turning cold. The message is clear. No one gets close to you without his permission.

Stu Macher

Stu would always be around you, seeking your attention and approval. He'd act like your personal hype man, getting over excited about everything you do. If he feels like you're not paying attention to him, he'd playfully sulk or even resort to exaggerated antics to keep all eyes on him and you. Because in his mind, no one else deserves your attention except for him.

Stu shows up unexpectedly at your favorite hangout, waving and grinning as he calls out your name. He right next to you, wanting you catch him up on everything he missed. If anyone else tries to talk, he abruptly interrupts them, making sure he keeps your attention on him. ''C'mon, it's way more fun when it's just us.'' he says, giving you that familiar smile.

Stu would have very bad mood swings. He'd be his usual goofy self, but suddenly turn possessive if he someone is trying to come between you. His cheerful nature would return as soon as you give him reassurance, but anyone watching might feel uneasy at how quickly his mood changes when it comes to you.

You're chatting with someone when Stu suddenly pulls you aside, his expression a little darker than usual. ''What's so interesting about her ?'' he asks, trying to play it off with a laugh, but there's a hint of edge in his tone. Once you reassure him, he relaxes, grinning and wrapping an arm around you, back to his usual self as if nothing happened. But you catch the dirty look he gives the person you were talking to before you leave.

Stu would joke around about ''keeping you all to himself'' or make comments about others ''getting in the way'' but there would be a hint of seriousness in his tone. While he'd brush it off as a joke, his possessiveness would be clear, especially when he laughs just a little too long.

Stu drapes an arm over your shoulder, watching as someone tries to approach you. With a laugh that's just a bit too loud, he mutters, ''They better watch themselves, huh ? Wouldn't want anyone getting in our way.” He grins, leaving you wondering if that was really joke.

Mickey Altieri

Mickey would have a habit of watching every little detail about you. He'd know your class schedule, your favorite spots, and even memorize your favorite foods. If you happen to change your plans or mention something new, he'd be the first to know. He'd never directly admit it though.

You're surprised when you mention a new movie you wanted to see, and Mickey immediately pulls two tickets from his pocket with a casual grin. ''Already got us seats.'' he says smoothly, as if it's a total coincidence. But the way his smile tells you he's has been paying very close attention. Maybe closer than you realized.

Mickey would always be on edge when it comes to your safety. He'd insist on walking you home, sending texts about every 5 minutes, and questioning anyone who gets too close to you. If he senses someone is giving you unwanted attention, he'd intervene. And the person he said he'd ''talk to'', mysteriously disappears the next day.

Walking together after class, you notice Mickey glancing over his shoulder every few minutes, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. When he noticed someone was looking at you for too long, his grip tightens on your waist. ''Some people just don't know how to mind their business.'' he murmured to himself, already planning to take care of the person.

Mickey would be very intense in his affection, doing anything to prove how much he cares. He'd bring you gifts or show up unexpectedly just to remind you he's there. But beneath the charm, there'd be vulnerability in his gestures. Like he's afraid of losing you. His entire happiness relies on keeping you close.

One evening, Mickey shows up at your door with a small gift bag and that charming smile of his. Inside, it's filled with little things that only someone who really listens to you would know you love. He shrugs casually. ''Just thought you could use a pick up.'' His eyes are so fixed on your reaction that it feels like he's studying every expression, almost as if he needs the reassurance of seeing you happy.

Charlie Walker

Charlie would secretly collect stuff from things you had lying around or things you've touched. A pen you dropped on the grond, your hairtie, even a napkin you used. He'd tuck these away like small treasures, creating a hidden shrine that only he knows about.

You leave a study session at Charlie's place, and after you go, he carefully picks up the pencil you left behind. With a soft smile, he adds it to a small, hidden box in his room, where he keeps little things that remind him of you. He runs his fingers over the items, each one carrying a memory that makes him feel closer to you.

Charlie would stalk on you. Like following your social media or always knowing where you are. He wouldn't comment much, just liking posts But he is always aware of what you're up to, but never enough to be obvious about it.

One night, you post a picture at a new restaurant. Within moments, Charlie texts you, asking casually if you're enjoying the food. ''Didn't know you liked that place. Let me know if you want company next time !'' he writes, acting as though he just happened to see it. You don't know, but he already knew exactly where you were.

He'd frame his actions as concern, subtly making you rely on him by helping you with homework, offering to lend his favorite books or movies, or even inviting you over under the guise of study sessions. Over time, he'd make it seem like he's the one who understands you best, all while gently isolating you from others.

You mention struggling with an assignment, and Charlie offers his help, insisting he has all the right resources. As you work together, he subtly dismisses advice from other classmates, saying things like, ''They just don't get it like we do.'' His calm reassurance makes you start to rely on him more, and bit by bit, you feel like he's the only one who truly understands your needs.

Ethan Landry

He would always be by your side, no matter where you go. Whether you're at school, walking through a crowded hallway, or sitting in a library, his presence is constant, a shadow that never leaves.

You're sitting outside, trying to get some work done, when Ethan slides into the seat next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. He doesn't say anything at first, just sits there, his hand resting inches from yours. When you glance at him, he smiles softly, eyes fixed on you. ''You okay ?'' His voice is calm, but his gaze lingers, as if he’s waiting for you to give him your full attention. It's like he doesn''t want to leave your side, not for a second.

Ethan is the perfect boyfriend in public: soft, gentle, and attentive. He'll bring you your favorite coffee, ask about your day, and always make you feel cared for. But behind closed doors, his thoughts are far more twisted. If he sees anyone he doesn't like you to be around, he would go as far as killing them. Just for you.

Earlier, a guy from your class was annoying you on purpose, trying to get a reaction from you. Ethan glared at him, his fists tightening in anger. A dark thought crosses his mind. “Don't worry, he won't bother you again.'' The sweetness in his tone doesn't reach his eyes. They're colder now, calculating. You don't realize it, but he was planning something much more sinister than you would ever expect.

Behind closed doors, Ethan would have photos of you, recordings of conversations, even small things like your handwriting on scraps of paper, all kept in a hidden journal. It's his personal shrine, a way to relive every interaction with you in obsessive detail. If anyone ever found it, they'd realize just how deep his obsession is.

You enter Ethan's room for the first time, and something feels off. His walls are covered with posters, but there's one section with pictures of you, some taken from far away, others shots from class or during lunch. You freeze, your heart racing. Ethan notices your reaction and walks over, a soft smile on his face. ''I just thought they were pretty.'' he says casually, as if it's nothing. ''Don’t worry. You're safe with me. I'm just making sure I never forget you.”

[cianfries-stuff]

Welcome, everyone, to my TED Talk. Today, we're diving into my humble top 3 most striking declarations of love from Dean to Sam so far.

3. Croatoan. Dean wanted Sam to infect him with the Croatoan virus so they could die together. I bet that if the doctor hadn’t come back two seconds later to free them, Dean would’ve cut himself on purpose and infected himself so that Sam wouldn’t have to do it once he lost control. At that point, all that was missing was George Michael’s Careless Whisper in the background, and they might as well have ended the series right there.

2. The siren. In the show, the siren transforms into the person you desire most in the world. For Dean, that person isn’t a lover, a girlfriend, or a wife—it’s a version of Sam who loves him more than he believes the real Sam does, and who’s as devoted to him as he is to Sam. In fact, what Dean wants the most is to be loved by his baby brother. I can't believe this is actually a canon event.

1. Dean’s heaven. When he gets to heaven in season 5, he relives the memory of when he and Sam shot off fireworks for the 4th of July. This moment gives us a glimpse into his deepest feelings:

Dean has always felt this way about Sam.

His affection hasn’t changed over the years—from the time that memory took place to his arrival in heaven, despite all they’ve been through: demon blood, fights, trying to kill and save each other repeatedly. What he felt back then as a kid is exactly what he feels now as an adult, except now it comes with the bittersweet nostalgia of knowing it’ll never come back.

Dean’s idea of heaven doesn’t center on his own happiness—it’s about Sam’s. And it’s even better if he is the reason Sam is happy.

And if that’s not enough, Dean openly admits how painful it is to realize that he doesn’t even appear in Sam’s heaven. I think we can safely call this moment a not-as-subtle-as-dean-thinks declaration of love and devotion. Interestingly, in that episode, we see a string of Sam’s memories but only one of Dean’s—and Sam doesn’t even witness it. It really makes you wonder what other memories might make up Dean’s heaven…

One more thing: that scene reminds me of the one in Edward Scissorhands where Winona Ryder’s character dances in the snow. It’s fascinating to compare the two, because one scene should depict brotherly love while the other shows romantic love, yet to me, they seem almost identical. And honestly, I think Dean and Edward have a lot in common—but that’s a topic for another TED Talk.

So, to wrap things up: Dean is madly in love with his little brother. Thank you all for listening.

I'm only up to season 5, so this is a partial ranking. Stay tuned for more rants!

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Bed Snatchers

Simon had texted you that he had gotten home from Mexico about midnight. When you finished your night at the café you were careful to enter the flat quietly. You might still wake him with how jumpy he could be after jobs. Wincing as you lock the front door you remove your shoes as softly as you can, setting them on the floor instead of letting them flop like you normally would. Turning on the flashlight of your phone you dim it as much as you can and still cover it with your fingers to not disturb anyone that might have slid home with him.

More and more often the guys would come home with Simon. You were about to suggest everyone going in on a house rental together because at least then you were always guaranteed to have somewhere to lay down after work. Glancing into the living room you see a lump of a body on the couch. Stepping lightly into the room you think it’s John. A raucous snore rips through the room. Yep. That’s John.

Letting a pip of light peak through your fingers you see he has not blanket on. Once that problem is resolved you head toward your room. The door is cracked. Must be more than John who came home with Simon then.

Pushing the door open you see two bodies sprawled across your bed. Letting a tad more light shine from your phone you squint and see Kyle and Gary almost fighting for space on your bed. You let the smile that forces its way to your lips stay. Leaving the men to their sleeping battle you grab a set of pajamas and head into the hall bathroom.

Leaving the lights off, your phone light reflects off the bowl of the sink as you change. Dropping your clothes into your basket in the bathroom you move to knock on Simon’s door. Tapping lightly you wait. He would wake.

Less than twenty seconds later the door pops open, and Simon blinks in the dim light.

“The couch and my bed are both taken, can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Johnny is here, but there is room.”

Rubbing your eyes you follow Simon and turn off your flashlight. Simon puts a hand on your elbow, leading you into the bed before him. Pulling up the blankets you slide in until you run into Johnny, then back up slightly.

The touch must have woken him. Johnny reaches out and pulls you close.

“Ah, bonnie, no Simon.”

He is not wearing a shirt. You had never seen Johnny shirtless, but he felt warm and lightly covered with hair.

Simon climbs in behind you, settling an arm across both of you. Something about that tickled something in your brain but sleep already lulled you with her melodies.

When you woke it was because you were too warm.

Tucked tight to Simon’s chest you watch his hand drift across Johnny’s still-sleeping face.

“When did that happen?” You whisper, careful not to wake your sleeping friend. 

“This last mission. Mexico was…hard.”

“I’m happy for you.”

You really are, even if part of you yearns for every one of these crazy men to be yours always. That would be entirely too selfish. You were lucky to have them as you did, sharing kisses for luck and driving business to your shop. Selfish wasn’t a thing you could ever allow yourself to be. You didn’t dare ask for anything from them.

You had learned in your early twenties that you were asexual, much to the frustration of every partner you had. After a while you had stopped looking for any kind of romantic love, it was too twined up in sex for so many people that staying single was easier.

Simon pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thanks. When are you going to end up happy?”

The question stabbed you between the ribs.

“Who says I’m not?”

“You don’t have a partner, don’t most people want that?”

“Most people aren’t okay that I only want sex when I’m ovulating so, no I guess I don’t want that,” your voice rose a bit.

Johnny’s eyes slid open, taking in you tucked into Simon’s arms. The softest smile you had ever seen on the man warmed your heart to the point of pain.

“Morning lass, how did you end up here?”

His voice, morning-deep, taking some extra work to decipher.

“Kyle and Gary were sleep fighting in my bed. Simon at least has a king-sized mattress.”

“What time did you get in?” He blinked at you as if fighting waking.

“Three.”

He reached out and pulled you across the bed; Simon’s hands drifted with you.

“Simon is an earlier riser, stay here and sleep with me.”

Settling against Johnny was different than with Simon. Johnny didn’t seem to mind the full body contact, twining of limbs, or manhandling you until you sat just right in his arms. Snug against him, in the darkness of the blinds, you slid back to sleep, but not before feeling the bed dip as Simon placed a kiss against your temple and Johnny’s lips. He left the room quiet as a mouse.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

—

“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with an autistic partner

Requested? Yes!

Genre: just a ton of comfort

Seungcheol 

Totally lets you practice conversations with him. It took a single time of you being anxious about making what feels like a simple phone call and he’s getting to the bottom of it. When you tell him that sometimes you’re intimidated by carrying conversation and tend to overthink it, he simply asks you to pretend it’s with him. You think he might make fun of you, but he’s gentle about guiding you in what to say to certain things. Now it’s common practice to ask him to rehearse something with you before you do it, but if it ever gets to be too much, he’ll just pick up the phone and make the call for you, no problem.

Jeonghan

Now this is a guy who has an emotional support sword, so he totally gets the need to fidget. It’s grounding and helps him focus, so when you’re out to dinner with friends and he notices you’re not really present, he’ll put an extra straw or chopstick in your hands to twirl. When you ask him later how he knew what you needed, he brushes you off. He’ll always find you something to fidget with, even if it’s his own hand or hoodie string. You find yourself just reaching for him rather than anything else if you feel that particular feeling coming on, and it makes him smile that you feel comfortable depending on him like that.

Joshua

I’m so sorry, but I just love the idea of Joshua being kind of crafty. He notices you’re feeling a little overstimulated one day and pulls you to the table, putting a coloring book and colored pencils in front of you. You look at him, almost offended, because you are an adult, damn it!!! But he asks you to humor him, picking out two pages, one for you and one for him. It does wonders, giving you something to focus on in a time of internal chaos. You lose a lot of time to it and when you finally check back in, he’s smiling lovingly at you, asking if you feel a little better. It’s a regular habit now to sit and do something like this just because and you’re touched that he seems to enjoy it as much as you do.

Jun

He notices that sometimes you’re avoidant of conversation with others, and one time he asks why. You admit that sometimes you feel like you misread or totally miss social cues and facial expressions and it makes you anxious thinking about how you might butcher a seemingly simple conversation. But listen. He’s the perfect person to tell this to. Sometimes, before bed, he’ll make faces at you, sometimes subtle and sometimes not, and then ask you to read them. You’re embarrassed by this at first, but eventually you come around to this little game because he’s so gentle about guiding you, telling you what to look for. Furrowed eyebrows = confused or angry. Blushing = embarrassed or shy. Tight jaw = stressed or angry. It lets you learn it in a safe environment and you find that the longer you do it, the more comfortable you are in conversation in daily life.

Hoshi

This is so simple. He’s a yapper!! He’ll do all the talking in social settings and doesn’t force you to participate. If you do happen to be pulled into conversation, he’s quick to give you an encouraging smile, but he’s also quick to give you an escape by changing the subject if he can tell today is just not the day. But at home, he’s the listener because he always tries to find the things that you like to yap about. He’s aware that you do a lot of listening in day to day life, and in the privacy of your home, it’s his turn to listen. 

Wonwoo

Whereas Joshua helps you find hyper fixations, Wonwoo helps you control how much time and energy you lose to those hyper fixations. Interests are good, he tells you, and he’d never change anything about you, but he will not let you stay up all night. He will not let you skip a meal. He will not let you forget the important things. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s so so gentle about it. It’s all ‘Baby, come eat and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, come to bed and tell me about it’, or ‘Baby, you need to go get ready for work, but tell me all about it later, okay?’. It brings balance to your life that you didn't realize you desperately needed. 

Woozi

Cliche, I know, but his studio is his hide out from the rest of the world. The catch is that it can also be yours. Sometimes, it’s nice to just come in and disassociate for a while after an overwhelming day and he lets you do it in total silence with headphones on if you want. But sometimes, he’ll pull you over to sit next to him and put his headphones on you to listen to something he’s working on. One time, you told him that you found his music and his voice relaxing, so he thinks about that when he makes what he makes. He likes that you use it for comfort and it motivates him. 

DK

You’re putting off doing something like going to the post office to mail something. Seokmin notices that this package has been sitting there for a while and asks you about it. When you admit that you don’t know how the whole post office thing works, he asks you to explain what you mean. Kind of embarrassed, you admit that you don’t understand the structure of it. Where’s the line? What do you say when you get up to the front? What kind of questions might they ask? Is there anything you should be asking them for? This sweet, sweet man makes you get up and physically act the whole thing out with him in the comfort of your living room without a single laugh. You’re still nervous the next day when you go and finally mail this stupid package out, but Seokmin enthusiastically cheers you on when he notices it’s gone later that night. 

Mingyu

He notices a few quirks since living with you. For example, you can’t simply do the dishes. When he asks why you unloaded the dishwasher, but didn’t empty the sink, he isn’t trying to be mean, but he doesn’t understand when you say it’s too big of a job to do in one go. He asks what you mean, and you explain that it’s not just ‘doing the dishes’ for you. It’s unloading the dishwasher, and putting the clean dishes away, then loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes and getting into the cabinet to get detergent and fill the little compartment with it. Then it’s starting the dishwasher and putting back the detergent, only to have to do it all again tomorrow. His eyes widen a bit at your rant, but then he sweetly says, ‘Okay, baby. Do it however you need to’. He’ll never say anything about it again, but it doesn’t stop him from just doing the dishes amongst other chores himself the next day because he doesn’t want you to stress about it like that. 

Minghao

One time, after not seeing you for a little bit due to busy schedules, Minghao asks how you’re doing. You say you don’t know. He quirks his eyebrow. “Don’t know as in Not Good?” You shake your head. “No, I just don’t know.” He carefully asks questions, seeking to understand, and realizes it’s not that you don’t feel anything. You just don’t really know how to put a name to it. After that, some date nights feel a little bit like therapy, just short of the ‘and how did that make you feel?’ For example, you tell him about a rough meeting at work that day and he asks, “Did you feel frustrated by it?” You think and finally say, “Yeah, maybe”. Over time, it turns into an ‘I think I’m frustrated’ and then finally a definitive ‘I’m frustrated’. He’s really proud that you can express yourself more clearly because that means he can help you more.

Seungkwan

You don’t do well with change, and he totally understands it. When he goes away for work, he understands that it breaks your routine in a lot of ways. He starts by giving you a heads up as soon as he knows that some travel is coming up, putting it on a shared calendar - both physical and electronic. In the weeks ahead of this trip, he’s reminding you gently, “I leave in a couple weeks”. It’s not to be mean, anything but. It’s to help you mentally prepare for the incoming change. He helps you in little ways in those couple weeks, making sure you have your alarm set automatically, making a meal plan to stick on the fridge and scheduling a grocery delivery with everything you’ll need for it, putting gas in your car in case you need to use it, etc. He also asks you what you’d like to do with your down time while he’s gone, suggesting a binge of a book or TV series that you liked before. He knows you’re not a child and would never treat you as such, but he wants you to feel comfortable going about life as usual when he has to be gone and can’t be there to do those little things for you himself. So he does everything he can to make sure that everything else is as routine as possible. 

Vernon

One of the things he loves most about you is that you guys can just coexist in the same space in total silence. It’s not unusual for you both to sit on opposite ends of the couch, headphones on, doing your own thing. And sometimes, he knows this is your preference to not really talk out loud. Still, he’ll text you to check in, even if you’re just a few feet away from him. Sometimes you have entire conversations through text like this and he really, truly doesn’t mind. There’s something intimate about it for him in a way he can’t really explain, and he likes that you’re comfortable with that mode of communication, even if you’ve had a hard day. Yeah, you’ll have to pry his phone from his cold, dead hands for this reason alone. 

Chan

One night, you tell him you’re feeling pretty anxious. He doesn’t ask why, but he can tell your nervous energy isn’t going to just go away anytime soon. So, he offers for you two to go to the gym. You gape at him. “It's the middle of the night, Chan.” “And the gym is open 24 hours. It’ll probably be empty. Let’s give it a try, maybe you can work off some of your energy.” Midnight trips to the gym are a regular thing for you guys now, because he was totally right. It’s usually empty and it does help shut off your brain enough to go home and get some sleep. You feel bad about it sometimes because of the hours he keeps for his job, but he won’t hear anything about it because he’ll go with you to do anything to put your mind at ease. 

[zekeyboy]

I love apprentice adam as much as the next guy. Probably more than the next guy to be honest considering i want him to be alive so badly. HOWEVER. Let’s be real. Apprentice adam is so unlikely to exist for many many reasons.

Adam is not like Lawrence ideology-wise. Lawrence is an upper class white guy who like. he views his life to be ruined by these scum. these people lesser than him (ex. adam, for stalking him & photographing him, tapp, for going off the edge, so on and so forth) and its expanded on when we see the deleted scene from saw 7 where kramer talks to gordon about how like the bottom rung of society will always pull the good men down with them or whatever. like the fact that there was one trap where kramer puts a homeless man in the glass coffin and he has to like. eat shards of glass that got cut. really hammers in how kramer really views people - and in turn, the ideologies he pushes onto Lawrence. Adam is a highschool drop-out who’s, presumably, very involved in punk culture. He was originally supposed to have a huge photo of a Cuban revolutionary on the wall of his apartment. He’s probably never had a real job. In the original script, he’s very open about hating cops. He is the complete opposite of “Important White Male” Lawrence Gordon - and the perfect counter to Lawrence’s game (because, let’s be real - it was always Lawrence centric. I will come back to this later.)

Adam has always been considered the lower level of society. A “bottom-feeder.” He’s a drop-out, his line of work is very illegal, and - judging from the Scott Tibbs documentary, he’s been in that kind of crowd for a while and has forced himself to adapt to it. Trying to keep my personal view of Adam out of this analysis, he’s definitely spent a lot of time around the kind of people that kramer views as scum. He’s also, unsurprisingly, very sweet at his core. Look at how he talks to Amanda in the deleted SAW III scene, how he jokes around with those ladies. He’s like. A nice guy. Scott Tibbs even says so. Lawrence, however, isn’t the kindest. He might put on a face of nice, good guy, but he’s.. What people might expect Adam to be at their core.

Lawrence had his life together, and was dragged down by a bad decision. Adam has a different view and perspective on the world than Lawrence does. he was never at the top and pulled down. he’s been at the bottom and he works with what he has and i really like. i dont think that surviving his trap would change his perspective. i don’t think he would suddenly realize why kramer does what he does. It really wouldn’t help him. However, even if he was going to change his view of the world…

John Kramer does NOT like that guy. Like it’s very clear how biased he is here. Adam’s tape doesn’t even have rules. He doesn’t have a goal. He’s simply told that he might die, that he’s pathetic, and that he needs to ‘do something about it.’ He isn’t given rules, he isn’t given a consequence, he’s given such vague instructions. Lawrence, however, gets clear rules. Kill Adam by 6, or you and your family die.

The kicker, to me, is the fact that Lawrence fails his test. He doesn’t kill Adam by 6. He fails his test. Adam, however, is still alive at 6 - which would imply that he won. Now, I understand that the key was in the tub and that’s how he was supposed to get out. But even without that aspect of it going down the drain and him being doomed from the start, Kramer has a clear biased perspective on the two of them.

Lawrence failed, and is going to die. Adam didn’t fail - it was a design flaw, if anything, and he’s paying for it. Why does John save Lawrence, but not Adam?

It’s not Adam’s test, is the reason. It’s very focused on Lawrence. Anybody could’ve been in Adam’s place - he just had the bad luck of being selected as the photographer by Tapp. Adam was only used as a tool to counteract Lawrence - similar to the janitor in Saw VI for Easton. Adam was never intended to survive, but more to be used as a tool to teach.

Kramer, also, isn’t very fond of impoverished people. Amanda is a special case - but she’s almost more of a trophy if anything. If I got into John and Amanda’s relationship it’d have to be a completely new post, but he’s the kind of person who thinks that you just have to pick yourself up by the bootstraps i think. The fact that he, as I mentioned before, has a deleted trap where he puts a homeless person in the original glass coffin…. Is enough for me to figure out how he really views people below him.

I could probably go on. I probably will go on in my head. I’m very bad at organizing my thoughts. I hope this was comprehensive. I did my best to not accidentally mix in my own personal Adam thoughts that aren’t canon to the films (i have a lot.)

[kinardscake]

nothing in 8x05 makes sense knowing they filmed it after 8x06, if the writers/actors knew buck/tommy would permanently break up the next episode.

feels like it was supposed to be a temporary break up, but something changed, like something happened behind the scenes, after both episodes were filmed.

or maybe the ending of 8x06 was filmed after 8x05 or reshot sometime the last 2-3 weeks, because again, doesn't make sense to have them be that happy in 8x05 if the actors knew about the break up while filming 8x05, something changed later.

I might sound a bit delulu but I think the break up isn’t permanent.

Nothing on this show is permanent, nothing is absolute. Any character could probably die one episode and come back in the next one alive and well.

Lou played a character in a 3 ep arc with a very clear beginning and end to Tommy’s story, and yet he got a call 5-6 years later from Tim asking him to come back. Same with the actor who played Eli, or the actress who played young Athena, or the kid from the s2 disaster.

Characters leave and come back, so it is technically possible that we might see Tommy again. (I guess the only time your exit is permanent is when you sue the show :) )

Sure, we’ve got 2 Lou interviews, one of which a journalist called “an exit interview”. But we have to consider that these journalists in some way targeted a very specific audience who would drive the engagement. I mean it’s highly possible that it weren’t BTs who first saw the interview drop.

So, whether intentional or not, those two interviews are presented through a particular lens. Hence the buddie questions and using phrases like “saying goodbye”, “exit”. Because that side of the fandom would eat it up and ask for more. As my linguistics professor taught us, be careful choosing your words, because one carefully placed word can turn your sentence upside down changing its meaning. So if you want things to be interpreted in a certain way, you chose the right words to lead to that interpretation. Words are the most powerful thing in the world.

We have to take every interview with a grain of salt. Actors can’t really disclose anything beyond what we already know. So every interview is treated like it’s the last episode and the future questions are more of a speculation than truth.

I mean, Tim said there would be tension between Hen and Chimney, and then later took those words back.

So, whether the break up is temporary or permanent, everyone involved with the show has to treat it like it’s permanent. Because what if Lou can’t come back? What if something changes down the line?

The only thing we know is that we don’t know anything. Was the scene reshot? Maybe. Was it a last minute decision? Maybe. Was it supposed to be a completely different scene? Maybe. All we can do is speculate.

And not give up. :)

[discordiansamba]

still thinking about the bad end variant of the lee from the tea shop au and just. it's been years since the gaang met lee for the first time. he might not have gone on an adventure to save the world with them, but he's become their friend all the same during the time they've known him. his tea shop is a safe haven in ba sing se, away from their duties. away from all the political intrigue.

then katara sees his scar, and it turns everything on its head.

katara's so shocked that she doesn't say anything to him in the moment- and no one else saw it. lee's wife literally just gave birth. she holds it in desperately, until it's finally time to go. toph immediately demands to know what's got her heart racing like an ostrich-horse, so she tells them.

lee's scar looks exactly like zuko's.

it clicks when she says it. that's why lee has always felt faintly familiar. he's zuko. she wants to be angry. did he hide his identity from them on purpose? but he's so... different. it's been over twenty years since they saw zuko last, but he couldn't have possibly changed that much during that time, could he? she can't imagine the prince zuko she knew settling down and peacefully running a tea shop.

something's not right.

they pour over the dai li's records. sokka's the one who finds the logbook in code. it's accompanied by several others, but the dates in this one match up to after the fall of ba sing se. sokka spends a few days just decoding the logbook, before he carefully transcribes it into a separate volume. he doesn't get very far before he has to stop, hurling out the contents of his lunch into a bucket.

katara's right. lee is zuko. or he was.

sokka decodes the entire thing in one day. he doesn't want to have stop and come back to it later. everything in it is awful. tui and la- he didn't even like zuko, but he doesn't deserve this. to be rewritten into a completely new person, with new memories and a new personality? it's horrifying. it makes sokka's skin crawl. the way the person keeping the records writes about it is even worse.

the bulk of the logbook is from the four years after the fall of ba sing se. after that, it was only ever updated periodically- small updates. the last entry before the drop off simply says that the brainwashing is no longer simply permanent- it is self-sustaining. the subject's brain is now inventing its own answers to questions he asks about their past- answers which were not provided for him. the alteration is now complete.

i have good reason to believe it is irreversible, it says.

once he's done, sokka shoves the transcribed version on the others, and lets them deal with it. he collapses in bed- and it's only exhaustion that lets him sleep. when he wakes up, he just has to take one look at everyone's face to know they've read it- and told toph about the contents, judging from her equally green look.

zuko wasn't their friend.

lee is.

...how can they possibly face him now that they know the truth?

[dreamwreaver]

I completely agree, Vaggie and Charlie are really each other's antithesis and it's executed BADLY. The show doesn't do anything meaningful with their differences, if anything, it makes it starker. Their communication is terrible, they are not at all in sync with each other's needs and the only time they ever got actual development was when they separated to seek help for the battle with the exorcist, in which, they had more chemistry with their respective mentors than they ever had with each other (I honestly ship Vaggie and Carmilla a little after their spar, like come on, one time Carmilla lets her hair down, an act of vulnerability in some cultures, was with Vaggie and Vaggie also got her wings back after that fight too. Not to mention, they had a whole ass song together despite not meeting yet before the Chaggie song and has plus points for being original unlike Chaggie's song so Vamilla/Battleangel is a decent ship for me.)

Vaggie may say that she'll do anything for Charlie but she sure as hell won't let Charlie sing and have a deal with the same guy she had a deal back in episode 1. She also seems to forgot that her girlfriend is a grown-ass woman who can thrive on without her while she can't because she thinks she's worth nothing without Charlie. It's sad, really.

I'm honestly curious on what you'd discuss further on how Vaggie would have never let Charlie in but Charlie didn't think to knock, can you please share?

Ngl, while it's not an s-tier ship for me because I do adore zestmilla, battle angel is indeed an underrated pairing and tbh? At the very least Vaggie deserved to have an obsessive lesbian crush on Carmilla. I know it was allegedly planned for her to have an obsession with weapons and it got cut for time or other reasons. Whatever, more stripping of Vaggie's character and turning her into a bland nonentity so she doesn't compete for attention with literally everyone else.

As for your question; I would like to refer back to Charlie's rant at Alastor during their cannibal town date. No I will not be taking arguments on that, that's precisely what it was.

"Three years, three YEARS I've been sharing my life with her and I tell her EVERYTHING! My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits, what fucking DEODORANT I like! And she keeps something, like THIS from ME! Why would she lie for so long? Did she think I wouldn't accept her? What about me, ME, says un-understanding?"

And if you watch her body language during this whole rant it's less emotional hurt and more... ego hurt? Like, this whole upset has gone from "the person I love and trust more than anything has been lying to me about who they are," to, "I share everything about myself with her and should have been entitled to this information."

And yeah, I get it, she was made to look incredibly stupid in front of a heavenly council right before being blasted back to Hell with an entire exorcist army aimed right at her front door. Anyone might be justifiably upset that such important info was kept from them. But as Carmilla literally says not ten minutes later, "You have a giant X over your eye and wield an angelic spear, it's not rocket science."

So Carmilla was able to take literally ONE look at Vaggie and clock her origins? Going further, depending on how you interpret Lucifer's gaze in Dad Beat Dad upon meeting Vaggie it's entirely possible HE clocked her as angelic too. And yet, the person who spends the most time around her somehow couldn't connect those dots? Charlie's optimistic but she's not dumb. She's got a naive understanding of sinners and how best to incite change but to miss something like THAT? I don't buy that Vaggie would have been able to keep that secret so easily if Charlie had been paying as much attention to her partner as any good and healthy relationship should.

But let's backtrack a bit. The notion that Vaggie's off emotionally is established all the way back in episode 3. Remember when Charlie's trying to get the others psyched about trust exercises and Vaggie shows a considerable lack of enthusiasm? What was the first thing out of Charlie's mouth after that? Is it, "hey you seem like you've got something on your mind; are you okay?"

Nope! It's a very embarrassed/annoyed, "Vaggie, we rehearsed this!"

After which she proceeds to blindside Vaggie with the news that she's the one who's going to be leading the trust unit that day. Wow, for all they rehearsed this pitch Vaggie sure seems left out of the loop on it doesn't she? When Vaggie tries to explain without explaining that she's neither qualified nor comfortable about this decision does Charlie say, "well okay then, but if you change your mind just let me know,"? Wrong again! She just says, "It's easy I'm sure you can handle this."

And again, Vaggie is both unprepared and uncomfortable and also unable to say no to Charlie so she defaults into her military training and starts speaking to them like a commanding officer would to their troops. And I don't blame her for that, we tend to fall back on emulating behavior we've seen when we don't know how to cope with something. When trust falls don't work, Charlie tries to retake control but Vaggie puts on a brave face and says she has it when she clearly doesn't. As chaotic shenanigans ensue Vaggie grows more and more desperate but somehow it isn't until she's literally chucking people off a roof that Charlie figures this has gone too far. Not to mention she's incredibly surprised that COMBAT is how Vaggie learned to trust people. Forgive me if I'm wrong but you've been her partner for three years by later admission and you DIDNT know she came from a military background?

Not to mention Vaggie spells it all out in black and white, "I took charge today and it all went sideways. I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality. I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to never fail you" followed by, "If I can't help you, what's the point of me?"

Vaggie has serious issues with self worth, demonstrated here. And while I get Charlie is trying to respect boundaries to a certain point I cannot imagine that were I in her shoes I would leave my partner thinking that if they couldn't be useful they shouldn't be with me. And while to her credit Charlie does apologize, it feels a little pointless when the very next episode she's back to just ignoring what Vaggie says. Even then, that apology doesn't do much to address the real root of the issue. They work as a team? When and where is that EVER demonstrated? It's not a reassurance that Vaggie doesn't NEED to have some demonstrable use for Charlie to want to be with her. And even if it was Vaggie has already struck at the heart of their problem; she wants to be Charlie's armor AND her partner, but those positions cannot work in tandem. Because wanting to be someone's armor assumes they need protecting, and again I state, Charlie is a grown ass woman and one of the most powerful beings in all of hell. She was smart enough to avoid making a deal with Alastor in the pilot, why does Vaggie assume that Charlie NEEDS protecting? And a partner infers a level of equality that just isn't demonstrated in what we see of their relationship. There is no give and take with them supporting each other equally. It's vaggie either trying to draw blood from a stone to meet Charlie's unrealistic expectations, or Vaggie telling Charlie to alter core elements of her personality to appease her own subjects. And on the flip side; where does Charlie support Vaggie in anything resembling the way Vaggie supports Charlie?

Charlie pushed for Vaggie to come to Heaven with her because that was what SHE wanted. Even when Vaggie expressed her reluctance to go Charlie pushed and Vaggie folded even as she knew what ended up happening was a very real possibility. Why?

For all his bloodthirsty nature Alastor knows the political game way better than Vaggie does. Vaggie couldn't keep her shit together when Emily was just holding Charlie's hands and being friendly. That's not the type of partner a political figure should have, and whether she likes it or not as princess of hell Charlie's interwoven with the politics of hell. Being power hungry means Alastor has the genuine best advice for Charlie when it comes to handling bigwigs like the angels. And he's someone with an actual business interest in the hotel. Imagine someone asking him why he helps when he doesn't believe in redemption; and he tells them it's because he believes in Charlie. You don't hand someone the source of most of your power so easily if you do not have a sincere and earnest level of trust in them. And yet Al does it willingly, more than once.

I want to say that I don't hate Charlie or Vaggie. I just don't think they work well as a pairing because Vaggie gives too much and Charlie's more concerned with her people than her partner. And the lack of communication between the two of them is a real issue. Again, Vaggie might never have let Charlie in, but Charlie never thought to knock. She never thought to ask about Vaggie in any way that would suggest the sort of deep emotional love that the show so desperately wants us to believe they have.

And on some level, I think a good portion of the fandom feels it too. Seriously, run the numbers some time on just AO3; filter for the Chaggie tag, and then take out every other ship that those stories are actually about. The chaggie tag is filled with stories that are about someone else's relationship because beneath the surface there's nothing there.

[austinramsaygames]

Put an opera in your campaign!

Put an opera in your TTRPG and make a reason why the player characters MUST attend. There are many reasons to do this!

It's fancy so the PCs have to come up with formal wear that their characters would bring to the opera (this is one reason it should be an opera). Let them wear whatever weird shit they want so long as their character LEGITIMATELY believes the outfit is appropriate. Let them get Met Gala with it. Other guests may stare and make snide remarks, but the staff should only offer token resistance if the outfit interferes with the performance or audience, or is dangerous to the people around them.

It forces the PCs into a social situation they may not have the mechanical skills for. Fish out of water stories are lots of fun, especially during the intermission when they have a chance to mingle with the NPCs. Make part of their task at the opera to get to know the wealthy folks in the audience, either generally or specific ones. Even better if they have to get *something* from them (political support, a specific item, information, etc). If things seem to be stalling, here are two tricks to help keep things flowing: a) have someone powerful pointedly insult the most hot headed PC in a very upper class manner. Comments about their outfit and upbringing are classics. This heats things back up as the hot head tries to get violent while the other PCs try to keep the peace, and can lead to a duel the next morning when the dilettante turns out to be a renowned duelist. b) once things have completely stalled or if you need to cut things short (in or out of character), have the intermission end and the audience called back into the auditorium. This can be used as a cliffhanger for whatever was about to happen!

The opera house can be a very interesting location! There's the lobby, auditorium, and possibly concessions, but if the PCs start going where they shouldn't, there's a lot of behind (and under) the scenes spaces for them to explore. Do they go to the changing room and harass (or even replace!) the actors? Maybe they go to the props department and replace a stage knife with a real one! There could be a weirdo living in the basement who is obsessed with the lead actress and plans to kidnap (or rescue?) her. There are all kinds of interesting spaces for plots to happen!

The opera itself is an opportunity to tell the players about the past, present, or even future! What is the plot of the opera? This is key information! The opera will be telling a story that is important to the majority of the audience. It could be about the past of the nation (mythical or historical). Maybe it's about events the PCs witnessed themselves but told from a different point of view than theirs and this might be unflattering towards them or those they care about. You can even foreshadow future plot points by having the play be a fiction that thematically or narratively parallels later parts (or even the next) of the story arc. If there's a great evil that's going to return, you can combine the past AND the future by describing the terrors of the "defeated" evil, then later show those signs happening as hints that the evil returns!

There are some great examples of how an opera (or play if you must) can be inserted into a story to great effect. The Ember Island Players episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender recaps the entire show from the perspective of the antagonist Fire Nation.

Final Fantasy 6 has a famous opera scene where one of the heroes has to replace an actress who has been threatened with being kidnapped by the mysterious man whose help they need! The hero must then remember her lines while the rest of the party protects the show from getting derailed by monsters.

These are just a few ways that you can use an opera in your TTRPG campaign and I highly recommend giving it a whirl!

[ceasarslegion]

Please tell me about the guy in your college dorm who got scurvy, I love a good modern day scurvy story. Like bro, have a delightful lemon-parm chicken

So in uni I lived in a co-ed dorm building where we had single-person rooms and shared a common room, washrooms/showers, laundry, and a kitchen. We also had a dining hall that we could purchase meal plans from (which i also had all 4 years, because i juggled full time school and 2 jobs at the same time. I did NOT have the time to cook for myself and I would not have done so in that kitchen to be frank). The building was split up into a bunch of different houses which we took personality quizzes to get assigned to in order to limit the amount of conflicts that would happen in this living situation. I was put in the smallest house (there were only 20 of us) and it was full of real chill like-minded people who liked to watch movies with me. This guy was the next door away from me, but wasn't my immediate next door neighbour because the stairwell broke up our house down the middle.

He was the house shut-in. He didn't really join any of the hang outs in the common room, or go out clubbing with us, he just kinda shut himself in his dorm room and never came out. Eventually we stopped slipping invitations to things under his door like we did with everyone else because there was no point. But I saw him in the dining hall and I saw him swiping a meal card a few times so I knew he was on the meal plan, meaning i KNEW he had access to fruit and veggies and even just like, juice. The food wasn't good but you had all the opportunities in the world to make it good FOR you, if that makes sense.

One of my jobs at this point was as an overnight security guard for an apartment building. I would come back around 4am and then crash out until 11 or 12 and then go to my afternoon and night classes. This is relevant because I was coming back into the building after a shift once in full uniform while he was sitting on the front steps and looking like he was hungover to the point of near-unconsciousness. I ask if he's feeling okay, if he needs anything, he waves me off and says he just needs some air. I'm like okay well, you know which doors mine if you change your mind bud.

He was an enigma who never spoke to us so I waved the situation off as too much college partying or something.

Over the next few days this becomes a common sight among everyone, who says they would also come back from their part time jobs or outings to him nearly passed out on a courtyard bench or something, a few people said they heard someone throwing up in our floor's shared bathroom.

About a week later I come back from my shift as usual and crash in bed until noon, expecting to wake up and go to my classes as usual. I grab my school bag and throw my regular coat and boots on and walk to class. I liked to sit in the back of that lecture hall because that prof had a rule that you were allowed to eat in his class as long as you sat in the last 3 rows, so I'd bring my breakfast and coffee in one of the dining hall to go boxes. I did not end up eating my breakfast or drinking my coffee.

In fact I did not make any notes on my laptop.

In fact, the house discord server blew up while I was asleep.

This guy, this fucking guy, had gone to our don (RA, basically) and told her he needed to go to the ER and then passed out on her couch. She doesn't have a car because none of us did, so everyone who was there and awake ended up dragging him to the closest hospital that was a few blocks away from campus on foot. Why they did not call an ambulance or at least an Uber is beyond me, but panic does weird things to people.

Reading through this in the corner of my eye before class starts, I have forgotten about class entirely. I have forgotten about my breakfast and my coffee. A few people were asking if they should ask for the don's master key and wake me up, thinking that i might have training in these things from what my job was (i did), and then others shut them down saying "no, let him sleep. He gets home at 4:30 in the morning" (WHY DIDNT YOU WAKE ME UP I WOULDNT HAVE CARED IF YOU SAID SOMEONE WAS HAVING A MEDICAL EMERGENCY. I COULDVE AT LEAST KEPT YOU ALL CALM AND DELEGATED TASKS)

I send a message in just saying "guys I'm up now what is going on" with an @everyone attached.

Instantly get "several people are typing." That's never a good sign.

So this guy was in the ER for hours getting IV-fed. Because he had scurvy. And they had to vitamin C infuse him. Because he hadn't eaten a single fruit or vegetable or anything derived from a plant the entire school year. He got SCURVY. IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2019.

Bro eat a fruit. EVER?? But he just didn't. He just never did. He had fucking scurvy. He passed out and had bleeding gums and his teeth almost fell out. Because he had scurvy.

He did not come back the next school year because his parents pulled him out of the dorms on the basis that he couldn't be trusted to take care of himself after that incident. And I do not blame them at all. Ma'am your kid can't be trusted to eat one (1) orange all year.

[sequinsmile-x]

Instincts

Five times Emily doesn't yell at her mother-in-law, and one time she does.

Part 1/6

-x-

Hi besties,

Hope you are all doing as okay as possible <3

Usually, I do these 5+1 fics as a one shot but I'm doing it a little differently this time and this will be a multi chapter.

The final chapter, the one time Emily does yell, will be based on a prompt I received!

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: none for this chapter, pregnancy in later chapters

Words: 2.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The first time it happens, she doesn’t even get to meet Caroline Hotchner. 

It starts a few days before, when she can tell Aaron is nervous the moment he lets her into his apartment. She smiles curiously at her boyfriend as she steps past him, her lips catching his cheek as his hand skims her waist before he takes her bag from her, hooking it over his shoulder, “Waiting for me in the doorway kind of makes me having a key pointless.” 

He chuckles, but it’s not the laugh she loves. It doesn’t come from his chest, doesn’t light up the space between them like it usually does, and it makes concern spark low in her gut. She furrows her brow as he closes the door, his focus on locking it behind them and setting the alarm. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, smiling when he turns to look at her, “I was just excited to see you.”

Emily hums, narrowing her eyes at him as she crosses her arms over her chest, desperately trying to read him - to see what had changed since she’d left him in his office at work just a few hours ago. She’d only gone back to her place to get more clothes. Her apartment was just a place where she kept her things these days because home was wherever Aaron and Jack were. 

She’d considered breaking her lease and just moving in with Aaron. All of their friends made fun of them for it, playful smiles on their faces when they teased her for the fact she still had an exit strategy. It would upset her if she knew Aaron thought that way too, but she knew he didn’t, his defence of her always fierce even in the face of joking from their friends. The truth was, something that they were keeping between the two of them for now, that they recently started to look at a place to buy together. She loved sitting in bed with Aaron, her back against his chest, his legs bracketing hers and his chin on her shoulder whilst they looked through listings together. Their favourites either bookmarked on her laptop or circled in the paper. She hated moving, it reminded her too much of her childhood, so she didn’t want to do it twice in quick succession. So for now, she’d continue to occasionally go to her place to pick up some things, content to live in this in-between stage before she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. A home made of brick and mortar. A home made of the man she loves and the boy she loves as her own. 

It was a future she was looking forward to. One with him and Jack and whoever else might come along too - the idea of having more children with him enough to make her giddy. 

“I only went home to get some clothes, honey,” she says, trying to pull a smile out of him, the smile that belonged to her. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his energy still nervous, and she sighs, “What’s going on?” 

He clears his throat and puts her bag on his couch, “My mother called.” 

She raises her eyebrows, her arms falling to her side, “Oh.” 

His relationship with his mother was tense at best. They only spoke now and again, they exchanged phone calls on birthdays and holidays and occasionally sent each other gifts. Emily had never met her, but she’d overheard them talking on the phone, her name thrown around like confetti by her boyfriend, his smile always soft just at the mention of her. 

“Yeah,” he says, walking towards her, his hands on her hips, “She’s in town.” 

Emily nods, her eyebrows raising even further, already knowing where this was going, “Oh.” 

“And she wants to meet you,” he says, squeezing her waist when she opens her mouth again, a third oh dying on her tongue, “Look, if you don’t want to meet her, I understand. I know my relationship with her is hard, and that you probably don’t have a lot of good feelings about her because of that-”

“Honey-” she says, finally breaking out of the slight stupor she’d fallen into. She smiles and cups his cheek, “You’re rambling. You don’t ramble,” she runs her thumb back and forth over his jaw, “It’s cute,” she smiles when he turns his head to kiss her palm,  “Of course, I’ll meet her.”

The relief in his eyes is palpable, and she sees the tension in his shoulders loosen, “Really?” 

She nods and leans forward to kiss him, her lips stamped against his, “Really,” she says, her nerves dampened a little by the relieved look on his face, the look in his eyes that makes him look like the little boy who never quite stopped looking for his mother’s approval, “She’ll be my mother-in-law one day,” she says, her arms snaking around his neck as he pulls her closer, “It would be awkward if the first time I met her is the wedding.” 

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss her, putting all of his love into it. He tightens his grip on her hips so he doesn’t run to the bedroom to grab the ring he’d hidden in his sock drawer, not wanting to ruin his very meticulously planned proposal, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she says, “So, when are we going to meet her? Are you going to invite her here?” 

“No,” he says, sounding more sure than he had since she’d walked through the door, and it makes her smile, “I learnt a long time ago a mutual ground is probably the right call. She likes Italian food. That new place opened up downtown but it’s almost impossible to get in.” 

She shakes her head, carding her fingers through his hair, “Impossible if you’re not the daughter of a well-respected US Ambassador,” she says, smiling at him, “If the Prentiss name is good for one thing in DC, it’s for getting reservations.” 

He sighs, shaking his head, knowing any favour she asked for from her mother never came for free, “Em, I know how difficult your mom can be, you don’t have to-”

“Hey, what good are my mommy issues if I can’t use them to help you with yours,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, “I’ll call my mom, she’ll get her assistant to get us a table and then she’ll passive-aggressively berate my life choices for 10 to 20 minutes. And you can pay me back in sexual favours.” 

He chuckles and kisses her before leaning his forehead against hers, “Deal.” 

___

She’s able to focus on his anxiety instead of her own. 

If she didn’t know him so well, it would concern her. Make her think that he was worried about her meeting his mother and not the other way around. There was no room for her to even consider that he was embarrassed by her, that he was anything less than proud to call her his. All the nervousness he was feeling, the way he was squeezing her knee like it was a stress ball, was all about his mother. The women he’d come from but couldn’t be more different than. 

If there was one thing Emily understood, it was that feeling. 

She places her hand over his on her knee as he parks up and she smiles, “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I think if you squeeze my knee any tighter the joint might pop,” she says, and he lets go. She grabs his hand before he can take it away, linking their fingers together and cutting him off so he doesn’t apologise, “It’s okay, honey. It’s dinner. We’ll eat, we’ll make conversation with your mother. And then we can go home and have sex.” 

He chuckles and tugs their joint hands towards him and kisses her knuckles, “Why does it feel like our roles have been reserved here?” 

She smiles, “Think about it this way,” she says, leaning across the centre console to kiss his cheek, “Your mom lives five states away. We don’t have to see her that often.” 

He laughs, “I’m sure I should be assuring you everything will be okay,” he shakes his head at himself, “You’re the one meeting her. I don’t want to paint a bad picture of her. She’s not a bad person. She had a bad set of circumstances. My father was…a bad person and a bad father. She’s not a bad person, but she…” 

“Wasn’t a very good mother,” she finishes for him, and he sighs and nods as she flashes a half smile at him, “I’m familiar with the concept,” she unhooks her seatbelt so she can turn to face him, her smile soft as she runs her fingers through his hair, “We can just go home you know. We can turn around. Jack is with Jess tonight so we could just get in the tub. Hang out. You could repay me for everything I went through for our cancelled reservation.”

He shakes his head and kisses her knuckles again, “No. I want her to meet you. To meet the woman I love,” he smiles, “You’re going to be my wife one day. The mother of my kids,” his smile gets wider when she blushes, “You should meet my mother.” 

She nods and kisses him, “In that case, we should get going. Otherwise, we’ll be late,” she turns to open her door but he stops her, and she turns to look at him, “You okay?” 

“I need you to promise me something.” 

“Anything, you know that.” 

“You know how you made me promise to not step in if I think your mom goes too far?” He asks, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she sighs, already knowing where he is going, “I need you to make me the same promise.” 

She clears her throat, “Is she going to make me wish I hadn’t made this promise?” 

“Probably.” 

She chuckles, “At least you’re honest,” she huffs out a breath, “Well, I’ve had over 40 years of experience dealing with my mother,” she winks at him, “I can handle one night with yours,” she’s grateful to get a smile out of him, “It will be okay, honey.” 

He holds her hand the moment they are out of the car, his palm warm against hers as they link their fingers together. She’d always loved holding his hand, found a comfort in it that she knew he found too. In the moments when she let herself be romantic about it, she tells herself they were made for each other. That the reason her hand fits so well in his, the reason their fingers link together perfectly, is because they were made with each other in mind. 

His phone rings and he pulls it from his pocket, frowning as he turns it to show her, the word Mom flashing across the screen. They come to a stop on the sidewalk, stepping out of the way of other people, and he answers. 

“Mom, hi, are you at the restaurant already, we’re just…” he drifts off, and Emily can hear the voice of the woman at the end of the phone, but not what she’s saying, “Oh, I see,” he says, looking at Emily, his lips pressed together and his eyes drifting shut, “I thought you wanted to meet Emily,” he adds, and she clenches her jaw as she runs her thumb back and forth over the heel of his hand, “Well, yeah you can do that next time you’re in town. Or maybe we’ll come and see you.” 

She can hear the disappointment in his voice, can see the irritation in his eyes, in the way he’s holding himself, and she gets as close as she can to him to provide the comfort he’d never ask for. She rests her head on his shoulder, and the extra height her heels give her means he can rest his cheek on top of her head as he finishes the call with his mom, exchanging goodbyes and see you soons in a way that’s so polite it makes her teeth ache. After he hangs up they stand in silence, still in their strange embrace with her head on his shoulder and both of her hands wrapped around one of his. 

“She’s not coming?” She asks, even though she knows the answer, and she looks up at him. He shakes his head and clears his throat. 

“No. She’s not.” 

“Did she say why?” 

“She bumped into an old friend. Went for dinner with her instead.” 

She scoffs, “Instead of meeting up with her son?” She clenches her jaw, “Want me to call her back? I can give her a…” she drifts off when he raises his eyebrow at her, a hint of amusement in his smile, “Right. My promise. Does it count even if I haven’t met her yet?” 

He chuckles wryly and kisses her forehead, “I’d say especially then,” he kisses her again, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she assures him, “It’s not your fault,” she squeezes his hand and hates the look in his eyes when they meet hers. He looks like a lost little boy, entirely too much like Jack, and it makes her want to steal his phone when he’s not looking and break her promise only minutes after she made it. She knows she won’t though, bound by a promise they’d now made each other about their mothers respectively, and she knew how annoyed and hurt she’d be if their roles were reversed, “Want to go home?” 

He shakes his head, “No, Em. You went to a lot of effort to get this table-”

“Honey, I don’t care,” she says, cupping his cheek, “I can handle my mother if she says anything about us not using the reservation. I’m worried about you,” she strokes her thumb back and forth over his cheek, “If you want to go in we can, or we can grab a pizza on our way home and I’ll eat in my underwear to try and cheer you up.” 

He laughs, the sound more real this time, more hers, and he smiles at her, “I do like the sound of the second option.”

“I know my audience,” she hums and leans forward, stamping her lips against his before she rests her forehead against his, “Home?” 

He nods, blowing out a slow breath, “Home.” 

She kisses him one more time before she steps back enough for them to walk to the car, both of her hands still wrapped around one of his, “I’m sorry your mom did this, Aaron.” 

He sighs and unlocks the car, “Me too. I was looking forward to the two of you meeting.” 

She slips in between him and the side of the car before he can open the door for her, “I know,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “And I was looking forward to meeting her too. Despite…everything, she still gave the world you. And that’s something I want to thank her for,” she says, worry sparking in her chest again when he tightens his hold on her, something she can’t name flashing in his eyes, “Baby, what is it?” 

Aaron shakes his head, “It’s nothing.” 

“You can tell me,” she says, reaching out for his hand, “You know that.”

He blows out a breath, “I guess I just wanted her to meet you before we start the next stage of everything. Not because I feel like I need her approval or anything. But she’s my mom,” he smiles sadly, “It would nice if she cared enough to meet the woman I’ve told her I’m going to marry one day soon.” 

It makes her angry again. The heat of it washing over her in a way she knows has her gripping his hand a little too tight, her knuckles briefly paper white before she lets go, swallowing the fury back down because it’s not what he needs from her. 

Not today. 

Despite everything, the mere mention of their still hypothetical wedding makes her smile and she squeezes his hand, “I understand that, but if she misses out on anything it’s on her. Not you. Okay?” 

He nods, “Okay.” 

She leans forward and kisses him, “Now,” she says, kissing him again, “Pizza. Then home.” 

“And you in your underwear,” he says, smiling as he steps away so he can open the car door for her, “I seem to remember that being part of the deal.” 

“A deal is a deal,” she says, winking at him as he closes her car door once she’s climbed in. She’s alone in the car for a matter of seconds before he joins her, the key in the ignition as soon as his door is shut. “I just thought of something.” 

He looks over and sees the vague look of horror on her face, the way she scrunches her nose up ever so slightly, “What, sweetheart?” 

“One day our mothers are going to have to meet.” 

[theepitomeofamess]

ok ok it's theory time bc i'm rewatching mismag 1 as a coping mechanism so potential spoilers ahoy & forgive me if it's rambly i've also had a sedative

the serpent in the storm. the one without a name and only shown as an illumination in the Tome of Nimble Working. is that what was possessing evan? like is it the amalgamation of the "demons" that were haunting him, or even just The Main Guy? i'm not sure if this creature has anything to do with the breaking of magic, I just started thinking about this today at work, but hear me out.

in Class Conflict, the manifestation of the thing haunting Evan when it emerged to protect him was the blood cobra, and the barb that Tallulah hit Evan with after potions class was that all she heard was "hissing noises." so we know that snakes are something evil & monstrous in wizard culture (as much as they were in HP) but not because they're the mascot of the "evil house" Aqarbus. so where did the serpent symbolism come from?

later, in Family on Six when Evan makes the agreement to lean on the demons to save K, the "permanent change" that Brennan describes is that out of the shadow across evan's face "just goes black and is leaking black oil and water." aabira's description of the illumination of this creature was "a mix between a snake and an oil-soaked bird of prey." oil-soaked.

this is kinda what got me thinking in the first place, because what are the things you think of when you think of Evan Kelmp? Bird Facts and Gas Station Parking Lots. this absolutely feels like something Aabria would pull to make Brennan eat the lore he created.

it's also the type of shit she would do because of K's attempts to find any sort of books about what these "demons" might be during the exorcism, only to be met with "you think you're going to find me in a book?" maybe not named. not studied. no anatomical drawings or any sort of understanding as to what it is. but yeah. they'll find it in a book.

i do think that maybe this bird snake entity has been tied to Evan since before his birth---aabria's description in the latest S2 ep: "you feel yourself and the inside of you is empty, and something that was always meant to be poured in is beginning to pour itself back in" tells me that Evan was born to be a vessel for something. now, the demons at the exorcism said that Evan was promised to them. promised by whom? promised by what? maybe by the thing that knew it was going to be held within Evan, and knew that if he were to grow up with a dark enough childhood, if he were to be haunted enough, he might become the Dark One.

now, we don't really know the mythology of the Dark One. we don't know what sort of prophecy was told about it. going off of the general trope of the thing, we've gotta assume that it's something along the lines of "this person will unleash a great terror/darkness/evil upon the world." this likely was supposed to happen as a result of evan's torment like a psychotic break, or maybe as a defense mechanism in a life-or-death situation. either way, this creature and the magic that it represents would have wanted to be released, maybe still using Evan as a vessel and working through him to maintain its unknown, mythological status. this thing isn't Tad, it can't and won't be lulled to sleep.

could this creature have been accidentally released as a result of sam's exorcism? probably, it had to have been a thing or else it wouldn't be on the orery.(besides, this ancient monstrosity would never have anticipated Sam Black). could it be that it was released after K killed Evan? possibly, idk how often gm's rearrange lore behind the scenes to better fit what's happened in the story they're playing through.

whatever the case, I do think that it's not insignificant that Evan only started getting inklings of this sort of repossession leaking in after the events on Seeganpelater. the place where he saw the creature through the serpent's watch (a scene that in illustration implies that, maybe, the serpent could see them, too). the place where he snapped his wand. the place where he killed Boudicca. where we saw him be a magic murderer, where we saw him truly tap into the darkness he's been assigned his whole life. somewhere on cannibal Island, there was a moment of reconnection, and it helps that the very next places they went to were the islands that 1) stressed Evan out beyond belief, and 2) worked with amplification. it was able to strengthen its bond either the minute they landed, or as soon as Evan leaned into his strengths to scratch the tree with his shadow.

maybe this creature is what broke the well of magic. maybe it created the storm and destroyed Gowpenny. maybe this is a version of the Dark One prophecy coming true, breaking the rules of magic to the point that the entire system is broken and the world can never be what it used to. maybe it's not involved in anything and is just reveling in the chaos. I don't know. maybe all of these are coincidences between seasons. fun to think about, though!

[dearcat1]

Hmmm... So I was reading the comments here and vet!Jon coming back to a dying mother is fascinating the hell out of me. Mostly because we have Jon, who is wary of motherly figures but desperate for family. I feel like he shows up mostly for his siblings. I mean, even if Rhea hadn't died, I think his siblings would be his focus. But he does show up, maybe a little earlier than Daemon, looking for his younger siblings only to what? Not find them and find a dying mother instead.

I mean, can you imagine the maester's POV in this? A dragonrider shows up, claiming to be Lady Rhea's son and looking for his younger siblings. Maybe he sees enough of Rhea in him to be like "maybe? I think so. Either way, let me show him to his mother (?). Lady Rhea should know." And so he guides Jon to Lady Rhea because what other option does he have? There's a huge dragon backing this 14 y/o up.

This entire scene's angst potential is living in my mind rent-free.

Rhea who is already in pain and dying, is confronted with her lost baby. It's a gift and a torture all at once. She gets to see him one last time, apologize, and give him the heirship she might have always thought he was owed but she will never get to know him, spend time with him, or bond with him. He is more an idea to her than a person and she will never get the opportunity to change that. Maybe that's why she gave the older twin Jon's name and maybe that's why she was considering giving him the heirship. A small way to give back what she felt her eldest lost.

And Jon? Jon is probably watching this woman fall apart and thinking ....what? He came here for his siblings and she is the one with the answers he needs but this woman is sobbing. Does she look enough like a Stark that he can see Arya in her? A fierce warrior woman, brought low and in pain? Does he comfort her? Does he hold her as she cries, wishing she was Arya instead? The emotional hit is going to be HUGE.

Then Daemon shows up. Daemon, who is coming to pick up his twins and who has choice words for his supposed wife right up until he is thrown into the chaos of reality. The woman is dying, the maester says. And at this point, the maester probably heard enough to confirm that Jon and the twins and Rhea's children. These are heirs to Runestone, of the lady's blood. Allard is so far down the line of succession now. (It's kind of funny, actually. But we'll go to Allard later.) So the maester probably says something like your wife is dying, and your eldest is with her. Because I highly doubt the maester thinks Rhea hid royal children from the Targaryen. He maybe thinks they knew but hid them to protect them or something, since the eldest boy was apparently kidnapped. Except Daemon enters the room expecting Jon the younger, only to see a whole 14 y/o there. So either his twins are much older than rumored or he has 3 sons.

So Daemon comes into the room, expecting his dying wife and an 8 y/o, and is hit with the grief of knowing he lost a decade and a half with his children, not a little less than a decade. And with his wife holding onto his teenager and the teenager's obvious distress, Daemon doesn't even get the small catharsis of accusing Rhea directly. He gets to find out he has 3 sons just as Rhea is confessing and writing the succession of Runestone into law from the sidelines, doing his best to handle his own grief while supporting his baby.

The impotent fury this poor man must be feeling. The pain, not only of knowing his teenager was lost to him for so long but of seeing him in pain and Daemon doesn't even know him well enough to support him. But things don't make sense because this one was apparently stolen to Volantis, so what about the fostering? What does any of this mean? Was his son kidnapped all this time and Daemon, clueless, fighting a war while he should have been scouring the Free Cities for his own son? His flesh and blood? And his eldest has a dragon, Daemon saw him when he first came in. A huge dragon that was somehow hidden from them. What does all of this mean? How much of a traitor was Rhea? Did she herself send his son away? Or was it Allard? That greedy would-be usurper? (At this point, Daemon probably thinks Allard and Rhea are the devil in disguise.)

Rhea dies, without having to answer for her crimes, with her secrets safe in her chest. And neither Jon nor Daemon gets long to process that this woman is gone before Allard shows up. Fucking Allard who is coming to what he thinks is going to be his castle, only to be told that Rhea has 3 heirs. And yes, he might have gotten rid of 2 and ensured his ability to hold the castle for at least around a decade. Maybe he even thinks he could pull a Bernard Stark. Except, no. He can't. Because the eldest, who he never even knew existed, is 14 y/o and present when Daemon accuses Allard of not only treason but also trying to get rid of the twins to keep the same castle vet!Jon is now heir to. I don't care how much fast-talking to save Allard in Lady Lynda's Rheagar does now, vet!Jon will see this man executed for treason. Sure, he'll keep Lady Lynda and her baby in the castle, protect them to the best of his ability, and provide a good life for them. But Allard is a dead man walking. Especially once Daemon is like: give me my sons and I will let you live. Only to find out they're gone already.

Worse yet, now in comes the maester and tells Daemon (who is still reeling from all this insanity) and Jon (who is probably halfway into a breakdown and half holding to his sanity by a thread) that the twins have been kidnapped. Now Daemon not only gets the angst of desperately trying to reach his babies in time, but he also gets to have a full-blown heart attack when he sees his eldest climb into a dragon bigger than Caraxes with no saddle. No protection. No nothing. Poor Daemon is going to need so much therapy.

I don't think enough people respect just how brutal Jon can be when he needs to make difficult decisions. The man is brutal. And yes, we have this mindset that Jon is bad at politics but he isn't that bad. He is just more military leader than a politician because that is what he has needed to be. But he is stupidly good at making allies, and allies that are fiercely loyal to him. I forget the quote but I remember a part in the book where someone was talking about Jon and said something along the lines of: It's not Jon Snow you need to fear, it's all his friends coming to his aid.

My point is, that in the books, Jon makes some harsh decisions - sometimes sacrificing his honor - because he believes they're necessary. He hates to do it, but he does. In the books, he exchanges Manse's baby with Gilly's because the Red Priestess was sniffing around and talking about King's blood. He is fully aware of what that could mean for Gilly's baby when he sends her away with Manse's child but he does it anyway because he doesn't want to see what the Red Priestess could do with King's blood. And in the show, he gives back the castles to families that betrayed Rob and when Sansa confronts him about it, claiming it's a political mistake, Jon's response boils down to they will be empty soon enough. It's brutal! This man saw two basically children kneel before him and beg for mercy and pretended to give it to them. He sent them back to their castles to act as canaries in the mines, knowing full well he was condemning them to die. He sacrificed these 2 traitor families as a warning system to find out if the White Walkers breached The Wall so he could keep more people whose loyalty he was sure of around him.

What I mean is, this Jon would see Allard as a threat to younger!Jon and Raymar and he would not lose any sleep over getting rid of him. And he has such an easy solution to do it. Maybe they can't reach for Otto on this one, but vet!Jon spent time in Volantis and heroically escaped only to see his mother die and rescue his siblings. His street cred is probably high as hell, there would be songs written about him. But also, he gets to lie with a straight face. "Oh yes, I came back because I knew my siblings were in danger so I knew I had to risk it, I heard the warlocks talking about the twins. They said Allard had assured them they could have them, even sent them into a fostering so they could easily kidnap them without any attention falling to him." vet!Jon would do it and sleep like a baby. Allard can say he didn't all he wants, there's enough proof he hid the twins and that it was him who had them sent for fostering. And if Viserys tries to refuse? Hmm... Good luck stopping vet!Jon, because he's used to beheading traitors. He'll do it himself if he has to. Daemon can watch the kids for a week while he handles the issue. Or better yet, Daemon and vet!Jon can grab one twin each so vet!Jon can both make sure they're unharmed and deal with this situation himself since the King won't. Or maybe he'll just demand a duel and be done with it. Sooner or later Allard is going to be called to KL.

Goddammit @syndrossi, look at this monstrosity. How very dare... I am having so much fun, though. Also @kk88888gh, take your share of the blame. This idea has consumed my life.

PS: About the idea of Viserys comparing Jon to Jaehaerys... The way Otto would lose his mind the first time he hears it. Jon - black-haired, looking more like Rhaenyra's children than Alicent's, and with the biggest dragon except for Vaghar - getting compared to Jaehaerys the wise by the King? PUBLICLY? Otto will cry.

But also, the PR nightmare. Because in Resonant we can have Daemon (with the reputation he has) and his little family, looking more like what a Targaryen family should look like in the eyes of the people than declining Viserys and his mess of a family. Daemon's bad reputation alleviates that unflattering comparison somewhat. But here you have Daemon, returning with Caraxes and with his heir showing this amount of promise? I think it hurts both the Greens and the Blacks. It definitely hurts Viserys. Depending on how active vet!Jon is, he might end up looking more like a King than Viserys does.

That said, in this scenario, with an almost of age heir/PTWP, does Viserys seek to marry Daemon quickly again or does he prefer a Laena/vet!Jon match? Age difference and everything, I wonder who Viserys would make Jon marry because if he jumped at re-marrying Daemon, I don't see Jon escaping his matchmaking. Or does he wait for Jon, hoping Rhaenyra will have a daughter soon? The irony of Viserys spending so much time hoping for a son only to now beg for a granddaughter... Or, if Laenor dies before either Jon or Daemon marries, which one does Viserys go for once he matchmakes Rhaenyra again? Jon or Daemon? A prince that was promised or the progenitor of the fire-proof babies?

PS: it's @zerousernameideas, I just somehow messed up the blog I was reblogging with... Insert shame face here

So I have another "what if" prompt that is very out of left field. Jon gets brought back as his 14 year old self in the 8 year old body (same as Rhaegar) only he's not the only version of himself that the got Summerhalled. They managed to grab 19 year old war vet Jon who is transported into the actual conception child Rhea and Daemon would have had. Rhaegal and Ghost come with (he doesn't get an emotional support twin so he gets 2 service pets to compensate). He's the one who stops in and saves the twins and inadvertently helps sell Daemon's fiction that the twins are true born because he is literally an older version of Jon.

This ask predates Restoration AU, I think, which is funny because it's sort of a reverse Restoration AU? Two Jons but in Resonant era, and one of them the same age as Winterfell!Jon in Restoration, while the other is the nineteen-year-old vet version.

I don't think the math quite works out for 19-year-old Jon to be the consummation baby of Daemon and Rhea's marriage unless he's a few years younger in the Dance era, and Daemon wouldn't have abandoned a trueborn son (nor would early marriage Rhea have hidden him). Maybe it works if he's 14, aka born 3 years into Daemon's marriage with Rhea, when she was much more embittered against him, though again we have to handwave that Rhea was willing to hide an actual trueborn son when Jaehaerys himself was still alive!

The logistics of Rhaegal suddenly appearing in the world would certainly be...interesting. Vet!Jon would have to be pretty clever with his explanation there! Once the Volantis shenanigans are known to him, maybe he can claim that he was kidnapped by them as a child and only recently escaped/returned to Westeros.